by Marta Perry
“I hope it’s not a problem to add two new scholars into your classroom in the middle of the year,” he said.
His mind wandered to the things he’d have to tell Susannah about the kinder, sooner or later. Things that had made him return home, seeking help and stability from his parents.
There was William’s talent for mischief making. And Anna’s shyness, which seemed to be getting worse, not better. But something in him balked at the thought of confessing his failings as a parent to Susannah, of all people.
With her hand resting on the nearest desk, Susannah seemed very much at ease and in command in her classroom. “Becky, would you mind taking William and Anna out to join the twins on the swings? I have some papers their daadi must fill out.”
Becky nodded and held out her hands to the children. “Komm. I’ll show you the playground.”
To his surprise, Anna took Becky’s hand and trotted alongside her with only one backward glance. William, of course, raced ahead of them. After a pause at the door to allow Becky to grab a jacket against the winter chill, they went outside.
“Denke, Susannah.” He turned back to her. “I wanted a chance to talk without the children overhearing.”
“Of course.” Her tone was suddenly cool and formal. She walked to the teacher’s desk and retrieved a folder from a drawer, not speaking. Then she turned back to him. “Here are some forms you can fill out and return when you bring the kinder to class. Will you want them to start tomorrow?”
He nodded as he took the papers, hesitating in the face of her frosty demeanor. It was as if all Susannah’s gentle friendliness had left the room with his kinder.
Still, he could hardly expect her to welcome him back, not after what he’d done. Groping for something to say, he noticed the Christmas stars strewn across her desk, and the sight made him smile.
“Is it time for the Christmas program already? Some things never change, ain’t so?”
Susannah nodded, her expression brightening. “It wouldn’t seem like Christmas if we didn’t have the school Christmas program to look forward to. Becky and I were just saying that the challenge is to come up with something new every year.”
“It’s not possible, is it?” He felt a sudden longing to keep her smiling, to keep her from thinking about their past. “Except that someone usually makes a new and different mistake each time.”
Susannah leaned against the desk, her face relaxing just a little. “I seem to remember a few mistakes that might have been intentional. Like a certain boy who mixed up the letters in the word the class was supposed to be spelling out, so that our Merry Christmas greeting didn’t make any sense.”
He grinned at the memory. “Don’t mention that to William, or he’ll try to outdo my mischief making.”
“I’ll keep your secret,” she said, the corners of her lips curving, making the words sound almost like a promise.
For a moment they stood looking at each other, and he felt as if they were sixteen years old again, knowing each other so well they hardly needed words to communicate. How was it that the past ten years had disappeared so quickly and the link between them still remained?
“Susannah, I hope—” He stopped, not sure he wanted to go on with what he’d impulsively begun.
“What?” Her eyebrows lifted, her green eyes open and questioning, just like they used to be before he’d given her cause to regard him with wariness and suspicion.
He sucked in a breath, determined to get the words out before he lost his courage. “I just hope my return isn’t...well, difficult for you...after the way we parted.”
After the way he’d panicked as their wedding date grew closer, bolting in the night with only a short note left behind to explain himself.
All the vitality seemed to leave Susannah’s face. She turned, taking a step away from him. The moment shattered as if it had never happened.
“Of course not.” Susannah’s voice was colorless, her voice that of a stranger. “I’m sure everyone in Pine Creek will be happy to wilkom you home.”
Toby carefully smoothed the papers he’d clenched in his hand. Susannah didn’t need words to spell out what she felt. It was only too clear.
She hadn’t forgotten, and she hadn’t forgiven.
Chapter Two
Susannah held her breath, fearing her denial hadn’t been very convincing. If she wasn’t bothered by Toby’s return to Pine Creek, why did she find it necessary to hide her expression from him?
Because he’d always been able to read her emotions too clearly, answered a small voice in her thoughts. Because she was afraid that the feelings between them might still be there.
Grow up, she told herself fiercely and swung around to face him. She touched her desk with the tips of her fingers, and the reminder of who and where she was seemed to steady her.
“It’s been a long time.” She hoped her smile was more natural now. “I’m sure people will chatter about us, remembering that we planned to marry. But if we show them that we are nothing more than old friends, that should silence the gossip, ain’t so?”
If he believed her only concern was what people might say, so much the better. And it was certain sure the grapevine would wag with this tale for a time.
“If you can stand it, I can.” Toby’s smile was full of relief. It relaxed the tight lines of his face, making him look more like the boy she remembered.
As for the rest... Well, Toby had changed, of course. Maybe men changed more between twenty and thirty than women did. Toby seemed taller, broader, even more substantial in a way. He looked as if it would take a lot to move him.
His hair, always the glossy brown of horse chestnuts, might be a shade darker, but she’d guess it still had glints of bronze in the sun. His eyes were a deep, deep blue, but there were tiny lines at the corners of them now, no doubt because of the difficult time he’d been through with his wife’s death. His curly dark beard hid his chin, but she had no doubt it was as stubborn as ever.
Realizing she was studying his face too long, Susannah said, “Tell me a little about your young ones. Have they had a difficult time adjusting to their mammi’s death?”
Toby nodded. He perched on one of the first grader’s desks, looking like a giant amid the child-size furniture. “It hasn’t been easy. It’s been over a year, you know. I suppose I thought her loss would become less hurtful for them after a time, but that doesn’t seem to be happening.”
“I’m sorry.” Her heart ached at his obvious pain. Poor children. Poor Toby, trying to deal with them and cope with his own grief, as well. “There isn’t any timetable for grief, I’m afraid. For a child to lose his or her mother is devastating.”
“It is.” He rubbed the back of his neck in a gesture so familiar that it made her heart lurch. “I feel like a pretty poor substitute for Emma in their eyes.”
“They need you to be their father, not their mother,” she said gently. “Was your wife’s family not able to help?”
Toby hunched his shoulders. “They had moved to Colorado to help start a new settlement before Emma became sick. Her mother came for a time, but I can’t say it helped a lot. She was so sad herself that it seemed to make the pain even worse for the kinder.”
“So that’s why you decided to come back home.” It was growing easier to talk to him with every word. Soon it wouldn’t bother her at all, and she could treat Toby just as she would any other friend of her childhood.
“That’s so. I knew I needed more help, and my folks kept urging me to come. Then Daad’s accident seemed to make it more crucial.” Toby shifted a little, maybe finding the small desk not well suited for sitting on. His black jacket swung open, showing the dark blue shirt he wore, which nearly matched his eyes. “Daad has always wanted me to work with him in the carriage-building business.” He abruptly stopped speaking, leaving Sus
annah to think there was more to his decision than he’d admitted.
“Is that what you want, too?”
Toby’s face lit up. “More than anything. Working with Daad was always the future I’d planned for myself, before I...left.”
Susannah had been so wrapped up in her own loss ten years ago that she’d never thought about what Toby had given up when he’d run away from their impending wedding.
“Well, it’s gut that you can join him now.” She forced a cheerful note into her voice. “Especially since he’s laid up. Although I don’t suppose he’s as busy in the winter, anyway, is he?”
“No. Daad says if he had to fall out of the hayloft, he picked the best time to do it. He’d intended to keep working over the winter, but all he’s been able to do is supervise some repairs with Ben doing the work. And constantly criticizing, according to Ben.” He chuckled.
Ben, Toby’s younger brother, had been one of Susannah’s scholars only a few years ago.
Susannah hesitated, but there was a question she wanted answered, and since they were talking so freely, maybe it was best just to get it out.
“I hope you didn’t delay your return all this time because of what happened between us.” That was as close as she could come to asking him outright.
Toby’s eyes widened. “No, Susannah. Please don’t think so. The truth is that Emma didn’t want to move away from her family and the community she’d always known.” He shrugged. “I didn’t much like working in a factory, but I couldn’t bear to tear her away from her family.”
No, she could imagine that Toby hadn’t been well suited to factory work. He’d always wanted to do things his own way and at his own pace. “You made the best decisions you could, I’m sure.”
Toby’s face tightened, and she had a sense of things unsaid. “Well, I’m here now, anyway. I thought Ben might resent me joining the business, but he seems wonderful glad to have someone else for Daad to blame when things go wrong.” His face relaxed in a grin. “Daad’s a little testy since he can’t do things on his own.”
“I’m sure. Your mamm mentioned that she had her hands full with him.”
“That she does. I’m afraid it’s an added burden, me returning with the two kinder. But I didn’t know what else to do.”
“Ach, don’t think that way.” She nearly reached out to him in sympathy but drew back just in time. She couldn’t let herself get too close to Toby, for both their sakes. “You know your parents want nothing more than to have you and their grandchildren with them. Your mamm is always talking about the two of them.”
“She may not be so happy when she realizes what she’s got herself into.” He stared down at his hands, knotted into fists against his black broadfall trousers. “The truth is, William and Anna are both...difficult.”
Susannah had the sense that this was what Toby had been trying to say since the kinder had left the room, and she murmured a silent prayer for the right words.
“Difficult how?” She tried to smile reassuringly. “You don’t need to be afraid to confide in me, Toby. Anything you tell me about the kinder is private, and as their teacher, I can help them best if I understand what’s happening with them.”
He nodded, exhaling a long breath. “I know I can trust you, Susannah.” A fleeting smile crossed his face, then was gone. “I always could.”
No doubt he was remembering all the times she hadn’t told on him when he’d been up to mischief. “Just tell me what troubles you about them,” she said.
“My little Anna,” he began. “Well, you saw how she is. So shy she hardly ever says a word. She was never as outgoing as William, but she used to chirp along like a little bird when it was just the family. Now she scarcely talks even to me.”
Susannah’s heart twisted at his obvious pain. “Is it just since her mammi died?”
He nodded. “That’s when I started noticing it, anyway. She hasn’t even warmed up to her grossmammi yet, and I know that hurts my mother.”
“She’ll be patient,” Susannah said, knowing Sara Unger would do anything for her grandchildren. “What about William? He’s not suffering from shyness, I’d say.”
“No.” Toby didn’t smile at her comment. If anything, he looked even more worried. “William has been a problem in another way.” He hesitated, making her realize how difficult it was for him to talk about his children to her. “William has been getting up to mischief.”
“Well, he probably takes after his father. You shouldn’t—”
He shook his head, stopping her. “I’m not talking about the kind of pranks I used to play. I’m talking about serious things. Things where he could have been badly hurt.” He paled. “He tried to ride bareback on a young colt that was hardly broken to harness. He challenged one of the other boys to jump from the barn window, and it’s a wonder he wasn’t hurt.” Toby’s jaw tightened. “He started a fire in the shed. If I hadn’t seen the smoke—” He broke off abruptly.
Susannah’s thoughts were reeling, but she knew she had to reassure him somehow. Say something that would show she was on his side.
“I’m so sorry, Toby.” Her heart was in the words. “But you mustn’t despair. William is young, and he’s acting out his pain over his mother in the only way he can think of. This is going to get better.”
“I want to believe that.” The bleakness in his expression told her he didn’t quite mean what he said.
“There’s a way to reach William, I promise you. I’ll do everything I can to help him. To help both of them.”
Wanting only to ease the pain she read in Toby’s face, she reached out to clasp his hand. The instant they touched, she knew she’d made a mistake.
Their eyes met with a sudden, startled awareness. His seemed to darken, and Susannah felt her breath catch in her throat. For a long moment, they were motionless, hands clasped, gazes intertwined.
And then he let go of her hand as abruptly as if he’d touched a hot stove. He cleared his throat. “Denke, Susannah.” His voice had roughened. “I knew the kinder could count on you for help.”
She clasped her hands together tightly, feeling as if she’d forgotten how to breathe. “That’s why I’m here,” she said. She managed a bland smile and retreated behind her desk.
Toby rose, and for the life of her, she couldn’t think of anything else to say. But one thing had become very clear to her.
She wasn’t over Toby Unger at all, and somehow, she was going to have to learn to deal with it.
* * *
Toby sat at the kitchen table by lamplight with Daad while Mamm put dishes away. He felt as if he’d jumped backward in time. He and Daad used to sit like this in the evening when the chores were done, hearing the life of the household go on around them while Daad planned out their next day’s work.
The two sisters who’d come after him were married now, with families of their own, but his youngest sister, Sally, was upstairs putting William and Anna to bed for him. Sixteen, and just starting her rumspringa years, Sally had developed into a beauty, but she didn’t seem aware of it. Maybe she thought it was natural to have all the boys flocking around her the way they did. It didn’t turn her head, at any rate. She was sweet and loving with his children—an unexpected blessing upon his return.
And Susannah? Would she be a blessing, as well? He still felt that jolt of surprise he’d experienced when their eyes first met. How could he still feel an attraction for the woman he’d jilted ten years ago?
Mamm leaned across him to pour a little more coffee into Daad’s cup. “Did you have a chance to talk to Susannah today about the kinder?”
He nodded. He had to keep his mind on his children. Any flicker of attraction he felt for Susannah was surely just a result of seeing someone again he’d once been so close to.
“It wasn’t easy to tell her,” he admitted. “But
I figured she needed to know about my worries if she’s going to be their teacher.”
“You don’t need to worry about Susannah. She’s not one to go blabbing about private things.” Daad’s voice was a low bass rumble. He shifted position on the chair, and Toby suspected the heavy cast on his leg was troubling him.
“She’s a fine teacher,” Mamm said warmly. “Look how patient she was with that boy of Harley Esch’s when he had trouble learning. And now he’s reading just as well as can be, his mamm told me. She can’t say enough about Teacher Susannah.”
“I’m glad to know it. I hope she does as well with William and Anna.” Toby raised his gaze to the ceiling, hoping that William wasn’t upstairs giving his young aunt any trouble.
“Ach, you’re worrying too much.” His mother patted his shoulder, fondly letting her hand rest there. “You’ll see. Just being here with family is going to do them a world of good. And Susannah will help them, too.”
Toby nodded, smiling, and wished he could share her confidence. The thing he couldn’t talk about, never even thought about if he could help it, reared its ugly head.
If he hadn’t rushed into marriage with Emma, if he had been a better husband, if he had been able to love her as much as he should have...
Once started, that train of thought could go on and on. He had to stop before the burden of guilt grew too heavy to carry.
“We’ve been fortunate to have Susannah settle in and teach for over ten years,” Mamm said. “It’s not often that a teacher stays so long. Usually just when they have experience, they up and get married—” She stopped abruptly, maybe thinking she was getting into rocky territory.
Was he the reason Susannah had never married? If so, he’d done even more harm than he’d known.
“I hear James Keim is saying she’s been there too long,” Daad commented, stretching his good leg.
Toby frowned. “Who is James Keim, and why would he be saying something like that?”
