The Teacher's Bride

by Kathleen Fuller

  He shook his head.

  She tilted her head and looked at him. “Interesting.”

  “What?”

  “I mentioned her name and you’re not blushing or looking away or stammering. Which means you’ve given up on her.”

  He supposed he had. And without much fanfare. Not only that, but he didn’t have any second doubts about it either.

  “So it’s not about Martha. And today is Saturday . . .” A smile crept across her face. “You met with Ruby today.”

  He didn’t recall telling her about his meeting with Ruby. “How did you know that?”

  “I’m not oblivious like you are. And never mind about me. What about you and Ruby?”

  This was the most animated and interested he’d seen her in weeks. But this wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have. He tugged on his shirt collar and didn’t say anything.

  “Are you two going out?”

  He wasn’t sure how to answer that. He swallowed and looked away. “I don’t believe that’s any of your business.”

  “It isn’t. But I already have mei answer.” She uncrossed her arms. “I’m going to the store today. What do you want for supper this week?”

  That got his attention. “You’re shopping? And cooking?”

  “Ya. I’m sorry I’ve been so hard to live with lately.”

  “It’s all right.”

  “Nee, it isn’t.” A shadow passed over her face, but then she smiled. “I’m going to do better.”

  “You sound like Ruby.” He hadn’t meant to say those words out loud.

  “So there is something going on between the two of you.” She looked at him thoughtfully. “I never thought of you two together.”

  “Because you don’t like her.”

  She looked sheepish. “That hasn’t been fair of me either.” A brown oak leaf fluttered to the ground behind her. “Have you already asked her on a date?”

  He realized Selah wouldn’t stop questioning him until she got the answers she wanted. Truthfully, he was glad to see her like this instead of surly and secretive. Against his better judgment he said, “Not exactly.”

  “What do you mean, not exactly?” She smirked. “You either asked her out or you didn’t.”

  “I, uh, asked her something.”

  “You’re acting seltsam again. You must really like her.”

  He took off his hat and thrust his hand through his hair. He needed a haircut. Maybe Ruby could give him one. His hand froze halfway through his hair. He did like Ruby. Which was why getting married made sense. Yes, he understood love was a factor. But not the most important one, in his mind. Love came with companionship and meeting challenges head-on. And he wanted to do that with someone he at least liked. He started to place his hat back on his head.

  “You don’t have to be a scaredy-cat, Christian. It’s just a date. It’s not like you’ve asked her to marry you.”

  His hat slipped from his hands and landed on the ground.

  She froze. “Christian . . . you didn’t ask her to marry you, did you?” All trace of teasing humor disappeared from her tone. “Oh nee. What were you thinking? That’s a terrible idea!”

  Panic suddenly gripped him. Seeing the look of utter shock on Selah’s face had snapped him back to reality. He couldn’t marry Ruby Glick. What had he done? He snatched his hat from the ground and stalked away.

  Selah hurried up behind him. “You can’t drop a bombshell like that and then run off, Christian.”

  Fighting to catch his wits, he turned and cleared his throat, even though it felt like a noose was tightening around his neck. “I didn’t drop anything. You assumed.”

  “Correctly.” She frowned. “Okay, now you look like you’re going to faint.” She touched his arm. “Do you need to geh inside?”

  He shook his head. This was turning into a nightmare. An embarrassing nightmare. He had to fix this. He had to tell Ruby he’d changed his mind. That he’d lost his sanity for a short time, and that marriage was undoubtedly out of the question. He’d go back to his original plan. He’d get to know Martha, and then, if the time was right and the feelings were right, he would ask her to marry him—

  “Christian!”

  He opened his eyes, unaware he’d closed them. “What?”

  Selah’s eyes were wild with worry. “I haven’t seen you like this since we were kinner”. She squeezed his arm. “Whatever it is, it will be okay.”

  He looked at her hand and felt a calming comfort, barely registering that this was the same Selah who couldn’t be bothered to talk to him for the past couple of weeks. She was right. It would be okay, because he was going to resolve this preposterous problem he’d created. He took in a deep breath. “Danki, Selah. I feel better now.”

  She nodded, dropping her arm. “Now, tell me everything.”

  He blew out a breath. “I asked Ruby to marry me.”

  “What did you do that for?”

  “Because it seemed like a gut idea at the time.”

  “At the time? Christian, you never do anything spur-of-the-moment.”

  “I know.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Upon further reflection, I’m not sure why I did this time.”

  “What did she say?”

  “What?”

  “When you asked her to marry you?”

  “She said she’d think about it.”

  Selah looked surprised. “She’s seriously considering it?”

  “Prayerfully, to be accurate.”

  His sister tapped her fingertip against her chin. “I suppose weirder things have happened—although I can’t think of anything right now. But here’s the important thing, Christian. Do you love her?”

  “We both know love isn’t required for a gut marriage.”

  Selah rolled her eyes. “If you’re referring to Mamm and Daed, they aren’t exactly a shining example.”

  “They’re an excellent example of a partnership.”

  “Marriage is more than a partnership.” She looked away. “At least it should be.” She faced him. “If you really believe you and Ruby should be married, then you should be willing to court her. Slow things down. Take her a gift and tell her that you blew it and you want to start over.”

  He nodded. She was making sense. And he deserved a little dent in his pride for making such a foolish suggestion. He remembered their earlier conversation, before his sanity had escaped and he’d proposed. “I’ll take her a pie.”

  “I was thinking more like a small candle or—”

  “Raspberry pie. She’d like that. There’s still time to get one from Carolyn Yoder’s bakery and take it over to her.” He turned to Selah. “Thank you. You’ve helped me immensely.”

  She smiled, the first genuine smile he’d seen from her in a long time. “Glad I could be of use—”

  But he was already heading to the barn to hitch Einstein to the buggy, brimming with optimism. A pie, a proposal retraction, and the suggestion that they take things slow and court, if that was even something they should do. That would set everything to rights, and he and Ruby would get back to their normal, comfortable, relationship . . . friendship . . . whatever it was they had.

  CHAPTER 14

  Ruby didn’t know how long she sat under the tree before she went home, her mind still on Christian and his marriage proposal. She had prayed about it, but she knew it would take more than a few whispered prayers on a fall breeze to understand what God wanted her to do. At least she didn’t have to make her decision today.

  Once home, she found a note from Timothy and Patience. They had taken the kids to Sadie and Aden’s for the afternoon and would be back by suppertime. Ruby was a little disappointed. She’d hoped to spend some time with her nephews to keep her mind off Christian. Now she was alone in the house. At least she could start making supper. Chicken stew sounded good.

  She gathered the ingredients and had just put the chicken in the oven to bake when she heard a knock on the front door. She washed and dried her hands and went to answ
er it. When she opened the door, her mouth dropped open.

  “Hi, Ruby.” Seth Yoder stood in front of her.

  She took a step back, her heel catching the edge of the throw rug. Fortunately, she regained her balance before falling. “What are you doing here?”

  “I never apologized for hitting you with that door.” He shifted his feet. “And Mamm sent this.” He handed her a small basket.

  She accepted it and peeked inside. Chocolate chip cookies. “Mei nephews will love these.”

  “Be glad it’s not donuts,” he muttered. He looked at her. “Yer nose seems better.”

  She touched it. “It is. Doesn’t even hurt anymore. Would you like to come in?”

  “Uh, sure.” She opened the door wider and he walked through.

  “Something smells gut.”

  “I just put some chicken on to bake. We’re having chicken stew for supper tonight. I’ll put these cookies in the kitchen.” She gestured for him to follow her.

  In the kitchen she set the basket on the table and turned to him. “Tell yer mother I appreciate the cookies.”

  He tilted his head and looked at her. “You seem different today.”

  “I do?”

  He nodded. “I can’t quite put mei finger on it.”

  She shrugged. “I’m the same Ruby. Klutzy, nervous—”

  “That’s it.” He snapped his fingers. “You’re neither of those right now.”

  She frowned. He was right. She hadn’t hiccupped, she’d managed not to fall, she was holding a decent conversation with the object of her affections . . . and she felt nothing. Not a butterfly or a damp palm or anything. “That’s weird.”

  His gaze softened. “I wouldn’t call it weird.”

  “Oh? What would you call it?”

  Seth smiled. “Nice. I’d say it’s nice.”

  Another knock sounded on the door. “Now, who could that be? I’ll be right back, Seth.”

  She went to answer the door. When she did, her mouth dropped open for a second time. “Christian?”

  He stood there, a square-shaped box in his hand and a strange expression on his face as if the neck of his shirt was too tight. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Then he thrust the box toward her. “Here.”

  She looked at it. “What is it?”

  “Pie.”

  “You brought me pie?”

  He nodded and opened the box. “Raspberry. Fresh made today.”

  How thoughtful. And unexpected. “Danki.”

  “It’s a gift.”

  “Do you want to come in?”

  “Yes. Yes, I do.”

  She moved so he could come inside, and then she shut the door behind her. “You didn’t have to bring me a gift.”

  Christian swallowed. “We need to converse about what happened today.”

  “You said you’d give me time.”

  “I know I did. But I think we need to discuss some things more in depth.”

  “Like what?”

  “Is everything all right?” Seth had walked into the living room. His eyes suddenly turned cool. “Hello, Chris.”

  “Seth.”

  Gone was the bumbling of a moment before. Christian’s expression was inscrutable. “I didn’t realize you had company, Ruby.”

  She glanced at both men, who seemed to be appraising each other. Why, she had no idea.

  “I didn’t realize she was expecting you,” said Seth.

  “I wasn’t,” she said.

  “I don’t see that it’s any business of yours that I’ve dropped by unannounced.” Christian’s grip tightened on the pie box.

  “He really does always talk like that, ya?” Seth asked Ruby.

  With a sigh she nodded. “Usually.”

  Christian suddenly stiffened, which surprised her since he was already inflexible. “I see I’ve made an error,” he said, his voice low. “About several things.”

  Now he was confusing her. “Christian, give me the pie and we can talk.” She started to take it from him, but he held on to it.

  “I should probably be on mei way too,” Seth said, scooting past them both and out the door.

  But Ruby barely heard him. Why wouldn’t Christian let go of the pie? “Christian, why are you acting like this?” She tugged at the box.

  “I’m being perfectly normal under the circumstances.” He held on.

  “You are being anything but normal.” She tugged again. “Now give me the—”

  He let go of the box and the pie went flying—right into her face.

  Christian hadn’t thought the day would go from bad to worse, but it had in an instant. His gaped as he looked at the raspberry pie covering Ruby’s face. Pieces of crust were attached to her white kapp, while the bright-red filling dripped down her face and onto her neck.

  “Oh nee,” he said, going to her. He started to wipe off her face with his fingers, but that made a bigger mess.

  “Just . . . stop.” She pushed him away. “Christian . . .” She let out a cross between a growl and a squeal and marched to the kitchen.

  He followed her. “I’m sorry.”

  She went to the sink and turned on the water, which she started splashing on her face. “What is wrong with you?” she said as she tried to get the destroyed confection off her cheeks.

  “I . . . I have nee idea.”

  Ruby turned and looked at him, squinting between chunks of red raspberries. Then she sighed. “Let me get cleaned up upstairs.”

  “I’ll leave now—”

  “Oh nee you won’t.” She lifted her chin and managed to look defiant even while coated in pie filling. “You owe me an explanation, Christian Ropp.”

  Without another word he sat down at the kitchen table.

  It wasn’t long before she came back downstairs, her face freshly scrubbed, her dress changed, and her kapp replaced. She looked rather pretty. Very pretty. He drummed his fingers on the table.

  She sat down across from him. “Now, what did you want to talk about?”

  He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Why was he acting like this with Ruby? She wasn’t Martha. Until now he’d never had any trouble talking to her.

  “Christian?”

  He liked the way she said his given name. And she’d done it without him asking her to.

  She leaned forward and tilted her head, looking at him. “Hello? Anyone in that big brain of yers?” She smiled . . . but soon her smile faded as her eyes locked with his.

  A warm current ran through him. He knew it was merely his emotions firing the synapses in his brain, which accelerated his heart rate. Attraction. A simple chemical reaction that wasn’t so simple. With her sitting so close to him, he had the tempting urge to touch her face . . . and he gave in to the temptation.

  Her skin was soft. Warm, which probably explained the light shade of pink on her cheeks. He ran his finger lightly over the top of her cheek and heard her breath catch. That made his brain shut down completely. Logic, rational thought, and an appreciation for consequences flew right out of his head as he leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the mouth.

  When he pulled away, her eyes were wide open. “What did you do that for?”

  Her question, coupled with the shock on her face, and the very real possibility that she did not appreciate him kissing her, brought him to his senses. His chest tightened, and not in a good way. He jumped up from the chair and turned his back to her. “I . . . I . . .” It was official. He’d lost his mind, and as of five seconds ago, his dignity. “I apologize,” he said, still unable to look at her. Then he felt her tap his shoulder.

  “It’s okay, Christian.”

  He slowly turned, her kindness sparking those foreign emotions again, the ones he had no idea what to do with. “I have made an error—more than one since our lesson today.” He fought to sound emotionless, and he hoped he was successful, because inside he felt the exact opposite. “I said I would give you time. Instead I push a pie in your face and then . . . and then�
��”

  “Then you kissed me.” She smiled. “And here I thought I was the awkward one when it came to romance.”

  That didn’t improve his ego one bit. “Just forget I said—and did—anything.” He started to move past her when she put her hand on his arm.

  “How can I forget a kiss?”

  “A mistake,” he said.

  That wiped the smile off her face. “A mistake.”

  He nodded. “Yes. One of several I made today.”

  “Like the pie.”

  “Ya.”

  Her face pinched. “And the proposal.”

  He gulped. “Yes. It was a foolish idea made on the spur of the moment. Which is why it’s important to think things through.” He squared his shoulders, feeling on more level ground, until he saw the hurt in her eyes. He was still making a mess of things, but he couldn’t turn back. “Now that we’ve settled everything, I’ll return home.” This time when he began to leave, she didn’t stop him . . . until he got to the front door.

  “What if I’d said yes?”

  Christian turned. She’d followed him from the kitchen. “Yes to what?”

  “What if I’d said I’d marry you?”

  As usual, Ruby couldn’t leave well enough alone. Christian had given her an out—not to mention a sweet kiss. And that kiss was why she couldn’t just let him walk away as if nothing had happened between them. She had seen something in his eyes— something different from his typical impassivity. Even more important, she had felt something in her heart. Which was why she couldn’t stop herself from blurting the question.

  His left eyebrow arched. “A moot point, isn’t it, since I’ve retracted my proposal?”

  His words were blunt, but for some reason they weren’t as sharp as she expected. “But if you hadn’t, and I had said I would marry you, what would you do?”

  “I . . . I suppose we would get married.”

  “Just like that?”

  He nodded, and she saw his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “But that’s not going to happen.”

  “Because you changed yer mind.”

  “Right. I changed my mind.”

  “Then why did you kiss me?”

  He blew out a breath and averted his gaze, but he didn’t say anything.