Timothy came walking along the road with long, easy strides. He had his straw hat pulled low on his brow and his hands in his pockets.
“You look deep in thought,” she called out.
He paused and looked up, seemingly surprised to see her. He gave her a sheepish grin. “I was.”
“Care to share?”
“Not really. What did you need to see me about?” He approached the school and took a seat beside her.
She checked to make sure Amanda couldn’t overhear them, and then clasped her hands around her knees. “I’m not sure how to say this, but my brother may have been the Amish man who had an argument with Mr. Hanson. I didn’t want to say anything in front of the fire marshal or sheriff, but I had to tell someone.”
Her family had always been law-abiding, but distrust of Englisch public officials was deeply ingrained and had often been reinforced by her father. Everyone knew that Timothy’s brother Joshua had been wrongly imprisoned by the Englisch law. It could happen to anyone. The Amish were pacifists and did not resist persecution by outsiders.
Timothy leaned close. “I understand your feelings and I’m glad you know you can talk to me.”
“Jeremiah would never try to destroy someone’s property. Never. I know he wouldn’t. You believe that, don’t you?”
“Of course I do. Have you asked him about it?”
She rubbed her palms against each other and wound her fingers tightly together. “He hasn’t been home since yesterday. He was upset about Debra staying with us. He said I shouldn’t have offered, that Father wouldn’t have allowed it. I don’t know how to ask him about the argument without sounding as if I’m accusing him of something. Have you learned anything else about the fire?”
He shook his head. “Not about the Hanson fire, but the fire in Bishop Beachy’s hayfield was also deliberately set. The field was a total loss.”
“Oh, my! How awful for the bishop, and how awful to think there is an arsonist among us.” She wrapped her arms around herself. She wanted to lean against Timothy and draw comfort from his presence, but she knew that wouldn’t be modest behavior. “Do the Englisch officials have any suspects?”
“Not that they are saying, but I know they recovered some evidence. Luke found a small propane torch that had been left beside a haystack. Luke said it was the same kind Emma sells in her hardware store.”
“That doesn’t mean it was left by an Amish fellow. Anyone can buy a canister of propane. The Englisch use propane, too.”
“Burning the bishop’s crop makes it seem like someone has a grudge against him. He has very little contact with outsiders. On the other hand, there have been several people shunned by him in the past year.”
“Shunned by all of us, not just the bishop. I don’t want to believe anyone I know would do such a thing deliberately. It may sound awful, but I hope it turns out to be some Englisch vagrant, or wild teenagers, someone I don’t know.”
“I know what you mean. I feel the same way.”
“I’m sure a collection is being taken up to cover the cost of Bishop Beachy’s loss.”
“Daed and Onkel Vincent are seeing to it.”
The way church members rallied around one of their own in times of trouble was one more wonderful thing about being Amish.
“Was that all you wanted to talk to me about?” Timothy asked, giving her an odd look and then quickly looking away.
If he were one of her students, she would suspect he had done something that he shouldn’t. “Were you expecting me to ask about something else?”
“Nee, I wasn’t. What did you think of Debra’s brother today?”
His question seemed forced, as if he were trying deliberately to change the subject. “Brandon seems like a nice fellow. He certainly likes to talk about corn.”
Timothy chuckled. “That he does, but he caught my interest. I would like to learn more about producing a hybrid seed. The seed companies charge a premium for hybrid corn. It might be worthwhile to study the technique that Brandon uses so we could produce our own improved varieties.”
“He presents it as a practical science, and I’m sure many farmers would be interested in hearing what he has to say.” She leaned back against the riser behind her.
“And learning what he has to teach.”
“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if people like Brandon could present classes to our children?”
He drew back. “You mean invite outsiders into your classroom?”
“Nee, but you know what I’m trying to say. Have those people with special knowledge to pass on come in and teach. I sometimes struggle with teaching the older children science and arithmetic. Sometimes I am afraid I’m cheating my students by not giving them a proper education.”
“You are a fine teacher. You should not doubt yourself. You have a God-given talent.”
“For teaching reading and writing to the little children, but I know I lack the ability to hold the attention of the older ones.”
“Just because Abe Mast is a class cutup doesn’t mean you are a poor teacher.”
“Just inadequate to that challenge.”
Timothy slipped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a shake. “Enough with feeling sorry for yourself. I know you, and if there is a way to do something better, you will find it. You haven’t been teaching that long. Experience counts.”
She managed a smile. “You’re right. I will find a better way even if it takes me years. Thanks for your confidence in my ability.”
“That’s what friends are for.”
She gave in and leaned her head against him. “Thank you for being my friend.”
She wouldn’t allow her feelings for him to get out of hand. Friendship was enough even if there were times when she wished she could offer him more. It wouldn’t be fair to him. She wasn’t meant to be a wife and a mother.
* * *
Timothy breathed in the scent of Lillian. She smelled clean, like spring, like the flowers in his mother’s garden early in the morning. It could be the shampoo she used or the soap she washed her clothes with, but whatever it was, he liked it. He wanted to go on holding her, but she soon moved away and he had to let her go. He clasped his hands together to keep from reaching for her again. After having assured her he was a friend, he couldn’t start acting like a courting fellow.
He needed to turn his mind to other things. Looking down the south side of the building at the charred and smoke-stained wooden siding that had taken the brunt of the fire’s heat, he gestured toward it. “The school needs a coat or two of paint yet.”
“It does. We will also need a horse barn and corral before the weather turns cold. The children and I will clean up the school Monday morning and paint this porch if the weather is nice.”
“I’ll supply the paint and brushes and a ladder or two.”
“As always, your help is appreciated.” She smiled at him, and his heart missed a beat. If he moved a fraction closer, he could kiss her. Would she let him?
The sound of a car slowing down made them glance toward the road. Davey Mast’s red car rolled to a stop beside the school. He stepped out and gave a low whistle. “You sure dodged a bullet, Teacher Lillian.”
Dressed in blue jeans and a plaid shirt and wearing a tan cowboy hat over his blond hair, Davey could have passed for an Englisch man until he spoke. His Pennsylvania Deitsch accent was still strong. Lillian rose to her feet. “It was a near thing. God was good to spare us.”
“Jeremiah told me you had a lot to do with saving the school by having the kids wet down the building. Quick thinking.”
“You have spoken to Jeremiah today?” she asked.
“In passing. I saw him at the hardware store about an hour ago. No need to threaten him with shunning for spending time with a man under the bann.”
; “You would be welcomed back into our church if you gave up your car and repented breaking your vows to live Amish,” Timothy said, still sitting on the steps. “Your own quick thinking spared many homes and farms and we are grateful.”
“Not everyone was grateful.”
From his sour tone, Timothy guessed Davey was referring to his father. “Many people saw what you did and knew it took courage.”
“I had a hot time to be sure. That scorching wind almost turned me into toast. I didn’t factor the fire’s speed into my equation when I got on that tractor. I might have thought twice about doing it and let the rest of the valley go up in smoke.”
“I am glad you didn’t. It shows you have a good heart,” Lillian said quietly.
He touched the brim of his hat. “That’s me. Good-hearted Davey. I’ll let you two lovebirds get back to making out on the school steps. Better be careful, Teacher. I happen to know the school board president would take a dim view of such behavior.”
“Oh, we weren’t...we aren’t...” Lillian sputtered to a stop as Davey gave a loud hoot of laughter.
Timothy caught her hand. “Don’t mind him. He likes to stir up trouble. He always has.”
“Tell your brother Luke I sure miss partying with him. He knew how to have a good time. It’s a shame he’s been brainwashed back into the fold. You might mention there’s a barn party over at Abram Coblentz’s farm tonight and he’s welcome. I’ll have the good stuff there.” With that parting shot, Davey got back in his car and roared away.
Lillian crossed her arms over her chest. “Just when I was starting to feel sorry for him. Do you think he will tell his father about us?”
Timothy laid a hand on her shoulder. “Nee, it was an empty threat, and I doubt Silas would believe such a thing of you. But it is getting late and we should both be getting home.”
“You’re right. What is your family doing tomorrow?”
It was an off Sunday, the Sunday without the biweekly church meeting. Most families used the day to go visiting or have family over, and his was no exception. “We are going to visit my mother’s brother over by Longford. Everyone except Samuel and Rebecca. She has asked John Miller and his mother over. They were her in-laws before she married Samuel, and they remain close.”
“I remember her first husband. He was a goot man. It was a shame he died so young, but God had a plan for the wife he left behind.”
“He did, and my brother Samuel is grateful he was part of that plan. What about you?”
“We have been invited to visit our aunt and uncle in Hope Springs. Father had arranged for a driver to take us before he and Mamm had to leave to be with father’s uncle. I almost decided to cancel the trip after the fire, but I think Amanda needs to be with her cousins. Two of them are little people, and she has so much fun when they get together.”
“It will be good for you to get away, too. Have you heard from your parents?”
“Not yet. I expect a letter by Monday letting me know how things stand. I pray they were able to make it before my great-uncle passed. When we first moved to Wisconsin, it was so my father could work with my uncle in his construction business. They had a falling-out several years later, and that was the reason we moved back here. I pray they were able to make amends. I know my father deeply regretted the split.”
“Will you be traveling there for the funeral?”
“Nee, it is too far, and I would not want to miss that much school. I would fall even further behind in my homework. I have not had a chance to open the book you gave me. Would you like it back?”
“Keep it as a token of my friendship and read it when you have the chance. I know you’ll enjoy it. What time should I show up with the paint?”
“First thing Monday morning.”
“Until then.” He tipped his hat and started walking away. She watched him until he reached the bend in the road. He turned round and lifted a hand in a brief wave. She resisted the urge to call him back, to spend a little more time in his company. Instead, she waved, too. When he was out of sight, she went to get Amanda and together they started for home.
When she reached the house, she saw Jeremiah sitting on the bench on the front porch. His horse and buggy waited at the gate. He rose to his feet. “Where have you been?”
“I went to the school to check on the repairs that were done today. Where have you been?”
“Visiting a friend.”
His brusque reply annoyed her. “Amanda, go in and start getting ready for bed.” When her sister went into the house, Lillian rounded on Jeremiah. “Does this friend have a name?”
He strode past her. “I’m going out. Don’t wait up for me.”
“The driver taking us to Hope Springs will be here tomorrow at eight o’clock.”
“I won’t be going with you.” He climbed into his buggy.
She followed him and put a hand on the buggy door. “Jeremiah, what is going on?”
“I’m sick of work, work, work. I’m going to go have a little fun.”
“With Davey Mast? I saw him tonight and he told me there is going to be a barn party at Abram Coblentz’s farm.”
“You’re welcome to come along. You might enjoy letting your hair down for once in your life.”
“I had my rumspringa, and I took my vows. I hold to them. You have been baptized, too. You should put your running around years behind you before you find yourself in serious trouble.”
“In serious trouble with who? Our stuffy old bishop? He won’t be spying on anyone tonight,” he said with a chuckle.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Didn’t you hear? There was a fire in his hayfield.”
“I did hear. The sheriff and the fire marshal were here today asking questions about the fire at the Hanson Farm when they got the call.”
Her brother’s grin disappeared, replaced by deep scowl. “What kind of questions?”
“Mrs. Hanson told the sheriff an Amish man had an argument with her husband the day before the fire. They asked if I knew who that Amish man might be.”
“What did you tell them?”
“Nothing. Even if you were the one Mr. Hanson had an argument with, I know you had nothing to do with the fire.”
“I appreciate your blind loyalty, sister.”
“It isn’t blind. I know you as well as I know myself.”
“I have to get going. I don’t want to miss my ride.”
“I wish you wouldn’t go.”
“I have to. It’s a goodbye party for Davey Mast. He’s moving away.”
“Where is he going?”
“Philadelphia. Who knows when I’ll see him again? Give Aunt Sarah and Uncle Howard my love and tell Cousin Ben he still owes me ten dollars.” He snapped the reins to set the horse in motion and Lillian was forced to move aside.
She was more troubled than she cared to admit. She spent a long time on her knees praying for her brother that night and for Davey Mast. When she finally slipped beneath the pink-and-white-stitched quilt, her thoughts turned to Timothy. Alone in her room she faced her growing feelings for him and wrestled with what to do about them.
Her common sense said she needed to spend less time in his company and put some emotional distance between them. Her heart said otherwise. The memory of being held in his arms sent a pulse of warmth across her skin.
She pressed her hands over her eyes. This was completely ridiculous. They were friends and they would stay friends. She would recover from this emotional upheaval caused by her fright during the fire in a week or two. Until then, she would make sure she wasn’t alone with him again. She would keep her guard up when he was near.
Turning over on her side, she pulled the quilt to her chin, determined to fall asleep. She did, only to dream of Timothy’s bright smile and eas
y laughter. She woke with a vague feeling of happiness but quickly came to her senses.
Throwing the quilt back, she got out of bed determined not to see Timothy or dream about him again.
Chapter Eleven
Early Monday morning, a gallon of white paint in one hand and a stepladder balanced on his shoulder, Timothy headed across the covered bridge toward the school. Behind him came Joshua and Mary with Emma and Luke. Hannah skipped along ahead of them. The adults all carried supplies to help clean and paint the schoolhouse. While Timothy had enjoyed visiting with his relatives the day before, he was eager to see Lillian again. It was a little frightening how much he had missed her.
“What’s the rush, bruder?” Luke called out.
Timothy realized he was several long strides ahead of the group. He stopped and waited for them to catch up. “I’m not in a rush. You just like to dawdle, Luke. The sooner we get started, the sooner we will be finished.”
“And the sooner you can spend more time with that certain someone.” Luke winked as he walked past.
Timothy turned his face to the sky, closed his eyes and shook his head. He never should have mentioned anything about Lillian to his irreverent brother.
“Don’t tease him, Luke,” Emma warned, giving her fiancé a stern look.
Timothy sent her a grateful look. At least he had someone on his side. “Danki, Emma.”
“You won’t let me have any fun,” Luke said with an exaggerated pout.
She took his hand. “If you don’t behave yourself, you will be walking home alone. Is that what you want?”
“I’ll behave. I promise.” Luke pressed her hand to his lips.
“Not much chance of that,” Joshua called out. “Mamm will tell you Luke hasn’t behaved since he was two years old.”
“That’s not so. I was a good kid. I got blamed for a lot of things you and Timothy did.”
“Like what?” Timothy asked.
Luke stopped in front of Joshua. “Like the time the milk cows broke through the fence and scattered all over creation because someone threw firecrackers under their feet. Remember that, little bruder?”
His Amish Teacher Page 9