Amish Triplets for Christmas

by Carrie Lighte

  “You caught what the kinner had, didn’t you?” Sawyer asked accusingly. “I don’t think you should be here at school today.”

  Hannah drew herself up to her full height. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she objected adamantly. “I’m fine. Listen—the scholars are arriving. Denki for your concern, but lessons are about to begin. I’ll walk you to the door.”

  * * *

  Sawyer hung back before following her outside. He knew not to argue with a woman who had made up her mind as definitively as Hannah had. But all the way back to the farm and throughout the day, he thought about her frail form in his arms. She had looked as pale as a sheet.

  Finally, he decided that she may have made up her mind, but so had he. When class was letting out, he hitched up the horse and clopped to the schoolhouse. Everyone else was gone, and he knew he could find Sarah, Simon and Samuel inside helping Hannah wash the blackboards.

  “Hello, kinner,” he said. “Hello, Hannah.”

  “Hello, Daed,” they chorused as Hannah quickly made her way to his side.

  “Is something wrong?” she whispered, her brow knitted.

  “Not at all,” he faltered, suddenly feeling foolish. “I have an errand to run in town. I thought I’d bring you all home on the way.”

  “That’s very thoughtful,” Hannah said skeptically, “but we’re in the opposite direction from town. You will have to backtrack.”

  Sawyer shrugged. “It’s no bother.”

  Hannah tipped her head as if about to expose his falsehood with a joke, but then she seemed to change her mind. “Kumme, let’s not keep your daed waiting,” she said to the children.

  At the buggy, he took Hannah’s graceful fingers in one of his hands and supported her elbow with the other, easing her into the front seat.

  “You are being too kind.” She laughed breezily.

  The sensation of her satiny skin against his caused the tiny hairs along his arms to stand on end. His head spun and his stomach somersaulted so fiercely he wondered if he was coming down with something himself. Yet as he sat beside Hannah, who engaged the children with amusing anecdotes all the way home, he felt anything but sick. Indeed, he felt better than he had in a long, long time.

  * * *

  “I can’t eat this.” Hannah’s grandfather threw the crust onto his plate. “It’s tough.”

  Sarah looked as if she’d been slapped. She had been so pleased Hannah allowed her to help, but in her enthusiasm she’d added too much flour to the bread dough.

  You are the one who is tough, Hannah thought.

  She held her glass in front of her mouth so her grandfather wouldn’t see her lips moving.

  “You mustn’t pay him any mind, Sarah. He hasn’t got all his teeth, so it’s difficult for him to chew. This is a fine first effort. If we don’t eat it all, I can use what’s left for bread crumbs in a stuffing.”

  “It tastes gut if you soak it in your gravy,” Samuel said, a kindness that made Hannah want to hug him.

  Simon added, “Or dip it in your milk.”

  Sarah nodded bravely, her eyes brimming.

  Hannah remembered all too well how many times her grandfather’s cutting words reduced her to near tears when she was a child. She thought she was past being hurt by his criticism, but that evening, after Sawyer and the children left, he approached her in the parlor, where she was patching a tear in his pants.

  “I saw him bring you home,” he said.

  She was so surprised by her grandfather’s statement, at first she didn’t know what he was talking about. She searched his face for a clue.

  “Sawyer Plank,” her grandfather explained.

  “Jah, he said he was running an errand in town,” she mouthed. “But I suspect since we had been ill, he wanted to spare us walking in the heat.”

  Her grandfather jabbed a finger in the air in Hannah’s direction. “You are too old to be acting like a schoolgirl being courted home from a singing. Especially with your employer.”

  He shuffled off to his bedroom without waiting for a reply.

  Hannah’s eyes momentarily welled, but her hurt was quickly replaced by a sense of fury. As weak as she’d felt that morning, her grandfather’s remark sparked a new vigor, and she pricked her fingers so many times she finally tossed her mending aside. She didn’t know what offended her more: that her grandfather demonstrated so little appreciation for the fact she was doing her best to earn extra income, which obligated them to maintain friendly rapport with Sawyer, or that her grandfather would begrudge her a ride home after she’d been ill.

  However, by the time she’d finished slamming through her evening chores, she was physically and emotionally spent. She sat on the sofa and picked up her grandfather’s pants to finish stitching the patch. As she sewed, she realized how threadbare the fabric had become. It made her think of the many sacrifices her grandfather must have made in order to raise her and her sister.

  Besides the Lord, who had ever supported her and cared for her for as many years and in as many ways as her family? The nanny opportunity was a blessing, but it was temporary. Soon Sawyer and the children would return to Ohio. As fond as she was of the Plank family, her relationship with them was a way to earn money. Her life was in Willow Creek, where her grandfather was—she was sure that was all he meant to remind her of with his cutting tone.

  It was past eleven o’clock when she finally closed the door to her bedroom and knelt beside her bed. Lord, she prayed, please forgive my anger. Thank You for providing for me through Groossdaadi all of these years. Please bless him with a gut night’s sleep and help Sarah, Simon and Samuel to get the rest they need, as well.

  But it was Sawyer who filled her mind’s eye as she lay sleepless in the dark. As humid as the air was, when she recalled his arms bracing her when she stumbled on the steps or his masculine grip as he aided her into the buggy, a shiver ran down her spine. He had treated her as if she was even more precious cargo than her grandfather’s dollhouse!

  The thought made her feel as giddy as a schoolgirl—and then she remembered her grandfather’s words: “You are too old to be acting like a schoolgirl being courted home from a singing. Especially with your employer.” She feared her grandfather had hit the nail on the head: instead of behaving like “every bit the woman” Sawyer believed she was, she had been acting like a teenager with a crush, swooning and giggling over his smallest friendly gesture.

  She reminded herself that such feelings were fleeting—and soon Sawyer would be fleeting, too. Meanwhile, what would he think if he knew she felt this way? Even from a distance, her grandfather had noticed her juvenile levity. What if Sawyer had, too? Would he think she was too irresponsible and immature to oversee his children? Would he dismiss her as a “desperate Doris”?

  She could neither risk losing her nanny job nor could she stand the comparison, so before closing her eyes a final time for sleep, she resolved to behave more appropriately in the future.

  * * *

  Exhausted as he was, Sawyer tossed and turned, wondering if Hannah knew how holding her that morning had affected him. Had she felt his hands tremble? Did she think he was terribly presumptuous showing up to usher her home after school and again taking her by the arm? He hadn’t been able to help himself. She seemed so delicate, and no matter how vehemently she objected, Sawyer didn’t think she ought to walk in the sweltering weather.

  Even toward the end of her illness, Eliza used to claim she felt better than her health implied. Sawyer remembered one time when she patted the bed, gesturing for him to sit with her. Her voice was raspy and her breathing labored. He tried to hush her, but she said it was very important that he listen to what she had to say.

  “After I am gone,” she began, “there is something I want you to do for me.”

  Sawyer stood up. “I’ll have none of that—�
� he protested, but she clasped his hand and pulled him back into a sitting position.

  “Sawyer, my dear, you must listen and do what I ask,” she pleaded. “First, remember me to the kinner always.”

  Sawyer nodded. “I will,” he promised. His eyes grew moist, but he couldn’t let his wife see how her words pained him.

  “I want you to remarry—”

  “Neh!” he exclaimed, jumping up and pacing to the window, his back toward her. “Never.”

  His wife did something then that surprised him—she laughed. From her sickbed, she laughed.

  He spun on his heel. “Is this a joke?” he fumed.

  “Neh, neh,” she softly shushed him. “I couldn’t be more serious about anything in my life. It’s just that you sounded like Samuel the day we told him he’d eventually grow up and love a girl and get married and move away from us.”

  Sawyer stood where he was, tears streaming down his face as he stared out the window.

  “Sawyer,” Eliza continued. “The kinner need a mamm.”

  “You’re their mamm,” he argued belligerently.

  She continued as if she hadn’t heard. “And you need a wife to love you.”

  “Your love is enough to last a lifetime,” he heard himself say.

  Eliza coughed several times, and Sawyer returned to the bed to kneel by her side. When she had caught her breath again, she stroked his hair.

  “You have so much love to give,” she whispered. “You need to give it to a wife.” Then, teasing, she added, “Waste not, want not.”

  “There will never be another like you, Eliza,” he cried, burying his head in her shoulder.

  “Neh, but there will be another,” she said firmly. “When you find her, you have my blessing, because I know the woman you choose—and the woman the Lord provides for you—will be worthy of your love.”

  Remembering, Sawyer kicked at his sheets and shifted to his side. He hardly knew Hannah. How preposterous it was to think he might feel a stirring of emotion for her as a woman. Yes, she took good care of the children, but so would anyone he hired in Ohio. And Ohio was where his home was, where his livelihood was and where he was meant to be. This life in Pennsylvania was temporary, and so was the brief kindling of connection he felt with Hannah. It couldn’t hold a candle to the steadfast love he’d shared with Eliza during their six-year marriage.

  I’m acting like a charmed schoolboy, he thought. He decided he must take care not to confuse his appreciation for Hannah as a hired nanny with any other emotion. From now on, he’d be more mindful that their relationship was built on business and more careful to keep his distance.

  Chapter Seven

  Hannah’s decision to behave in a manner more becoming of a mature schoolteacher and nanny when she was around Sawyer proved easier to practice than she expected. Tuesday through Thursday, Sawyer dropped the children off at school and picked them up with nary a word about anything other than the weather, which remained uncomfortably humid.

  On Friday morning, it was Doris who greeted Sawyer at the base of the stairs, so when Hannah saw him there, she returned to her classroom. She figured if Doris wanted to sidle up to him with another apple crisp, she could give it her best effort. He’d probably grumble later that it sat in his stomach like a brick anyway.

  She immediately scolded herself for having such stingy thoughts. She had been uncharacteristically peevish for most of the week, and she couldn’t put a finger on what was bothering her. She only knew that once the children left for the evening, she hastily finished her chores and retreated to her room to prepare lessons for the following day. She reasoned there was no sense remaining in the parlor; it wasn’t as if her grandfather ever initiated a conversation, and he hardly appeared interested in the topics she brought to his attention.

  But her cranky mood always vanished when she was with the children, whose wholesome inquisitiveness and entertaining chatter as they walked home from school buoyed her spirit.

  “Can we show Daed the stream tonight?” Samuel asked for the second time that week.

  “May we show Daed the stream tonight?” Sarah corrected him in her best teacher voice.

  “Please?” Simon added.

  Hannah hesitated. Over the past few days she had begun to suspect Sawyer was avoiding her as much as she was avoiding him.

  “Your daed has seen many streams before,” she said.

  “Jah, but this is a special stream,” Samuel said.

  “What makes it special?”

  “It’s your stream,” he said.

  Hannah was tickled by the sentiment, but said, “I think after a difficult day of working in the fields, your daed’s feet are sore and he doesn’t want to walk all the way to the stream.”

  “But that is exactly why we must take him there,” Simon contended. “He can take off his shoes and socks and soak his sore feet in the water. It always makes my toes feel better.”

  Hannah chuckled at Simon’s logic. “Jah, I know it does, Simon. I have to mention to your daed that your shoes are pinching your toes. I think you’re going through a growth spurt. It’s permissible for you to go barefoot now, but later in the fall, you’ll need proper-fitting shoes.”

  “But can we show him the stream?”

  “Jah, you may,” she replied.

  If it meant that much to the children, she didn’t see harm in allowing them to take their father to the stream. Besides, they knew the way there; it wasn’t as if she had to accompany them. She would wait to see how Sawyer reacted to the suggestion. She hoped by that evening any awkwardness between them would have passed and Sawyer would know how sensible she was, despite her temporary lapse in appropriate behavior.

  But that evening, it was John Plank and Doris, not Sawyer, who arrived to gather the children.

  Hannah was so surprised, she rushed across the grass to the buggy and blurted out, “Where is Sawyer? Is he alright?”

  “What a nervous Nellie you are,” scoffed Doris. “He’s fine.”

  “The boys had work left to accomplish,” explained John. “There may be bad weather tomorrow, so they wanted to finish as much as they could tonight.”

  Doris boasted, “After I surprised them when I dropped in to cook a hearty meal, they had the strength to complete their work. John and I thought since my horse was already out, we’d use my buggy to pick up the triplets. Besides, as you can guess, John can’t get into and out of the buggy without an adult to help him.”

  Hannah marveled that there was no end to what Doris would do to catch a man’s attention. But she doubted her efforts would amount to anything anyway; Sawyer didn’t appear interested in her.

  After the triplets had been rounded up and the buggy was ready to depart, John snapped his fingers and said, “I almost forgot. Sawyer had a message for you.”

  Anticipation fluttered in Hannah’s chest. “Jah?”

  “He said if it is raining tomorrow, please don’t expect Sarah, Simon and Samuel,” John stated. “Although he said, of course, you’d be compensated for the full week, regardless of the weather.”

  Hannah’s cheeks burned. Sawyer’s offer further emphasized that their connection was based solely on an employment relationship, and she found it insulting he’d suggest she expected payment for a service she didn’t provide.

  “Please tell Sawyer I said he might better spend his money on new shoes for the boys—their feet have outgrown the pairs they have now.”

  She strode toward the house without another word.

  * * *

  Sawyer swatted at a fly buzzing around his ear as he pitched hay in the horses’ stalls. He felt as ornery as a mule. Admittedly the yumasetta casserole Doris made was delicious, but he would have preferred eating one of his uncle’s unsavory concoctions in silence to listening to Doris prattling at di
nner. Furthermore, because of Doris’s insistence that she and John pick up the children, Sawyer missed seeing Hannah that evening. If it rained, he wouldn’t see her on Saturday, either.

  He noticed she’d been out of sorts all week, and he was concerned he had offended her by his behavior on Monday. Or was it an issue of money—perhaps taking care of the children was worth more than he was paying her, especially when they were sick? Did she regret taking on the position after all? At least if it rained tomorrow, she’d have a day to herself. Perhaps that was what she desired.

  He resolved to speak to her candidly about it on Saturday if it didn’t rain, or on Sunday if it did. Church was scheduled to meet at James and Amelia Hooley’s house this Sabbath. The only obstacle Sawyer could foresee was that Doris was sure to be around, since she lived with them, but he was determined to somehow seek Hannah out alone.

  Much to Sawyer’s relief, by the time he returned to the house, Doris was gone.

  “Are the kinner in bed?” he asked his uncle.

  “Doris said they were asleep before their heads hit the pillow. Hannah Lantz must keep them busy and well fed. They are sleeping better, jah?”

  “Jah,” Sawyer affirmed, grinning. “She is doing them gut.”

  “She is doing you all gut,” his uncle replied. “Doris was right—a house needs a woman’s touch to make it a home.”

  Sawyer wondered what he was getting at. He shrugged and said, “Jah, I am glad I hired her.”

  “Speaking of that,” John said, “Hannah rejected your offer of being compensated if it rains tomorrow and Samuel, Sarah and Simon stay here on the farm. She said your money is better spent on new shoes for the kinner.”

  “She said what?” Sawyer asked. “What were her exact words?”

  John snorted. “I didn’t write them down, man! I only recall that she bristled a bit at the mention of her salary.”

  Sawyer was flummoxed. Even when he didn’t speak with Hannah in person, he managed to bungle his words. He’d have to set it right first thing in the morning.

  But when he awoke on Saturday, a heavy rain was thrumming against the roof, thwarting his plans and making for another agonizingly long day without talking to Hannah.