The Teacher's Bride

by Kathleen Fuller

  “Shouldn’t the object of yer affections be aware of yer intent?”

  “Shouldn’t yers?”

  She had him there. “She will, if I get an opportunity to talk to her.”

  “Not if, Chris. When.” She smiled. “Like I said, you have to be yerself.”

  “And you should be yerself.” He was starting to warm up to the idea of their mutually helping each other. It would alleviate the problem of showing his appreciation for her willingness to assist him. “What would it hurt for me to give you a little insight to the male psyche?”

  “You’re not exactly a common example.”

  He would take that as a compliment. “I mean when it comes to conversation. I could teach you how to be yerself around men while you teach me how to be myself around Martha.”

  She paused, averting her gaze again. “You don’t think I’m hopeless?”

  Even though she wasn’t looking directly at him, he could see the sadness in her eyes. This subject was clearly painful for her, much more so than for him. His lack of finesse around Martha was an annoyance, but Ruby’s issue with her own awkwardness seemed to cut deep, which brought out his sympathy. “Nee,” he said, still speaking in Dietsch. “I don’t think you’re hopeless. Why do you?”

  She chewed on the tip of the blade of grass. He doubted she realized she was even doing it. “It’s been said once or twice.”

  “That doesn’t mean it’s true. Or that you have to believe it.” He reached over and took the grass from her hand. “You just pointed out that I can act myself around you. You’re doing the same with me.”

  “Are you saying we should get married?”

  “Us?” He chuckled and shook his head. “We’re ill suited, don’t you think?”

  She nodded, a twinkle of good humor back in her eyes. “I agree.”

  He was glad to see her resuming her usual joviality. “But I do think there’s a degree of friendship between us. And friends do help each other when required.”

  “Do you have any friends here?”

  He thought about two of the men he grew up with back home. They would go fishing occasionally after they graduated from school, and that had always satisfied his friendly companionship needs. Otherwise, he was content to pursue his interests on his own. Yet somehow admitting that to Ruby seemed a bit pathetic. “Not in Birch Creek. I’ve been busy establishing myself with the school and getting a place for Selah and me to live. There’s been little time to cultivate friendships.”

  She nodded, seemingly accepting his explanation. After a moment she said, “Okay. We can teach each other.” She held out her hand and they shook on it. Then she lay back down.

  He joined her. There was something tranquil about his back against the cool grass while he looked up at the majestic tree’s branches and leaves. After a few moments of silence, he decided to get the ball rolling, so to speak. “Are you interested in anyone at the moment?”

  She hesitated before answering. “Seth Yoder might be a possibility.”

  He didn’t know Seth very well, but from what he’d observed, the Yoders were a fine family. He’d been spiritually challenged by some of Freemont’s sermons, which he considered a mark of a good preacher. “A gut choice.”

  “I baked him a cake,” she said, her speech speeding up.

  “Did he like it?” A small flock of blackbirds flew above them.

  “I don’t know. I told him I made it for his familye. Then he accidentally knocked the door into mei nose, and then I saw the blood and passed out. His mother took care of me and Freemont took me home.” She sighed. “See? I am a disaster.”

  Her mention of her nose made him realize he hadn’t noticed it today. The dark coloration had faded, but it was still there. He was surprised it hadn’t caught his attention. “More like a victim of unfortunate happenings,” he said, trying to encourage her. “It wasn’t yer fault he hit you with the door.”

  “It wasn’t really his, either. What happened was accidental.” She brushed a fly from her face. “That doesn’t make me feel much better, though.”

  “Why didn’t you tell Seth the cake was for him?”

  “Because I was nervous.” She grimaced and stared up at the tree. “That’s why I need help.”

  Christian pondered that for a few moments. “You should bake him another,” he said, deciding that her initial idea, while flawed in execution, was a good one.

  “Right. I should show up at his door with another cake. That wouldn’t be obvious at all.”

  “What about a pie, then? If you can bake a cake, you can bake a pie.”

  She sat up and gaped at him. “I’m having second thoughts about yer manly insight. Are you sure you can help me?”

  He stared up at the branches and nodded. “I’ll make a valiant attempt.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Christian spent the rest of Saturday afternoon pondering his lesson with Ruby. Despite her unorthodox manner, he had learned a few things. First, if he was able to be himself with a woman he wasn’t romantically interested in, then there was hope that he could learn to be himself with Martha. Martha was sweet, pretty, kind, and generally not intimidating. With renewed confidence he decided to attend the next singing— whenever that would be—and ask to drive her home afterward.

  The second thing he learned, which was more surprising, was that he could help Ruby the same way she was helping him. They had decided to continue their lessons, setting up another session for this upcoming Saturday, and he was already making plans. How could he help Ruby connect with Seth? He took the facts into consideration, writing them in the same notebook he had taken to the tree for his first lesson with Ruby.

  1.Ruby and Seth are barely acquaintances.

  2.Ruby has little hope that things will turn out in her favor.

  3.Ruby has been foiled by hiccups and a screen door.

  He regarded the list and then crossed out number two. He had high hopes for Ruby once she could get past her own barriers. Perhaps he could be a mediator between them, but he had to be stealthy about it. Walking up to Seth and informing him of Ruby’s interest wouldn’t work. Christian should probably get to know Seth at least a little. That would require him to extend the hand of friendship. Normally he didn’t pursue such things, but in this case the result would be worth it.

  He hoped. How unfortunate it would be to go to all this effort, only for Ruby and Seth to discover they were ill suited for each other—like Christian and Ruby were.

  He attended church the next morning, intent on speaking with Seth after the service. Seth’s sister Karen and her husband, Adam, were hosting today, thus Christian expected him to linger afterward. But once they all exited the Chupps’ barn, Christian couldn’t find him. He did spy Ruby. She was near the barn and talking to Martha, who had her back to him. Ruby tilted her head in Martha’s direction, gesturing for him to join them. He shook his head. The idea of talking to Martha with a large group of people around them made him queasy. He wasn’t eager to humiliate himself further. Better to approach her another time.

  Ruby rolled her eyes and focused her attention back on Martha. Christian decided not to stay for the lunch meal and returned home. Selah hadn’t gone with him to church, claiming to have a headache, but he wondered if she was being truthful. He made a quick sandwich for himself, and after he finished eating it, he decided to pay Seth a visit.

  When Christian arrived at the Yoders’ and knocked on the door, Judah answered it. “Hi, Herr Ropp,” he said, looking surprised and then concerned. “Did I do something wrong?”

  Christian shook his head. “No. I’m here to see your brother Seth.”

  The young man blew out a breath of relief. “He went for a walk a little while ago. You’ll probably find him over by the pond near Jalon’s.”

  “And where is that?”

  “Not too far from here.” Judah gave him the directions, adding, “You can cut through our backyard to get there.”

  “I’d also have to pass through Jalon
’s yard, then.”

  “Ya, but he won’t care. We all geh to that pond all the time. I like to fish and ice skate on it.”

  “Must be a special place.”

  Judah nodded. “I think so. I’d geh with you, but . . .” He hung his head. “I’m not allowed.”

  Christian was mildly curious as to what Judah had done to merit the restriction, but he didn’t ask, and Judah didn’t volunteer the information. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Christian said.

  “Ya” Judah didn’t look too excited about the prospect.

  As Christian walked away, he wondered how he could convince the boys in the district to have some enthusiasm about their education. A tall order for sure, but he wasn’t giving up on the possibility. They didn’t have to embrace education with the verve Christian did, but he did want them to get to the point where they didn’t resent going to school.

  He walked through the Yoders’ backyard, musing on the matter, and then crossed through Jalon’s backyard. No one was outside. He approached the copse of trees Judah said Christian would have to walk through to get to the pond.

  A strong breeze kicked up, and he heard a banging sound. He turned to the right and saw movement. Then he heard the banging sound again. Intrigued, he walked toward the source of the sound and found a small, decrepit shed that was well hidden.

  Another gust of wind kicked up, and the door banged open. Seth came out and grabbed the door.

  “Seth,” Christian said, walking toward him. “Judah said you were at the pond.”

  Seth’s eyes widened, obviously surprised to see Christian. No, surprised wasn’t quite right. Stunned was more accurate. “I . . . uh, I was there earlier,” he said, closing the door behind him and standing in front of it, almost as if he were deliberately blocking the entrance.

  Christian looked at the shanty, which could use an improvement or two. Judah hadn’t mentioned a shed.

  “You were looking for me?” Seth said.

  “Yes.” He supposed here would be as good a place as any to converse. He pulled his notebook and pencil out of his pocket. “It’s been brought to my attention that I should get to know the people in this district better.”

  Seth’s stunned expression turned to confusion. “What do you mean?”

  “You and I are in the same age cohort. It only makes sense that we would become friends.” He positioned his pencil above his pad, ready to take notes about any pertinent information he could pass on to Ruby. “Your occupation is farming. Do you enjoy any recreational pursuits?”

  “Recreational pursuits?”

  “Hobbies.” Christian looked at him, noticing for the first time that his black pants were covered in sawdust. A clear yellow plastic handle, the type on the end of a screwdriver, poked out of his pants pocket.

  As if he realized what Christian was looking at, Seth quickly brushed off his pants and shoved his hand in his pocket, concealing the tool. “Don’t have much time for hobbies. Farming is hard work.”

  Christian wrote no hobbies on his pad. “What are your favorite foods, then?”

  Seth’s bewilderment turned to wariness. “What’s up with the notebook?”

  “This?” Perhaps taking notes wasn’t the wisest decision. He thrust the notebook and pen behind his back. “Nothing. Just, um, writing down a grocery list.”

  “In the middle of a conversation?”

  “I don’t want to forget the milk.” Christian grimaced. This was almost as bad as trying to talk to Martha. If he couldn’t strike up a normal conversation with Seth, he was beyond incompetent. “You missed some of the sawdust,” he said, trying to detour their dialogue into something innocuous. He pointed to Seth’s knee. “Right there.”

  Seth batted at it, and then he looked at Christian. “Danki,” he said, his voice tight. “Anything else?”

  Christian rocked back on his heels, unsure what to say next since he suspected Seth might be annoyed with him.

  “No?” Seth said. “Then if you’re finished with the interview, I’ll be going home now.”

  Christian nodded as Seth pushed past him. He glanced at the shed with a passing curiosity about what was inside. That disappeared as soon as he realized he’d not only failed to get any meaningful information for Ruby, but he also might have come across as a little peculiar to Seth. Oh well. He shrugged and headed back home. It wouldn’t be the first time someone considered him eccentric. He also saw no point in telling Ruby he’d even made this visit, and he hoped Seth wouldn’t either.

  Selah covered her pocket flashlight with her hand, muting the light as much as she could as she approached her house. It was past midnight, and the windows were completely dark. Selah knew Christian had gone to bed hours ago. Had he checked on her before then? No, because if he had, he would have seen that she was gone. The lights would still be on in the house and he’d be waiting for her. Not out of actual consideration, of course, but out of duty. Her brother had an abundance of that quality.

  She felt a blurred mix of relief and disappointment. She’d managed to sneak out again without getting caught, but a part of her wished her brother would care enough to make sure she was all right. She’d told him this morning that she had a headache and couldn’t go to church. He had accepted her explanation with his usual blank look.

  As usual, her feelings didn’t make sense. Nothing in her life made sense. She pulled the screen away from the basement window and climbed inside. She replaced the screen and shut the window, slipping off her shoes before she went upstairs. She didn’t have to be too quiet, since Christian could sleep through anything.

  Selah went into her room and turned on the battery-operated lamp on the side of her bed. She slipped out of her jeans and sweatshirt and put on a nightgown. She didn’t bother putting up her hair, which she had kept down all day, and she didn’t feel like taking off the makeup she’d applied before leaving the house. She tucked her English clothes into a suitcase at the bottom of her closet, turned off the lamp, and climbed into bed.

  She knew she couldn’t live like this anymore, having her foot in two worlds, not feeling like she belonged in either one. She’d have to make a decision . . . and she’d have to make it soon.

  CHAPTER 9

  The next morning Christian walked to the schoolhouse, his mind shifting from Ruby, Seth, and Martha to teaching and lessons. He always arrived well before the students, and today was no exception. An hour later, with little fanfare, the school day began.

  Christian handed out the morning’s work to the students, giving them a short review activity to ease them into the school day. Since his classroom was almost all male, he understood the need to capture their interest and keep it, especially after a weekend.

  As the students worked, he looked over his plans. He’d made a note last week to get Malachi’s feedback on his new assignments. Now would be an appropriate time to bring that up. “Malachi,” he said, glancing up from his desk. “Please come here.”

  Malachi didn’t pop out of his seat as he usually did. Instead he stayed put, his eyes flittering back and forth. Finally, he slunk out from behind his desk.

  Christian frowned as Malachi kept his head down, slowly approaching the front of the room. There was something off-kilter about his gait. Christian visually inspected him and noticed he was lopsided. One pocket of his pants was puffed out more than the other, and some lumpy objects seemed to be straining against the dark-blue denim fabric. In addition, an odd clattering noise accompanied each leg movement. The noise was loud enough to capture the other students’ attention.

  Christian folded his hands and placed them on top of the sixth-grade math teacher’s guide. “Malachi.”

  The boy’s eyes peered up at him. “Ya?”

  “I presume there’s something in your pocket. Am I correct?”

  He started to shake his head, but then changed it to a nod. “Ya. There is.”

  “Please explain.”

  Malachi’s head lifted, and his eyes were filled with remorse. “I
got marbles in mei pocket. But I promise I won’t play with them until recess. Double promise. I just needed a place to put them until then.”

  Christian wasn’t unsympathetic to Malachi’s eagerness to play with the marbles. However, the boy was violating school policy. “What are the rules about bringing items from home?”

  “I have to get permission from the teacher first.”

  “And did you get permission?”

  Malachi shook his head. “Nee.”

  Christian held out his hand. “The marbles, please. You’ll get them back at the end of the school day.”

  Malachi dug into his pocket, brought out a few loose, colorful marbles, and handed them to Christian.

  Christian opened the desk drawer and deposited the marbles, which rolled off a package of number two pencils. “You may go back to your seat now.” This had been enough of a distraction for the other students. He would discuss Malachi’s schoolwork with him later. Right now he had to get the students back on track.

  “That’s not all.” Malachi dug deeper into the pocket and pulled out another handful of marbles, handed them to Christian, and then stuck his hand in his pocket again. “I’ve got a few more.”

  How many marbles can one boy cram into his pocket? A lot, apparently. Christian held out his hand to collect the last of them.

  As Malachi handed them to Christian, they slipped out of his grip and scattered all over Christian’s desk. Several students snickered as the marbles clattered onto the floor. Emma Miller, who was a year younger than Malachi and also Martha’s cousin, got up and started to help Malachi pick them up.

  One of the marbles rolled past Nelson Bontrager, who bent down from his desk and flicked it away with his finger toward Judah Yoder. Judah then launched it toward Jesse Bontrager, who caught it in his hand.

  “Enough,” Christian said, his voice loud enough to capture their attention. “Jesse, the marble, please.”

  Jesse left his seat and handed Christian the marble.