A Courtship on Huckleberry Hill

by Jennifer Beckstrand

  Sam pulled out a chair and sat next to her at the table.

  “Denki for driving me home. I couldn’t have made it by myself.”

  Sam had tethered his horse to the back of Elsie’s buggy so he’d have a way back after bringing her home. “I’m worried about you.” He stood up, walked around to the other side of the counter, and started pulling drawers open. He came back with a dampened dish towel, a bottle of hand soap, and some sort of first aid ointment. “Let me fix your head.”

  He sat next to her, and she leaned her face closer. His touch was gentle and unnerving at the same time as he sponged off the blood with the towel. She loved his strong hands. His strong hands and his gute heart.

  “How does it look?” she said.

  “Not deep. Do you know what hit you?”

  “I didn’t even notice I was bleeding until you said something.”

  After cleaning the cut, he applied some ointment to it. Taking her chin in his hand, he nudged her head to the side. “I don’t think you’ll even have a scar.” He fell silent and studied her face as several undefined emotions glowed in his eyes. “I’d feel better about leaving if your grandparents were here, but I’m worried about my bruders. I need to be with them.”

  “Of course.”

  He frowned. “But I need to be with you too.”

  She laid her hand over the top of his. “Your bruders need you. Go.”

  “I’ve always tried to do what was right by my family.” He stood up, looked out the window, and ran his hand down the side of his face. “Wally could have died. They all could have died.” He had repeated it over and over on their way home. My bruders could be dead. Wally risked his life. In his own reserved way, Sam was inconsolable. Protecting his family was everything to him.

  “They were all so brave.”

  He cupped his fingers around the back of his neck and glanced at her. “After a hailstorm like that, you should have kept them inside.”

  “The children wanted to go out. I saw no harm—”

  “Don’t you know how to recognize tornado weather?” It was an accusation, not a question.

  Stunned as she was that Sam had said it, she also felt a sinking dread. It was her fault the children had been caught in the storm. She’d put them in danger with her ignorance. “I’ve . . . I’ve never seen a tornado.”

  He closed his eyes and huffed out a breath. “I’m sorry. I’m doing it again. Blaming you for something that wasn’t your fault.”

  “Maybe it was.”

  “Nae, Elsie. I’m sorry. I speak before I think.”

  She didn’t have the energy or the will to argue with him. Maybe it was her fault. Maybe she would see it in her nightmares until she grew old.

  Sam hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings, but now she was doubting herself, and the pain of it made her head ache something wonderful. She wanted nothing more than to have Sam gone. She couldn’t stand to guess what he really thought of her. She cradled her head in her hand. “Go be with your bruders, Sam. My grandparents will be home soon.”

  “My bruders and I will be at the school in the morning to clean up. Abe Yutzy said he would order new windows, but we’ll probably have to cover them with something better than plastic until they come in.”

  “Jah. That will be fine.”

  He rocked back and forth on his heels as if he didn’t know what to do. “I’ll unhitch the buggy and water the horse before I leave.”

  “Denki,” she said. Sam was watching out for her, even if he blamed her for the storm.

  He left without another word, and a tear trickled down her cheek.

  He loved her. Wasn’t it true that he loved her?

  * * *

  Elsie couldn’t even remember how she’d gotten to the couch, but she was resting on it when Mammi shook her awake. “Elsie? Elsie, are you all right?”

  Elsie opened one eye halfway. Mammi and Dawdi were staring down at her as if she were a museum exhibit. She groaned, tried to sit up, and laid her head back onto the armrest that served as her pillow. “I think I fell asleep on the train tracks and got run over.”

  Mammi wrung her hands. “We came back as soon as we heard. Our driver got word on her cell phone that there had been a funnel cloud at the school.”

  Dawdi nodded. “We left our groceries sitting in the cart at Walmart.”

  Well, Walmart was one thing to do in Green Bay.

  “We heard on the radio that no one was hurt but that one boy had saved a girl’s life. Is that true?”

  “Wally Sensenig saved Maizy Mischler from the merry-go-round just before the tornado got there. We all got into the cellar, but we lost the merry-go-round.”

  Mammi nodded thoughtfully. “I don’t like merry-go-rounds. They make me dizzy.”

  “I like that dizzy feeling,” Dawdi said. “Even if it makes me throw up.”

  Mammi sat on the armrest right next to Elsie’s head. “You have a cut.”

  Elsie touched her finger to her eyebrow. “Something hit me, but I don’t remember what.”

  Mammi’s eyes grew wide. “You have amnesia?”

  Elsie giggled. “Nae, Mammi. I remember it all very well.”

  “Oh, dear,” Mammi said. “I wish we hadn’t left those groceries at Walmart. I could have made you rice-cranberry pudding. It’s my famous recipe, and it cures headaches.”

  “I’ll settle for a piece of toast.” Store-bought bread, slathered in butter.

  “I’ve got Wonder or cheesy jalapeño bread.”

  “Wonder bread,” Elsie said, even at the risk of hurting Mammi’s feelings. She was too weak to gag her way through cheesy jalapeño bread.

  Mammi sighed. “It’s probably better on the stomach.”

  Mammi made Elsie some toast, and when Elsie felt well enough, she got up and helped Mammi make dinner. Things always went better when Elsie secretly supervised the recipes. Fried chicken was hard to mess up, even for Mammi, and if Elsie forgot to put in as many red pepper flakes as Mammi’s recipe called for, Mammi didn’t seem to notice.

  Dawdi set the table, and they were just about to bow their heads for silent prayer when a knock came at the door.

  “Stuff and nonsense,” Mammi said, scooting her chair out from under the table. “Has everyone forgotten their manners to be coming at dinnertime?”

  Probably not everyone, but definitely the person at the door.

  Or people.

  The school board, to be exact.

  Elsie’s breath caught in her throat. She hated it when the school board came to visit. It usually meant she was in trouble. Mammi invited them into the house, and Andy Mast led the way, looking as solemn as if he were conducting a funeral. Abe Yutzy and Menno Kiem didn’t look any more cheerful than Andy. Andy clutched a thick notebook to his chest.

  “Hallo, Felty,” Menno said, shaking hands with Dawdi, who’d decided he’d better get up and greet the men at his door.

  Menno glanced at Elsie. Any spark of hope she might have felt died with the look on Menno’s face. She’d seen that look before. It was the look they’d given her in Charm just before they’d told her she was not going to be invited back to teach. “I see we’re interrupting dinner,” Menno said. “I’m sorry, but it can’t be helped.”

  Mammi frowned and raised her eyebrows. “Of course it can be helped, Menno. Just go away and come back tomorrow. Elsie made fried chicken. It’ll get soggy if we wait.”

  Elsie held up her hand. “It’s okay, Mammi.” She’d rather get it over with—ripping off the bandage was always less painful in the long run. Probably.

  “Can we sit?” Menno said.

  Mammi harrumphed. “You interrupt dinner, and you want to sit. This is quite an imposition.”

  Mammi was usually hospitable with guests, but for sure and certain she realized why the school board was here. Elsie wanted to give her a big kiss. There was no one more loyal than Mammi, especially when it came to one of her grandchildren. Elsie loved her all the more for it.

  “Now
, Banannie,” Dawdi said. “Let’s hear what they have to say yet. The longer they stand here, the soggier the fried chicken will get.” He motioned for Andy to sit in the recliner, which was definitely a great sacrifice. Dawdi loved his recliner.

  Andy sat down, but the recliner didn’t suit him. He looked like a fence post trying to get comfortable on a pillow. Menno and Abe went to the sofa, while Mammi sat in her rocker. Dawdi told Elsie to take the soft chair, and Dawdi pulled a chair from the table.

  “Now,” Dawdi said, leaning forward on his elbows. “Tell us what this is all about so we can all go home to dinner.”

  “We’re already home, Felty,” Mammi said, “and I’d like my dinner now.”

  Menno glanced at Andy, the one with the notebook. Whatever was to be said, he was the one to do the talking. Elsie tried for a calm expression on her face, even though she was in turns seething and crying on the inside. It wasn’t Andy’s fault that he reminded Elsie so much of his daughter Rose, with her pouty lips and devious eyes, but she couldn’t help but wonder if Rose had something to do with this.

  Andy cleared his throat and opened his notebook. “Is it true, Miss Stutzman, that you were fired from your school in Charm before you came to Bonduel?”

  Elsie’s throat constricted. “They told me they wanted to hire someone else for the new school year. I don’t consider it being fired.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us this when we hired you?” Menno said.

  “I didn’t think it was important.” Nae, that wasn’t exactly true. She hadn’t wanted it to be important, but that’s not the reason she’d failed to mention it to the school board. She had always been plainspoken. Why should she back down just because the school board had gotten their noses out of joint? She squared her shoulders. “I didn’t want you to know because I was afraid you wouldn’t hire me.”

  Andy seemed to take this as a personal insult. “Of course we wouldn’t have hired you.”

  Elsie took a deep breath. The men of the school board weren’t too old to learn a lesson, and she wasn’t afraid to deliver it. She was a teacher, after all. “But you should have hired me, in the spirit of forgiveness.”

  Andy flared his nostrils, as if Elsie had a bad smell hanging about her. “We don’t have to forgive anyone.”

  Menno and Abe glanced at each other, as if each was wondering if the other was going to correct Andy for saying such a thing.

  Andy returned to his notes. “We understand that you lied to a parent and have been stealing school toilet paper for your own use. This is very troubling.”

  “I can answer that,” Mammi said. “Elsie has never stolen a thing in her life, and no lie has ever crossed her lips.”

  Elsie winced for Mammi’s sake, but she didn’t regret for one minute lying to Alvin Schmucker. “I never stole the toilet paper, but I did lie to Alvin Schmucker. I was afraid he was going to beat his son, and I wanted to stop it.”

  Abe nodded to Menno.

  Mammi gave Menno a pointed look. “You of all people should know what Alvin Schmucker is like.”

  Elsie smiled at her mammi, who didn’t seem the least bit troubled that her granddaughter had told a lie. But how did the school board find out? Only Sam, Wally, Reuben, and Elsie knew about it.

  “You turned your back when Wally Sensenig stole money from the other children.”

  Menno narrowed his eyes in Andy’s direction. “Now, Andy, we already resolved that. No use bringing it up again.”

  Andy pursed his lips, more than a little put out that he wouldn’t be allowed to beat Elsie over the head with that one again. He fingered the paper in his notebook. “I have a troubling report that you would not allow Wally Sensenig to go to the bathroom at school. Children should never be tortured like that.”

  Andy, Menno, and Abe stared at her with wide eyes, no doubt waiting for an explanation for such cruel behavior.

  Mammi sighed. “Wally Sensenig can be a pill, but his bruder Sam is a wonderful-gute boy.”

  Dear Mammi. Didn’t she know it was useless to argue? The school board was bent on firing her. She could see the conviction in their eyes. This little exercise of listing her shortcomings was only to make themselves feel better.

  Elsie lifted her chin. It was plain that nothing she said or didn’t say would change their minds. They hadn’t come to discuss how school was working out or to make sure she was okay after the tornado. A tornado!—the single most traumatic event to happen at school in who-knew-how-many years, and they hadn’t mentioned it. Not once.

  She wished Sam were here. He wouldn’t have even had to say anything. It simply would have been nice to have him sitting by her, lending her his strength, giving his support against the men who had set themselves up as her adversaries. Elsie didn’t want to grovel, and she didn’t need to defend herself. They were just wasting her time. She might as well stroll into her room and start packing.

  She sat up straighter. “I don’t need to explain myself every time I make a decision in my classroom.”

  That got their attention, if it hadn’t been riveted to her before. She wasn’t going to play their game. She’d rather be a base.

  Andy hadn’t finished. She hadn’t expected him to be. “We heard reports that you were giving a certain boy special tutoring that none of the other children got, and you spent an inappropriate amount of time with a single young man as part of that tutoring, and that you spent some time alone in a barn with him.”

  Even if she’d wanted to reply, Elsie couldn’t have. She was speechless. Rose Mast had been busy. Her dat probably had writer’s cramp from all the information he’d had to write down in his notebook.

  “Maizy Mischler got hurt playing softball,” Menno said. “It’s your responsibility to see that your students are safe, especially Maizy.”

  When Elsie didn’t say anything, Andy searched his notes again. “The Christmas program was ruined because you can’t control your students. What do you have to say to that?”

  Elsie sat up straighter, even though she felt the weight of their condemnation pressing down on her. Their accusations were so unfair.

  When she didn’t reply, Andy pointed to something in his notebook highlighted in yellow marker. “Maybe you would be willing to explain your wanton behavior. We are troubled by reports we have heard that you have been kissing boys after school hours in the classroom.”

  “That can’t be true,” Mammi interjected. “Elsie won’t even agree to let me match her with the right boy.”

  Elsie’s blood turned to ice. There were only two people in the world who knew about the kissing. Elsie and Sam Sensenig, and she hadn’t told anybody. What . . . what had Sam done? She clasped her hands together so no one would notice they were shaking and pasted a pleasant smile in her face, which was a small miracle, considering the big crack down the center of her heart. “Anything else?”

  Andy seemed taken aback, as if he was expecting more from her on that subject. “Vell, there are many things. But we don’t want to wear out our welcome.”

  Mammi rocked her chair back and forth and gave Andy a fake smile. He had worn out his welcome with her about three days ago. She glanced at Elsie and pressed her lips together. She had obviously decided that if Elsie was going to remain silent, then Mammi would do the same. She was always so supportive that way.

  Andy closed his notebook and propped it lengthwise across his knees. “We were very troubled about what happened at school today.”

  The poor school board. They were very troubled about a great many things.

  Menno leaned forward. “The children should not have been playing outside.”

  “You put them in danger,” Andy said. “Some of the boys asked to go out, and you let them, even though a tornado was coming.”

  Was it her fault? How could she have known? She swallowed hard and reminded herself they were going to fire her anyway. She kept her mouth shut even as her heart plummeted to the floor.

  Dawdi must have decided that since neither Elsie
nor Mammi was making a peep, he’d have to speak up. “No one was hurt. And Wally Sensenig saved the little Mischler girl.”

  Andy pointed a finger in Dawdi’s direction. “He wouldn’t have had to save her if they’d all been inside. Wally’s bruder Sam even said so. He told my Rose that the children should never have been outside.”

  The mention of Sam’s name was like a blow to the head that left Elsie dizzy and disoriented. She wanted to adamantly insist that Sam would have never said such a thing. Unfortunately, he’d stood in this very kitchen and questioned why she let the children go out.

  “Miss Stutzman should have protected the children. We discussed it earlier with some of the families.”

  Elsie’s heart broke in two.

  When they first met, Sam had threatened to get her fired. She simply hadn’t realized to what lengths he would go to do it. Had he and Rose planned this from the beginning? Had everything he’d done, everything they’d ever shared, been a ruse?

  She trembled at the thought. Could she really have been so blind?

  She balled her hands into fists. Nae. She couldn’t, she wouldn’t believe that. She knew Sam. She loved Sam. He wouldn’t behave so despicably, no matter how mad he was at her. He had loved her. Surely he had loved her once. Ach, she wanted to believe it so badly.

  But maybe the tornado had been the last straw. Maybe he thought Elsie put his bruders in danger just by being around them. Maybe he thought she made Wally take unnecessary risks. Maybe he feared he couldn’t protect his bruders from Elsie, that he had to choose between Elsie and safety. If that was true, he’d choose his family every time.

  So. The tornado had made up Sam’s mind for him. He’d given Rose the ammunition she needed, and she’d given it to her fater.

  She wanted to run to her room, throw herself on her bed, and cry until she couldn’t cry anymore—not because she was about to lose her job, but because she had just lost her heart. She didn’t know anything could hurt this much. “Anything else?” Elsie said. The words choked her, but she forced herself to sound indifferent.