The Teacher's Bride

by Kathleen Fuller

  When he looked at her, he didn’t seem as confident as she was. She could be offended by that, but in the short time they’d known each other, she hadn’t exactly been accident-free. Still, when it came to children, she was self-assured. “You can trust me,” she said. “Everything will be fine.”

  He hesitated before nodding.

  “Now, why don’t you geh lie down? Better yet, you should take some of those pain pills. The doctor gave them to you for a reason.”

  “I just might do that.” He didn’t move. Neither did she. “I hope you’ll excuse me if I don’t walk you out,” he said.

  “You’re excused.” Still, she stayed seated.

  “You can leave now,” he said.

  “Not until you geh lie down.”

  He arched his brow. “You don’t trust me?”

  She looked at him. “Ya,” she said softly. “I do.” She picked up the folder and stood. “Take care of yerself, Christian.”

  He nodded, his eyes softening. Danki, Ruby.”

  She let herself out the front door and thought about Selah as she walked down the porch steps and toward the road. Now that Christian had explained how unhappy his sister seemed to be, she wondered if she should reach out to her. People weren’t miserable unless they had a reason, and maybe Selah would want to talk about it.

  Then she shook her head. This was a situation that required prudence, and for once Ruby was going to employ it. But that didn’t stop her from saying a silent prayer for Christian and Selah. They both needed God’s healing presence right now.

  CHAPTER 11

  By Wednesday, Christian fully comprehended the term cabin fever. It didn’t help that Selah wasn’t speaking to him. At this point he was tired of her immaturity. She was nineteen, yet she insisted on acting like a seventh grader. He didn’t want her waiting on him hand and foot, but it would be nice if she showed a little compassion. Right now, she was treating him as if he were a wad of gum on the bottom of her shoe.

  Then there was the problem of his ankle. The swelling had diminished, but he was still in pain when he put weight on it. He used the pain pills once after Ruby left, but only because she told him to. He had to admit they’d helped. He’d gone back to bed and managed to sleep for the rest of the morning.

  But sleep and lessened pain increased his eagerness to get back to the classroom. His students needed him. And now that he was incapacitated, he realized how much he needed the interaction with his students. It wasn’t an easy revelation to accept. He hadn’t known how dependent he was emotionally on his job until now.

  Christian thumped his crutches from his room to the kitchen, the school still on his mind. He poured himself a glass of milk. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Ruby. All right, he trusted her mostly. But her penchant for accidents was a concern. He set the glass on the table and leaned against his crutches. He wasn’t prone to fretting, but his stomach was in knots right now. Was she following all the procedures? Were the students behaving? Did he remember to tell her about Malachi’s enrichment activities? What about Perry and Jesse’s tutoring? He was supposed to meet with them tomorrow. Had he made a note of that in the folder?

  Then there was the baffling issue that he might have been, for a moment and in his pain-induced haze, attracted to Ruby. Yesterday, before Selah barged into the kitchen and turned off the running water—which he hadn’t realized was overflowing—he couldn’t pull his gaze from Ruby. They’d been standing close, and he was noticing how one eyebrow was slightly higher than the other when it struck him how pretty she was. But she wasn’t just pretty. She was kind, generous, and above all, eternally optimistic. In that moment, he simply wished to be near her.

  Looking back on it, as angry as he’d been with Selah—and he was still upset with her—he was glad she’d interrupted them. Clearly his injury had disquieted his emotions, something he wasn’t used to.

  His ankle started to throb. He sat down at the table and closed his eyes. A verse from Philippians ran through is mind. Do not be anxious about anything. He’d always insisted on being in control to the best of his ability—at all times. Right now, though, he was struggling to find his bearings.

  Selah sauntered into the kitchen. As had been her habit the past two days, she was still dressed in her nightgown. Again, she ignored him, getting coffee without even looking at him. Coffee that he’d managed to make. She turned to leave the room.

  “Selah.”

  She paused and looked at him. Her hair was a mess, her nightgown askew, her expression weary. “What?” she said in a flat tone.

  Now that he had her attention, he wasn’t sure what to say. He recalled what he’d read about adolescent behavior and discipline to be prepared for the older students in his class. One recommendation was to avoid being confrontational. “I was wondering how you’re doing.”

  “I’m fine.” She turned away and left the room.

  Christian clenched his hands into fists. Since his accident, she hadn’t inquired about his physical state even once. She hadn’t offered to do anything to help him either. She was mostly holed up in her bedroom upstairs. Very well. If that’s what she wanted to do, fine. He wasn’t about to navigate the stairs to check on her if she didn’t care enough about him to ask if he was okay.

  He brushed aside the hurt as immediately as it appeared. It was folly to dwell on it. Musing on situations he couldn’t control wasn’t productive. Instead he prepared his breakfast—two pieces of bread with butter—and sat back down at the table. He hadn’t had much of an appetite, and he could only choke down three-fourths of his meager meal. He’d also noticed their food supplies were low. Selah needed to go to the grocery store. Or would he end up doing that too? Normally he didn’t mind going shopping, but he didn’t relish the thought of dealing with a shopping cart while on crutches, let alone hoisting himself into their buggy or even a taxi.

  Perhaps some leisurely reading was in order. He went to the living room, settled on the sofa, and opened one of his favorite novels, Of Mice and Men. He tried to focus and failed. He even dozed off a couple times, something that never happened when he read Steinbeck. He’d been nodding off again when he heard a knock on the door. He sat up and waited for Selah to come downstairs and answer it. When she didn’t, he struggled until he was upright and answered it himself.

  He was surprised to see Phoebe Chupp standing there, holding a shallow box in one hand. One quick glance revealed what looked to be a casserole in a covered dish. She also carried a small white plastic bag that looked full. Then Christian noticed Malachi standing slightly behind his mother, holding a similar plastic bag, his gaze not meeting Christian’s eyes.

  “Gute morgen,” Christian said, opening the door wider. A cool fall breeze filtered in.

  “You mean afternoon.” Phoebe smiled, her blue eyes sparkling.

  “Already?” Had he slept on the sofa that long?

  “It’s almost three.”

  Surprised, he said, “I had no idea. Come in, please.” He hopped away a few steps and let his guests in before pushing the door shut. He looked at Malachi. “Hello.”

  Malachi stared at the floor. “Hello,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

  Phoebe nodded at the covered dish in the box. “We brought you a hamburger-and-noodle casserole. Plus a few other things I thought you might like.”

  “Danki,” he said. “Selah’s upstairs. I’ll call her to come down. You can set those things on the kitchen counter, if you don’t mind.”

  As Phoebe and Malachi left the room, he limped to the bottom of the stairs. “Selah,” he called out. “We have company.” He waited but heard no response. “Selah!” All right, he’d had enough. He was about to go upstairs, crutches or not, when Phoebe came back into the living room.

  “We found a note.” Phoebe handed it to him.

  Went out. Be back later.

  He folded the note and shoved it into his pocket. No explanation, no return time. He should give her credit for even leaving him a
note, but he wasn’t inclined to. He gripped his crutches and comported himself. He wouldn’t lose his temper in front of Phoebe and Malachi.

  Phoebe gestured for him to follow her into the kitchen. “I put the casserole in the oven. It’s still warm, but you can heat it up again whenever you like. There’s also fresh bread, some butter, pickles, and chocolate chip cookies.”

  “I appreciate this,” he said, calming down a bit as he focused on Phoebe’s generosity. “You didn’t have to geh to so much trouble.”

  “I didn’t mind.” Phoebe walked back to the doorway, where Malachi was standing just outside the kitchen. “Come in here,” she said through gritted teeth.

  He dragged his feet as he walked toward her. She placed her hand on his shoulder. “Malachi has something to say to you. I’ll be in the living room while you two talk.”

  Malachi didn’t move, his eyes still downcast. He didn’t say a word.

  Christian hopped to a chair and sat down, leaning his crutches against the table. “Have a seat, Malachi,” he said with a smile. The young boy looked miserable enough. He didn’t want him to think Christian held any ill will toward him.

  Malachi perched on the edge of a chair. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “It’s mei fault you’re hurt.”

  “That’s true.”

  For the first time since he arrived, Malachi looked up. “I thought we’d picked up all the marbles.” His lower lip started to quiver a little bit. “I won’t ever bring them to school again. I promise.”

  Christian leaned forward. “You can bring marbles to school, Malachi. But you have to follow the rules. They’re in place for a reason. You need to ask permission first. Also, make sure you have them in a pouch or bag. Understand?”

  Malachi nodded.

  Christian straightened. “I accept yer apology.”

  His small shoulders slumping with relief, Malachi settled further back in the chair.

  “Yer mamm said she brought some cookies.”

  “Ya” Malachi said, perking up a bit. “Her cookies are the best.”

  “Would you like one?”

  Malachi nodded. “I can get them.”

  Christian smiled as Malachi dashed to the counter and took a wrapped plate of cookies from one of the bags. “There’s some milk in the cooler,” Christian said. “The glasses are to the right of the sink.”

  A few minutes later Malachi and Christian each had a cookie in one hand and a glass of milk in front of them. Christian broke his cookie in half and dunked part of it in the milk. “This is the only way to eat a chocolate chip cookie.”

  Malachi followed suit, and they took a bite at the same time. Christian hadn’t submerged a cookie in milk since he was a small child, but it had the desired effect on Malachi. He was much more relaxed now. Christian wanted to put the unpleasant business of spilled marbles and his sprained ankle in the past. “How is school progressing?”

  “Gut.” His face brightened further. “I like Miss Ruby.”

  “Miss Ruby?”

  “She asked us to call her that. She says Frau Glick is too formal. She’s really fun, too, and today we learned all about clouds.”

  Clouds? His mouth tightened. He didn’t recall that being in his lesson plans.

  “Ya. She took us outside and we laid on the grass on the playground. There were a bunch of clouds in the sky and we all tried to guess what the shapes were. I saw a dinosaur.”

  Christian stiffened. “Anything else?”

  “There was a bear, a flower, and Judah thought he saw an ice cream cone, but I think he was just hungry for lunch.”

  Phoebe came back into the kitchen. “Everything all right in here?”

  “Ya” Malachi jumped from his chair. “I was just telling Herr Ropp that school is fun.” He looked up at his mother. “Can I geh home now?”

  “As long as you apologized to yer teacher.”

  “I did.”

  Phoebe met Christian’s gaze and he nodded.

  “Then you may geh home.”

  Malachi gave Christian a small wave and ran out of the kitchen. Seconds later he heard the front door shut.

  Phoebe walked to the table and sat down, placing her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry for what happened,” she said, her chin tilting down. “I had nee idea Malachi had taken marbles to school. Jalon brought them home for him the day before, and they had fun playing with them. Then his little schwester wasn’t feeling well that morning, so I was tending to her. That’s when he must have slipped out the door with them.”

  “I understand.” And he did. But Malachi wasn’t his concern right now. Shapes of clouds? Not even the scientific names for them? That would be fine for preschool and kindergarten children, but a waste of time for the older students. In addition, clouds and the water cycle were topics for next semester. What else was she teaching—or not teaching?

  Danki, Chris,” Phoebe said. “Rest assured, Malachi was disciplined at home for his actions.” Her gaze softened. “Although he really feels bad that you were hurt. I think that’s harder on him than his consequences.”

  “He’s a fine young man,” Christian answered absently. Was Ruby following anything on his plans? Why had she bothered to get them from him if she had no intention of implementing his lessons?

  “And you don’t have to worry about school. Ruby is doing a fine job. Mei little bruders can’t say enough gut things about her, and they’ve never done that for any teacher before.” Her lips formed an O shape. “I mean—”

  “It’s all right.” He didn’t go into teaching to be liked or have his praises sung. He wanted to educate, not play. “I’m . . . I’m glad the students are adjusting to the change.”

  “They are.” Phoebe stood. “Enjoy the casserole, and if you need anything, just let Jalon and me know. We pray yer ankle heals quickly.”

  “Danki.”

  “I’ll see myself out.”

  He nodded as she left the kitchen, and then he grabbed his crutches and stood, intending to pace but remembering he couldn’t, which further frustrated him. He gripped his crutches until his hands ached. He didn’t spend all that time and effort getting the Birch Creek school to run like a well-oiled machine only to have Ruby dismantle it in one day.

  The pain in his knuckles reined in his thoughts. He relaxed his hands, still holding onto the crutches.

  Then he settled down. Why was he getting worked up? A wasted lesson on clouds wasn’t the end of the world. And he did have only Malachi’s word to go on. A seven-year-old wasn’t the most reliable source. He should also be glad the students were accepting of Ruby. If they weren’t, this would be a difficult situation for everyone.

  He blew out a breath. Maybe it was the residual effect of the pain pills that made him jump to conclusions. Still, he couldn’t let this go. Only one thing would give him peace of mind. He had to see what was going on himself. He wouldn’t do anything in the classroom. Just observe. Maybe give her a few pointers after the lesson, if necessary.

  His shoulders relaxed. Knowing he would be in school tomorrow to see firsthand what Ruby was doing relieved his tension. Realizing he’d missed lunch completely, he limped to the stove, opened the oven door, and touched the casserole dish. It was lukewarm. He turned the oven on and went back to the living room. This time when he picked up his book he was able to concentrate.

  Selah didn’t return home for her supper. Christian thought about waiting up for her, but he needed his strength for tomorrow. Besides, he may be responsible for her overall well-being, but he wasn’t her keeper. He was having a hard enough time managing himself lately.

  Ruby whistled on her way to school. The sun was shining, and a cool but not too cold breeze was blowing. The leaves were falling, the crisp scent of fall was in the air—and she was going to teach another day.

  This would be only her second day subbing for Christian, but she knew after five minutes in the classroom that it was the place for her. She loved being surrounded by the kids, working with them, seeing their
rapt attention when she talked to them or told them a story. She should have pursued teaching a long time ago, but she would have been afraid of the responsibility.

  Not that it was an easy job—she was exhausted, but it was a good kind of tired. She did have to assert her authority on the first day, especially with two of the Bontrager boys who thought it would be funny to put a chewed wad of gum on her chair. She saw it before she sat down, fortunately. She didn’t make a big deal about it. She just picked up the gum with a tissue and put it in the waste can. Perry and Jesse had given themselves away by giggling, and she had made them clean all the desks and tables after school as their consequence, which Christian had in his substitute folder. He had really thought of everything.

  Except for fun. They had recess, but no time was scheduled for anything spontaneous. Even rest and silent reading time were planned. That spurred her decision to deviate from Christian’s plans a tad. She’d taken the kids outside in the afternoon to look at the clouds. They were fidgety, and they needed the fresh air. Cold weather would arrive soon enough, and it had always been her personal policy to enjoy the warm sunshine whenever possible. Even the older students enjoyed it, although she could tell that, at first, they felt kind of silly lying on the grass with the younger ones.

  She smiled. Speaking of spontaneous, yesterday morning she’d had a great idea. One of the students, Emma, mentioned her pet kitten and asked if she could bring it to school. Ruby was initially going to say no, but she changed her mind. She’d loved show-and-tell when she was in school, and how fun would it be to have an adorable kitten in the classroom for a day? Then she extended the idea and decided to have Bring Your Pet to School Day today. No, it wasn’t in Christian’s lesson plans, but she would adjust for that later. She imagined the dogs would lie at the students’ feet and the cats in their laps. She’d never had pets growing up—her mother was allergic to animal fur—and she would have loved to do her schoolwork with a furry friend or two.