by Marta Perry
Dorcas guessed by those words that Thomas hadn’t told his mother yet that he intended to leave as soon as the work was done. Poor Miriam. There was sadness ahead for her. Maybe it was better this way. At least she could enjoy this time of having her whole family together.
“Shall I go in?” She nodded toward the living room.
“Ach, yes, what am I thinking? You didn’t come here after a long day of school to stand around talking to me.”
She linked arms with Dorcas and walked her to the front room. Esther, after a moment of apparent indecision, followed them. Now, how exactly was she to get rid of them? She couldn’t have an audience to the conversation she had to have with Thomas.
Most of the clapboard farmhouses in the valley were built in the same style, and she could have found her way without a guide, but Miriam wouldn’t think that polite.
“Thomas, here’s Teacher Dorcas come to see you,” Miriam called.
Thomas, leaning back in the padded rocker with his feet on a footstool, struggled as if to get up at their entrance.
“You stay right where you are,” Miriam scolded, pushing him back gently. “Teacher Dorcas doesn’t mind the least little bit.”
“That’s right.” She smiled at him, hoping he knew how to persuade his family to leave them alone.
Miriam gestured to Esther, and together they pushed an upholstered chair nearer to the rocker. “There, now.” Miriam patted it invitingly. “You sit right here, Dorcas, and be comfortable.”
Obediently, Dorcas sat, plopping her school bag on the floor next to the chair. “I got your note,” she told Thomas. “I was happy to stop over after school. How are you feeling?” And how are we going to get your family to go away?
“Much better. I should be back to work in a day or two.” He gave his mother a defiant look.
“We’ll see,” Miriam said.
Dorcas could have told him that wouldn’t work. No matter how old he was, he was still Miriam’s little boy. Her expression told Dorcas that Thomas wasn’t going back to work until she said so.
“I’m glad you’re doing better,” she said quickly, interrupting what she feared would be an argument. “But that was a bad fall, and you mustn’t come back too soon. The work will still be there.”
She hoped she wasn’t saying that just because it ensured that he’d be there a little longer.
Miriam was moving toward the door. “I’ll leave you alone to talk about the job.”
“Denke,” Dorcas murmured, hoping her face didn’t say how relieved she was.
Unfortunately, Esther lingered, leaning against the door frame and studying the planks beneath her feet.
When her mother reached her, however, she caught Esther by the arm. “Come along,” she said, urging her out. “We need to go and get the laundry off the line. It should be dry by now.”
Dorcas listened to their footsteps receding and felt a moment of dismay. Now she’d have to get on with telling him, and that wouldn’t be easy.
“I wanted to be sure you knew I wouldn’t go until I finished the job.” Thomas was studying her intently. “But I see something else is on your mind.”
“How did you know?” It would be better if he couldn’t read her feelings so easily.
“You know,” he said in an undertone.
She did. It was the same reason she could tell something was troubling him, sometimes even what he was thinking about. The bond between them had become so tight—how could Thomas think of breaking it?
“I’m afraid it’s about Esther,” she began, and then stopped, not really wanting to say the rest of it.
He looked resigned. “What has she done now?”
“I’m afraid,” she repeated, and then shook her head. “I didn’t mean that. The problem is that there’s some trouble, and it involves us . . . you and me.” She stopped to take a breath. He wouldn’t understand unless she got it out. “Esther and her girlfriends were whispering when they were supposed to be working on a project.”
“That’s normal, isn’t it?” She could see by his expression that he didn’t want to hear this.
“It is, yah, but Anna overheard what they were saying. Esther was talking to the other girls about us. Gossiping about us. Anna heard Esther say that I was trying to trap you into marrying me.”
Judging by the heat flaring under her skin, she was probably bright red by the time the words were out. Thomas just sat there. Then his anger spiked.
“That’s ridiculous,” he snapped.
She watched him steadily. “Do you mean it’s ridiculous because she wouldn’t say that, or ridiculous that anyone could think it?”
He shook his head irritably. “Either. Both. What have we done that would even put that idea into her head? Anna must have misunderstood.”
“Do you really believe that Anna would tell me if she weren’t sure?”
Thomas was silent for a long moment, obviously struggling with himself. When he spoke, he didn’t really answer the question. “Esther must have seen something that made her jump to conclusions about us.”
Dorcas felt a slight measure of relief. At least she didn’t have to argue him into believing it.
“Yah, but what? She wasn’t even there when you . . . when we . . .”
“When I kissed you,” he finished for her. “No, she wasn’t.” And then, irrelevantly, he added, “I thought I regretted it, but I don’t.”
“I don’t either,” she had to admit. “Still, even though she can’t have seen anything improper, she must have felt something . . . guessed something . . . just from seeing us together.”
Thomas shook his head, getting a baffled, stubborn look. “I still say it’s ridiculous. She’ll have forgotten it tomorrow.”
She’d never thought of the possibility that he’d dismiss it so lightly. It hurt, that he didn’t see how dangerous this could be for her.
“Even if she does, and I don’t think she will, the damage may already have been done. Don’t you see what will happen if those girls pass that story on to someone else? You know how fast rumor can spread here. It would be all over the community by tomorrow.”
“What if it is? I mean . . .” He stopped, obviously realizing he’d said the wrong thing.
“I see.” She kept her voice calm and her expression neutral, but it wasn’t easy. “You mean it can’t hurt you, because you’re going away. But it can hurt me. People aren’t going to want a schoolteacher who . . . who sets her cap for someone who’s working at the school.” She felt the heat come into her face again.
He didn’t speak for a moment. “Yah,” he said finally. “I’m not thinking straight. It could hurt you.”
It already has, she thought. He hadn’t even considered her in his first reaction to the problem.
“All right,” he said. “What do you think we should do?”
“I don’t want to, but this is the sort of thing I normally would feel obligated to tell the parents. I can’t handle it myself. It’s too big for that.”
“No!” He got the word out before she’d finished speaking. “You don’t know how Daad will react. He’ll be hard on Esther, and even harder on me. I don’t matter. I’m leaving anyway. But it will destroy what I have with Esther, and Daad—he’s not going to be gentle when it’s a question of his own daughter spreading malicious gossip.”
“Do you think I don’t know that?” she burst out. “That’s why I’m talking to you first. I hoped you might find some other way of handling it. But I can’t just do nothing. It would be bad for Esther to get away with it, and much worse for me. I could lose my school.”
“I know. I know.” He reached out and grabbed her hand in a tight grip. She could feel his fierce concern through it. “Just . . . will you let me talk to her? Maybe I can get through to her. I’ll make her see that the whole idea is ridiculous. If she tells the other
girls she was mistaken, it will die out without any problems.”
Maybe. She couldn’t feel sure about that, even if Thomas got through to his sister. It might already be too late. He hadn’t asked who the girls were.
Erna and Hallie . . . should she tell him they were Lydia Gaus’s daughters? She wondered, not for the first time, what Lydia had against her and the school. In any event, if they had said anything about this, it was too late to repair.
Just as it was too late for them. Ridiculous, Thomas had said about the idea of the two of them together.
But even though all her senses were shouting at her that this was the wrong way to handle it, she couldn’t deny Thomas this favor. It might be the last thing she could do for him.
“All right,” she murmured, cherishing the feel of his hand on hers. “You talk to her. I won’t tell your parents. Yet.”
* * *
—
When Dorcas hurried away, her face averted, Thomas knew that she was upset, probably regretting that she’d given in to him. Still, he couldn’t believe the situation was as dire as she believed.
After all, they weren’t teenagers. At their age, they might well be courting. The word gave him an odd feeling. Regret? If circumstances had been different, that might have been, but not with Daad so set against him. Daad didn’t want him here, so how could he stay?
No, he had nothing to offer Dorcas. To be with him meant that he’d have to ask her to leave her people behind and go off into an uncertain future with him. He had his skill, but no job.
And even if she said yes, what then? What if her mother went into a depression the way she had when Dorcas’s father was so ill? From what his mother had said, she was only now beginning to come out of it. Dorcas wouldn’t be able to live with that. They couldn’t build their happiness on other people’s sorrow.
His only choice was to leave. Dorcas was young, even though she considered herself an old maid. She could still marry one day and have a family. He couldn’t help wincing at the thought, but he had to be realistic for both of them.
Meanwhile, he had to deal with Esther. He’d have to find an opportunity to talk with her when no one was around. Once she knew what he wanted, she’d be only too glad to have it said in private. But he dreaded it.
The opportunity came after supper, when everyone else had gone outside, taking advantage of the longer daylight hours to get a few more chores done.
“You stay with your brother, in case he needs something.” Mammi gave Esther a little pat. “Play a game or something, so he doesn’t try doing things he shouldn’t.”
To his relief, Esther was happy with that idea. Smiling, she pulled a table over near his chair. “How about doing a puzzle? We have a bunch of them that you haven’t seen.”
“Okay. You pick one out.” A puzzle was just right. It would keep their hands occupied, and he’d have time to figure out what to say to her. The trouble was that there was no good way to do it. He’d just have to avoid sounding like Daad in the midst of a lecture.
They started separating the edge pieces, linking them together where they could. He suspected she had deliberately hidden the picture from him, giving herself an unfair advantage.
“Putting a puzzle together isn’t a competition,” he observed mildly.
She looked a little startled, then realized what he meant and giggled. “I thought it would make it more interesting for you if you didn’t know what it was.”
He made a doubting sound. “We’ll see about that.”
Esther matched up a few more pieces and then linked them onto his. “There. I gave you a start. Can you tell what it is?”
“Sky,” he said. “Lots of blue sky, by the looks of it.” They worked together in silence for a few minutes, and he told himself it was time, before anyone else came in from outside. “I hear you’ve been talking about Teacher Dorcas.”
Esther’s fingers froze on the piece she was moving, and her lower lip came out. “I s’pose she told you that.”
Esther’s pouting look annoyed him, chipping at his goodwill. “You’d better be glad she talked to me instead of to Daad. Can you imagine what he’d say? You know how he feels about gossip.”
She threw a piece down. “It’s not gossip if it’s true.”
“It’s not true,” he retorted. “Teacher Dorcas and I have never done a single inappropriate thing.”
Well, maybe that kiss had been inappropriate, but it hadn’t been at the school, and anyway, no one knew.
“You didn’t. You can’t even see it, but she’s trying to take you away from us.” Her voice grew more impassioned. “You were gone so long, and then you came back and everything was nice. You paid attention to me, and we were friends. Until she tried to take you away. She’s an old maid, and Erna says old maids always want to get married. She wants to marry you.”
“Now listen, Esther, you have to stop talking that way.” He knew which one Erna was . . . Lydia Gaus’s older girl. “We’re still friends—that hasn’t changed. You’re my little sister, and I love you. You know that, don’t you?”
Esther’s expression didn’t change, but she nodded slowly, so he’d have to be content with that. He went on. “Even if there was something between me and Teacher Dorcas, it wouldn’t be wrong. But there’s not, and this could be serious for her. If you start spreading rumors around, Teacher Dorcas could lose her job.”
Esther shrugged, taking on a look that reminded him of Erna. “Why should I care? Erna and Hallie say if she leaves, we’ll all go over to the Oak Creek school. They used to go there, and they say it’s a lot better than ours.”
This had gotten into deep water in a hurry. He’d imagined himself saying a few well-chosen words to Esther, maybe resulting in a few tears. Then he’d comfort her to show that he didn’t blame her, and she’d do her best to make the situation better.
Instead, Esther seemed to be someone he didn’t know. That was it, wasn’t it? Surely she couldn’t really be as callous and uncaring as that sounded.
He took a firm hold on his patience. “I don’t think you really believe any of that, do you? You’re just repeating things that Erna Gaus says. And if you think any of the parents are going to want their kids going all the way over to Oak Creek, you’d better think again.”
“I . . . Erna and Hallie say they will.” She’d begun to sound uncertain.
“Erna and Hallie don’t know as much as you think they do. And what do you suppose is going to happen to me if everybody starts talking about me and Teacher Dorcas?”
She looked at him, openmouthed. “Nothing . . . nothing will happen to you. Will it?”
“Maybe you should have asked your friends that.” He’d like to tell them a few sharp things himself. “What do you think Daad will say? He’ll blame me, and that will be the last straw. I’ll have to leave again.”
He was going to leave anyway, and he felt traitorous about not telling her that. Still, it would complicate everything if she knew.
“Well? Is that what you want?” he demanded.
Tears welled slowly in her eyes. “I didn’t know. I didn’t think.”
“That’s about the size of it. You didn’t think. You just listened to other people’s ideas and swallowed them, and now you’ve caused trouble for everyone.”
“I didn’t mean to cause trouble for you. I just wanted you to pay attention to me.”
“Esther, I’ll always pay attention to you, but that doesn’t mean I can’t talk to anyone else. And even if I’m not always here, I’m still your big brother. Nothing changes that.”
Her mouth trembled. “I . . . I’m sorry.”
He winced at the tears in her voice. Still, she had to learn. “Gossip gets out of control. Once something is spoken, you can’t take it back. You don’t know what damage it will do.”
“But I don’t want it to. I have to st
op it.” She shoved the pieces together on the table. “What can I do?”
That’s where he’d thought they’d be a lot quicker. But at least now she saw, and he didn’t think she’d be so eager to buy Erna’s stories another time.
“You’d best do what you can to make it right. Tell Erna and Hallie you found out it’s not true. Tell them if they talk about it, they’ll bring terrible trouble not just to other people, but to themselves. I sure won’t be quiet about them if the worst happens.”
Esther shot to her feet. “I’ll go call right now. I can leave a message not to say anything. And tomorrow I’ll make sure they don’t. I will, I promise.”
She fled without waiting for a response. Just as well, because he didn’t have anything reassuring to say. He thought she understood now, and it wasn’t an easy lesson to learn. But what if it was already too late?
* * *
—
Dorcas trudged up the path leading home, tired and upset. Her inner self was telling her that she’d made the wrong decision in not going directly to Esther’s parents, but she knew that if she had it to do over again, she’d do the same. Thomas had lost so much of his family already thanks to her cowardice. She couldn’t ruin his fragile relationship with his little sister.
Thomas didn’t seem to see what was really behind Esther’s actions. It wasn’t just a question of being indiscreet, or of eagerness to have important news to share. Esther was jealous of her.
Esther had all the teenage girl’s awareness of romance in the air without the common sense to understand it. She’d sensed their feelings for each other even if she hadn’t seen anything suggestive.
Poor Esther. She wanted to be important in her brother’s life. She’d probably see anyone who drew his attention away from her as an enemy. The fact that Dorcas was her teacher simply made it even worse.
If there was a way out of this whole situation that wouldn’t end up hurting anyone, Dorcas couldn’t see it.
