Sam gasped. “You didn’t.”
“I was risking frostbite every time I went to school. One of die kinner was bound to catch pneumonia. There was a new stove in the school three days later.”
Sam smiled. “It was the right thing to do for sure and certain, but school boards don’t like pushy teachers.”
She expelled a quick laugh. “Pushy? I was polite for two whole months.”
“I don’t wonder but that the children were grateful.”
Elsie nibbled on her bottom lip. “The children had bright red cheeks and runny noses all winter. Most of the maters secretly thanked me, but no one defended me in May when the school board told me I wasn’t welcome back the next year.” The memory seemed to give her some pain. He didn’t like seeing the light fade from her eyes. “Don’t tell anyone,” she said with a hint of a smile on her face.
“I don’t doubt but they are kicking themselves for letting you go. Who is going to whip their spoiled little boys into shape? Who will play softball with the children and teach fractions using pizza?”
“Mary Schlabach. She is a wonderful-shy girl who never raises her voice above a whisper and wouldn’t dare squeak without permission. She would just as soon freeze to her chair as cross the school board in anything.”
“It sounds as if she’s better fitted to be a quilter.”
Elsie lowered her head and giggled. “She’s a very nice girl, but she shouldn’t be teaching children. It isn’t her fault that the school board was looking for someone completely different from me.”
“Have you heard how she’s doing?”
She waved her hand as if she didn’t care. “My cousin Eliza has a son at the school, and she doesn’t have much to say about Mary, but that is probably because she’s my cousin and wants to make me feel better. Amish children are easy to teach. Mary will do fine.”
“Mary wouldn’t do fine if Wally were in her class.”
“Ach, vell, Wally is a special case.”
“Jah,” Sam said. “He requires a very special kind of teacher. I thank the gute Lord the school board in Charm is so inflexible.”
Elsie could have lit up a cave with her smile. “You’ve changed your mind since the first time we talked.”
He pumped his eyebrows up and down. “I guess I have.”
She giggled as if she couldn’t hold it in. “Denki.”
Rose Mast came strolling down the sidewalk with a bright pink cake in her hands. Sam groaned inwardly, but when Elsie snapped her head up to look at him, he wasn’t altogether sure he hadn’t groaned out loud. He immediately felt sorry. He and Rose were friends, but Rose’s treatment of Elsie always bordered on rude, and Sam didn’t like it. The gute Lord had sent Elsie to the Sensenig family, and nobody should treat Elsie with anything but kindness.
Rose pasted a smile on her lips and glued her gaze to Elsie’s face. “Vie gehts, Sam?” she said, and it seemed as if she made a deliberate point of leaving Elsie out of her greeting.
Elsie smiled at Rose. Sam appreciated that Elsie was eager to like everybody, even when they did things that should have set her against them. That’s why she was such a gute teacher. She loved her students no matter what, even when they were naughty.
“Look at that cake,” Elsie said. “It’s prettier than a picture.”
Rose seemed to enjoy the praise, even if she didn’t particularly like Elsie. “Denki. It’s strawberry-vanilla. Sam’s favorite.”
Nae, it wasn’t. He liked coconut and chocolate. Strawberry wasn’t even one of his twenty-five most favorite.
“I make Sam and his family a cake every Friday night.”
Sam smiled, even though the thought of strawberry cake made the roof of his mouth itch. “We’re very grateful.”
Rose kept her eyes on Elsie as the laughter tripped from her lips. Sam wasn’t sure what was so funny, but if Rose was happy, he was happy. He wanted everybody to be happy, but he didn’t really care about Rose’s happiness in particular. Why was he so ferhoodled all of a sudden?
Elsie was still attempting to win Rose over with a smile. “Maggie says all the time that you are the kindest neighbor anyone could ask for.”
Rose narrowed her eyes, as if trying to work out in her head why Elsie was standing in Sam’s yard. “All the time?”
There was nothing to feel guilty about, but Sam felt uneasy all the same. Maybe it was because only moments earlier, he’d been thinking very seriously about Elsie Stutzman’s lips. “Elsie comes three days a week to tutor Wally.”
Rose’s eyes narrowed to slits on her face. “A teacher shouldn’t give the scholars homework. Learning stays at school. That’s what my dat says.”
Elsie kept smiling. “I agree. The Englisch schools give homework even to their first graders. But I haven’t given Wally homework. I’m just helping him along with some of his lessons.”
Rose looked sideways at Elsie while talking to Sam. “Lizzy says Wally is far behind in school.”
Had everybody known that but Sam? He hated that other children talked about his brother behind his back. All the more reason for Elsie to tutor him. “That is why Miss Stutzman is helping Wally. So he can catch up.”
Rose pursed her lips. “It doesn’t seem fair to the other students to give Wally extra lessons.”
Sam clenched his teeth. It had always been hard to reason with Rose when she got an idea in her head. “Lizzy says he’s behind. He needs the help.”
“Jah, but it still doesn’t seem fair,” Rose said. “One student shouldn’t get special treatment.”
Elsie seemed as unruffled as ever. “I care about all my students. I’d be happy to help your schwesteren if they need it.”
Rose frowned. “My dat doesn’t like homework.” The lines piled up on her forehead. “It isn’t proper to spend so much time in a student’s home, especially where a single man lives. It’s in the Ordnung, I think.”
Sam didn’t follow her reasoning and didn’t want to try. “Really, Rose, it’s fine. Maggie cooks while Elsie and Wally sit at the kitchen table and do lessons, and then we have dinner together.”
Of all the things Sam could have said, this seemed to upset Rose the most. She batted her eyes and sprouted a confused, disturbed look on her face. “I could cook dinner for you while the teacher and Wally do lessons. That would be better than making Maggie cook every night.” She turned to Elsie. “What days do you come? I’ll cook dinner for you.”
That was completely unacceptable, but Sam didn’t know how to say it without sounding as hostile as he felt. He pressed his lips together and swallowed the golf ball–sized lump in his throat. “Maggie doesn’t mind cooking. She’d have nothing to do if you cooked for us. Besides, I don’t want your family to go hungry.”
Rose swatted his concern away and nearly dropped her cake. “Ach, they don’t care. Mamm cooks dinner. She can spare me three days a week. What is your favorite food, Sam? I’ll come over and make it Monday night.”
Sam would have to put his foot down. Rose coming over to make dinner would cut into the time she should be looking for a husband, and it would cut into the time that Sam got to spend alone with Elsie. He was honest enough to admit that he enjoyed Elsie’s company, and Rose would only be in the way, even if she was his fake best friend. “Rose,” he said, making his tone hard and unyielding, “Maggie can make out just fine on her own.”
Elsie was trying to be helpful. “I help her when I finish tutoring Wally.”
That only made Rose more determined. “I won’t hear of you helping Maggie, not when I am such a good cook. I like to cook for Sam. We’re the best of friends.”
The last thing Sam wanted was for Rose to feel obligated to him as a friend. It was too much. “We don’t need help with meals, but denki for the offer. You are a kind neighbor, and we all appreciate your treats.”
Rose smiled a condescending smile, as if Sam didn’t know what was good for him and she was going to make him see. Elsie could probably hear his teeth grinding from wher
e she stood.
“Let’s go in and show everyone the cake,” Rose said. She mustered a gracious, unpleasant smile for Elsie. “You were just leaving, weren’t you?”
“Of course,” Elsie said, with more grace than Rose had shown the entire conversation. “Denki again for dinner, Sam. Maggie makes wonderful-gute pizza. Be sure to tell her.”
Rose set her gaze squarely on Sam. “I make appeditlich pizza. My mamm says I could win a prize.”
“I have tried yours,” Sam said, hoping to help Rose shed some of her hostility. “And it is delicious.”
Rose was suddenly all smiles. “Gute. I’ll bring some on Monday night.”
How had she done that? Rose was almost as persistent as Anna Helmuth.
Elsie practically tiptoed to her buggy and hopped into the seat without another word. She gave Sam a tiny wave before snapping the reins and turning her horse toward the road.
Rose watched Elsie’s buggy all the way down the road. “I don’t know, Sam. It doesn’t feel right to me, her coming here like that.”
“What’s wrong with it? Wally needs help, and Elsie is willing to help him.”
“She’s the teacher. She shouldn’t be eating dinner with your family. She’s giving Wally special privileges that aren’t fair to the other children.”
Sam frowned. “Do you think so?”
“Jah. And it’s not proper for her to be at your house, Sam. You’re not married.”
Sam didn’t like the sound of that, but Rose might be right. The Amish could be touchy about nothing at all. Elsie was helping Wally. It had nothing to do with Sam. He growled silently and wrapped his fingers around the back of his neck. That’s how it had started out, but it wasn’t exactly true now. Milking cows and doing farm chores left his mind a lot of time for thinking, and Elsie seemed to wrap herself around his thoughts more and more often. Even if Wally mastered fractions or got really good at spelling words like presumptuous, Sam would be very reluctant to tell Elsie not to come back. She was becoming a brighter and brighter spot to his days than he would have imagined she could. He liked being with her. Was that so bad?
Apparently it was.
“She isn’t the modest, quiet type of girl who should be teaching. She’s just too friendly. That’s the long and short of it.”
He wouldn’t feel guilty about Elsie tutoring Wally if he didn’t enjoy Elsie’s company so much. Was Rose trying to steer him away from trouble?
Sam shook his head. He and Elsie were just friends, tied together in the common goal of helping Wally. “I don’t think any of our neighbors would deny Wally the help he needs just because they’re touchy about the teacher eating dinner at our house.”
“Of course we want to do everything we can for Wally, but there’s got to be a better way.” Rose pressed her lips together. They turned white at the edges before she spoke. “I could tutor him.”
“Rose, your last day of eighth grade, you told me you’d never set foot in a school again. In your last spelling bee, a fourth grader beat you with the word munch.”
“Where did you hear that? That’s just a rumor.”
He chuckled. “Maggie was that fourth grader.”
Rose gave him the stink eye. “I never liked school.”
Sam shrugged. “Elsie is smart, and she knows how to handle Wally. You are a nice girl, Rose, but you were always better at hopscotch than arithmetic.”
“That’s a hesslich thing to say about your best friend.”
Best friend again. Why in the world did she think they were best friends? Though he wanted to, it didn’t seem right to set her straight, especially when she seemed to be so upset. Besides, she was holding a strawberry cake, and he didn’t want to seem ungrateful. He shrugged off his annoyance. “Wally needs to learn his fractions.”
And if the teacher was as pretty as a picture and wonderful pleasant to talk to, what was wrong with that? He couldn’t see it in his heart to make a fuss about it. Surely his neighbors understood it was for Wally’s own good.
“I’m not giving up,” Rose said.
“Giving up what?”
She squared her shoulders. “We need to do what’s best for Wally. And you, Sam. That teacher has talked you into something that is not going to turn out well for either of you. Sometimes a best friend has to do what’s right instead of what’s wanted.” She flashed him a smile. “Let’s take this cake in and show Maggie. You’re going to love it.”
Do what’s right instead of what’s wanted? Surely Rose wasn’t going to try to force herself into the house and teach Wally math. It would be painful for both of them, with or without the cake.
* * *
Anna Helmuth ushered Sam into her house and shut the door against the wind. “Ach, Sam Sensenig, on days like this I wish I had a phone! And a camera.” She clutched at her chest, trying to catch her breath as if she’d just run all the way up Huckleberry Hill. “If I had a phone, I could have called you and told you not to come. My granddaughter isn’t here.”
Sam tried to look puzzled, as if he didn’t know what Anna was talking about. “Your granddaughter? I thought you needed me to look at your hay.”
Anna smiled her twinkly grandmother smile. “Ach, Sam. I don’t care about the hay.”
Felty Helmuth sat in his recliner reading the newspaper. “I care.”
Anna pulled Sam farther into the house. “I wanted you to meet my granddaughter, so I asked you to come check on our hay. I was being tricky, but it doesn’t matter, because she’s not here.”
Sam didn’t even have to try to look disappointed. Elsie had come to his house today because Wally had a doctor’s appointment tomorrow, and Sam wouldn’t get to see her—all because Anna was eager to get her granddaughter married off.
Anna had invited him up to her house because she had told him she was worried about not having enough hay for the winter. Sam had been fully aware the invitation had been a ploy to introduce him to her granddaughter. Amid his disappointment about Elsie, he was also relieved. Sam must have done something recently to please Gotte. His prayers weren’t usually answered in such an obvious way.
“Annie-banannie,” Felty said from his recliner, “even if you had a phone, Sam doesn’t have a phone. You wouldn’t have been able to call him.”
Anna sighed and shook her head. “Oh, Sam, if only you had a phone.”
Sam smiled sadly at Anna, as if he shared her frustration about not having a phone. “It’s all right, Anna. I only came to look at your hay, and I’m sure it’s still here.” He handed Anna the beautiful chocolate cake he’d brought with him. “And I brought you a cake.”
Anna cheered up immediately. She set the cake on the table and gazed at it like a baking trophy. “A cake? You truly do want to impress my granddaughter, don’t you?”
He didn’t want to impress anybody, and he certainly didn’t want Anna to get the wrong idea. “Nae, not at all. We just had an extra cake sitting around, and I thought you might like it.”
Anna’s eyes sparkled as if she were in on the joke. “An extra cake sitting around? What a tease you are.”
He was telling the truth. Nearly every day for two weeks, Rose had brought Sam’s family some sort of dessert, be it cookies or a pie or glazed doughnuts. All homemade, all wonderful delicious, all unnecessary. Rose had been quite offended when Sam put his foot down and told her in no uncertain terms that she was not cooking dinner for his family on the nights Elsie came to tutor. Plump tears had rolled down her cheeks when she whined that she was just trying to be a gute friend. Being a gute friend was one thing—intruding on dinnertime three nights a week was another.
Rose was trying to be a true and loyal friend with all the desserts, but even Sam’s sweet tooth was getting tired. The treats had been piling up, and Sam figured if he gave the cake to Anna and Felty, he wouldn’t have to bury it in the backyard or force-feed it to his bruders.
“Cum, sit,” Anna said, taking his elbow and pulling a chair out from under the table for him. “You�
�re such a thoughtful boy. I didn’t even know you could cook.”
He shifted in his chair. “Rose Mast made it.”
Anna gave him a kindly smile and shook her finger at him. “Now, Sam. I’ve already told you. You can’t marry my granddaughter if you’re dating Rose Mast. She is a lovely girl, but you are meant for my granddaughter. You young people have such a hard time following directions. I only wish I had a camera so I could take a picture of her and show you how pretty she is, though there was never a girl with so much beauty and so little vanity.”
Sam gave Anna a half smile. He’d already tried being direct and blunt with Anna. He was just going to have to put her off until the granddaughter left town or found a boyfriend. The trouble was, if the granddaughter was as desperate as Anna hinted she was, she’d never find a boyfriend. “How long is your granddaughter going to be in town?”
Anna sat down and patted his hand. “Now don’t you worry about that. She’ll be here long enough.”
Long enough to drive Sam crazy.
Long enough that he probably couldn’t avoid her forever. He’d have to meet her. Even if the granddaughter was desperate, she could probably be made to see reason. He’d just tell her he wasn’t interested, and then Anna would stop pestering him. He hated to hurt anyone’s feelings, but he no longer had time for Anna’s persistence.
“I would really like to talk to your granddaughter, Anna. The sooner the better.”
This made Anna so happy, she would have exploded if she’d been a firecracker. “Even without seeing a picture? Why, Sam Sensenig, you are even more wunderbarr than I had hoped.”
“What is her name?”
The wrinkles gathered around her mouth. “Well, her given name is Elizabeth.”
Sam curled his lips upward. If he was going to have to meet the girl, he might as well be cheerful about it. “That’s a very pretty name. I like it.”
Anna nodded. “Then you should call her Elizabeth—whatever you like the best.”
A Courtship on Huckleberry Hill Page 15