An Amish Holiday Family

by Jo Ann Brown

  The older boy frowned. “Hey, this isn’t where the driver sits.”

  “No, it isn’t.” Robert dropped the canvas. When Beth Ann motioned she’d tie it into place, he went around to the side and climbed into the front seat. As she took a seat beside him, he looked over his shoulder. “A horse is like a car. You can’t drive it without lessons.”

  “Will you teach me?” Dougie asked.

  “Me, too,” echoed his siblings as he gave Clipper the order to go.

  “You’re too young yet,” Robert said.

  “When did you learn to drive?” Dougie rested his arms on the front seat.

  “When I was...” He gulped.

  “Most plain boys learn to drive,” she said, “around eleven or so.”

  “I’ll be eleven in February,” the boy replied. “Will you teach me?”

  Beth Ann couldn’t keep from laughing at the shock on Robert’s face. “It looks as if you’re about to become a driving teacher.”

  “I guess I am.” He turned to look at her as Dougie began regaling his siblings with stories about how life would be once he learned to drive a buggy. Beneath the excited voices from the back seat, he asked, “How about you?”

  “How about me what?”

  “Do you know how to drive a buggy?”

  “No.”

  He gave her a grin. “I’d say it’s time you learned, too. It’ll be a gut way for me to practice being a teacher.”

  “So I’ll be your guinea pig?”

  “Something like that.” When he chuckled, she joined in. She had to admit she liked the idea of spending more time with Robert, knowing they never could be more than friends because he was Amish and she wasn’t. He wouldn’t look at her as a possible wife and then turn away because of the brace she wore.

  For now, that would be for the best.

  Wouldn’t it?

  Chapter Five

  When Robert looked back on the following three days, he wasn’t sure how they survived the chaos. The shopping trip ended with the buggy filled with enough bags so each of the kinder had clothing for several days. Knowing Beth Ann was grateful there was a tiny laundry room attached to the mayor’s garage, he guessed she’d be doing wash every day. Tommy didn’t seem able to get through a meal without spilling something on himself and, often, someone else. She’d insisted on everything being able to be washed and dried. Even their new winter coats and sneakers could go into the washer.

  He’d spent the past three days working at the project house during the day and trying to spend time with the kinder in the evening, so Beth Ann could have time for laundry or mending holes in the kids’ older clothes. She was exhausted and frustrated, and so was he, but not with the demands of her new family.

  He was frustrated because it seemed each time he’d needed a tool at the project house, it had been missing from where it should be stored. Others had begun to complain about tools not being where they’d left them. When Michael had brought everyone together for a meeting, they realized it might not have been negligence on the part of their harried team.

  Tools weren’t misplaced. They were gone.

  Was someone helping themselves to the tools? Michael had cautioned them not to start looking at one another as potential thieves. There might be another explanation, and they needed to continue to work together. Robert appreciated Michael’s caution, but he sensed their leader thought a thief had been sneaking into the house.

  Robert did, too, but he didn’t know anyone in Evergreen Corners well enough to guess who might be behind the vanished tools. He’d been relieved when Beth Ann asked for his help with the move. It was an excuse to avoid the strained work site for a day.

  Beth Ann and the Henderson kinder settled into the apartment over Gladys Whittaker’s garage as soon as the Kauffmans had vacated it. The space was about twice the size of the cabin where they’d been squeezed in together. The tiny living room had a foldout couch that Dougie claimed. Robert hoped Dougie wasn’t planning to slip out during the night, but doubted he’d leave his siblings even for a short time.

  With the bed open, there wasn’t room for the dining table. Robert brought a smaller table he’d been working on in the unfinished apartment next to where he was living.

  When Beth Ann saw it, she stared. “This is beautiful. Where did it come from?”

  “I built it.”

  “You do fine woodworking, Robert.”

  He was about to explain how he’d found a haven in working with Old Terry, but one of the kinder called for her to come into the larger bedroom where the two younger ones would sleep. He smiled as she rushed away to answer them.

  The bunk beds delighted both Crystal and Tommy, though there was debate about who would sleep where until Tommy climbed to the top and decided he’d preferred the bottom bunk. The bathroom had a shower, which thrilled the kids. In Beth Ann’s room were a comfortable bed and a dresser and a tiny closet. The kitchen was barely larger than the one at the cabin.

  It seemed like a place that could become home, and Robert was surprised at his pinch of envy. Since he’d sold the remnants of his family’s farm, he’d felt lost. His hopes that he’d regain his roots in Evergreen Corners, because his sister and her family lived there, hadn’t come to fruition. Not yet, he’d remind himself, cautioning patience. Rachel had confided she was beginning to feel like she was a true resident of the small town, and she’d lived there for several months.

  Putting the last bag from the cabin on the floor next to the packed boxes and bags and Beth Ann’s single battered suitcase, Robert was amazed when Tommy grabbed his hand.

  “C’mere,” the little boy said. “See my new bed.”

  Robert glanced toward the kitchen where Beth Ann was unpacking the groceries she’d brought. Seeing the small stack of boxes and cans, he wondered how long it would take the state to send its first stipend for the kinder’s upkeep. Pastor Hershey had offered Beth Ann money from the chapel’s coffers, which she’d accepted, but with more storage space, she needed plenty of money to fill her cupboards and three ravenous kinder.

  “Go ahead,” she said with a smile. “He can’t wait to show it off to someone.”

  “Let me know if you need anything.”

  “Don’t worry,” said Dougie as he dumped clothes on the sofa. “We will.”

  The boy was, Robert guessed, hiding uneasiness behind an abrasive attitude. The youngsters had lost their mamm, had their aenti abandon them and moved in with Beth Ann and now into the apartment. Giving the kids some slack would be wise. He wouldn’t let Dougie’s sarcastic comments get under his skin.

  “Are you coming?” demanded Tommy, his hands fisted on his hips.

  “Right behind you,” Robert answered.

  This morning, as they began carrying the boxes and bags across the village green, Beth Ann had urged him to be himself around the Henderson kinder. She wouldn’t have if she’d had any idea what his childhood had been like. He’d seldom experienced any interactions with his daed that didn’t end with a slap across the face or worse.

  After admiring Tommy’s new bed and agreeing Woodsy, his stuffed bear, looked very much at home on the lower bunk, Robert went into the living room and opened a heavy box.

  It was, as he’d guessed, filled with books Beth Ann had brought with her from Pennsylvania. He saw romance novels and a few mysteries as well as a daily devotional and a well-thumbed Bible.

  “Those go on the top of the dresser in the bedroom,” Beth Ann said behind him. Frowning, she reached past him and picked up a small box on the window sill. “What’s this?”

  “Something I thought you might enjoy.”

  Her eyes widened when she looked at the box with its photo of a tiny lamp with a clip at the end. It would hook onto a book or a piece of furniture, and according to the information printed on the box, its thin stream of light would make it pos
sible for her to read without waking the children.

  “What a clever device!” she exclaimed.

  “I saw it when I was looking around the store in town the other day, and I thought you should have it.”

  “How much do I owe you?”

  “You owe me?” He gave a quick laugh. “I owe you for taking the lion’s share of the care of the kinder. Getting you this little light hardly pays you back.”

  “I didn’t know we were keeping score.”

  “We aren’t.” He grimaced. “Can’t you accept it as a gift?”

  “Of course I can.” She looked chagrined. “I’m sorry, Robert. I should have thanked you.”

  He thought of different things to say, things like he appreciated how she hadn’t complained he’d spent more time working than with her and the kinder. How he’d been glad to spend some of his dwindling funds to buy her the gift. How he wished they could have another chance to speak as they had by the covered bridge before the kinder had burst into their lives and kept her so busy.

  Instead he said, “I should have understood how you might question why a stranger bought you a gift.”

  “Stranger? Do you think that’s what I consider you?” She laughed. “After the past week, I’d say we’ve deserved the right to call each other friend.”

  “I agree.” He turned away as if interested in the box. He hoped his face didn’t reveal how pleasing her words were, because talking about being friends led him to think about spending more time with her. That must not happen. Even if she were Amish, he had nothing to offer her. Not when his pockets were almost empty, and he had no prospects for the future.

  * * *

  Monday morning was chaos. Beth Ann was pulled one way and another by questions from the children as she helped them get ready for school. Yesterday, when she’d taken them to church with her, hadn’t been so hectic. The kids had been curious about the service, and they’d sat without fidgeting while Pastor Hershey gave his sermon. They’d smiled when older members of the congregation smiled and patted their heads.

  Yesterday’s good behavior was gone. Dougie wasn’t happy about going to school while Crystal and Tommy couldn’t contain their excitement. That meant another change of clothing for the little boy because he spilled his milk and his orange juice during breakfast.

  She glanced at the clock, hoping the children weren’t going to be late. School started at eight, and it would take five minutes for her to go across the green and up the street.

  “I want penders,” Tommy demanded with a pout when she put out a dry shirt and pants on the bed for him.

  “Penders?” she repeated.

  He nodded. “Penders!”

  She looked at Crystal, who stood in the doorway. The girl sometimes could translate what her little brother meant, but she shrugged.

  “Let’s talk about it after school,” Beth Ann said with a smile. “How’s that?”

  Tommy’s pout eased, but she could tell he wasn’t happy about delaying any discussion about penders...whatever they were.

  When she heard a knock on the door, she wanted to groan with frustration. Who was coming to the apartment at this time of day on a Monday morning?

  Beth Ann rushed out as Dougie opened the door. She halted in mid-step when she saw Robert at the top of the stairs.

  “I thought you might need help,” he said.

  Her first impulse was to give him a big kiss on the cheek, but she quelled it. First, because it would embarrass him. Second, because she wasn’t sure if she’d be satisfied with kissing just his cheek. The thought unsettled her, and she found herself stumbling for words.

  She settled for, “Thanks, Robert. Come in.”

  Crystal and Dougie asked her a question about lunch at the same time. Assuring them Pastor Hershey had made arrangements so they could eat in the cafeteria, she hoped the questions didn’t mean there had been days when, without money to pay and too much pride to ask, they hadn’t gotten anything to eat.

  Making sure they had the right backpack, because Dougie and Tommy had chosen identical ones with their favorite superhero, she pulled on her coat. She bent to help Tommy with his zipper, but kept an eye on the older two. Dougie thought he was too old to wear his coat, and Crystal copied what he did.

  Robert picked up a stack of papers she’d left on the table so she’d remember to take them with her. Flipping through them, he frowned. “Why isn’t my name on this?”

  She’d assumed he wouldn’t want to be an emergency contact for the children. As she took the stapled pages from him, she said, “You don’t have a cell phone or an answering machine where you’re staying, so how would they contact you? I thought it would be better to have Pastor Hershey’s office on the form because there’s someone there during the day.”

  “I didn’t mean that section. What about this section?” He pointed to the list of names of who could pick up the children. “Why isn’t my name on it?”

  “I wasn’t sure you’d want to be.”

  He blinked once, then twice.

  “If you want,” she said, “you can come with us and have your name added.”

  “I can put my name on here.”

  “They’ll want to meet you first. With most parents, the school office asks for a photo ID and takes a photo, so it can be matched when someone asks to pick up a child.” She raised her hand before he could protest. “I know you won’t want to have your picture taken, Robert. So that’s why you’re going to have to go in person.”

  “Paperwork is the same the world around, ain’t so?”

  She smiled at the teasing question as she motioned for the kids to go outside. Grabbing her black purse and buttoning her own coat, she waited until Robert had followed them before she closed the door behind her.

  She took Tommy’s hand as they descended the stairs. Robert offered his to Crystal, but the girl must not have seen it, because she skipped down on her own, trying to keep up with her big brother. When Robert cautioned them not to cross the street on their own, both kids shot him a peeved frown.

  “He’s right,” Beth Ann said, though the kids had wandered around town without adult guidance since their aunt had left them.

  She ignored their grumbling and held the younger children’s hands as they crossed to the village green. Releasing them, she smiled as they chased after Dougie, who sprinted through the snow.

  As Robert matched her steps, he said, “They aren’t comfortable around me.”

  “Because you aren’t comfortable around them.”

  Her words pricked him because his shoulders stiffened. “I didn’t know it was obvious.”

  “Kids see things more clearly than adults do. Maybe it’s because they’re dependent on us, but they watch for signals to guess what we’re thinking.” She patted his arm. “Be yourself around them.”

  “Be myself?” He arched his brows, but she couldn’t guess why he seemed to think that wasn’t a good idea.

  She didn’t ask while they walked to the elementary school. The original building had been destroyed during the floods. Classes were in portable classrooms set to the far side of the playground while work was being completed on the replacement building. The cluster of trailers provided space for kindergarten through fourth grade, and the middle school pupils were being taught in what had been the Grange Hall. A single battered tree stood in the yard. The scarred earth was hidden beneath snow that also covered the top of a metal box where donations could be left for the plantings fund.

  The building holding the administrative offices was set to one side. Along the walls of the hall was artwork by the students. A table held a half dozen resin turkeys flanked by straw cornucopias.

  “The office is to the left, right?” Beth Ann asked.

  “Left or right?” asked Tommy, looking in both directions.

  She smiled. “I should have said, ‘The
office is to the left, correct?’” She ruffled the child’s hair. “You’re so literal, aren’t you?”

  “What’s literal?” Crystal came to her younger brother’s defense.

  “It means he takes words exactly as they’re said.” When she saw she had confused the children, she hurried to add, “He’s a good listener.”

  Opening the door marked Office, Beth Ann led the others into a room that looked like a living room. A fireplace was set to one side with low filing cabinets in front of it. Two-thirds of the room was filled with desks, stacked boxes and cubbyholes marked with names she guessed belonged to staff. A counter was high enough for an adult to write on.

  “Can I help you?” called a voice from somewhere beyond the boxes.

  “The children haven’t been attending school,” Beth Ann replied as she watched Robert sit with the kids on a bench along the wall, “and I wanted to make sure they were still enrolled. Can you tell me whom I should talk to?”

  A woman stepped around the boxes. “You can talk to me. I’m Angela Cramer, the school secretary.”

  Angela Cramer was a tall woman with thick glasses. Her graying hair on either side of her round face was pulled back in a stylish knot. By looking at her, Beth Ann guessed she was both kind and strict with the children at the school.

  Ms. Cramer asked, “Those are the Henderson children, aren’t they?”

  “Yes. Douglas, Crystal and Tommy Henderson.”

  Ms. Cramer bent to retrieve a folder from beneath the counter. “So you must be Beth Ann Overholt.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’d heard you’d taken them in.” She lowered her voice as she put the folder on the counter. “A lot of people are grateful you have. Those kids should never have been left alone. If we’d had any idea...” She shook her head and opened the file. “Tommy isn’t registered for school. Is he five?”

  “He will be on Christmas Day.”

  “The cutoff for kindergartners is November first. If they’re not five, they have to wait another year.” Ms. Cramer smiled. “You could put him in the day care center at the church. Gwen O’Malley is excellent at getting little ones prepared for kindergarten. She mentioned the other day she’s got openings. I’m sure Tommy would enjoy it there.”