by Marta Perry
Daad gave her a hand getting up, and they headed toward the house, with her carrying Allie. Daad gestured, offering to carry her, but feeling how tightly Allie still clung, Cathy shook her head. She was a light enough burden.
When they reached the kitchen, Mamm seemed to take in the situation at a glance. She pulled out a chair, and Cathy sank into it, setting Allie on her lap.
“Allie, this is my mamm and my daad. Mammi, I think Allie could do with a glass of milk.”
“For sure.” Her mother hustled to bring it. “And I have some chocolate chip cookies, just baked this morning. You and Allie can have a little snack together.”
The sobs had stopped altogether on the way to the house. Now Allie stirred at the mention of cookies. She sat up, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands. Cathy and Mamm exchanged glances. It was going to be all right.
Cathy waited until Allie had had a gulp of milk and nibbled a few bites of cookie before she ventured to ask a question.
“Were you trying to find me when you went in the barn, Allie?”
Allie nodded, glancing at her warily.
“That’s fine. You are wilkom here anytime. I was in the strawberry patch, so if you’d come a little farther, you’d have seen me.”
She paused, longing to have answers but not sure exactly how to ask. Maybe it was best to circle nearer the central question of why she was here.
“Did something happen to scare you that made you hide?”
Allie gave a convulsive jerk, the whites of her eyes showing. Cathy hugged her a bit closer.
“Can you tell me what it was? Maybe we can help.”
“I—I was coming on the path, but—but it was dark in the trees. And I was afraid I missed the way.”
Cathy patted her back, feeling convinced there was more. “That would be scary.”
“It wasn’t that.” The words came out in a sudden burst. “I heard something. And then a big bird flew down right over my head, and it scared me, so I started to run. And then I saw the barn and I ran inside, ’cause I thought it wouldn’t come there. But it swooped right inside, so I hid.” The tears threatened to spill over again.
“Swallows,” Daad muttered.
“I think you must have seen a barn swallow.” Was it safe to smile a little? “It didn’t mean any harm. That’s how they fly. They swoop down and fly up.” She illustrated with her hand. “They have a nest in the barn. Maybe it was a mama bird, trying to bring some food for her babies.”
Allie held back her tears. “Do you think so?”
“Well, it could be.” She had to be honest. “I know they have a nest up in the rafters, but I haven’t been able to see any baby birds in it.”
“Ach, they are there,” Daad said quietly. “I heard them cheeping this morning.”
“There now, you see? It was scary, but you’re not scared now, are you?”
“N-no. But...”
“But there was some reason why you came looking for me, yah?”
Allie nodded. She sniffed and rubbed her eyes. “I heard what Daadi said. The grown-ups were talking, but I heard Daadi. He said we’d have to go away.” The tears spilled over in a rush. “But I don’t want to go. And I tore the bottom of my dress and it really belongs to Ruthie!” She gave herself up to the sobs.
So that was it. What was Michael thinking, to let his child hear him saying something so upsetting? Well, to be honest, it sounded as if they hadn’t realized Allie was listening, but he still should have been more careful. The idea of leaving now that she’d found a safe haven was obviously terrifying to Allie, and no wonder.
The comforting had to be done all over again. Then Mamm, always sensible, got out a needle and a spool of thread.
“Now, then, Allie. One thing at a time. Let’s fix your dress, all right? Then maybe Teacher Cathy can talk to your daadi and make it better.”
Cathy would like to argue her ability to make this better, but Mamm had the right idea. One problem at a time.
Fortunately, Allie was more easily distracted from her crying this time. Once Mamm started threading her needle and talking about how they’d fix the dress, the tears vanished. She even slid off Cathy’s lap to hold the dress up by the hem so Mamm could begin stitching it.
Seeing her occupied, Cathy got up, glancing at her father. He jerked his head toward the door, and she followed him out to the porch.
“They’ll be fearful, not knowing where the child is,” he said. “You’d best stay here in case she gets upset again. I’ll walk over to Verna’s and tell them she’s safe.”
“Denke, Daadi. Maybe that will give me time to think what I can say to Michael Forster.”
Daad patted her shoulder. “You’ll find the words when you need them,” he said. Then he strode off toward the path that led to Verna’s property.
She stood, staring after him, trying to think. Michael would be upset...probably both because Allie had heard but also because she’d turned to Cathy. Surely there wasn’t anything so urgent that he had to wrest Allie away when she was just starting to feel secure.
She was staring absently at the point where the path vanished into the trees when she saw Daad reappear. He wasn’t alone—Michael rushed past him. They must have met up almost immediately. And that meant she had no time to think of the right words to say. She could only trust that they’d come to her.
* * *
MICHAEL LOOKED UP and saw Cathy on the back porch. The first thing that entered his head was that of course Allie would have gone to her with her trouble. Love and concern seemed to radiate from her, and Allie had responded on instinct.
He’d run along the path through the woods like a crazy person, afraid of what he might find. He’d nearly run right into Eli Brandt. Allie was all right. She was. But he had to see for himself.
Cathy came a little way to meet him. As soon as he was in range, he blurted the important questions. “Where is she? You’re sure she’s all right?”
“In the kitchen. Yes, I’m certain sure.” But she put up a hand to stop him when he’d have rushed on. “Wait a minute. Just wait.”
“I have to see her.” He brushed her words aside impatiently. “Later—”
“Not later. Now.” Cathy’s voice was soft and even, but there was a note in it that seemed to compel obedience. “I want... No, I need to say something. And you need to be calm before you see Allie. If you rush in, you’ll upset her, and we just got her quieted down.”
“I can control myself. You don’t need to tell me that.” An edge of annoyance sounded in his tone.
“Don’t I?” Cathy smiled, and something in him relaxed.
“All right, maybe I do.” He took a breath. “You’re sure she’s okay?” But he knew the answer. Cathy wouldn’t keep him talking if Allie were hurt.
Still, she was hurt—just not physically. When he thought of Ruthie’s words, he felt a little sick.
“Daad found her in the barn. The barn swallows scared her. You know how they swoop toward their nest. We took her to the house, and she’s had a snack. Right now, she’s helping Mamm sew a little tear in her dress.”
Michael knew what she was doing. She was soothing him with her soft voice and gentle words, just as she’d probably comforted his daughter.
“Did she tell you why she ran off like that?” He supposed she had, but Cathy was safe. She wouldn’t be gossiping about it to anyone.
“Yah, she did. It seems she heard something that upset her very much. You said the two of you would have to move again.”
She just waited, not venturing to point out how wrong it had been to let his child hear it.
“I was upset. Something happened... Well, it doesn’t matter now. But I shouldn’t have spoken—not where she could hear me.” He shook his head. “I’d like to think she’d come to me, but she didn’t. She confided in Ruthie, and Sarah got it
out of her in pretty short order.”
“Sarah’s a fine mother. She knows her kinder inside out.”
The way he ought to know Allie. He managed a wry smile. “Well, Teacher Cathy, can I go in now?”
“Just...just let me say one more thing.” Cathy lost her certainty all at once. “Michael, Allie is finding security here already. Please don’t let that be taken away by foolish people who believe nonsense.”
She didn’t seem to expect him to answer. She just led the way to the house.
When he reached the porch, Michael paused to be sure he was composed. Security, Cathy had said. Surely that was one of the most important things for a child. It ought to be the least he provided for his daughter. He went into the kitchen.
Allie looked up, her face a little apprehensive when she saw him. “Daddy, I...”
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” He moved to the table, exchanging glances with Lydia Brandt. She gave an approving nod and gestured for him to sit.
He took the chair next to Allie, trying to find the words to explain. “I was scared when I didn’t know where you were. But I’m not mad at you.”
She seemed to be measuring his words, and they must have reassured her. “Not at Ruthie either, okay? She was just trying to help.”
He tried not to smile. “That’s between Ruthie and her mammi, but I’m not mad at her either.”
“And I tore my dress,” she said with an air of wanting to clear the slate entirely. She held out the bottom of the dress for his inspection.
“I can’t even see where the tear was.”
He touched her hand, wishing the space between them could be mended so easily. But that was years in the making, and it would take more than a few stitches to do that.
Now he knew where it had to begin. Security, that was what Cathy had said, and she was right. For reasons he couldn’t begin to understand, his daughter had found that here.
He held out his arms to Allie, and she came to him, letting him put his arms around her. “I know what you heard me say, but that was a mistake. Something had made me upset, and I said something silly. People do that sometimes.”
He smoothed her hair back where it had come loose from her braid, letting his hand cup her head. She was so young, so fragile, this daughter of his. He had to do right by her.
“I know you love being here. I do, too.” Somewhat to his surprise, he realized that was true. “So we’re going to stay, even if things sometimes happen that are difficult. Okay?”
He studied the small, serious face. Allie looked up at him, hope in her eyes. “Is it a promise?”
“Yes.” He brushed a kiss on her forehead. “It’s a promise.”
CHAPTER FIVE
CATHY CHECKED THE schoolroom clock. Almost time for recess. Her scholars were already giving her expectant looks—they knew without checking when they were ready for a break. She began the process of sending the younger children to the restroom a grade at a time, knowing they couldn’t be counted on to interrupt their play for that necessity.
Her thoughts returned, as they so often did these days, to Michael and the difficult process of adjustment to his new life. Certainly Allie seemed to be happier, more confident, in the days since her father’s promise. But how difficult was he going to find it to keep that promise?
He hadn’t attended worship on Sunday at Mary’s house, although Verna had brought Allie. To questions, Verna had said he wasn’t ready yet. The answer seemed to satisfy most, at least for the moment. But people would have opinions about it, no matter what he did or didn’t do.
She brushed the thought away. Her concern was only with Allie, and how all of the surrounding factors affected her. Nothing else. It shouldn’t be this difficult to stop thinking about Michael.
A shuffling of feet drew her attention back to the schedule. “All right,” she said, smiling at the waiting class. “You may be dismissed for recess.”
No mad rush to the door, of course. The scholars might be eager, but they knew better than that. She inserted herself into the file of children so that she could keep an eye on Allie. So far there had been no untoward incidents, but the freedom of recess might lead someone to misbehave.
Cathy lingered for a moment in the warm sunshine of the porch steps. Spring, after teasing them with what seemed an unfair share of cold, dreary days, had finally come. There was less than a month of the school year left. Would the school board offer her a new contract or not? They’d have to decide soon, she knew.
Her momentary distraction had been a mistake. She spotted Ruthie and Allie with another of the third graders, Mary Louise Yost. Ruthie, hands planted on her hips, seemed to be confronting Mary Louise.
Cathy hurried her steps. She was in time to hear Mary Louise. “I just asked if Allie was really Amish, that’s all.” She glared back at Ruthie. “I want to know.”
Allie’s expression told Cathy something very clearly. She wanted to know that as well. Cathy’s heart seemed to wince. She opened her mouth to intervene, but Ruthie got in first.
“For sure she’s Amish. She’s my own cousin, and I’m Amish. So she’s Amish. See?”
“Oh.” Mary Louise pondered that for a moment before nodding. “Okay. Let’s go on the swings, yah?”
In a moment the three of them, hands linked, were running toward the swings.
Cathy’s laugh was a bit shaky. She had barely begun to try and figure out the proper response when Ruthie had taken the wind out of her sails. Her reasoning might not make it past a group of ministers and bishops, but it was enough to go on with.
Allie was not yet of an age to make a decision about baptism into the church. She was being raised in an Amish family now, so she was Amish. Michael might not agree, but it would certainly solve problems on the school yard.
Cathy gave an assessing glance around the school yard, looking for any place where her presence was needed. She often joined in the games, but first she liked to be sure all was as it should be.
Her gaze snagged on the glint of sunshine off metal. Eyes narrowing, she tried to make out what she was seeing. It looked as if someone had pulled a car off to the side of the road just beyond the schoolhouse lane, where the trees masked its presence.
Frowning, she strolled toward the perimeter of the school yard. There were probably a hundred innocent reasons for a vehicle to be pulled over at that spot, but it was unusual. She was the sole adult responsible for the forty-some children in her care—and the only one here today. Many days a parent or older sibling would be present, providing help in one way or another, but not today.
Her stomach tightened. She didn’t consider herself a nervous person, but bad things happened everywhere, as the Amish knew to their sorrow. She fingered the cell phone tucked into the pocket sewn onto the underside of her apron. It would connect her in an instant to the police or to the closest Amish business with a phone—the quilt shop run by her close friend, Joanna Kohler. Since someone was always in the shop during school hours, Joanna had agreed to serve as a message center for the school, contacting parents as needed.
Surely the mere presence of a vehicle parked along a public road didn’t call for an emergency reaction. If she saw someone—and then she did. A person—a man, she thought, though it could be a woman in pants—was just visible in the shelter of the trees. Her fingers tightened on the phone as the pulse in her neck began to throb.
Slowly, carefully, don’t alarm him... She moved toward the older children who were kicking a soccer ball. Forcing a smile, she beckoned the two oldest to her, thankful they happened to also be two of the most sensible.
“John, Caleb, I want you to start the kinder moving into the school. Don’t run or act alarmed—I know I can trust you to be calm.” Her own heart pounded against her ribs. “There is someone on the school grounds—no, don’t look around. Just do as I say and don’t alarm anyone.”
&n
bsp; John grasped Caleb firmly by the arm, as if to prevent him from running. “Yah. We’ll do just like you say.” Caleb managed to nod, but he looked scared.
She watched them move toward the others, seeming to overcome argument with a few words. Once they were on their way, she dared look toward the intruder again. Was he carrying something or not? She couldn’t be sure, but the horrific stories of school shootings forced themselves into her mind.
Another step or two, and she could be sure. There was something—something that gave a small metallic glint as he or she moved it. Cathy yanked the phone out, her heart pounding in her ears as she punched 911. She only got out a word or two before the dispatcher was shouting for the chief.
“Stay on the phone.”
Even as the order came through, Cathy turned, mind racing. The last of the children were through the door now. She started to run.
Get to the school, lock and barricade the door, get the children into the supply closet. That was the safest course. Did every teacher think this way when the moment came?
Her racing feet reached the door, where she paused for a quick look back. Nothing. The place where she’d seen the figure held only natural growth, but the branches moved lightly. In the next instant she heard the car’s engine and then the squeal of tires as it sped off.
Behind her, in the schoolroom, someone started to cry. But it was over now, wasn’t it?
* * *
A HECTIC HOUR LATER, the children had all been escorted home—Chief Jamison had insisted on that. Now Cathy sat in her desk chair, feeling oddly boneless. Grouped around her were several parents, a patrolman and Chief Jamison himself.
“It might have been chust a tourist.” Lige Esch spoke in his usual deliberate way. “Sometimes they hear we don’t like our pictures taken so they try to sneak one anyway.”
Lige’s calmness steadied her, and she considered it. “It might have been a camera the person held. I couldn’t see well enough to tell.”