An Amish Schoolroom

by Amy Clipston

  She looked around and saw many of the people she had met yesterday milling around outside the Keims’ barn.

  “Hi, Micah!”

  Priscilla turned to see Suetta standing near the driver’s side of Micah’s buggy. Up close, the young woman was even prettier and younger than Priscilla thought. With her dark hair and Micah’s blond locks, she had to admit they would make a striking couple. Then a horrible thought occurred to her. Maybe Suetta was already Micah’s girlfriend. Her stomach twisted into a tight knot.

  “I made some double-loaded chocolate brownies last night for lunch today,” Suetta said, smiling at Micah as if he had hung not only the moon but the stars and planets too. “But I forgot them this morning. I was wondering if you could take me home to get them after the church service.”

  Priscilla couldn’t help but inwardly cringe. This lovely young girl’s feelings for Micah were painfully obvious. She has good taste. That’s for sure. Suetta reminded her of a time back when she was sixteen and had been smitten with Paul Raber, who was nineteen at the time. Fortunately, he hadn’t returned any of her awkward attempts at getting his attention, and he ended up marrying his wife six months later. That had been embarrassing to say the least, but like most childhood crushes, she quickly got over it.

  Micah glanced at Priscilla, then looked at Suetta again. “I’m sorry, Suetta, but I have plans right after the service. I’m sure Samuel Yoder wouldn’t mind giving you a lift, though.”

  Suetta scowled. “Never mind. I’ll geh get them myself.” She glared at Priscilla, then flounced away.

  “Sorry about that,” Micah said as he started to get out of the buggy.

  “She likes you.” Envy struck her again, even more so than yesterday when she had seen him and Suetta talking during lunch. She fought to keep her tone even.

  “Nah. She’s just a kinn.”

  “How old is she?”

  He paused, his large body halfway out of the buggy. “Twenty? Twenty-one? I reckon I don’t really know.”

  Priscilla smirked. “She’s too close to yer age for you to be calling her a kinn. Now I can call her a kinn because—” She pressed her lips together. She couldn’t believe she came so close to revealing how old she was. Maybe he wouldn’t notice.

  “Because why?”

  Oh boy. Well, he would find out sooner or later. “Because I’m thirty-five.”

  He shrugged. “Well, we should head for the service or we’ll be late.”

  She gaped at him. Didn’t he care that she was so much older than he was? And then there was the envious knot in her stomach that wouldn’t go away. Great. She was jealous of a girl who was fifteen years younger than her. Pathetic. She hurried to the other side of the buggy. “Did you hear what I said? I’m thirty-five.”

  “I heard you.” He smiled. “Age is just a number.” Then he walked toward the barn.

  She watched him go. If he wasn’t going to make an issue of it, she wouldn’t. Or at least she’d try not to. Trying to focus on the service due to start in a few minutes, she walked inside the church and searched for Leah, the only person she knew well enough in the community to feel comfortable sitting with. She was relieved when she spotted her, but as she walked over, she saw Suetta sitting next to her. These two were friends? Great, just great.

  “Hi, Priscilla,” Leah said, motioning for her to sit down next to her. “You remember mei cousin, Suetta,” she added as Priscilla sat down.

  Cousin? She didn’t recall Leah telling her yesterday that they were related. Leaning forward, she said, “Hi, Suetta.”

  Suetta crossed her arms, her face pinched into an unattractive glower as she stared straight ahead and refused to acknowledge Priscilla.

  The singing started, and as Priscilla stood to sing, making sure to temper her voice so as not to gain anyone’s attention, she thought about what Micah had said about Suetta being a child. She was starting to think he was right. But that didn’t change the fact that the girl liked him or that she was more appropriate for his age . . . and that Priscilla definitely wasn’t. That truth hit her like a buggy at breakneck speed.

  Whatever feelings she had for Micah, she needed to get rid of them, and fast. If she didn’t, she would be in for a world of pain.

  * * *

  After the service, Micah took Priscilla back home. He’d expected to get a little ribbing from Ben when he arrived with her at church, so he ignored his friend and sat on the back pew for the service. He wasn’t in the mood for teasing.

  On the way home from church, he glanced at Priscilla. This morning they had gotten to know each other better, and he’d hoped they would continue that conversation during the return ride. But she was angled away from him, watching the landscape pass by. He couldn’t blame her for enjoying the weather. The temperature was slightly cooler than yesterday, the sparse clouds helping to temper the hot sunshine. Birds chirped and sang, the grasses and lawns were a deep, vibrant green, and the air was refreshing.

  Or maybe Priscilla just made everything better.

  Still, there was something different from the ride this morning to the one now, and he couldn’t figure out what it was. The drawn-out silence made him ill at ease, so he said, “Nice weather today, ya?” Small talk seemed so superficial compared to their conversation this morning, but he didn’t know what else to say.

  “It’s nice.”

  Oh boy. She had a bee in her bonnet for sure. His mother would get like this when she was irritated with Daed, although to her credit she often got over things quickly. Micah had inherited that trait from her. “Priscilla, did I do something wrong?”

  She turned to him, a surprised expression on her face. “Of course not.” She sighed and faced forward. “Yer the nicest man I’ve ever met.”

  He shifted in his seat. Women didn’t make sense sometimes. “That’s a problem?”

  Shaking her head, she looked at him again, and this time there was a slight smile on her lips. “Nee. And you’re right, it is a nice day. That’s something I missed when I was in . . .” She glanced at her lap. “Never mind.”

  He wondered why she hadn’t finished her statement, but he also wasn’t the kind of man to pry into someone else’s business. They were close to her house anyway, and a few minutes later he pulled into her driveway and brought Billy to a halt. When he saw her house, he remembered the long list of things she said she had to get done. She shouldn’t have to do all the work herself, and he couldn’t abide letting her. “I’ll be finished with the buggy this week,” he said, still holding onto the reins, but relaxing his grip. “After that, I can help you with some of those renovations you were talking about yesterday.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t ask you to do that. I’ll get them done in the future.” She smiled, this time a full one. “I appreciate the offer, though.”

  Wow, she was so pretty. He even liked the tiny lines around her eyes when she smiled. He didn’t care that she was ten years older than him. She was beautiful. And she was turning him down again. “I don’t mind,” he said quickly. “Like I said, business is slow right now. I need something to fill mei time. Besides, that would free you up to work on your planning and stuff for school.”

  “But it’s a lot of work—”

  “I like working.” Especially when you’re near. He bit the inside of his cheek, reminding himself that his interest was one-sided. “It’s mei Christian duty to help you out,” he said, hoping that putting his offer in that perspective would make her reconsider. That wasn’t his primary reason, of course, but it was also true. “I could take a look and see what needs to be done at least.”

  Priscilla paused. “All right. You’ll probably change your mind after that.”

  He knew he wouldn’t, but he nodded anyway. He drove his horse closer to the house until he was in front of the garage door.

  “I plan to have a small barn in the back,” she said. “When I first moved in, I tried finding someone to build it, but knowing that the community was building the schoolhaus, I didn�
�t want to ask anyone in Marigold. When I tried some other nearby businesses, they were busy. There is one other place I plan to call tomorrow, though.”

  Her explanation didn’t make much sense to him. So what if the community was building the school? Micah knew they would pitch in to build the teacher a barn too. What kind of community did she come from in Shipshe that she didn’t think she could depend on them?

  He got out of the buggy and unhitched Billy. As he followed her to the backyard, he decided he would take care of building the barn for her. From what he guessed, she needed one big enough for the horse and maybe an awning next to it to shelter the buggy. That wouldn’t take too long to build, and if Christopher was available, they could get it done in a few hours. He made a mental note to mention it to her later.

  While Billy munched on the grass in the fenced-in backyard, Priscilla showed him where she planned to have the barn. Then she gave him the grand tour of the backyard, which included a shaded, concrete patio. She didn’t have any patio furniture, but he saw a pile of hay bales stacked up against the house and well underneath the short roof overhang in case of rain. “I bought them at the same auction where I got mei horse,” she said. “They were on sale, so I got a gut deal.”

  He was glad to see she had started a supply, but she would have to get more once winter set in. “I’ll make sure the barn has plenty of storage space.”

  “Wait a minute,” she said, holding up her hand. “I didn’t agree to you building the barn or doing anything else around here.”

  No one could call Priscilla Helmuth a pushover, that was for sure. “You’re a practical woman, ya?”

  She lifted her chin. “I like to think so.”

  “Then think about this practically. You need a barn. I’m willing to build you one. Not only that, but I can do it at a gut price and get it done quickly. You saw me working on the schoolhaus. I take any job I do seriously, and I always do mei best. You may not find that in an English company.”

  Her gaze held his, defiance in her eyes. Then she nodded. “You’re right. Okay, I give. You can build the barn.”

  He grinned. “Danki.”

  Priscilla laughed. “I should be thanking you . . . so, danki.” She tapped her chin. “I’ve never had a barn built before. Mei daed has, of course, but this is the first one I’ve owned. I guess the next step is to figure out the size.”

  “I can help with that too.” He walked over to her and put his hands in the pockets of his black pants and explained his ideas.

  “That sounds perfect. Are you sure it’s not too much work?”

  “I’m sure, Priscilla.” He met her gaze with a direct one of his own. “I helped mei daed build our barn back in Lancaster. It was larger than yours, but it didn’t take long to put up. Mei daed called me his workhorse.”

  Frowning, she said, “That doesn’t sound nice.”

  “Oh, I didn’t mind because he was right. I liked working on the barn and taking care of the animals. It was mei job to get them settled for the night.”

  “I wondered if they enjoyed listening to your harmonica music,” she said, walking over to the stack of bales. Then she turned around. “I imagine it would have been soothing to them.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that. They never voiced an opinion one way or another.”

  She laughed. Then she looked up at him and met his gaze with a smile. “Maybe you could try it on mei horse sometime?”

  His heart did a tiny flip. “Only if you sing with me.”

  Chapter 5

  So much for getting rid of mei feelings . . .

  Priscilla hadn’t been this comfortable or happy with anyone in a long time, with the exception of her family. It felt good to laugh, to not have to judge Micah’s motives and guess how he was going to use her to get ahead, or worry that she was saying or doing the wrong thing around him. She hadn’t realized how much she had walked on eggshells while she was in Nashville, or how much she was willing to put up with to reach her dream. How many men would offer to build a barn for someone they barely knew? Then again, she felt like she’d known him forever. Maybe he felt that way too.

  Now he was asking her to sing with him, and although the right thing to do would be to turn him down, she couldn’t. She nodded, then gestured to one of the two hay bales that wasn’t in the stack. She sat down, making sure to give him enough room. Then she asked, “Did you bring your harmonica with you?”

  “Ya.” He looked a little sheepish as he pulled the harmonica out of his pocket. “I was hoping I’d get the chance to play again.” He glanced at the empty seat beside her for a second, then sat down.

  Due to his large size, his knee almost touched hers, but she didn’t move over. Instead she glanced around. Her little house had more than an acre of property, even though it was almost all overgrown. The next nearest house was several blocks away. She and Micah would have privacy as they sang and played. “Do you take requests?” she asked.

  “Nee one’s ever asked before. I gotta admit, though, I don’t have a large repertoire of songs.”

  When he grinned, she noticed the right side of his top lip curled a little higher than the rest of his mouth, but that was something she could only see when they were this close to each other. “That’s okay. You just start playing and I’ll come up with something.”

  Micah paused for a moment, then lifted his harmonica to his mouth. Soon he was playing another melancholy tune. Oddly enough, instead of filling her with sadness, her heart grew light listening to the beautiful song. Like she had last night, she started to hum, adding a light melody to the somber notes.

  When they finished the song, he asked, “How do you do that?”

  “Hum?”

  “Nee.” His blond brows knitted together. “Come up with the perfect melody?”

  She breathed out a sigh. She’d known when she moved here that people would want to get to know her better, but she hadn’t expected to divulge anything so soon. Yet she couldn’t hold back the truth from him. “I used to be a singer,” she said.

  “Like in the shower?” he joked.

  Priscilla shook her head. Of course he wouldn’t expect her to be a professional, or even sing solo in church, which was forbidden due to the attention-drawing aspect. “When I was eighteen, I wanted to be a famous country singer.” She glanced at him, expecting to see shock on his face.

  Instead he nodded, as if what she had revealed wasn’t a surprise at all. “Geh on.”

  “I hadn’t joined the church yet, but all mei friends had, and mei parents were expecting me to.” She dug the heels of her hands into the prickly hay bale. “But there was something inside of me that wanted to be a star. I know it sounds silly and prideful, and it was. Still, I couldn’t get the idea out of mei mind, enough that I couldn’t sleep or eat. I had to make a choice.” She turned to Micah. “I chose the world.”

  “Where did you geh?”

  “Nashville. I lived there for fifteen years trying to make it. I cut some demos—those are recordings that mei agent used to help me get signed with a record company or to get some airplay on the local radio stations. That didn’t work out, so I ended up doing a lot of gig work.”

  He took off his black hat and batted at a fly. “What’s that?”

  “Singing jobs that were usually for one night or maybe a week. I did a lot of backup singing. Rarely any solo work.” She turned to him, her face heating. “I might have had a gut voice in Shipshe, but I was nix special in Nashville.”

  “Your voice isn’t just gut,” he said, angling his body toward her. He set his hat in his lap. “It’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.”

  “You must not get out much,” she mumbled, averting her gaze but unable to stop from looking at him again. From the sincerity in his eyes, she could see he wasn’t flattering her, and she shouldn’t expect him to. She knew he wasn’t the type of man to engage in empty compliments.

  Micah frowned. “I don’t get to places like Nashville. That’s true. But
I know what sounds gut and what I like.”

  A pleasant shiver slipped down her spine. His simple words meant more than any praise she’d gotten from other musicians, some who had been supportive of her. Even her agent hadn’t criticized her talent, only her circumstances. “It’s a matter of timing and luck in this business,” he’d said after representing her for five years . . . and before ending their contractual agreement. After that she had been on her own and wasn’t any more successful.

  “What made you come back to the Amish?” Micah asked.

  She threaded her fingers together. “For the first few years, I was so focused on mei goal that I didn’t realize how miserable I was. The last two years I was in Nashville, I cried every time I received a letter from home. I finally realized that God wanted me to go back to mei faith. I would never become famous because I wasn’t meant to. I’m meant to be Amish and to do something else.”

  “Like teaching?”

  “Ya. When I was considering joining the church before I left Shipshe, I wanted to be a teacher. I taught voice lessons on the side for years in Nashville—I enjoyed that much more than getting on stage and singing in front of a group of people. I still feel that way, which is proof that I’m where God wants me to be. Becoming a famous singer was what I wanted, or so I thought. The truth is that fame and fortune weren’t what God wanted for me.”

  Micah rolled the harmonica in his hand, and Priscilla could tell it was a habit of his when he was thinking. “That’s quite a story,” he finally said.

  She tensed. Had she read him wrong? Did he think she was weird? Or worse, that she was bad news? “When I left Nashville, I left mei worldly life behind,” she said, wanting to reassure him that she wasn’t about to take off again. She was older, wiser, and knew better. “There isn’t anything there for me. I hope you believe that.”