Amish Days: The Schoolteacher's Baby: An Amish Romance Short Story (Hollybrook Amish Romance)

by Brenda Maxfield

  Amish Days

  The Schoolteacher’s Baby

  An Amish Romance Short Story

  by Brenda Maxfield

  Copyright © 2015 Tica House Publishing All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means, including scanning, photocopying, or otherwise without prior written permission of the copyright holder.

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  Table of Contents

  1. One

  2. Two

  3. Three

  4. Four

  One

  …weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.

  Psalm 30:5 (King James Version)

  Josie’s heart fluttered with excitement as her brother Thomas drove the wagon to the Sunday night singing at the Fishers. She watched him gently slap the reins on Dover’s back. The summer air closed around them like a heavy blanket, and Josie tugged at the neckline of her deep green dress, trying to get a bit of coolness. No use.

  She didn’t want to arrive at the singing looking wilted. Thinking about the evening ahead, she smiled to herself and smoothed her dark hair more securely under her kapp. She hesitated, wondering whether she was acting vain, fussing a bit too much—trying to look pretty.

  Thomas glanced at her. “Something wrong with you tonight? You’re fidgeting like a goat caught in fencing wire.”

  Josie pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Nee. Nothing’s wrong.”

  Thomas chuckled. “If you say so.” He gave her a knowing look, and for a quick moment she worried about being too obvious. But then, how could he guess her real reason for fidgeting?

  How could he know her elation at the prospect of seeing Ezekiel Zook at the singing?

  Josie had missed seeing Zeke that morning at the preaching service. Mamm had asked her to stay back and watch over her sister Rachel, who wasn’t feeling well. While she had been glad to help, it had only served to make her even more eager to see Zeke that evening.

  Dover trotted up the Fishers’ lane, and Thomas guided the horse near the barn, pulling the buggy next to the other wagons and carriages. Josie scanned the row of vehicles, trying to recognize how many courting carriages were present.

  Did Zeke have a courting carriage? Whether he did or didn’t, she fervently hoped he would ask to escort her home after the singing—and perhaps go the long way home, giving them more time to spend together. She had reason to hope, too, for after the last singing she’d found him standing near her more than once, and he had seemed unusually attentive.

  Thomas leapt from the wagon and secured Dover. Josie climbed down, straightened her apron, and put on her best smile.

  “Josie!” Mary called from the barn door. “Over here!”

  Josie waved to her best friend and went to join her. Since Mary was secretly betrothed, she would have someone to depart with that evening—no worries about leaving the singing alone or, worse yet, with a brother. Josie’s heart quickened. Please, Gott, let Zeke be here. And let him want to escort me home.

  Inside the barn, Josie’s gaze swept over the crowd.

  “I need to tell you something,” Mary said close to her ear, interrupting her search. “It’s about Sally—”

  A disturbance came from somewhere near the bales of hay, and Josie turned to investigate. Martha Yoder was squealing in delight and jumping up and down in front of Sally Jones.

  Josie took a double take. Sally is back? As far as Josie was aware, Martha hardly knew Sally, but then Martha latched onto any excuse to squeal.

  Mary pulled on Josie’s arm. “See? Sally’s back. That’s what I was going to tell you.” Her voice was low and solemn.

  Josie stared at her friend. “Why so glum? Don’t you want her back?”

  “The whole family is glad to have her. It’s just that—”

  Again, they were interrupted by a loud noise. Nathaniel Fisher was hollering across the barn at Zeke Zook.

  Josie blushed as she spotted Zeke—his broad shoulders and easy gait always sent her pulses racing. But what she observed next stopped her breath entirely. Nathaniel gave Zeke a meaningful look and pointed to Sally. Zeke’s face turned red, and he pretended to pay no mind. Then Josie saw Sally glance at Zeke and quickly lower her eyes.

  There was no mistaking it. Something was going on between Zeke and Sally.

  Josie gulped air and grabbed Mary’s arm. “Are Sally and Zeke…” She couldn’t continue, and her large eyes implored her friend to deny it.

  Instead, Mary pulled her further toward the back of the barn. “That’s what I was trying to tell you. I’m sorry, Josie. Truly, I am.”

  “But Sally’s not Amish! What is Zeke thinking? There’s no chance between them, right?”

  “Dat spoke with the Bishop this morning. Sally’s going to start instruction next week.”

  Josie’s legs went weak, and she nearly fell against the rough barn wall. “Nee.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Mary repeated and squeezed her friend’s shoulder. “But, Josie, there are other guys. Just look around. And you’re pretty. You’ll not be alone for long.”

  Josie felt as if her mind was stuffed with cotton. She shook her head, trying to clear the haze. “But I’m eighteen years old, soon to be nineteen. Do you see a flock of guys swarming around me?”

  Mary was silent.

  “Fine,” Josie said, relieved that her voice hardly wavered. She straightened her spine and raised her chin. “A person can’t choose who they love.”

  Mary’s eyebrows rose. “Truthfully? You’re all right with it, just like that?”

  Josie felt a nauseating moment of despair. She was far from okay—miles from okay, but what difference would it make? She’d learned years ago moping did no good—nor did it show any faith in God. She clenched her jaw and bit her lip. The sooner she accepted what she couldn’t change the better.

  She would not be a whimpering girl who wept or moaned or felt sorry for herself. She forced a smile.

  “Sally can’t help it if Zeke likes her.” Josie nearly choked on the words, but she got them out.

  “I’m impressed,” Mary said simply. She gave Josie a doubtful look and then shrugged. “Come on, then,” she said, and together, they joined the rest of the group.

  Josie participated in the singing, careful to keep a pleasant look fixed on her face. More than once during the slow songs toward the end of the evening, she sent up a quick plea asking God for help. Even so, the back of her eyelids stung with unshed tears.

  When the songs were over, everyone began to either mingle or pair off. Josie was acutely aware that she stood alone when someone touched her elbow from behind, and she turned to face Zeke. Her eyes grew huge, and she took a quick step back.

  “Can I talk to you, Josie?” Zeke asked. “Maybe over yonder.” He indicated a spot near the plow at the back of the barn.

  She nodded and followed him.

  “Sally’s returned,” he said, his blue eyes searching hers.

  “Jah, I noticed.” Josie’s voice held steady.

  Zeke ran his hand over his chin. “I thought she was gone for gut.”

  “Me, too.”

  “The thing is … well, Josie, the thing is…” His discomfort was palpable.

  Josie tilted her head and gazed up at him. “I already know what you’re trying to say. You needn’t continue
.”

  He gave a huge sigh. “I’m sorry, Josie. I never intended…”

  Josie shook her head. “I know you didn’t. Just go. She’s waiting.”

  He looked helpless for a moment and then gave her a bittersweet smile. Josie drew deep within herself and smiled back. Then she turned and walked straight outside to climb into the family wagon and wait for Thomas. She knew her brother would chat a while longer, but since he wasn’t sweet on anyone at the time, he would soon return and take her home.

  She pressed her hands against her chest and tried to slow her breathing. She blinked hard, working to stop the tears that refused to be held back any longer. She glanced around. No one was there to pay her any mind, so she let them flow.

  But only for a couple minutes.

  ****

  John Beiler picked up his six-month-old daughter and gave her a squeeze. “How are you, Emmy Sue? Did you have a fine day?”

  “Of course she did,” Lydia Miller said in her usual matter-of-fact voice. “What did you expect?”

  John sighed and looked at his mother-in-law. “Only making small talk.”

  “Idle words…” Lydia intoned in a sing-song fashion.

  “Jah, idle words,” John repeated, working to keep his tone pleasant. He gazed at his daughter. “Shall we go out to the daadi haus, little one?”

  “Supper is about ready. No need to take her. You go on out and leave her here with me.” Lydia approached the baby with outstretched arms.

  John turned slightly. “I wouldn’t think of troubling you further, Lydia. We’ll be back in for supper very soon.”

  Lydia leaned close to Emmy Sue’s face. “You’re never any trouble, are you, precious?”

  Emmy Sue giggled and thrust her hands into Lydia’s face. Lydia flinched and laughed and took the baby’s chubby hands in hers.

  John stepped back. “Just a few minutes, and we’ll be back.”

  He hurriedly carried Emmy Sue through the wash room and out back to the daadi haus, where he and his daughter had been living for the last half a year—ever since Essie had passed. So much of the time, John felt as if he lived in a fog. Is Essie really gone? Does little Emmy Sue really have no mother? He couldn’t comprehend how his once happy life had collapsed into a continual test of making it through the day.

  He opened the door to the daadi haus and set Emmy Sue in the corner of the couch. He propped her up with pillows.

  “There you are, Emmy.” He stretched his back, and his vertebrae popped. “You hear that, daughter? Your dat’s back is singin’ a song.”

  He walked to the area of the wide room that housed the kitchen and splashed cold water on his face. He paused to run his hand over his beard. As tradition dictated, he’d started growing it immediately after his marriage to Essie. She’d teased him, laughing and saying it tickled her when they kissed. He’d threatened to shave it off—which of course was unthinkable as a married man—and Essie had stomped her foot and told him he’d better not! He was married now, and she couldn’t have any other women thinking otherwise.

  He stared out the window, lost in the memory. Letting out a long breath, he lowered his head. Ahh, Essie, why did you have to die?

  A cry broke his reverie, and he twisted around to see Emmy Sue, her face pink and her hands flailing. He hurried to her, gathered her up, and held her close.

  “Emmy, Emmy, what’s the matter, honey? You wanting my attention?” He patted her back. “My, but you’re the wiggly one. Dat’s here now.”

  The front door of the daadi haus flew open and Lydia rushed in. “What’s wrong? I heard her crying!” She grabbed the baby from John’s arms. “There, there, little one,” she said, rocking her back and forth. “You’re okay now. You’re just fine.”

  Emmy hiccupped and stopped wailing.

  “I’ll take her back to the main house with me,” Lydia said. And with that, the two of them disappeared out the door.

  John stood, his arms hanging empty. What was that? Had Lydia been perched outside his door just waiting for Emmy Sue’s smallest cry?

  He shook his head. This couldn’t continue. He was the baby’s father. At the very least, he should have the evenings with her. He sank down on the couch. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate Lydia’s help. He did. She’d been a godsend right after Essie died. Truth be told, he couldn’t have survived those first weeks without his mother-in-law. But now? Lydia acted as if the baby were hers, not his.

  Emmy Sue would grow up hardly knowing she had a father. His Essie wouldn’t like this. She wouldn’t like it at all.

  He sighed and stood, fortifying himself for the dinner ahead.

  ****

  Josie’s mother set a bowl of parsnips on the table. She wiped her forehead with her arm, shoving graying wisps of hair aside.

  “The school board is looking for a replacement,” she commented to her daughter.

  “Why? Isn’t Louise still going to teach?” Josie asked, setting seven plates around the table.

  “Nee. She’s married now, and I imagine she’s thinking of her future bopplis.”

  “I don’t see why she can’t teach until it happens.”

  Mamm placed her hands on the back of Dat’s chair at the head of the table. “I s’pose she could, but she doesn’t want to. Being a wife and mother is a high calling from God.”

  Josie set out the utensils, feeling her mother’s eyes on her as she moved around the table. She sighed. “What is it?”

  “You could teach,” Mamm said. “You’d be a right fine teacher.”

  Josie’s brow crinkled. “Ach, I don’t want to teach.”

  Mamm came to her and grabbed both of her hands. “You were always a good student. And you’ll have time to spare once the harvest is in and the garden is put to bed for the winter.”

  Josie looked into her mother’s eyes and detected a glimmer of pity. She stiffened and pulled her hands from her mother’s grip.

  “What you’re saying is, I’ll have time since I’ve no husband or family to care for.” Her words were terse, and she fought the urge to leave the room. Visions of Zeke crowded her mind and she shook her head, working to dispel them.

  “Nee, that’s not what I’m saying,” Mamm said, but her shoulders fell, and Josie knew that it certainly was what she was saying.

  Josie moved to the staircase. “Do you need me to do anything else before dinner?”

  “Nee,” Mamm said, looking defeated. “They’ll be sending word to nearby communities about the teaching position soon. You could at least think about it, couldn’t you?”

  “I could,” Josie said. “But I don’t want to teach.”

  She climbed the stairs and walked straight to her bedroom. It was rare in her Amish community for anyone to have a room of their own, yet she did. She was never quite certain how it happened, but her three younger sisters seemed content enough to share a room.

  She sank down on the tulip quilt she had made the previous winter. Her aentis and cousins had helped—enjoying their own quilt frolic every Tuesday all through the cold months. She traced her finger over the fine stitching surrounding each tulip, and her eyes blurred with tears.

  Teaching school, indeed! She was never so happy as when she attended her last day of eighth grade. The thought of going back voluntarily made her shudder.

  So was this what her life was to be now? A search to keep busy since she had no beau? She rubbed her eyes and stood. How absurd. She was still young, plenty young—and she could keep herself busy just fine.

  ****

  John Beiler stood in the Dry Goods and Supply store where he’d been working for the past three years and stared at the message posted on the community board.

  Teacher Needed: Hollybrook District. Grades 5-8. Room and Board provided.

  John made a mental note of the contact information. Teacher. He’d always liked school. Room and Board provided. Would that include his daughter, too? But who would watch Emmy Sue during the day?

  Still, it might be wort
h looking into. It would get him out of Lydia and Ben’s daadi haus. It would give him and Emmy Sue a chance to get to know each other better, a place to establish themselves.

  He closed his eyes. Essie, would you approve?

  “John! I need you to help load Jeremiah’s wagon,” Adam hollered from the loading dock.

  John tore the notice from the board and stuffed it into his pocket. He hurried out back to help his brother heave sacks of grain into the waiting wagon.

  “You okay?” Adam asked, wiping sweat from his forehead.

  “Jah, I’m fine,” John replied.

  “And Emmy Sue? How’s she?”

  “Fine.”

  Adam leaned against the frame of the loading door. “You know we’d have you live with us if we could.”

  John nodded. “I know. Your house is too crowded as it is.”

  And it was. Both Adam’s family and their younger brother Sam’s family shared their parent’s old house. Between them, there were seven children, leaving no room for John and Emmy Sue.

  “I know Lydia Miller can be a hard woman.”

  John shrugged. Adam was right, but he didn’t want to get into it with anyone, even his brother. His struggle with Lydia Miller’s personality was best kept to himself. He thought again of the wadded-up notice in his pocket.

  Most Amish teachers were young women, mainly because the pay wasn’t enough to support a family. But if he and Emmy Sue would get free room and board, it would do nicely. He bent down to hoist up the last bag of grain.

  He would look into it.

  For the first time in months, a bit of interest sparked his imagination.

  Over the next couple weeks, John kept his prayers and his inquiries to himself—but his interest was piqued further by every contact he made with the Hollybrook School Board. As it turned out, the elder in charge had known John’s folks so he was favorably inclined to take John on as teacher from the beginning. The Board asked John to send a letter stating his desire to teach and to provide a list of names for further investigation. John did so willingly, careful to avoid the names of anyone who might be inclined to share his application with his in-laws.