His Amish Teacher

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His Amish Teacher Page 10

by Patricia Davids


  Joshua stabbed his finger into Luke’s chest. “Who gave me the firecrackers, lit them for me and told me where to toss them? You were older, and you should have known better.”

  Timothy laughed. “I believe those were Daed’s exact words when he settled on your punishment, Luke.”

  He grimaced. “And I still hate okra to this day. I had to harvest the biggest patch Mamm ever planted. Okra has little spines all over the leaves and stems. They stuck in my skin and itched for days.”

  “You are supposed to wear gloves and heavy long sleeves,” Mary said.

  “Mamm told me that, but I was in a hurry to get done and get to a softball game. Big mistake.”

  Hannah had stopped up the road waiting for them. “Hurry up. I don’t want to be late to school.”

  “Go ahead without us, liebchen,” her father said.

  She took off at a run. Timothy knew exactly how she felt. He wanted to run ahead, too.

  The school was already a beehive of activity by the time they arrived. Three men on ladders were scraping away the damaged paint on the south side. Lillian was standing on a smaller stepladder between two of them washing a window. Just seeing her made Timothy’s morning brighter.

  Emma and Mary went inside with their cleaning supplies. Luke and Joshua headed to check out the burned-out car that still sat beside what was left of the horse barn.

  Timothy approached Lillian and stopped beside her. “Guder mariye. Timothy Bowman reporting for his assignment, Teacher Lillian.”

  “Good morning.” She wiped her brow on her sleeve. She didn’t smile the way she always smiled at him. She didn’t even look at him.

  She returned to scrubbing the glass without even a glance in his direction. “Silas is in charge of the men. Check with him. I believe he’s by the old barn.”

  “Are you okay?” he asked. Something didn’t feel right.

  “I’m fine. Just busy.” She kept scrubbing at a spot near the top of the window.

  “Okay, I’ll get to work.” He walked away but glanced back once. She didn’t look his way. What had happened to upset her between the time they parted on Saturday and this morning?

  “Timothy, why don’t you and your brothers start painting the porch?” Silas said, gesturing in the direction.

  Timothy nodded and joined Luke and Joshua. As they set up two ladders, he opened the paint can and handed out the brushes. His brothers took them and dipped them in the pail. Timothy stared at the step where he’d put his arm around Lillian. It had been more than a friendly gesture on his part. Did she realize that? Was that what upset her? Or was something wrong at home? She’d been worried about her brother lately.

  Timothy glanced toward Silas. Perhaps Davey had made good on his threat and reported what he thought he saw to his father. Had Silas berated her for unseemly behavior?

  “What’s the matter?” Luke asked.

  Timothy wished his brother wasn’t quite so observant. “I’m not sure, but I think Lillian is giving me the cold shoulder.”

  “What did you do?”

  Timothy shook his head. “I don’t know. She wasn’t upset with me when I saw her last.”

  “Then maybe it isn’t you and she simply has other things on her mind.”

  “You’re probably right.” He was making a big deal out of nothing. She wants to get the school opened for the children again as soon as possible. And now he was the one dawdling. He dipped his brush in the paint and set to work.

  By noon, the school had been cleaned inside and out. The windows shone brightly. The siding and the new porch gleamed with the still wet paint. A half dozen more buggies arrived along with several pony carts filled with older women, including his mother. Colorful quilts were spread under the trees that had been spared by the blaze at the back of the property, and families were soon gathered around picnic hampers. Happy chatter and shrieks of childish laughter filled the air, as children who had been painting, scrubbing the floor and raking debris were free to play on the swings and teeter-totter. A few boys and young men had gotten up a softball game.

  Timothy was about to join them when he noticed a wagon coming in loaded with lumber. Jeremiah Keim was at the reins. He stopped by the burned-out barn. Silas Mast spoke briefly with him, and then motioned for Timothy to join them.

  “Jeremiah has donated the lumber for the new horse barn. Will you help him unload it?”

  “Sure. Jeremiah, have you eaten?” Timothy asked.

  “Not yet.” Jeremiah’s gaze was fixed on his sister. She was busy cleaning white paint off Amanda’s hands and hadn’t noticed him.

  “Come over and join us. My mother always brings way too much food.”

  “I will unless Lillian has something for me.” He started to get down from the wagon.

  “Tell her that she and Amanda are welcome to join us, too.” Timothy walked away without waiting to see what Lillian’s response was. Lillian had made a point of avoiding him all morning. He figured if she was truly upset with him, and he had no idea why she would be, then she wouldn’t join them. If they were still friends, she would take the invitation at face value and come enjoy the company of his family.

  He passed up the ball game and went to sit on his mother’s quilt. He was pleased a few minutes later when Amanda came over to sit beside Hannah. Lillian and Jeremiah soon followed. Lillian began setting out the ham and bread she had brought for sandwiches. She still wouldn’t look at him. As he knew his mother would, she produced a mountain of food in plastic bowls and jars. Along with paper plates and utensils, she placed everything in the center of the blanket. The fried chicken, German potato salad, pickles, pickled beets, a stack of brownies and two jugs of fresh lemonade left little room for people to sit.

  She made sure everyone had a heaping plate of food on their lap before she sat down with a sigh and leaned back against the tree trunk. She gazed out over the families gathered together. “It does this old heart good to see so many people willing to help.”

  “Not as many as usual,” Mary said. “I’ve noticed everyone scanning the horizons looking for signs of smoke. I know I have been. I think every family has left at least one member home to keep an eye on their place.”

  Emma took a piece of ham and put it on her plate. “People are watching strangers closely. I’ve even been uneasy when someone I don’t know stops at our store.”

  The threat was why there were fewer people helping today. Timothy’s father and Noah had remained at home, since Noah was carrying the fire pager and had wanted to stay near the highway in case he was called out.

  Emma passed around a tray of deviled eggs. “I’m sure many folks have gone to deliver hay to Bishop Beachy and take donations to his family. His buggy horse was in the pen closest to the blaze. It bolted in panic, tried to jump the fence and broke a leg. The vet couldn’t save it and the poor thing had to be put down.”

  “How awful.” Lillian’s eyes glistened with tears. She cared almost as much about animals as she did about the children in her care.

  “To buy a well-trained horse broke to harness can cost over a thousand dollars. It’s no small expense. The bishop doesn’t have deep pockets.” Luke handed the tray of eggs back to Emma minus the three he’d added to his plate.

  Timothy’s mother poured herself a glass of lemonade. “Isaac has lent him one of our horses until he is able to purchase another. Our congregation will give what they can to make up for his loss just as they are giving to repair this school. Did you boys know your great-great-grandfather donated this land and helped to build this school?”

  Timothy nodded. “I heard the story a long time ago when Grandfather was still alive.”

  “I don’t think I’ve heard it,” Luke said.

  “Ja, you did,” Joshua and Timothy said together.

  “Well, I don’t remember it.”


  Timothy flicked Luke’s hair. “Because you weren’t paying attention. As usual.”

  Their mother smiled. “Grandfather Bowman wanted his children to have a better education than he had. In his time, there weren’t so many Amish in this area. He went to public school, but he was teased and bullied there. It was during the First World War and many Englisch resented the fact that the Amish wouldn’t serve in the military. So he built a school for his own children, all fourteen of them, and hired an Amish teacher.”

  “We are grateful for his generous deed,” Lillian said. “Many Amish children have benefited because of it.”

  Joshua gestured toward Jeremiah’s wagon. “That load of lumber is a substantial donation from your family, Jeremiah.”

  “We can afford it.” Jeremiah reached for another chicken leg, adding it to his plate.

  Timothy caught the sharp glance Lillian shot her brother but she didn’t say anything. Timothy knew her father’s construction business along with her teaching salary was barely enough to support the family. While Amish families were expected to help one another, they weren’t compelled to give more than they could afford. If there were more fires in their Amish community, it would put a strain on everyone.

  “Who do you think is behind these fires?” Mary asked the question many of them were thinking.

  “Someone with a grudge against the two men, maybe. Mrs. Hanson said her husband had an argument with an Amish fellow. She didn’t know his name. The fire marshal hopes when Mr. Hanson is able to speak, he can name the man.” Timothy pinned his gaze on Jeremiah, waiting to see his reaction. In his heart, he didn’t believe Jeremiah was an arsonist. Timothy’s faith required him to see good in every man, but he had heard Lillian’s concerns and wanted to ease her fears.

  Jeremiah looked at his sister. She bit her lower lip. He put his plate down and met Timothy’s gaze. “I had a quarrel with Mr. Hanson the day before the fire, if you can call it that. All the shouting was done by him. I offered to harvest his corn for a fair price. I heard that he’d fired the crew he hired last month.”

  Luke leaned toward Jeremiah. “Then there were others who might have a grudge against him. Do you know who they were?”

  Jeremiah’s gaze shifted away. “I will not cast even the shadow of blame on another man.”

  “I don’t see how a harvest crew could have a grudge against Bishop Beachy,” Joshua said.

  Timothy’s mother heaved a deep sigh. “We may never know who has done these things. We must pray for them. We must ask God to open their eyes and hearts and allow them to see the error of their ways. Only God knows what is in the heart of a man. He is the ultimate judge.”

  They all nodded in agreement. The rest of the meal passed in silence. When everyone was through eating, the women were soon deep in conversation discussing plans for Luke and Emma’s upcoming wedding as they gathered up the plates and flatware. Lillian smiled and added a few comments, but Timothy could see she was still distracted. Something was troubling her. Something more than her brother’s argument with Mr. Hanson. Timothy wanted to find out what was wrong, but he couldn’t do that in front of everyone.

  He rose to his feet. “I think I need to walk off some of Mamm’s good fried chicken before I get back to work. Anyone care to join me?” He stared directly at Lillian.

  For a second, Lillian looked as if she would, but then a shadow came into her eyes. She shook her head and looked away. “I must get back inside. I have paperwork to catch up on.”

  His spirits plummeted. For whatever reason, she was determined to avoid him. He racked his brain for the cause and came up with only one answer. He had overstepped the bounds of friendship by putting his arm around her.

  * * *

  Seeing Timothy’s crestfallen expression tore at Lillian’s heart. Her determination to avoid being alone with him was hurting him as much as it was hurting her. That was never her intention.

  Joshua stood up. “I’ll take a walk with you, Timothy. I’d like to take a better look at the Hanson Farm and see if there is anything our family can do to help.”

  “The old man doesn’t want help from the Amish,” Jeremiah said, an edge of bitterness in his tone.

  The Bowman men looked shocked. Timothy said, “He may not want our help, but that doesn’t mean we should ignore him.”

  “The Englisch have insurance that pays them well for their losses. They don’t need our help.” Jeremiah stomped away from the group.

  Lillian shot to her feet. “Jeremiah didn’t mean that. I’ve changed my mind about that walk, Timothy. I will come with you. I would like to see the damage, too. If there is something we can do, the family doesn’t need to know the help came from us.”

  “Why is your brother so bitter toward the Englisch?” Mary asked.

  Lillian sighed. Her family had never shared the story of their experiences, but perhaps it was time they did. “When our family moved to Wisconsin, Jeremiah and our father went to work for our father’s uncle. Uncle Albert ran a construction business. It was a very successful business. Amish and Englisch alike appreciated the quality of work they produced. After a few years, Uncle Albert put my father in charge at the building sites and stayed in his office. He was getting on in years. Father was almost finished framing a fancy house for a rich Englisch fellow when the man decided the work wasn’t up to his standards. He refused to pay for the materials and time my father put in.”

  “How awful. That wasn’t right,” Mary said.

  “A few days later, the home caught fire in the night and burned to the ground. The man blamed Father. He said the Amish didn’t know how to work around electricity and that they had caused a short in the wiring. He refused to pay for the building materials and tools that were lost. He sued Uncle Albert and won. It was a huge blow to the business. Uncle Albert felt Father was partly to blame. It caused a split in the family. We found out later the homeowner had collected a tidy sum of insurance. He didn’t need the money he got from the lawsuit to cover his loses. He ended up building a much bigger house.”

  “Not all Englisch are greedy,” Ana said. “We have many Englisch friends who live upright lives and are faithful to God.”

  “I know that. I try to live my faith.” Lillian had harbored bitterness for a time, but she was able to forgive the man when she realized her bitterness was only hurting her, not him.

  “Was the cause of the fire ever determined?” Timothy asked.

  Something in his tone made her look closely at him. She had tried to forget that stressful time and put it all behind her. “I’m not sure. Why?”

  Timothy smiled at her. “Just wondering, that’s all. I am a fireman, even if only a volunteer.”

  “Timothy is the curious one, Lillian,” Luke said. “You should know that about him.”

  “Jeremiah may know.” She caught the glance the Bowman brothers shared and wondered at it.

  “I think I’ll ask him about it,” Luke said, and walked away to where Jeremiah was unloading the wagon.

  Ana had Mary help her to her feet. “Let’s get the quilts folded up and get home. I have a mountain of mending to do.”

  “I’ll help,” Lillian said.

  Ana shooed her away with the wave of a hand. “Nee, take your walk. You have done enough this morning. I can manage.”

  “All right.” Lillian glanced over her shoulder to where Luke stood talking to Jeremiah. The glare Jeremiah cast in her direction told her he wasn’t happy that she had shared their family’s story. He unhitched his horse from the wagon, got on the mare and rode away.

  A fire there and now fires here. There couldn’t possibly be a connection, could there?

  Chapter Twelve

  Timothy noticed Lillian’s unease as she stared after her brother. She was clenching and unclenching her fingers tightly together. Something
was wrong between them. He hoped and prayed her brother wasn’t involved in these fires.

  Joshua held out his hand to his wife. “Let’s take that walk, shall we? I saw a car pull into the Hansons’ lane a few minutes ago.”

  Mary smiled at him. “I need to get something from your mother’s buggy first.”

  Timothy followed them. Lillian made sure Amanda knew where she was going and left her under the watchful eyes of Susan Yoder, and then Lillian joined Timothy, Mary and Joshua.

  Mary pulled out another heavy-looking basket from the back of the buggy. Joshua took in from her and settled it in the crook of his arm.

  “I need to get something from the school, too,” Lillian said, and hurried away.

  She rejoined them with a smaller basket over her arm. Timothy took it from her and the couples began walking side by side down the road. Timothy let his brother get a little way in front of them and looked at Lillian. “Are you okay?”

  “A little tired.”

  “You worked like a beaver this morning.”

  “I feel responsible for getting everything done.”

  He wanted her to share what was troubling her even if it didn’t reflect well on him. “I thought maybe something had happened that upset you.”

  She gave him a shy smile. “Is that your way of telling me that I’ve been cranky?”

  “Don’t go putting words in my mouth.” At least she was beginning to sound like her old self.

  “I’m sorry. I was out of sorts this morning.”

  “It’s understandable. Many disturbing things have happened. But look on the bright side. You got the school painted two years ahead of time, and you are getting a new barn. I know you had complained to Silas that the old one had a leaky roof. Now I won’t have to fix it.”

  “The school does look nice. Once the charred grass grows back, it will look like nothing has ever happened. I hope it entices one of our young women to step forward and take the new teacher position.”

  “I thought the school board hadn’t decided if they were going to hire another teacher.”

 

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