The Nanny's Amish Family

by Patricia Johns

  It wouldn’t be any use setting her up, though. It wasn’t that men her age weren’t interested in her upon first sight, but she couldn’t offer the family an Amish man yearned for. She wouldn’t explain this to Susan Smoker, though. The woman meant well, but Patience would have to find another way to live her life...focus on the ways she could contribute to her community. Teaching school was a valid option.

  “Mamm!” Dinah appeared at the top of the stairs. “This girl only speaks English!”

  “Yah,” Susan replied. “I know. See what clothes fit her, all the same.”

  “And she wants to know where our TV is!” Dinah added.

  Patience felt her own cheeks heat at that. “She’s still adjusting to our ways. She needs some time.”

  “And some scripture, it would seem,” Susan said. “Was she raised believing in Gott?”

  “I’m not sure,” Patience admitted.

  “And she says—” Dinah started.

  “Enough, Dinah!” Susan said. “Find her clothes, then come back down.”

  “Yes, Mamm.” Dinah disappeared again.

  Susan stared up at the staircase for a moment, then turned back to Patience with a tight smile.

  “I hope this doesn’t reflect badly on our community as a whole,” Susan said. “We’re actually a very respectable bunch.”

  Patience didn’t know how to answer that, except, this situation wasn’t quite so cut-and-dried. Thomas was going through a lot more struggle than they were giving him credit for—all of which he’d confided in her, and she couldn’t break his trust. Thomas had quickly become more than just a neighbor, she realized in a rush. He was truly a friend.

  “Thomas thought you’d be a good influence,” Patience said, lowering her voice. “He needs support—he needs a way to raise her, and that involves a whole community. He sees your kinner, and he wants to do the same for his little girl.”

  “Either we’ll be a good influence, or that child will be a bad one,” Susan said bluntly. “One or the other.”

  Patience fell silent, and the girls came back down the stairs, bare feet slapping against wooden floorboards. Their hair was all wild, all except Bethany’s, who carried herself like a small adult already, with three dresses in her arms and a pair of girls’ running shoes. Susan brightened at the sight of them.

  “That’s wonderful. That should get you started, Rue,” Susan said in English.

  “Daddy will give me my clothes back after I’m good,” Rue said.

  Susan looked over at Patience questioningly, and Patience felt her heart tug toward the little girl. After she was good... Did that mean she thought she was currently bad?

  “Thomas took her Englisher clothes,” Patience explained. Thomas had meant well, but he’d been wrong there.

  “Not forever!” Rue insisted. “He said he’s going to give them back, after I’m good for a bit. So I have to be good.”

  “I don’t think they’re coming back,” Susan said in German.

  Rue’s eyes narrowed—seeming to dislike the switch in language.

  “You needed shoes,” Patience said, turning to Rue. “That’s so nice of the girls to share theirs with you.”

  “I don’t fit them anymore,” Dinah announced. “They’re too small for me.”

  Rue looked at the shoes doubtfully. “I like pink.”

  “We wear black shoes in our community,” Susan said.

  “I like pink,” Rue repeated. There it was—her stubborn streak that was so problematic.

  “There are pink running shoes?” Dinah asked, switching to English, too.

  “No,” Bethany replied. “Not for us. That’s what the Englishers wear.”

  “I’m not Amish,” Rue said simply. “So I can wear pink shoes.”

  The girls exchanged looks, but Dinah’s gaze was fixed on Rue with a look of open curiosity. Ellen was staring, too. Patience could all but see those little gears running for both girls. They were being exposed to a brand-new idea today—that Englishers had things that sounded downright wonderful to a small girl, like pink shoes.

  “Rue, say thank you,” Patience said, forcing a smile.

  “Thank you,” Rue said quietly.

  Yes, she could see the problem here, but if that stubborn spirit could be turned to use her strength of resolve in favor of the Amish life, all would be well.

  “Come play outside, Rue,” Dinah said, holding her hand out to the smaller girl. “I’ll show you the chickens.”

  Rue smiled at that. “We’ve got a rooster named Toby, and my daddy wants to eat him!”

  “Toby will probably be tasty,” Ellen said in a matter-of-fact tone, following the other girls as they clattered outside, leaving Bethany in the kitchen with them. She reached for her baby sister, and Susan handed her over with a smile.

  “Dinah’s very interested in Rue’s Englisher stories,” Bethany said, her voice low.

  “What kinds of stories?” Susan asked sharply.

  “Oh, TVs, their toys, princesses...”

  “The Englishers don’t really have princesses,” Patience said. “It’s only a game, and a foolish one, at that. Gott made each of us equal, and we ought not to raise ourselves above each other. It’s wrong and only leads to unhappiness. An honest wife with a kind husband and houseful of kinner is far happier than a princess in a tower somewhere.”

  “You’re telling the wrong person,” Bethany said, casting a too-grown-up gaze onto Patience. “It’s Dinah who needs to hear it. And maybe Ellen.”

  Patience swallowed. Bad ideas could spread just as quickly as that. It was why the Amish kinner were kept away from the Englishers—kinner were impressionable. Rue was just a little girl, but she was also a child who didn’t want to be Amish, even now. And somehow, Patience felt protective of little Rue...

  “Bethany, could you go out and keep an eye on them?” Susan asked.

  “Yah, sure, Mamm,” Bethany said, and she headed out the side door, the baby on her hip.

  When the door shut behind her, Susan cast Patience a tired smile. “I know she’s just a little girl, and I know you have nothing to do with this... In fact, I feel terrible for you that this is your introduction to our community. But we need to be careful with our girls. I’ll suss up some more clothes for her for winter—I’ve got some warm clothes put away in storage that she can have, and some boots, too. But I can’t have her back here to play with my girls.”

  Patience met the woman’s gaze. “She’s very young...”

  “So are mine.”

  Patience nodded.

  “Look, I’m sorry to put you in the middle of this,” Susan said with a shake of her head. “My husband can tell Thomas himself. I just thought I should mention it, all the same.”

  Patience looked toward the window where she could see the girls out by a white-painted chicken coop beside which the chickens ran free. Rue had squatted down to be closer to the hens that were pecking at the ground, and Ellen and Dinah stood close by. There was a peal of laughter and Rue looked up, her eyes glittering with delight.

  “You haven’t started your pie,” Susan said. “And Patience, you make sure you come back to see me, yourself. It’ll be so fun to have another woman around to chat with...”

  But Patience wasn’t listening. Rue would never be Amish enough, Patience realized, her heart sinking. She’d always be the girl with the Englisher mamm, and there’d be no changing people’s knee-jerk reaction to that fact. They had families of their own to protect, kinner they longed to shelter, and Rue was a walking, breathing threat to their careful plans. This was going to break Thomas’s heart.

  Chapter Seven

  They all left after Thomas was finished helping Ben Smoker with his gate. As the horses made their way back home without much guidance from Thomas, Rue chattered excitedly about her new friends, which only made Patience fee
l worse for the poor thing. Even Thomas seemed cheerier after the visit—apparently, Ben hadn’t had the chance to fill him in on his wife’s request that Rue stay away from the Smoker girls. When they got back to the house, Mary needed help with the laundry, and Thomas went to work at the carpentry shop, leaving the women to their own work. There was no chance to talk to Thomas alone, not without drawing undue attention to herself, so she needed to wait until the men returned that evening and it was time for her to head back to the Kauffmans’ house.

  By dinnertime, a clothesline of laundry fluttered outside—and this time, there were men’s shirts and pants, two of Mammi’s dresses and two tiny dresses lined up next to all the adult clothing.

  The men came inside smelling of wood shavings and hard work. Amos was telling a story that made Noah laugh, but Thomas remained silent, his gaze immediately seeking out Patience in the kitchen. There was something about the spontaneity of his attention that warmed her cheeks. Rue spotted her father and gave him a shy smile.

  “I have something different for you today,” Thomas said, squatting down. He had something wrapped in a handkerchief, and Patience paused to watch.

  “What is it?” Rue asked, coming closer. She pulled aside the cloth and her eyes lit up.

  “It’s a rooster!” Rue exclaimed, holding it up. “It’s a Toby, Daddy!”

  Patience got a glimpse of the gift—a little carved rooster about the size of a tin of tuna. Rue hugged it to her chest, then she sidled up closer to her father and tipped her head onto his shoulder. Thomas patted her head tenderly, then rose to his feet again.

  “Did you want to stay for dinner?” Thomas asked Patience.

  “Thank you, but I won’t stay tonight,” she said.

  Amos and Noah had turned their attention to nabbing a bun each from the dish Mary had been guarding.

  “Would you like to...walk with me back?” Patience asked hesitantly. It was forward of her—far too forward, actually. They were both single, and this would look an awful lot like courting. But she needed to speak to him alone, and she wasn’t sure how else to do it.

  “Uh—” Thomas’s gaze looked uncertain for a moment, and then a smile tickled his lips. “Yah, I’d like that.”

  After saying goodbye, Patience hurried to the door. How this must look! When she got outside, her face felt like it was blazing, and when she glanced over at Thomas, she found him looking mildly amused.

  “This looks terrible,” she burst out. “I’m not really this forward.”

  “I didn’t think you were,” he said.

  “I’m not trying to start something, Thomas,” she added.

  “That’s too bad,” he replied, his warm gaze catching hers. He was teasing—she could see it in the glint in his eye.

  They started their walk down the drive, but Thomas didn’t seem in a big hurry. He sauntered along slowly enough.

  “I just had to talk to you alone, and I didn’t want to draw any attention to it because Rue has been through enough lately, and—” Patience looked back over her shoulder and Thomas did the same. Mary was looking out the door after them, and when she was spotted, she whisked back inside.

  “I don’t think it worked,” Thomas chuckled. “What’s going on?”

  “It’s Susan Smoker,” Patience replied. “Did Ben say anything to you?”

  “No.” He sobered now. “What’s the problem?”

  Patience licked her lips. “Oh... Well, it seems that Susan—” She didn’t want to have to say this out loud. It was cruel, and when she turned to look at Thomas again, he reached out and caught her hand. It wasn’t a casual touch, either—it was purposeful, steadying.

  “Patience, what is it?” He kept her fingers clasped in his, and there was something about his warm, strong grip—she couldn’t let herself appreciate it. So she tugged her hand free. Thomas seemed to realize what he’d done then, too, and he pulled his hand back to his side.

  “She says that Rue can’t come back,” Patience said. “I’m sorry. I tried to point out that her daughters could be a good influence for Rue, but...”

  Thomas was silent for a moment, and Patience could see the emotions clashing over his face—anger, frustration, hurt. These were people Thomas thought he could trust to help him in his most vulnerable time as a brand-new daet. He’d been wrong.

  “Did Rue do something bad?” Thomas asked.

  “No! She was fine. She...just talked. As kinner do.”

  “About Englisher things,” Thomas surmised.

  “Yah, about Englisher things.”

  Thomas sighed, and he started walking again, and she fell in at his side.

  “I’m sorry,” Patience added. “I don’t think Susan is being fair to her.”

  “I don’t think Susan is thinking about Rue at all,” he replied quietly. “She’s thinking about her own girls.”

  “That’s true...” Patience rubbed her hands over her arms. “Do you want my advice, for whatever it’s worth?”

  “Yah, I do.” Thomas looked down at her. “What do you think?”

  “Maybe it’s better to start out with time alone with you,” Patience replied. “It’s her relationship to her daet that will be most meaningful. Maybe until people relax a little more, you could do some special things with Rue alone.”

  Thomas chewed the side of his cheek, and they reached the top of the drive. He walked over a few paces until he was shrouded from view at the house by some lilac bushes, the blooms wafting fragrance. He smiled faintly.

  Patience went over to where he stood and looked past his shoulder. Anyone in the house could no longer watch them—was that on purpose? They had some privacy—for a moment or two, at least.

  “You know how this looks, Thomas,” she said.

  “They can’t see us,” he said.

  “You know what I mean!” she laughed. “And I know it’s my own fault, but I’d really rather not start rumors right away. You should go back.”

  “I don’t want to go back,” he replied, and he caught her gaze with a challenge in his eye. “Do you?”

  She didn’t, actually. It felt nice to stand here in the cool shade of the lilac bushes, this handsome, kind man inches away from her... This was the very thing she couldn’t be getting used to, or playing with.

  “I’m your first friend here,” he said. “And I will make sure to set everyone straight as soon as I get back to the house.”

  “Do you promise?” she asked quietly.

  “Yah. I promise. Besides, we haven’t figured out what I’ll do with Rue all by myself.”

  Patience was silent for a moment, her mind going back to her own childhood. “My daet used to take me and my sisters to the river. We had one that ran through our property, and we’d pack up a picnic lunch, and he’d take us out to the river to eat it together. Once, when my mamm and sisters had gone to a quilting circle, my daet took me to the river alone, and we sat and threw stones into the water...”

  She smiled at the memory. Her daet had been a loving man, and he had a way of making every single one of them feel like the favorite.

  “There’s a creek I used to play in as a boy,” Thomas said. “My brother and I used to go there together after chores were done, and we’d dam it up with stones, and then let the water through again in a rush... I pointed it out on the way to the Smokers’ place.”

  “That’s right. I remember. A creek is part of a complete childhood,” she said.

  “I don’t know if Rue would even want that much time alone with me,” Thomas said. “I’m the gruff one—the one who punishes.”

  “Rue loves the rooster,” Patience countered.

  “Yah.” He smiled. “I got that one right.” He paused, the sound of birds twittering filling the silence as his gaze moved slowly over her face. “Would you...come with us?”

  Did she dare? It wasn’t that she
didn’t want to, it was that she might want this time with Thomas and Rue a little too much. She didn’t belong here—not like that.

  “I’m not sure I should,” she admitted.

  Thomas nodded. “Okay. I understand. I’m sorry if I’m crossing lines I shouldn’t. I know you’ll find some nice man sooner or later and he’ll marry you, but—”

  “It isn’t that,” Patience said, shaking her head. There wouldn’t be other men. She knew that already. “I don’t want to intrude. You don’t have to entertain me or anything. And this is about you and Rue. I’m...an outsider.”

  “No more than I am,” he said with a sigh.

  A bug fluttered next to her face and Thomas reached out and brushed it away. The movement was impulsive, but once his hand was next to her face, he didn’t pull back, and neither did she. He touched her cheek with the back of one finger, and that warm gaze met hers. She felt goose bumps rise on her arms, but she didn’t drop her gaze. His eyes moved down to her lips, and he stepped closer.

  “She’s comfortable with you,” he murmured.

  Patience meant to answer him somehow, but there were no words in her head, and all she seemed able to feel was the warmth of his chest emanating against her and the tickle of his breath against her face. The moment seemed to deepen around them—even the sound of the birds seeming to drift away. She swayed toward him, and he caught her hand in his, stepping closer, too. But the growl of a car engine was too much to ignore, and they both took a step back as a car swept past them, a whoosh of air ruffling her dress around her legs.

  She let out a shaky sigh, suddenly feeling very alone on that street with the gulf between them. What had just happened there? If it weren’t for the car, would he have kissed her? She dropped her gaze.

  “Thomas—”

  “Patience, I—”

  They both started talking at once, then they both halted. Patience looked up at him again, some heat in her cheeks.

  “I’d like it if you came along for our picnic to the creek. That’s all,” Thomas said, clearing his throat.