by Jo Ann Brown
Miriam stood at her desk on the raised platform in front of a wall covered with blackboard paint. A whiteboard was set on an easel beside her desk, and simple math problems were displayed on it.
“Scholars, our guests have arrived,” she said as she walked past the desks toward the door. “Let me greet them, and then we’ll introduce everyone.”
The tall teacher welcomed Sarah and Toby and the kinder to the school. The Summerhays kids grinned when Miriam said how much the scholars were looking forward to playing softball with them during recess.
“First, we have work to do.” Miriam called out three names, and two boys and a girl stood.
They were each close to the age of the Summerhays kinder. The newcomers looked at Sarah, who nodded, amazed at how shy her usually raucous charges were.
“What about me?” asked Mia. “I’m not old enough for school.”
“Mia, komm with me.” Miriam held out her hand. “I’ve got a special seat for you.”
Soon the Englisch kinder were sitting with their plain counterparts and working together on the lessons assigned for the day. Mia sat in the front row with the smallest scholars. She grinned as she bent her head over a workbook and pointed to a picture of a rabbit before she began to color it. As eager as she was to attend school with her older sister and brothers, coming to the one-room schoolhouse was an extra special treat for her.
Sarah smiled as Miriam paused beside her. Keeping her voice low so they didn’t disturb the scholars, Sarah said, “Danki for letting them come here, Miriam. They’re having a wunderbaar time. Learning about the lives of their plain neighbors is going to make them comfortable with them.”
“Some of the scholars’ parents have expressed concern about the Summerhays family offering an invitation in return.”
“I understand.”
“Gut.” Miriam seemed about to add more but went to a student who had a question for her.
In her wake, Sarah’s smile vanished. She should have guessed a few of the plain parents wouldn’t want their kinder spending time at an Englisch house where they’d see toys and gadgets that could lure a young person away from an Amish life. Did people think that of her, too? That she was considering leaving because of fancy electronic devices?
She sighed. If she did jump the fence, it would be because of what the Englisch world would allow her to do for others, not what enticements it offered to her. Nobody would understand that, either. She prayed her brothers would change their minds, but that was as likely as snow falling on a hot August morning.
* * *
Toby stood to one side as the kids ran and squealed during a short afternoon break, tossing leaves into the air and at each other. Most were chattering about the upcoming fair. He knew none of them had gone before, because there hadn’t been a settlement last year.
“You look as if you’d like to play with them,” said Sarah as she joined him to watch the scholars.
“Why not? They’re having a great time, and I always enjoyed recess.”
“Did you go to school in Texas? Are their schools similar to ours?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I was too old for school by the time we moved there. I’m not sure how many schools I went to, though I know one year it was six different ones.”
“In one year?”
He nodded.
“I’ve never heard of anyone who moved six times in one year.”
“Now you have.”
She blinked when she heard the regret in his voice. He was glad he’d kept the bitterness hidden.
Maybe not well enough, because she said, “I’ve been curious why your family moved so often.”
Toby didn’t answer right away. He’d been asked about that as many times as they’d relocated from one district to another. Learning ways to avoid answering had become a habit, but he wanted to be honest with Sarah.
Drawing her closer to the tree so they were less likely to be overheard, he said, “The answer is simple. My daed is a man who’s sure he knows everything. Well, if not everything, then more than anyone he’s talking to.”
“Uh-oh.” Her eyes widened, and compassion filled them.
“Ja, uh-oh describes it. Not many people like being told they are wrong by someone who never doubts his opinions. Daed didn’t care if the person he was speaking to was Englisch or plain or ordained or not. He felt others needed to accept his point of view without question.”
“That wouldn’t have worked here where everyone is working together to build our Ordnung. No one’s voice should be louder than anyone else’s.”
“I agree, but Daed wouldn’t. If the person he’d cornered didn’t agree with him, he tried to browbeat the person into accepting he was right. People got tired of trying to avoid him or being stuck listening to him, so Daed would decide it was a waste of time to try to enlighten the others. That’s what he always called it. Enlightening the foolish.”
“He never saw his mistakes?”
“Never. We would move to a new district, and I’d have such high hopes. This time wouldn’t be the same.” He sighed. “I know Mamm felt that way, too, though she didn’t complain—not once—when Daed would come home and announce we were leaving for another place where he hoped to find like-minded folks.”
“You mean, people who agreed with him.”
“That’s what he’s been looking for.” He sighed. “I’ve tried to forgive him for dragging us from place to place.”
“It must have been hard for a kind to understand.”
“It was. That’s why when I found work at J.J.’s ranch I refused to leave with them. I’ve lost count of how many times they’ve moved since then.”
“You’ve found the home you’ve wanted.” Her eyes didn’t meet his, so he couldn’t guess what she was thinking. “No wonder you’re so eager for your boss to get you home.” She flashed him a feeble smile before going to where her friend was calling the scholars in at recess’s end.
Toby didn’t move to follow. His gut warned him he’d made a big mistake, but he couldn’t guess what it was. Sarah wouldn’t judge him for failing to forgive his daed, would she? He thought of how many times she’d forgiven her brothers and sighed. He might be able to leave Harmony Creek Hollow without breaking any ties, because it felt as if, with a handful of kind words, she’d severed everything between them.
Chapter Fourteen
The kinder sat in the middle seat of Hank Puente’s van, except for Ethan, who’d claimed the front seat. The little boy was chattering about the things he planned to do at the county fairgrounds, though he had no idea what would be there. Ethan had asked Sarah a slew of questions during breakfast, and to many she’d had to reply she didn’t know. She’d never been to the fairgrounds, either.
Hank, the Englisch driver, listened as if everything the kind said was of the utmost importance. Sarah guessed he’d heard it many times before from youngsters who were excited about attending the fair.
Mia was half-asleep with her head on Sarah’s lap. The little girl had been so wound up last night she hadn’t slept well. Smoothing the kind’s hair toward her braids, Sarah noticed Alexander’s head was bobbing, too. She hoped fatigue wouldn’t end up making them leave the grounds earlier than she’d planned.
She wished to celebrate the excellent news Toby had received yesterday. His doktor was pleased with how Toby’s ankle was healing. Though the doktor wanted him to continue with physical therapy for another two weeks, Toby now could walk with a cane rather than crutches as long as his ankle wasn’t too painful.
She hoped he wouldn’t put too much stress on the muscles by leaving his crutches in Salem, so he had to rely only on the cane. Natalie had assured her after checking the particulars on the county fair’s website that it would be possible to rent a wheelchair at a booth near the parking lot. The obstacle would be to persuade Toby to use it.
One thing most of all: Toby wouldn’t stay any longer than necessary.
Nothing she did could change that, not even if she offered him her heart.
Ethan’s cheer from the front seat startled Sarah out of her unwelcome reverie. It also woke his younger sister and announced they’d reached the fairgrounds. The flat open fields were about half a mile from the forested edge of a cliff that dropped to the Hudson River and the village of Schuylerville. Buildings, many of them long, low barns with open sides, were painted white and set in neat rows on either side of a pedestrian road. Smaller booths and rides covered with bulbs trying to outglow the sunshine were close to the road leading to the parking area.
The fairgrounds teemed with people there to enjoy the games, rides and exhibits. Through the van’s open windows came the scents of onions and peppers cooking on grills.
She stretched forward to hand Hank the passes Mr. Summerhays had given her before they left. Her boss hadn’t said where he obtained them, but she guessed they’d come from someone in the horse-training community.
“There’s one for you, too, Hank,” she said, “if you want to stay.”
“Thanks, but I’ve got a bunch of other folks waiting to be brought here.” He held one ticket over his shoulder.
She shook her head. “Keep it and let someone use it.”
“Thanks.” He leaned his elbow on the window and greeted the teenage boy selling tickets. “Two adults and four kids. I’m dropping them off.”
“Sure thing, Hank.” The boy waved as the van drove past him.
Even with their seat belts on, the Summerhays kinder twisted in their seats, trying to see everything from the midway to the animal barns as Hank drove toward the parking lot beyond the last row of buildings. The van bounced hard into chuckholes that were invisible in the long, matted grass.
They stopped by one end of the parked cars. Hank got out and slid the side door open while Sarah helped Mia with her seat belt. By the time the little girl was ready to step out, her siblings were waiting for her. Sarah jumped out and swung Mia to the ground.
No one spoke as Toby lowered himself from the van with the help of his cane. He winced when he put weight on his right ankle but steadied himself as he shifted his balance to his left side.
Alexander jumped forward to shut the door once Toby moved away. He slapped the side of the van and waved to Hank, who’d climbed back in.
Making sure the kinder were watching out for the many vehicles, Sarah herded them toward the first row of buildings. The pens inside held a variety of farm animals. Pigs were displayed right in front of them in the nearest building, while pens at the other end of the building held goats. Sounds of cows, chickens and sheep came from other open-sided buildings. Among them, the youngsters who’d entered the animals for judging were feeding and tending them.
“Those are the cleanest pigs I’ve ever seen,” Sarah said as the kinder paused to admire a huge pig in the outermost pen.
“The judges want to see every inch of them,” a boy replied as he scrubbed his entry with soapy water and a brush. “They’ve got to look their best.” He chuckled. “And smell their best.”
Once they were past the road filled with a steady stream of cars and trucks headed for the parking lot, Sarah let the kinder walk in front of them. She asked Toby how he was doing with the cane.
“The uneven ground is more of a challenge than I’d anticipated,” he replied.
“If you want to sit—”
“No, the doktor said it was important to exercise my ankle now that it’s healed enough to put stress on it.”
“Not too much stress. The muscles need time to heal.”
“Okay, Doktorfraa Kuhns.”
She smiled, because that was what he’d expect her to do. Wallowing in her grief that within a couple of weeks he’d be leaving would ruin the day the kinder had looked forward to.
What gut will it do, Lord? I’m at fault for not listening to Toby from the beginning when he was honest with me. I know You have a plan for each of us, and, though I wish it, Your plan doesn’t seem to have Toby and me being together. Please help me accept that.
It was for the best, she told herself. Until she knew whether she was going to remain in the settlement, she couldn’t make any other plans.
“What do you want to do first?” she asked in order to escape her thoughts.
All four answered at once.
Raising her hands, she waited for them to stop. “Okay, let’s try that again. Natalie, what do you want to do first?”
“It’s almost nine. Let’s go watch them judge the sheep.”
Alexander crowed, “You want to see Nick!”
As his sister turned the color of the strawberries on her shirt, Sarah said, “Now, enough teasing. You all like Nick and will hope he does well.”
“Nick?” asked Toby.
“He attends their private school that’s halfway between Salem and Cambridge. He’s in Natalie’s class. They live about five miles north of the stables, and their mamm has been taking the Summerhays kinder to school for as long as I’ve worked there.” She lowered her voice. “I’ve tried to arrange time for him and Alexander to play this summer, but either one or the other of them is busy every minute of every day.”
“That’s a shame. The kinder enjoy picking on each other, ain’t so?”
“It’s because they love each other so much. They wouldn’t tease each other as they do otherwise.”
“Or you.”
Warmth swept through her as they neared the judging area. “When I first began taking care of them, I didn’t see their pranks as anything except troublemaking. They were angry at being handed off again. Now, when they tease me, they have twinkles in their eyes.”
“There’s Nick,” shouted Ethan, his voice carrying over everyone else’s.
The boy leading a sheep with circular horns into the open area glanced toward them and grinned. Natalie hunched into herself, so Sarah put a bolstering arm around her shoulders.
“Don’t distract him, Ethan,” Toby said. “Nick needs to concentrate on showing off his entry to the judges.”
The little boy nodded but clung to the fence. He was fascinated by the parade of sheep with girls and boys. Most of the kids were preteen or younger.
“I love sheep,” Ethan announced to nobody in particular.
“Do you think your boss will agree when his younger son asks to raise sheep?” asked Toby.
“By the time we leave the fair, Ethan will have changed his mind a dozen times and set his heart on several other animals for pets.”
“Kids that age are fickle.”
“They are.”
“It’s a gut thing we outgrow that, ain’t so?” he asked in a husky whisper that teased her cheek beyond her bonnet.
Warmth squeezed her heart, though his words could be a warning of his intentions not to be diverted from the life he’d built for himself in Texas. The rough edge of his voice offered an invitation she longed to accept. It would lead to worse heartache, but why not let her heart delight in this moment?
She remained next to Toby throughout the judging. They cheered when Nick was awarded second place and received a bright red ribbon. The blue ribbon went to the girl standing beside him. When they shook hands, the crowd cheered louder.
“I think there’s fried dough waiting for us to sample it,” Toby said, grinning.
“Don’t get too far ahead,” Sarah called as the kids took off as if rocket-propelled.
“We’ll catch them at the fried-dough stand.”
“If something else doesn’t grab their attent
ion on the way.”
* * *
Toby wasn’t surprised Sarah’s joke of warning was proved true. By the time the kinder finished sampling fried dough, burgers and three flavors of ice cream, they were eager to visit the midway and the rides.
While Sarah went to the booth to buy tickets for them, he listened to the youngsters debate which ride they’d go on first.
Mia, Ethan and Natalie agreed it should be the merry-go-round. Toby guessed the thrilling rides seemed too scary for the younger kinder, and Natalie was fascinated by anything with horses, real or wooden.
“The carousel?” scoffed Alexander. “It’s for little kids. I want to go on the snap-the-whip. Why can’t we go on that first?”
“Want to ride the horsies first.” Mia propped her fists on her hips and glowered at her older brother.
“We’ll be trying a bunch of the rides,” said Sarah when she rejoined them. “Let’s start with the carousel, and then we’ll decide which ride will be next.”
Alexander glowered for a second but was grinning again by the time they reached the merry-go-round. As Sarah handed tickets to the man running it, she looked at Toby, “Do you think you can handle these horses, cowboy?”
“I’m not—” He laughed. “I guess I prefer to be called a cowboy instead of ‘horse-boy’ as Alexander suggested.”
“Trust you to say something like that, Alexander.” She ruffled the boy’s hair, and he chuckled, his annoyance forgotten.
Toby lifted Mia onto a bright pink horse. When she giggled and grabbed the reins as if she could make the horse go right then, he turned to watch Ethan scramble onto a gold horse next to Mia’s. Natalie chose a white horse, while Alexander climbed on an alligator. It was the only non-horse on the merry-go-round, but Toby wasn’t surprised the boy had found it. Alexander was resolved to go his own way in life, no matter how strange it might be.