by Jo Ann Brown
Toby had to admit the precaution made sense, but he didn’t have to like it. After more than a week and a half of doing exercises and spending too much of his time doing little more than sitting, he was itching to work with Bay Boy.
“Whatcha doing?” asked Natalie as she trotted to where he stood.
She wore bright pink shorts with polka dots and a garish orange shirt with a stylized cat on it. Her hair looked as if it hadn’t been brushed, and neither her sneakers nor her socks matched.
“Watching Bay Boy. Does Sarah know you’re out here?” He’d seen the girl wandering into the stables earlier but had figured she’d found something else to do by now. The grooms had mentioned there were two litters of kittens hiding in the hay stored behind the main building. If Natalie had been looking for them, she must have given up.
Natalie shrugged. “Sarah didn’t get here early enough. If she wants me, she knows where to find me. She knows I love horses.”
He translated that to mean Natalie had slipped out of the house before Sarah had arrived for the day. He waited for the irritation he expected to feel when realizing that he should keep an eye on the girl until Sarah came looking for her. It didn’t buzz through him, and he was surprised to discover he was curious why the girl had sought him out.
Natalie scrambled to the top of the rail fence with an ease he had to envy. At times, it seemed as if it’d been someone else, instead of him, who used to be able to scale fences with ease. His hands could recall the firm, rough strength of a wooden rail beneath them as he vaulted over.
He grinned. Maybe Sarah was right. In some ways, he didn’t act older than the kids who needed a goal to work hard. He should have laughed along with her when she’d said that. As he imagined laughing with her, seeing her eyes crinkle, he knew he’d been a fool to resist the impulse when they’d been sitting together on the porch last week. It was better in the long run that he hadn’t, but letting the moment go past felt like a loss.
“He’s special, ain’t so?” Natalie asked.
He smiled at the phrase she’d learned from Sarah. “I think he could be.”
“Bay Boy is strong.” Her gaze followed the powerful horse galloping around the pasture. “Have you been working with him long?”
“About a year and a half, though I started training him when he wasn’t much more than a foal.”
“Did you start him off with a halter or a lead?”
He looked at the young girl beside him. She spoke with the authority and knowledge of a seasoned groom. “A lead.”
“That’s good.”
“Ja, I agree. But why do you think so?”
Not taking her gaze from the horse, she said, “A lead lets the horse see you at the same time you’re teaching it to listen to your commands.” She leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees, shifting to keep her balance on the top rail. “Horses don’t like surprises. If you want them to trust you, you can’t surprise them.”
“That’s true.” He waited, wanting to gauge if she knew what she was talking about or just repeating what she’d heard in the barn.
“Bay Boy is special,” she said again.
“Why do you think that?”
“He’s well built, and he eats like a teenager.” She grinned. “Daddy said so on the phone.” Her smile vanished as she looked at the horse.
Guessing she wasn’t supposed to be eavesdropping on her daed’s calls, Toby replied, “Eating well is important, ain’t so?”
She smiled again. “Running is hard, and if he doesn’t eat a lot, he can’t run fast. He’s calm.” She glanced toward his bandaged ankle. “Getting scared by a cat doesn’t count.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“He’s going to be the best.” The girl continued to list the reasons Bay Boy would make a great racer.
He listened, impressed with her insight, though he shouldn’t have been surprised. The few times he’d seen Summerhays since his arrival, Natalie’s daed seldom spoke of anything other than the horses in his stables and his hopes for them. Kinder soaked up everything they heard...even things adults didn’t realize they’d overheard.
“Ach, here you are!” came Sarah’s voice from behind them.
Natalie jumped from the fence, her smile vanishing. The girl nodded but didn’t hide a rebellious expression when Sarah reminded her she should have let someone in the house know where she was going.
“I know,” Natalie said.
“Gut. Now hurry inside. Your French tutor is waiting for you.”
The girl muttered, “Je déteste parler français!” Her words were understandable to Toby, who knew no French but could read her body language. Her distaste for her lessons was as clear as if she’d shouted it. She stamped toward the house.
He turned to Sarah and couldn’t help smiling when he saw how the morning sunshine glowed off her downy cheeks. As always, that single strand of bright red hair refused to stay pinned beneath her kapp, and it edged her cheek to accent its gentle curve.
“How many times do you have to repeat the same thing before they listen?” asked Toby as Sarah pushed the vagrant hair into place.
“I’ll let you know when I find out.” She sighed. “It’s not easy to scold them when they’re doing what kids do.”
“Did you say she’s learning French? During the summer? Did she fall behind in her work during school?”
“No, Natalie is very smart. All four kinder have regular lessons. Language, swimming, dance, gymnastics, art classes.”
“When do they have time to play?”
She grimaced. “On rare occasions, and when they do, they don’t seem to know how to play the games our kinder do. They tend to go looking for trouble inside instead of finding a game to enjoy outside. They’re learning foreign languages and how to swim, but not how to play.”
“That’s sad.”
“I’ve been teaching them tag and a few other outdoors games.” She walked to the fence and looked at Bay Boy and the other horses that had been let out with him. “Ah, now I see what lured Natalie out here. She loves everything about horses.”
“Does Summerhays realize how much she knows?”
“I don’t think anyone can be unaware of it. Natalie breathes and sleeps and dreams and talks endlessly about horses.” Her smile faded as the girl’s had, and for a moment, Sarah seemed as wistful as Natalie had while talking about Bay Boy. “I wish...”
“You wish what?”
Her battle with herself was visible on her face. She wanted to say something but was unsure if she should.
He halted himself from telling her she could trust him, that he wouldn’t repeat what she said. Doing so would create another strand connecting them together. He had to figure out a way to pull apart the ones in place, not make more.
If she was aware of his struggle, there was no sign of it in her voice as she replied, “The kinder are eager to spend more time with their parents, but Mr. and Mrs. Summerhays are busy with other aspects of their lives. They don’t offer their kinder much other than a nice home and plenty to eat, nice clothes to wear and educational experiences. You haven’t been upstairs, but Natalie must have close to a hundred plastic and porcelain horses on shelves in her room. The other kids have as many toys, and there are enough books for a public library. They’ve got everything they need, just not what they want.”
“So what are you going to do about it?”
* * *
Sarah closed her mouth that had gaped at Toby’s forthright question. What was she going to do about the youngsters’ longing to spend more time with their parents? From what she’d learned from Natalie, Ian and Jessica Summerhays had concentrated on their own lives for as long as the kind could remember. At first, Natalie as Jessica’s daughter and Alexander as Ian’s son had believed their parents would pay more attention to them after they were married. Nothing changed
, though, even when Ethan and Mia were born. The girl said she and her siblings had hoped a move from New York City to Washington County two years ago would mean their daed wouldn’t have to work endless hours and their mamm would spend more time with them.
Again, nothing changed. In fact, their daed was frequently gone overnight to New York City for business meetings, and their mamm seemed to come home only long enough to unpack and repack for her next trip.
Sarah had no doubts the parents loved their kinder, because they’d asked many questions during her job interview, and Mr. Summerhays had insisted on a background check. Each time either parent traveled, they brought home wunderbaar gifts for the kinder. They never seemed to comprehend that what their kids wanted most was time with them.
“Well?” he prompted when she didn’t answer. “You’re here for a reason, aren’t you?”
“Ja.” She’d applied for the job to help her brothers pay the bills while they made their sawmill, Christmas tree business and their few fertile fields profitable.
That wasn’t what Toby meant. God must have brought her to this family for a reason. Could it have been to help the kinder by assisting their parents to see how much they were missing in not spending time with the mischievous quartet? The kids had done everything they could, being so outrageous she couldn’t imagine what they’d do next, in an effort to get their parents to notice them.
Leaning her elbows on the fence, she said, “I’ve got to think about how to approach Mr. and Mrs. Summerhays.”
“With the truth is the best way. They’ve pretty much handed their responsibility for their kinder to you and the others working in the house.”
“I realize that.” She wished her brothers would be a bit more like Ian and Jessica Summerhays, instead of judging everything she said and did as if she were as untrustworthy as a toddler. “However, I don’t want to upset them so much they’ll get angry. If I get fired, I won’t be able to help further.”
He gave her a wry grin. “You won’t get fired. From what I’ve heard, the kinder have chased away every other nanny before you. One didn’t stay a full day. Until you came along, the longest stint of any nanny was less than a month. Short of rustling Mr. Summerhays’s favorite horses, I can’t imagine anything you could do that would get you fired.”
Sarah had to admit he was right. Within hours of her first day at the house, she’d realized her main job was to keep the kinder’s parents from worrying about their offspring. But it still didn’t feel right to speak about Mr. and Mrs. Summerhays when they weren’t there to defend themselves.
When she told him that, his shoulders relaxed from their taut lines. “To be honest, I wasn’t sure how you’d take my advice.”
“I want to help this family.”
“I know. They are like your family at this point.”
“They are.” She turned to head into the house, then paused. “We’re having church this Sunday. Would you like to komm?”
“I don’t have a way to get there.”
“Of course you do. I’ll come by. It’s not more than about a ten-minute drive from my house.” She chuckled. “Not that I drive often, because it’s quicker if I cut through the woods and the fields between our farm and the stables.”
She was sure he was going to say no, so she was amazed when he replied, “I’ll go with you.”
“Gut. Our services start at eight, so I’ll be here about a half hour before.” She faced him. “I’m glad you’ll be joining us.”
“As I’m going to be here another month, it’ll be nice to meet your neighbors.”
“Our Leit is welcoming.”
“As you’ve been with an injured man who’s added to your responsibilities.”
“I haven’t minded.” She looked forward to talking with him.
“I see how much you love taking care of these kinder. Anyone who spends more than a few seconds in this house can see how important this job is to you. That’s why I half expected you to tell me to mind my business.”
“I wouldn’t do that.”
“No, I suppose you wouldn’t, but, Sarah, I want you to know I wouldn’t suggest anything to endanger your job. I know how important it is to you.”
She stiffened, biting her tongue. Toby couldn’t mean his words the way she was hearing them. She didn’t want to believe he was being overprotective like her brothers and as Wilbur had. Toby wasn’t telling her what to do. He was being honest as he tried to help her make the best decision.
Right?
She wished she could be sure about that, but she wasn’t going to make the same mistake again and let another man think she needed his help to keep her from making mistakes.
Chapter Eight
When Sarah drew her family’s black buggy to a stop along the curved driveway in front of the Summerhays house, she wasn’t astonished to see Toby sitting on the bottom porch step. She wondered how long he’d been waiting there and how long it’d taken him to maneuver down the stairs. A faint sheen of sweat on his forehead warned he hadn’t been sitting there for more than a few minutes.
Nobody would be awake in the house before eight on a Sunday morning. It was the one day Mr. Summerhays slept late, and the kinder knew to be quiet until he woke. She’d seen motions in the stables, but those had been slow and she guessed whoever was tending to the horses wished he was still in bed.
Climbing out of the buggy, she watched Toby push himself up and rest his weight on the crutches. His dark coat had buttons. It must have belonged to Mr. Summerhays. With it, he wore a simple white shirt and his jeans and boots.
Lifting a folded mutze coat and vest out of the buggy, she handed them to Toby. “These should fit.”
“Danki.” He shed his coat. The vest and the coat were a bit taut across the chest, but he was able to close them with the hooks and eyes. When she held out a black felt hat, he asked, “Where did you get these?”
“They belong to my brother Benjamin. He’s the taller of my brothers, so I figured there was a chance the clothes might fit you. Neither of them will be attending church this morning. They’ve got two cows in labor, and one had a tough time with her last calf. Or so they were told when they bought her.”
Taking his other borrowed coat, she draped it over a chair on the porch. She turned toward him and pressed a hand over her heart as she tried not to gasp.
Toby was settling the hat, which was a bit small, on his head. It completed his transformation. Gone was the Englisch-looking horse trainer, and in his place was an Amish man. The black clothing contrasted with the streaks of gold in his hair falling along the standing collar of the coat, emphasizing the paler color as well as the shadowed crags of his face.
She was glad her face didn’t display her shock. Or at least he didn’t seem to notice as he made his way on his crutches toward the buggy.
“Nice horse,” he said as he paused by the horse that was the same black as the buggy. “Slim, but with strong legs.”
“Charmer came with us from Indiana.”
“Charmer?”
“It was part of the much longer name Charmer had before he was retired from training to become a racehorse.” She stroked the horse’s nose. “That way, we didn’t have to teach him another name.” She smiled at the big horse. “Charmer is a charming guy. Somehow, he can smell an apple a mile away and, as soon as he knows it’s nearby, he always manages to get his teeth on it. Not by stealing it or begging. Just by looking adoring and pitiful at the same time so you can’t help but give him the apple.”
“Sort of like Mia, who finds a way to get her hands on the last cookie.”
She shook her head. “No, more like Alexander. Mia is young, so she’s not as aware of what she’s doing as her big brother is. Be careful if either he or Natalie start complimenting you. They’re sure to ask for a favor afterward.”
“So it’s not just me they see
as an easy mark?”
“Ach! I didn’t realize they’d tried something with you.”
“Last night they began to talk about how gut the ice cream is at the shop in the village. Wouldn’t it be a shame, they pondered at length, if someone as kind and generous as I am didn’t have the opportunity to try it before I left Salem?”
“That sounds like their usual style. Did you give in?”
“No, though I helped them raid the refrigerator to find pie from supper.”
When she laughed, she listened for him to join in. He didn’t. She’d never heard him laugh, though he smiled more each passing day.
Instead, he reached to climb into the passenger side of the buggy. “Gut foot first.” He smiled.
When his eyes sparkled like stars admiring themselves in a deep pond, every bit of oxygen seemed to vanish from her lungs. She was aware of his strong arm draped across her shoulders and his lean leg pressed against her skirt. They’d been close many times during his physical therapy sessions, but standing within the arc of his arm now seemed so intimate.
He lifted himself into the buggy, and she handed him his crutches without looking at him. Hurrying around the buggy to get in herself, she took the reins.
The clatter of driveway gravel against the metal wheels was loud. Once they reached the paved road, the horseshoes and the wheels combined to make a resonant sound that followed them toward the road leading into the hollow. She steered the buggy around a large pothole. Though Charmer would have skirted it, he didn’t always keep the buggy behind him in mind.
Beside her, Toby was silent as he scanned the fields and the foothills rising to the Green Mountains to the east. The lush foliage layered the hillsides in every possible shade of green. She wondered how the view compared with Texas’s hill country, but she didn’t want to intrude into his thoughts.
Each time new questions filled her head, she realized how little she knew about Toby Christner. Somehow, he straddled the two worlds, Amish and Englisch, in a way she hadn’t managed. She wanted to ask him how he did it, but to voice her curiosity might disclose her uncertainty about remaining Amish. She couldn’t speak of that to anyone, because she didn’t want her brothers discovering she was thinking of becoming Englisch.