“I overheard some of the board members talking, and they are in favor of giving me the extra help.”
“That’s goot.”
“For me and for my scholars.” They had reached the lane that ran up to the Hanson farmstead. A man was posting a large No Trespassing sign on the fence.
Joshua stepped forward. “Can you tell us how Mr. and Mrs. Hanson are doing?”
The man folded his arms with the hammer still in his hand. “My grandparents have lost their home. How do you think they are?”
His tone and stance told Timothy he wasn’t willing to be friendly. “You’re Billy. I remember going fishing with you when we were little. You caught five nice catfish, and I didn’t catch a thing.”
The man’s face softened. “Timmy, right? I remember you.”
Lillian took the basket from Timothy and handed it to the man. “I’m Lillian Keim, the teacher at the school up the road. We are all sorry about what happened and the children wanted to help. They have put together a few things for your grandparents. Could you see that they get them?”
He hesitated and then took the basket from her. “Sure.”
“We have something for them, too.” Mary took her basket from Joshua and held it out. Billy laid his hammer on the post behind grasp the handles. “That’s good of you folks. I’ll admit it’s unexpected. Granddad didn’t care much for the Amish. I thought the feeling was mutual.”
“We believe in helping our neighbors,” Mary said shyly, and stepped back.
“If you really want to help, find out which one of your people did this. Don’t just forgive them and let them get away with it.” Billy’s voice quivered with some strong emotion.
Mary laid a hand on his arm. “My father is Sheriff Bradley. He’s a just man. He will uncover the truth. He doesn’t play favorites.”
“I can attest to that,” Joshua said with a smile for his wife. “Nick threw me in jail not long after we met.”
“And he let you out when he discovered you were innocent,” Mary added.
Billy cleared his throat. “It’s good to know the sheriff doesn’t believe the Amish are above reproach. Thanks for this stuff. I’ll see that Grandma gets it. Granddad is still in the hospital, but he should get out in a few days.”
“We are praying for his speedy recovery,” Lillian said gently.
“Thanks. Were any of the kids at the school hurt?”
“They were frightened, but the children are fine,” Lillian assured him.
“Good.” Billy turned away, but turned back after a few steps. “It takes a sick man to destroy someone’s home and livelihood for no reason. My grandparents are getting too old to start over.”
Lillian took a quick step forward. “Sir, do you think your grandfather would be interested in leasing his cornfield to Ohio Central University? Professor Brandon Merrick is seeking land to lease for a new hybrid corn test plot. He says they pay well and quickly.”
“Ohio Central? I’ll talk to Granddad about it. He’s worried about money. They had insurance on the house, but not on the crops.”
“This might be a way to help them,” Timothy said.
Billy walked away with his head down and his shoulders bowed.
Timothy sent up a prayer for him and for his family.
Joshua took Mary’s hand. “Let’s go home, since we are almost there. I don’t want to leave Daed with all the work that needs to be done in the shop today.”
“I’ll tell Hannah where you’ve gone and make sure she gets home,” Timothy said.
Mary smiled and nodded. “Danki.”
The pair left and continued walking toward the river hand in hand.
“Those two make me want to get married,” Timothy said softly, looking into Lillian’s eyes.
* * *
Lillian avoided Timothy’s intense gaze. “They seem like a happily married couple. God has blessed them.”
“God has blessed three of my brothers with pearls beyond price.”
“If it is His will, you will be blessed as well in God’s own time. We should get back to the school. I am hoping to hold classes this afternoon. The children need to know things are back to normal.”
Timothy gestured toward the blackened field where a few charred pieces of corn stubble stood as a mute reminder of that frightening day. “It isn’t exactly normal. They all have to walk past this reminder morning and night.”
Lillian started walking. “Are you simply curious about the cause of the fire in Wisconsin, or are you looking for a connection to these fires?”
“I was curious, but you have to admit it is odd that your brother had angry words with both men involved.”
“He has never had angry words with Bishop Beachy.”
“That we know about.”
“You can’t suspect him, Timothy. He wouldn’t do this.”
“I don’t believe he did, but I think you have some suspicions, as well.”
She stopped and turned to face him. “I do and I am so ashamed of that. He is my brother.”
“I know how you feel. When we first learned that Luke was using and selling drugs, none of us believed it. We were wrong.”
“You weren’t wrong to believe in him. He repented and became a stalwart member of our faith. Your belief in him was justified.”
“I pray that your faith in Jeremiah is justified, as well. I really don’t want to think that one of us is behind this. It goes against everything I cherish. Is that the only thing troubling you, or is there something else? I hope you know you can tell me anything. I’m your friend. If my behavior the other evening has upset you, just tell me.”
Lillian glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He had his hands in his pockets. His shoulders were slumped and his hat rode low on his forehead. Having seen the same expression on some of her students when they knew they were in trouble, she couldn’t help smiling. “We have always been at ease with each other. Perhaps too much so.”
“You are upset with me. I thought as much.”
“I know you were only trying to comfort me, but not everyone would view it that way. I can’t afford to lose my job. The more I thought about Davey’s comment, the more convinced I became that our relationship could be viewed in the wrong context.”
“It was less complicated being friends when we were young. All I had to worry about then was being teased by my brothers for hanging out with a girl.”
“Many things were easier when we were young.”
“I value your friendship, Lillian. I would never do anything to hurt you. The next time you need some comfort, I’ll send Hannah to give you a hug.”
“And I will send back a hug to you in the same fashion.”
“Goot. Now that we have that out in the open and settled, can you smile at me once in a while?”
She couldn’t hold back a grin. “If you insist.”
“Danki, I feel much better now.”
So did Lillian. She wouldn’t have to avoid Timothy. He understood that their friendship was open to scrutiny and had to remain circumspect. She was the one who needed to remind herself of that fact. Because being alone with Timothy was like wading in the river. She never knew when she might step into a hole and find the water was over her head without warning.
* * *
A long day of soaking rain on Wednesday put an end to the dry spell and decreased the fire danger in the community. When there hadn’t been another incident by the time Sunday services rolled around, Lillian and many others began to relax.
She helped Amanda into the family’s black buggy, cleaned and washed for the occasion. Jeremiah drove his open-topped courting buggy, a sign he hoped to take one of the local girls home later that day. Lillian didn’t think there was anyone special in her brother’s life, but she didn’t
know for sure. Jeremiah had grown tight-lipped in the past few months. Maybe there was a girl.
The service was being held at the home of Isaac and Ana Bowman. Members of the community took turns hosting the bimonthly preaching service but never more than once a year to prevent it becoming a burden on any one family. Hosting the service required a great deal of preparation. Family members and friends gathered several days before to clean the house inside and out. Pies and cakes were baked to be served at the luncheon where nearly one hundred people would gather after the service. Cookies, brownies, punch and other treats were prepared for the young people who would stay until late in the evening to socialize and enjoy a singing.
Inside the Bowman home, the walls between the lower rooms had been opened up to make room for rows of backless benches. The early-morning sunshine poured in through spotless windows and cast low rectangles across the polished wooden floor. Women sat together on one side while the men sat across the aisle. Since the married women normally sat together, Lillian and Amanda sat behind them with the single women and young girls.
A visiting bishop arrived to help with the preaching, since Lillian’s father had not yet returned. He turned out to have a great gift for speaking and everyone present felt his words were guided by the Holy Spirit. Following the three-hour service, the visitor gave a plea for help with one of his parishioner’s medical bills. Their teenage son had been diagnosed with leukemia and his medical expenses were mounting. Donations were collected for that family, and then the minister passed the collection plate for Bishop Beachy. Lillian gave what she could but knew it was a pitifully small amount. Bishop Beachy then announced the banns of marriage for two young couples from the congregation. Neither of them was a big surprise.
Afterward, Lillian sent Amanda to play with several other young children under the watchful eyes of their mothers and then joined the women helping serve the light luncheon inside. The backless benches had been stacked together to make a half dozen narrow tables. The congregation ate in shifts with deference being given to the elders first. The teenagers and young children would eat last. The arrangement suited them, as it gave them more time to spend with their friends.
Lillian took her place washing dishes at the sink. Rebecca was helping her dry them. Ana came in and handed Lillian a tray of glasses. “I see your parents have not yet returned. Have you had word from them?”
“I had a letter on Friday. Onkel has rallied, and Father wishes to remain for the time being. They dearly miss Amanda. Mother regrets not taking her with them, but they never expected to be gone so long.”
“Are you and your brother coping without them?” Rebecca asked.
“We are, although I think Jeremiah prefers Mother’s cooking over mine.”
Rebecca laughed. “Samuel never complains, but I know he prefers Ana’s cooking.”
“He has never said such a thing to me,” Ana declared. “He says you are a goot cook.”
“He eats two helpings of your meat loaf and he’ll only take one of mine.”
“I will write out my recipe for you, if you like,” Ana offered.
Rebecca set her hands on her hips and stretched backward, making her rounded belly stick out even farther. “I would rather come over and eat yours. It’s easier. I’ve been too tired to do much cooking lately.”
Ana patted Rebecca’s tummy. “I will make up some meals for you this week. You need your rest. This baby will be here in no time, and then rest will be out of the question.”
Ana went back to gather more dishes. Rebecca frowned and pressed a hand to her ribs as she stretched sideways. “I wish he would find a new place to kick me. I must be black and blue on the inside on this rib.”
“You look happy in spite of that.” Lillian refused to dwell on the fact that she would never be a mother, but sometimes, like now, a stab of jealously hit her hard. She willed it away.
Rebecca laced her fingers together over her stomach. “I am happy and yet I’m also afraid of that happiness. I know how easily it can be taken away.”
“To worry is to doubt God,” Lillian said, quoting one of the many Amish proverbs she’d heard all her life.
“You’re right. God is good. I will trust the kindness of the Lord, for He has given me many blessings. Do you ever think about getting married, Lillian? I know you love teaching and you do a wonderful job with the kinder, but what if someone was interested in courting you? Would you be open to the idea?”
“Are you talking about someone specific or in general terms?” Lillian handed her friend another plate to dry, wondering if Timothy had put Rebecca up to this.
Rebecca rubbed the saucer slowly with her towel. “I’m speaking in general terms.”
Which meant Rebecca would become more specific if Lillian admitted to being open to the idea. “In general terms, I love my job and I have no wish to give it up.”
“Even for the love of a husband and children of your own?”
Lillian didn’t normally have a problem denying her desire for love and marriage, but today the words stuck in her throat. If things were different. If she could give Timothy the family he wanted—but she couldn’t. “I love the children I teach, and that is enough for me. Someday the right man may come along. No one can know God’s plan. Until then, teaching holds sway over my heart.”
She could almost imagine marrying a widower who needed help raising a half dozen children, but even then it would be a poor bargain for the man because her heart belonged to Timothy.
She kept her head down and vigorously scrubbed a sticky pan, hoping no one noticed the tear that slipped down her cheek before she could blink it back.
Chapter Thirteen
Lillian was delighted to see Debra and Brandon when they stopped by just as she was leaving the school on Tuesday afternoon. Debra, balancing on crutches, came around the front of her brother’s car wearing a cast on her foot.
Lillian pressed a hand to her chest. “Don’t tell me your foot was broken. You poor thing.”
Debra extended her cast. “One small bone is all. This monstrosity makes it look worse than it is.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Lillian. It was my own clumsiness. How are you? How are all the children? Are any of you having difficulties with PTS?”
Lillian tipped her head. “With what?”
“Post-traumatic stress. Nightmares, excessive worrying, trouble concentrating, things that can happen to people after a frightening experience.”
“Several of the kinder have told me they were scared to come back to school at first, but they seem okay now. Are you having such troubles?”
Debra shrugged. “A few nightmares, but they’re getting better.”
“I’m glad.”
Debra moved toward the school. “I’m amazed. The building doesn’t look like it just came through a fire. If it wasn’t for the charred field across the way, I would think I was at the wrong school.”
Lillian smiled broadly. “Our community comes together to help when there is trouble. We missed only one day of school. The paint, lumber and labor was all donated by the families of our children. The barn was rebuilt, too, but I’m afraid we couldn’t do anything with your car.”
“Hasn’t my insurance company been here to tow it away?”
“Not yet.”
Brandon folded his arms over his chest. “We can’t get our insurance company to come pick up one car while in the same amount of time you folks have restored your school and built a barn. Something is wrong with that picture.”
Debra hobbled toward the steps. “I’m telling you, Brandon, I’m going to become Amish. These people have the right idea about a lot of things.”
Brandon laughed. “The only thing standing in your way is that you like driving, you love electricity, you couldn’t live with
out your computer and you can’t cook.”
“Details, details. Lillian, I need my notes and to download the results from the machine I left behind. Are they still here?”
“I’ve kept your equipment and notes in the coatroom. I thought perhaps the health department would send someone to finish the tests, but I haven’t heard from them.”
“I’ll be here Friday morning to complete them. I don’t have to stand to do hearing screens, so my supervisor is letting me come back to work half days. I still can’t drive, but Brandon has agreed to haul me out here and back.”
“Wunderbar and so kind of him.”
“Don’t go assuming he is the kindly older brother. He has an ulterior motive.”
Brandon gestured toward the burned cropland. “I spoke with Mr. Hanson, and he has leased his acreage to me for a test field. Thanks to you, I take it. Mr. Hanson’s grandson told me you were the one who mentioned it.”
“I was happy to do something that would benefit both of you.”
“You’ll be seeing a lot of me over the spring and summer months. I wanted to ask if you thought some of your students would be interested in earning extra money working for me next summer.”
“Detasseling the corn? I’m sure they will.”
Debra threw one hand in the air, almost dropping her crutch. “See how smart this woman is? I had no idea what detasseling was, and she knew right off the bat. What is it, anyway?”
Lillian suppressed a grin. “Detasseling is a form of pollination control. By removing the pollen-producing flowers, what we call the tassel, from the tops, the plant can’t fertilize itself as corn normally does. Pollen is carried by the wind from adjacent plants of a different corn variety onto the silks of the forming ears. This produces a cross-breed or hybrid. They tend to be stronger and produce a better yield than either parent.”
“An excellent explanation,” Brandon said.
“I confess I have only recently read up on the subject,” Lillian admitted. “Timothy lent me some of the farm journals he gets.”
“I hope to get a cover crop planted in the next few weeks. Austrian winter peas, not daikon radishes.”
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