The Nanny's Amish Family

by Patricia Johns

  “For how long?” Patience asked pointedly.

  “What?” He ran a hand over the horses’ muscular necks, then looked back at her.

  “How long will you keep her hidden away at the house with Mary?” Patience asked.

  “A woman’s place—” he began.

  “A girl needs friends,” she countered, interrupting. It wasn’t right for a woman to cut a man off when he was speaking, but her heart was beating fast. “A girl needs to know people—see people. Yes, her place is in her home, and one day she’ll marry and make a home of her own, but if she’s treated like a dirty secret—”

  “She is not a dirty secret!” Thomas snapped back. “She’s a vulnerable little girl and her daet has done wrong. I’m trying to protect her.”

  She knew he was only trying to protect his daughter, and he was right that some proper Amish clothes would make her more presentable...

  “Thomas, I’m not saying we shouldn’t go home right now. I’m only pointing out that there will be explaining anyway,” Patience said. “She will be a surprise, regardless, and as uncomfortable as it is, you will have to tell the story again and again. As soon as she speaks, or can’t answer a German question, it’ll be clear she’s Englisher. There’s no hiding that.”

  “Yah.” Thomas sighed. “But once she looks proper with a kapp and a dress, will they pull their children away still?”

  Patience couldn’t answer that. They may very well.

  “Daddy?” Rue said, and instead of answering, Thomas picked her up and deposited her on the buggy seat.

  “Wait there,” he said with a forced smile, and then he turned to Patience again. “I’ve been the subject of gossip before. My mother left the community when my father died. She couldn’t do it alone—walk the narrow path. She said she had friends and family with the Englishers, and she missed them. I had no idea my parents had been converts, but there you have it. She didn’t want to marry another Amish widower to provide for us. She said it was...” He swallowed. “She said it was too hard. But she’d raised us Amish, all the same, and she taught us to choose the hard choice, to take the narrow path. She just wasn’t willing to do it without Daet.”

  Patience stared at him, shocked.

  “Where did she go?” Patience whispered.

  “To a nearby city. My mamm had gone to an Englisher college. She has a sister there in the city, and they hadn’t seen each other since she and Daet converted—” His voice caught. “My parents had had this whole life we never knew about. I should have guessed with our last name. It’s German, but not typically Amish, but I never thought to question it. So my mother went Mennonite on us... Or went back to being Mennonite might be more accurate. Sure she would come visit and she tried to keep up with our lives, but everyone knew she’d left the Amish life. And I had to endure the gossip and the sidelong looks for years afterward. I know what that feels like.”

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured. So he had his own painful history, too...one that linked him to the Englisher world more than she’d ever suspected.

  “We need to help Rue fit in as quickly as possible,” Thomas said, his voice low. “She needs Amish clothes. She needs to learn a few German words.”

  “Yah,” she agreed. “I’ll do my best.”

  “That’s all I can ask.”

  “Do you see your mother still?” Patience asked.

  “Sometimes,” Thomas replied. “She still comes to visit from time to time. She’s my mamm. I suppose I’m still hoping she’ll come back for good.”

  An Englisher mother, and an Englisher child. Thomas was indeed a very dangerous man, and she understood why a community would be cautious. Patience didn’t say anything, but she felt the wariness in her own expression.

  “I’m Amish!” he said fervently, reading her face. “I was born Amish, I was raised Amish and, given the choice, I was baptized into the church. Rue can be Amish, too. She’s young enough to be formed—I was formed into an Amish man, wasn’t I? She can learn our ways. We can teach her our language. And given a few years, the community will do for her what they did for me—”

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  “They’ll pretend that she’s no different.” Thomas held out his hand. “We’d best go now.”

  Patience put her hand in his warm, strong grip and hoisted herself up into the buggy. Rue was staring at her with wide, worried eyes. Understanding the language or not, the child understood the tension. Patience let out a slow breath. She couldn’t let Rue shoulder these adult worries.

  “Do you like pie?” Patience asked quietly, shooting Rue a conspiratorial smile.

  “Yes,” Rue said.

  Patience settled herself on the opposite side of the girl so that Rue would be in the middle again.

  “Good, because I make a wonderful lemon meringue pie. How are you at licking the whisk?”

  Rue smiled again, this time more relaxed. Thomas settled himself onto the seat next to his daughter, and he gave Patience a small smile. Their conversation would have to wait...again.

  “I’m a good licker!” Rue declared.

  “I’m good at licking the whisk, too,” he said in mock seriousness. “It might run in the family.”

  “No, Daddy, it’s for me!” Rue complained, and Patience chuckled.

  “Your daet will be working, Rue. So there isn’t much worry that he’ll get to the whisk first.”

  “You never know,” Thomas replied with a teasing grin. “I might sneak back, just in time—”

  “Daddy, no!” Rue was smiling this time, though.

  “A daet deserves a treat, too,” he joked, and then he flicked the reins and the horses started.

  “A daddy...” Rue whispered so softly that Patience almost missed it.

  This child would wear a plain dress, and she’d eat Amish food, but there was a stubborn spirit in Rue that would not accept an Amish daet.

  Chapter Four

  Patience helped Rue down from the buggy when they got back to the house. She was light—weighing about the same as a large cat. She was thin, and Patience could feel her ribs through that striped sundress. She was a naturally slight child, and Patience felt an urge to feed her—plump her up, if possible.

  “Are those more horses?” Rue asked as Patience set her on the ground. Patience looked in the direction Rue was pointing.

  “Yah, those are more horses,” Thomas said, coming around to their side of the buggy. “But that big one—the black stallion, there—he’s mean. Real mean. You stay away from the horse corral, okay?”

  “Okay...” Rue frowned. “What’s a stallion?”

  “A boy horse,” Patience said.

  “How’s it a boy?” Rue squinted up at Patience, and Patience chuckled. There were many lessons that a life on a farm gave to children, but this one could wait.

  “If that horse were a human, it would wear a straw hat and suspenders,” Patience replied with a smile. “That’s how you know.”

  “Huh.” Rue seemed to accept this at face value. “I want suspenders, too.”

  “Little girls don’t wear suspenders,” Patience replied. “They wear pretty dresses, and when they get old enough, they get a kapp, like mine. You see this kapp?”

  She tapped the white fabric that covered her bun.

  “Can I have one now?” Rue asked. “Instead of suspenders, then?”

  Patience looked over at Thomas and found him watching her, instead of Rue. His brows were knit, and when she caught his gaze, he straightened and dropped it.

  “You have to get old enough,” Thomas said to Rue. “Now, I’m going to unhitch these horses. You go inside with Patience, okay?”

  Thomas waited as Patience caught the little girl’s hand, then he took the lead horse’s bridle and started toward the stable. Rue stared after him.

  “You must be very careful aro
und horses, Rue,” Patience said, starting toward the house. “Kinner have been hurt very badly playing around horses.”

  There was so much Rue had to learn. She might not be very old yet, but Amish children her age knew all sorts of safety rules. Add to that, Rue would have to catch up on more than their culture, their clothing and their faith. The very foundation of an Amish child’s life was obedience. Immediate obedience. From what Patience saw of the Englisher children in town, they weren’t raised with the same expectation. Englisher children sassed back, said no when asked to do something, ignored their parents. It was unheard of in Amish communities—kinner who behaved like that were very quickly corrected. And they didn’t do it again.

  As Patience led Rue into the mudroom, she shut the door behind her. The house was silent, and Patience peeked into the kitchen. There were some dishes to be done, and Mary was nowhere to be seen. When Patience glanced into the sitting room, she saw the old woman in a rocking chair, her chin dropped down to her chest and her breath coming slow and deep.

  “Mammi is sleeping,” Rue said.

  “Yah, it looks that way,” Patience replied. “We have to be quiet to let her rest. In fact, I think it is your naptime, too.”

  “Naptime?” Rue eyed Patience uncertainly.

  “Yah. Kinner like you take naps,” Patience replied.

  “I’m not a kinner!” Rue said.

  “Yah, you are. Kinner means children. You’re a child.”

  “Don’t call me that,” Rue said irritably.

  Rue was tired. It had been a long morning, and Patience could only imagine how hard things had been for her recently.

  “All right,” Patience said softly. “I will call you sugar, then. Is that nicer?”

  Rue considered this a moment, and Patience could see the fight seeping out of her.

  “I’m not tired,” Rue whispered.

  “Then you lie on your bed and you think quiet thoughts,” Patience replied.

  “I don’t want to.” Rue’s lips pressed together, and that defiant glitter came back to her eye. Patience had a choice in how she dealt with this, and she debated inwardly for a moment, then she squatted down to Rue’s level.

  “What if I lay down next to you?” Patience asked.

  Tears welled in Rue’s blue eyes and she nodded. “Okay.”

  Patience led Rue upstairs, and she found Mary’s bedroom with a little cot all arranged next to her bed. Patience doubted that the old woman would mind her bed being used for a napping little girl, so Patience lifted Rue up onto the quilted bed top, and then lay down next to her. Rue let out a shuddering little sigh.

  “I’m not tired,” Rue repeated.

  “I know, sugar,” Patience replied, and she took Rue’s hand in hers. “Me, neither. Let’s just lie quietly for a little while. Maybe we’ll even shut our eyes a bit.”

  It didn’t take long for Rue to fall asleep, and Patience looked down at the girl with her long, pale lashes and the pink little lips. That striped sundress looked so strange against the blue-and-white Amish quilt, and Patience fingered the material. It was soft and stretchy, unlike the cotton of plain dresses and men’s shirts. Rue needed new clothes—but would she wear them, or would she fight it? This girl was so small, and sleeping she looked even younger than her four years, but the spirit in her—she had fight. Downstairs, the side door banged shut, and Patience eased herself slowly off the bed. She could hear the steady beat of Thomas’s footsteps on the stairs. She crossed the room on tiptoe, and when she got to the doorway, Thomas’s face appeared around the doorjamb. Her breath caught, and for a moment they just looked at each other—his dark gaze meeting hers. He was so close that she had to tip her face up, and she could make out the faint stubble on his chin. He was handsome—dare she admit that? And there was something about the way his gaze moved across her face that made her hold her breath. She’d have to get over her way of reacting to him.

  Patience put a finger to her lips. Thomas’s dark gaze flicked over her shoulder to where Rue lay sleeping.

  “Oh...” he breathed, a smile tickling the corners of his lips. “How did you manage that?”

  “I’m not sure,” she whispered, and they exchanged a smile.

  Thomas angled his head toward the stairs and she let out a shaky breath as he turned away.

  “Englisher kinner aren’t raised the same way,” Patience said, following him down the stairs.

  “Don’t I know it,” Thomas replied. He headed for a cupboard and pulled down a sealed plastic container, then opened it. “Do you want a muffin?”

  “Yah. Thanks.”

  Thomas passed a blueberry muffin to her, then took one for himself. Patience took a bite and swallowed before she continued.

  “Englisher kinner don’t obey like Amish kinner. The Englisher parents seem to do more pleading with their kinner to make them behave, and quite frankly, it’s dangerous on our land.”

  “You think I’ll be pleading?” he asked ruefully.

  “I confess, I did a little pleading of my own up there,” she replied.

  Thomas laughed—a full, open laugh that she didn’t expect—and she blinked at him. His dark eyes met hers with a glitter of humor.

  “So, I’m not the only one?” Thomas said, shaking his head. “If she were raised plain, she’d already know the rules. It’ll take some time.”

  “And in the meantime, she’s not going to know what’s dangerous,” Patience added. “From fire in the stove to the horses in the corral—this is all completely foreign to an Englisher child. She’s an accident waiting to happen.”

  “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” Thomas asked hopefully.

  “Yah,” she said. “But I don’t think either of us knows what she’ll get into once she feels more comfortable.”

  Thomas nodded. “Yah. Definitely. Maybe having her play with some kinner would help with that. Learning while she plays.”

  “It’s a good idea,” Patience agreed. “I don’t even remember learning everything I gleaned while playing with my older sisters. Maybe there are some girls who would... I don’t know...take her under wing a little.”

  Thomas looked at her, his expression sobering. “You saw the reaction of the women in the store today.”

  “Yah,” she admitted. “Maybe that was rooted in surprise, though.” Eventually, the community would learn who Rue was and why she was here.

  “I’ll see what I can sort out,” he said.

  Patience finished the muffin and then wiped the crumbs from her fingers. She went to the sink, put in the plug and looked around for the dish soap.

  “Uh... I can do that,” Thomas said.

  Patience looked up at him, a little embarrassed. “This is women’s work.”

  “I know it’s not my place to tell you what needs to be done,” Thomas said, his voice low. “But Rue needs dresses, and if you’d be willing to start on that, I can clean up.”

  “Oh...” She felt the heat hit her cheeks. Had she overstepped somehow?

  “We’re a houseful of bachelors,” Thomas said. “We fend for ourselves a lot. We’ll be right proper once we’re married, I’m sure, but—” He shrugged.

  “Yah, well, I can start sewing,” Patience said.

  As she stepped away from the sink, Thomas pulled a bottle of dish soap from the cabinet and squirted it into the running water. He rolled his sleeves up past his elbows and looked around himself for a moment, then started gathering the dirty dishes. He looked...practiced. He’d spent time with the Englishers... Was this his time away shining through?

  For the next few minutes, Patience cut out the paper pattern for a little dress, then laid out the cloth and began pinning the pattern in place. Mammi’s sewing basket was in the corner, so Patience made use of it. Girls’ dresses were simple enough to sew, and they left lots of room for a child to grow, too. She’d
helped her sisters make all sorts of clothes for her nieces and nephews over the years, so her hands knew the work.

  But as she worked, she caught herself looking up at the quiet man who continued to wash, dry and put away the stack of morning dishes.

  “I know that you spent time with the Englishers,” she said after some silence. “I shouldn’t be trying to inform you of how they raise their kinner.”

  “Yah. I went there to live with my mamm for my Rumspringa and stayed for three years. I’m twenty-four now, so I’ve been home for a while,” he replied. “But they’re different, the Englishers. They keep to themselves. You don’t see as much as you think you will about how their families work. The young people spend time together, and the older people have their friends... The different generations don’t come together very often.”

  That seemed sad—and lonely. All the same, a woman like her who wouldn’t be raising children of her own might fit into an Englisher system a little easier than she would here with her own people. She wouldn’t ask about that, though. It wouldn’t be right to show curiosity about the Englishers. Still... He’d loved an Englisher girl, hadn’t he? Obviously they weren’t so strange and different to him.

  Thomas seemed to feel her eyes on him, and he turned. She felt the heat hit her face and she dropped her attention to the pattern on the fabric. Was that jealousy she’d just felt?

  “I had a choice,” he said quietly. “I could stay with my mamm and live an Englisher life, or I could come back. It wasn’t easy. Your home, your life... Your mother is supposed to be a part of that, isn’t she?” He waited, as if he expected her to answer, and when she didn’t, he went on, “But I’m Amish. And I came back. I’ll be Amish until I die.”

  “I wasn’t questioning your dedication,” she said.

  “I thought it should be said,” he replied.

  “Do you miss your mamm?” she asked quietly.

  Thomas pressed his lips together, then nodded. “Yah. Of course.”

  But he was living away from her. An Amish family got together with all the grandparents, aunts and uncles and cousins regularly. Even coming out here to teach school, Patience knew she’d go back to visit her family at Christmas, and to help her mamm with all the Christmas baking. Would Thomas have his mamm’s cooking to look forward to come Christmas?