“Thank you.” Ada had been so focused on the spot her hand had touched on his chest, she’d missed the mud smeared on his pants and shoes as well as the arm and hand her sister was clutching. “I’m so sorry.”
Josiah laughed. “A little mud never hurt anyone.” Then he sobered. “Except for the ones who have to clean it up, I suppose.”
Right now, that was the least of Ada’s worries. Catching her breath was one of her major concerns, along with wondering if Josiah could tell what his nearness was doing to her.
He turned Mary Elizabeth over to her, and their hands brushed. Ada swallowed hard and concentrated on her sister. “Did you hurt yourself anywhere?” She wished her voice were steadier and stronger.
Mary Elizabeth shook her head, sending mud flying and spattering Josiah even more. Ada pinched her lips together and prayed for patience. She started to apologize, but Josiah waved it away.
He glanced down at his already muddy clothes. “It didn’t hurt anything.” Josiah turned toward the goat pen, where David and Nathan were hanging on the fence, side by side.
“Nathan got out?” Ada asked.
Josiah looked chagrined. “Last time he slipped out the driver’s side. Despite all my careful watching, I didn’t monitor the passenger door. I figured it would be too heavy for him. I suspect he had some help.”
The only help would have been from her family. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s good for Nathan to have friends, and they seem to be a calming influence on him. If only I could be too.” Josiah heaved a sigh.
Ada’s heart ached at the sadness in his voice. Teaching Nathan sign language might help eventually, but she wished she had a solution to help him now. She longed to offer to teach Josiah sign language too, but with her emotions ricocheting out of control whenever he was around, that wouldn’t be wise.
“I’d better get going,” Josiah said. “I’ll see you at six thirty.”
“No, I can’t let—”
“I always keep my promises. I promised to be there, so I will.” He headed toward Nathan, leaving Ada spluttering.
As soon as Nathan noticed his daed coming toward him, he cringed and opened his mouth as if to scream.
Again, Ada noticed his odd response. Was Nathan expressing his disappointment at leaving his friends, or was there more to it?
“Josiah,” Ada called, “Why don’t you let Nathan stay with David? We’d be happy to have him, and it won’t be for long if you’re coming over soon.”
Josiah halted and backed up a few steps. Nathan closed his mouth, but watched his daed warily.
Shoulders slumped, Josiah pivoted and walked toward Ada. “I don’t want to put you to any trouble.”
Ada laughed. “I’m offering to watch one child for a few hours, while you’re going to watch seven extra in return.”
At her teasing, some of the light came back into his eyes. “When you put it like that…”
As Josiah turned to go, Ada urged her siblings to get in the buggy. While they were clambering in, her gaze remained focused on his retreating back.
Once he pulled out, her breathing returned to normal. “I’m going inside to let Leah know Mary Elizabeth is all right.” She turned to Sadie.
Before she could say a word, Sadie grumbled, “I know, I know. I’ll watch everyone.”
“I appreciate it,” Ada assured her. “I’ll try to hurry.”
She crossed the parking lot and stuck her head inside the store. “Sorry, I have to go. Mary Elizabeth’s covered in mud.” At the questioning look in Leah’s eyes, Ada added, “She fell over the fence and into the goat pen. She’s fine, but her clothes are a mess.”
“Oh, dear.” Leah suppressed a laugh. “She does seem to keep you hopping.”
“I wanted to hear your news, though.”
Leah’s eyes took on a dreamy look. “I helped deliver Lizzie’s brother last night. Actually I did more than help. Sharon let me do most of it on my own.” She leaned forward, placing her elbows on the counter, an excited expression on her face. “And she asked if I wanted to train under her.”
“But you can’t be certified.” It would be a shame for Leah to put in all the training and then not be able to practice. Sharon Nolt, the certified midwife who delivered all the Amish home births, was a Mennonite.
“That’s the best news of all. Sharon checked into state regulations, and uncertified midwives can deliver babies. So I’m going to be a midwife!”
The joy on Leah’s face filled Ada’s heart to overflowing. “I’m so happy for you!”
“I still have to tell Mamm and Daed, but I’ll find a way to convince them.”
Ada laughed. “I’m sure you will.” As the youngest of eight, Leah managed to charm her parents the way she did everyone else.
Leah hugged herself, as if hugging her secret close. “Don’t tell anyone yet, please.”
“Of course not. I’m happy for you. I’ll stop back another day to hear more about it. Right now, though, I’d better take my muddy sister home.” And prepare for Josiah’s visit.
Chapter Seventeen
On the way home, she told her siblings Josiah would be taking care of them that evening while she attended a meeting.
Once again, Sadie looked sulky. “I like Josiah, but don’t you trust me to take care of everyone?”
If Ada hadn’t been driving the buggy, she’d be rubbing her aching forehead. No matter what she did, she seemed to upset Sadie. Keeping her voice even, she said, “If you’d like the responsibility, I’ll let Josiah know. You can take full charge, and he can sit in the living room in case anyone has an emergency. Is that what you want me to do?”
Sadie sucked in her out-thrust lower lip and stayed silent for a moment. Then she said, “No, I don’t want to take care of everyone, but I wish you had asked me first.”
“I see.” Ada clenched the reins. She seemed to be praying for patience fairly frequently the past few days and more so in the past few hours.
As soon as they got home, Ada assigned chores to everyone but Sadie and Noah, because her brother had to do the milking and care for the horses. “Can you hitch up the carriage?” she asked Noah as he motioned for David to follow him out to the barn.
“You left me out.” This time instead of sticking out, Sadie’s lower lip was quivering.
“I’m giving you a break,” Ada said as she marched Mary Elizabeth off for a bath.
“But I wanted to do something for Josiah too.” Sadie flounced past them. Her sister had evidently taken a liking to Josiah.
Ada rubbed her temples. The dull ache she’d had driving home had increased to a steady pounding. Not sure what would mollify Sadie, Ada racked her brains to think of something that might be more fun than work as her sister stomped down the stairs.
“Why don’t you make a snack for him,” Ada called after her, “but it’ll have to be something that doesn’t need flour.” She wasn’t positive, but Sadie might have snickered.
Once Mary Elizabeth was done with her bath, Ada had her pull up a chair and grease the casserole dish and shred the chicken. Hannah was busy chopping the onions, and the twins had started the noodles and peas. On the other side of the kitchen, Sadie was hunched over a dish on the table. When all the ingredients were ready, Ada helped Mary Elizabeth mix the casserole and put it in the oven.
By the time dinner was ready, David, Nathan, and the twins were bathed and dressed in their nightwear. Ada had added all the muddy clothes, including Nathan’s, to the laundry pile filled with floury dresses. Tomorrow this towering stack would provide Mary Elizabeth’s first lesson in washing clothes. Nathan was dressed in Noah’s outgrown T-shirt and pajama pants.
During the meal, everyone chattered about Josiah’s arrival except Nathan. Sensing his friend’s discomfort, David took him upstairs to his room as soon as dinner ended. Though her siblings begged, Sadie kept her special snack covered with a towel so nobody could peek before Josiah arrived. While the girls washed the dishes, Ada le
ft the kitchen to freshen up and collect a notebook and pen. She could hardly contain her own excitement, although she’d be hard-pressed to say which elated her more—seeing Josiah or attending the class.
When the knock came at six thirty, all the girls were waiting by the door. David and Nathan remained upstairs. Noah was in the barn readying the carriage.
“Guess what, Josiah!” Mary Elizabeth bounced to the door. “I made dinner all by myself.”
“It isn’t all by yourself if everyone else cooks the ingredients,” Sadie said dryly. Then she added, “Besides it’s hochmut to brag about what you do.”
Tears swam in Mary Elizabeth’s eyes, and she ducked her head.
Josiah placed a hand on her shoulder. “The first time you make a meal is special, even if other people help.”
Hannah, who rarely spoke, said softly, “Isn’t it also a sin to judge someone else, Sadie?”
Sadie had the grace to look embarrassed, but then she brightened. “I have a surprise for you, Josiah.”
“I can hardly wait,” he replied, “but I want to check on Nathan first, and let’s make sure Ada is ready to go.”
Josiah’s eyes met hers, and the room around her disappeared as she got lost in their depths. “I—I should go, so I’m not late.”
“Drive carefully. I hope you enjoy your evening.”
Ada clutched her notebook to her chest, struggling to hide her nervousness. “Thank you,” she said as she headed for the door. Before she closed it behind her, she added, “And I hope you enjoy your evening as well.”
Josiah chuckled. “I’m sure I will.”
* * *
Josiah stared after Ada until a tug on his arm reminded him of his duties. Mary Elizabeth pulled him toward the kitchen. “Do you want some of Sadie’s special dessert?”
“That sounds good.” He allowed Mary Elizabeth to show him to a chair, the same one he’d sat in last night, except he missed seeing Ada’s smiling face across the table.
She stood beside him, a serious look on her face. “You’re sitting in Daed’s chair, but he won’t ever sit there again.”
“Mary Elizabeth,” Sadie warned. “You know better.”
When Sadie turned her back to get plates from the cupboard, Mary Elizabeth leaned close to his ear and whispered, “It’s a secret because what Ada did to Daed was bad. Real bad.” Mary Elizabeth straightened up as Sadie headed to the table.
Josiah sat stunned. He was unsure how much of a six-year-old’s story he should believe and wondered what Mary Elizabeth considered “real bad.” The bishop had told him about Ada’s mamm being ill and then dying, but he never mentioned her daed. Ada seemed too sweet and loving to hurt someone.
Sadie plopped a casserole dish on the table. “I’m sorry this is a no-bake dessert, but we didn’t have any flour.” She directed a pointed look at Mary Elizabeth.
Remembering yesterday’s flour disaster, Josiah hid a smile. “This looks delicious. Should we call the others to share it?”
From the pained expression on Sadie’s face, she hadn’t planned to include everyone else, but she went to the stairs and called up. Seconds later, they all thundered down the steps. Josiah smiled to see Nathan all ready for bed and part of the group. Not only did David stand with him like a bodyguard, but Noah also laid a protective hand on Nathan’s shoulder. Josiah’s pleasure dissolved when he realized the person they were protecting him from was…Me. He’s scared of me.
David led Nathan to the far end of the table, where he’d sat yesterday. The whole time Nathan cast wary looks at Josiah. His son had trouble enjoying his snack because he kept glancing up to check Josiah’s end of the table, as if worried Josiah would jump up and snatch him away from his friends.
I’m not an ogre, Josiah wanted to tell Nathan and his protectors. I’d never hurt him. Never in a million years. His heart heavy, Josiah ate two of the peanut butter bars. Judging by everyone else’s expressions and requests for seconds and thirds, the dessert was a hit, but Josiah barely tasted it.
When the dish was empty, Sadie collected the plates and ordered everyone to brush their teeth. She even supplied Nathan with a new toothbrush from the pantry. Josiah offered to help with the dishes and took advantage of the opportunity alone with her to build bridges.
“I understand you’re the one in charge when Ada’s gone,” he began.
Sadie seemed to be struggling to hide a smile as she filled the sink with dishwater. “Not when you’re here.”
“The problem is,” Josiah continued, “I have no idea what everyone’s usual bedtime routine is, so I’ll need your help. If you don’t mind.”
“I’m happy to help.” Sadie flashed him a smile and plunged a stack of plates in the dishwater.
“That’s a relief. I was worried about getting everything wrong.” Josiah wasn’t only saying that to make Sadie feel better. The pressure to do a good job weighed heavily on him. He already felt like a failure as a daed, and now he might have lost his job. He’d like to succeed at one thing today.
Sadie washed, he dried, and she put away. Meanwhile, the others brushed their teeth and got ready for bed. The household worked like a well-oiled laundry wheel. Josiah’s eyes stung as they straightened their rooms and laid out their clothing for the next morning. The only bedtime routine he’d known for the last nine months involved kicking and screaming, tears and exhaustion. And after his son finally fell asleep, Josiah ended up on his hands and knees cleaning up things that had been flung or had broken.
“Before bed we have story time,” Mary Elizabeth informed him.
Story time? Josiah’s heart sank. He hadn’t read a story to a child since…He swallowed. Since Nathan was a toddler. There’d been no time for reading when Ruth and Nathan came back from Mexico—and he couldn’t find a way to communicate the story even if there had been. “I’m not sure I’ll be good at this.”
“That’s all right.” Mary Elizabeth led him into the living room, handed him the Bible story book, and crawled into his lap. The twins crowded close to him on the couch, with Sadie on one side and Hannah on the other.
David pulled a reluctant Nathan into the room. Though David tried to get him to join the group, Nathan resisted. Josiah’s throat constricted when his son crouched in the farthest corner of the room. David, his eyes sad, glanced at everyone sitting on the couch, but went over and sat beside Nathan. Noah followed them. Nathan, sucking on his rabbit’s ear, stared at him with wide, fearful eyes.
“I’ll sign for the boys,” Sadie said.
A dart pierced Josiah’s heart. He couldn’t remember holding his son on his lap the way he was holding Mary Elizabeth. Not since Ruth died. His voice thick, Josiah asked, “What story shall I read?”
“Anything but ‘Daniel and the Lion’s Den,’” Sadie begged.
“You don’t like that story?” Josiah asked. Maybe it was too scary for the younger ones.
“I like it a lot,” Sadie said as she rearranged her position until she faced the boys. “We’ve just been having trouble with Mary Elizabeth growling all day.”
The twins giggled. “She goes around like this.” They bared their teeth and curled their fingers into claws.
Josiah squeezed his eyes shut, torn between laughter and chagrin. Had she copied his demonstration from last night? He only hoped the lesson that went along with the growling had sunk in.
Mary Elizabeth sniffled. “They all make fun of me for trying to be brave.”
Josiah tightened his arm around her. “Being brave is hard, but I’m glad you’re trying.”
She looked up at him with adoring eyes.
“It would be nice if she tried harder,” Sadie said. “And stopped the growling.”
To defuse the tension, Josiah held up the book. “So what story should we read?”
Sadie suggested Queen Esther, and everyone agreed, although Josiah suspected that Mary Elizabeth’s older siblings were hoping she’d adopt a new model of bravery. Josiah stumbled his way through the story, while
Sadie translated it into sign language. He glanced at Nathan surreptitiously from time to time, but from his son’s frowning concentration on Sadie’s hands, Nathan wasn’t understanding much of the story.
When the story was over, they bowed their heads for prayer and then scattered to their rooms. David took Nathan’s hand and led him upstairs. Later when Josiah slipped upstairs to check that all was well, the children were sound asleep, including his son, who was curled at the foot of David’s bed, wrapped in another quilt, his rabbit clutched in his hand.
Josiah’s eyes burned with unshed tears. His son had fit into this family after only a few short days, and he trusted them. Yet he distrusted his own father. Josiah had to find a way to regain that trust and become a family again.
* * *
Ada eased the front door open so she wouldn’t wake her siblings and stopped dead. Josiah sat on the sofa engrossed in a book, the picture of domestic bliss. All of Ada’s dreams came rushing back. To be married, to share a home with a man who loved her and cared for her. Though she had no right to do so, she let fantasy overtake reality.
And then he did look up. Only it wasn’t her future husband, but Josiah meeting her eyes. A shock zinged through her as their gazes connected. She forced herself to lower her eyes, to fight her way through the confusion clouding her thoughts.
“Hi,” she croaked. “How did everything go with the children?”
Josiah seemed as flummoxed as she was. “Um, fine.” He blinked. “You’ve done a wonderful job of organizing your household. Everything ran smoothly, and the children all went to bed on their own. Even Nathan. He’s sleeping at the foot of David’s bed.”
Ada blew out a breath. “I’m glad they didn’t give you any trouble.” She’d worried they might use her absence as an excuse to flout the rules.
“So how was your meeting?”
“It was wonderful. I learned so much,” Ada enthused. “One lady runs a summer camp for children with autism, and she showed pictures of their play area with a rope the children scale to ring a bell, wide wooden balance beams, hammocks, net swings, and so much more. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to have something like that for our school?” All they had were some balls and sidewalk chalk for recess.
The Amish Teacher's Gift Page 14
