The Hearts of Middlefield Collection

by Kathleen Fuller

  As Stephen drove off, Ruth balanced her purse and the heavy satchel on one arm and fished for her schoolhouse key. The weight of both bags threw her off balance. Her purse and satchel fell off of her arm, hitting the ground. The satchel had been fastened shut, but the contents of her purse were scattered on the small concrete stoop. She squatted and placed everything neatly back inside. Once everything was where it belonged, she grabbed her bags and stood up, reached for her key—

  Oh no! Where was her key?

  She dropped her satchel and riffled through her purse. It wasn’t there. She knelt and searched the ground where she’d dropped her things. The key must have bounced off the concrete and fallen in the nearby grass. She ran her hands through the blades on both sides, expecting to see a glint of gold winking at her. When she didn’t, panic set in, and she searched again, frantic this time. Fifteen minutes later she stood up. Her key was nowhere to be found.

  Surely she hadn’t left it at the house. She racked her brain as she mentally went through her evening and morning rituals. Last night she had cleaned out her purse, something she did every Sunday evening. Was the key in there at that time? Her hands pressed against the sides of her head. Why couldn’t she remember?

  Over and over she went through her routine, but nothing jogged her memory. How could she be so thoughtless? How could she have not paid attention to where she put the key to the schoolhouse?

  She started to pace, trying to figure out what to do. Maybe she could climb in a window. She couldn’t believe she was even contemplating it, but she was desperate.

  Ruth walked to the window on the side of the small white building. Hopefully Zachariah hadn’t locked it after finishing his repairs yesterday, which is what she would have done. She hadn’t seen him since the runaway horse incident, and she’d spent the last few days preparing for school and trying to forget about him. She had nearly succeeded, but last night he’d had the nerve to pop up in her dreams. When she woke up, she couldn’t remember the specifics of the dream, only that he had again slipped into her subconscious.

  She shook her head to clear her mind. Why was she thinking about Zachariah at a time like this?

  She stretched her arms up and tried to shove open the window. At five foot four, she couldn’t reach it easily. On her third try, she managed to lift the sash enough for her body to squeeze through. Now she just had to figure out a way to crawl in.

  She looked around for something to stand on, but there was nothing in sight, not even an old pail or a large rock. Somehow she’d have to scramble inside on her own. Gripping the window ledge, she counted to three, then jumped and pulled up her body. Leaning forward, she stuck her head through the opening, only to bump it on the bottom of the sash.

  “Ow!” Several drops of perspiration ran down her face. It might be morning, but it was still hot, even during the beginning of September. Her dress started to cling to her skin in the heat. Ruth breathed in and steadied herself. Lord, I promise I will never, ever forget my key again! Just help me get through this window! Ducking her head further, she started to climb through when she felt something land on her back, pinning her against the ledge and knocking the wind out of her. “Oof.”

  She gasped, then shifted and tried to open the window by bowing her back. The dumm thing wouldn’t move. Then she tried to climb the rest of the way through the window, but the sash pinned her in place. A bead of sweat trickled down her nose.

  Panicked, she tried to budge the window again, but no matter how she twisted her body, it wouldn’t move. She was wedged in tight. Kicking out her legs, she searched for leverage on the outside of the building, but the rubber soles of her shoes slid right off the wood siding.

  Her face was aflame. Soon her students would show up, and she couldn’t let them see her with half her body hanging out of the window. This was not the way to make a professional impression on her class.

  But her students were the least of her problems; the pressure from being sandwiched between the window and ledge was putting a strain on her back and stomach. Becoming more desperate, she tried everything she could think of to break free. She kicked, pulled, arched, flexed, groaned, grunted, and nearly burst into tears as she tried to move the window resting on her back. Nothing worked, and now she could barely breathe. Light-headed and gulping air, she ended up doing the only thing she could. Cars and buggies traveled up and down this road all the time. Closing her eyes, she started to pray that someone would see her and come to her rescue.

  “Ma! Ma!”

  The sound of Will’s voice brought Deborah out of a heavy sleep. She opened her sticky eyes and squinted at her son across the room. He was standing in his new crib, gripping the side and looking at her with an expectant expression. “Ma!”

  “All right, sohn, I hear you.” She sat up in bed, and her long braid tumbled over her shoulder, the end landing in her lap. She blinked a few times, struggling to wake up. She’d gone to bed early last night, at the same time as Will, suffering from a pounding headache. Thankfully, her head didn’t hurt anymore. Glancing at the window, she saw a bright ray of sunlight streaming through the glass. She frowned. There wasn’t a clock in the room. How long had she slept?

  Will started to grunt, spurring Deborah to get up and take him out of the crib. She changed his diaper and carried him out of the bedroom. Maybe Naomi might let her help with the meal this morning, although she doubted it. Over the past two days she had offered to help out so many times she lost track, but each time her sister refused. Naomi had staked the house as her domain.

  As she made her way downstairs, sadness seeped into her. Her aunt was leaving today. The only person Deborah could talk to about her mother. Her father had been subdued since the funeral, saying very little and retiring early. Deborah was worried about him, but she didn’t know what to do. The only person who didn’t seem affected by everything was her sister. Naomi hadn’t even mentioned their mother one time.

  The scent of bacon frying made her belly grumble. Naomi had already started breakfast without her. Deborah sighed. She wondered if their relationship would ever be repaired.

  But when she walked into the kitchen, it wasn’t Naomi standing at the stove. “Aenti?”

  Sadie turned around, both hands covered in quilted oven mitts, one hand holding a spatula. Her wardrobe was more subdued than usual: a white pair of pedal pushers topped with a bright pink T-shirt that said Growing old is mandatory, growing up is optional. She wore a turquoise kerchief on her head, but Deborah didn’t know if she was sporting it as a fashion accessory or in deference to staying in an Amish home. “Good morning, sunshine!” A bright smile formed on her red lips.

  Deborah frowned, suspicious. “What’s going on, Aenti?”

  Sadie’s curled black lashes batted up and down. “Nothing, dear. How would you like your eggs? Overly sunny-side, or hard up?”

  “What?”

  “I meant sunny-side up or overly hard. Or is it overly easy?”

  “Maybe scrambled would be easier.” She took a slice of homemade bread from the plate on the table, tore it into pieces, and put them on a paper napkin in front of Will. He started stuffing the bits into his mouth. “I can make breakfast, Aenti.”

  “You’ll do no such thing.” Sadie put her oven-mitt-covered hand on one ample hip. “I might only cook once a decade, but I can handle this myself. It’s only eggs and bacon. How hard can they be?”

  “The bacon’s burning.”

  Sniffing the air, Sadie whirled around. Deborah moved beside her, spotting four pieces of black, shriveled meat in a frying pan of smoking grease.

  “Dear heavens.” Sadie fumbled with the knob on the gas stove, which was turned up to high, but she couldn’t get a grip on it with the oven mitt. Deborah reached over and turned the burner off, but clouds of smoke hovered over the stove.

  Sadie sighed. “Oh well. I never was a big fan of bacon anyway. Guess we’ll have to settle for eggs and bread.”

  Deborah took the spatula from Sadie.
“Why don’t you sit down with Will and I’ll make us all something.”

  Sadie nodded, slipping off the oven mitts and putting them on the counter near the stove. “Can’t say I didn’t try.”

  “And I love you for it.” Deborah smiled and turned to the stove.

  “Wait, don’t worry about fixing anything for me,” Sadie said from behind her. “I already ate.”

  “Oh?” Deborah glanced over her shoulder before picking up a brown egg and cracking it into the cast-iron skillet. The clear liquid immediately turned white. Deborah swiftly turned down the burner. Knowing her aunt preferred not to rise very early in the morning, she asked, “Did you go out to eat for breakfast?”

  “Um, not exactly.”

  Her aunt’s strange tone made Deborah turn all the way around. “What do you mean?”

  “What she means is that I already had it made.” Naomi came into the kitchen, carrying a small stack of folded kitchen towels. “At six a.m. The proper time for breakfast.”

  “There’s no proper time for breakfast, Naomi.” Sadie poured Will a glass of milk from the pitcher on the table and held it for him while he drank. “People eat when they’re hungry.”

  “In an Amish home there is.” She yanked open one of the cabinet drawers and put the towels inside. “We don’t have time to lounge around all day in bed when there’s so much work to be done.”

  Deborah glanced at the clock on the wall opposite the sink. 7:00. Had she really slept that long? Normally she was up by five every day. Naomi did have the right to be irritated. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I’d slept so late.”

  “You’ve got nothing to apologize for.” Sadie took the empty glass from Will and stood up. She glared at Naomi’s back. “Obviously you needed the sleep.”

  Naomi turned around but didn’t look at Sadie. Instead she scanned the kitchen, her expression growing harder by the second. “I just cleaned up and now look. The kitchen stinks from the bacon you burned, there are crumbs all over the table—”

  “I burned the—”

  “Aenti,” Deborah said, holding up her hand. She flicked off the burner under the eggs before they overcooked and faced Naomi. “You’re right, I should have gotten up earlier. I’ll clean up the mess.”

  Naomi crossed her arms over her tiny waist. “I’ll do it. I’ve seen the way you clean.” She walked over to the stove, picked up the pan of partially cooked eggs, and dumped them in the wastebasket by the back door. Before Deborah could say anything, her sister had put the pan in the sink and was running water over it.

  “Why would you—” Sadie started for Naomi, but Deborah stepped in front of her. The last thing she wanted was for her aunt and sister to argue in front of Will.

  “It’s okay,” Deborah said in a low voice.

  “No, it’s not,” Sadie whispered back. “She did that on purpose.” Sadie looked around Deborah’s shoulder at Naomi, who had her back to them while she scrubbed the frying pan.

  “Probably, but I’ll talk to her.” Deborah guided her aunt to the table and continued to whisper. “Will needs more than bread for breakfast. I’ve got some raisins in my bag. He can have those until I can fix him something else.”

  “Never mind the raisins.” She picked Will up and perched him on her hip. “We’re going out to breakfast.” When Deborah shook her head, she held up her free hand. “No arguments.” She tilted her head toward Naomi. “Let her stew by herself.”

  “You and Will go ahead. I have to stay and talk to her.”

  “Suit yourself. I think you’re wasting your time. She’s past reasoning with.”

  When Sadie and Will left the kitchen, Deborah turned to Naomi. “You and I need to talk.”

  Naomi didn’t say anything, just rinsed the pan and set it in the dish drainer. When she moved to go to the stove, Deborah touched her arm. “I don’t want to fight anymore, Naomi. I’d like us to be friends.”

  “Friends?” Naomi rolled her eyes and pulled from her grasp. “We’re sisters. We don’t have to be friends.”

  “Then at least we have to be civil to each other. For Daed’s and Will’s sakes.”

  “If you don’t like how things are here, you’re free to leave.” She grabbed the dishrag and started wiping down the table. “It’s not like you haven’t done it before.”

  “I don’t want to leave. I want to stay and help out you and Daed.”

  “We don’t need your help.” She scrubbed the rag against the table. “We’ve been doing fine since you’ve been gone.”

  “But now that I’m here, I can take some of the load off of you.”

  Naomi hurried to the sink and shook out the rag. Bread crumbs fell into the soapy water, and Deborah wondered why her sister hadn’t dumped the crumbs into the trash can like she normally did. Then Naomi dropped the rag in the sink and faced Deborah. “Your sohn is needy and sloppy and messy. All he does is make more work for me.”

  “He’s a boppli, Naomi. Of course he’s going to need things and be sloppy. I don’t expect you to watch after him anyway.”

  “Gut, because I won’t take care of him. He’s your responsibility, not mine.”

  “I know that.” She didn’t understand where Naomi’s vehemence was coming from. She was acting as if Will was an unwanted animal instead of her nephew. And as committed to the Amish as her sister was, she should understand that children, all children, were to be treasured and nurtured. “I’ll try to keep Will out of your way.”

  “See that you do.” She looked straight at Deborah. “We’re living under the same roof, and that’s it. So don’t try to be friends with me, or involve me in your problems, or act like you want to be helpful. I’m not interested. I have my own life to live.” She stalked out of the room.

  Deborah stood in the kitchen, dumbfounded by what had just happened. Maybe Sadie had been right; her sister was beyond reasoning with. She just didn’t understand why.

  Chapter 10

  Zach tapped the reins lightly against Maggie’s flanks. She picked up her steps and trotted down the road. Thankfully she’d recovered from her scare the other day. Ruth had called flying over a meadow in a runaway buggy “an adventure.” It certainly had been an adventure all right, one he didn’t care to repeat.

  Normally he’d be on his way to the buggy shop, but he remembered last night that he’d planned to fix the window in the schoolhouse before Ruth and her students arrived this morning. Last week, it had fallen down without warning several times, and he’d told himself he needed to fix it before school reopened. It just kept slipping his mind. So he’d left home early, planning to stop at the school, fix the window, then head over to Kline’s for half a day’s work.

  He was grateful for his new job. The supplies to repair the school hadn’t been cheap, and he had purchased them all on credit. He intended to pay everyone back as soon as possible. That meant working as many hours as he could. It would help if he had another job. He’d even thought about asking his father if he had any extra work, but after their conversation Saturday night, Zach wouldn’t bother. His daed would rather pay someone who wasn’t a part of the family than pay him.

  He forced the thoughts from his mind. He didn’t want to think about how his father was still disappointed in him. He wasn’t about to let his daed or anyone else spoil today.

  Zach started whistling a church hymn, taking in the bright sunshine and cloudless sky. This kind of day breathed from the heavens, his grandfather used to say. He never paid much attention to the phrase before, but now he understood what his grandfather meant. Something was changing inside Zach. He had worked harder than he ever had in his life, and the sense of accomplishment brought a joy he’d never experienced before. He finally understood what his father meant by gaining satisfaction through a job well done, even if his daed refused to recognize Zach’s accomplishment.

  He passed by a large white Amish house set far back from the road, its dirt drive winding through a green field of short grass. Just past the house was a huge fiel
d filled with leafy, green cornstalks that had been picked clean and left to turn brown. Everything around him was bathed in sunlight, which warmed him in the black buggy. He pushed back his hat, letting the breeze cool his damp forehead. Hot already. It was going to be a scorcher today.

  His thoughts skidded to a stop when he saw the schoolhouse. As his buggy neared, he gave his head a quick shake. Was he seeing things? Had to be. There was no way a woman’s legs were dangling out the window of the schoolhouse.

  He blinked again, but he still saw them. Black shoes, black knee socks, and a light gray dress draped over her calves. Good grief, was that Ruth? He spurred Maggie onward. When he whipped into the drive, he couldn’t keep his eyes off the window and the slender woman hanging halfway out of it.

  He reined his horse to a stop and dashed out of the buggy. “Ruth!”

  The legs started kicking harder, making her dress sway. “Help!” came a muffled voice from inside the building.

  He yanked up the heavy window, put his hands on her small waist, and pulled her out, placing her on the ground in front of him. The window immediately slammed shut.

  Ruth bent over, gasping for air. He moved closer to her. “Ruth, are you all right?”

  She stood and pressed her hand against her stomach. A few seconds later, she took a couple of deep breaths then turned and faced him. To his relief, she seemed okay. How had she climbed in the window anyway? He looked around, expecting to see the metal tub from the shed underneath the window, but it wasn’t there. She must have stood on something, unless she’d hoisted herself on her own. Her cheeks were flushed, and her skin was shiny with perspiration. Her white apron was twisted to the side, and strands of her hair had loosened from her kapp. But she wasn’t hurt. This was the second time he’d seen her looking disheveled, and he had to admit he kind of liked it. She looked pretty . . . cute.

  Her surprised gaze met his as she took a couple more big breaths. “Zachariah?”