Amish Triplets for Christmas Page 3

  “They’d better not make too much noise,” he warned crossly before retiring for the evening.

  Hannah had to bite her tongue to keep from retorting, “But, Groossdaadi, how would you know if they did?” Having grown up under his thumb, she understood what he’d meant: he wouldn’t permit them to make nuisances of themselves.

  She threw her arms around his neck and looked him in the eye. “I will see to it they don’t,” she promised.

  “Bah,” he muttered, but he didn’t pull away from her embrace until she let him go.

  * * *

  On the way home, when Sawyer asked the children how their first day at school was, they all spoke at once.

  “We made friends with some other boys,” Samuel said.

  “Eli and Caleb. They said they have a German shepherd, and it had six puppies,” Simon announced. “Can we have a puppy, Daed?”

  “It’s ‘may we.’ Teacher says we’re supposed to say ‘may I,’ not ‘can I.’ A can is something you store food in,” Sarah corrected him. “I made a new friend, too, Daed. Her name is Abigail, but she said I can call her—I may call her—Abby.”

  Distracting the children from their request for a puppy—Gertrude was allergic—Sawyer commented, “It sounds as if you’ve already learned something from your teacher, too?”

  “Jah,” Samuel agreed. “We learned how to bat a ball after lunch hour! The teacher can hit it farther than anyone else, even the boys from the upper classes!”

  “And she fixed my hair, see?” Sarah twisted in her seat to show him where her hair was neatly tucked into a bun. “It didn’t hurt a bit, even the snarled parts. The teacher said her mamm taught her how to brush them out when she was a girl my age. Her hair is dark like a crow’s and wavy, but mine is light like hay and straight, but she said her secret brushing method works on all colors of hair and all sizes of tangles.”

  As minor of a matter as grooming was, even Gertrude complained about how much Sarah always wiggled when she was combing her hair. During Gertrude’s absence, Sawyer often had to refrain from using a harsh tone to make Sarah sit still. The small but important empathy Hannah demonstrated to his daughter by carefully fixing her bun seemed like a promising indicator of the care she’d provide as their nanny.

  After they arrived home, the children helped with chores around the farm: Sarah swept the floors and sorted and washed vegetables, and the boys cleaned the chicken coop, stacked firewood and helped in the stable. Their chores in Ohio were similar, but because they lived on a modest plot of land in a neighborhood instead of in a large farmhouse on sizable acreage, their new assignments in Pennsylvania took them much longer to complete. Simon and Samuel usually had boundless energy, but by supper time, they were too weary to lift their chins from their chests at the table.

  “Try a second helping of beef stew,” Sawyer urged them.

  “I’m too tired to chew,” Samuel protested.

  Simon asked, “May we go to bed?”

  “Look,” Sawyer pointed out. “Onkel bought special apple fry pies from Yoder’s Bakery in town. You may have one if you eat a little more meat.”

  “Denki, Onkel. That was very thoughtful of you,” Sarah said, imitating a phrase Sawyer knew she’d learned from Gertrude. “But I couldn’t eat another bite.”

  “No promises the pies will be here tomorrow,” Sawyer’s cousin Phillip warned.

  “We survived for five years without our mamm here to cook for us,” Jonas, Sawyer’s other cousin, scoffed. “You shouldn’t coddle them, Sawyer, particularly the boys.”

  Sawyer got the feeling Jonas resented the children’s presence, but he couldn’t fault Simon, Samuel and Sarah for being too tired to eat; he, too, was exhausted from the day’s events.

  Still, he didn’t believe in wasting food, and when Simon chased a chunk of beef around his bowl with his spoon, Sawyer directed, “Sit up and eat your meal. Waste not, want not, as your mamm always said.”

  “I’m not hungry.” The boy sighed.

  Sawyer warned, “You need to eat so you can do well in school tomorrow.”

  “He’ll just ask the teacher for a piece of sweet bread instead,” Sarah said. “Like she gave him today.”

  “Sarah, it’s not kind to tattle,” Samuel reminded her. “Besides, the teacher gave us all a piece of bread.”

  “Jah, but she gave Simon an extra piece in the afternoon,” Sarah reported. “The very last piece, smothered in strawberry preserves. Teacher says strawberries taste like pink sunshine.”

  “Sweets in the afternoon before supper,” Jonas scoffed. “No wonder they turn up their noses at meat and potatoes. Pass me his serving. My appetite hasn’t been spoiled and neither have I.”

  Simon ducked his head as he handed over his bowl. He had a small freckle on the top of his left earlobe, whereas Samuel had none. It was how Sawyer could tell the two boys apart when they were infants. Watching Simon’s ears purpling with shame, Sawyer felt a small qualm about Hannah. Well-intentioned as the gesture may have been, Sawyer wondered if it represented her common practice. He couldn’t allow her to continue to ply the children with sweets instead of wholesome meals if he expected them to grow healthier under her care, and he decided to speak to her about it when he saw her next.

  * * *

  After supper, Hannah’s grandfather retired to his room to read Scripture as she washed the dishes and swept the floors. She folded the linens she had hung out to dry that morning before leaving for school. As she was putting them away, she passed the room that used to be Eve’s. Spread on the bed was one of the quilts her younger sister had made. Although it was darker and plainer than those she fashioned to sell to tourists, there was no mistaking her meticulous stitching and patterns.

  Hannah had never developed the superior sewing abilities Eve possessed. As the eldest, she was tasked with putting supper on the table, gardening, caring for Eve and meeting her grandfather’s needs. Not that she minded; she felt indebted to her grandfather for raising her and Eve, and she knew the Lord provided everyone with different talents. She admired her sister’s handiwork a moment longer before closing the bedroom door with a sigh. How Hannah missed Eve’s chatter ever since she moved to Lancaster to set up house with her husband last year.

  But at least now that Hannah would be watching the Plank children and she had lessons to plan and students’ work to review, the evenings wouldn’t seem to last forever, as they did during the summer months.

  Kneeling by her bed, she prayed, Denki, Lord, for Your providing for Groossdaadi and me, as You have always done. Please help me to be a gut nanny to Sarah, Simon and Samuel.

  She removed her prayer kapp and hung it on her headboard before sliding between the sheets. A loud rumble of thunder caused her nightstand to vibrate, and she closed her eyes before lightning illuminated the room. No matter how hard she tried to push the memory from her mind, the metallic smell in the air always brought her back to the night her mother and father perished when lightning struck the tree under which they’d sought shelter during a rainstorm. She had been such a young girl when it happened that the memory of the storm itself was more vivid than almost any recollection she had of her parents prior to their deaths.

  She rolled onto her side and buried her face in the pillow, much like Sarah had buried her face in Hannah’s sleeve when Sawyer failed to show up on time. Hannah wondered if Sarah was insecure because Sawyer was an unreliable parent or merely because she was anxious about being a newcomer. The boys seemed to be more outgoing than their sister was. They adjusted to their lessons magnificently and joined the games during lunch hour. But Sarah seemed uncertain, trying to say and do everything perfectly and in constant need of reassurance from Hannah. She supposed the girl might have been feeling at a loss without any other females on the farm, and she decided to do her best to serve as a role model for her.

>   Raindrops riveted the windowpane, and although the air was sultry, Hannah pulled the quilt over her head, mussing her hair. She recalled how Sarah’s bun had come undone during lunch hour. Hannah giggled, imagining Sawyer struggling to pin his daughter’s hair in place. Then, as she thought of his large, masculine hands, a shiver tickled her spine. The suddenness of it surprised her, but she attributed it to the change in air temperature.

  Before drifting off, she anticipated showing the children the shortcut home from school and studying insects and birds along the way. She imagined teaching Sarah how to make sweet bread and chasing squirrels with Samuel and Simon. They would grow sturdy from her meals and smart from her tutelage. She would sing hymns and read stories to them on rainy afternoons. It would be like teaching, only different: it would be, she supposed, more like being a mother than she’d ever been. Now that she actually had the opportunity, she had to admit, she could hardly wait!

  * * *

  Sawyer felt as if a huge burden had been lifted from his shoulders. As he knelt beside his bed, he prayed, Thank You, Lord, for Hannah’s willingness to care for the kinner. Please work in her groossdaadi’s heart to agree to it, as well. Bless Kathryn and her family, especially the baby, and keep watch over Gertrude. Please keep the crew safe and productive in Ohio.

  Praying about his employees, Sawyer exhaled loudly. Upon returning to the farm that afternoon, he had discovered a soggy express-mail letter in the box from his foreman reporting that one of his crew members severed his finger the day Sawyer left for Pennsylvania. Due to being short staffed already, we are falling even further behind on orders, the note said. It was another urgent reminder to Sawyer that he needed to hasten his work with his cousins so he could return home as soon as possible. At least being able to work longer days without interruptions would help with that.

  He was relieved that Hannah, in particular, possibly would be watching the children. He owed her a debt of gratitude for rescuing him from Doris’s clutches. He had known women like Doris in Ohio, who seemed to use the children’s welfare as an excuse to call on him and Gertrude. At least, that was what Gertrude had claimed on a few occasions.

  “I thought you wanted me to marry again,” he teased one afternoon after Gertrude was irked by a female visitor who stopped by with a heaping tray of oatmeal whoopee pie cookies and an entire “sawdust pie.” (When the woman found out Sawyer wasn’t present, she took the sweets home without allowing the children or Gertrude to sample so much as a bite.)

  “I do want you to marry again,” Gertrude insisted. “But I want you to marry someone genuine, like Eliza.”

  There will never be anyone as genuine as Eliza, he thought.

  Take Hannah, for instance. Whereas Eliza was soft-spoken and reserved, Hannah seemed a bit cheeky, which made it difficult to discern how sincere she was. Sawyer supposed Hannah was used to teasing men for sport; someone as becoming as she was no doubt found favor with the opposite gender, especially because she appeared competent and helpful, as well. Yet, surprisingly, she was unmarried—Sawyer ruefully imagined her suitors probably were tardy arriving to court her, so she turned them away.

  Lightning reflected off the white sheets on Sawyer’s bed and thunder shook the walls. He stretched his neck, listening for Sarah’s cries, but there were none. He figured she was too exhausted to stir.

  Sawyer’s thoughts drifted to the dark tendrils framing Hannah’s face that afternoon. They had probably come loose when she was playing ball with her students. He supposed someone who earned the affection of his daughter and the admiration of his sons in one day deserved his high regard, too. It wasn’t her fault she was so pretty; he recognized he shouldn’t judge her for that.

  He remembered how Hannah suddenly hurried him out the door that afternoon. Despite her authority in the classroom and her outspoken joshing, there was something unmistakably vulnerable in her eyes. But he had no doubt she’d take excellent care of Simon, Samuel and Sarah—especially once he restricted the amount of treats she served them—for the short time they were visiting Pennsylvania.

  As the sky released its torrents, Sawyer’s contented sigh turned into a yawn and he rolled onto his side. He slumbered through the night, waking only once when he had a dream of bread smothered in strawberry jam that was so real, he almost thought he could taste its sweetness on his lips.

  * * *

  The next morning, Hannah rose early to prepare a hearty breakfast for her grandfather, and she set aside an ample lunch, too. If Sawyer Plank was tardy again after school, she didn’t want her grandfather to accuse her of neglecting his appetite. She ate only a small portion herself in order to stretch their food budget, but she took the bread crusts with her. At lunch, she’d spread them with the preserves Abigail had given her, an indulgent treat these days.

  She scuttled the mile and a half to the school yard from her home. Built on the corner of the Zook farm, the tiny house and plot of land were all her grandfather had ever been able to afford. But Jeremiah Zook had always granted Hannah and Eve access to the rolling meadow, thriving stream and dense copse of trees on the south side of the property. The setting provided the young sisters a serene and spacious haven from their grandfather’s unrelenting demands.

  As an adult, Hannah still chose to zigzag across the acreage on her way to and from school instead of taking the main roads. She always felt she could breathe deeper and think more clearly after strolling the grassy and wooded paths she knew by heart.

  The weather was still unseasonably warm, and her upper lip beaded with perspiration as she picked her way across the final damp field. From a distance, she could see a single buggy in the lane by the school, which was strange since Doris was usually the last to arrive and the first to leave. As she drew nearer, she spotted three familiar blond heads, bobbing in and out from behind the trees during a game of tag. Sawyer was perched on the steps.

  “Guder mariye,” she greeted him, before adding, “Your horse’s legs must have healed. You’re early.”

  A peculiar look passed across Sawyer’s face, and Hannah immediately regretted her comment. She had meant it to be playful, not vexing. There was something so solemn about his demeanor she couldn’t help but try to elicit a little levity.

  “If we’re too early, I will wait with the kinner until you’re ready for them to come inside,” he replied seriously.

  “Neh, you mustn’t do that,” she said by way of apology, but then recognized it seemed as if she were dismissing him from the yard. She quickly explained, “You are free to leave the kinner or to stay with them as long as you wish. You’re free to stay with them outside, that is—not in the classroom. Unless you also need help with your spelling or mathematics.”

  There she went again! Insulting him when she only meant to break the ice. This time, however, a smile played at the corner of his lips.

  “My spelling and mathematics are strong,” he said. “It’s only my time-telling that suffers.”

  “Your time-telling is already improving,” Hannah said generously. “I notice you’re working on your daughter’s grooming skills, as well. I don’t mean to intrude on your efforts, but if Sarah’s hair should need additional straightening, would you allow me to complete the task?”

  “Allow you? I would wilkom you,” he insisted. “It’s no intrusion. Especially if you are to become the kinner’s nanny.”

  His enthusiasm delighted Hannah, who tipped her head upward to meet his eyes. “I’m glad you mentioned that,” she trilled. “Because my groossdaadi has agreed that I may watch the kinner after school, beginning Monday.”

  “That’s wunderbaar!” Sawyer boomed, and again Hannah was warmed by his unbridled earnestness.

  Just then, Simon skidded to a stop in between them and thrust his fist up toward his father.

  “Look! Have you ever seen such a big toad?”

  “It is huge,
” Hannah acknowledged, studying the boy’s catch. “It’s the same color as the dirt. You must have keen eyesight to be able to spot him.”

  The little boy modestly replied, “I didn’t know he was there at first, but then I saw something hopping and that’s when I grabbed him.”

  Samuel and Sarah circled Simon to get another look.

  “Not too tight, Simon. You’re squeezing him,” Sawyer cautioned. “You must be careful not to harm it.”

  As he spoke, Hannah felt his warm breath on the nape of her neck as she bent over the amphibian. She hadn’t realized Sawyer was standing in such close proximity, and she was overcome with a peculiar sensation of dizziness.

  She stepped backward and announced, “You ought to release him now, Simon. Be sure to wipe your hands, please.”

  With that, she darted up the steps and into the classroom. “Mach’s gut,” she said, bidding Sawyer goodbye over her shoulder.

  * * *

  As the horse made its way back to the farm, Sawyer rubbed his forehead. Hannah had ended the conversation so abruptly he didn’t have a chance to speak to her about not giving the children treats. He had no idea what caused her brusque departure, although he noticed she visibly recoiled when he scolded Simon; had she thought him too strict?

  Eliza at times had grimaced when he’d corrected the children as youngsters. They had spoken about it once toward the end of her illness, after the triplets were asleep and Eliza herself was lying in bed.

  “Of course, kinner must be disciplined to obey their parents,” she said when he asked for her opinion. “It is our greatest responsibility to train them in what is right and to keep them safe.”

  “But?” he questioned.

  “But, my dear Sawyer.” Eliza sighed. “You are so tall and the kinner so small—sometimes it seems you don’t realize the strength of your own voice. I know how gentle you are, but to kinner or to strangers, a single loud word may be perceived as threatening as the growl of a bear.”

  She had been right: Sawyer admitted he hadn’t realized the intimidating effect of his size and volume. He’d raised his hands like two giant paws and let out a roar to make Eliza laugh, which she did, as weak as she was. After that, he made a concentrated effort to speak in a low but firm voice, but perhaps this morning his volume had been too loud?