The Nanny's Amish Family

by Patricia Johns

  “Your mamm said something quite similar,” the bishop said, his voice low. “She said she’s made mistakes, and all she could hope for at this point was a little grace and forgiveness.”

  Tears misted in Thomas’s eyes and he swallowed, blinking hard. His mamm... Facing life as a single parent was not easy, but she’d left them! She’d given them an impossible choice, and she’d gone alone to the city, to her sister and to that life that they’d been taught was fraught with evil.

  “This is the part that is difficult for me,” the bishop went on. “If we vote to let her come back, then we’re opening our community to her influence. We all influence each other, whether we like it or not. But if I turn her away, then perhaps I’m going against Gott’s will. He asks us to forgive, not to judge, and Gott works in mysterious ways. He’s brought his wayward daughter to our door. She’s asked to be permitted to live a plain life again. What do we do with that?”

  Thomas licked his lips, but he remained silent.

  “What would you like us to do under these circumstances?” the bishop pressed. “This is your mamm. You must have missed her desperately.”

  “Yah, we’ve missed her,” Noah confirmed.

  “As her kinner, your lives will be directly affected by this decision,” the bishop said. “This will be voted on by the elders, but I’d like you both to give us an idea of how it would impact you if she returned, or if she stayed away. To have your mamm back in your life would be wonderful, I’m sure. But it would also impact your daughter, Thomas. I wanted to hear from you what you would like the outcome to be.”

  “You want us to be part of the decision?” Noah asked.

  “Indirectly, yes. I want you to let us know how you feel about your mamm’s return. And then we will pray for Gott’s guidance, and vote. But your feelings in this matter to us.”

  “I don’t know what to say just now,” Thomas admitted. He loved his mamm, but he also loved his daughter. There was a grave risk in his mamm’s return, and yet... It was another impossible choice. How could a man be asked to choose between his child and his mamm?

  “You’ll need to talk as brothers,” the older man said. “So you can tell me in a few days, then.”

  The bishop took his leave, shaking both of their hands before he went back out to his waiting buggy. Thomas and Noah went back onto the porch and Thomas picked up his whittling again. Together he and his brother stared out at the dusky sky. Bugs circled the kerosene lamp that gave Thomas enough light by which to work, and for a few minutes they were both silent.

  “I am angry,” Noah said quietly. “And I’m insulted that she doesn’t believe what she taught us anymore. But all the same, I want her back. Maybe even to argue with her about all we went through—maybe just for that.”

  Thomas sucked in a wavery breath. His experience of their mamm’s life with the Englishers was different, because he’d joined her there for a few years. He knew what she’d experienced out there—it was a whole different way of seeing things, and when you were out there in the midst of the Englishers, their ways didn’t seem so wrong. It was a strange experience.

  “I miss Mamm,” Thomas said quietly. “But will she make an Englisher life look that much more appealing to my daughter?”

  “If Mamm stays English, it might give Rue somewhere to go to,” Noah replied.

  “I hadn’t thought of that...” Thomas worked at the details of the kapp and hair on his little figurine, the work calming the clamor in his head. There was no clear path here—no easy decision that protected his daughter’s innocence. His own mistakes were shadowing him here, as were his mamm’s.

  “Is this cruel of the bishop to ask our input?” Noah asked.

  “Maybe,” Thomas said. “But we’re the ones who will live with the impact of her return most closely. Maybe it’s just wise of them to listen to what we have to say.”

  “So what do we say?” Noah looked up at his brother.

  Thomas turned back to his whittling, his heart heavy. He didn’t want to sit here—he wanted to get away from the house and get alone with his thoughts. He needed to walk.

  “Maybe we just say that we love our mamm,” Thomas said. “It’s the only thing we can be sure is true.”

  Noah swatted at a mosquito on his arm, and Thomas tucked his whittling aside, snapped his knife shut and put it back into his pocket.

  “I need to clear my head,” Thomas said. “I’m going to take a walk.”

  “Yah, okay,” Noah replied, and he sucked in a deep breath.

  And Thomas headed off across the lawn and toward the gravel drive. The sun was bleeding red along the horizon, and his heart was bleeding within him.

  Gott, I can’t choose between my daughter and my mamm. And I can’t read the future, either. What do I do? What do I say? Can You redeem this mess that we’ve made?

  Chapter Twelve

  Patience sat on the edge of her bed up in the guest room of the Kauffmans’ home. The older folks were downstairs in the sitting room. She could hear the murmur of their voices through the floorboards, but her attention wasn’t on their muffled conversation. She was looking outside the window at the slowly setting sun. It flooded the sky with crimson, matching her mood tonight.

  She’d thought that talking things through with Thomas would be enough to banish whatever they were feeling for each other, but it hadn’t worked—not in the schoolhouse, at least. Her hand tingled where he’d touched it, and she balled her fingers into a fist.

  She had to stop this! Whatever was sparking between them couldn’t last. She didn’t think he meant to toy with her, any more than she meant to toy with him. But she was no longer a young thing with giddy hopes of romance. She didn’t have what a man like Thomas needed, and adults with responsibilities were obligated to be practical.

  She couldn’t relax, and while she’d get used to living with the Kauffmans this year, it wasn’t like being at home with her mamm and daet. If she were home right now, they’d all be sitting around the kitchen table talking about the latest gossip in the community, or playing a game of Dutch Blitz. Being with family was easier, even if she was the last one left at home.

  She’d wanted this move to a new community—desperately. And now that she was here, she felt nothing but homesick.

  Patience sucked in a breath. Maybe a walk would do her good, clear her head, give her some fresh air and a bit of perspective again.

  She headed down the stairs, and when she got to the bottom of the staircase, she poked her head into the sitting room.

  “Oh, hello, dear,” Hannah said with a smile. “Are you hungry?”

  “No,” Patience said and smiled in return. Hannah seemed to feed people on instinct—whenever she saw them, she offered a snack. “But thank you. I thought I’d go for a walk.”

  “Oh, of course. Enjoy yourself.”

  Samuel smiled, too, then passed the folded newspaper over to his wife. “Look who’s gotten married—that’s old Ben’s grandson, isn’t it? Ben Yoder—the one who built that silo, and the storm crushed it, remember? His son, with the one leg a bit shorter than the other...”

  Patience went back through the kitchen and out the side door, the sound of the older couple’s discussion whether this was the right young man in question or someone with a similar name following her until she got out onto the step. This old couple knew the family stories of everyone, it seemed. That’s how a close community worked, and it was that very intimate community knowledge that she’d been trying to escape in Beaufort.

  She sucked in a deep breath, the aroma of lilacs and freshly cut grass soothing her nerves, and she angled her steps across the lawn and toward the field. She wanted to walk and pray and feel like there might be a purpose in her life again. Because after Ruben, whom she hadn’t really loved, but whom she respected a great deal...and now after Thomas, whom she’d started to feel things for that she ha
d no right to feel, she just wanted the solace that only Gott could give her.

  But Gott wasn’t soothing her heart! He wasn’t taking these feelings away! Why not? She was trying to do the right thing—not to toy with something so powerful as this kind of attraction between a man and a woman—and Gott wasn’t doing what everyone assured her He would do if she just took a step in the right direction. Gott was not making this easier.

  The grass was long and lush. There was only about two acres between the Kauffman house and the fence at the end of their property, but Patience liked this walk—wildflowers mingling with grass, the birds twittering their good-nights in the copses of trees, and the warm wind reminding her that there was still life on the other side of loss.

  As she came within sight of the wooden fence that separated the two properties, she saw a figure standing there, head down, shoulders stooped, leaning against the top rail. It was Thomas—she’d know him anywhere. She slowed her stride, wondering if she should turn back. He lifted his head, looking out toward the sunset—away from her and to her left. What was he doing out here—the same as her? No one walked out this direction unless they wanted privacy, and it wouldn’t be right to interrupt his, and yet—

  Thomas turned then as if on instinct—and he seemed to have spotted her, because he straightened.

  “Patience?” he said, his voice surfing the breeze toward her.

  She couldn’t turn back now, and if she had to be utterly truthful, she didn’t want to.

  “I just came for a walk,” she said, closing the distance between them. They stood on either side of the wooden fence, the grass rippling around her as she looked into Thomas’s pain-filled face.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “I’m...just thinking, I guess,” he said. “Are you?”

  Did her own misery show on her face, too? “I’m praying,” she said.

  “What are you praying for?” he asked.

  “Comfort,” she said. She didn’t want to tell him that she was praying for Gott to empty her heart of whatever it was she was feeling for him.

  Thomas leaned against the fence. It came up only to just below his chest, and he reached for her hand. She came closer and reached out, and he caught her fingers in his strong grip. It was a relief to have this contact with him, and she shut her eyes for a moment, wishing she didn’t feel it.

  “I missed you,” Thomas said, his voice low and gruff.

  “Thomas...”

  “I know, I know,” he said. “I’m supposed to turn this off, aren’t I? I’m supposed to recognize that it won’t work and do the honorable thing.”

  “Yes!” she said. “We both are! What are we, if we aren’t honorable?”

  Patience took a step closer. The fence loomed between them, the grass tickling her legs, and she looked down at his work-worn fingers moving over hers.

  “Have you managed to stop feeling this?” he asked.

  “No,” she whispered. “But I’m praying for it... Oh, how I’m praying...”

  Tears misted her eyes and she swallowed hard. Thomas released her fingers and she pulled her hand against her apron. She didn’t know what to say. She had no words of wisdom here, no answers that would fix this problem for them.

  “You’re all I seem to think about,” Thomas said. “And when I see you, I—I don’t know even know how to explain it. It’s like I can’t be content until I’ve held your hand, or...kissed you.”

  “But Thomas, you know what you need... And I’ve already turned down one man because I can’t live my life being the second best he settled for. I can’t be that for you, either.”

  “Should we avoid each other, then?” he murmured.

  “Maybe...” But the very thought was a painful one. It would hurt for a long time, but eventually, she’d find her balance again.

  “The bishop came to visit tonight,” Thomas said.

  “The bishop? Why?” she breathed. Had gossip already spread? Had someone seen them together? Possibilities tumbled through her head, and she couldn’t help but feel that welling sense of guilt. A couple couldn’t play with these things. Especially not the schoolteacher!

  “It was about my mamm,” he said.

  “Oh...”

  He gave her a brief overview of the bishop’s visit and his request for their input, and then he heaved a sigh. “I can’t ask the bishop to turn my mamm away, and yet, I’m scared for Rue.”

  “You’ll raise Rue right,” Patience said, but even as the words came out of her mouth, she knew it wasn’t enough.

  “I’ll need to get married,” he said, and his voice caught.

  Patience stared up at him. She could hear in his voice that it wasn’t her that he’d wed, either. He’d have to find someone who could give him kinner to fill in those gaps in his home.

  “Yah, you will,” she said, trying to sound braver than she felt. “It will be okay.”

  “Will it?” he asked. “Really?”

  “I think you need to—” she started.

  “No, tell me how you feel about it,” he interrupted her. “Because I’ve been thinking myself in circles. What really matters here is how we feel.”

  “No!” she snapped. “No! I’m not doing that, because it isn’t fair! I hate it, okay? I hate it! And I won’t go to your wedding, either!”

  “Good. At least you hate it as much as I do.”

  Thomas reached for her hand again and pulled her up against the fence. He dipped his head down and caught her lips with his. His kiss was sad, and filled with longing. She let her eyes flutter shut, leaning against that rough wood that held them apart as he kissed her tenderly. When he pulled back, she opened her eyes again and found him looking down at her miserably.

  The sun had set now, the last smudge of red along the horizon, and they stood there in the growing darkness, a fence between them, and her heart aching in her chest.

  “How am I supposed to just walk away from the woman I love?” he whispered.

  The breath whisked out of her lungs as the words hit her.

  “You love me?” she whispered.

  Thomas looked at the fence between them irritably. “Yah, I do.”

  Thomas climbed the fence, and then vaulted himself over the other side. He tugged her into his arms and pulled her close. She could feel his face against her hair, the stubble on his cheek scraping against the stiff cotton of her kapp. It felt good to have his arms around her, his heart beating strong against her.

  “The question is,” he said, his voice low and gravelly, “do you love me?”

  Patience felt the tears rise up inside her. She’d been fighting this for longer than she’d realized. This man had managed to slip beneath her cautious defenses, and she’d fallen for him. She’d been praying and praying for Gott to take this away, but... It was too late.

  “Yah,” she whispered. “I do.”

  The inevitable heartbreak she was trying to protect herself from had arrived. She’d fallen in love with him in spite of all her best efforts. And now all she could do was pray that Gott would take her through.

  * * *

  The dusky darkness was growing ever deeper, and Thomas looked around them. In the distance, the Kauffman house’s downstairs windows glowed with light from the gas lamps, but it felt far away, and the chill of oncoming autumn whispered through the grass. He’d been standing out here praying for some sort of insight, some wisdom that could come only from Gott, and instead he’d come face-to-face with the woman he couldn’t seem to get out of his system.

  Was she his answer? Dare he hope it? Thomas cupped her cheek with one hand, and she leaned into his touch. Her skin was so soft, and her eyes glittered in the lowering light. She loved him... Somehow, he hadn’t expected her to admit it. But he wasn’t alone in this ocean of emotion—she loved him, too! His heart welled up inside his chest. If she loved him,
there was hope, wasn’t there? He wasn’t just some foolish man pining for a woman who didn’t see him the same way. This was different...

  “You love me,” he repeated. “Then let’s find a way.”

  “What way?” she asked.

  “So I’m supposed to find someone else?” he whispered.

  “Yah.” Her voice sounded strangled.

  “And if I want you?”

  “I want you, too... But it isn’t about that, is it? Do you think I want to be the one who holds you back from the full life of a growing family?” Patience demanded, her voice strengthening. “You seem to think this is about your sacrifice only, but I’m not the kind of woman who can give a man half the life he wants and figure I’ve done well for myself. Getting a husband is a fine accomplishment, but marriage is about a whole lot more than a wedding, because after the excitement and when things calm down again, you’d still want kinner. You’ll still need them! That isn’t going away. And when women in our community got pregnant, women I’ve made quilts with, I’d constantly wonder what you were thinking, because I would know that you settled for me. I wouldn’t be sure if I was enough, after all.”

  Enough! Could she even wonder that?

  “You would be,” he insisted.

  “No!” She took a step back. “No, Thomas! I have older sisters. I’ve seen the rhythm of marriage. It starts out passionately where nothing else matters but the two of them, but a family matters. And your needs won’t go away. Neither will Rue’s.”

  Rue... She was the one he needed to worry about, and Patience had made a painfully accurate point. He was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to give his daughter enough reason to stay Amish, to stay with him... But there was an Amish proverb that said, Don’t bother telling your child what to do, she’ll only copy your actions anyway.