by Marta Perry
He nodded, gazing around the classroom as if seeing it as it had been years ago. “Remember how she used to read poetry to us? I could never see sense to it, until I found it on my own.”
Unaccountably moved, Sally struggled for control. She didn’t speak until she thought she could sound natural. “Robert Frost was always my favorite. When we have our first snow, I’ll read...”
“‘Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening,’” he said, smiling a little. “I know.”
“Yah.” She was almost afraid to let their eyes meet. It was becoming too dangerous to her peace of mind.
Maybe Aaron felt the same, because his voice changed. “When I sat back there, all I did was watch the clock.”
“Or think up mischief,” she added. It seemed the right moment to ask the question that troubled her. “Were you planning on leaving even then?”
“Then?” He looked startled. “No, I don’t think so. I was a bit older when I started feeling there was more to life than the farm and being bossed around by Caleb.”
So. She’d guessed that was at the heart of his relationship with his big brother. She chose her words carefully. “Caleb had a lot of responsibility thrust on him when he was very young to handle it. I guess it’s natural that you’d clash.”
He’d been gathering up discarded papers, and his hands froze for an instant. Then he pushed them firmly into the trash bag he held. He finished before he let himself look at her.
“You saw a lot, little Sally.”
“I keep telling you. I’m not little Sally any longer.”
“No, you’re not.” He studied her for a long moment, and then he smiled. It was the full, genuine smile she kept longing to see, and it moved her entirely too much.
* * *
Careful, be careful. A lecture to himself was definitely in order. He couldn’t unburden himself to anyone, including—no, make that especially—Sally. A man with nothing to give and an uncertain future might be drawn to her warmth and sympathy, but it was entirely too dangerous.
“Well, this bag is about full.” He turned away from her smile. “I’ll run it out to the trash cans. Anything else you have ready to go?”
“No, I think that’s it.” Sally didn’t seem to notice the abrupt change in conversation. “I still have to check all the desks that were near the leak to make sure the damp didn’t get into anything.”
“Didn’t you have your scholars check their desks?”
Her dimple returned. “Would you rely on them to be sure nothing was damp?”
“Come to think of it, I guess I wouldn’t. At least if they’re anything like I was at that age.”
Sally was chuckling as he carted the trash bag out. That should mean she hadn’t noticed anything about his reaction to her. Good. He deposited the bag in the bin and paused for a moment to scan the still-overcast sky. More rain was probably coming. Daniel’s patching might well be tested.
When he got back inside, he found Sally carefully checking everything in a child’s desk, touching each item. Following her lead, he started on one of the larger desks.
They worked in silence for a time. When he heard the patter of rain against the windows, he glanced up and saw Sally’s look of alarm.
“A gentle rain shouldn’t be a problem,” he said. “I’d say leave the bucket where it is until morning, though.”
She nodded. “Normally I like the sound of raindrops. But not when they’re coming through the roof of my school.”
“Possessive, aren’t you?”
“I guess I am. I’ve been teaching long enough to feel as if it’s mine.”
“I can understand that.” He glanced across the rows of desks. “Looks like you have more little ones than older scholars this year.”
“Yah. It makes it difficult to hold the interest of the older ones when there are so few. But I’ve found they respond well when I gear their work to what they want to do after leaving school.”
The intent look on her face fascinated him. More to see it again than because he was interested in educational theory, he pursued the idea.
“How do you do that? Not bringing in lessons in milking, are you?”
“Very funny.” She made a face at him. “No, I stress the importance of knowing how to keep records, figure out profits and assess costs. You might be surprised at all of the book work involved nowadays. If a scholar can see how math and writing will help in his future as a farmer or small business owner, he’s likely to stay interested.”
He found he was looking at her with respect. “If I’d had a teacher like you, I might have paid a bit more attention in school.”
“It’s what I’m meant to do, I think.” She hesitated. “Just as working with horses is what you’re meant to do.” She hurried on before he could speak. “I’m not prying about your job or why you left it. Really.”
“You don’t have to worry. I’m not going to bite your head off again.” He frowned, not because he was angry but because he struggled for words. “I don’t want to talk because it was a bad experience. It left me feeling... I don’t know. Hurt, shamed, I guess. You couldn’t understand.” And just that much was more than he’d ever intended to say.
Sally stood very still, a book in her hands, her gaze on him. “I understand better than you know.” Again she hesitated, almost as if deciding whether she wanted to trust him.
Finally she put the book down and closed the desk. “When I was nineteen, Frederick Yoder asked me to be his wife. You remember him?”
“Freddy Yoder? Isaac’s little brother?”
She nodded. “I said yes. I thought... Ach, I’m not sure I thought at all. My friends were pairing off, and I thought I was in love, too. That can happen easily at that age.”
If Fred Yoder had jilted her—
But she went on. “Two weeks before the wedding, I woke up and realized what I was doing. I liked Fred. I still do. But I didn’t love him, and I couldn’t spend the rest of my life with him.”
He was swamped with sympathy for her. “You couldn’t marry him if you felt that way.”
“No. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us.” Sally took a deep breath. Obviously it still hurt to relive that time. “I told my parents, and I told Fred. It was...hard. But we canceled the plans, told everyone we’d changed our minds.”
“And people gossiped. Wondered.” He could see that happening. It was the reverse side of the caring in a small, close community.
She nodded. “Word got around, of course. A lot of people blamed me. Called me a flirt and worse.” She shrugged, shaking her head. “I survived, thanks to my family. But when it comes to feeling hurt and shamed—yah, I know how that is.”
Her voice shook a little on the last sentence. Moved, he clasped her hands in a comforting grip. Anyone would do the same, he told himself. “I’m sorry. It must have been hard for you.”
“And for Fred,” she added. “But he recovered.” Her voice lightened. “He married Peggy Brandt, and they have twin boys now.”
“And did you recover?” He studied her face, wondering how much of her pert liveliness was meant to hide her feelings.
“Of course.” She said it lightly. Seeming to realize that he still held her hands, she pulled them away. “I learned a lesson. Isn’t that what bad experiences are meant to do? Adults always say that. I learned not to let my head be overruled by my feelings.”
If she really had learned that, he couldn’t help thinking that it was a shame, because if there was ever anyone meant to love and be loved, it surely was Sally.
Chapter Five
Sally decided it was a fine thing that she didn’t see much of Aaron for a couple of days. Had she totally embarrassed him, as well as herself, by telling him about Fred?
He’d been sympathetic, that was certain. She could still feel the warm grip of his hands on hers. But had he realized sh
e was just trying to explain why she could understand his feelings? Or had he thought she was trying to draw attention to herself? Her cheeks burned at the thought.
“Sally, are you going to hand me that butter or stand there holding it until supper?” Elizabeth’s tart voice brought her back to reality in a hurry.
“Sorry. I was thinking.” She handed over the butter, hoping Elizabeth was too busy to wonder what distracted her.
“It must have been something serious to have you that deep in thought. Something about the school? Or that silly horse?”
She should have known better. Elizabeth was never too busy to be curious.
“Yah, something that happened at the school.” That was true enough.
“From what your brother says, they’ll have that new roof on in no time on Saturday. As if he didn’t have enough to do here.”
Sally held her breath for a moment. “Everyone wants to help,” she said, ignoring Elizabeth’s tone. Did she resent the school because she had no children to go there? Somehow the revelation of Elizabeth’s disappointment and pain had her thinking twice about everything she said.
“Well, I think...”
Elizabeth stopped, because Sally was already halfway to the door.
“Aaron’s on his way. I have to get Star ready.” She escaped before Elizabeth could point out that the horse was already in the paddock.
Was she trying to evade Elizabeth or eager to see Aaron? She pushed the question to the back of her mind for consideration later. After all, Aaron was doing her a favor by working with Star. The least she could do was help him.
She reached the paddock at the same time as Aaron. “I wasn’t sure you’d come today. If you have things to do at the farm...”
“Not much.” He bit off the words, frowning. “But speaking of things to do, you don’t need to stay out here. I’m just going to work him on the lunge line again today, anyway.”
He didn’t need her, in other words. Or maybe didn’t want her was closer to the truth.
“Yah, fine.” She could be as snappish as he was. She swung around, but she hadn’t taken more than a step before he said her name.
“Sally, wait. Sorry. I guess I got up on the wrong side of the bed today. Forgive me?”
The contrite tone made her smile. “Of course.”
Not that she believed his mood had anything to do with which side of the bed he’d arisen from. Something was troubling him, but if he didn’t want to tell her, she couldn’t pry.
She’d learned her lesson. No more trying to get him to talk to her, but that didn’t mean she’d ever stop wondering what had happened to him out there in the Englisch world.
Apparently to make up for his bad mood, Aaron talked as he put Star through his paces, explaining the steps he intended to take with the horse.
“He’s responding well to voice commands,” he said after an intensive twenty minutes of work. “Let’s see how he reacts to the unexpected.” He glanced around. “Will anyone care if you break a leafy branch off that lilac bush?”
“Not now. It’d be another story if Mamm’s favorite dark purple lilacs were blooming.” Seeing what he was about, Sally pulled off a long spray and took it to the paddock.
“Gut. Now when I lead him past, wave the branch off to the side.”
Sally obeyed, apprehensive. Sure enough, Star reared at the sight, his eyes rolling. Aaron quieted him with voice and touch.
Catching Sally’s expression, he smiled. “He’ll do much better with blinders on. I just wanted to see if that side view was what set him off.”
They went on to take turns leading Star past a variety of objects. Once he’d settled down, Aaron led him out of the paddock and over to where the buggies were parked, talking casually.
Star stopped, his ears pricking forward, but then he responded to that low, steady voice and walked on. Sally, following, decided it was not too surprising. If Aaron spoke to her in that warm, soft tone, she’d probably do the same.
When they’d circled all the buggies several times, Aaron stopped, letting the rope go slack. Star, apparently deciding he was done, dropped his head and began cropping the grass.
“That’ll do for today.” Aaron patted the gelding on the shoulder, but his gaze was on Sally. “He’s coming along better than I feared. Next time we’ll try working him with parts of the harness on. After school all right?”
“I can’t be here then.” She felt a sharp pang of regret. “Some of the women are coming to help me cover everything in the schoolhouse to prepare for the roof project the next day.”
“You don’t trust us not to make a mess, in other words.” He gave her his rare smile. “You’re probably wise. Okay if I work Star anyway?”
“Yah, for sure.” She swallowed disappointment. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been looking forward to these sessions. Well, there was nothing wrong with that, was there? It was natural to want to spend time with an old friend after all these years.
She was still telling herself that when she waved goodbye to Aaron and headed back to the house and paused to wash her hands at the outside sink. Elizabeth wouldn’t want hands smelling like horse in her kitchen.
Elizabeth was setting the table for supper, and she hurried to take the plates.
“I’ll take care of that, Elizabeth. I haven’t been around much to help you lately.”
“You have your work to keep you busy.” Elizabeth’s normally ruddy face grew a bit redder. “But spending so much time with Aaron King—that’s not your job, and it certain sure isn’t a gut idea.”
Sally counted to five before she spoke. “Aaron is training Star for me without charging. The least I can do is help him, ain’t so?”
“Ach, Sally, don’t you see what’s happening to you? You’re always so sensible about men since what happened with Fred, but you flew out of here like a bird when you saw Aaron coming. Don’t bother to tell me you’re not attracted to him, because I wouldn’t believe it.”
Only the fact that there was genuine concern behind Elizabeth’s sharp voice kept Sally from flaring out at her. This time she counted to ten.
“Aaron is an old friend. If I can do something to ease his way back into Amish life, I should do it.”
“What makes you think he wants back into Amish life?” Elizabeth planted her hands on her hips. “He ran away before because he wanted the excitement out in the world. What happens when he starts wanting excitement again?”
“Maybe he won’t.”
“And maybe he will. You spending time with Aaron is just going to make folks talk. If you don’t care about that, your brother and I have to, or what would your mamm and daad say?” Her face softened in time to avert an explosion on Sally’s part. “Think about it, Sally. And then about how you’d feel if you gave your heart to him and he went away again.”
“That’s nonsense.” She couldn’t listen to any more. “I’m not going to give my heart to anyone. I’m not that foolish, no matter what you think.”
Brave words. A month ago she’d have meant them. Unfortunately, she wasn’t sure they were true any longer.
* * *
Every family in the church district naturally wanted to participate in putting the new roof on their school. Aaron and his brothers and Zeb managed to be the first to arrive on Saturday morning, but a steady stream of wagons and buggies pulled in behind them.
Aaron glanced over the line of buggies. “Almost looks like a church Sunday. We’ll have plenty of helpers.”
“For sure. We’ll get it done in no time.” Daniel grinned. “We have enough help that Onkel Zeb doesn’t need to go up on the roof.”
Zeb gave him a mock glare. “Don’t you go saying I’m old, Daniel King. I can work as well as the next man.”
“You can, but give the younger guys a chance. They need to show off for their wives and girlfriends, y
ou know.”
Aaron slid down from the wagon and led the buggy horse to the improvised hitching post. A buggy pulled in right next to him, and in moments, the normally quiet school was a hive of activity. Ezra Brandt, who claimed to have raised more barns than any man in the county, took charge of organizing the workers and materials.
It wasn’t long before Aaron had his assignment. He grabbed a pry bar and started up the ladder behind Daniel. If he hung out with his brother the carpenter, he shouldn’t make any foolish mistakes.
Removing the old roof was the first order of business. Shreds of shingles and tar paper began to fly, and Aaron knew Sally had been right to anticipate a mess. Still, no one would leave the site until the school was ready for business again on Monday.
“Done any roofing work while you were away?” Daniel pulled off a long strip of tar paper.
“Nothing like this.” He put his back into pulling out a stubborn nail. “I did a little mending now and then when it was needed. Most of the guys would pitch in wherever something had to be done, although some of them didn’t know one end of a hammer from the other.”
“I trust you showed them.” Caleb, working on the other side of him, surprised him by joining the conversation.
“I tried.” Aaron shrugged. “Seems like growing up on a farm means you learn how to do a lot of things. I took it for granted that everyone does, too, but they don’t.”
“They must know horses, if they worked for a stable,” Daniel said.
“Most of them had some experience,” Aaron admitted. “If they didn’t, the boss figured that out fast and got rid of them. But they weren’t what I’d call handy.”
“I’m glad to know you found some benefit from working on the farm.”
He wasn’t sure if there was sarcasm in Caleb’s comment or not. Remembering what Sally had said about him, Aaron decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.