by Marta Perry
“Denke, Mary.” Susannah closed the door after the girl, shutting out the chill December air, and then had to open it again as Anna came scurrying from the cloakroom with the twins, always the last to get their coats on.
“We’re going to make a snowman,” Anna announced. “Will you come and look at it when we’re done, Teacher Susannah?”
“I surely will,” she said, doubting that they’d have time to finish before Becky came to collect her daughters.
She closed the door again and realized that Toby was watching her, a tentative smile on his lips.
“Anna is doing better, ain’t so?” He seemed to want reassurance, as any worried father would.
“Much better.” Susannah touched the last of the tall candles he’d been constructing with the older boys. A coat of paint and they’d be ready. “She put her hand in the air this morning when I asked for volunteers to read aloud. That’s real progress from the first few days, when I couldn’t get her to say anything.”
Toby’s expression eased. “You’ve been wonderful gut with her, Susannah. Denke.”
“It’s my job.” Yet she couldn’t help sharing his pleasure. “As for William...”
Toby’s eyes darkened. “What has he done now?”
“Nothing so bad.” She hastened to assure him. “A few scuffles on the playground, that’s all.”
“I was afraid of that.” Toby’s shoulders hunched, and for a moment, he looked like an older version of his son. “I was hoping you’d be able to get through to him. I’m certain sure not doing it.”
The bitterness in his voice shook her. “I’m sorry, Toby. You and he seemed to be talking while you were working together. I prayed things were better.”
Toby shrugged, running his hand down the plywood candle. “Sometimes we start talking like we used to. But then it’s as if William puts a wall up between us.” His jaw tightened. “He’s my own son, and I can’t reach him.”
Susannah longed to deny it, but she’d seen it for herself. William was holding his father at arm’s length, and she didn’t have a guess as to why. Pity stirred in her heart.
“When did things change between you and William?” The question might seem prying, but if Toby wanted her help, she had to ask it, even if it touched on the subject of his wife.
Toby frowned. “It’s related to Emma’s death. It must be. He’s older, so he understood a little better what was happening.”
Her heart twisted. “Ach, Toby, you couldn’t protect him from the pain of his mother’s dying, no matter how much you wanted to.” Any more than he could control his own grief at the loss of his wife.
An unexpected rush of resentment washed over her, and Susannah was horrified. Toby had jilted her and married another woman, and now he expected her to help him deal with the aftermath of her death. She shouldn’t let the resentment have sway—it was unkind and unchristian.
Toby swung away from her with an abrupt movement. “Sorry.” His voice roughened with emotion. “I shouldn’t be talking about Emma, not to you, of all people.”
Shame engulfed Susannah. How could she think of herself in the face of his grief and that of his children?
A prayer formed in her thoughts. Father God, forgive me. Give me a heart clean of pain and jealousy so that I can help them.
She drew in a long, steadying breath. Then she reached out to touch his arm. “Toby, don’t think that. You can talk to me. No matter what else happened between us, we have been friends from the cradle. You can tell me anything.” Her fingers tightened on his arm. “Anything.”
For a long moment she thought he wouldn’t respond. Then his gaze met hers, and she felt as if his expression eased just a little. “Ach, how many mistakes I’ve made in my life. Mistakes other people had to pay for.” He shook his head, as if trying to shake off the pain. “William... I’m afraid that somehow William felt I didn’t love his mammi the way I should.”
Susannah tried to absorb the impact of his words. That was the last thing she’d expected to hear. Hadn’t Emma been the love he’d been looking for when he’d left Pine Creek?
“I don’t understand.” She took a breath, knowing she needed to hear the truth. “Is William right?”
Toby’s jaw tightened. “You thought I left because of you, ain’t so?”
She could only nod, bewildered.
For a long moment, Toby was silent. Then he spoke. “I should have told you this years ago. You deserved to hear the truth from me, and instead I ran away.” He grasped the plywood candle so hard that his knuckles whitened. “I panicked, that’s the truth of it. The closer our wedding came, the more it seemed to me that I was missing out on something.” He frowned down at his hands. “I don’t even know what I expected to find. I longed to experience something more than Pine Creek—to see other places, meet other people.”
She felt the sudden urge to shake him. “Toby, you could have told me. Don’t you know I would have understood? I would have given you whatever time you needed.”
His lips twisted. “I could always be honest with you, Susannah. I know. I didn’t want to face it. I was ashamed to tell you—to see the hurt in your face.”
He sounded almost angry. At himself? At her? She wasn’t sure, and she’d always thought she could read his every mood. He’d been feeling all these emotions, and she’d never even had a hint of it at the time. Had she been too busy filling her dower chest and giggling with her girlfriends at the time?
She tried to zero in on what was important now. “We were young, maybe too young. We both made mistakes. The kinder are what’s important now.”
He nodded, seeming to look past her at something she couldn’t see. “At first all I could think after I went West was how different everything was. There were all these people, and I hadn’t known them from the day I was born. Everyone was a mystery to me. Including Emma.”
“You loved her.” Susannah willed her voice to be steady.
“I fell in love.” His lips twisted in a wry smile. “That’s how it felt. I had grown into love with you, but with Emma it was more like falling from the barn roof and landing with a thud. So we got married, and then I realized that we hardly knew each other at all.”
“You were married.” That was the important thing. The Amish married for life, not like the English world, where people seemed to change mates as often as they changed clothes.
“We tried. I think Emma was happy. But then she got sick. It should have brought us closer together, but it didn’t.”
She knew, without his putting it into words, what he felt. Guilt. He accused himself of not loving Emma enough, and her dying made his guilt all the heavier.
“Toby—”
He cut her off with a sharp movement of his hand. “William was devoted to his mammi. Nothing has been right between us since she died.”
“I’m sorry, Toby.” Focus on the child, she ordered herself. “Have you talked to William about his mother?”
“I’ve tried.” Anger flashed in his face, and she suspected he was glad to feel it after opening his soul to her. “I’ve tried so many times. But William won’t talk about it. He’s slipping away, and I can’t seem to hold on to him.”
She couldn’t be angry with him when she knew the depth of his pain. “I understand. We’ll keep trying, ain’t so? It will get better.” The words sounded as hollow to her as they must to him.
“Ach, Susannah, you sound as if I’m one of the kinder, coming to you with a scraped knee.” His tone was harsh. “This is big and real, and you tell me it will get better.”
Her own anger spurted up. “What else can I say, Toby? You have to have hope. There’s no magic answer. Just keep loving William, that’s all.”
He swung toward her, grasping her wrists. “You...” Whatever he was going to say seemed to get lost as his eyes met hers
. She could feel her pulse pounding against his palms.
“Susannah,” his voice deepened. “I’m such a fool, spilling all this to you. You ought to tell me to go away and solve my own problems.”
“I couldn’t do that.” She tried to smile but failed.
“No.” Everything changed in an instant. His gaze was so intense it seemed to heat her skin, and the very air around them was heavy with emotion. “You couldn’t.” He focused on her lips, and her breath caught in her throat.
She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. She could only wait for his lips to find hers.
His kiss was tentative at first. Gentle, then growing more intense as her lips softened under his. His hands slid up her arms, and he drew her closer. She was sinking into him, unable to feel anything but his strong arms, his warm lips—
Then the schoolroom door flew open, letting in a blast of cold air. Toby let go of her so abruptly she nearly staggered. She turned toward the door.
Mary stood there, her face scarlet. Her mouth worked, but no words came out. She took a backward step and pulled the door shut with a bang.
Susannah could only stand there, aghast. Of all the things that could happen...
“I’ve done it again.” Toby’s mouth twisted as if the words had a bitter taste. “I’ve messed up your life again, haven’t I?”
“Don’t,” she said quickly. “It’s no more your fault than mine. I’ll talk to Mary. I’ll explain.”
But how exactly was she going to explain being caught in an embrace in her own schoolroom? She was afraid she’d just handed James Keim all the ammunition he’d need to get rid of her.
Chapter Six
Toby strode across the narrow schoolhouse porch and down the steps, almost without seeing them. What had he been thinking? How had he let that kiss happen?
Susannah had deserved to hear the reason he’d left her before their wedding, pitiful as it was. At least maybe now she wouldn’t go on thinking it was her fault. It had been his, with his longing to see more of the world. Not that that hadn’t been wrong, but when he’d let his needs hurt others, it had been. He’d acted as if all that was important had been his happiness.
The church was right to teach that happiness wasn’t the goal of life. The goal was to live in obedience to God, with happiness or sorrow coming to everyone at one time or another.
Well, he’d certainly brought Susannah an added measure of sorrow she didn’t deserve. If only Mary could be persuaded not to speak about what she’d seen...
That was probably a futile hope, but he ought to try. Mary was standing by the swings, and she turned away when he approached.
“Mary.” He kept his tone gentle. “Please let me speak to you for a moment.”
Seeing him, William and Anna came hurrying over.
“Daadi, listen.” William tugged on his coat. “I have an idea for the program.”
“Wait, William.” That came out more sharply than he’d intended, and he softened his tone. “Go over to the buggy and wait for me. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“But, Daadi, listen.” William was nothing if not persistent, and Mary had taken several steps away already. In a moment he would lose her.
“Now, William.” He pointed to the buggy.
William’s small face set, but he went, closely followed by Anna.
“Please, Mary, wait.”
She stopped, looking like a bird arrested in flight. Her face was turned away from him, but he caught a glimpse of red cheeks. For sure she’d be embarrassed.
“About what you saw...” He fumbled for words. “It wasn’t Teacher Susannah’s fault. It was mine. I’m to blame. I don’t want her to lose her job over it.”
Mary had to know what he was asking her, but she gave no sign that she understood. He took a step closer, searching for words that might make a difference. But then Mary fled, running across the snow-covered schoolyard to the shed, where her buggy horse was stabled with Susannah’s.
Too late. He wouldn’t have another chance. Approaching Mary again would just make things worse. Frustrated, he stalked toward his own buggy.
Anna and William were perched on the seat, a wool lap robe pulled over them. He swung himself up and took hold of the lines.
He sent one last glance toward the schoolhouse. It went against the grain to drive off and leave Susannah there alone and upset. But anything he said or did now wouldn’t help. He clucked to the horse.
The icy lane crunched under the buggy wheels, and the mare tossed her head, as if expressing her opinion of the cold. The children sat silent under the lap robe. He turned onto the paved road, the mare’s hooves striking the blacktop, already cleared of snow by the cars that had gone by.
Toby made an effort to shake loose the worry that pressed on him. There was no point in making the kinder think something was wrong. If the worst happened, they’d know soon enough.
“It’s looking like Christmas, ain’t so?” He nodded toward the spruce trees along the road, their deep green branches weighed down with a coating of white.
William didn’t respond, but Anna nodded. “Grossmammi said she would make a batch of pfefferneuse. Do you think she’d let me help her?”
“I think she’d be very pleased to have a fine helper like you.”
Anna’s smile lit her face, and she gave a little nod. “Gut. I want to take some to Teacher Susannah.”
His heart lurched at the mention of Susannah, but he managed to smile. “She’ll like it, that’s certain sure.”
William squirmed. “Move over, Anna. You’re taking up the whole seat.”
“Am not,” Anna retorted. “You are.”
Glad as he was to hear Anna standing up for herself, the seat of a moving buggy wasn’t the right place for a scuffle.
“Stop it, both of you.” They turned into the farm lane, the mare’s steps quickening as the barn came into view. “We’re almost there.”
“She’s hogging the seat.” William gave his sister a shove.
Anna cried out, slipping from the seat. Dropping the lines, Toby grabbed her, pulling her to safety. The mare, feeling the lines go slack, picked up her pace, and for a moment, Toby had his hands full holding on to his daughter and groping for the lines. Finally he found them and pulled up.
“Hush, Anna. You’re fine.” He snuggled her against him and focused on William. “What is wrong with you? Your sister could have fallen under the buggy wheels.”
William hunched forward, not looking at him. “She’s not hurt.”
“No thanks to you. You’re big enough to know better than to act that way in a moving buggy. I’m ashamed of you.”
“You’re always ashamed of me.” William flared up so quickly, it was as if he’d set a match to dry tinder. “You wish you didn’t have to be bothered with me.”
“That’s nonsense.” Toby pulled in a breath. This wasn’t the time for anger. “You are my son, William. It’s not a bother to be with you. Why do you think I’m helping with the Christmas program if not to spend more time with you?”
“Not me.” William’s face twisted. “You want to be with Teacher Susannah.”
It was like being hit in the stomach. For a minute Toby couldn’t catch his breath. Before he could speak, William jumped down from the buggy and took off, running toward the barn.
Toby could only stare after him and feel the taste of failure sour in his soul.
* * *
Susannah’s first instinct when she’d left the school had been to flee to Becky. She had to talk to someone about what had just happened. She couldn’t talk to Mamm and Daad about it, at least not until she had to.
Despite Becky’s reputation as a chatterbox, Susannah knew she could trust Becky to keep silent when it was something really important. She c
ouldn’t count the number of secrets they’d shared over the years.
But now, sitting in Becky’s warm kitchen, she couldn’t seem to find the words to begin. Fortunately, Becky didn’t find anything strange about Susannah stopping by after school. Smiling, she set a mug of hot chocolate in front of Susannah.
“That’s what we need on a snowy day, ain’t so?” She sat down opposite her. “Did you see the greens we brought in?”
Susannah nodded, hoping her smile looked natural. “How could I help it? You have all the windowsills decorated. It looks so nice.”
Becky nodded, smiling in satisfaction at the greens and candles on the kitchen windowsill. A few red berries from the winterberry bush had been tucked around the pine, too, making a daring spot of color.
“After the last time we went to town, the twins were asking why we don’t have Christmas trees. I explained that we want to keep our Christmas centered on God’s gift of Jesus, and I think they understand. But I thought it wouldn’t hurt to do a little more with the decor this year. And we set up the putz in the living room, too.”
The putz, or manger scene, was an old tradition in Pennsylvania Dutch homes, including those of some Amish. The children told the Christmas story over and over with the figures.
“They told me all about it when they got to school today.” She hesitated, thinking of how the school day had ended. Maybe she was wrong to burden Becky with her problems. Becky had warned her, but she hadn’t listened.
Becky reached across to touch her fingers. “Susannah, what is it? I can see that something is wrong, and here you are, letting me babble away about evergreens.”
“I don’t...” Susannah stopped before she could deny it, knowing her voice was already shaking. “Ach, Becky, I am in such trouble.”
“Komm now.” Becky clasped both her hands warmly. “It can’t be that bad, can it? Tell me what is wrong.”
She spoke as if she were talking to one of the twins, and Susannah was reminded of Toby’s anger when he said she was speaking to him as if he were a child.
