The Hearts of Middlefield Collection

by Kathleen Fuller

  Ruth looked through the buggy’s front opening to the white, two-story house where she lived with her parents and her older brother Stephen. Her other brothers, Tobias and Lukas, were married and had their own families. Her mother’s flower boxes hung over the banister of the wraparound front porch. Like the flower beds rimming the house, they were filled with vibrant red, white, and pink impatiens and lavender and purple petunias. They had thrived despite the simmering summer heat.

  Gabriel angled his body to face her. “Are you okay?”

  She wished everyone would stop asking her that. She wiped the perspiration off her brow with the heel of her hand before picking up her purse and tote bag. “Do you want to come inside for a bit?”

  “Sure, but just for a bit. I want to get back and help Moriah with the maed.” Ruth moved to get out of the buggy, but Gabriel suddenly stopped her. “I know you’re disappointed about the schulhaus.”

  “Moriah suggested that we hold school at someone’s haus.”

  He ran his forefinger over his bearded chin. “I’ll have to see what the school board thinks about that. But don’t worry, Ruth. We’ll make sure the schulhaus is fixed as soon as possible. And if the board decides it’s best to delay school for a short while, enjoy the time off.”

  She didn’t want time off; she wanted to teach. But she didn’t say that to Gabriel. He wouldn’t understand. No one in her family appreciated her devotion to education and learning. She told him what he wanted to hear. “Okay. I won’t worry about it anymore.”

  “Gut.”

  She and Gabriel walked into the house and found her parents in the front living room, where they usually spent their Sunday evenings reading. Her father, Joseph, was dozing in his chair, his head tilted back and his mouth partly open as he snored softly. Her mother, Emma, was on the couch, thumbing through an afghan pattern book. The only light in the room came from a small lamp on the end table. The windows were open, but it was only slightly cooler in the house than it was outside.

  When her mother looked up and saw Ruth’s forehead, she stood and went to her. “Gut heavens, what happened to you?”

  For a third time Ruth relayed the story, her father waking up soon after she started speaking. When she finished, Gabriel reassured her parents, just as he had Ruth, that the schoolhouse would be repaired.

  Her father rose from his chair, his knees quietly popping as he stood. “Danki for bringing Ruth here. I can drive you home.”

  Her mother adjusted the silver-framed glasses that she wore all the time. As Gabriel and Daed started to leave the room, she said, “Tell my precious grossdochders I said hello.”

  “Verna wasn’t acting too precious when we left,” Gabriel said with a chuckle.

  “Not a bit surprised. But I’m sure she’ll be over it in no time.”

  Ruth touched her mother’s shoulder. “You should geh with them. That way you can tell them hello yourself.”

  “Oh, nee. I couldn’t leave you—”

  “Mami, I’ll be fine. I promise. I’ll stay right here on the couch.”

  “Ya, you will, and I’ll be right here to make sure that you’re okay.”

  Ruth stifled a sigh. So much for taking care of herself.

  After Gabriel and Joseph left, her mother started fluffing the pillows on their sage green couch. She set her book on the plain coffee table in the center of the room, then gestured to the sofa. “You can lie down here.”

  Ruth looked at the couch. She was hot, still piqued over the wrecked schoolhouse, and now her head was throbbing. The last thing she wanted to do was lie down. But she did as her mother said anyway.

  “Are you hungry? I can make you some soup.”

  “Nee. I’m not hungry,” she said, stretching out her legs on the couch. “Or thirsty,” she added, knowing her mother would offer her some tea.

  Her mother dimmed the lamp on the side table. “Very well. I’ll let you rest. If you need anything let me know. Don’t get up and get it yourself.” Her thin gray brows arched over her blue eyes. “Understand?”

  Ruth nodded and watched her mother leave.

  She let out a deep breath and closed her eyes, forcing herself to at least try and relax like everyone wanted. But she couldn’t, not when her mind whirred, going over everything she had to do to salvage her teaching situation. What she really wanted to do was go to her room, which had always been her sanctuary. She’d been lucky as a child to have her own room upstairs in the attic, as her siblings had always had to share. It had become her safe haven, and over the years she had spent many hours there, studying, reading, and dreaming. Tonight, though, she was stuck on the couch.

  As she lay there, the ribbon of tension through her body slowly loosened. Closing her eyes, she tried to take Gabriel’s advice and let the worry go, but it clung on the edges of her mind. Many of the supplies had been destroyed, including some textbooks and workbooks, her posters and maps, and some of the spiral notebooks she’d purchased for her students. Replacing those would be the easy part. Readjusting her school plans wouldn’t. Weeks of lessons, prepared down to the last detail and written in ballpoint pen, would have to be redone. But she couldn’t even do that, not until she knew when the repairs would be completed so school could begin. Earlier this afternoon, everything had been organized, planned, and prepared to her specifications. Now, it was all in shambles.

  Tears of frustration threatened to spill, but she refused to give in to them. She’d learned early on to hide her emotions and remain in control. Because only when she was in control could she convince everyone else that she was okay.

  Chapter 3

  PARADISE, PENNSYLVANIA

  Gut tea.”

  Deborah Coblentz looked at the man seated across from her in her aunt’s living room and tried to muster a smile. “Danki, Thomas.” She forced a little more enthusiasm into her words. “I’m glad you like it.”

  Thomas nodded and took another noisy slurp from the amber-colored tea glass. Her own untouched glass sat on the coffee table between them. She hadn’t expected Thomas Smucker to stop by her aunt’s house on a Sunday afternoon. He’d been here nearly half an hour already, and she still didn’t know what he wanted. But for some reason she suspected it wasn’t just to say hello.

  “Where’s the bu?”

  She didn’t care for the way he always called her son “the bu.” “Will’s upstairs taking his afternoon nap. He’s usually exhausted by this time of the day.”

  Thomas didn’t reply. Instead he drained the tea glass, then let out a quiet burp. When she first moved to Paradise, Pennsylvania, almost two years ago, she didn’t make much of an effort to become a part of the community, Amish or Yankee. It had been easier to hide from everyone at her Yankee aunt’s house, not to have to explain the circumstances that brought her here from Middlefield. But she couldn’t live in isolation forever, so she began to attend church services. She soon learned that her fears of rejection were unnecessary, and she planned to join the church in a few weeks, taking another step in forging her new life.

  Thomas hadn’t paid any particular attention to her until recently, when he started talking to her after services. She was shocked he’d acknowledged her at all, considering she had a child and had never been married. Before then she hadn’t known him very well, only saying hello in passing during church services. From what she could tell he seemed nice enough. The fact that he was interested in her, despite her past, reinforced her first impressions.

  He set down the glass and brought a beefy fist to his mouth, clearing his throat. A successful carpenter, he owned his own business, something he’d mentioned to her at least five times since they’d met. His chest resembled the side of a barrel, round and protruding, with broad shoulders and strong arms that strained against the confines of his white Sunday shirt and black vest. She expected him to say something, but he remained silent, his silvery eyes straying to Roy, the colorful stuffed parrot perched inside a tall, metal birdcage in the corner of her aunt’s living roo
m. “Is that thing real?”

  Deborah raised her eyebrows. Roy sported at least seven colors not found in nature. “Nee. Mei aenti’s late husband won it for her at the Geauga Fair nearly thirty years ago. She brought it home and put it in the cage, which has been Roy’s home ever since.” She couldn’t help but smile at her aunt’s humor.

  “I see.” He turned and stared at her for a long moment, not a hint of amusement in his eyes. Deborah couldn’t tell what he was feeling or thinking by looking at his expression.

  She shifted on the couch, the skirt of her dark blue dress wrinkling as she moved. She smoothed it out. “Would you like something to eat?”

  He shook his head. “I had a big meal at Mamm’s. Pot roast. She makes the best pot roast in Paradise. Do you know how to make pot roast?”

  The question caught her off guard. “Um, ya. I do.”

  “What about apple pie? Can you make a decent apple pie?”

  “I haven’t made one in a long time. Aenti Sadie doesn’t care for apples—”

  “And mashed potatoes? Do you use real butter or that fake margariney stuff ?”

  “Real butter. Thomas, I—”

  “Glad to hear it. Because any frau of mine has to be a real gut cook.”

  Deborah’s mouth dropped open, and her body tensed. “Frau?”

  “Right. Mei frau will need to be a gut cook, sewer, and keep a spotless haus.” He looked directly at her. “She must also be able to have kinner. Preferably buwe.”

  Deborah shifted on the couch, crossing one leg over the other, trying to hide her surprise and the sudden unease his words triggered. “Thomas, are you asking me to marry you?”

  “I’m asking you to consider it. I believe you’re the kind of frau I need, Deborah.” For the first time, she saw a hint of a smile.

  “But we hardly know each other.”

  He leaned forward, his lips curving into an almost-grin. “I think we know enough.”

  She jumped up and walked to the opposite end of the room, her thoughts jumbled. “I’m not ready for marriage, Thomas.”

  “What about the bu?” He settled back in the chair, surprise entering his eyes. “Have you thought about him? About his future?”

  “Of course I have. I think about that all the time.”

  “Then getting married should be the first thing on your mind, not the last. The bu needs a daed.”

  Deborah didn’t answer. She knew Will would eventually need a male figure in his life. But he was only a year and a half old. There was plenty of time to think about finding a husband . . . wasn’t there?

  Thomas’s brow furrowed. “He needs a mann to guide him. Someone to teach him the ways of the church and of God. You can’t do that. But I can. I own my own business and it makes a lot of money. I can buy us a large haus without borrowing a cent. I have the best and largest buggy available. And I have a legacy I can give to the bu. He’ll never want for anything. In return all I ask is that you take care of the haus, bear mei kinner, and be a proper frau.”

  Her mind reeled, and the words popped out of her mouth before she could stop them. “What about love?”

  “Love will come, if God wills it.”

  “If ?”

  His gaze narrowed slightly. “Did you love the daed of the bu?”

  She thought about Chase, the Yankee she’d worked with at Mary Yoder’s Amish Kitchen. He had noticed her sadness after her boyfriend broke up with her. He’d paid attention to her, said all the right things. Then their one night together had changed her life forever. And had given her Will. But had she truly loved Chase? She knew now she never had.

  He must have taken her hesitation for the word no, because his expression relaxed. He leaned one arm over the back of the chair. “See? Love only complicates things. Marriage should be approached logically, based on what two people can offer each other.”

  Deborah couldn’t disagree more, but she didn’t say it aloud.

  “Deborah, have you seen my tweezers?” Sadie entered the living room, holding a copy of the National Enquirer under her arm. “I can never find those things when I need them.” Her thin brows rose when she saw Thomas. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had company.”

  Thomas rose from the chair. “It’s fine. I was just leaving.”

  “You don’t have to go on my account.” Sadie pursed her bright lips and turned to leave. “I can make myself scarce. Just pretend I wasn’t even here.”

  Deborah thought that a little difficult to do considering her plump aunt had on a fuchsia tube top with a neon orange shirt layered over it and lime green shorts. But if Thomas thought anything of her aunt’s garish attire, he kept it to himself.

  He picked up his black hat from the coffee table and put it on. “Think about what I said, Deborah. When you do, you’ll realize I’m making sense.” He looked at her expectantly.

  Realizing he was waiting for her to respond, she said, “I’ll walk you out.” They went outside, and she blinked against the bright sunshine as she stood in her aunt’s small front yard. “Danki for stopping by, Thomas.”

  He looked down at her. They were nearly the same height, with him only about an inch taller than her five-foot-seven frame. “I’ll give you some time to think about my proposal.”

  Deborah didn’t respond right away. What she really wanted to do was tell him no. She had never considered marrying for anything but love. But could she afford to be the romantic young woman she was before Will was born? Thomas had been right about a few things, things she couldn’t ignore. Her son needed a father, and Thomas did have a strong, solid business. He could give Will things she couldn’t. While she’d had Yankee friends in Middlefield who were raised by single parents, Deborah believed in the Amish way of raising children with both parents. And although she found Thomas humorless and prideful, she couldn’t reject him outright, not without praying about it. Maybe once they got to know each other, his better qualities would reveal themselves. “Danki, Thomas. I will think and pray about it.”

  He took a step closer to her, a slight frown on his lips. Was he insulted she hadn’t said yes to his proposal right away? “One other thing I want you to think about, Deborah. Not many Amish men would be willing to take in a sohn born outside of marriage. Especially a Yankee mann’s sohn. But I am.” He turned and walked out the gate.

  Deborah sighed and watched him get inside his buggy, her thoughts a confused mess. When she walked into the living room she saw Sadie seated on the couch, reading her magazine. Deborah crossed her arms over her chest. “Were you watching us through the window?”

  Sadie lowered the Enquirer and peered at Deborah over the top. “Moi ? I’ve been reading my magazine the entire time. I’m surprised you would think I’d stoop to watching out of windows like a little old lady.”

  “Your magazine is upside-down.”

  Her aunt flipped it right-side up, then tossed it on the coffee table in front of her. “Okay, guilty as charged. But just for the record, I’m a youngish old lady peeking out of windows.” She looked at Deborah. “So who is your gentleman caller?”

  Deborah plopped on the couch beside her. “Thomas Smucker. Owner of Smucker’s Hardwoods.”

  Sadie nodded. “I’ve heard of that company. Pretty successful, I think.”

  “He wants to marry me.”

  “What?” Sadie sat up from the couch, brown eyes wide. “Do tell.” But as Deborah explained Thomas’s proposal, her aunt’s expression turned from surprise to disapproval.

  “I don’t like him already.” Sadie pointed at Deborah. “You deserve better than that.”

  “But he’s being practical. And I should too. I don’t have many options, and I want the best for Will. It’s possible that I could grow to love him, in time.”

  Her aunt shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this. You would give up on love that easily?”

  “I’m an unmarried Amish woman with a sohn whose father is a Yankee and has never wanted anything to do with him. That defin
itely limits my options.”

  “Well, I think he’s a king-size jerk.” Sadie stood up from the couch. “You’re a grown woman and I can’t tell you what to do, but I can give you some advice. Don’t marry someone just for Will’s sake. I know you love your baby, but you have to be happy too.”

  “Will’s happiness is the only thing that matters to me.”

  Sadie’s features softened. “That’s wonderful, Deborah. It really is. But Will won’t be happy if you’re miserable. Think about that before you agree to marry the first man who offers.” She took her cell phone out of the pocket of her blinding shorts. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.”

  “I can make something—”

  “Nonsense.” Sadie flipped open her phone. “The good Lord wouldn’t have provided takeout if He hadn’t intended us to use it. What are you in the mood for? Pizza or Chinese?”

  The night after the accident, Zach sat in the kitchen of his house, drumming his fingers on the edge of the table. He leaned back in the oaken chair, his ankle propped up on the opposite knee. He knew he appeared nonchalant, emotionless, but inside, his stomach churned like an old gas motor.

  His father stood in front of him, his thick arms crossed over his chest and resting on his slightly protruding belly. His gaze continued to bore into Zach. The look. Zach had been on the receiving end of the look for years now, ever since he was eight years old and Fraulein Gruber had paid his parents a visit after school. Zach had glued her math book to her desk while she was outside supervising students for recess. At the time he’d considered it necessary revenge for making him stay inside to finish his morning schoolwork. Now he saw it for the dumm stunt it was. But he’d been making similar stupid mistakes ever since.

  Still, damaging the schoolhouse hadn’t been a thoughtless attempt to churn up a little excitement, as he tended to do when things got boring. For once his intentions had been innocent. He’d tried not to hit the deer, for Pete’s sake. That should have gotten him a little mercy. But from the piercing intensity of the look, it hadn’t.