Patricia Davids - His Amish Teacher

Timothy came back and carried a pair of sawhorses past her without comment. He set them in the back of the wagon. It was clear he was upset with her and that wasn’t like Timothy.

“I’m sorry if I offended you,” she said.

“You have.” He brushed past her to pick up the last of the boards and carried them to the wagon, too. He threw them in and they clattered loudly. The horses shifted uneasily at the noise but quickly settled at a low word from him.

Lillian took a step closer. “I’m only looking out for your best interests. Your behavior could be seen as forward and unacceptable. I’m sorry if pointing that out makes you angry.”

He leaned a hip against the wagon and folded his arms over his chest as he fixed his gaze on her face. “That you judge my behavior to be forward and unacceptable is what makes me angry. I thought you knew me well enough to know I wouldn’t flirt with any woman, let alone someone who didn’t share our faith.”

She clutched her arms tight across her chest. “I do know that.”

“Then why accuse me of it?”

She stared at her feet and tried to put her feelings into words. “You smiled at her.”

“I smile at everyone.”

“I know, but she smiled back. I saw that look in her eyes.”

“What are you talking about? What look?”

Lillian glanced at his handsome face. “The look that said she was interested in getting to know you better. A lot better.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “I’m not responsible for the way someone looks at me.”

“I saw the attraction between the two of you. Such feelings can lead you down a forbidden path.”

He threw his hands in the air. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this. I had no idea you thought I was so weak-minded.”

“I don’t.” The last thing she wanted was for him to be angry with her.

“Your words say otherwise, Lillian.”

He climbed in his wagon. With a slap of the reins, he headed his horses down the road, leaving her to watch his rapidly retreating figure and regret her ill-advised comments. They’d never had a disagreement, let alone an argument like this.

Had she damaged their friendship beyond repair?

Chapter Three

Drawing a deep calming breath, Lillian returned to the schoolroom determined to be pleasant to Miss Merrick. She would apologize to Timothy soon. Perhaps she could think of an excuse to visit the Bowman household after school tonight and find a way to speak to Timothy alone. And then again, maybe she was being foolish. Their friendship was surely strong enough to weather one disagreement. Wasn’t it? She didn’t need to run after him and beg his forgiveness.

Inside the school, she helped Debra set up the eye charts. Together, they taped off the correct distance on the floor where the children were to stand. Suddenly, the outside door burst open, and Lillian’s little sister Amanda raced in.

Spying Lillian, the four-year-old dashed across the room and threw her arms around Lillian’s legs. “Shveshtah, I koom to visit you at schule. Teach me something?”

Tiny for her age, Amanda had been born with dwarfism. Her arms and legs were short, but her body was near normal in size. Her blond hair was fine and straight as wheat straw with wisps of it peeking from beneath her white kapp.

Lillian scooped the child up in her arms and settled her at her hip. “The first thing my scholars learn is to be quiet in the classroom. No shouting. No running.”

Amanda’s smile faded. “I was bad, wasn’t I?”

Lillian nodded. “A little.”

The outside door opened again and Lillian’s father, Eldon Keim, came in, his face set in stern lines. Something must be wrong.

Miss Merrick gave Amanda a bright smile. “Is this your daughter?”

“Amanda is my sister.” Lillian introduced her father to Miss Merrick.

“I’m very pleased to meet you, Mr. Keim, and you, Amanda.” Debra held out her hand to the child.

Amanda shyly shook it.

Debra’s smile widened. “I have a brother who is a little person. His name is Brandon. He has cartilage-hair hypoplasia.”

A rush of empathy caused Lillian to look kindly at Debra. Here was someone who understood the challenging life her little sister faced. “That is exactly what Amanda has.”

“I mentioned my family has Amish ancestors. I’m sure you know CCH is one of the more common types of dwarfism among the Amish. I wish Brandon could meet Amanda. He loves children, especially little-people children. He and his wife have adopted two children with dwarfism. He’s a professor of agriculture at Ohio Central University. I know that sounds like a stuffy job, but he’s not a bit stuffy.”

Her father spoke quietly in Pennsylvania Dutch. “I’m going into town. Your mother said you needed something.”

“Ja, I have two library books that are due back today. Can you drop them off for me?” It would save her a long walk this evening. Bless her mother for thinking of it.

“Fetch them quickly.”

She put Amanda down, hurried to her desk and returned with both volumes. “Danki.”

He scanned the titles and frowned. “Are these proper reading for an Amish woman?”

Lillian was glad he’d kept the conversation in Pennsylvania Deitsch. It stung that he didn’t trust her judgment, but as a minister of the church, he had to make sure his family obeyed the Ordnung, the rules of the church. The books were teaching guides for elementary science, a subject she struggled to understand and teach. “They were recommended to me at the last teachers’ conference I attended. What’s wrong, Daed?”

He tucked the books under his arm. “I received a letter today from my sister in Wisconsin. My onkel Albert is gravely ill and wishes to see me. We are leaving tonight. I must speak with the bishop and let him know I won’t be preaching with him on Sunday.”

“I’m so sorry. Is Amanda going with you?”

“Nee, your mother and I think it best she stay at home with you and Jeremiah. Can she spend the rest of the afternoon with you today?”

Lillian winked at Amanda. “She isn’t old enough to start school.”

“If it is a problem, she can come with me to the bishop’s home,” he said.

Amanda’s eyes widened, and she shook her head. The bishop was a kindly man, but his stern countenance and booming voice had frightened the child once and she remained leery of him.

Planting her hands on her hips, Lillian pretended to consider the situation, then finally nodded and smiled. “Ja, she can stay with me.”

After her father left, Debra took a tentative step closer. “Is something wrong?”

Realizing Debra hadn’t understood their exchange, Lillian explained. “My father has been called to his uncle’s deathbed in Wisconsin. He and my mother must make arrangements to travel there as soon as possible.”

“They can’t go that far by horse and buggy, can they?”

“They will hire a driver to take them. We are not allowed to own cars, but we are not forbidden to ride in them. Many local people earn extra money by driving their Amish neighbors when there is a need.”

“I see. I’m sorry your father’s uncle is so ill.” Debra laid a hand on Lillian’s shoulder. Lillian was surprised by the sincere sympathy in her eyes.

“He has lived a long full life.” Lillian recalled with fondness her great-uncle’s gnarled hands and his toothless grin. He kept a tall glass jar by his chair and he always had a licorice twist to share with her and his many grandchildren and great-grandchildren. It was sad to think of his passing, but she knew he was ready to go home.

Debra stepped back. “I should get to work. Will the children have trouble understanding me? I know you speak a different language.”