“Does she need any help?” Although Deborah knew the answer, she still wanted to offer.
“Not that she said. You know your sister. She’s like your mother was, a marvel in the kitchen.” A flicker of sadness crossed his features, then disappeared as he looked at Stephen. “I suppose you’re ready to get started on that barn.”
“Ya. Just tell me what you need me to do.”
Deborah watched as they walked toward the barn together, Stephen’s height overshadowing her father. She smiled again. It was comforting to know someone else was here to help out. She was glad her father didn’t have to take care of the farm on his own.
She looked down at the horse Will held. She was no expert, but she could tell the quality of the workmanship. It must have taken him quite a while to make it. Will was already sitting up in her arms, running his fingers over the wheels. He laughed and held it up to Deborah. “Gaul!”
Deborah smiled. By giving him such a simple gift, Stephen had made them both happy.
Stephen had joined Moses in the loft of the barn. They were straightening up and counting the square bales. Moses picked up a sixth hay bale to put on top of a stack, but he struggled to lift it high enough. Stephen took it from him and completed the task with ease.
Moses nodded, looking impressed. “Must be nice to be so tall.”
“It has its advantages.” Being able to reach things was one Stephen appreciated. But there were also numerous disadvantages. Folding himself into buggies, sitting in chairs that were meant for people half his size, finding size sixteen shoes, which he usually had to special order, especially the work boots. And those were just some of the problems he faced.
“You’re strong as an ox too.” Moses leaned against the hay bales, his chest heaving. “Ah, to be young again.”
“Do you want me to finish this?” Stephen looked at Moses with concern. The man was breathing pretty hard.
“Nah, just let me catch my breath. I’ll be fine in a minute.”
As he waited, Stephen looked around the huge barn that housed several different animals. One side was dedicated to the cows, while the other half of the barn had been divided into three sections—a stall for the horse, a gated area for the pigs, and a small area for the goats, which he’d cleaned yesterday. He hoped to have the rest of the barn finished tonight. The Byler family had a much smaller barn that only held two horses and had an extended roof to shield the buggies from the elements. Usually it took him less than an hour to clean it out. It wouldn’t be the same for this barn.
“All right, I’m gut now.” Moses moved to stand by Stephen. He scratched his chin. “Gotta decide what to tackle next.”
Stephen thought the old man sounded overwhelmed. “What about the pigpen?”
“Sounds gut to me.”
They had both just climbed down the ladder leading to the loft when he heard a woman speak. “Daed? Supper is ready.”
Stephen turned around and saw Deborah’s sister, Naomi, standing in the barn doorway. Over the years he’d seen Naomi at church, but she was older than he was and he never paid her much attention. But when he’d arrived yesterday, he’d been struck by how different she and Deborah looked. Deborah’s face was round with rosy, prominent cheeks, and Naomi’s was long, almost rectangular, with flatter cheeks and a tight mouth. But the real difference was the eyes. They were the same brown color, yet while Deborah’s were soft, Naomi’s had a hard glint to them. Those eyes narrowed as she turned her gaze on him. “Will you be staying for supper again?”
Just the mention of food made his stomach growl. Yet he should say no. He’d eaten supper with them last night, and he didn’t want them to think they owed him food. He was here to help, not to be an extra mouth to feed. “I don’t want to impose.” Stephen turned to Moses.
“You’re not an imposition. We have plenty.” Even though Naomi’s words had sounded like she wanted him to stay, her expression said the exact opposite, and he wondered if she resented him being here. That strengthened his resolve. He could eat leftovers when he got home. “Danki, but I’m fine.” He turned to Moses. “Geh ahead and eat. I’ll get started on the pen.”
Moses looked to his daughter, then to Stephen. “Are you sure?”
“Ya.”
“All right. You’ll find the shovel and wheelbarrow over by the horse’s stall. I’ll be out as soon as I can.”
“Take your time.” Stephen moved to get the tools as Moses and Naomi left. But before she walked away, she gave him a strange look, then followed her father back to the house.
He looked at the horse, who was poking its head out of the stall. “Wonder what’s got her so out of sorts?”
Chapter 12
Zach rubbed his damp palms on his pants. As soon as Ruth asked him to stay, his pulse had ramped up ten notches. It had taken a great effort for him to sound nonchalant, and he couldn’t tell if he’d been successful or not. Ruth’s expression had been difficult to read, as usual.
He clenched his hands a couple times. What was wrong with him? He’d talked to girls before. He’d even been on a couple of dates, although they hadn’t been anything special, and usually by the end of the date, whatever attraction he’d felt had disappeared. He couldn’t say the same about Ruth. The more he was around her, the more attracted he became. Normally that wouldn’t be a problem, but this was Ruth Byler. The only reason she’d even invited him to stay was because it would be impolite not to do so. And if anyone was a stickler for rules it was Ruth. He doubted she’d ever broken a rule in her life. As for him, he’d spent his childhood smashing rules to bits.
He tied up Maggie, trying to get his hammering heartbeat under control. He took off his hat, ran his hand through his hair, and put the hat back on, making sure it was straight. Not that she would notice. He knew she saw him as little more than the dummkopf who ruined her school, made her miss her meeting, and caused her to get stuck in the window. Still, that didn’t stop him from tucking in his shirt.
When he walked to the front of the house, he saw Ruth on the front porch, her posture stiff, holding the glasses of lemonade in a tight grip as if they were toxic. He should have told her no when she asked him to stay. That would have saved her from pretending she wanted to be around him.
“Can’t stay long,” he said as he skipped up the short steps to the front porch. A look passed over her face, and he couldn’t tell if she was glad or disappointed. The woman was impossible to read.
She handed him the lemonade, barely making eye contact with him. “I hope you enjoy it.”
But as he reached for it, the glass started to slip from her hand. He grabbed it as she pushed it forward. Half of the lemonade splashed on the front of his shirt.
She set the glass down on the porch railing. “Oh no! I’m so sorry, how clumsy of me. It’s all over your shirt now.”
He glanced down to see the wet spot spread across his stomach. “It’s not that bad, Ruth. It will dry in no time.”
“I should have been paying attention.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “That was so dumm.”
Zach noticed the hand holding the other glass was shaking. He took the glass from her and set it next to the half-empty one on the railing. “Ruth, it’s okay, really. It’s just lemonade.”
“I can’t do anything right.” She looked up at him for a moment, her eyes filled with defeat, then turned away.
His heart went out to her. He recognized that look. How many times had he identified with that emotion, had said those exact same words? More than he could count. But they were true for him, not for Ruth. “Don’t say that.”
She faced him, her expression a little more composed, but not much. “I’m a failure.”
“You just spilled a little lemonade. Accidents happen, Ruth. I should know. I’m the keenich of them.”
“I’m not talking about the lemonade. Well, maybe I am. A little.” She walked over to the porch swing and sat down, her shoulders slumping. “I don’t even know what I mean.”
He gazed at her for a moment, taking in her slouched posture, the way her chin nearly touched the top of her chest, the tight grip she had on the hem of her white apron. He’d never seen her like this. Self-defeating. Unsure. A lot like me.
Zach sat down next to her, half expecting her to tell him to leave. She didn’t. But she didn’t look up or say anything either. “Ruth, you’re not a failure. I don’t see how that’s even possible.”
“You weren’t in my class today.” She lifted her head and glanced at him. “Nothing went right. Not a single thing.”
The beaten-down look on her face made him want to put his arms around her. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think.”
“Oh, it was. How many teachers have their students walk out on them?”
That bit of news surprised him. “Really? Some kinn actually left school?”
She nodded, her lips tugging into a deep frown. “Ya. Walked right out and never came back.”
He sat back in the swing, stunned. He’d had his problems with school, and he’d exasperated more than one teacher over the years. Actually he probably irritated every single one. But not once did it dawn on him to walk out of school. That wasn’t done. “Did you try to talk to him?”
Her eyes flashed. “Of course I did! I asked him to step outside so we wouldn’t disturb the other kinner. That’s when he left. But it wasn’t just him.”
As she explained her trials of the day, he began to understand why she was so frustrated. “I think you’re entitled to a bad day or two, don’t you? Everything can’t be perfect.”
“But it’s supposed to be.” She angled her body toward him. “I’ve spent my entire life dreaming of being a teacher. I studied for hours and hours to make sure I had good grades. I made sure I learned the material, not just memorized it for tests. I read books about teaching theory, about child development. I spent half my summer on lesson plans alone!” As she spoke, the irritated spark in her eyes and voice grew. “And for what? I lost control of my class on the first day. That makes me a horrible teacher.”
He let out a chuckle. “It makes you human.”
“I can’t believe you’re laughing at me.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“Nee, I’m not laughing at you. Believe it or not, I know exactly what you’re talking about.”
“You do?”
“Ya. The day you had today? That pretty much describes my life. Minus the whole school part.” He shifted his body so he faced her, resting his bent leg on the swing. “My driving into the school is just one example. Now that was a bad day.”
Her expression softened slightly. “For both of us. But you had the worst of it.”
“And it was my fault. I shouldn’t have been driving Rick’s truck. I’m a gut buggy driver, but not that experienced with cars. I made a bad decision. Just one of many.”
“Maybe becoming a teacher was a bad decision.”
“C’mon now. You don’t believe that.” He leaned toward her, looking straight into her eyes. “No one has more passion for learning than you do. I remember seeing that when we were in school together, even though I didn’t understand it then. All I wanted to do was get out of there, and I thanked God every day I didn’t have to keep going after eighth grade.”
“And I would have gone on through high school, if I could.”
She didn’t have to say what they both knew. The Amish restricted school to age fourteen. If she had made the choice to go to high school, she might not have been able to join the church. He suspected Ruth was just as passionate about her faith as she was about her job.
“But that doesn’t matter right now.” She sighed.
“Ruth. You love school, don’t you?” When she nodded he continued. “And you love teaching.”
“You can tell that?”
He nodded. “You wouldn’t be so upset about what happened if you didn’t.”
She took a deep breath. “I do love it. But I’m not gut at it. Today proved that.”
“Ruth, you’ve spent one day as a teacher. One day. How can you know if you’re any gut or not?”
Her fingers fumbled with the hem of her white apron. “You’re right,” she said softly.
He cupped his hand over his ear. “Excuse me? I didn’t quite hear that.”
“I said you’re right.” She looked up at him, her mouth lifting at one corner.
It was only a half-smile, but he’d take it. “That’s better.” He sat back, grinning.
Ruth was amazed. Zach was able to do something no one, not even her family, had been able to do—understand her. It wasn’t his words that proved that. She could imagine her mother, her sister Moriah, or anyone else telling her the same things—that she wasn’t a failure, that she hadn’t given the job enough time, that she was meant to be a teacher. But it was the way he said them, the sincerity and empathy in his eyes that made her believe he had slipped into her skin, if just for a brief moment. She’d spent her life hiding her doubts and insecurities, fearing others would find her weak or incapable. Yet in the past few minutes, Zach had scaled that invisible wall she’d erected around herself, and instead of feeling fragile, admitting her fears gave her strength.
Letting go of her apron, she looked at Zach, as if seeing him for the first time. Yes, he still had the most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen. And the more she saw him smile, the more affected she became by it. But now she saw past all that. Because while she had let down her defenses, he had let down his too. She wondered if he even realized it.
His grin faded, replaced by a serious expression. “You’re not still feeling like a failure, are you? Because if you are, then my pep talk skills need serious work.”
She shook her head, giving him a full smile. “Nee. Thanks to you, I’m feeling inspired.”
“You are?”
“Ya.” She stood from the swing. It swayed back and forth, then stilled. “Like you said, I can’t let one day determine my capability as a teacher. I need to learn to be flexible. Roll with the punches, so to speak.”
He looked up at her, the swing moving again as he pushed against the porch with his toe. “Why do I think that might be easier said than done?”
“Because it will. I’m not the most spontaneous person in the world.”
“I hadn’t noticed.” His smile widened.
She smirked. “That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try. In Colossians it says we should be kind and humble, and persevere. I think I need to work on all three.”
“Don’t we all.”
“I think you’re right on track.” She said the words with all sincerity.
His bright expression dimmed. “I don’t know about that.”
“Now who’s being self-deprecating?”
His brow lifted. “What does that mean, Ms. Smarty?”
She sat down next to him, a little closer this time. “It means you’re not thinking highly enough of yourself. Which is a shame.”
His mouth tugged downward. “Now I’m the one getting the pep talk?”
“Do you need one?”
He paused, then shook his head. “Nee. I’m fine. And enough about me anyway, I’m boring.”
She thought nothing of the sort, but she didn’t say that.
“Let’s get back to you persevering. What are you going to do about the kinn who left your class?”
“Jacob Kline?”
Surprise lit up his face. “Jacob did that? I knew his daed was having trouble with him at home, but . . .” He shook his head.
“You know Jacob?”
“The buggy shop I work at? The Klines own it. Part of the reason I was hired is because Herr Kline can’t count on Jacob to help out.” He looked down at his lap, then up again. “Kind of reminds me of someone I know.”
“Who?”
“Me.”
Ruth shook her head. “You never walked out of school.”
“Nee. But I was tempted. Knowing my father would have my hide if I did is what kept me from it. I wonder if the Klines
know about this.”
“I doubt it. I was planning to talk to them tonight, but I didn’t have a ride. I’ll speak with him about it tomorrow. I must be doing something wrong.”
“There you geh again.”
“Nee, I’m not speaking out of self-pity. Merely stating a possible fact. There’s something going on, and if I can adjust the way I react to him, plus try to figure out what motivates him, then maybe I can at least keep him in the classroom.”
Zach didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then he looked at her. “You want me to talk to him? I might be able to find out something. Though I can’t make any guarantees.”
“You’d be willing to do that?”
He nodded. “I can see how much you want to help him. And he’s my boss’s sohn. Herr Kline has been gut to me. If I can help him out, I’m willing to.”
Ruth could have hugged him at that moment. “I’ll take any help I can get. Danki, Zach.”
“Gut, you remembered.”
“Remembered what?”
He leaned forward. “To call me Zach. You know, I think there might be hope for our friendship after all.”
She was thinking the exact same thing.
Deborah held a small piece of white meat to Will’s lips. He turned and shook his head, pressing his little lips together. All through the meal, she’d tried to get him to eat the chicken, but he’d refused. She’d have to be satisfied with the mashed potatoes and cooked carrots he’d devoured earlier. She cleaned him up as Naomi finished clearing the table. Deborah gave him the toy horse to play with while she took a plate from the cupboard. She selected a fried chicken leg and put it on the plate, then added a large scoop of potato salad.
“What are you doing?” Naomi was filling the kitchen sink with soapy water. When the bubbles rose to the edge, she turned the faucet off with a hard twist.
“Fixing a plate for Stephen.” She had thought he would join them for supper, but he hadn’t. She knew he had to be hungry, so she thought she’d take a bit of dinner out to him after Will went to bed, just in case he wanted a snack.
The Hearts of Middlefield Collection Page 63
