As they drove their grandfather’s buggy into Hope Springs, the traffic grew heavier and slower as the Englisch cars and trucks were forced to an Amish crawl. No faster than the slowest horse in the line. Greta, the one who was driving, turned off Main Street onto Lake Street. The regular weekly farmer’s market was held in a large grassy area next to the town’s lumberyard. Today, the area had been given over to the fair. A Ferris wheel towered over the numerous games and booths lined up across the lawn. Tents had their red, white and blue striped sides rolled up to allow the breezes to blow through and fairgoers to view the wares within.
Already a number of tourists were strolling about looking to buy homemade Amish baked goods, cheese, soaps, dried flower arrangements and the ever-popular hand-stitched quilts. Many of the tourists carried cameras, but for the most part, they respected the Amish desire not to be photographed.
Clara kept a sharp lookout for Ethan and the children but she didn’t see them. Had he changed his mind about coming?
“I wish Grandfather would have come.” Greta steered their buggy into an empty spot.
“Maybe next year,” Lizzie said. “I can’t believe he talked Naomi into staying home with him. We should do something nice for her. Her birthday is coming up. Why don’t we host a party for her?”
“A picnic,” Clara said and they all agreed.
“This fair is fantastic!” Betsy’s eyes were as big as saucers as she took in the sights.
“What shall we see first?” Lizzie asked.
“Everything,” Betsy and Greta said together. They looked at each other and burst out laughing.
If Clara could have used one word to describe the morning, it would’ve been frantic. Betsy and Greta were serious when they said they wanted to see everything. The sisters visited every tent at least twice and even marveled at the shiny farming machinery lined up for display by a local implement company. The sisters sampled candy, cookies and cheese-covered pretzels as well as fresh lemonade.
The sight of a black alpaca tethered beside a tent being put up alerted Clara to where her friend Faith Lapp had her yarns on display.
Clara stopped to talk to Faith’s son Kyle and stroke the alpaca’s soft fleece while her sisters examined the yarns Faith had for sale. A man’s voice said, “I understand they spit.”
She knew it was Ethan before she turned around. At the sight of him, her heart gave a funny little jump before speeding up. The whole day grew brighter.
“They only do it when they are upset or frightened,” Kyle explained.
Clara stepped between Ethan and the animal and held her hands palms down. “Stay still. Don’t make any sudden moves. You’ll be all right.”
He chuckled. “Are you protecting me from the wild beast?”
“That’s what friends do. They do not try to make their friend climb a scary ladder.”
“Will I be forgiven for that anytime soon?”
“Maybe, but first I have to know if it was your idea for Amos to climb onto the roof in the first place.”
“Nee, the kinder thought that up all on their own.”
“Then you are forgiven. Where are the children?” she asked, looking around.
He gestured toward a nearby tent where ice-cream cones were being sold. Micah, Amos and Lily were waiting in line with a dozen other children. Amos was in animated conversation with another boy his own age. “Amos has made a new friend. His name is Andy Stutzman. I think Lily is feeling a little left out.”
“Perhaps she will make a new friend, too.”
“Are you enjoying yourself?” Ethan asked.
“Immensely.” And much more now that he was here.
“Where is your family?”
Clara looked around for her sisters but they were nowhere in sight. “I don’t know. They were here a minute ago.”
“So my children aren’t the only people you have trouble keeping track of?”
She laughed softly. “Apparently not.”
“May I buy my friend an ice-cream cone to make up for teasing her?”
She tipped her head to the side. “I believe you may.”
* * *
Ethan had many acquaintances in the Hope Springs area but none that he would call a friend. Clara was changing that and so much more in his life.
They could be friends. Their relationship did not have to become complicated. If he was careful, it wouldn’t.
They stood in line with the children. It took a while for Clara to make up her mind between strawberry and vanilla, but she eventually settled on strawberry and they were able to go in search of her sisters. The Barkman girls were together at one of the tents. A salesman had convinced Betsy to try his battery-operated steaming floor mop. She looked up, wide-eyed, when she caught sight of Clara. “You have to try this.”
“That looks interesting.” Clara handed her cone to Ethan and went to join the demonstration. Before long, all four of the sisters were racing to mop a ten-foot-by-ten-foot square of linoleum, and Clara’s melting ice cream was dripping over his fingers. It was a small price to pay to see her giggling and happy with her family.
When she returned to him, he handed her the soggy cone. She took it. “I’m sorry I’ve made a mess for you. Put your hand on the floor, and I’ll mop over it.”
He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dried his hand. “The old-fashioned way works just as well for me. Are you going to buy one?” He tipped his head toward the display.
She grinned and shook her head. “Nee, the old-fashioned way works fine for me, too.” She turned to the children standing behind him. “On second thought, I wonder if they have one for faces.”
Micah was pretty clean, but Amos and Lily had managed to get as much ice cream on their chins and cheeks as they had in their mouths. Ethan put his handkerchief to good use.
The afternoon and evening passed all too quickly. Clara’s sisters joined them as they visited the small midway and allowed the children, and the young women, to ride the carousel several times. Clara adamantly refused to step onto the Ferris wheel, but Micah was brave enough to join Ethan on the ride.
As darkness fell, they laid out their quilts on the hillside. Carl King joined them and sat with Lizzie. A young man Ethan didn’t know came over to their group. Betsy introduced him as Alvin Stutzman. He settled awkwardly onto the blanket after greeting everyone, but he kept his eyes on Betsy’s face.
Clara leaned close to Ethan and whispered, “I think he is sweet on Betsy.”
Ethan couldn’t decide if Betsy liked the boy or not. “How does she feel about him?”
“I think it is too early to tell.”
“I hope she treats him with kindness.” He couldn’t help the stab of bitterness in his tone.
“I hope he treats her kindly, as well,” Clara said, and shivered slightly.
“Are you cold?” He laid his hand over hers.
“I’m fine. It must be the excitement. I’ve never seen a fireworks display before,” she said quickly.
He wasn’t fooled. That same flash of fear had passed across her face, but this time she didn’t shriek and pull away. “You can tell me if something is wrong.”
She quickly regained her composure and squeezed his hand. “I appreciate your concern, my friend, but I’m fine.”
The first rocket burst into a shower of sparks overhead. Clara was soon clapping and shrieking with delight just as the children were. He was left to wonder exactly what had caused such fear in her eyes. Would she ever tell him?
Chapter Eleven
The week after the Fourth of July celebration proved to Clara that Ethan and the children were on the right path at last. Micah, although occasionally moody, hadn’t caused any trouble and was proving to be helpful. He took good care of Olga and her new calf. He did his chores w
ithout being reminded and helped Clara with anything she needed doing around the farm.
With a steady stream of work locally, Ethan was able to be home each evening. Clara stayed for supper twice, but she knew they needed time alone together as a family. Breakfast was her favorite time of the day. It was then that she spent a few cherished minutes alone with Ethan. Their friendship grew steadily, and they became more at ease with each other. Clara knew she would miss their time together if the school board hired her.
More and more, she wondered if caring for Ethan’s children was the path God wanted her to take instead of becoming a teacher. All she could do was pray to follow His will. When the evening of her interview arrived, she chose to walk to the Mast home, hoping the exercise would calm her jitters. It didn’t help.
Wayne Mast was waiting outside the door. As the tax collector, it was Wayne’s job to ensure the school had adequate operating funds. Her salary, if she got the job, would be paid by him at the monthly school board meetings. Rhonda Mast, Wayne’s wife, was in the kitchen slicing a gingerbread cake at the counter. Rhonda was Leah’s sister. Wayne was the brother of Caleb Mast, the man Leah planned to marry. The other members of the school board were seated around the table with Bishop Zook at the head. Although not a formal member of the school board, Bishop Zook took an active part in school affairs.
Samuel Stutzman, the treasurer, nodded to acknowledge her. Clara didn’t know him well, but she did know that his niece had also applied for the position. Eli Imhoff, the school board president, stood up and came to greet her. Clara was happy to see another friendly, familiar face in the room when she spotted Adrian Lapp. Adrian was the school board secretary. He was seated in a chair beside Leah.
Eli came forward. “Good evening, Clara. Thank you for coming so promptly. I believe this meeting will be brief. We have asked the other applicants to wait upstairs while we conduct the interviews. Rhonda will show you where.”
Rhonda pulled a container of whipped cream from the refrigerator and began topping the slices of cake. She arranged them on a tray with some glasses of tea and asked, “Come this way, Clara. I thought you ladies might enjoy a bite to eat.”
Clara followed Rhonda to a spare bedroom on the second floor. The windows were open to the evening breeze and the sheer white curtains fluttered softly. Two women sat on the edge of a bed covered with a bright blue-and-white quilt while a third woman sat in a straight-backed chair facing them. An empty chair remained against the wall.
Clara pulled the chair to the group and greeted them. Sally Yoder took the tray from Rhonda and put it on the bed. When Rhonda left, Sally said, “Clara, I believe you know Deborah Stutzman. This is Melinda Miller.”
Clara picked up her glass of tea. “Melinda, we haven’t met. You’re new in Hope Springs, aren’t you?”
The tiny woman with white-blond hair nodded. “I moved here when my mother became ill. She’s gone now so I’m looking for a position. What about you?”
“I’m so sorry for your loss. I’m the oldest of four girls, and I have long wanted to take up teaching. I believe it is a wonderful calling.”
“It is,” Melinda agreed. “What about you, Sally?”
“I’ve been working as a basket weaver for ages, so I wanted to try something different since none of the men in this area are marriage material.”
Deborah laughed. “You mean since Ben Lapp isn’t interested in marrying you. You’ve been throwing yourself at that boy for two years.”
“I have not, and if he’s not smart enough to catch me, I don’t want him anyway.”
An uncomfortable silence followed and all of them focused on the cake and tea. Finally, Clara looked at Deborah. “What about you, Deborah? Why do you want to teach?”
“My onkel thought I would like the job. My family could use the income.”
Rhonda opened the door and looked in. “Deborah, the board would like to speak to you first.”
After the two women left, Melinda spoke. “What will you do if you don’t get this job, Clara?”
Clara smiled softly. “I’m working as a nanny for a local family. I would like to continue doing that if the Lord wills it.”
“I was thinking of being a nanny,” Sally said. “I hear some of the Englisch families pay very well. Do they?”
“I work for an Amish family so I wouldn’t know.” Clara was finding it hard to imagine her life without Ethan and his three special children in it. Was teaching the right job for her? Should she withdraw her name for consideration? No, she would wait for God to tell her what to do.
The small talk continued as they waited. Deborah returned after ten minutes. “Clara, they will see you now.”
“Goot. I hope they make a decision tonight.” She put her plate and glass back on the tray.
Deborah shook her head. “They told me I would receive a letter in a few days telling me if I’ve been hired or not.”
A moan went around the room. Melinda sighed. “It seems the good Lord is trying to teach us patience.”
* * *
A few evenings after Clara’s interview, Ethan stabled his horses and faced the house with dread. He spied the clean laundry hanging on the line and breathed a prayer of thanks. He did not want to go into the house looking like this.
He yanked a towel off the line and tossed it over his shoulder to hide his torn shirt and bloody arm. He didn’t want to upset Clara or the children. He would clean up once Clara was gone. At least the accident had happened at the end of the day after he’d gotten most of his work done. He wouldn’t accomplish much over the rest of the week.
It was a sizable gash, but he had had worse. Avoiding jagged chunks of wood and falling branches was part of his job. Today, he hadn’t done so well. This would put him back a few days.
He drew a deep breath and pushed open the kitchen door. Clara was seated at the table with her hands folded in front of her. He nodded to her. “Evening, Clara, sorry I’m late. You had better get going or it will be dark by the time you get home. I’m going to take a bath.”
She stood and folded her arms across her chest. “We need to talk.”
“Can’t it wait until tomorrow? I’m beat. Go ahead and go home. We can have this conversation in the morning.”
“This is not a conversation that can be avoided.”
Ethan sighed. “What did Micah do now?”
“He got into a fight with Amos and pushed him down. We need to talk about this.”
“Boys will be boys. It’s nothing.” He could feel the blood dripping down his arm. In a minute, he wouldn’t be able to hide it anymore.
“Ethan, you have to talk to Micah about what’s bothering him. I told him to wait in his room until you got home. The other children are playing outside. What’s wrong with your arm? Why do you have it covered up?”
“Talking to Micah about how he feels won’t change how he feels.” He walked past her, but she reached out and caught him by the arm. He couldn’t hold back a hiss of pain.
She looked down and recoiled in shock as she pulled her hand away. There was blood on her fingers. “Ethan, you’re hurt.”
“It’s nothing. I just need to go wash up.”
“Let me see.”
“I can manage by myself. Go home, Clara.”
“I said, let me see. I’m not going anywhere until I know how badly you are hurt. You’re dripping blood on the floor, and I just washed it.”
He rolled his eyes. “Have it your way.”
He walked to the kitchen sink and unwrapped his arm. The jagged gash ran down the back of his upper arm to his elbow. He tried looking over his shoulder. “I think there may still be a piece of wood in me.”
Clara’s eyes widened, but she quickly sprang into action. She grabbed a clean towel from the drawer, turned on the water to soak it and began to wash awa
y the blood. “I know this hurts, but we have to get it clean. Roll up your sleeve so I can see what needs to be done.”
Ethan did and braced himself as Clara sponged his wound. It didn’t just hurt. It burned like fire. “Can you get the splinter out? I couldn’t get a grip on it. It’s in an awkward place”
“I think I can.” She grasped the bloody piece of wood and pulled. Thankfully, it came out on the first try. “Got it.”
He sagged in relief. “Danki.”
The sound of a strangled cry caused them both to look toward the stairs. Micah stood on the bottom step, his face white as a sheet.”
“It’s all right, Micah. Your onkel has had a small accident.” She pressed gently around the edge of the wound. “This might need stitches.”
“Are you a good seamstress?” Ethan asked, watching her face for her reaction.
“Me?” she squeaked. “I’m not going to sew you up.”
“I’m kidding. It doesn’t need stitches. Slap a piece of tape on it and I’ll be as good as new in a week.”
She pressed a towel tightly against his arm. “Keep pressure on that until I can get something to make a bandage.”
“There’s a roll of gauze in the bathroom cabinet and some antiseptic stuff.”
She left the room. Micah sat down on the step, his face still pale. “What happened?”
“I was felling a tree that was hooked on a widow-maker. A big branch snapped off and came straight down. The jagged end speared me.”
Clara came back into the room with the gauze roll and a bottle of iodine. He winced and gritted his teeth when she poured it over the wound. “I’m sorry. I know that hurt.”
“I’m fine.” He wasn’t, but he had to tough it out in front of her and Micah.
The Amish Nanny Page 13
