“And you think you can?”
“Of course I can’t. I may only be with them for a couple of weeks.”
“It takes less time than that for lonely children to fall in love with you and depend on you.”
Greta was right. “When did you become such an expert on children?”
Greta blushed and looked away. Her sudden change of attitude triggered Clara’s curiosity. “Is there something that you haven’t been telling us?”
“I’ve been reading, that’s all.”
“Reading what, Greta?”
“I’ve been reading about abused children and how they are being helped by Englisch counselors and medicine,” she said in a rush.
Clara took her sister’s hand. “There is nothing to be ashamed of in that.”
“I don’t want to feel like a victim anymore. I want to do something positive. I want to help others, children and women like us. Is that prideful?”
“Nee, I don’t think it is prideful at all. If that is where you believe God is leading you, then you must listen to His will, but do not confuse it with your own desires.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“I don’t doubt that for a minute.”
“If I wanted to become a counselor, it would mean more schooling. It would mean I would have to leave the Amish.”
Clara bit her lower lip. It would mean her beloved sister would move away from them. “Have you talked to anyone else about this?”
“I haven’t found the courage.”
Clara spoke slowly, knowing what she said could change her family forever. “The Amish faith is not for everyone. We know this. Our simple and plain ways are meant to keep God first and our families close without the distractions the outside world offers. We are not blind to the world, but we choose to shut it out so that we may live close to God.”
Clara cupped Greta’s cheek. “You have not been baptized. You would not be breaking a vow if you feel called to seek a different life. Pray about this. It is not a thing to do lightly.”
Greta nodded and smiled. “I’m glad you took the job with Ethan Gingerich. You have much to offer him and his children.”
“I pray you are right.” Clara realized that she was glad she had accepted the position. It might not be easy, and she might not be there for long, but she would do what she could for the wounded hearts in the Gingerich family.
If Ethan would let her.
* * *
Ethan glanced out the window over the sink. Clara hadn’t arrived yet. He had been bothered all night by their conversation yesterday. Was she right? Were the children constantly finding trouble because they were bored? Would giving them chores give them a sense of belonging? He could sure use the extra help.
He turned away from the window and looked at the children seated around the kitchen table. “When you lived with your mamm and daed, did you have chores to do?”
“Sure,” Amos said, sitting up straighter. “I fed the rabbits and the goats every day. I hoed the garden, too. Mamm always said I did a goot job.”
“I’m sure you did. All right, I want you all to know that there are going to be a few changes around here, starting today.”
“Like what?” Amos asked.
“For one thing, you are all going to have chores to do from now on. Amos, you will take care of the chickens, geese and turkeys. That means you will feed and water them, and you will gather the eggs every day. You will let them out of the pen and make sure they are all back in the roost by evening. Micah, I want you to clean out the horse stalls while I’m gone and make sure there is fresh straw laid down every day. It wouldn’t hurt to mow the yard, either. I have a reel mower in the shed.”
Micah didn’t say anything, so Ethan said, “You will also be responsible for bringing in firewood for the stove. I will cut it. I don’t want you swinging an ax until you’re older. Amos, you are to weed the garden. Clara can help you if you aren’t sure what to do.”
“What about me?” Lily asked.
“You are to help Clara with the housework. All of you will need to pick up your rooms and make your beds every day. That includes today if you haven’t done it already. And I want you to bring your dirty laundry to the back porch on wash day.” He waited for protests, but the children remained silent.
So far so good. Maybe Clara had been right. He wasn’t their parent, but he was the adult in charge of them. His horses needed to know who was in charge. They needed clear directions to follow in order to work as a team. Maybe it was the same with children.
He heard the sound of a horse and buggy outside. He glanced out the window and saw Clara go by in a two-wheeled cart pulled by a palomino pony.
Lily got down from her chair and raced to the door. “Clara’s here!”
Amos followed her out the door. Micah remained at the table. Ethan leveled a stern look at the boy. “Today will be a better day for Clara. Is that understood, Micah?”
“I guess.” His reply lacked enthusiasm.
“Goot. I’ll go put her pony away.”
“I can do it.” Micah got up from the table and went out.
At least Micah wasn’t arguing with him. It seemed like a step in the right direction. Ethan was willing to take whatever he could get. He rose and stoked the coals glowing in the stove. He added a small amount of wood so that it would be ready for Clara.
“Danki, Ethan.”
He hadn’t heard her come in. He turned around and was caught off guard by her bright smile. She wore a dark pink dress today and a white apron. It brought out the color in her cheeks and made her eyes an even brighter blue. She carried a large basket over one arm. She came into the room and set the basket on the counter.
It was strange to see a woman enter his kitchen as if she belonged there and yet it was nice. He closed the lid of the firebox and then yanked his stinging fingers away from the hot metal. He stepped to the sink, turned on the cold water and stuck his fingers under the cooling liquid. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. She hadn’t noticed his blunder. She began unpacking her basket.
He said, “I thought I would give you a head start on your day.”
“It is appreciated, as is Micah’s help with Buttercup.”
“I noticed you decided to drive today.”
She shot him a sheepish grin. “My grandfather insisted. Normally, I enjoy walking wherever I need to go.”
“You mean you don’t like driving.” He leaned against the counter as he dried his hands. His fingers still smarted. They were red but not blistered.
“I don’t. Does it show?”
“Not really. It was a guess on my part.”
“A good one. I thought it would be best if I had some means of quick transportation in case anything happened to one of the children.”
“My mares are here.”
She looked shamefaced and fastened her gaze to the floor. “I know, but I don’t think I could bring myself to use one of them. They’re so...big.”
“You might feel differently if you got to know them. They really are gentle animals.”
She gripped a jar of jelly so tightly that her knuckles stood out white. He was afraid it might shatter. He stepped close and took her hands to gently pry the jar from her. A rush of warmth filled him as his fingers closed over hers.
Her gaze flew to his face. Her eyes widened with shock. She opened her mouth, but didn’t speak.
He leaned closer, concerned by the look of fear that appeared on her face. “Clara, what is it?”
Chapter Seven
Clara stared into Ethan’s face, mesmerized by the emotion in his eyes and his overpowering size as he leaned close. He held her hands. She tried to pull away.
Suddenly, she was back in her uncle’s house. Rufus, the horrible man deter
mined to marry her, had followed her into the pantry. He grabbed her and used his weight to press her against the wall, clapping a hand over her mouth to stifle her cries. He began kissing her neck. She cringed and struggled harder. He laughed at her ineffective efforts to escape him.
“Stop it! Let me go!” Clara jerked her hands free. The jar she held crashed to the floor and splintered, splattering blueberry jam everywhere. She crossed her arms tightly and stumbled backward until she hit something solid.
“Clara, what’s wrong?”
The image of Rufus faded. Clara realized she wasn’t in her uncle’s home. She was in Ethan’s kitchen, backed into a corner and cowering in front of him. Ethan stared at her in wide-eyed shock.
“I...I need some air.” She rushed out the door and grabbed the post on the front porch to keep from falling. Lily and Amos were coming up the steps toward her.
“Micah put your pony in the barn. I like your pony. He’s so pretty. I wish I had a pony like that,” Lily said.
Don’t frighten the children.
Clara drew several quick deep breaths. She let go of the post and sank onto the top step. She drew the little girl onto her lap to hide her shaking hands. “He is a very pretty pony. His name is Buttercup. Someday, your onkel Ethan will buy you a pony and cart, too.”
“Will you, Onkel Ethan?” Lily looked over Clara’s shoulder. Clara knew he had come out and was standing behind her. What must he think of her outburst? Nothing like it had ever happened to her before. It had been so real. Was she going insane?
“If you are a good girl and do all your chores I may buy you a pony one day.”
“What about me?” Amos asked.
Clara put her arm around him and pulled him close. “You will not want a slow pony and cart. You’ll want a high-stepping, flashy horse and a sporty courting buggy.”
“And all of it will cost me a pretty penny,” Ethan said. “I had best get busy and cut down some trees to sell. Clara, are you all right?”
“Ja. I was dizzy for a moment, that’s all. I’m better now.”
“Are you sure?”
She wanted to slink under the porch and hide in shame. Instead, she released Lily and Amos and rose to her feet. She took a slow, deep breath, but she still couldn’t look at Ethan. “I broke a jar in the kitchen, children. Please wait out here until I get all the glass picked up.”
Ethan stepped aside as she walked past him and back into the house. She got a broom and dustpan and began sweeping up the glass and jam, making long smears of purple-blue across the plank floor. She knew Ethan had followed her, but she kept her gaze on her task.
“I’m sorry that I frightened you, Clara. It won’t happen again.” There was such remorse in his words. It only added to her shame.
She stopped her work and looked at him. “It wasn’t you.”
He shifted from one foot to the other. His hands were thrust deep in his pockets. “I don’t think I believe that.”
She couldn’t allow him to blame himself. She propped the broom against the counter and crossed to where he stood by the door. She laid her hand on his arm. “You must believe me. It wasn’t you, Ethan.”
* * *
The touch of Clara’s small, warm hand on his bare skin sent his pulse skittering wildly. Her earnest words made him feel better, but he still didn’t understand what had happened. For those few seconds, he had seen abject terror in her eyes. He never wanted to see that kind of fear etched on her face again.
She managed a smile, but he could see it wasn’t real. She said, “You should get going. It will be hot later today.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be working in the shade.”
“That’s right.” She stepped back and brushed a few stray hairs away from her face. Her hand trembled ever so slightly, but he saw it.
“I’ll be at Elam Sutter’s again today. Send Micah if you need me.”
“I will. Please don’t worry. I’m fine now.”
He didn’t want to go. “If it’s something you’d like to talk about, I can listen.”
It looked for a second as if she would confide in him, but suddenly she shook her head and moved across the room to begin sweeping again. “A dizzy spell hardly warrants a conversation. Have a pleasant day, Ethan. I’ll see you at supper time.”
He had been dismissed. There was something that she wasn’t telling him, but was it really any of his business? Not if she didn’t want it to be. He decided not to press her.
He went outside and saw Micah sitting on the steps with Lily and Amos. He walked past them, then turned back. “Micah, if anything unusual happens, go to Adrian and Faith Lapp. They’ll know what to do.”
Micah tipped his head. “Unusual like what?”
“I don’t know. If there is anything you can’t figure out, go get them.”
Micah shrugged. “Okay.”
Ethan glanced toward the house. It was the best that he could do. He climbed aboard his logging arch and drove toward the highway. For someone who had been so eager to get back to work, all he wanted to do was turn around and find out what was wrong with Clara. If he hadn’t frightened her, what had?
* * *
Clara didn’t relax until Ethan was out of sight. He must think she was ab im kopp, crazy in the head. What other explanation was there for someone who shrieked in terror because a man tried to take a jar from her hand?
But it had seemed so real.
It wasn’t real. Rufus could not hurt her here. She gave thanks to God for her deliverance and squared her shoulders. She had a job to do. The children needed her. Ethan had hired her to look after them, and that’s what she was going to do. No more dwelling in the past.
During the morning, Lily helped Clara wash the kitchen floor again, swishing the mop around with enthusiasm if not precision. Looking out the window, Clara saw Micah pushing a wheelbarrow out of the barn and knew he was cleaning the stalls. Ethan would find his own workload at home cut in half by letting the children help. Amos happily hoed the garden and brought her four big tomatoes when he was done.
“These are lovely, Amos. Danki.” She washed them and set them in the kitchen window.
“I will slice them, cover them with cheese and melt them in the oven for our lunch today. How does that sound?”
“Mighty goot.”
“Did you gather the eggs already?”
“Micah did it.”
So Micah was helping his younger siblings with their chores. Clara would praise him for that when he came in.
“Can we play catch in the front yard?” Amos asked.
“That sounds like fun, but don’t leave without telling me.” Clara sent him out to play while she did some baking. After setting two cakes in the oven, she looked out the window again and didn’t see any of the children.
They knew they were not to leave without telling her. Had Micah’s rebellious nature gotten the better of him again today?
She went to the front door and opened it. Amos and Lily were sitting on either side of the doorway with their backs to the wall looking forlorn. Clara didn’t see Micah. “Where is your brother?”
“Behind the barn,” Amos said with a scowl. He held a baseball and a glove.
“He doesn’t want to play with us,” Lily added.
“He called us babies.” Amos tossed his ball into the air and caught it.
“It wasn’t nice of him to call you that. What is he doing behind the barn?”
“Getting in trouble,” Lily said with a sigh.
Amos pressed a finger to his lips. “He’ll get mad at us if we tell.”
“Perhaps I should go see for myself what he’s doing. I want you to go in and wash up. We will have lunch soon.”
When both the children went inside, Clara walked toward the barn. What mi
schief was Micah up to now?
She paused beside the fence at the corner of the barn because she saw that the barn door was open. Were Ethan’s mares inside?
Clara heard the smacking sound coming from the back of the barn. What was Micah doing?
Since the horses weren’t in sight, Clara climbed over the fence and hurried to close the barn door. She latched the bottom half, but before she could get the top shut, one of Ethan’s mares stuck her head out.
Clara jumped back, her heart beating wildly. The horse reached her long nose toward Clara. She took another stumbling step back. With a snort of indifference or disgust, Clara wasn’t sure which, the mare moved away from the door. Pressing one hand to her pounding chest, Clara skirted the door and went around the corner of the barn.
Micah had his back to her. The smacking sounds she had heard were eggs being tossed into the air and smashed with a baseball bat. The back of the red barn was covered with splattered yolks and bits of eggshells. A pile of unbroken eggs lay by Micah’s feet. He must’ve heard her sharp indrawn breath because he spun around to face her, trying to hide the bat behind his back.
She fisted her hands on her hips. “Micah Gingerich, you just wait until your father gets home.”
The boy’s guilty expression turned to anger. “He’s not my father, and he’s never going to be.” He picked up one more egg and hit it before throwing the bat down and running toward the creek.
Clara called after him, but he kept going. Her frustration grew. One minute he was doing his chores and being helpful, the next he was doing something like this. She was more certain than ever that he was struggling with pent-up grief. She wanted to help him, but was she doing more harm than good?
* * *
Ethan looped a chain around the section of tree he had finished cutting. After checking that it was secure, he climbed onto his rig and spoke softly to his team. He asked them to back up and they responded without hesitation. When he had his logging arch where he wanted it, he said, “Whoa.”
The team stopped immediately, but Dutch shifted his weight impatiently, waiting for the command to pull. He knew it was coming. Ethan hopped off and connected the chain to the pull bar. He was as impatient as Dutch to get the day’s work over with. His mind was on Clara. How was she faring with the children today?
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