by Laura Hilton
But how could she hope to justify a trip to a place these parents would surely consider too materialistic? She could hear their argument, even now: “Textbooks have perfectly adequate pictures of wildlife, so there’s no reason to subject the children to such worldly notions as big bass boats and other equipment for outdoor adventures.”
Annie had gone to the shop and museum with Luke while on her single trip to Springfield during her brief rumschpringe. On the same outing, she’d enjoyed a drink at the koffee shop—not koffee, though; she’d ordered chai—her first and, from all appearances, probably her last. Then, they’d gone to the Wildlife Facility and watched live fish and turtles swimming in a small pool. They’d even had some alligators there, like a real zoo, which she could observe without worry about them making her their next meal. She and Luke had leaned on the fence and sipped their drinks while they watched the bizarre scaly creatures.
Really, the whole shop and museum had been fascinating. But she’d never be able to take her scholars there. Unless she could come up with justification for making the trip.
Thomas Miller, the head of the school board, cleared his throat and glanced down the long wooden table. “Then, we will discuss this matter and pray over it. We’ll let you know our decision, Annie Beiler.”
At least none of the parents was clamoring for her immediate dismissal.
“But this trip, with you on probation….” Samuel Brunstettler shook his head, causing his long beard to flutter. “Things are not looking gut for you.”
The lump settled back in her stomach. If she were fired, what would she do? Work as some mother’s helper until she married?
With no one offering to take her home from singings, she didn’t think she should get her hopes up about marriage, either.
***
Joshua straightened and slipped out of sight as the board meeting broke up. He had missed seeing the spunky Annie, but he acknowledged that she couldn’t exactly act that way in front of the school board. Not with her job on the line.
He went out the front door and walked around the haus. Out back, he saw her heading, alone, toward her buggy. She was slumped, as if she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. If only he could help her bear the burden.
“Annie.”
She snapped straight before she turned around. “What?”
Joshua skirted another couple headed toward their buggy. He wanted to ask her to take a walk, or maybe offer to ride with her. But, with the board members still sitting inside and the parents taking their leave, that probably wasn’t such a good idea. For now.
Instead, he pointed back to the south pasture where he’d worked—a little, at least—earlier that morning. He lowered his voice. “I’ll be walking back there.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Enjoy yourself.”
Ah, there was a little bit of her spunk in that comment. Not much, but some.
He wasn’t sure if she’d gotten the point. But she would. Eventually. “Ach, I will.” He turned away as she clambered into her buggy.
“Giddyap,” he heard her say to the horse.
It took longer to travel the roads by buggy than to walk across the fields to the Beilers’, so Joshua beat her home. He waited outside the barn for her.
When she finally pulled up, he grinned. “Would have been faster to walk.”
Her eyes widened with surprise for just a second. Then, she nodded listlessly. With her slouched shoulders, red, puffy eyes, and pouty frown, she looked like a whipped puppy. She must have cried all the way home. Sympathy flooded through him, but he reminded himself that Luke should be the one to comfort her, since he was her intended.
However, Luke wasn’t around. He hadn’t shown up to support Annie at the school board meeting. Joshua took hold of the horse’s bridle and stepped nearer. “Let me help you. Are you free for a walk?” Maybe he could cheer her up.
Annie hesitated. Nodded. Then shook her head.
He quirked his eyebrows. “Which is it?”
“I shouldn’t. Because….”
He could fill in the blank. Her reputation as a teacher was at stake. Had Amish teachers always had to toe such a straight and narrow line? It seemed that everything she did or said opened her life up to scrutiny. Not to mention, his place in the community would be at risk if his hosts caught him with Luke’s girl. But it would soon be dusk—dark enough that no one would recognize them. “We could sit on the back porch.”
She climbed out of the buggy, rubbing her forehead as if she had a headache. “Are you here to gloat, Joshua? My days as a schoolteacher are obviously numbered. I can accept that, if it’s God’s will.”
“Gloating would be unkind.” And unnecessary. Most of the faults they’d found with her had been so petty. He rubbed the mare’s nose, and the mare nuzzled him in return, maybe looking for a sugar cube or a carrot. His horse back home always did that. She was especially fond of fruit. So much so that he’d named her Jonagold, after a kind of apple his friend Jacob raised in his family’s orchard. “What’s your horse’s name?”
“Penny.”
He cocked his head. The horse wasn’t even remotely close to the color of copper.
Annie smiled fleetingly. “My friend Becky named her. It was the name of the horse in one of the books she read, and she thought it was nice. Since I was having trouble thinking of anything better, I used it. She named her own horse Shakespeare.”
“Do you want Penny in the barn or in the pasture?”
Annie frowned. “In the stable.”
“I’ll take care of her, then.”
“Danki.” Annie took a couple of steps away, then stopped. “Do you want something to drink?”
He shrugged. “Jah. Sounds gut.”
She nodded and headed toward the haus, her brown dress swaying.
I wonder what she looks like in blue, he mused. The traditional wedding color. He watched her for another moment, thoughts whirling, then looked down.
Chapter 3
Annie washed her face, hoping to remove all traces of her tears. Frowning at her reflection in the tiny mirror that hung on the bathroom wall, she tucked a loose lock of brown hair back inside the gauzy white fabric of her prayer kapp. For the first time, she wished she had another color to wear, something other than dull, boring brown. But, when Luke left, the life had gone out of her. She dressed to reflect the way she felt, like a plain, boring old house wren. Brown and drab.
The same as her life.
When she’d first met Joshua, she’d wanted him to notice her. She still did. But men like him didn’t go for plain, brown girls from Seymour.
That didn’t keep her from wishing she had a pretty, vibrantly colored dress—maroon, maybe, or lavender or green. Something, anything, to keep Joshua’s attention on her, instead of on the other girls. Maybe she could borrow a dress from her sister, Cathy. After all, she’d given Cathy all of her old clothes. As quickly as the thought had come, though, Annie dismissed it. She wouldn’t succumb to vanity for the purpose of impressing Joshua. Not that it would work. She could change her exterior as much as she wanted; on the inside, she would still be the same old Annie. Nobody interesting. Nobody worth staying around for.
And, apparently, nobody worth keeping on as teacher.
Tears burned her eyes.
She wiped them away, then washed her hands and face again, before going to the kitchen. Joshua would wonder what was keeping her. After all, how long did it take to get two drinks?
***
After Joshua finished brushing Penny down, he set the horse’s brush on the shelf. Light footsteps sounded behind him, and he turned to see Annie approaching him. He pulled the gate shut and stepped out to meet her, wiping his hands on his pant legs.
She handed him a clear plastic bottle filled with water. One of those fancy filtered waters Englisch folk drank.
“It’s spring water, but not store-bought,” she explained, answering his unspoken question. “We refilled some bottles to keep in the refrigerator.”
She pointed toward the woods. “We have a spring. Want to see?”
He glanced up at the sky. It was still plenty light enough, though pretty shades of blue, purple, pink, and red painted the horizon. “Jah, that’d be great.”
Annie led the way to a rocky, uneven trail on the east side of their land. She started down into the woods a short way and then stopped. “Do you hear it?”
He listened closely. Jah, he could just make out the faint trickle of water. “Jah.” He would have missed it if she hadn’t said something.
A few minutes later, they pushed through some undergrowth and came out on a large boulder. “Right down there.”
He looked down. Below them was a small pool formed by water bubbling out of some rocks.
“There’s an easier way to get there, especially if we’re filling the bottles. But this is the most scenic way. I like to kum here to be alone.” Insecurity and embarrassment flashed across her face. Her cheeks reddened, and she dipped her head.
Joshua moistened his lips and stuck his free hand into his pocket to keep from touching her. Should he tell her he was flattered to be taken to her special spot? Or just let it go? He bent to set the bottle down and pick up a twig, then sat down on the smooth edge of the rock, his feet dangling over the side. It was still a good six-foot drop to the water. “How deep is it?”
“I don’t know.” Annie sat down beside him. Well, almost beside him. A large person easily could have occupied the space between them, with room to spare. “I’ve never gotten in. Everyone in my family comes here to fill the bottles, but they never get in the water or venture up to this boulder. I don’t even know if they can see me up here. Unless I’m sitting like this, I guess.”
“Do you kum here often?”
Her color deepened. “When I don’t want to be around anyone.”
He ached to put an arm around her and hug her. To assure her that everything would be all right. Surely, she wouldn’t lose her job over a field trip. But then again, how many Amish kids could say they’d visited a Civil War battlefield? He certainly couldn’t. And he’d grown up in Pennsylvania, home to many battlefields, some dating back to the Revolutionary and French and Indian wars. He would have liked to have seen them. “So, Annie. This field trip?” He looked down at the clear water bubbling out of the rocks below. “You went to a battlefield, right? Would you take me?”
***
Annie’s breath caught with a loud gasp. “What did you say?”
He shrugged, still studying the water below. “It just sounds like something I’d like to see.”
“Really?” The shadows from the trees cast his face in darkness. She glanced at the sky, noticing that the colors had faded to dusk. It’d be dark soon. She scooted back and stood up. “If you’re making fun of me, Joshua Esh….”
He stood, as well. “I’m not.” He stepped closer but stopped before he entered her personal space. “Seriously, I would love to go. I’ve never seen a battleground. What are you doing Saturday?”
She should refuse. But then, he wasn’t asking to court her. He was asking only for her to be his tour guide.
He ought to be able to manage a self-guided tour just fine.
“We’d go as friends, Annie.”
They were hardly friends. He must have mistaken her silence as an indication that she wasn’t interested in him. Either that or he wanted to emphasize his lack of interest in her. Most likely the latter.
“Nein promises, nein commitment. Just friends, for a day, jah?” He spread his arms out and shrugged.
Friends for a day? Then, they’d go back to being…what? Casual acquaintances who virtually ignored each other? Moments ticked by while she considered his proposal.
“Can’t you handle that?” There was a touch of pique in his question.
She still couldn’t see his expression in the shadows. After a moment, he sighed and moved away.
“Okay, never mind,” he murmured. “I should probably get back.” He pushed through the undergrowth and started to walk off into the darkness.
“Wait.” She shoved her way through the bushes and ran after him. “I’ll go.” Because they had no future, and this would be her one opportunity to be near him.
And maybe they’d become friends. Real friends. Instead of his simply being the object of her unrequited affections.
Not expecting him to stop, she ran into him, and her hands came up against his chest. She heard his breath catch. When had he turned? She fingered the edge of his suspenders, her heart racing. His hands came out to steady her. For a second, they rested on her upper arms, and then he released her and moved away. Nothing improper about it at all. But the too-brief contact left her tingling, especially her arms, where his warmth lingered.
“Gut,” he said quietly. “Danki.” He didn’t apologize for his touch.
She didn’t know whether to apologize for hers or not, though it had been far more inappropriate. “Ach, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to run into you.”
“Quite all right. I won’t tell.” There was a hint of amusement in his voice. “I’ll pray that you’ll be able to keep your job, Annie.”
“Danki.” She paused at the edge of the woods and watched him move through the darkness toward the fields separating their homes. They’d left their water bottles on the boulder. She’d run back and get them, after she’d watched him go.
He paused and turned around, surveying her in silence for a moment. Then, he raised his hand in a brief wave. “See you Saturday, if not before.”
“Saturday,” she whispered. She couldn’t wait for the weekend.
Just then, her excitement turned to a shade of dread. If they were spotted together on an outing, wouldn’t that be a definite death knell for her job?
Chapter 4
Despite the late hour, the school board members were still in a heated discussion when Joshua came in to the meeting. He stopped to listen for a few minutes but wasn’t sure which direction they were leaning. They seemed to be split equally. Some of them appeared to think Annie was the best choice to teach their children, despite her transgressions, while others favored asking Bishop Sol’s granddaughter Ruth to teach, instead. Joshua wished he could voice his opinion, but since he had no children, much less school-age ones, he didn’t know how Annie performed in the classroom. Nein, he knew only her caring spirit, which he’d first witnessed when he’d seen her comfort a child who had fallen and skinned his knee. He also knew how intently the children listened when she read them stories on church Sundays. And he knew Ruth King to be a silly, boy-crazy girl who giggled all the time.
As quietly as he could, he tiptoed up the stairs and slipped into the bedroom he shared with Luke and one of his brothers, Simon, and turned on the gas light. The room was empty—a blessing, since he wanted to read the latest letter from his parents without any distractions, away from the annoying presence of Luke and Simon. The younger buwe had gone to bed in their room, and he didn’t know where either Luke or Simon had disappeared to after dinner. Truthfully, he didn’t care.
He slid open a drawer and reached underneath his socks, pulling out the letter, which he’d received that day. He’d started to read it earlier, but Luke had come around, giving orders that he expected Joshua to obey right away. Joshua hated taking orders from his host’s prodigal son, but didn’t know what else to do. The son would be favored over the transplant. Henry Schwartz had made that more than clear from the beginning. “Nein transplant will be working in my business,” he’d said.
Joshua walked over to the narrow cot and sank down onto the thin canvas, the metal bars biting into the backs of his legs. A wave of homesickness washed over him as he pulled the lined white paper out of the envelope, opened the tri-folded letter, and saw Mamm’s familiar scrawl. He could almost smell the maple scent he associated with home. His mouth watered, remembering the taste of homemade maple syrup on his tongue. He loved every step of the sugar mapling proces
s and longed to participate in it this year.
After he’d satisfied his wanderlust, he’d return home to Pennsylvania. Well, maybe he wouldn’t even wait until then. His parents and he had agreed that he’d return before sugar season, in late February. As the only son—the only child—he was set to take over the family business and all of the sugar maple trees. But he’d wanted to see the world first, from Amish community to Amish community. He’d gone to Alaska with a bunch of Amish scouts, looking for land—an experience he’d relished, but the consensus had been that Alaska wouldn’t be a good place for the Amish to settle. Disappointing, really. Now, he was in Missouri. He’d go home, as planned, before the start of sugar season, when they would harvest the sap from the trees.
