“Okay.” Lily started in on another carrot stick.
Clara shared another amused glance with Ethan. He really did have a nice smile. What did he do for fun?
He should take the children to the Independence Day fair that was coming up in Hope Springs. It would be good for them to do something fun together as a family. She decided not to mention anything in front of the children in case Ethan didn’t like the idea, but she tucked it away in her mind to bring up later.
After the meal was over, she began to clear the table, but Ethan stopped her. “You’ve done enough for one day. We can finish this.”
“It won’t take long.” Clara continued gathering the dishes. She wasn’t used to leaving work undone.
“Stop, Clara. You were our guest this evening.” His tone was stern, but his expression was kind.
“I don’t mind,” she assured him, and picked up his plate.
He took it away from her. “I do. Micah can finish clearing the table. I’ll do these later.” He carried the plate to the counter and began filling the sink with water.
Micah came around the table and started picking up the silverware. Clara leaned close to him and whispered, “I’m sorry. I know it is woman’s work.”
A reluctant smile tugged at the corner of the boy’s mouth but he was able to subdue it. “It’s okay. I used to do it for Mamm all the time.”
“I know she appreciated it as much as I do.” Clara gathered her things and tied her dark bonnet over her kapp. The day had had some rough moments, but it had ended in a good place. Perhaps things would go better for all of them after this.
Ethan turned off the water when the sink was full. “I’ll harness Buttercup for you.”
“Danki.”
He held the door open for her. As she walked past him, her jitters returned in full force. Could it be because she was beginning to like him? More than a little?
The thought was unnerving, but she realized it was true. She did like him. A lot. He was an attractive man, and kind, too. She wondered why he didn’t have a wife.
What did he think of her? She was afraid to contemplate that answer after the way she had acted that morning. At least he thought enough of her to let her continue caring for his children. She needed to remember that she was here for that reason alone and not to foster an infatuation for Ethan.
When he had Buttercup hooked to the cart, he came around to her side and held out his hand to help her in. It was a simple gesture. One that dozens of men had done for her in her lifetime. Only none of them had been like Ethan. None of them made her heart race the way Ethan did as his hand closed around hers.
Chapter Eight
Ethan held Clara’s hand slightly longer than he needed to as she climbed aboard her cart. He was reluctant to let go. He studied her face carefully. This time there was no fear in her eyes. Instead, he saw a warm glow that made him wish she wasn’t leaving so soon. She slipped her hand away from him and picked up the reins. He tried quickly for a way to prolong the conversation. He patted the cart wheel. “Be careful driving home. The Englisch drivers go faster and faster these days.”
“I am careful. I keep to the side of the road as much as possible. My cart is narrow, so they can pass me easily.”
“How does Buttercup handle in traffic?”
“About like this.” The pony was standing with one hip cocked and his head down. His nose almost touched the ground. He could have been asleep on his feet for all the energy he displayed.
Ethan chuckled. “Maybe you should get an extra-large slow-moving-vehicle sign for the back and one that says Please Don’t Honk. Pony Sleeping.”
“Sometimes I think I would get home more quickly if I put him in the cart and got between the traces myself.”
He smiled at that. She had a charming sense of humor. The smile that gently curved her lips intrigued him. Hopefully, he would see it more often in the coming weeks.
She glanced his way. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of the children, but a week from this Friday is the Fourth of July. There’s going to be a celebration in Hope Springs. I hear that many Amish families in this area plan to attend. Will you be going?”
It was almost an invitation. She was overcoming her shyness around him, and he liked that. “I do intend to take the children. I know they’ll enjoy the activities.”
“It will be good for all of you.”
He leaned on the wheel of her cart. “Is your family going?
“As far as I know. I’m not sure about my grandfather. He is something of a recluse. He doesn’t care for crowds.”
“Perhaps his new wife will convince him to brave the masses.”
“You might be right. Naomi loves market day and chatting with everyone who is there.”
Ethan racked his brain for another subject. In the lull, Clara said, “I should get going. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He had no choice but to step away from her cart. “Until tomorrow.”
He watched her drive away, beset with a sense of loss and a burning desire to see the sun rise again.
* * *
Clara was up early the next morning, eager to return to Ethan’s house. Eager to see him. She actually felt like singing, but she refrained. Lizzie was still asleep on the other side of the bed. It was hard for Clara to remember the last time she had felt so happy.
After brushing out her nighttime braid, she wound her long hair into a coil at the back of her head and secured it with pins. She settled her prayer kapp on her head and pinned it, taking a moment to pray for Ethan and his children as she did so. It was still dark outside the windows, so she slipped from the room without waking her sister. To her surprise, Greta and Betsy were waiting for her at the kitchen table.
She smiled at them. “I’ve never known you two to be up before me.”
Betsy and Greta exchanged a serious look. Clara’s mirth drained away. “What is it?”
Greta placed her hands on the table and interlaced her fingers. “Betsy told me that she spoke with Ethan Gingerich yesterday.”
“I know. He gave me your message, Betsy.” She walked to the cabinet and took down a mug. She already knew what they wanted to speak to her about, but she wasn’t eager to visit the subject.
“Ethan told me you had a dizzy spell. He said you looked terrified. What’s going on, Clara? Are you sick?”
She kept her back to her sisters as she added a tea bag to her mug and poured hot water from the kettle that was always kept warming on the back of the stove. “He was making a mountain out of a molehill. It was nothing.”
“Clearly, it was enough to worry him,” Greta said. “Did he frighten you, Clara? You can tell us if he did. You don’t have to go back there.”
Clara turned around to see her sisters watching her intently with deep concern in their eyes. She sighed. “You are going to think that I’m crazy.”
“No, we won’t,” Betsy assured her.
“I don’t know why not, for I think I must be crazy.”
“Tell us what happened,” Greta said gently.
“One minute I was standing in Ethan’s kitchen with a jar of jam in my hand. In the next second, I was back in our onkel’s house. I was in the pantry getting something off the shelf and Rufus came in. He grabbed me and put his hand over my mouth.
“It wasn’t real, but it felt so real. I could smell him. I started shouting and trying to get away from him. When I opened my eyes, I was backed into the corner of Ethan’s kitchen. He was looking at me like I was a madwoman. Am I a madwoman?”
She desperately needed to know what had happened to her. Maybe she shouldn’t be taking care of the children.
Greta got up from the table, took the mug from Clara’s hands and set it on the counter, then she put her arms around Clara and hugged her tight. “You are not insa
ne. It’s called a flashback, and it can happen after any traumatic event.”
“A flashback.” It had a name. Somehow, that made it easier to think about.
Greta held her at arm’s length and gazed into Clara’s eyes. “Did you get away from Rufus that day?”
Clara knew what her sister was asking. She nodded. “He had no chance to harm me for our onkel came in, but I knew his intention.”
Greta pulled Clara into another hug. Betsy raced to join them and embraced them both. “I praise God for His mercy.”
Clara allowed her sisters’ love and compassion to seep into the wounds she carried.
When they drew back, Betsy asked, “Why didn’t you tell us this sooner?”
“I was so ashamed of what happened. I thought it was somehow my fault.”
Greta shook her. “The shame was not yours. The shame belongs to Rufus. You did nothing wrong.”
A huge weight lifted from Clara’s heart. She hadn’t realized how heavy the burden had been until this moment. Clara gazed at Greta. “Will this flashback happen to me again?”
“It’s possible, but now that you have shared what happened to you, the healing can start. You must let us know if it happens again.”
“I will.” She laid her hands on Greta’s and Betsy’s cheeks. “The Lord truly blessed me when He gave me little sisters to look after. I had no idea He sent them to look after me, too.” Her words triggered another round of hugs.
“I can’t believe you are all up already, what’s going on?” Lizzie asked from the doorway as she rubbed sleep from her eyes.
Clara held out her arm, inviting Lizzie into the group. “Come and we will tell you all about it.”
Surrounded by her loving family, Clara was able to tell the story again without the fear and shame that had kept her silent before, and she thanked God for the blessings of her sisters.
* * *
The rest of the week flew by for Clara. The little children adjusted well to her presence, and even Micah seemed to tolerate her. He had only one outburst. It wasn’t as bad as his previous behaviors, but she sensed he was still angry inside.
Ethan stayed for breakfast each morning and Clara joined the family to share the meal. They were able to discuss what needed doing around the farm that day and make sure each of the children understood any new tasks that they were being assigned. On Saturday, Clara stayed for supper and this time Ethan allowed her to clean up afterward...with his help.
He dried the last dish and put it in the cupboard. It had taken much longer than usual to finish the chore, but neither of them was in a hurry. He said, “I spoke to your grandfather this afternoon and we walked over the areas he wants thinned out. I plan to start work there on Monday. It’s not a big grove, but there is enough timber to keep me busy for two days. Do you want to come here and spend the days with the children or would you rather I bring them with me and you can watch them at your home?”
“It would be fun to have them at my place. It will give them new places to explore.”
“And hide,” he said. They shared an amused glance.
“How are you going to keep Lily from trying to sneak a lamb home?” she asked.
He chuckled. “I’m depending on you to keep your grandfather’s flock intact. Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Not at all. My sisters will want to help and that will make my job easier.”
“Goot. I will bring the children to you until I have your grandfather’s timber cut and hauled out.”
He was quiet for a few moments as she wiped down the counters and table. When she laid her dishcloth over the faucet, she was done. There wasn’t any more work for her to draw out. It was time to leave.
He leaned against the counter. “It’s been a good week for me, Clara.”
She blushed. “For me, too.”
“If I had known how much easier my life would be with a nanny I would have hired one weeks ago.”
A nanny. Any nanny. Not specifically Clara Barkman.
She couldn’t suppress the small twinge of dismay his words caused, but she quickly told herself it didn’t matter. She wasn’t seeking praise. Another woman could have done the job as well as she. It was prideful to think otherwise. If she was hired as the new teacher, another woman would take her place with this family.
Her sister Betsy had worried that the children might become too attached to her, even in a few short weeks. No one mentioned that Clara might become too attached to the family. She needed to keep her emotions in check. She was the hired girl, nothing more. With that thought in mind, she gathered her things and went to the living room. “Micah, please hitch up my pony.”
“Okay.” He reluctantly went out.
“Is everything all right, Clara?” Ethan was watching her closely.
“Of course. Why do you ask?” She stood by the door waiting to leave as soon as Micah brought the cart around. She didn’t look at Ethan.
“No reason. Have a pleasant Sunday.”
“The same to you.” Hurry up, Micah.
A few minutes later, he came in to tell her Buttercup was waiting outside. Clara said good-night to him and started out the door. She paused to look back. Ethan and Micah had gone to the living room. Ethan took a seat in his wing-backed chair in front of the fireplace and opened the newspaper. Micah sat on the sofa and opened a book. Lily came to Ethan with a book of her own. “Onkel Ethan, will you read me a story, please?”
He put his paper aside and lifted the girl onto his lap. Amos came and wiggled into the chair beside them. Micah closed his book and moved closer to them on the sofa.
Clara smiled softly as she closed the door. Ethan was slowly finding his way to becoming a parent and she was glad for him. He would be a good father if he just gave himself a chance. He needed someone to believe in him the way her sisters believed in her.
It was too bad that she couldn’t be that person.
Chapter Nine
Early on Sunday morning, Clara piled into the back of her grandfather’s buggy along with all her sisters. Her grandfather and Naomi sat in the front. The trip took nearly an hour, for it was at the home of Daniel Hershberger and his wife, Susan, on the other side of Hope Springs. Daniel was a prominent businessman in the community. A few people complained that he wasn’t humble enough for an Amish man, and that his successful business made him prideful, but his wife was everything Daniel was not. A plain woman who had married late in life, Susan was modest, humble and able to keep her husband’s extravagance in line.
Although it was a little before eight o’clock in the morning when Clara’s family arrived, it was already growing warm. Instead of using the Hershbergers’ home for the service, the men were finishing arranging the long backless benches in the lower level of Daniel’s barn. The large doors were open at both ends of the structure to allow the breeze to blow through. The benches were divided into two sections, one for the women and one for the men. A few chairs had been carried out from the house for some of the elderly members.
Clara and her sisters took their places among the unmarried women and girls near the back in their section. The current schoolteacher, Leah Belier, came in and sat in front of Clara. Beside her was Joy Mast, a young girl with Down syndrome. Joy proceeded to say hello to everyone close to her with waves and hugs.
Leah, like Clara’s sister Lizzie, planned to marry in the fall. Leah would wed Joy’s father, Caleb Mast. She smiled at him across the aisle and he smiled back. It was easy to see they were in love. His daughter ran to hug him. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and sent her back to Leah. Although most Amish engagements were kept secret by the young couples, Joy had announced, to everyone’s amusement, her father’s intention to marry her teacher at the school Christmas program last winter.
As Clara watched Leah rein in Joy’s exuberance
, she realized that Leah, with her years of experience as a teacher, might be able to give Clara some insight into dealing with Micah’s behavior. She decided to make a point of speaking to the teacher when the preaching service was over.
Clara glanced at her sister. Lizzie was smiling, too. Not at Joy’s antics, but at Carl King sitting across the aisle. Clara sighed. It would be nice if Ethan and his family belonged to the same church district so that she could see them on Sunday as well as every other day of the week. It was her first morning away from them, and she was missing them already.
The whispering and rustling among the congregation grew quiet when Bishop Zook and the two preachers came in. Clara picked up the Ausbund from the bench beside her and opened the hymnal as she waited for the singing to begin. Throughout the three-hour service, she found it hard to keep her mind on the bishop’s and the preachers’ words as they took turns speaking about God’s presence in their lives. More often than not, thoughts of Ethan intruded. He would be attending a service much like this one. Was Lily behaving? Were Amos and Micah fidgeting, eager for the preaching to end? Would they make friends after the service and join other children their age in play?
When the preaching was finished at last, Clara and her sisters helped set out the food while the men rearranged the benches and set up tables for the noon meal beneath the shade of several large trees at the side of the house. When she was done with her work, Clara went looking for Leah and found her supervising a dozen youngsters getting ready to play Duck, Duck, Goose inside the barn.
Clara waited until the game was underway before she spoke. “Leah, have you a few minutes you can spare?”
“Certainly. Have you heard from the school board yet?”
“Nee, not a word.”
“That’s odd. A teacher, especially a new one, needs time to prepare her lesson plans for the year. They should let you know something soon.”
“Do you know who else has applied?” Clara wondered if there was someone more qualified than she was.
“I believe three other women. Sally Yoder, a newcomer named Melinda Miller and Samuel Stutzman’s niece, Deborah Stutzman. He’s on the school board, so I have no idea which one of you they will choose. If they ask me, I’ll put in a good word for you. I think you would make a wonderful teacher.”
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