by Marta Perry
Levi nodded. “That’s most likely true. I don’t doubt it will, so long as he gets it done soon.”
“You’ll have all the parents at the school for the program the last day,” Lemuel added. “If he can have a good bit of it done, that’s a chance to show it off.”
“But that means he’ll be working there while school’s still going on.” Betsy was the only one to look as if she disapproved of the idea.
“That’s not a problem. He’ll be out back, and the scholars won’t hear much.” Dorcas gave a wry smile. “They’ll drive him crazy with questions at recess if I give them a chance, though.”
“I wouldn’t think you’d want him there at the school all the time with you.”
That was what Dorcas had been thinking, but how did Betsy know?
Betsy’s talk flowed on. “I mean, think of his reputation. You wouldn’t want folks to start talking. Isn’t that right, Levi?”
The appeal left her husband gaping, showing only too well that he didn’t know how to answer.
Dorcas found her temper fraying. She wouldn’t say anything to Betsy, but if her brother dared to lecture her—
“That’s foolish,” Lemuel said bluntly. “Thomas is a grown man now. Nobody thinks about what any of us did when we were teenagers, and it’s a gut thing, too, or we’d all be in trouble, ain’t so?”
Levi grinned, obviously remembering, and then he sobered when he looked at his wife. “I don’t think we need to worry,” he mumbled, and Betsy clouded up at his lack of support.
Dorcas didn’t know whether she was more annoyed or dismayed. She hadn’t intended to cause any family strife. She didn’t believe that other people would react to Thomas that way. She was just concerned about how she would.
* * *
—
For about the first time since he’d returned to Promise Glen, Thomas felt as if he belonged when he reached home. He drove the buggy horse up to the barn without a second thought and hopped down to perform the familiar tasks of putting the harness away properly and tending to the gelding Daad had let him use for the time being.
He had a job to do, and it was one that held the promise of a future back here where he belonged. Even though he wouldn’t be earning, he had saved enough to carry him through until his business picked up. He wouldn’t be living off Mammi and Daad.
Thanks to Dorcas. He smiled, mentally vowing to stop teasing her so much. The trouble was that she made it just too easy. He always had known what her every expression meant, and it seemed he still did.
But he had to treat this job in a professional manner, and that meant no teasing. Or at least, as little as he could get away with. It wouldn’t be in his nature to turn solemn all of a sudden.
Seeing that the milking was still in progress, he walked through the barn to the milking shed. Once again, as he’d done all week, Jonas ignored him. His father gave him a short nod, and Adam thrust a milking stool in his direction.
With all of them working, the milking went quickly enough. When he carried his full pail back to the cooling tank, Jonas was just turning away from it. He reached out for the bucket Thomas held.
“I’ll do it.”
“No problem,” Thomas said. “I can finish up.”
Jonas still stood in the way, glaring at him. A pang went through Thomas. What had happened to the little brother he’d left behind?
Moving aside grudgingly, Jonas watched his every movement and then slammed the lid closed. “You don’t need to help. We get along fine without you.”
Thomas felt as if Jonas had slammed him, too. His temper simmered, but he wouldn’t set it free. If there was going to be an open breach between the two of them, he wouldn’t be the one who started it.
“I’m sure you did,” he said mildly.
It didn’t seem to matter what he said; Jonas didn’t like any of it. His fists clenched, and he looked about ready to explode.
“Jonas.” Daad’s voice cut through the tension. “Go and help your brother hose down.”
Jonas didn’t move for an instant. Then he turned and walked away without a word.
“Sorry.” Thomas blew out a breath. “I guess Jonas would rather not see me around all day. He’s about to get his wish. I’ve picked up a job repairing the shed and the stable at the schoolhouse.”
If Daad was surprised, he didn’t show it. “That storm last month did a lot of damage. I don’t think the school board can pay much.”
“Nothing, actually. I’m doing the labor, and they’re supplying the lumber.” He hesitated, unable to make out what his father thought of it. “I thought it’d be a way to show folks what I can do. Onkel James always says you should point to what you have done if you’re trying to get new work.”
Daad nodded, his expression easing. “I always did think James was a good man of business. Sounds like he taught you well.”
Thomas hesitated, not wanting to push his luck too far, but encouraged by his father’s reaction. It was true, so why not say it. “It was the best thing for me, heading out to Ohio.” Maybe saying thanks would be going too far, so he left it at that. After all, it had been intended as punishment, not reward.
Daad didn’t move for a second. Then he nodded again. “Gut.” He seemed to think he’d said enough, and he headed back into the milking shed.
That almost sounded like approval. Or maybe he would just be glad to have Thomas out from underfoot.
He couldn’t quite believe that, or maybe he didn’t want to. Still, he supposed he could cause Daad more embarrassment out in public than he could at home, so Daad must trust him a little.
Heartened, he went on to the next chore, which happened to be fixing fence wire in one of the pastures. At least with Adam he could relax. Everything Adam thought showed on his face, and he seemed to take Thomas’s return as a matter of course.
For a second he wondered if his little brother had taken his leaving the same way. Then he shook off the thought and set about stringing the new wire.
Adam seemed full of plans for the singing that was coming up on Sunday evening. But instead of looking forward to chatting up the girls, Adam seemed intent on what games they were going to play.
“Some of us guys wanted to play corner ball, but the girls didn’t like that. They’d be afraid of getting messy.” He said it in a contemptuous tone that showed what he thought of girls at this point.
“Sounds like you don’t want to please the girls,” Thomas said, pulling the wire taut.
Adam gaped at him. “Why would I want to please them? All they do is chatter and giggle every time we all get together. We’d have a better time without them.”
“Just wait a year or so. You’ll figure out the attraction of having a girl think you’re pretty special.”
“Not me,” Adam said with emphasis. “Nobody’s going to catch me settling down before I’ve had some fun.” That seemed to remind him of something, and his hands slowed. “Listen, Thomas, how about finishing this for me? I’ll do something for you in exchange.”
He didn’t mind, but he guessed he ought to find out what Adam planned. The boy wore an expression too innocent to be believed.
“You have a date?” He grinned at Adam’s reaction. “Never mind thinking up a convenient excuse. I’ve used them all in my time.”
Adam shrugged, not looking at him. “I’m just going to meet a guy and hang out. That’s all.” Then he met Thomas’s gaze, saw the doubt there, and smiled, eyes crinkling. “If you must know, he’s Englisch. He’s a friend of mine. We’re not doing anything bad, but Daad wouldn’t understand.”
“And you figure I will, since I wasn’t exactly a saint when I was your age. Right?”
“Right.” He looked relieved. “You won’t tell, will you?” He was already dropping things into the toolbox, taking Thomas’s answer for granted.
“Ho
ld on.” Thomas thought fast. He didn’t want to lose his relationship with Adam, but . . . “I’m not going to lie for you.”
“You won’t need to.” Adam dismissed that with an airy gesture. “I’m meeting a friend, that’s all. And I’ll be home by sundown. Promise.”
Given how early sundown still was, he didn’t suppose there was much harm in it. Besides, what choice did he have?
There seemed nothing to do but nod agreement, but as Adam scooted, Thomas couldn’t get rid of an uneasy feeling. He’d thought he understood his little brother. Seemed like he’d been wrong.
* * *
—
“We’ve made a fine start on the program,” Dorcas said the next afternoon. She and Anna had stayed at school to work on the spring program after the scholars had left.
Anna looked at the papers Dorcas had swept into a stack. “I never realized how much work goes into setting up something like this program. Do you think we’re starting in time?”
“Oh, I think so. We can’t drag on the practices for too long, or the scholars get bored and start doing worse instead of better. This is the hardest part, especially finding something that hasn’t been done over and over. It was nice of Ruth Schutz over at the Oak Creek school to trade programs with me.”
Ruth was a fine teacher, and she’d been a great help to Dorcas when she was just starting out. Still, that didn’t mean Dorcas wanted to lose her scholars to the Oak Creek School.
When Anna continued to look doubtful, Dorcas had to chuckle. “Don’t worry. It will come together. We don’t want to start the scholars on it until we’ve worked it all out ourselves. They’re starting to get spring fever already.”
Anna nodded. “I’ve noticed it. I can’t believe we behaved that badly when we were that age.”
Dorcas chuckled. “You did, believe me.”
Her helper responded by blushing. “Did you hear Esther today, bragging about how her bruder is going to rebuild the stable and the shed? She says he’s going to let her help him.”
“I hadn’t heard that part.” Dorcas felt a wave of concern at the idea. “I’ll have to talk to Thomas about it. We certain sure don’t want any of the scholars to get hurt on school grounds. Or anywhere else, for that matter, but we’re responsible for them here.”
“Esther isn’t the most coordinated child, either,” Anna said, and then looked as if she wondered whether she should have.
“All girls seem to be at that age. The boys will start getting awkward a little later, when they hit a growing spurt.” She stuffed the papers into her bag, rising. “I’ll need to go to the library to make copies of parts. Maybe I can do them all on Saturday, if we finish up tomorrow.”
“Yah, good.” Anna glanced at the clock and started for the door. “I’ll tell my mamm that I’ll be a little late again tomorrow, yah?”
Dorcas nodded, her thoughts already racing to the completion of the project. The kinder would be so eager to start practicing, at least at first, and it would use up some of their extra energy.
She was just glad that Thomas hadn’t shown up today. Maybe she’d have a few days’ respite before he started intruding on her school.
When they stepped out onto the porch, she realized she’d thought too soon. Thomas, driving a wagon filled with lumber, raised his hand in greeting and drove past them toward the stable.
Anna gave her an inquiring look.
“You go ahead, Anna. I’ll stay a few minutes and speak to Thomas about Esther. We’d best deal with that before it starts or there’ll be trouble.”
Nodding, Anna headed for the lane that led to the Stoltzfus farm, while Dorcas followed Thomas, mentally composing the quickest way of dealing with the situation. She’d best not hang around long, giving Betsy an opportunity to worry about her reputation any further. Rolling her eyes at the thought of her sister-in-law, she approached Thomas, who was unloading.
He paused and looked at her. “What about Esther?”
She blinked. “Did you hear what I said to Anna clear back here?” She’d assumed he was out of earshot.
“I have sharp ears,” he said. “So what is my little sister up to that she shouldn’t be?”
“Nothing yet.” She softened the words with a smile. “I’m worried about what she’s talking about doing. She’s been bragging a bit about you working on the stable, and she says she’s going to help you.”
“You didn’t think I’d let her climb around on the rafters, did you?” He raised his eyebrows.
“No, of course not. But I’m responsible for all of the kinder when they’re on school grounds, and the idea of her doing any such thing—”
Thomas leaned against the wagon, arms folded over his chest. “Do you want to know what I really said when she asked if she could help me?”
“Please.” She couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or not.
“I said, ‘We’ll see.’ Seems like Esther heard what she wanted to hear.”
He sounded so frustrated that she had to hold back a laugh. “I’m afraid they all do that sometimes. We probably did, too.”
“I guess. I just wasn’t ready to find my baby sister so . . . well, different. She’s not grown up yet, but she’s surely not the child I remember.”
Now Dorcas did laugh. “Wilkom to the group. At this age, kinder are impossible to predict. They don’t know themselves whether they’re kids or grown-ups. Or even which they want to be.”
“I guess that’s true.” He looked rueful. “Funny. I thought I’d come back and find everything the same. I mean, I knew in my head that the young ones would be growing—it’s my heart that’s having problems with it. Truth is, I just didn’t realize how hard it would be to find my place again.”
“I’m sorry.” She realized that now, at least, he wasn’t teasing or joking. He really was a bit baffled. “Just . . . give it time. You can’t catch up in a week. It will come.”
Thomas studied her face for so long that she was afraid she was blushing. “You’re a gut example for those kinder, Dorcas. You’ve grown up, too.”
“I’m not so sure about the example part of it.” She felt stuck, knowing that she needed to thank him for what he’d done for her and yet unable to find the words to start. “But I do care about them, and I want to give them the very best I can.”
His face crinkled in a way that was such an echo of the past that she felt her heart thump.
Stop it. You can’t lose your head, not where Thomas is concerned. Remember he has the power to mess up your life completely, just through a careless word.
“I do believe you’ve grown up, Dorcas.”
“Not enough.” She took a deep breath and then blew it out, trying to say what she needed to. “I owe you something, Thomas.” She looked down at his hands, braced against the wagon. “I never thanked you for what you did. You ended up carrying the blame and being sent away, and I got off free.”
It felt as if she’d thrown off a heavy burden. But then he didn’t speak, and her tension began to build. What was he thinking? When he did speak, it was the last thing she could have expected.
“Remember the story of Joseph and his brothers? How they sold him into slavery in Egypt, but years later he was able to save them and a whole country because of it?”
“I remember.” But I don’t understand, she might as well have added.
Thomas’s lips curled in that teasing smile. “Then you must remember what he said . . . how they meant it for evil, but God meant it for good.”
She wrestled with that for a moment, wondering if he was equating her with the jealous brothers. “I didn’t mean . . .”
“Ach, I know you weren’t trying to do wrong to me. But it turned out the same in a funny way. I went out to live with my aunt and uncle, and I got a whole new way of looking at things. Unlike my father, my uncle didn’t expect me to be a saint, but he di
d expect me to be useful. Thanks to him, I learned a craft that will keep me the rest of my life. So you don’t need to thank me, Dorcas. I should thank you.”
She shook her head, feeling tears sting her eyes and knowing she couldn’t give way. She stared down at the ground, afraid to look at him.
She felt Thomas clasp her hand, just for a moment, and she was swept by a feeling she didn’t want to recognize. She managed to step back, to find a smile.
“Maybe we’re even. That night made me grow up, and I realized what terrible chances I’d been taking. But I was fortunate, because I had a friend like you.” Dorcas fell silent, wondering how to get away from the unaccountable tenderness of the moment.
She tried to rally. Focusing on the lumber he’d been unloading instead of on his face, she shook her head.
“Mind you be careful when you’re climbing around the stable. If you got hurt, I’d be responsible for you, too.”
Thomas turned, pulling out another armload of boards. “You don’t need to be. One thing I learned a long time ago is that we’re each responsible for ourselves.”
She waited for more, but that seemed to be all Thomas had to say. Was he implying that she hadn’t taken responsibility for herself that night? That was true enough, but she didn’t like the idea that he thought that about her.
Still, there wasn’t a thing she could do about it. Dorcas turned to leave, only to discover that Lydia Gaus, mother of two of her scholars, was standing a few feet away, staring at them.
CHAPTER FIVE
Lydia.” Did she sound guilty? She wasn’t sure. She certainly shouldn’t be, but she didn’t care for the way Lydia was staring at her. “If you’ve come to pick up Hallie and Erna, they left with the rest of the children.” She moved casually away from Thomas and toward Lydia.
“Ach, no, it was just that they told me about planning the end of school program. Erna is certain sure excited about it. After all, it’s her last year.”
“Of course.” She walked toward the school building, compelling Lydia to follow. She was still wondering about the reason for this unexpected visit. “Erna has been a wonderful gut scholar. We’ll miss her next year.”