“I won’t let you down,” she’d insisted. He only nodded in response, and she knew he had some reservations. She didn’t blame him since she’d had some herself, but she was going to make sure this job went well for her and the students.
“I wanted to get a head start,” she said, her smile hopeful. A man as dedicated to his job as Chris Ropp would understand that. “I’m ready and reporting for duty.”
He gave her a bleary-eyed look. His hair stood up on end, even more untamed than during their lesson on Saturday. He also needed a shave. He was wearing a T-shirt and jeans and looked nothing like a buttoned-up, stick-in-the-mud teacher. Standing this close to him, she realized he smelled nice—like fresh laundry hanging on the line.
“Come on in,” he said, his voice weary. He turned, his crutches thumping on the floor as he headed for the kitchen. “I’ll get the kaffee started.”
She eyed his crutches. He looked tired and unsteady on them. “Let me do it for you,” she said.
He glanced at her over his shoulder. “I can handle it,” he said, his tone sharp.
“Fine,” she muttered, following him into the kitchen.
Chris hobbled to the stove and picked up the percolator. The coffeepot dangled from his fingers as he gripped the crutch handles, and he nearly lost his balance taking the few steps to the sink.
Ruby took the pot from his hand. “You should sit down,” she said. “You don’t want to make yer injury worse.”
He nodded and hobbled to the table. She filled the pot with water, saw the coffee container near the sink, and put three scoops in the metal basket before she placed it back in the pot. She glanced at Chris as she set the percolator on the stove. He was hunched over in his chair, an unusual posture for him, and his face was twisted with pain. She turned on the gas burner and then went to him.
“Yer ankle must hurt a lot.”
He started to shake his head, but then stopped. “No use in lying,” he mumbled, switching to English. “It does hurt.”
“Did they tell you to prop it up?”
“Yes.”
“Then why aren’t you doing it?” She moved one of the kitchen chairs closer to him, lifted his leg, and gently put it on the chair. Then she stepped back and looked at the arrangement. “You need a pillow,” she decided.
“It’s fine like this, Ruby—”
“I’ll be right back.” She went to the living room, remembering that Chris’s couch had two small accent pillows on it. She picked up one, returned to the kitchen, and carefully lifted his leg and slid the pillow underneath his ankle. “Better?”
“Yes.” He leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes.
She glanced around the kitchen, wondering what to do next. It might be early, but it was close to breakfast time. “Where is Selah?”
“Sleeping in, I suppose.” He opened one eye. “I fell asleep as soon as I got home from the emergency room yesterday afternoon. I haven’t seen her since then.”
“Should I wake her?”
He shook his head, closing his eye again. “Let her sleep.”
“Then who’s going to make you breakfast?”
“I’m not really hungry.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll probably have some bread and peanut butter later.”
“That won’t do. You need yer strength.” She moved closer to him, and he must have sensed her nearness because he opened his eyes. They were rather handsome, too, now that she was seeing him this close. As she already knew, they were blue, but each one had a thin circle of light green around them so faint she hadn’t noticed them before. Kind of unusual . . . just like him. “I’ll make you something to eat.”
“Ruby—”
“I can cook, you know. Now, where’s the pantry?”
“I suppose any protest will fall on deaf ears?”
“You suppose correctly.”
He lifted his arm, pointing to a tall cabinet in the corner. “Over there. Since it’s just Selah and me here, it’s not very full.”
She walked over and opened the door. He was right about the pantry being close to empty. She did find a loaf of bread and the peanut butter, but he needed something more substantial. “Do you have any eggs?”
He pointed to a small cooler in another corner of the kitchen. “There might be some ham in there too.”
Ruby found what she needed, and a short time later she had whipped up ham, egg, and cheese sandwiches to go with the coffee. She sat down, closed her eyes, and prayed for her food. When she opened them Chris was looking at her. “What?” she asked, taking a sandwich and cutting it in half.
“I . . . I didn’t expect all this.”
“It’s just a little breakfast. Emphasis on little.” She took a bite.
“It’s adequate.” He sipped his coffee, looking a little more awake now. “More than adequate.”
Ruby smiled. As they continued to eat, she studied him. Now that he was more coherent, he was sitting straighter, at least the best he could considering he still had his leg propped on the chair. He cut his sandwich in half diagonally, and took small, even bites. She wasn’t surprised that even his eating patterns were precise.
As he took another sip of coffee, she blurted, “You don’t look like a Chris.”
His brow raised, and he set the mug down on the table. “Pardon?”
“Selah called you Christian when I first met her. Is that yer given name?”
“Yes.” He pushed away his plate with the half-eaten sandwich in front of him.
“Is something wrong with the food?” She wasn’t a great cook like her mother and Patience were, but she was decent. Besides, even she couldn’t ruin a breakfast sandwich.
Chris shook his head. “It’s fine. As I stated before, I’m not very hungry.”
“Are you still in pain?” At his slight nod she got up from the table and looked at his ankle. He was barefoot, and his pant leg was scrunched up. He had a half-cast of some kind on the back of his foot that didn’t look very comfortable. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come over so early.”
He motioned for her to sit back down. “It’s okay. I appreciate your enthusiasm for the job. I didn’t know they were planning to offer it to you.”
“They didn’t offer it, exactly.” She straightened her shoulders. “I volunteered.”
Surprise entered his eyes. “Have you taught school before?”
She shook her head. “But I’m willing to learn.”
He gave her a half-smile, although she could tell he was hurting.
Ruby leaned forward, concerned. “Did the doctor give you anything for yer pain?”
“Yes, but I prefer not to take pain medication.”
“For a smart mann, you’re making a dumb decision.”
His smile widened. “According to you, women don’t like perfect men.”
She started to nod, but she became distracted again, this time by his smile. He really was attractive, more than she realized the first time she saw him. She also appreciated that he hadn’t questioned her substitute teaching ability. Then again, he did have personal experience when it came to her tutoring methods.
Selah appeared, her long hair a wild mess, wearing a plain sweatshirt over a nightgown. Ruby didn’t think it was possible to look more disheveled than Chris, but Selah had accomplished it. She looked like she’d had a fight with her bedclothes—and the bedclothes had won.
Without looking at either Ruby or Chris, she yawned, took a mug from a cabinet, went to the stove, and poured coffee. She took a sip and then turned around and leaned against the counter, her eyes closed. When she opened them, her gaze seemed to finally take in the entire kitchen. Then her brow shot up as she focused on Ruby. “What are you doing here?” she said, frowning.
“She’s substituting for me at the school until I’m back on my feet.” Chris gestured to his leg resting on the chair. “Literally. She also made the coffee you’re consuming right now.”
“Oh.” She took another sip of the coffee and ya
wned again.
“There’s an extra breakfast sandwich.” Ruby had made three of them, in case Selah would want one later.
“I’m not hungry.” She topped off her coffee and left the room. Ruby could hear her footsteps going up the stairs.
She shot up from the table, angry. “She didn’t even ask you how you were feeling.” She grabbed her empty plate off the table.
“Neither one of us are early morning people, in case you hadn’t noticed. Although I do whatever necessary to make sure I arrive at the schoolhouse well before my students do.”
“That’s nee excuse.”
Chris sighed. “Selah’s . . . complicated.”
“She’s rude.” Ruby picked up Chris’s dish and took the plates to the sink. She searched beneath the sink for the dish soap, found it, squeezed some into the sink, and turned on the water. “She should have risen early and made yer breakfast this morning.”
“Then I wouldn’t have had one of your delicious sandwiches.”
Ruby turned around and looked at him, stunned by the compliment since Chris had difficulty giving them. He wobbled as he tried to get up from the chair. He shouldn’t be doing that alone. She hurried over to help. “Here,” she said, handing him his crutches. “And take it slowly. Do you need me to walk with you?”
“To the bathroom? Absolutely not.”
That made her laugh, which made him smile again. So he wasn’t as stuffy as she’d thought he was. Her laugh faded as she looked up at him and her gaze locked with his. Something happened inside her—a warm, fuzzy feeling that made her stomach seem to do a little backflip. That sounded terrible, but it felt nice. Very—
Selah came back into the room. “What are you trying to do, flood the kitchen?”
Ruby jumped away from Chris, who fell against the table, one crutch landing on the floor. “Ow!” he yelped.
Ruby turned from him to see Selah shutting off the tap.
Soapy, bubbly water overflowed from the sink and onto the floor. “Sorry!” Not again. This was worse than when she spilled the coffee, though, because this time she’d made a huge mess. Ruby grabbed a towel off the counter, crouched down, and started to sop water from the floor.
“Pay attention, next time,” Selah snapped.
“That’s enough, Selah!”
Ruby stopped her work and looked at Chris. He looked angry. Really angry.
“Ruby is a guest in this haus and you will treat her as such.” He gripped the handles of his crutches. “Geh get dressed. You’ve lollygagged long enough this morning.”
Selah’s stunned expression turned sheepish. She nodded and then left the room.
Normally Ruby could shrug off hurt feelings, but she was finding it difficult. Not only was she embarrassed by yet another mess she’d made, but she was also upset by Selah’s behavior toward her. She’d never been actively disliked before. People had been annoyed with her, even her friends. They’d had good reason to be at those times. But she was still well liked in her community, if not completely trusted not to make a mess of things. Yet Selah, whom she didn’t know well at all, acted like she couldn’t stand her.
“Don’t take her behavior to heart, Ruby.”
She rose from the floor and wrung the wet towel in the sink. “I’m not.” That was a lie, but she wasn’t about to admit she was letting his sister get to her.
“You asked me about my name earlier.”
Ruby turned and looked at him. He was still leaning on the crutches, still seemed in pain. He was also changing the subject, and she was glad to let him.
“I’ve wanted to be a teacher ever since I was in seventh grade. I loved school, loved learning, loved reading anything I could get my hands on. I was interested in every subject, and as I got older the idea of imparting knowledge to children appealed to me. However, that occupation didn’t appeal to my parents.”
Although the dishes still needed to be washed, she went to him and held out his chair. He sat down, and she sat down across from him.
“Like most fathers, mine wanted me to go into business with him.”
“What does he do?”
“He’s a butcher. Exceptionally skilled. He worked in a meatpackaging shop, but he also assisted other Amish with their butchering.” Chris looked away. “The first time I saw him work I vomited. The second time I fell unconscious.”
She nodded, sympathizing with him. “I have the same issue with blood.”
“Eventually I learned how to manage my gag reflex, and I could get through a butchering session without heaving. My father continually telling me to ‘be a man’ also had something to do with it. He insisted that only little boys ‘tossed their cookies.’ Boys and females.”
“He sounds a little mean.”
Chris shook his head. “He’s not. But he very much believes in the division of gender roles. There is men’s work, and then there is women’s work. Guess where teaching falls on his continuum.”
“But that’s not right. Some Amish teachers are male.”
“I know. When I was studying and training I met several. They were the ones who inspired me. They enjoyed what they did and found it fulfilling. I shadowed one of them, saw how he handled his classroom. From that point on I knew teaching was what God wanted me to do. I just couldn’t do it in my district.”
“Because of yer vatter?”
“Not only because of him, but because I knew the school board wouldn’t hire me.”
That didn’t make sense to Ruby. “Why not?”
“Because my father was on the school board.” He gave her a weak smile. “I refused to let that hinder me, and I searched for other teaching opportunities. That’s when I looked for other offers and heard about the one in Birch Creek.”
Ruby tilted her head. “This is all very interesting, Chris. But what does it all have to do with yer name?”
His cheeks slightly reddened, and she listened as he explained how Freemont had asked to call him Chris. “I wanted to impress him and the rest of the board, and I didn’t want to contradict something as simple as what the bishop preferred to call me. That’s why everyone calls me Chris.”
He looked at her. “I’m still not used to it.”
“You’d rather be called Christian?”
He nodded. “I’d rather not tell anyone that. I’ll get used to Chris, and it’s a little discomfiting to explain the story.”
“But not to me.”
His gaze met hers. “No . . . not to you.”
That little flip-floppy feeling in her stomach happened again. He’d trusted her with a secret, one he thought was embarrassing. Ruby could definitely top him when it came to humiliating occurrences, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that he found his secret hard to admit, but he trusted her. “Christian” she said with a smile. “You don’t have to worry. Yer secret’s safe with me.” She had one other question, but she was hesitant to ask it since she was rather liking this little moment between them—if it could be called that. But her curiosity won out. “Why is Selah here with you?”
He frowned. “I often wonder that myself. The night before I left for Birch Creek, she asked to come with me. Begged would be a more precise term, because I at first told her no. I didn’t understand why she would want to leave home and live in a district where she didn’t know anyone. She persisted, and finally, I gave in.”
He paused. “I’m still not sure what catalyst made her want to leave home. We’re close in age, but not in any other way.” He glanced at the table. “She doesn’t seem any happier here, although she’s managed to make a friend in Martha.” When Ruby frowned he added, “But she’s the only person Selah talks to. Granted, she’s the only woman in her age group besides you, so that makes sense. Otherwise, she’s been very much to herself.”
Ruby thought that might be a family trait. Both Ropp siblings isolated themselves, which was unusual among the Amish. Part of the appeal of joining the church was to keep community ties. From what she could tell, Chris was as separ
ate from Birch Creek as Selah was.
“We should get started on the lesson plans,” he said. “I have a substitute folder in my room that has all the information you’ll need for teaching and managing the classroom.” He glanced down at his white T-shirt. “I will also put on more appropriate clothing.”
She almost laughed at that. She didn’t mind the T-shirt and jeans, but she knew he minded.
“Is yer room upstairs? The bathroom? Do you need help going up?” she asked.
“No. When we moved in, Selah insisted I occupy the master bedroom down here because she likes to look out at the trees. The downstairs bathroom is next to it. I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll finish up the dishes.”
He rose from the chair, this time without needing assistance. She expected him to say something about her not flooding the kitchen this time, but he just left the room.
That was one thing she liked about him. He wasn’t the most tactful person, but he also wasn’t sarcastic. She also appreciated his honesty. Chris—or Christian, rather, which really did suit him better—was a nice man.
The water in the sink had cooled, so she pulled the plug and refilled the sink, only halfway this time. She washed the breakfast dishes and had just started to dry them when he limped back into the room, holding a bright-red folder between the fingers on his right hand. “I’m nearly done,” she said. “Do you want more kaffee?”
He shook his head and sat down. He looked tired. Spent. She quickly dried the dishes and wiped down the counters. Then she sat down next to him.
They spent the next hour going over the students’ names and needs, the classroom rules and procedures, emergency practices, and assignments for the next four days. “I never expected to be out longer than that,” he said. “I never expected to be out at all.”
She looked over the paperwork. Everything was neat and self-explanatory. He’d even fashioned a small pocket taped inside the folder’s larger pocket to hold a key to the schoolhouse. His meticulous preparation gave her confidence. “Don’t worry. Yer students are in gut hands,” she said.
The Teacher's Bride Page 14
