The Teacher's Bride

by Kathleen Fuller

  Selah nodded, but she didn’t say anything. In fact, she looked past Ruby’s shoulder as if her attention had been suddenly drawn elsewhere.

  “Welcome to Birch Creek,” Martha said. “How long will you be visiting here?”

  Ruby glanced at Selah, who was still looking past her. Or was it through her? Either way, Ruby thought she was being a little rude. “I’m not sure,” she said, turning to Martha, who, unlike Selah, was paying attention to their conversation.

  “Will you be here next week?”

  Ruby nodded. “I plan to be.”

  “Gut. You’ll be here for the singing.”

  A grin broke out on Ruby’s face. There was no better place to meet an eligible bachelor than at a singing. She’d made the right decision to come to Birch Creek after all. “That sounds nice.” She tried not to sound too excited. The last thing she wanted was for Martha or anyone else to find out what she was up to. “I’m looking forward to meeting everyone.”

  “I should warn you, though,” Martha said, “the group is a bit unbalanced.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She means we’re the only single women here.” Selah tilted her head and looked at her. “Now there’s you, obviously.”

  Ruby was too intrigued to be bothered by Selah’s curt response, not to mention her assumption that she wasn’t taken. “The men outnumber the women?”

  Martha nodded. “By a lot. Let’s see, there’s Seth and Ira Yoder, the bishop’s sohns. Then the Bontrager boys—Devon, Zeb and Zeke, who are twins, and Owen, but he’s only seventeen.”

  If Ruby had been alone, she would have done a cartwheel. She’d hit the bachelor jackpot—if she was interested in jackpots, of course. Which she wasn’t. No gambling allowed.

  “You forgot mei bruder, Christian,” Selah said. “I mean Chris” She gestured to a buggy across the yard. “He’s standing by himself, as usual.”

  Ruby turned and saw the man she had bumped into earlier. He was alone, his arms at his sides, looking as blank as ever. Christian. That name suited him better.

  “He’ll be at the singing,” Selah said.

  Martha looked surprised. “He will? He’s never come to any gatherings before.”

  Selah shrugged. “I guess he’s decided to show his friendly side. I’m sure it’s in there somewhere.”

  The women chuckled as Ruby glanced at Chris again. He looked a little forlorn standing off by himself. Then again, he was somewhat odd. Maybe he liked being alone.

  She turned to Selah and Martha, and she couldn’t help but size them up. Martha smiled, and Ruby fought a tiny bit of jealousy. She was very pretty with a perfect figure, and the green of her dress complemented her fair skin and blond hair. Selah was lovely, too, but in a different way. Her eyes were the same blue as Chris’s, although her hair was a lighter brown than his. They both had those straight eyebrows, but while Chris’s seemed not to express any emotion, Selah’s resembled a scowl.

  Despite that, Ruby had no doubt the young men in the community were interested in her, and in Martha too. But she didn’t see that as a problem. With the ratio of men to women, the odds were in her favor. She would focus on that instead of what she lacked in beauty and grace. Still, it would be good to know a little bit about her competition. “Are either of you seeing anyone?” she blurted.

  Selah looked surprised at the question. “That’s rather personal.”

  “I’m sorry.” She needed to remember to think before she spoke. That was part of the new Ruby too. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have asked that.”

  “It’s okay,” Martha said. “I have a feeling we’ll be gut friends soon anyway.” She smiled. “To answer yer question, nee, I’m not seeing anyone.”

  “I should check on Chris.” Selah abruptly shot past Ruby and headed toward her brother.

  Ruby cringed. She hadn’t meant to put off Selah. “She’s annoyed with me.”

  Martha shook her head. “I don’t think so. But she is private. Both of the Ropps are.” She leaned forward. “They’re also a little strange,” she said in a low voice. “Not in a bad way. Just . . . different.”

  “Oh.” She understood different. She’d been different her whole life. When she was little she was too noisy and busy. When she was a teenager she was too clumsy and inattentive. As a young adult she was too friendly and too excitable. She was always too much.

  But she could change. She could be a proper woman, a proper wife, and a proper mother. And she would prove it not only to Timothy, but to everyone. Most of all, she would prove it to herself.

  Christian stood by the buggy, surveying the different small groups that always broke off and met together after the service. He found it fascinating that no matter how large a group was, it always self-divided mostly according to age and gender. Some of that was the Amish way, but he’d noticed this tendency even in English groups.

  His gaze landed on his sister and Martha. The two of them had become friends, which Christian might be able to use to his advantage. He’d never want to do anything to cause a problem for Selah, but he might be able to convince her to mention him to Martha as a possible marriage prospect.

  Then he saw that woman—Ruby, he thought she’d said— flounce over to them. She was a bundle of energy, and he had observed how she’d tried to sit still during the church service. Rather immature, in his estimation. Since she was just visiting the community, he dismissed her as a possible spouse, although she was decent looking. Her hair was a typical light brown, and he had noted her vivid blue-gray eyes.

  Which left him with Martha. A nice young woman, but as of right now he didn’t have any feelings for her. Not that it mattered, since feelings were immaterial. Marriage needed to be based on mutual respect, not love. If the emotion came later, that would be acceptable, but it wasn’t a prerequisite to securing a date or pursuing a relationship.

  Selah came toward him, a frown on her face. “It wouldn’t hurt for you to mix and mingle with people, Christian.”

  He’d intended to, but then he got caught up in his marriage thoughts. “I will,” he said, although everyone was dispersing now. No group lunch had been planned for this afternoon, and families were returning to their own homes. “After the next service.”

  “Sure you will.” She rolled her eyes and faced Martha and Ruby. “I heard you met our visitor.”

  “Our?”

  “Ours as in the community, Christian. You know, the one you’re a part of?”

  “You seem quite testy this morning, Selah. I would think a sermon as fine as the one Freemont gave would have encouraged you.”

  She lolled her head at him, gave him an annoyed look, and then looked back at Ruby and Martha.

  “I met Ruby. She seems like a nice woman,” he said.

  “Oh? She’s a little nosy, though.”

  For some reason that didn’t surprise him. “How is Martha today?” He had little interest in Ruby, and he needed to turn his attention to his possible future bride.

  “Why don’t you geh ask her yerself?”

  His palms suddenly and annoyingly grew damp. Nerves. He had them every time he thought about approaching Martha, which was part of the reason he’d hung back after the service. He’d had several opportunities to speak with her, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. “She’s leaving,” he said, relieved that she was walking toward her family and thus giving him a reprieve. “I’ll have to speak with her another time.”

  “Right.”

  Her response jabbed at him, as if she were treating him like her personal pincushion. “Sarcasm doesn’t suit you.”

  “And I never thought you’d be such a chicken.”

  “I’m not a chicken. And if you’re trying to bait me into an argument, you won’t succeed.”

  “I’m well aware of that, Iceman.”

  He detested that nickname, which had been given to him when he was in elementary school. Selah was the only one who continued to call him that, and even though he told her in no u
ncertain terms that he disliked it, she didn’t hesitate to use it when she was frustrated with him. She’d used it a lot lately.

  “I’m ready to geh.” Selah got inside their buggy.

  Christian started to turn, catching a last glimpse of Ruby. She picked up a dandelion and blew. White fuzz floated in the air. Such a childish gesture from a grown woman. He unhitched their horse and joined his sister in the buggy.

  The ride home from the Beilers’ wasn’t too long, but that didn’t keep the silence between him and Selah from feeling strained. He should ask what was bothering her. Then again, she might just snap at him. Considering he was her older brother, that would be disrespectful. It would be easier if he minded his own business. But when he glanced at her and saw the shadowy frown on her face, he couldn’t stay quiet. “Is something wrong, Selah?”

  “Nee.”

  But the heavy sigh she heaved told him differently. “Clearly you’re dodging the question.”

  “Clearly it’s none of yer business.”

  And that was why he didn’t get involved. He gripped the reins, telling himself she was in one of her moods and he shouldn’t take it personally. But a part of him did, and like always, he shut down that part of himself.

  They didn’t speak for the rest of the ride home. Christian wasn’t too worried. As a young woman Selah was prone to up-and-down moods, per the psychology books he’d read last year. Hormonal changes were a part of that too. He would leave her to her pouting and scowling, and perhaps she would be friendlier later today.

  Besides, he had other things to focus on. He wouldn’t work today, but that didn’t keep him from thinking about his students— especially Malachi. Perhaps the boy had a point about the work being boring, considering his intelligence. This week he would develop some assessments for his students to see if they were being educationally stimulated. He’d been bored in school, but never bored with learning. Still, procedures had to be followed in the classroom, and not completing homework had to be addressed.

  Then there was Martha. He had to approach her sometime. Obviously, Selah wouldn’t assist him. Surely there was a way to get over these paralyzing nerves. He needed to conquer them, and soon. He had no reason to delay marriage—and he didn’t intend to.

  “What are yer plans for this week, Ruby?” Patience set a plate of sausage links on the table.

  “Helping you,” Ruby said as she poured milk for her nephews. She spilled a little bit on the table and wiped it up with the bottom of her apron. She secured the tops of their sippy cups and put the milk back in the gas-powered fridge.

  “I do have some sewing to catch up on.” Patience sat down just as Timothy walked into the kitchen. He’d been outside doing the morning chores.

  “I can watch the kinner for you while you sew.” Ruby put her hands in her lap and waited for her brother to wash his hands. The toe of her shoe tapped on the floor. When she heard it, she froze. Sit still, remember?

  Timothy sat down, and after a silent prayer of thanks, the family started eating breakfast. “The cows were eager to get out in the pasture this morning,” Timothy said as he buttered a slice of toasted bread.

  “Do you need any help with them?” Ruby asked.

  Timothy paused, the bread halfway to his mouth. “Uh, nee. I’ve got everything under control.”

  “I’m sure you have some chores I can do after I help Patience.”

  He shook his head and crammed the toast into his mouth.

  Patience put a few pieces of oat cereal on Luke’s high chair tray. “Timothy, you could use a little help. I’m sure Ruby can help you with the hay bales.”

  Ruby and Timothy looked at each other. “You didn’t tell her about the time I sent all the bales tumbling out of the loft?” Ruby asked.

  He shook his head. “I forgot about that one.”

  “How could you forget?”

  “Because so many other accidents stick out in mei mind. Like when you decided to give the cat a bath.”

  “Oh.” She grew serious. “That didn’t turn out the way I expected.”

  “Tobias, drink yer milk,” Patience said. She turned to Ruby. “What happened?”

  “What didn’t happen?” Timothy picked up his fork and pointed at her with it. “She decided the cat needed to smell better.”

  “I was only six,” Ruby said.

  “So she took the cat—who was about the size of a fox, mind you—and stuck him in the kitchen sink.”

  Ruby looked down at her plate. “He didn’t like that too much.”

  Luke started to bang on the table, so Patience gave him a few more Cheerios. Tobias was busy spreading his scrambled eggs on his plate.

  “He didn’t like it at all.” Timothy started to laugh. “He was sopping wet and leapt out of the sink onto the counter. Mamm had just finished washing the breakfast dishes, and they were drying on a towel. They scattered onto the floor, and Ruby tried to catch him by grabbing his tail. He let out a screech that would curl yer hair, and then he streaked through the living room, where Daed was cleaning his boots in front of the fireplace.”

  “With black shoe polish,” Ruby said, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “Oh nee.” Patience lips twitched.

  “This wet, scared cat leaps into Daed’s lap and spills the black shoe polish all over the stone hearth.”

  Ruby shrank back in her chair. “Remember, I was six,” she squeaked.

  “He ran through the shoe polish, and then he dashed all over the furniture like his tail was on fire.” Timothy guffawed. “Daed, Mamm, and I were all chasing him.”

  Patience laughed. “What were you doing while all this was happening, Ruby?”

  “Crying in the corner.”

  Timothy stopped laughing. “That’s right. You were. It wasn’t that bad, Ruby.”

  “I broke Mamm’s favorite dish.”

  “The cat broke Mamm’s dish,” he said gently.

  “But it was mei fault.” Even now the guilt over the destroyed dish hit her as if it had happened an hour ago. Mamm had made Daed a special breakfast for his birthday, and she had served the blueberry pancakes on that dish. Since it was a family heirloom, she used it only on special occasions.

  “You were only six.” Timothy patted her hand. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought up that story.”

  “Nee, nee. It’s funny looking back on it now.” Except that it wasn’t. Not to her.

  “What happened to the cat?” Patience asked.

  “He pulled the curtains off the window before Timothy caught him.”

  “Then I did have to give him a bath because he was covered in shoe polish.”

  Ruby nodded. “And I helped Mamm clean the furniture.” She sighed. “Fortunately, the polish didn’t stain too badly.”

  “Well, you’re not six anymore, and Timothy never polishes his boots.” Patience smiled. “No worries about that happening here.”

  “Besides,” Timothy added, “we don’t have a cat.”

  “Kitty?” Tobias said, looking up from his eggs. “Can we have a kitty?”

  The three adults chuckled, and Ruby felt a little better. Timothy could tell many stories about her, and the cat story wasn’t even the worst one. Use yer brain, Ruby. How many times had she heard that? Well, now she was going to. There would be no more disasters, or broken heirlooms, or complete bedlam surrounding her. But she was glad her brother didn’t have a cat.

  Later, when Timothy went out to speak to a potential milk buyer and Patience brought out her sewing, Ruby took her nephews outside. She took the cover off the sandbox and played with them for the rest of the morning, forgetting about the past and even forgetting about her quest to get married. She held on to Luke to make sure he didn’t put sand in his mouth while she helped Tobias scoop sand into a small plastic bucket with a tiny, bright-red shovel.

  While Tobias played, she glanced around her brother’s dairy farm. He had done well for himself, and she was happy for him. One day she hoped to have the same
kind of life—peaceful and happy. That was possible, wasn’t it?

  CHAPTER 3

  The week passed quickly for Ruby. She helped Patience with the chores and spent time with her nephews. She twice offered to help Timothy milk the cows, but he refused. She thought he looked more tired than he should at the supper table after spending the day working on the farm. But she couldn’t force her brother to let her help, and while she was a little frustrated about that, she also understood. She didn’t exactly have the best history when it came to helping out in barns.

  On Saturday she accompanied Patience on her midwife visits. First, they stopped to see Sadie Troyer, who was expecting her first child. Ruby observed Patience as she asked a series of questions about how Sadie was feeling, if she felt the baby kick, and if she was eating well. Sadie was five months along, Ruby found out, and a little nervous about the pregnancy.

  “I just don’t want anything to happen,” Sadie said, touching her slightly rounded abdomen. “Aden tells me not to worry, and I know I shouldn’t.” She lowered her voice. “But sometimes I can’t help it.”

  Patience took her hand. Ruby knew the women were good friends. “It’s normal to feel like this with the first boppli” Patience said. “Sometimes the second, and the third . . .” She smiled. “But Aden’s right. You don’t need to worry. It’s not gut for you or the boppli. When you feel anxious, the best thing you can do is pray. If you can take a walk and pray—or do something else physical while you’re praying—that’s even better. And, of course, you can always come and talk to me. You’re in gut hands, Sadie.”

  Sadie nodded, her expression more relaxed. “I know. Danki, Patience. I’m glad you’re with me through all this.”

  After they left Sadie’s, they went to Irene Troyer’s. Irene was married to Aden’s brother, Sol. They spent a shorter amount of time there since this was Irene’s second child. She was six months along, and her one-year-old son, Solomon Jr, was sleeping in a playpen in the living room.

  “Could I speak to you privately?” Irene asked, glancing at Ruby.