* * *
Josiah tried not to stare after her as she walked down the driveway to her wagon. He couldn’t believe he’d been so focused on surprising Ada, picturing her thrilled face when he told her the news, he’d completely forgotten about getting permission from the bishop and the school board.
“About time, Yoder.” Marcus slapped him on the back. “Thought you were gonna spend all day talking to that girl.” His lips curved into a sly smile. “Not that I blame you. She’s…Wow is all I can say.”
“That yer girl, Josiah?” Clint asked as he grabbed the other end of a thick wooden support beam Marcus had started unloading.
“Just because she’s Amish doesn’t make her my girl,” Josiah growled, checking the plans to direct the placement.
Clint laughed. “Wasn’t just that she’s Amish, man. She eyed you up pretty good. And I’d say you were doing the same.”
His face burning, Josiah hurried over to help Rodrigo with the unloading. He wished he hadn’t been so gruff with Clint, but his coworker had exposed his secret desire.
* * *
The minute Ada got back to the wagon, Mary Elizabeth bombarded her with questions. Ada tried to answer patiently, but her sister’s chatter distracted her from replaying her conversation with Josiah and from picturing his face, his…
She jerked her mind back to the road and to Mary Elizabeth’s incessant questions. They’d almost driven past the bishop’s house when Ada remembered she was supposed to stop. She jerked on the reins and pulled the horse to a halt on the side of the road.
Mary Elizabeth stopped mid-question and switched to a new one. “Why are we stopping?”
“I promised Josiah I’d tell the bishop about the playground.” Ada turned into the Troyers’ driveway.
“Oh, can I play with Martha?” Without waiting for an answer, Mary Elizabeth hopped out of the wagon before Ada had stopped completely and headed for the door.
Ada was still tying up the horse when her sister knocked. The bishop’s bushy eyebrows rose as Mary Elizabeth danced from foot to foot and asked to play with his daughter. At his nod, she brushed past him and darted into the house.
He held open the door until Ada reached the porch. “Come in, come in.”
Ada hoped he’d maintain his cheery demeanor once she’d explained about the playground. Her sister had disappeared, so she must have gone in search of Martha.
He motioned her to the couch in the living room. “Have a seat. You’re here to see Betty, I presume.”
With a twinge of guilt, she stopped him. “Actually, no, I’m here to see you.”
The bishop still stood, his eyebrows arced in a question.
“It’s about Josiah.” When the bishop’s eyebrows shot up even more, she hastened to explain. “I just came from the schoolhouse. I was taking over some supplies, and I met Josiah there. I mean, he was already there.”
At the bishop’s skeptical look, she hastened to explain why Josiah had been at the schoolhouse on a Saturday. “His company plans to fund a playground for the school. I saw the plans, and they’ll be wonderful for the scholars. Not just our present scholars, but future ones. Everything is wheelchair accessible, and the rubberized ground cover will provide a soft, spongy surface if anyone falls.”
Bishop Troyer only frowned, so Ada hurried on. “The therapy swings will cradle the children, and they’re especially beneficial for children with autism.” She hoped that might sway the bishop, whose expression darkened.
“The motion is calming and makes it easier for students to learn. The swings also stimulate children's senses and improve coordination and motor skills.” Ada’s explanation trailed off as the lines around the bishop’s mouth tightened.
“Josiah should have asked permission first. This is something the school board needed to discuss and approve.”
“He didn’t know until yesterday that they’d chosen his project.”
“He still should have talked it over with us before he submitted the plans.” The bishop’s tone brooked no argument, and his lips thinned even more.
Ada hated to see Josiah get into trouble for his generous gift. “Can’t you forgive him?”
“First I need to see what he needs to be forgiven for.” The bishop jumped up and jammed on his hat. “Excuse me. I need to discuss this with the school board. Then we’ll meet with Josiah.” His words sounded ominous.
Ada sat there staring after him, wishing she’d presented the situation better. She’d hoped for a better reception and had tried to justify the need for a playground, but the bishop seemed more concerned that Josiah hadn’t asked permission. Ada hated to think of Josiah getting in trouble for his thoughtfulness.
Slowly, she rose from the couch, wondering where to find Mary Elizabeth.
A stern voice spoke behind her. “Ada, I’d like to speak with you.” Betty headed toward a chair opposite Ada.
“Of course.” Ada sank back onto the couch.
“It has come to our attention”—Betty’s tone sounded ominous—“that you had a male visitor last night.”
“Josiah Yoder came for dinner because I was watching his son.” Ada hoped the gossip making the rounds wouldn’t damage Josiah’s reputation.
“It was a rather long dinner.” The disbelief in Betty’s voice indicated she believed more had happened than a simple meal. “The Scriptures do warn you to stay away from all appearances of evil.”
Ada gasped. It wasn’t anything like Betty seemed to be implying. Well, she did have thoughts about Josiah that she shouldn’t, but… “He’s learning sign language. We’re trying to find ways to help Nathan.”
“There’s no reason that can’t be done during afterschool hours.”
“Yes, of course.” Ada stumbled over her words. They should meet in public places. She’d been foolish to encourage Josiah to stay later at her house.
Betty stood. “I hope you’ll take my advice.”
“I certainly will.” Ada rose, called for Mary Elizabeth, and headed for the door. As much as it pained her, Ada would confine her meetings with Josiah to brief teaching sessions after school when others were around.
Chapter Twenty-Four
On Monday morning Josiah prepared for the usual outburst when he woke Nathan. As soon as his son opened his eyes, he shrieked and jerked away. Josiah took a few steps back.
If his son was scared of him, picking him up would only increase his fear. Josiah’s chest tightened as he remembered the way he normally swept Nathan into his arms. All that time he’d been terrifying his son. As hard as it was to wait, he’d give Nathan time and space, letting his son come to him when he was ready.
Josiah braced himself for Nathan’s daily question, Mamm where?
Instead his son signed, I miss Mamm, and tears rolled down his cheek.
The thickness in Josiah’s throat made it hard to swallow. He responded, I miss Mamm, but Nathan stared at him suspiciously. When he added his daily I love you, Nathan shook his head and shrank back. That denial hurt more than pounding fists and sharp kicks.
In some ways, Nathan’s outbursts were easier to bear than these silent tears, because Josiah had no way to reach out and comfort him. Although Nathan had clawed and hit and struggled to get away, at least they’d had some physical closeness, even if it was negative. But now, Josiah hesitated to touch his son. He longed for the relationship Nathan had with Ada. To do that, he needed to communicate and find a way to gain Nathan’s trust.
Josiah walled in his pain and determined to start a new routine, one he’d decided on after seeing Ada’s siblings take responsibility for cleaning up their messes. Rather than dressing Nathan, he pointed to the clothes he’d laid out, then pointed to his son. He followed up with the word school.
Nathan’s face brightened, but he backed up to the opposite side of the bed when Josiah pointed to the clothes once more. His son opened his mouth to scream, but rather than picking up Nathan to dress him, Josiah strode out the door and closed it behind him. He was te
mpted to peek in to see his son’s reaction but instead headed for the kitchen to start breakfast.
Ten minutes later, Nathan shuffled into the kitchen. Josiah avoided looking in his direction and busied himself with dishing out scrambled eggs and bacon. He risked a quick glance as he set one plate at each place. Nathan had twisted suspenders, his collar caught inside his shirt, his shirt buttoned crooked, and his shoes on the wrong feet. But he had dressed himself. Josiah’s heart did a victory dance, and he resisted the urge to fix them.
Nathan climbed into his chair, bowed his head for prayer, and ate everything on his plate. Josiah set a toothbrush and hairbrush on the end of the table and cleared the plates. When he turned his back, Nathan slipped off the chair, pick up both brushes, and left the room.
Josiah didn’t inspect Nathan’s grooming and kept a large distance between them as they headed to the barn. Usually the buggy rocked back and forth with Nathan’s screams. This time, Josiah slid open the buggy door before hooking up Silver. By the time he had finished, Nathan had folded down the front seat and climbed into the back. He lay on the seat, sucking on his rabbit’s ear.
After Josiah lifted the seat in place, he signed the three words Ada had taught him last week—school, David, and Ada. Nathan pretended to ignore him and closed his eyes when Josiah tried to sign again, but his lips curved up. For the first time in nine months, Josiah started the buggy with no shrieks, kicks, or tantrums.
* * *
Ada arrived at school early to find barricades enclosing the construction site. Heavy support beams had been driven into the ground and were held in place with cement. David bounced on the wagon seat and signed that he couldn’t wait to play on the playground with Nathan. Ada couldn’t wait either. She wanted to encourage the others to use the equipment once the playground was completed. Her heart overflowed with gratitude for Josiah’s thoughtfulness.
She unlocked the schoolhouse door and returned to the wagon for the refrigerator-carton hideaway she’d created. As she and David maneuvered the large cardboard structure from the back of the wagon, Josiah pulled into the school yard.
He hopped out and hurried over. “Let me help you with that.” Turning so David could read his lips, he said, “Can you hold open the schoolhouse door?”
David nodded and raced over. He flattened his back against the door so they could enter. After they set it on the floor, Josiah asked David to wake Nathan, and David flew out the door, leaving the two of them alone together.
Remembering Betty’s warning, Ada hurriedly adjusted the cardboard hideaway. “We—I should get outside to greet the parents.”
“This is such a clever idea.” Josiah opened the small door she’d cut in the cartons. “The children will love it.”
“I hope so.” Ada stood and smoothed down her skirt. They had to get outside before other parents arrived. She started for the door, and Josiah followed her.
He pushed open the door and stepped back for her to exit. Brushing past him made Ada’s breath catch in her throat.
“I tried something new with Nathan this morning,” he said.
She turned toward him and regretted it when her pulse jumped, but looking away would be rude. Even if she could manage to do so. The excitement on his face made that impossible.
“I let him take responsibility for dressing himself and getting into the buggy. We didn’t have any outbursts. Danke for the signs you taught me.”
“How wonderful!” Ada’s stomach somersaulted at the way his eyes crinkled when he grinned. The sensation almost made her forget she needed to put distance between them before anyone arrived. Gathering her wits, she managed to reply, “You’re welcome. And thank you for the playground.” Leave, Ada. But she couldn’t break eye contact.
They were still gazing into each other’s eyes when Betty drove up, and Ada’s heart sank. She rushed past Josiah and toward David, who was helping Nathan out of the buggy.
Across the parking area, Martha exited her mamm’s buggy and, with a bounce in her step, started toward the playground.
Josiah came up beside Ada. “I’m glad the school board decided to approve the playground, and that I can help build it. You’ve done so much for the scholars. And for me.”
If they’d been alone, Ada would have basked in the compliment, though it was hochmut. But worrying about Betty watching made her edgy. She had to find a way to get rid of Josiah politely when he seemed determined to continue the conversation.
Josiah pointed to where his son and David stood. “I’m afraid Nathan may need a little straightening. I tried not to touch him this morning after he got dressed. I hoped it would help with his fear.”
Ada couldn’t help smiling at Nathan’s twisted suspenders and crooked collar. “That was wise. I’ll be sure to get him untwisted.” She didn’t glance at Josiah; she couldn’t risk locking gazes again.
“It isn’t only his suspenders. His shoes are on the wrong feet, and his shirt is buttoned…”
Any other time she’d be delighted to talk about anything to spend time around him, but right now all she wanted to do was escape. She cut him off mid-sentence because the bishop’s wife was beckoning her. “I’d better see what Betty wants.” Ada had a pretty good idea, though.
Martha approached and gaped at the beams.
“I’ll see you after school,” Ada said to Josiah, and moved over to join Martha.
“It will be beautiful,” Martha breathed, reverence in her tone.
“Yes, it will,” Ada agreed. “When you’re done looking, could you take the boys into the schoolhouse?”
When Martha nodded, Ada crossed the parking lot, dreading the lecture she’d have to endure.
* * *
Josiah walked over to the wooden beams and shook them. They all stood firm. He inspected the work the crew had done on Sunday without him there to supervise. Everything appeared sturdy and ready for the next phase.
He used his inspection to sneak peeks at Ada as she stood beside Betty’s buggy. The sharpness of Betty’s tone carried across the parking lot, but Josiah couldn’t distinguish the words. From Ada’s slumped shoulders and bowed head, it seemed as if the bishop’s wife were scolding her. But for what? Josiah’s protective instinct urged him to cross the school yard to defend her, but the voice of reason held him back.
Ada nodded and backed away, but Betty shook a finger at her.
What in the world had Ada done to deserve Betty’s wrath?
While Betty was pulling out of the parking lot, Josiah hurried over. Ada looked on the verge of tears, but when he tried to talk to her, she waved him away.
Hurt, Josiah stood there staring after her as she hurried into the building. They’d had such fun together last week. Had he said or done something to upset her? Josiah replayed their conversation this morning. Her face glowing in the morning sunshine when she stepped outside the schoolhouse. The way she’d turned to look at him when he spoke. She’d gazed up at him with…With what? Gratitude, he decided. Yes, it must have been gratitude. Anything else had to be a trick of the sunlight.
* * *
Ada stood outside the schoolhouse door to greet the remaining scholars as they arrived. Some of the children had difficulty adjusting to changes in the environment, so she wanted to reassure them. She also needed to let parents know to keep their children and younger siblings away from the construction, and she described the future playground equipment to satisfy everyone’s curiosity.
Inside Martha was fielding questions and introducing the students to the cardboard hideaway. The refrigerator boxes proved invaluable for calming Will and Lukas several times that day, and Ada was grateful she’d made the hideaway. Despite its soothing effects, she was exhausted by the end of the day.
All weekend she’d been looking forward to working with Josiah, but knowing Betty would be supervising them dampened her excitement. She dreaded telling Josiah they’d have a chaperone.
When he came through the door to pick up Nathan, Betty was already waiting, le
aning against the far wall, arms crossed.
At Josiah’s broad smile, Ada’s tiredness disappeared, and fresh energy surged through her.
He crossed the room. “Would it be all right if Nathan and I stop by tonight for a half hour or so after dinner?”
Conscious of Betty’s eyes on them, Ada said stiffly, “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” At the look of hurt in his eyes, she tilted her head slightly in Betty’s direction.
Josiah gave a barely perceptible nod. “I see.”
“Betty suggested we meet after school.”
“So she can chaperone?” He turned his back to Betty, hiding his grin from the bishop’s wife.
“It seems so.”
“All right, teacher, where should I sit?”
Ada hadn’t thought about that. She tried not to giggle as Josiah lowered himself onto a student chair. Then she sobered. Not only was Betty glaring at them, but the small chair emphasized Josiah’s broad shoulders and long legs. She averted her eyes. “Maybe Martha’s chair would be better.”
“I don’t think that would be wise. Then we’d be sitting next to each other.”
“I, um, meant you could pull it to the other side of the desk.”
Josiah did, but having him sitting across from her reminded Ada of the picnic table, and her mouth went dry. She struggled to speak, and her demonstrations of the signs were stiff and awkward. After six signs, she gave up. “Maybe Nathan could come to my house after school tomorrow, and when you pick him up…”
“That sounds like a good plan.” Josiah jumped to his feet, seemingly as eager to get away from Betty’s scrutiny as Ada was. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said quietly.
Although she shouldn’t be defying the bishop’s wife, Ada was looking forward to teaching Josiah in a more relaxed atmosphere tomorrow. Or as relaxed as she could be, feeling the way she did about him.
* * *
Yesterday Josiah had been glad to end his sign language lesson, but today, despite a promise to himself to only stay a short while, he had trouble tearing himself away. Ada had taught him several signs and reviewed some others.
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