But out here by a babbling creek, the wind ruffling her dress and Rue laughing at the sheer freedom of the morning, she had to silently pray for strength. It would be too easy to fall for this man, and there would be no benefit in it. She wasn’t the wife for him.
“So you used to play here?” Patience said in English.
“Yah. My mamm would pack me and Noah a lunch and send us off on her floor-washing days. She always said we got in the way more than we helped, so we’d carry our lunch down here and we’d play for hours until our food was gone and we were good and hungry again. I used to use a rope and put it over a branch and we’d swing over the water.”
Patience could almost see them—two sun-browned boys whooping and playing.
“Were there only two of you in the family?” Patience asked. It was a noticeably small family for the Amish.
“Yah.” Thomas frowned. “I asked my mamm if she’d have more babies, and she always said that Gott was the one who gave kinner, and that I should take it up with Him. I never got more explanation than that.”
Patience could understand that kind of answer. She had a similar one, herself, except she wouldn’t have the pleasure of having even one child of her own. She often wondered why Gott had taken away this ability for her. There didn’t seem to be any benefit to anyone else by denying her the simple ability to be a mamm. She was born Amish, with one duty to a husband, and unable to provide it.
“So you wanted more siblings?” she asked.
“Yah, of course,” he said. “My friends all had big families and lots of little brothers and sisters to pester them, and I felt like I missed out a bit. I had Noah, but our home was a quiet one. I liked the mayhem.”
“I suppose you could make up for that with a houseful of kinner of your own,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t sound strained.
He shot her a grin. “I suppose I could.”
Was he imagining those kinner belonging to them? Because she was...even though she knew it wasn’t a possibility.
“Come on,” he said, putting down the basket. “Let’s find a spot for the blanket.”
Thomas unfolded the worn quilt and handed her one side of it. They shook it open, and then spread it down on the lush grass that lined the water.
“Can I go in?” Rue pleaded. “Can I go into the river?”
It wasn’t much of a river, and there hadn’t been much rain that spring, either, so it was only a few inches deep and rippled over the rocks in a merry babble.
“Yah, go ahead,” Thomas said, and he crossed his arms over his chest, watching Rue pull off her shoes and dip her toes into the water.
“It’s warm!” Rue said, and she lifted her dress up above her knees and stepped farther in. “Are there fish, Daddy?”
“There might be,” he said. “If you look really closely.”
Patience couldn’t help but smile, and she put the picnic basket on one corner of the blanket, then lowered herself down to sit on it, adjusting her skirt to cover her legs. Thomas settled himself next to her, leaning back on his hands, and she couldn’t help but notice the ripple of muscle that was visible in his forearms. She purposefully looked away, and her gaze fell on the initials sewn onto the edge of the quilt—RW.
“Who made this quilt?” she asked.
“My mamm. Years ago.”
It was a simple block quilt, and she could see a few blocks that hadn’t lined up perfectly. It was the kind of quilt a girl started on, learning as she went. Although, Rachel would have been a wife already when she started learning, she realized.
“I made a few quilts like this,” Patience said, running her fingers over the stitching. “In fact, a basic block quilt would be best for Rue’s quilt, I think.”
“Would you be willing to make it for her?” Thomas asked. He looked over at her, and there was something about his warm gaze that made her look down again.
“Sure, yah. I could.”
“I’d pay you for your time,” he said. “I’m not trying to take advantage of your good nature, or anything.”
“You don’t have to pay me,” she said with a faint smile. “It will give me something to work on in the evenings.”
It would give her something to do besides grading papers, quite frankly. And it would help her to feel like she was useful, because that was the thing that had been hanging on her these last few years—a feeling of general uselessness. Yes, she could cook and clean, but so could her mamm. She was the barren, single daughter left at home—loved, of course, but not really needed for the running of things. Teaching school was supposed to help with that, but now that she was here in Redemption, she wasn’t so certain that it would fill all the gaps. There were a few left over. What Patience wanted most was a home of her own, but that didn’t seem likely.
“I messed up by taking Rue’s Englisher clothes away,” Thomas said.
Patience looked over at him, surprised by the abrupt change in subject. His expression was less guarded now, and he watched his daughter play in the water as he talked.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” he went on. “If you’d seen her doing her very best to be good—so solemn and careful—and then begging me with tears in her eyes to give them back...”
Patience’s heart gave a squeeze. “She’s learning, but so are you.”
“Yah, but I’m the parent, and it’s in my power to ruin her. She can’t ruin me.” Thomas sighed. “If you ever notice I’m doing something that I probably shouldn’t, tell me, okay?”
“Are you sure you want me to?” Patience asked. “It would be intruding, interfering.”
“It would be insight from a friend,” he replied, and he turned his dark gaze toward her.
“Am I a friend?” she asked.
“Yah. I thought so. You don’t?”
Patience smiled, then shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m a neighbor lending a hand. I wasn’t sure if you’d want more from me after this.”
She knew that her words were loaded—wanting more from her... And she didn’t really mean the implied intimacy, because even if he did want more from their relationship, he’d change his mind once he knew that she’d never have kinner. She caught Thomas’s gaze locked on her, and she looked up, smiling self-consciously.
“What?” she said.
“You’re very beautiful,” he said quietly.
His words slipped beneath her defenses, and she felt her cheeks heat. Why did he say things like that?
“I’m the plain sister in my family,” she said with a low laugh, trying to push away his compliment. “I was never the pretty one. Trust me on that.”
“You’re the pretty one for me,” he replied.
Did he really think so, or was he flirting? It was hard to think of herself in that way.
“You shouldn’t talk like that,” she said. “I’m the schoolteacher, and you’ll be embarrassed later when Rue is in my classroom and you’ll remember sweet-talking me by the creek.”
“I won’t be embarrassed,” he said, and his expression was completely honest. “I’m only telling you the truth.”
He’d be married to someone else, no doubt, and that would change things. But she didn’t want to say that out loud. There was something about this quiet morning that she wanted to protect. Even if he never thought of it again, she would.
“Tell me about you,” he said after a moment of silence. “You have sisters, you said.”
“There are six of us—and I’m the youngest,” Patience replied. “They’re all married now with kinner of their own. So I’m the favorite aunt of seventeen youngsters.”
Thomas chuckled. “I like that.”
“One of my nephews has a learning disability, and I was the one who taught him to read and write,” she said. “His name is Mark, and when he was born, he had the cord wrapped around his neck so he didn’t get oxygen fast en
ough. It affected him.”
“That’s awful,” Thomas said.
“Gott brought him through. And now, he’s the funniest kid—he tells jokes and has the other kids in stitches. The teacher couldn’t take the time with him, though, and I think he distracted the class a lot because he’d rather joke than admit the work was too hard for him. He kept getting notes sent home, and his daet was just beside himself trying to get him to behave. But I sat him down and took the time he needed to really understand. And after that, I thought I’d like to teach. It’s very satisfying watching kinner catch on, especially when they’ve really struggled with it.”
“They must miss you,” Thomas said.
“Oh... I suppose. Somewhat. But they all have their own families.”
“You’re a part of their families,” he countered.
“I know. And they do miss me, I’m sure. I’m just feeling the—” She stopped. She was talking too much.
“Feeling what?” he asked.
“I needed this change,” she said, and she forced a smile.
“There’s a fish!” Rue called from the creek. She stood there, water just past her ankles, looking down at something. “Patience, come look! There’s a fish!”
The distraction was well-timed, and Patience pushed herself to her feet. She kicked off her shoes and went barefoot to the bank of the creek, and then stepped into the rippling water. Rue was right—it was warm, and she made her way slowly over the smooth rocks to where Rue stood.
“See?” Rue said, pointing down at a little stick.
“That’s not a fish, Rue,” Patience chuckled. “That’s a piece of stick.”
“Oh.” Rue straightened and looked around, but just then Patience saw a flash of silver, and then another one.
“Rue, look—” Patience pointed. “There. Do you see that flash? And there. Those are fish.”
Rue bent down to look, her dress drifting in the water, but then she shrieked with delight.
“It’s fishes, Daddy!” she hollered. “All sorts of them!”
Patience looked up to find Thomas sitting in the same position she’d left him, leaning back on his hands, his legs crossed at the ankles in front of him and his gaze locked on them. It wasn’t just Rue he was watching...
She’d better not get used to this. It wouldn’t last—it couldn’t! And if anyone spotted them, they’d assume they were courting, when they weren’t. Once a rumor like that started, it could be very uncomfortable.
“Are you hungry, Rue?” Patience asked.
Maybe it was better to keep things focused on the little girl who had tugged them together in the first place. Because whatever had started to develop between them could only end in someone getting hurt...and she suspected that someone would be her.
Chapter Nine
Thomas opened the picnic basket, and Rue sat on her knees on the blanket, bouncing while she waited for her food. She ate ravenously, much more than he thought a girl that size could consume. But then, when she’d finally eaten her second piece of pie, she seemed to fill up, and she laid herself down on the blanket with a deep sigh.
“Daddy,” Rue said quietly. “Do you know any more stories?”
“Yah,” he chuckled. “All sorts.”
“Tell me a story about when you were little,” she said. “Little like me.”
“Like you?” he said.
Patience looked over at him with a smile tickling the corners of her lips, and he suddenly felt shy. What kind of story could he tell that would both please his daughter and impress the teacher? That wasn’t going to be easy.
“I’m not sure Patience wants to hear stories,” he hedged.
“Oh, I do, though,” Patience said, breaking into a full smile. “Tell us a story, Daet. We want to hear one.”
Daet. The term warmed his heart, and there was something about how Patience said it—with warmth and familiarity. It almost felt like she could be the mamm here.
“Okay, you want a story,” Thomas said. He frowned to himself, sifting through his memories of childhood antics, punishments he’d received, his brother’s tricks and games... “All right, I have one.”
“Is it from when you were little like me?” Rue asked.
“I was a little bit bigger than you,” he replied. “But I was still a little boy.”
Rue fixed him with a direct stare, and then she yawned. “You can start.”
Patience seemed to sense Rue growing tired, too, because she reached out and started to stroke the girl’s blond hair in a slow, methodical way.
“One spring, when I was a little boy,” Thomas began, “my mamm got sick with a terrible flu. The flu turned into pneumonia, which meant that she was sick for a few weeks and had to stay inside. So she gave me a very special job to do—I had to plant the garden.”
His mind went back to those days, when his mamm and daet were the center of his world, and he’d never once suspected that they’d ever been anything other than exactly what they were—Amish. Life had been simple back then, and sweet.
“My mamm gave me very specific instructions,” Thomas said. “I was to plant three rows of carrots, three rows of peas, three rows of cabbage... But it all seemed very tiring. Mamm said I had to put three seeds in a little hole, and then move down a foot, and put three more seeds in a hole, move down another foot... We had a very, very big garden.”
Rue’s eyes started to drift shut, but she said, “You were helpful.”
“Yah, I was helpful,” Thomas agreed. “At least I intended to be. At first. But when I started planting, it was a very warm day, and I was tired and cranky, and all by myself out there. It was just me and the dirt. I started to get lazy. I started putting more than three seeds in each hole, and I started putting more space between the holes, just trying to finish up faster. And every time I got to a new row, it just seemed like it would take forever to finish up.”
Rue’s eyes were shut now, and her breath was coming slowly.
“Rue?” he said softly.
There was no reply. She’d fallen asleep. Just as well. He didn’t come out well in this story. Maybe he should have chosen a different one.
“So what happened?” Patience asked.
He looked up, then chuckled. “Oh... I did a terrible job of planting, and my parents found that out when it all came up a couple of weeks later. They got some advice from a neighbor about putting some more seeds in between the ones I’d planted too far apart, and I think they were also advised to give me extra chores for a while.”
“Did they?” she asked with a small smile.
“Yah. They did.” He still remembered that punishment, not because it was so painful, but because he’d known that he deeply deserved it. He’d been so ashamed of himself, not helping properly when his mamm had been so sick. “But the most important lesson I learned that day was that what you plant will eventually come up, in life as well as in gardens.”
“A good lesson,” she said softly.
“Yah, a good one.” He looked down at his daughter asleep on the blanket. “I made mistakes in my life, Patience, and I am certainly reaping from the mistakes I made, but I can’t regret my little girl.”
“Sometimes Gott gives us some grace in the middle of our consequences,” Patience replied.
And that was what Rue had turned out to be—the most generous gift Gott could have given him, in the form of one little girl whom he hardly deserved.
Rue stirred a little in her sleep, and Thomas pushed himself to his feet, then held out a hand to Patience.
“Let’s let her rest,” he suggested.
Patience accepted his hand and he tugged her to her feet as well, and as they walked the few yards to the creek bank, he kept her hand in his. Her fingers were soft, and the contact with her felt natural in the moment. He turned to look back at Rue, and Patience leaned into his arm. It
was an innocent enough movement, but it reminded him of just how close she was, and he dropped her hand then, and slid his instead around her waist.
She felt good there next to him, his arm around her, her face leaned against his shoulder, and looking down at her, he didn’t know why he’d been holding himself back all this time. She was beautiful, insightful, kind...
“Patience,” he murmured.
She lifted her cheek from his shoulder and looked up at him, and when her gaze met his, he felt like the rest of the field and trees, the creek and the twitter of birds all seemed to evaporate around him. It was just the two of them—this beautiful woman who had tumbled into his life, and himself. His stomach seemed to hover in the center of him, and he swallowed. She was beautiful, but it was more than that... Looking down at her, he was feeling a tumble of emotion that he couldn’t even name. But it felt good, and scary and—he just wanted to be close to her. She met his gaze easily enough, and without thinking better of it, he leaned in, wondering if she’d pull back, but she didn’t. Instead, her eyes fluttered shut, and as his lips covered hers, he let out a sigh of relief.
That kiss felt like the culmination of everything he’d been longing for, and when they pulled back and he opened his eyes, he saw Patience staring up at him in surprise.
“Oh...” she breathed.
He couldn’t help but grin. “I’ve been thinking about doing that for a little while now.”
“We shouldn’t do that,” she whispered.
“You didn’t want that kiss?” he asked. Because it had felt like she did. If he’d gotten that wrong, he’d feel terrible.
“No, I wanted it,” she said, and pink infused her cheeks. She pulled out of his arms. “But we can’t.”
But why not? They were both single and Amish. They both seemed to be feeling something here—unless she was still uncertain about him because of his family... Or was it her own history?
“Is it the man you left behind?” he asked.
“No...” She shook her head. “Thomas, I’m not the wife for you.”
“How do you know?” he asked. Was it his history? His parents? His daughter? Was he not Amish enough for her, after all? All the possibilities tumbled through his head.
The Nanny's Amish Family Page 11