The Amish Teacher's Gift

by Rachel J. Good

  As she had that morning, Ada puzzled over Betty’s sharp tone.

  Shoulders slumped, Miriam approached Will and convinced him to leave his favorite windmill toy. Outside, in her family’s buggy, Martha was dodging Lukas’s kicks and flailing arms as she tried to calm him.

  Ada stood in the doorway, ready to intervene if Martha needed help.

  Betty came up behind her. “You’re free to go.”

  “I was just waiting to see if Martha needed any help.”

  “There’s no need.” Betty’s tone brooked no argument. “My daughter is perfectly able to care for Lukas.”

  “I wasn’t doubting her abilities. I only wanted—”

  “I’m tired of people underestimating her,” Betty burst out. “She’s capable.”

  Ada was taken aback by her vehemence. “I know she’s capable. She’s a marvel in the classroom. I couldn’t teach without her help.”

  Her words seemed to mollify Betty, who sighed. “I’m sorry for being so gretzy today. Having two special children makes it hard to cope sometimes.”

  Ada reached out and touched her arm. “I understand.” After being in the classroom for half a day, she could easily imagine the stress of dealing with outbursts all week long.

  “Thank you.” Betty motioned to Ada’s buggy. “You can go. I’m sure the day wasn’t easy. Martha and I will be fine.”

  “If you’re sure?” Ada hesitated to leave until Lukas was calm and inside the schoolhouse. But when Betty shooed her toward her buggy, Ada turned and signed to David, who was building a block tower with Nathan. Her brother made a face, but stood and started heading toward her.

  With a loud cry, Nathan grabbed David’s leg and tried to drag him back. David tumbled to the floor, cracking his elbow and scattering the blocks. He scrambled to a sitting position, cradling his elbow, and burst out crying.

  Nathan looked startled and a bit uncertain, but when David’s tears started, Nathan howled. Ada crossed the room, sank to the floor, and wrapped her arms around both boys. A commotion in the doorway drew her attention. Martha had been leading Lukas through the doorway, but all the chaos and noise set him off. Jerking away from Martha, he took off into the parking lot, and Martha ran after him.

  What more could possibly go wrong? A scuffling in the doorway provided an answer. Josiah had arrived.

  * * *

  Josiah stood at the threshold, uncertain what to do, how to help. His predictions of Nathan hurting someone must have come true. Outside the schoolhouse, Martha was chasing a screaming Lukas who was probably running because of Nathan’s cries. David was in tears, no doubt due to Nathan, and Ada was struggling to calm his bawling son. Josiah wanted to race over, grab Nathan, apologize to everyone, and escape.

  Instead, he did what he had done that morning, moved to a spot where he could observe without being seen. As long as he stayed out of his son’s line of sight, Ada might be able to calm him as she had before.

  She sat on the floor, her dress spread around her, an arm around each boy. She tilted her head and rested her cheek against Nathan’s hair, and Josiah’s heart somersaulted in his chest. The sweet gesture was one a mother would make while comforting her child. A loving gesture Nathan hadn’t experienced in almost a year. Nathan’s sobs quieted until he was gulping breaths through his open mouth. When his crying ceased completely, Nathan tipped back his head and met Ada’s eyes. A message passed between them. Then Nathan reached up his small hand and patted Ada’s cheek. Through misty eyes, Josiah imprinted the picture on his heart.

  Behind him, Martha had caught up with Lukas and wrapped her arms around him. The ruckus died down as Martha murmured softly to her brother.

  Inside, Nathan knelt beside Ada as she examined David’s elbow. She mouthed something to her brother that made him laugh. Nathan copied his example, then with a puzzled frown on his forehead, watched their mouths intently as they communicated. At each exchange, David’s smile widened until he burst into laughter. Nathan joined in. Josiah’s heart expanded even more. He’d dreamed of sharing moments like this with his son.

  Wanting so badly to be part of the group, to share their mirth, Josiah stepped through the door. Ada noticed him first and, at the invitation in her eyes to join them, his pulse quickened. He crossed the floor toward them.

  Nathan, who had scrambled to his feet when David did, had one hand resting on Ada’s shoulder and his head thrown back in deep-throated giggles. Her arm encircled him, holding him close. David stood facing both of them, signing quickly.

  Ada’s face glowed, her lips curved in a delicious smile. “You’re off work early.”

  Before Josiah could explain, Nathan looked over and saw him approaching. His son’s mouth snapped shut, cutting off the chuckle, and he froze in place. His eyes wide, he ducked behind Ada. In one brief moment, his joy erupted into a fury of fireworks.

  Shame heating his cheeks, Josiah strode over to pick up his son. Nathan reached out for Ada, as if begging her to save him. Josiah debated letting her try, but embarrassment and Betty’s disapproving glare made him hasten out of the schoolhouse, carrying his squalling son.

  * * *

  Ada struggled to regain her composure as Josiah headed toward the door. She’d just managed to calm Nathan when his father’s appearance set him off again. And Josiah’s appearance hadn’t only disturbed his son, it had created an equally intense reaction inside Ada. Guiltily, she glanced at Betty to see if the bishop’s wife had noticed.

  But Betty, her arms crossed, was glowering at Josiah. She harrumphed as he strode across the school yard. “That child needs more discipline.”

  Ada disagreed. She’d noticed Nathan’s reluctance to be around his daed before. Nathan had gone out of his way to avoid Josiah at her house yesterday. He’d cringed when his father came closer. He threw tantrums when he was around his daed, but calmed when she approached. Something wasn’t right. Yesterday Sadie had vented her irritation through sarcasm and defiance. But what if you had no way to express your feelings? Would the frustration build up until you exploded?

  Chapter Sixteen

  The whole way home, Ada mulled over Nathan’s situation. If he had words to express his feelings, it might decrease his tantrums. The more his vocabulary grew, the better he could communicate. She’d work on some feeling words with him to see if that helped.

  The only thing that baffled her was that Nathan never seemed to exhibit those outbursts around her, only his daed. Several times yesterday, that had been obvious. Maybe she needed to observe their interactions more closely to see what was causing Nathan to act out.

  For now, though, she’d enjoy the rest of the day off. Beside her, David wriggled on the seat. He’d been trying to point out things they were passing, but she’d been too preoccupied to notice. She focused on her brother and let her worries drift away.

  The minute they pulled in the driveway, Mary Elizabeth shot out of the house and across the lawn and hurtled herself into Ada’s arms. Sadie, who had followed her out the door, walked at a more dignified pace.

  “How was she?” Ada asked.

  Sadie shrugged, but Mary Elizabeth bubbled over. “Rebecca said I did much better today.”

  Sadie flicked her eyes heavenward. “I guess you could call it better. She only cried three times.”

  “That’s good, isn’t it, Ada? Because I really, really missed you.”

  Ada had no idea how long the crying lasted or how much class time she’d interrupted. She’d need Rebecca’s input on that. “It sounds as if you did better than yesterday.”

  “Ask her how many times she growled today.” Sadie blew out an exasperated breath.

  “Josiah told me to act like Daniel.”

  “Daniel,” Sadie said in her superior-older-sister manner, “did not growl. The lions did.”

  Ada held up a hand. “That’s enough. I’m glad Mary Elizabeth cried less today. Perhaps she could work on growling less. For now, I hope you’ll be patient, Sadie.” Ada pinned her sister with a
look.

  Sadie lowered her eyes and mumbled an I’m sorry.

  Mary Elizabeth beamed. “I forgive you, Sadie.”

  “So who would like to go with me to the health food store today? Leah asked me to stop by.” Ada tapped David on the knee and mouthed the invitation. He brightened, and Mary Elizabeth danced around.

  “I’ll go call the others,” Sadie offered, and Ada gave her a grateful smile.

  All of her siblings liked accompanying her to Leah’s family’s store, because the neighboring farm had goats and a large playground for the kids.

  When they arrived at Stoltzfus Natural Products Store, Ada pulled the buggy close to the fence by the goat farm, and everyone raced over to see the goats. Everyone but Sadie. Ada sighed internally. Her sister must be getting too old for goat-watching.

  “Do you want to come with me?” Ada asked, but Sadie shook her head. “Will you keep an eye on the others then?”

  Sadie dragged her feet on the way over to her siblings, who were standing by the fence calling to the goats.

  When Ada walked into the store, the bells attached to the door jingled. Leah glanced up and smiled, but she held up a hand, signaling for Ada to wait as she tapped each small jar on the counter with a fingertip. Then she recorded the number in the open ledger beside her. When she was done, she looked up with her usual beaming face. “Sorry. I’m doing inventory, and if I lose count, I have to start all over.” She closed the ledger with a snap. “This can wait. How are you? How is the teaching going?”

  Leah’s bubbly voice always made Ada’s spirits rise. She tried to match her friend’s cheery greeting, but the school day had drained her energy. “I’m fine.”

  “That bad?” Leah’s sympathetic look made Ada feel guilty.

  The day hadn’t been that bad. The meltdowns had been minimal, and the children had learned a few things. Ada still wanted to do more to reach Will, Lukas, and Emily, but everyone had learned a little sign language, and they seemed to enjoy the math counters and patterns.

  Leah waved a hand in front of Ada’s face. “Are you all right? Tell me about it.”

  Ada had barely started when the bells jangled. She waited while Leah waved to the customer who’d entered behind her.

  “Hi, Josiah,” Leah gushed.

  At the sound of his name, Ada turned, and her breath caught in her throat.

  Josiah stood near the door, gazing out the glass. “Hello, Leah. And Ada,” he said without turning toward them. “Mamm asked me to pick up her usual order. She also suggested I ask about any remedies for calming children.”

  Reaching onto the shelf behind her, Leah pulled down a bag. “Here are your Mamm’s herbs and teas. If you follow me, I’ll show you our Added Attention Vitamins. They’re right down this aisle.”

  “I hate to bother you, but could you bring it here?” Josiah flashed her a pleading smile and returned his attention to the parking lot. “Nathan’s sleeping in the buggy. After his escape yesterday, I don’t want to take my eyes off him.”

  “His escape?”

  “I’m sure Ada will tell you the whole story. She was the one who found him.” Josiah turned the full force of his smile in Ada’s direction.

  Ada worried she was grinning like a fool.

  “Sounds like you two have been having some interesting adventures together.” Leah raised her eyebrows at Ada.

  It’s not what you think, she wanted to tell her friend, but with Josiah standing there, she remained silent.

  The bell on the door tinkled, and an elderly woman hobbled in. Josiah turned his heart-stopping smile in her direction and leaned forward to hold open the door, deflating Ada’s excitement. She’d misread the warmth of his smile, a smile he seemed to bestow on everyone equally.

  After Leah had waited on the customer, she disappeared down an aisle and returned with a white plastic bottle that she carried over to Josiah. “Some parents claim this works well.”

  He read the label between glances out the window. “That sounds good.” He looked up at Leah with the same smile that had set Ada’s pulse racing, and Ada’s heart constricted at the sunny smile Leah returned. “How much do I owe you?”

  “Let me go figure it out.” Leah held out her hand. “Would you like me to put that in the bag?”

  Josiah passed the bottle to her without glancing up. “Thanks.”

  Was it Ada’s imagination, or did her friend look flustered? And had their fingers touched when Leah took the bottle?

  As Leah sidled past Ada to get to the register, she gestured toward the board near the entryway where notices were pinned. “I thought you might be interested in that pink one, Ada. A lady from the Englisch school put it up a few days ago.”

  Ada walked over to the board, trying to calm her fluttering pulse as she stood only a few inches away from Josiah.

  “Am I in your way?” He edged over to give her more room.

  Not at all, she wanted to say. She mentally scolded herself for being disappointed. She had trouble paying attention to the corkboard instead of the tanned forearm so close she could reach out and stroke. Ada Rupp! What is wrong with you?

  She turned her body until his arm, sprinkled with dark hairs, was no longer in view and searched for the paper Leah had mentioned. Amid notices about auctions, fundraisers, and specials on carpentry and woodwork, the bright pink flyer stood out. The heading, “New Strategies for Special Needs Children,” caught her eye. Several specialists were speaking at a local school that evening. Ada sighed. She’d love to hear them.

  Leah looked up from the register. “What was that sigh for?”

  “The program sounds wonderful. It’s about special needs children, so it would really help my teaching.”

  “I know. That’s why I suggested it.” The cash register dinged as Leah punched in numbers.

  “I can’t ask Sadie to babysit. Not at night.” Putting everyone to bed was too much to expect from her sister even when things were going well, but with Sadie’s recent attitude, it would be impossible. “I wish Daed…”

  “I know.” Leah glanced over with sympathy in her eyes before placing Josiah’s bottle in the bag with his mamm’s order. “What day is it? Maybe I could babysit.”

  “I couldn’t ask you to do that.” Ada tried to keep the disappointment from her voice. “Besides, the program’s tonight.”

  “Ach, I’m sorry. I should have mentioned it sooner.” Leah scurried over to Josiah with the bag and told him the price. “I’ll be right back with your change,” she said as she headed for the cash register with his money. She counted out some bills and coins before closing the drawer with a snap. “I wish I didn’t have to work tonight, Ada.”

  “What time is the program?” Josiah asked, startling Ada so much she jumped.

  “Seven to nine,” she read from the flyer.

  “I’d be happy to watch your siblings so you can go,” he said.

  Ada stared at him, speechless. What a generous offer. Finding willing babysitters for seven children was almost impossible. “Thank you,” she finally stuttered out. “But I can’t accept—”

  “I promise I won’t kidnap them this time.” He glanced at her with a twinkle in his eye.

  “I—I didn’t think you would.” Ada had never been so near him for this long before, and she couldn’t seem to draw in a breath. That must be why she was so dizzy and lightheaded.

  “I’ll be there at six thirty, if that will give you enough time.”

  “It would be plenty of time, but I can’t accept your offer.” Ada managed to get out a whole sentence despite her shortness of breath.

  Josiah looked hurt. “You don’t trust me?”

  “No, yes. I mean, I do trust you, but…” When he looked at her like that, Ada couldn’t think, couldn’t remember what she planned to say.

  Leah stood transfixed looking from one to the other, her eyes wide and curious.

  Josiah strode to the door and pushed it open. “If it’s not a trust issue, I’ll see you at six th
irty.”

  “No, no, wait,” Ada called after him. “It’s too much to ask of you.”

  He pivoted, a smile crinkling the corner of his eyes. “I don’t think so. Not after I woke you at three a.m.”

  Behind Ada, Leah sucked in a breath. The minute the door slammed behind Josiah, Leah clutched Ada’s arm. “What is going on between you two?”

  “Nothing,” Ada answered, but the truth sent a pang through her.

  “Ada Rupp, I don’t believe you.” Leah pitched her voice low and imitated Josiah’s words, “Not after I woke you at three a.m.” Putting her hands on her hips, she said, “What exactly does that mean?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  Leah placed herself between Ada and the door. “I’m not letting you leave until you tell me every word of it.” When Ada protested, Leah only crossed her arms and refused to budge.

  So, between Leah’s gasps and exclamations, Ada recounted yesterday’s events.

  When she finished, Leah shook her head. “You know he’s—”

  “Yes, I know.” Why did everyone think it was their duty to warn her Josiah was married? Perhaps because your attraction to him is so obvious.

  Leah exhaled loudly. “I don’t see you for a few days, and all this happens. My news pales in comparison to that.”

  “Ada, Ada.” The twins burst into the shop, both talking at once. “Mary Elizabeth fell on her head.”

  “Where is she?” Ada raced out the door, following the twins to the goat pen, and almost ran into Josiah. She held out a hand to avert a collision, and her hand accidentally bumped into his chest. Although she yearned to stroke the hard muscles her fingertips had encountered, she jerked her hand away, unsure if she was out of breath from running or from touching him. If she didn’t get some air soon, she might faint. She gasped in a breath, hoping Josiah would think it was from racing across the parking lot.

  He held a muddy Mary Elizabeth by the hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to her in time to stop her tumble. I saw it but was too late.”

  “Oh, Mary Elizabeth.” Yesterday flour, today mud.