A Springtime Heart

by Marta Perry

  “He does have a head for heights,” Thomas said, thinking about how long it had been since he’d done something with both of his brothers.

  “The last barn-raising, he worked up on the roof without a second thought.” Jonas was watching his younger brother with reluctant admiration.

  “Wish I could see how he’s setting that piece in.” Thomas couldn’t seem to help fretting. “No, what I really wish is that I could be doing it myself.”

  “He’ll be okay.” Jonas glanced at him. “I wouldn’t have told him to go up otherwise.”

  Adam, probably overhearing, looked down at them. “Are you talking about me?” he asked suspiciously.

  “Why not?” Thomas said. “Jonas says you’re okay up there.”

  “He does?” Adam, sitting on a crosspiece with his legs dangling, actually looked surprised.

  “I do, yah,” Jonas said. “Just don’t make a liar of me by doing something stupid.”

  Thomas nodded in agreement. “If you do, you’ll have two big brothers jumping on you with both feet. Just remember it.”

  Adam grimaced. “That’s what it is to be the youngest. I’ll be good. Honest.”

  Watching him move around easily, Thomas had to admit that Adam probably did it better than he did. He shrugged. “He’s good, I know. Don’t think I’m not grateful to the two of you. It’s just that this is my work. I don’t want someone else doing my job.”

  Jonas’s eyes seemed to narrow. “Our jobs are important to us. We get edgy if we think someone else might want them.”

  Thomas caught the meaning. “I told you. I don’t want your job. I’ve got my own to do.”

  “Yah, I know that now. It shouldn’t have taken me so long to see it.”

  Thomas realized that was as close to an apology as Jonas was able to come. But it was enough for him. He smiled at Jonas.

  The color came up in his brother’s face, and he seemed to be trying to find a way to change the subject.

  “So how are the cousins? I haven’t seen them in years. They must be getting grown up.”

  Thomas nodded, willing enough to talk about something else. “They’re all good. You wouldn’t know Emmy—she’s sixteen and has half the boys in the church district crazy over her. She’ll drive her daad crazy before she’s done.”

  Jonas relaxed enough to grin. “She was flirting with everyone when she was only six at that wedding we went to. Guess I’m not surprised.”

  “No.” He watched Adam for another moment. “You know, a kid who’s a flirt doesn’t change. And one who’s daring in one thing might well be daring in another.”

  “I know.” Jonas glanced at Adam, too. “He’s not going to have as quiet a rumspringa as I did, that’s certain sure.” He frowned. “He needs someone to talk to, but I’m no good. We argue too much, and he probably thinks I’d go straight to Daad. He’s talked to you, hasn’t he? Adam, I mean.”

  “A little. Seems like he didn’t listen very well. I’ve been away too long. That’s the problem. If he knew me better, I could do more.”

  “You’re not to blame for that. At least you can guide him away from the worst choices.”

  The hammering stopped just then, and Thomas lowered his voice. “No one who knows my history would think I was a good person to guide the young.”

  “He trusts you anyway. That’s the most important.”

  He couldn’t deny that it gave him pleasure to hear his brother say that. “Won’t do any good if I’m not here.”

  Jonas looked genuinely surprised at that. “But you’re staying, ain’t so? I mean, Dorcas . . .”

  So he thought that, too. Did everyone in the valley?

  “I can’t stay if Daad can’t trust me. Or forgive me.”

  Jonas caught the point right away. He could see the recognition in his brother’s eyes. Daad’s high standards affected all of them, one way or another, and not always for the good.

  * * *

  —

  Dorcas remained conscious of the noise from the barn for the rest of the afternoon. She hoped Thomas was being sensible and letting his brothers handle the work. Thomas was usually sensible, but when he thought something was his duty, he didn’t care what risks he took. The way he had when he’d gone to that Englisch party with her.

  It kept coming back to that in her mind. Thomas said that his father had stopped trusting long before that, but the truth was that it wouldn’t have come to a head if it hadn’t been for her foolishness combined with Thomas’s mistaken chivalry. He should have let her take the consequences of her own actions.

  She shivered at the thought. Thomas had been much braver than she was. In a crisis, she’d taken the easy way out. And Thomas had taken the blame.

  Anna caught her gaze and looked meaningfully at the clock. Startled by the time, Dorcas pulled herself together.

  “Let’s clean up the materials from your posters now. Be sure the tops are secure on the glue bottles.”

  She and Anna would have to check them again, of course, but she was a believer in the value of continuing reminders. Children’s attention was fleeting at times, especially when they were excited. There was a rustle of movement throughout the room as the cleanup began.

  Joseph’s hand went up, and she nodded to him. “May we go and speak to Thomas before we leave? Just to see how he is?”

  She glanced out the window and smiled. “You won’t have to. I see him coming now.”

  Sure enough, Thomas was approaching the front door. He probably wanted to be sure the children weren’t tempted to go out to the stable and get in the way, which was definitely what they’d want to do.

  She nodded to Joseph, who hurried to open the door. Grinning, he exchanged a few words with Thomas while Dorcas walked back to join him. Every face in the room swiveled toward Thomas.

  “Let’s be quiet for a moment, please, before you’re dismissed. Thomas wants to say a few words to you.” She gestured to Thomas, who rolled his eyes, probably at the thought of speaking in front of the class.

  “I won’t keep you. I just wanted to thank all of you for being so helpful when I had my accident this week.” He paused, and a little voice piped up.

  Matthew, of course, who was always ready to talk. “But we didn’t do anything,” he said, sounding disappointed.

  “For sure you did. All of you cooperated with your teacher so she could do what had to be done. I’m sure Teacher Dorcas and Anna would agree that was a big help.”

  Matthew considered for a moment, and then he nodded.

  “I don’t remember what everyone did.” Thomas made a face. “Mostly because I knocked myself silly. But thanks to Esther and Joseph and Benjamin, especially.”

  Joseph and Benjamin flushed and ducked their heads in embarrassment. But Esther . . . Esther’s face glowed at the approval from her big brother. Dorcas nodded. He’d done that exactly right.

  The scholars seemed to have a number of questions . . . everything from how it felt to ride in an ambulance to what he was doing when he fell. Thomas set about answering them, and Dorcas could let her thoughts follow their own track.

  She saw again Esther’s glowing smile. It was no secret that she adored her brother. If . . . when . . . he went away again, she would take it hard. Had Thomas thought about that? Most likely.

  His brothers would be hurting at the idea, too. It had done her heart good to hear them laughing and joking with each other just as if Thomas’s exile had never happened. Thomas had been mending fences with the rest of his family in the short time he’d been back.

  But she knew Thomas wouldn’t stay without his father’s forgiveness. His father’s opinion meant so much to him, and she wondered if Minister Lucas even knew how much. Thomas would leave again, and whatever the rights and wrongs of the first time, this time it would all be on his father.

  How did
Lucas rationalize that? Certainly many people in the community admired him for the way he tried to live up to the standards of his calling in his everyday life. But did they realize the cost of his standards?

  Lucas was choosing one right thing over another right thing. How did anyone do that? How did a mere mortal choose between justice and mercy? Do justice, love mercy, walk humbly with your God.

  Every Amish child had it drilled into him from an early age to be humble, not expecting praise for doing what he should or thinking more of himself than others. Minister Lucas must surely approve of that. But how did he balance justice and mercy when he was dealing with his own son?

  Impossible to know, and she had no right to judge. But her heart was torn for all of them.

  Thomas was leaning against one of the children’s desks, looking tired. He’d been trying to do too much, and that didn’t surprise her.

  “All right, scholars. Thomas has answered enough questions for today. Go on out, please.”

  With a few murmured comments to Thomas, they filed out, talking and jostling one another as always. Esther went to Thomas and leaned against him. Dorcas saw him wince and had to bite her tongue to keep from speaking. It was up to Thomas, not her.

  Thomas patted Esther’s shoulder. “Will you run out to the stable and say I’ll be ready in a couple of minutes? You may as well stay and ride home with us. It’ll be a squash, but that’s okay.”

  “I don’t mind.” Esther beamed. “I’ll tell them.” She hurried off.

  Thomas gave a sigh of relief. “I’m wonderful glad we’re friends again, but I wish she wasn’t so heavy when she hangs on me.”

  Dorcas’s worries dissolved in a chuckle. “That’s the cost of being her favorite brother,” she teased.

  “Only for the moment. She’ll switch off pretty soon, ain’t so?”

  She nodded, smiling. “I’m wonderful glad you took the time to talk with my scholars. The accident was the most exciting thing that had happened in school all month, so they’re still talking about it.”

  He grimaced. “I’d rather forget it, but I understand. I remember how I was at that age. I just hope that’s the end of it. Maybe you’d better put some more excitement on the calendar.”

  “All I have in the way of excitement is the spring program, I’m afraid. They’ll have to be satisfied with that.”

  Dorcas stepped back, suddenly aware that they were alone together in the schoolhouse, probably not the wisest thing they could do. The voices of the children had died away outside, and they were probably off rushing home to tell their parents about seeing Thomas. “If you’re ready to leave . . .”

  “Not so fast.” Thomas caught her wrist and held it, and she was sure he could feel her pulse pounding against his palm.

  She tugged against it, but his grasp tightened. “If people are talking about us, this isn’t wise,” she pointed out.

  “I know, but I’ve got to talk to you alone. What other chance do we have?”

  The desperate note in his voice silenced anything else she might say. They had so little time . . . it couldn’t be wrong to seize what few moments they had.

  “It won’t take much longer to finish the work here, especially with my brothers helping.”

  “It’s wonderful good that they want to help you.” But she was weeping inside at the way time was fleeing.

  “Yah.” He pondered for a moment, frowning, the vertical lines between his eyebrows deepening. “Everyone but Daad is coming around. But he’s the one who counts.” He took a deep breath. “As soon as the work is done, I’ll go.”

  His grip slackened, but now it was her turn to clasp both of his hands in hers.

  “Please, Thomas. Please listen. Won’t you try talking to your father?”

  The lines of bitterness carved themselves deeper. “Why? So he can tell me again what a bad influence I am? Maybe this time he’ll come right out and tell me to leave.”

  “Don’t.” She couldn’t help the pained outcry. “Can’t you just try? Talk to him without anger and tell him how you feel. Even say that if he can’t forgive you, you’ll have to leave. At least give him a chance to consider what he’s doing.”

  “More like giving him a chance to kick me out,” he muttered.

  She clasped his hands tightly, hoping he could feel her love flowing through them. “For the sake of your family, can’t you try?”

  “My family?” His gaze seemed to penetrate her skin, as if he saw right into her.

  Feeling as if she held her heart in her hands, she added, “For me, then. Give us a chance.”

  He hesitated, and she could see the struggle inside him. If only he could . . .

  He started to answer, but the schoolhouse door swung open. Lydia Gaus stood there, staring at them. Seeing them alone in the empty school, holding hands, looking at each other with their hearts in their eyes.

  “Well!” Lydia put a wealth of meaning into the word. “That’s just what I thought. This time you’re not going to get away with it. We’ll just see what Minister Lucas thinks about this.”

  She slammed the door, disappearing from their sight. “Wait. Let me explain—” Dorcas tried to go after her.

  Thomas held her still. “It’s no use, Dorcas. Nothing we say will matter to her.” His face twisted in pain. “I’m sorry. I cause nothing but trouble for anyone who cares for me.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Dorcas tried vainly to cope with this double disaster. Not only had Lydia Gaus found them in what she was sure to call a compromising situation, but Thomas had reverted to blaming himself for all of it. She couldn’t bear the thought that he’d attempt to take the blame for this misfortune, just as he had all those years ago.

  “You’re not thinking straight.” She forced herself to sound calm, even though she felt anything but. “Lydia is out to close the school, and she thinks she can do it by getting rid of me. You were just caught in it because you’re here.”

  “If I weren’t here . . . if I hadn’t come back . . .”

  “Then you wouldn’t have healed your relationship with your mother and your sister and brothers. That’s worth a great deal, isn’t it?”

  She wasn’t getting through to him. She could see it in his face. He was as remote as if he’d already left Promise Glen behind.

  Thomas took a step back from her. “That sounds like Esther and the boys. They’re probably ready to leave. Don’t say anything about it to them.”

  “But we have to. Lydia isn’t going to let it drop. They’ll find out anyway. Isn’t it better if they hear it from us?”

  He rubbed his forehead as if trying to clarify his thoughts. “Esther—she can’t know. Don’t you see?”

  In his concern for his sister, he seemed to revert to himself again.

  “You mean she’ll think it’s her gossip that brought this on.” It was true in a way, but not in the way he thought. “She’s just a bystander to Lydia. Like you, she’s a tool to pry me out of the school. If it hadn’t been this, it would be something else. If only she’d give some idea of why she feels that way, maybe I could deal with her. But it’s not Esther’s fault.”

  “Esther won’t believe that. She’ll blame herself.”

  Dorcas’s temper flared unexpectedly. “It seems to me that people in your family are entirely too ready to blame themselves for everything that goes wrong.” Except for Minister Lucas, and in her opinion, he had a lot to answer for.

  Footsteps sounded on the porch, and Thomas took her hand in a fierce grip. It seemed she could feel the pounding of his heart through his touch.

  “Don’t say anything. Not now. I’ll deal with it.” Then he was turning toward the door, where Adam and Esther appeared.

  “Jonas is bringing the buggy around. You want us to drop you at home, Teacher Dorcas? It’ll be a squeeze, but we can manage.”

 
“No, denke.” She forced what she hoped looked like a smile, knowing it was probably a grimace. “I have to get some things together before I leave.”

  They didn’t argue, probably eager to get Thomas home before their mother blamed them for keeping him too long. It was just as well, as she needed a little quiet to absorb the disaster that had fallen so quickly on her.

  But Thomas paused long enough on his way out the door to give her a commanding look. He didn’t have to speak to make his meaning clear. Don’t say anything.

  Dorcas waited until she’d heard the buggy go out the drive before she moved. Then, focusing on what she was doing, she got ready to go home.

  Put the gradebook and the arithmetic papers in the bag. Pick it up, walk to the door. Don’t look back, don’t think that this might be the last time you do this. Lock the door, walk away.

  Once she was no longer in sight of the school, Dorcas found she could think a little more clearly. What, really, had happened? Lydia had come unexpectedly into the schoolhouse and found her there with Thomas. Was that really so bad? Thomas was working on the outbuildings. There might be a dozen reasons why she had to talk to him after school hours.

  Come to think of it, what had brought Lydia there after school hours? She hadn’t come to pick up the girls, since she’d know they’d already gone home. Had they told her something that had brought her storming here to confront Dorcas?

  She had assumed that if the Gaus girls had been going to spread the rumor Esther started, it would have been as soon as they’d heard it. But maybe Lydia had been busy mapping out her plans to get rid of Dorcas. Was it personal, or would she have felt the same no matter who the teacher was?

  Whatever her reason, it had happened, and she’d found exactly what she’d hoped to find—Dorcas alone with Thomas. At least she hadn’t been in Thomas’s arms. She almost wished she had been. If Thomas were to leave immediately, she longed to have one last embrace to remember.

  What would Lydia do first? Go to the school board? Well, that was probably on her agenda. But she’d said something about Minister Lucas. She’d said, “Wait until he hears about this,” or words to that effect.