Healing Their Amish Hearts Read online

  Lifting the book of matches, he pulled one from the packet and scraped it across the coarse striking area. A little whoosh sounded as the match lit with fire. A commotion came from behind him and he turned, the match going out.

  Sam stood there, his eyes wide with terror, his face contorted in absolute anguish. He had backed up, knocking into two of the older kids. What was wrong with him?

  “Sam?” Jesse called.

  Had lighting a single match frightened his son? It shouldn’t. But even Jesse felt a slight tremor in his arms and legs. Though he started all the fires at his house, he still disliked the chore. And then it dawned on him that Sam was never in the room with him when he started fires at home. Although the child brought in plenty of wood and kindling, he was always absent until the fire was going and the door to the stove was shut.

  A small cry escaped Sam’s throat. Without explanation, the boy whirled around and pushed through the wall of students. When he finally made his way out into the open area of the classroom, he raced toward the exit. Throwing the door open wide, he ran out into the schoolyard.

  Jesse stood, his lesson on fire safety all but forgotten. He was about to run after his son but Becca held out a hand.

  “I’ll go after him. Please, continue your demonstration,” she said.

  He blinked in confusion as she hurried after his son. She closed the door behind her. Out of the wide windows surrounding the room, he saw a flash of her skirts as she ran behind the building.

  A sniffle brought his attention back to the students. They stared at him in confusion, their eyes wide with worry.

  “Is Sam gonna be allrecht, Mr. King?” little Andy Yoder asked.

  Jesse showed a confident smile he didn’t feel. “Ja, he’ll be fine. Don’t worry. Now, let’s continue with our lesson.”

  He put his thoughts on involuntary reflex, discussing the fire extinguishers he’d brought and how the children should aim them at the base of the flame. Then, he taught them how to recognize the exits of a building and escape a burning room in orderly fashion rather than panicking and trampling one another underfoot. He had them each get down low to the floor where they could breathe fresh air when smoke filled the room so they could crawl toward the exit. Then, he took them outside to teach them how to properly dispose of the ashes from their fires.

  Out in the schoolyard, he looked around for some sign of Becca and Sam. He saw them some distance away, sitting on the banks of the creek that meandered past the bishop’s property. Hearing his voice, they stood and Becca held Sam’s hand as the two of them rejoined the group of students. Sam’s eyes were red from crying and he wouldn’t meet Jesse’s eyes. Instead, the boy stared at the ground. An overwhelming urge to take his little boy into his arms and comfort him swept over Jesse. In the past, he would have resisted. But not now. Not today. Becca had taught Jesse to have more compassion. He didn’t need to be as stern as his father had been with him.

  Interrupting his lecture, he swept his son into his arms and hugged him tight, whispering in his ear for his hearing alone.

  “It’s going to be okay, sohn. I love you,” Jesse said.

  Hearing his words, Sam softened in his arms. Jesse set the boy back on his feet next to Becca. She nodded her approval as he returned to his lesson. His heart felt a bit lighter and he knew he’d done the right thing by showing some affection toward Sam. If nothing else, it showed the boy that he wasn’t angry with him.

  “If there’s a fire in the schoolhouse, do you have an assigned place to gather outside so your teacher can count you and know that everyone got out safely?” he asked the group.

  The children gazed at him with blank expressions.

  “Ne, but we will assign a place right now,” Becca said. “What about right here where we are standing in the middle of the play area?”

  Jesse shook his head, a feeling of gratitude filling his heart. Though he pretended to act normal, he was beyond grateful to Becca for helping him with Sam.

  “This isn’t a gut place. It’s too close to the schoolhouse. I suggest you meet over here, far away from any potentially burning structures.” He walked over to the baseball diamond and stood on the home plate.

  “Ja, I see what you mean. This is an open area, far away from any buildings, where we can easily be seen,” Becca said.

  “Ach, so where will you meet outside if the school is ever on fire?” he asked the students in a booming voice.

  “Here!” they responded in unison.

  “Very gut. Now, one last lesson and then I’ll leave you for the day. I want to discuss the proper way to dispose of the ashes from your stove,” he said.

  As they walked behind the schoolhouse to a safe fire circle that had been set up specifically for this task, he showed them how to stir the ashes around with a bit of water but not bury them since that would bank the heat inside and keep the fire alive. He taught them how to feel carefully with the back of their hands to ensure no warmth came from the ashes. And only then could they be assured that there were no live coals that could spring to life and be carried by the wind to start a wildfire burning. And by the time he had finished the training, he was no longer shaking. Sam was smiling again too.

  “Scholars, what do you say to Mr. King?” Becca asked the students when Jesse had finished his lecture.

  They all smiled and responded together. “Danke, Mr. King.”

  He nodded, feeling relieved to have this chore finished. “Gaern gscheh.”

  “Scholars, please return to the classroom and prepare for reading time. I’m going to have a private word with Mr. King and will come inside in just a few minutes,” she said.

  A couple of snickers from the students accompanied her comment and she looked to see who it came from. But all the students looked completely innocent as they turned and walked back to the schoolhouse.

  “Danke again for your very thorough lesson,” she said.

  She accompanied him to his horse and buggy. He felt drained of emotion for some reason and thought it must be because he’d faced a fear that had been haunting him for months now.

  “Do you think Sam will be all right?” she asked. “He wouldn’t tell me what was wrong.”

  “Ja, he’ll be fine. I’ll spend extra time with him this evening. I... I better let you get back to your school,” he said. His emotions swirled around inside of him in a mass of confusion. He felt better but he also felt worse at the same time. He didn’t need to ask Sam what was wrong to understand what the boy was feeling.

  “Ja, I better get back.” She stepped away, her lips and cheeks a pretty shade of pink.

  “I’ll see you later this afternoon when you come to tutor Sam.” He spoke as he stepped into the buggy.

  She didn’t speak but merely waved. Then, she took off at a slight jog toward the schoolhouse.

  He watched her go, thinking today was completely unexpected. When he’d arrived here this morning, he hadn’t expected Sam’s actions or his own response to the fire safety class. His feelings were a riot of unease. Becca probably thought he was crazy. He wished he could open his heart and let her in. But there was still one glaring problem. She wasn’t Alice. And she never would be.

  Chapter Twelve

  The day of the box social arrived too soon. When Becca had first moved to Riverton, the school board had asked her to schedule the event as a fund-raiser so they could buy a teeter-totter and other playground equipment. It wasn’t difficult. Just a few announcements made at church and some reminders sent home with the children. The bishop had agreed to let her borrow the benches and tables used by the congregation and the members of the Gmay provided the labor to set them up. She just hoped it was a success.

  “It’s a beautiful day for the social.” Hannah Schwartz handed a roll of masking tape to Becca.

  She glanced at the azure sky, grateful they wouldn’t be rained out. “Ja, we
couldn’t ask for more.”

  She pulled off a piece of tape and spread it across the corner of the plastic tablecloth to hold it down so the wind wouldn’t blow it off. Standing in the schoolyard, she gazed at the other folding tables and chairs they had set up earlier that morning. It was Saturday afternoon and they were almost ready to begin. With the sun shining, they were sure to have a good turnout. But she couldn’t help feeling a bit melancholy. Even if they earned enough funds for the playground equipment today, she’d never get to see it. With just two weeks of school left, she’d soon be cleaning out the classroom and packing her things for her trip back home to Ohio. Hopefully, she’d have a glowing letter of recommendation in her purse. She must have faith that Gott had her best interests at heart and would guide her through life.

  Deciding not to wallow in self-pity, she turned and picked up a stack of bread baskets. They also belonged to the Gmay. Since they held so many social events, the investment was well worth it.

  Abby, Aunt Naomi, Sarah Yoder and Linda Hostetler were setting out vases of tulips and daffodils picked from their own yards as centerpieces for each table. Bishop Yoder and Darrin Albrecht were unloading a propane barbecue off the back of a wagon. Their teenaged sons helped lift the heavy weight. Since bidding was usually reserved for the adults and older teenagers, each familye had been instructed to bring side dishes and desserts to feed their children. More people were arriving, hurrying to lend a hand as they prepared for the fun occasion.

  “How does the box table look?”

  Becca turned and found Lizzie and Eli Stoltzfus standing behind her. The couple was newly married and Lizzie was just far enough along in her first pregnancy that she was glowing with happiness.

  Eli pointed to the table they’d set up for displaying the boxed suppers. The women and some of the girls of the Gmay had each decorated a cardboard box with newspaper and tulips and filled it with a dinner for two. Except for the size of each box, they looked almost identical. Later, the men would bid on the boxes in anticipation of eating a meal with one of their womenfolk. Generally the boxes were kept anonymous, so the men wouldn’t know whose they were bidding on. But sometimes, people dropped hints in order to rig the bidding so the single couples could eat together. At least, that was their hope.

  For just a moment, Becca wished Jesse might buy her box. But she pushed that thought aside. His heart belonged to a dead woman and that was that.

  A white cloth had been spread across the box table and Lizzie had pinned yellow and red tulips and daffodils along the edge to give it a special flair. They had already set the boxed dinners strategically on the table, to catch the eyes of the male bidders. Becca could see her own box sitting toward the back, decorated with sheets of newspaper and two red tulips affixed on top.

  “Ach, the table looks beautiful!” Becca exclaimed.

  “How about if we have the bidding on the boxes first? Then I can fire up the grill to cook for the kinder and other people who won’t be bidding on a box.” Bishop Yoder spoke from nearby.

  “That sounds great. I’ll leave that to you,” Becca said.

  Though she’d never seen him in action, she’d been told the bishop was a good auctioneer. And she was happy to coordinate everything and let him handle the business end of the occasion.

  At that moment, Jesse and Sam’s buggy pulled into the yard. Becca’s senses went on high alert. She returned Sam’s energetic wave but forced herself not to run over to greet them. She didn’t want to look too forward. Not with almost everyone in the Gmay watching.

  Children raced past and adults laughed together as everyone arrived in time for the bidding. Becca kept herself busy laying out stacks of paper plates, cups and napkins. She had no idea who would bid on her basket and hoped they liked fried chicken.

  “Everyone! Gather round and we’ll have a blessing on the food. Then, we’ll start the bidding.” Standing on a raised wooden platform, the bishop waved his arms and spoke in a booming voice to get everyone’s attention.

  The people stepped forward in anticipation. Some of the teenaged boys eyed the decorated boxes, bending their heads together and pointing as they speculated on who had made them. Glancing up, Becca saw Abby chatting with Jesse as she bounced little Chrissie on her hip.

  Hmm. Abby wouldn’t tell him which box belonged to her, would she? Both Abby and Aunt Naomi had been in the kitchen when Becca had packed and decorated her box, so they definitely knew which one was hers.

  They bowed their heads and blessed the food. Then, the bishop called to the crowd.

  “And we have our first box to bid on,” he said.

  Jeremiah Beiler picked up a rather plain cardboard box decorated with a single red-and-yellow parrot tulip. As he lifted the box for everyone to inspect, he sniffed the lid.

  “Hmm, something smells good inside. Some meat loaf and apple pie, would be my guess,” he said.

  Dawdi Zeke bumped Dale Yoder with his shoulder and waggled his bushy gray eyebrows at the boy. “You should bid on it, sohn. It might belong to that pretty little Lenore you’re so keen on.”

  The crowd laughed and Dale’s face flamed bright red. Everyone knew he was crazy about Lenore Schwartz. In fact, they all expected the two to marry once they were old enough.

  “That’s not mine. I made ham sandwiches, macaroni salad and doughnuts. Mine’s the one on the end with the three red tulips,” Lenore said.

  The group laughed harder. No doubt Lenore was petrified Dale might bid on the wrong box. Or worse yet, someone else might bid on her box and she’d have to eat supper with them.

  “Who’ll give me five dollars for this box? It smells real nice,” Bishop Yoder called.

  One of the fathers raised his hand.

  Bishop Yoder pointed at the man and the bidding began. “I’ve got five dollars, who’ll give me ten?”

  Another hand went up. The bishop got into the groove of the auction, his voice firing off in rapid succession. And just like that, Becca realized this event had been a smart idea. Within two minutes, the first box had sold for thirty-five dollars.

  Will Lapp won the box. As Minister Beiler took his money and held the box out to him, little twelve-year-old Emily Hostetler stepped forward to claim ownership. Since she was so young, Will’s wife, Ruth, joined them. And once Ruth’s box was sold to old Dawdi Zeke, the group made it a foursome so there would be no perceived impropriety as they ate together.

  The bidding continued and Becca soon realized they would indeed have enough funds to purchase the teeter-totter. She hoped they would make enough to also buy some new baseball equipment and bouncy balls for the playground. If they did really well, they might even be able to install a couple of swings. She couldn’t be happier and counted the day as a great success.

  “Ach, this box smells like fried chicken,” Jeremiah called, sniffing the rim of the lid with relish.

  Realizing the box belonged to her, Becca’s face heated up in spite of her desire to remain incognito.

  “Who’ll give me ten dollars for this box?” Bishop Yoder called.

  Ben Yoder, the bishop’s shy nephew from Iowa, held up his hand. With a rather quiet, retiring nature, Ben was large for an Amish man. He stood at six feet four inches tall and weighed about a hundred and ninety pounds, all of it lean muscle. His shoulders were wide as a broom handle and his hands were huge and strong. A lot of rumors followed his name. Bishop Yoder called him Gentle Ben but Becca had heard he’d had trouble with fighting in Iowa and had even killed a man in self-defense, which was why he’d relocated here to Colorado. It seemed that many of their people were trying to escape a shadowed past. With so many members of their Gmay around, she was willing to eat supper with him but had no romantic inclinations toward him whatsoever.

  “I’ve got ten dollars. Who will give me twenty?” Bishop Yoder shouted at the crowd.

  Becca saw Jesse King lift his hand in the
air. His expression was stoic, his eyes unblinking as he gazed steadily at the bishop. As if in slow motion, Becca watched as the bidding bounced back and forth between Jesse and Ben until, finally, Jesse won her box for a price even she could never have anticipated. Did he know that it was her box? Had Abby told him? Or was it just a coincidence? Becca had no idea.

  She stared, her mouth dropping open in absolute surprise. On the one hand, she was delighted that Jesse would pay so much for her box. But on the other hand, she was mortified at the outlandish amount of money.

  “Sold! To Jesse King for seventy-five dollars,” the bishop cried.

  A low murmur of awe swept over the crowd. Everyone recognized what a high price he’d paid. A subtle flicker of a smile curved Jesse’s lips upward as he stepped over to receive his box. Becca didn’t move. She didn’t breathe. Her feet felt as if they’d been nailed to the ground. Finally, Aunt Naomi gave her a slight push forward and she took several steps.

  A titter of chatter filled the air as everyone discussed this turn of events. No doubt the entire Gmay would be thinking she and Jesse were an item. That they were sweet on each other. And they weren’t. But people wouldn’t know that. Jesse wasn’t interested in her. Or anyone else, for that matter. That thought brought an aching pain to Becca’s heart. And that’s the moment she realized she loved him. Heaven help her, she truly did. Somehow, during the past months she’d been working with Sam and Jesse, she’d fallen in love with both of them. Not just the love from serving other people, but a lasting feeling that made her want to be with them always. To take care of them and be a part of their life forever. Jesse might not think twice about her. Her box was filled with food that was quickly consumed and enjoyed but then forgotten. But for Becca, she couldn’t think about anything but him.

  “I guess I bought your supper.” Jesse spoke low when Jeremiah handed him the box.

  She looked at him, feeling trembly and confused by her new realization. She stared up into his eyes, not knowing what to say. She only knew she loved this man and his little boy. Every time she was near him, she felt twitter-pated. And when they were parted, she could think of nothing but seeing him again. Her heart went out to him and Sam, for the pain and sadness they’d been through. She longed to make them happy. To see them both smile and hear their laughter again and again. Over time, the sting of Vernon’s betrayal had eased and she realized she’d never really loved him. Not like what she felt for Jesse. Not the romantic love a woman should have for a man she wanted to marry. Now that she’d had some time away from Vernon to think clearly, she realized her love for her ex-fiancé was simply a habit built up over years of being good friends. But what she felt for Jesse was so much more. An overflowing desire to be with him and make good things happen in his life.