That had bothered Miriam, and when she told him her family was moving away, he knew she was giving him the chance to change his mind. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it, and she ended their relationship that night. She left the week after, and Dan had to admit he hadn’t thought much about her since, which only proved he’d been right. Even if Miriam hadn’t moved away, they wouldn’t have had a future together.
“Why don’t you stay for supper, Fern?” Iva asked as she removed her boots. “We’re just having leftover meat loaf sandwiches, but you’re welcome to join us.”
Dan saw Fern’s hesitation. If she didn’t feel good, he didn’t blame her for not wanting to stay. But to his surprise, her expression brightened.
“I would like that,” she said, smiling. “How can I help with the meal?”
As Iva answered Fern, Alvin turned to Dan. “Before we eat, we can take a look at that project I mentioned.”
“Sure.” But Dan gave Fern one last look before he left with his brother. He was glad she’d decided to stay. Hopefully someday he could figure out why he was so drawn to her lately.
Chapter 2
Dan looked at the old-fashioned carriage in his brother’s workshop. “How old is this?”
Alvin touched the ripped fabric on the back of one of the open vehicle’s seats. “Early twentieth century. Two antique dealers found it in an old barn in Indiana. They heard we sometimes restore old cars, so they brought this one here. They call it a Stanley Steamer.”
Dan walked around the rusty car, which was covered with a layer of dust. It had two seats—a lower one in the front and a higher one in the back, enough to seat four people. The Steamer didn’t have a roof, and from what he could tell, it wasn’t supposed to. The wheels, what was left of them, resembled thick, large bicycle tires without any tread. “I’ve never seen anything like this,” he said, examining the steering mechanism.
“Neither had I or Daed.” He strode to one of the workbenches and picked up a piece of paper. “Here’s a picture of what these vehicles look like restored.”
Impressed at what the simple car was supposed to look like, Dan nodded. Refurbished, it would be unique, more of a show car than drivable. Although he’d never learned how to drive a car, he did like the looks of some of the antique ones, especially the really old cars. “Danki for showing me this,” he said, handing Alvin the paper.
“Like I said, I’m hoping you’ll help me with it.”
Dan looked at his brother, uneasiness coming over him. “You and Daed know I’m not interested in the buggy business.”
“Ya, we both know,” Alvin said, a touch of annoyance in his voice. “We’re not talking about you joining the business. But you can see how much work needs to be done on this car, and Daed and Mamm are leaving for Sarasota in two days for their yearly vacation. The undercarriage needs to be taken off and repaired, if not outright replaced. There’s plenty of body work to do too.”
Dan glanced at the vehicle again. He wasn’t just a farrier; he was also a blacksmith, and from what his customers said, he was a good one. He also had welding experience. He’d started his own business two years ago, building it from the ground up, and he preferred to work exclusively with iron and metal. “When is it supposed to be finished?”
“In a month.”
He frowned. “Why didn’t you tell them that isn’t enough time?”
“Because I can use the work, Dan.” He touched the torn, dusty fabric again. “Business is slow in the winter—you know that yourself. Also, I’ll soon have another mouth to feed.”
“I figured that’s why you and Iva went to Akron. But you aren’t in financial trouble, are you?”
Alvin shook his head. “Nee. But the dealers are paying top dollar for the short deadline. And”—he grinned, spreading his arm out over the car—“Look at this beauty. We’ll never have the chance to work on a vehicle this old again.”
Dan didn’t miss how his brother had already assumed he would agree to help. But Alvin was right. This was not only a chance to do something different and unique, but Dan’s farrier and blacksmith businesses were also slow right now. Besides all that, Alvin needed his help in more ways than one, and Dan wasn’t going to let him down.
“All right,” he said, kneeling and inspecting the undercarriage of the vehicle, which was dented and warped with flaking paint. Then he stood. “I’ll help you.”
Alvin clapped him on the back, looking relieved. “Danki, Dan. I think this will be a great project.”
“I agree. But after that, I’m back to mei own businesses.” He had to make it clear that he wasn’t going to join them, no matter how his father and brother kept trying to convince him to do it.
“Understood.”
They discussed the car a little longer and cared for their horses, and by the time they walked into the kitchen, supper was on the table. Turning after washing his hands at the kitchen sink, he saw Fern seated between Johnnie and Leroy, which was a smart move on her part—as long as she didn’t mind being a human buffer. More than once he’d witnessed the boys trying to irritate each other during a meal, and Alvin always reprimanded them. But just like Alvin and Dan at their age, his nephews never failed to push the edge of that envelope whenever they could.
Dan sat down across from Fern as Alvin and Iva took their places at the opposite ends of the table. After prayer, they all passed around the food and started eating, Fern taking the time to cut Leroy’s sandwich into four pieces the size of a five-year-old’s hand.
Alvin looked at Johnnie, who was stuffing a huge spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth. “I want you to practice yer reading after supper.”
“Mff fffm mmm?” Johnnie said around the potatoes.
“Don’t talk with yer mouth full,” Iva said. “Swallow those potatoes before you speak.”
Johnnie complied, then looked at his father. “Do I have to?” he repeated.
“Ya. You have to.”
Dan sympathized with his nephew. He’d disliked school from the time he started until he completed the last year for every Amish child—eighth grade. Except for recess. He enjoyed recess. He guessed Johnnie might be more like him than he thought.
“Practice will help you improve yer grade.” Iva held up a plate of pickled eggs toward Fern. “Would you like one?”
“Danki.” Fern took an egg and placed it next to her open-faced meat loaf sandwich.
Dan thought back as he watched her cut the sandwich precisely in half. Unlike him and Johnnie, she had always been a good student. That gave him an idea. “Fern, do you do any tutoring?”
She glanced up, looking surprised. “Nee. Nee one’s asked me to.”
“Would you consider it?”
“I’m . . . not sure.” She looked as uncertain as her statement indicated. “I guess I could . . .”
“Are you thinking about Fern tutoring Johnnie in reading?” Alvin asked. When Dan nodded, Alvin looked at Fern. “That’s a great idea, if it’s something you’re interested in.”
“What’s tutoring?” Johnnie asked.
“It’s extra help with yer reading schoolwork.” Iva smiled at Fern, who still appeared a little confused.
“Yuck.” Johnnie swirled his potatoes with his spoon. “I don’t want nee tutoring.”
Now Dan was having second thoughts. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked Fern about this in front of Alvin and Iva. He’d put her on the spot without meaning to. Johnnie was a challenge, possibly one Fern didn’t want to take on.
Alvin put his hand on Johnnie’s, stopping him from making a bigger mess on his plate. “What do you say, Fern? Will you tutor mei sohn?”
* * *
Fern didn’t know what to say. She was still so tired, and it was taking all the energy she had not to fall asleep or rub her sore knees under the table. She should have just gone home, but she didn’t want to be rude by turning down Iva’s invitation. Besides, she liked Alvin and Iva, and, for the most part, their children. And she had to admit, Dan
being here might also have had something to do with her decision.
She glanced at him, wondering why he’d brought up tutoring. It was ironic, because she had always wanted to become a schoolteacher. But Dan wouldn’t know that. She’d never told anyone other than her mother and sister, and she’d never applied for a teaching job because of her illness.
Fern looked at both Alvin and Iva. They seemed eager for her answer. While she preferred time to think about something this important, she didn’t want to keep them waiting. “I’d like to,” she said, meaning it. She was confident she could manage one student for a short period of time. She would enjoy tutoring, and although Johnnie would be a reluctant pupil, she was up for the challenge. At least she would be once her RA flare was over and she got some sleep.
“Terrific. How about starting tomorrow?” Alvin said.
“I think we can hold off until next week,” Iva said with a gentle tone. “Is that okay with you, Fern?”
She nodded, relieved that she would get a few days rest before meeting with Johnnie.
When they’d finished their meal, Alvin excused himself to finish the chores outside. Fern offered to help clean up, but Iva refused. “We’ve kept you long enough,” she said, glancing out the window. It was already dark, and snow had started to fall again.
“I can take you home,” Dan said.
Fern’s heart seemed to flip. Dan was taking her home. Even though his offer was nothing more than a nice gesture he’d make to anyone, her brain and heart weren’t paying attention to that truth. How should she answer him? She didn’t want to appear too eager, but she didn’t want to turn him down either. He might actually withdraw the offer, and she didn’t want to miss this opportunity to be alone with him.
Wait. She was going to be alone with Dan? She glanced down at her dress, wishing she’d worn something a little newer—
“Fern?”
She looked up. Dan was standing in front of her now. He was nearly half a foot taller than her, and, as usual, she noticed his strong build. Especially his arms, which were well developed from working in the forge. But she tried not to notice that and focused on his eyes. That wasn’t much better since their mesmerizing blue hue was turning her aching knees to jelly.
“Hello? Fern? Did you hear me?”
Dan tapped her on the shoulder, and she blinked, then came to her senses. Get yourself together. “Oh ya . . . danki . . . I’ll take the ride home . . . it’s nice of you to offer . . . danki.” Her words blended together in one weirdly blurted sentence.
He gave her an odd look. “Okay, then. I’ll get mei buggy hitched up.”
When he walked into the mudroom, her shoulders slumped. Why did she have to act like a fool in front of him? He probably wished he could take back the tutoring idea.
She felt a tug on the hem of her skirt and looked down to see Leroy gazing up at her. He had a small piece of banana bread in his little hand. She crouched in front of him and smiled, temporarily forgetting about her embarrassing exchange with Dan, bracing against the pain in her knees. “Ya?”
“Here.” He handed her the sweet treat.
She took it, her heart filling with joy. He was such a nice boy, even if he’d already taken a bite out of the bread. “That’s very generous of you, Leroy,” she said, brushing fine light-brown hair off his forehead before rising to her feet. When she turned around, she found Johnnie leaning against the table, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Good-bye, Johnnie,” she said. “I’ll see you next week.”
“I don’t want nee tutoring.”
“I know.”
“I don’t like reading.”
She moved closer to him. “I know that too. And you don’t have to like it, but you do have to get gut grades. I’m going to help you do that.”
He seemed to relax a bit, although his arms were still crossed. Then he dashed out of the room, without giving either Fern or his mother another look.
“I think you’ll have yer work cut out for you,” Iva said as she carried a stack of dishes to the kitchen counter. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Fern nodded as she gathered utensils, the least she could do. “I’m sure. I’ll try mei best to help him.”
“Alvin worries a bit too much,” Iva said. “He remembers what he and Dan were like in school, and he doesn’t want Johnnie to be the same way.”
Fern had never thought Dan was a problem in school. Then again, she’d noticed only his good qualities. Alvin was several years older than they were, and she hadn’t paid much attention to him. “Johnnie will be okay,” she said, believing it.
“I know. God is in control.” Iva smiled as she scooped up the last of the dinnerware on the table. “Danki for helping us this afternoon and for being willing to tutor Johnnie.”
“You’re welcome,” Fern said, then glanced out the kitchen window. A few flakes had stuck to the glass. “I shouldn’t keep Dan waiting.” She told Iva good-bye, then went to the mudroom to put on her coat, bonnet, and boots, trying to hide the effort it took to do so in case anyone walked into the room. Sitting for so long at the table had made her limbs stiff, and the cold weather didn’t help.
As she stepped outside, the snow was falling steadily, the air crisp and filled with the smoky scent of burning wood from the fireplaces in the surrounding houses. She didn’t live that far from Iva and Alvin, but it was nice not to have a cold, snowy walk home tonight, especially when she was so exhausted.
Her joints loosened a bit as she moved to the passenger side of Dan’s buggy. She started to climb in, and without warning, her legs suddenly gave way, causing her to slip on the buggy’s step and fall on her backside in the snow.
“Are you all right?”
Fern looked up to see Dan rushing toward her. The snow seeped through the skirt of her dress, and she shivered. Great. What a way to start a nice, private ride home with him. “I’m fine,” she said, trying to get up. Her hips hurt. She moved slowly, but she still lost her balance again.
“Here.” He put his arm around her shoulders and helped her up off the ground, almost lifting her completely. After he set her on her feet, he removed his arm.
“Danki,” she mumbled. Her body always betrayed her when she was this tired and cold. When she started to climb into the buggy again, Dan held out his hand. Under normal circumstances she would have been thrilled by the idea of holding his hand, but this wasn’t a normal circumstance. Because I’m not normal.
Reluctantly, she accepted his offer. Her gloves were still in her pockets, and she felt the warmth of his hand, which was twice the size of hers. Despite her embarrassment, her heart sparked again. He pulled back the winter shield and helped her into the buggy, then climbed in on the other side.
Dan handed her a thick blanket. “This will warm you up.”
She took it and wrapped it around her legs, then snuggled into it up to her chest. The blanket smelled good, like Dan—fresh and clean and comforting.
“Sometimes that step can get icy.” He tapped on the reins, and his horse moved forward.
Fern nodded, but she didn’t say anything, her mood dipping again. There was no ice on the step, and they both knew it.
* * *
Dan glanced at Fern as he drove her home. Even though the winter shield protected them from the cold, wind, and snow and made the interior of the buggy darker than usual, all the streetlamps lining the route to her house allowed him to see that she was asleep again. That was fast.
He smiled. He could tell she was still exhausted, and he was glad she felt comfortable enough after that spill to catch a few winks.
He stared straight ahead, his mind thinking about the strangest thing—how Fern’s hand had felt in his.
Before, he’d noticed she was walking slowly, her movements stiff, and it wasn’t the first time he’d seen her move that way. Still, he was surprised when she fell, and he’d offered his hand to her because he didn’t want her to fall again. But when he held her hand, he got ano
ther surprise. Something shifted inside of him, and for a split second, he hadn’t wanted to let her go. Her hand was cold, but it was also delicate, and her skin was soft.
Shaking his head, he turned left onto Fern’s road. She’d laugh at him if she had any idea where his thoughts were going. Or she’d be offended. With Miriam, he never knew which mood she’d be in next, and he got tired of guessing and being wrong. He couldn’t imagine Fern being that fickle.
When he pulled into her driveway, he stopped the buggy, then gently tapped her on the shoulder. She murmured something and snuggled deeper into the blanket, making him wish he didn’t have to wake her. He put his hand on her small shoulder and gave her a harder nudge.
“Ow.” She jolted, the blanket slipping from her upper body.
He drew back. He didn’t think he’d pushed her hard.
She blinked. “Did I fall asleep?”
Dan nodded. “As soon as we hit the road.”
Fern pulled off the blanket and handed it to him, frowning a little. “I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to nap.”
“You must have been really tired. Mei nephews can wear a person out. Just ask their parents.”
She let out a weary chuckle. “They had a huge case of cabin fever today for sure. Danki for taking them outside.”
“Nee problem. I enjoy spending time with them.”
“I could see that.” She glanced at the house in front of them, wide awake now. “I better get inside. Mei parents are probably wondering what’s kept me so long.”
As she started to get out of the buggy, he scrambled around it to help her. She looked at his outstretched hand and paused, then slipped her hand into his again.
Jolt. There was the feeling again, stronger this time. He tried to ignore it, but when she set foot on the ground, she was close to him, enough that he could put his arms around her and hold her tight. At that moment, he really, really wanted to do just that.
“Danki,” she said, then yawned, her mouth forming a big O shape. “Sorry. Guess I’m still tired.”
“Don’t be sorry.” He pulled his hand from hers before he held on to it longer than necessary—or worse, gave in to his instincts. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Amish Generations Page 2