Healing Their Amish Hearts Page 12

  Jesse snorted. “He’ll win my approval by obeying what I say. I won’t have him reading books instead of doing his chores again. The livestock must not suffer because of his dereliction.”

  She nodded. “Ja, I agree. But maybe if you weren’t so grouchy with him all the time, he might be more willing to obey. It’s entirely appropriate to reprove your child with sharpness but then if you’d show an increase in love toward him afterward, he might not consider you to be his enemy. As it is, he thinks you don’t love him. And I’m sure that’s not the message you want to send him.”

  Jesse shrugged out of his damp coat. His eyes narrowed, his lips pursing tight with disapproval. “Miss Graber, do you presume to tell me how to raise my sohn?”

  She blinked. “Ach, of course not. But it seems you need some help right now. I just thought...”

  “I don’t need your advice on how to handle my boy,” he cut her off.

  She stared at him, completely aghast. Of all the nerve! Who did he think he was?

  The answer came loud and sharp to her mind. He was Sam’s father. She was simply the boy’s teacher and didn’t have a right to tell Jesse how to raise his own child.

  “This isn’t your business and I won’t allow you to interfere.” Jesse’s voice was low but powerful, like the sound of rolling thunder off in the distance. His hands were clenched, his features tight.

  Some inner guidance told her not to challenge him right now. But she didn’t have to like it.

  “All right. If that’s the way you want it,” she said.

  Drawing herself up straight, she reached for her scarf and shawl, which lay over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. Without speaking, she jerked them on, wrapping up tight against the frigid wind outside. It had stopped raining but the ride home would undoubtedly be as chilly as it was inside this kitchen.

  She walked to the door, longing to say something more. Wishing she dared plead with him to show some compassion toward his son. Sam seemed so lost right now. So did Jesse.

  He didn’t speak as she stepped out onto the back porch. A blast of chilly wind struck her in the face and she gasped. It slapped the screen door closed behind her. It reminded her of the glacial man standing inside, watching her go.

  He didn’t walk outside to see that she was safely in her buggy and on her way. But as she pulled out of the yard, she saw him standing at the living room window, watching her with a severe expression on his face. If she hadn’t seen his deep concern for Sam, she might think he hated the boy. That he hated the world.

  She tried to calm her trembling hands and beating heart as she headed home. She told herself everything was all right. Sam was safe. Jesse was obviously upset but, in the morning, things would look differently. Jesse would calm down and so would Sam. Unfortunately, the problem wouldn’t just resolve itself. Deep in her heart, she knew the issue wasn’t going away anytime soon. It occurred to her that Jesse’s trust in Gott was in tatters. He hadn’t said so but she knew without asking. His faith had been greatly damaged. And though she longed to help him and Sam, she had no idea how to go about it. Other than to keep tutoring Sam and trying to show both of them compassion, she didn’t have a clue. She just hoped it was enough.

  Chapter Ten

  Sam didn’t show up for school Monday morning. A part of Becca wondered if it was because of the disagreement she’d had with Jesse when the child ran away. Another part of her thought it might be just because Jesse was so busy with work that he couldn’t drive the boy here. She thought of offering to pick Sam up every morning on her way. After all, they lived only a mile apart. But she was already tutoring the boy three afternoons each week and barely keeping up with her own work as it was. It also occurred to her that Jesse needed that time alone with Sam each day, to be a father. What he did with the time was up to him. He could make it a quality chat with his boy or a silent, sullen trip.

  Deciding not to make more out of Sam’s absence than necessary, she taught her lessons as usual. As she worked with the fourth-graders and Caleb Yoder, she couldn’t believe the difference in him. Since that second week when she’d started teaching here, he’d been so good and helpful. Maybe his older brother and sister had told on him and Bishop Yoder had corrected Caleb’s poor behavior. Whatever it was, Becca was grateful. Now, the school was quiet and orderly and she really thought she was making headway with the children.

  That afternoon, she set aside Sam’s work and waited until all the other children had left for the day. Then, she loaded her books into her buggy and drove over to Jesse’s farm to tutor Sam as usual. The day was cool but the sky was clear and the sun was shining. That was a good sign that spring was on its way.

  She parked beside Jesse’s house and knocked on the front door. Glancing at the flowerbeds, she noticed the tulips and daffodils had poked their heads out of the soil. The last church service had focused on Easter and the Savior’s resurrection, reminding her to carry hope within her heart. Another month and school would be out for the summer. But that thought caused a brief surge of panic to rise in Becca’s throat. The last day of school was on May first. One more month and she would have to leave or find work elsewhere. But where would she go? She’d been sending job inquiries to numerous Amish communities across the nation and received not one positive response. Her common sense told her to doubt the future but then she reminded herself to have faith.

  The door creaked open and Sam peered out at her with his big, dark eyes. When he saw her, he thrust open the door and threw himself at her in a tight hug.

  “Ach, hallo, Sam! I missed you at school today. Are you ill?” she asked, determined to be positive and act like he’d never run away. It must be a bit embarrassing to him and his father and it would serve no purpose in bringing it up again. After all, it really wasn’t her business.

  He released her and stood in the living room, looking down at his stockinged feet as he shook his head. Except for shoes, he was fully dressed but his hair was rumpled and he had holes in his woolen socks where his little toes poked through. No doubt Jesse didn’t have time to mend the socks for him. And once again, she was reminded with glaring clarity that this little boy badly needed a mother.

  “Then why didn’t you komm to school today?” she asked in a light tone.

  He just shrugged and stepped back so she had room to come inside.

  Becca set her bag on the floor, noticing a new sofa and coffee table perched in front of the wide window. They were drab brown and plain but appeared comfortable enough.

  “These are nice,” she said.

  Sam didn’t respond but she really didn’t expect him to.

  A Bible and some of Sam’s books sat on top of the table. Gas lights had been installed in each corner of the room. The added illumination brightened the room and even seemed more cheerful inside. Gradually, Jesse was creating a pleasant home to live in. He was trying to pick up the pieces of his life.

  So was she. But it wasn’t easy. For any of them. And that’s when she realized Jesse wasn’t the only one who had trust issues. So did she. Vernon’s betrayal had made her feel unacceptable, like she didn’t belong anywhere. As if she wasn’t worthy of love.

  Her hands trembled slightly as she reached inside her bag and pulled out the assignments Sam had missed that day. She would catch him up on that first, then proceed to his reading and coax him to answer her questions out loud. If he got it all done this afternoon, she would mark him down as attending school today and his attendance wouldn’t be marred by any absences. She wanted that for him so she could give him a special certificate at the end of the year, to help build his self-confidence.

  “Let’s start with our English, shall we?” she suggested.

  She set a McGuffey reader on the coffee table and scooted over on the new sofa to give Sam room to join her. She was pleased when he read several sentences out loud to her, though he still spoke in a soft whisper she
could barely hear. But it was great progress when she considered where they’d started a couple of months earlier.

  They had just finished their phonics and were starting on penmanship when she heard the back door open and close.

  “What are you doing here?”

  She looked up. Jesse stood in the kitchen doorway. His hair was slightly damp around his face and neck and she thought he must have washed up in the barn. The dust on his broadfall pants and shirt attested that he’d worked hard that day. He lifted a hand to brace against the doorjamb, looking genuinely surprised to see her here. Did he think she was so shallow that she’d stay away simply because they’d disagreed on the best way to handle Sam’s running away? If so, Jesse didn’t know her very well.

  “I came to tutor Sam, of course,” she said, feeling a bit offended by his question.

  He glanced at the books, his eyes crinkled in confusion. “I... I didn’t think you’d komm back after the argument we had.”

  He certainly was blunt, she’d give him that. He never seemed to hold anything back.

  She snorted. “Of course I would. Sam needs help. I would never punish him because you’re being so bull-headed.”

  She turned her attention back to Sam, thinking she shouldn’t have said that. But maybe it was something Jesse needed to hear. Handing Sam a pencil, she kept her head bowed and focused on the child’s work. He wrote several words on his big, ruled paper and she took every opportunity to praise him.

  “Very gut. Your letters are so legible. You’re getting better at writing every day,” she said.

  Sam showed a shy smile and wrote some more words. When she looked up again, Jesse was gone. She could hear him inside the kitchen, rattling pots around. No doubt he was scrounging up something for his and Sam’s supper.

  She thought of going to help. She knew Jesse wasn’t much of a cook. But no. He was Sam’s father. He needed to serve his son. It was his job to provide for the boy. And besides, he needed to learn that he couldn’t treat people rudely. Not if he expected to have any friends. It was better to leave him alone and let him come to these realizations on his own. But a part of her dearly wished she could be his friend too.

  * * *

  “Ach, it looks like you’ve got everything under control here. Whatever you’re cooking smells gut.”

  Jesse turned and found Becca standing in the kitchen doorway. She had already put on her heavy shawl, gloves and scarf...ready to leave. She sniffed the air and breathed a little sigh for emphasis. Her voice sounded jolly and she was smiling. He stared at her for several seconds, wishing she wasn’t so cheerful all the time. It made it harder not to like her.

  “Are you finished teaching Sam for the night?” he asked, turning back to the stove.

  He had just finished frying several ground beef patties without burning them and planned to cover them with hot cream of mushroom soup. It was called poor man’s steak and had been a staple from his childhood. A baked potato, string beans and canned pears would round out the meal. He even had whipped up some chocolate pudding for dessert. Sam would like that.

  “Ja, Sam does better every day,” she said. “He’s made a tremendous amount of progress. I’m even hopeful he’ll speak his part out loud for the end-of-year program. He’s told me he wants to. I just hope he isn’t too nervous when the time comes.”

  She stepped over to the stove and watched him whisk the mushroom gravy around in the meat drippings. He thought about inviting her to stay for supper but decided against it. For some reason, this woman made him feel nervous. He couldn’t think clearly when she was standing so near. Besides, they were both single and it was getting late. She needed to go home. Right now.

  Lifting the pan, he set it on a hot pad in the middle of the table. Alice would have poured it into a bowl with a ladle and made their meal as dignified as possible. But he didn’t have time for such nonsense. After supper, he must return to the barn. His road horse had thrown a shoe so he couldn’t take Sam to school that morning. He needed to use the animal out in the fields tomorrow, which meant the shoe must be replaced tonight. He really needed to buy some draft horses. Then he wouldn’t have to use his road horse in the fields.

  He reached for a dish towel to wipe his hands...a nervous gesture to give himself something to do. Again, he glanced at Becca, expecting her to leave. “Was there something else you needed?”

  She shook her head, meeting his gaze. “Ne, I just wanted to apologize for the harsh words I said to you a couple of days ago. I fear I’m too bold at times and may have caused offense and that wasn’t my intention.”

  “I’m sorry too.” He spoke the words before he could think to stop himself. Their argument had been on his mind since it happened and he wanted to clear the air.

  Her expression softened and she smiled. “Danke. I know you’re doing your best with Sam and you were worried about him that day. Fear can cause us to say things we don’t really mean. But you’re doing a really gut job with him.”

  Her insight impressed him. It was as if she could see deep inside of him and knew exactly what he was thinking. The only other person to do that had been Alice.

  “It’s kind of difficult for me to admit when I’m wrong,” he said. “I was raised by a rather stern vadder. He was always right even when he was wrong. He was a gut man but very stubborn. There was little laughter in my home when I was growing up. I’ve tried not to be that way. My wife taught me that apologies make us stronger. I didn’t mean to come across as unfeeling toward my sohn.”

  He spoke the words slowly, surprised at how painful it was for him to make the admission. Although his father had taught him a strong work ethic and how to farm, most of the memories from his youth were not pleasant. And he wasn’t sure why he was telling Becca this. She was way too easy to confide in. Too easy to be with. But he knew in his heart of hearts that he must apologize to her. He was trying so hard to start anew. For some reason, it was highly important to him not to have conflict with Sam’s teacher. Mostly because she’d been good to him and Sam and they owed her a debt of gratitude. But he sensed there was another reason too. Something he didn’t understand.

  “Ach, just because the horse bucks you off doesn’t mean you sell the horse,” she said. “The Savior taught us to have a soft heart filled with humility. And when we are filled with His love, we are quick to forgive. But it can still be a hard thing to do. For all of us.”

  Hmm. Again, her insight surprised him. Just like Alice, it seemed that Becca was teaching him some rather difficult lessons. Her patient reminder of the Savior helped him realize he could learn a lot from this good woman.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask, would you be willing to teach a fire safety class at school next week?” she asked suddenly.

  Jesse stared at her, his mouth dropping open in surprise. Because of his past, he wasn’t certain he felt up to the task. He couldn’t do it. Could he?

  “I... I’m not sure I’m the right person to do that,” he said, trying not to sound insecure.

  “Why not? You’re a certified firefighter. It must have taken a lot of study and effort to master that skill. You must be very gut at it. And it’s an interesting profession we can highlight for the kinder. You’re a gut example of a vadder who has reached out to help his community.”

  He didn’t know how to respond. He didn’t feel like a good father. How could he explain to this dedicated woman that he hadn’t been able to fight fire ever since he’d lost his wife and daughters? Even now, he hated to add kindling to the stove in his own home. Every time he saw the flames, he thought about losing Alice and their girls.

  “Do you feel reluctant because of how your familye died?” she asked, her voice achingly soft and gentle.

  Wow! She really did lay it out in the open, no mincing words. And yet, hearing his own thoughts spoken out loud made his fears seem a little less threatening.

  He du
cked his head, a hard lump forming in his throat. He hated to show any weakness to this woman and fought to regain control. When he felt her hand on his arm, he looked into her eyes. She stood so close, her face creased with compassion.

  “I know losing part of your familye must have been so difficult for you, Jesse. But for Sam’s sake and also your own, you have to go on living. From what I’ve heard at church, you were gut at fighting fires. Who better to teach the scholars about fire safety? The people of our Gmay could really benefit from your skill too. I hope you’ll think about it. You can let me know your decision tomorrow morning, when you bring Sam to school.”

  She turned and walked toward the back door, the heels of her practical black shoes tap-tapping against the wooden floor. He didn’t turn to watch her leave but he heard the door close behind her.

  Teach fire safety at school?

  He couldn’t do it. And yet, Becca’s gentle encouragement made him feel like he could do anything. But surely not that. Then again, it had been over a year since the house fire. He used to love fighting fires. Used to love helping people save their homes and businesses. Until he’d lost his wife and daughters, he’d felt like he was doing something good for his community. That he was helping his Amish people save their houses and barns too. Maybe it was time to put aside his grief and take it up again. Maybe...

  But what if he did something wrong? What if he panicked and made a mistake? He couldn’t stand the thought of losing someone else on his watch. Especially someone he cared deeply about.

  Becca thought he could do it. She seemed to really believe in him. She was counting on him. And it felt so good to be needed again. So good to have someone in his life that he could talk to about Sam and all that he had lost. Maybe he should think about it a little more.

  Chapter Eleven