Amish Triplets for Christmas Page 4

  Then he asked himself why he should be bothered about what Hannah Lantz thought of him. She was a virtual stranger. Besides, Gott knew the intention of his heart, just as Eliza had always known.

  Troubled he’d found himself comparing Eliza and Hannah, Sawyer was glad for the heavy field work that lay before him, which allowed him to pour all of his energy into the physical labor and sufficiently rid his mind of memories of Eliza and notions about Hannah.

  By late afternoon, the air was oppressive with humidity, and as Sawyer rode toward the schoolhouse, a line of clouds billowed across the horizon. He was neither early nor late for dismissal; as he approached, several children scampered across the yard and climbed into buggies parked beneath the willow. After waiting a few minutes without seeing Sarah, Samuel and Simon, he jumped down and strode toward the building. A few hot raindrops splashed against his skin before he tentatively pushed the door open.

  Inside, the children were paying rapt attention as Hannah read aloud to them from a book opened in her lap. He had never seen the boys sit so still. When Sawyer cleared his throat, she glanced up in his direction, her eyes dancing.

  “Here is your daed now, Sarah,” she said. “Didn’t I tell you he’d arrive on time?”

  “I was waiting outside,” he explained, removing his hat. “You told me earlier I wasn’t to come indoors.”

  She tilted her head and pursed her lips in the curious manner she had a way of doing, and then recognition swept over her expression. “Not during lessons, neh, but you are allowed—indeed, you are wilkom—to come in after school. It’s no intrusion.”

  Her repetition of the same phrases he’d used earlier that morning gave him pause. Did he dare to think she was deliberately being facetious? If so, it was difficult to tell; her quips were far subtler and more amusing than Doris’s overt coquetry.

  His mouth was so dry, all he could muster was “Denki,” and this time he was the one who departed abruptly without saying another word.

  Chapter Three

  The warm weather caused the yeast to rise quickly. As Hannah kneaded the dough the following morning, she racked her mind for recipes she could make once Simon, Samuel and Sarah arrived. She had been so thrilled that she’d convinced her grandfather to allow her to watch the Plank children that she’d neglected the practical details involved in the arrangement. Every month, she budgeted their meal allowance down to the penny; she didn’t know where the money would come from to feed her grandfather and herself as well as the children. As it was, she wouldn’t receive the next installment of her teacher’s salary until the first of October.

  “I should bring your toys to the shop on Saturday,” Hannah mouthed to her grandfather when he looked up from his plate of eggs and potatoes at breakfast.

  It wasn’t too early for tourists to begin shopping for Christmas during their excursions through the countryside. The sooner Hannah’s grandfather put the wooden trains, tractors and dollhouses on consignment, the better. She also hoped one of the toys her groossdaadi put on consignment last month sold, which would help supplement the cost of groceries for the upcoming week.

  “I’ll take you,” he shouted, wiping his face with a napkin.

  She had hoped to go alone; his handling of the buggy made her nervous. He couldn’t hear passing traffic and many a car had to swerve to avoid hitting him when he should have yielded. Also, he bellowed so loudly to the shopkeeper, the poor man cringed and shrugged, which frustrated her grandfather. Hannah inevitably had to translate.

  “Are you certain? I expect it will be a very hot and busy day.”

  “Am I certain?” he repeated. “I am certain of this—my toys put food on the table. If I am to get the best price, I must accompany you. Unless you wish us to starve as I nearly did yesterday?”

  Even if her grandfather had been able to hear, she wouldn’t have pointed out that her teaching salary—and soon, her temporary income from watching the Plank children—also helped put food on the table. Compared with his provisions over the years, she felt her contribution was meager at best.

  “Of course not, Groossdaadi,” Hannah replied. “I’m sorry you were hungry yesterday. I sliced extra bologna for you today.”

  Please, Lord, continue to provide my groossdaadi and me our daily bread, she prayed as she wrapped a few bread crusts to take to school for lunch. And allow the loaf to rise big enough to feed Samuel, Sarah and Simon, as well.

  * * *

  Come sunrise, Sawyer woke the children to get dressed for school. As the boys pulled their shirts over their heads, he noticed how prominent their ribs and shoulder blades were becoming. How had this happened during the few weeks Gertrude was away? It emphasized the need for them to return home and establish their normal routine as soon as possible.

  He was grateful his uncle prepared a substantial breakfast of ham and eggs, but it was so early the children hadn’t any appetites, especially not for a meal fit for grown men. Sawyer bundled fruit and bread with slices of meat into separate sacks for each of them for lunch. After instructing them to complete their morning chores, he strode to the barn with his cousins.

  His body ached as he walked. Farming required him to use a different set of muscles from those he exercised at his cabinetry shop. The leftover stew they’d eaten for dinner the night before sat like a rock in his gut. No wonder the children were unable to finish their portions. As he groaned from the effects of nausea and the stifling morning air, he remembered he needed to discuss the children’s dietary needs with Hannah. Yet he couldn’t imagine how he might broach the subject or what her reaction would be.

  There was something—not necessarily mysterious, nor distrustful, but definitely skittish—about Hannah that caused him to want to measure his words with her. Or at least, that caused him not to want to offend her. Yet he seemed to do exactly that.

  The dilemma occupied his mind as he performed the morning chores, and he tried to recall how he and Eliza settled their differences concerning the children. Funny, but he couldn’t remember having many. Without speaking about it, they tended to naturally agree on what was best for Simon, Samuel and Sarah. Their mutually shared perspective about raising the children was a strength he missed terribly. Even when they disagreed about some small aspect of the children’s care, Eliza’s opinion was invaluable to Sawyer and they always reached a reasonable compromise. He wished she were there to guide him about what to do now.

  By the time he had hitched up the horse to take the children to school, he concluded being forthright about the sweets was the best approach. Hannah undoubtedly would understand and honor his requests concerning the children, but unless he made them clear, how would she know what they were? After all, she was no Eliza.

  * * *

  Hannah was still so excited about the prospect of becoming a nanny that she hadn’t been able to eat when she sat down with her grandfather for breakfast. So when she arrived half an hour early to school, she settled behind her desk and peeled the shell from a hard-boiled egg.

  Still trying to come up with inexpensive meals she could make for the children, she realized as long as the chickens were laying, eggs were plentiful, a good source of protein and cost nothing. Likewise, the garden was still going strong with tomatoes and corn, but she brooded about their limited dairy supply, knowing how important milk was for growing children.

  When she finished her egg, she smeared a dab of preserves over a crust of bread. She was wiping the corner of her mouth with a napkin when the heavy door inched open.

  “Guder mariye, Teacher,” the triplets said in unison. With their pink cheeks and blond hair backlit by the sun streaming in behind them, they looked positively adorable, and Hannah couldn’t help but smile at their appearance.

  “Guder mariye,” she replied. “Is it just the three of you today, or have you brought your friend, the toad, inside?”

/>   She was referring to the toad they’d caught the previous morning, but as soon as she finished her sentence, Sawyer crossed the threshold.

  “Guder mariye,” he stated apprehensively. “Might I have a word with you outside?”

  She followed him to the landing and squinted up at him. Against the sunshine, he appeared aglow, with the light rimming his strapping shoulders in golden hues and bouncing off his blond curls. But when she noticed his austere expression, she worried he might have thought she was referencing him when she’d asked the children about the toad.

  “Is something wrong?” she questioned.

  “Neh...” Sawyer objected slowly. “But there’s something I’d like to bring to your attention.”

  Hannah thought whatever it was he wanted to discuss, it must have been a grave matter—he could hardly look at her.

  “How may I be of assistance?” she asked, hoping to put him at ease.

  “You are already of assistance. Perhaps too much so,” he began hesitantly. He glanced away and back at her. “It is my understanding that you gave sweet bread and preserves to Simon the other afternoon?”

  Oh, then, it wasn’t a serious matter at all. He simply wanted to thank her; how kind.

  “It was a trifling. I’m happy to share with any child who may be hungry.”

  “But it wasn’t a trifling,” Sawyer countered. “It ruined Simon’s appetite for more substantial food. I recognize many Amish families consider pastries and other treats to be part of their daily bread—especially in Willow Creek. But, as you probably noticed, my kinner are a bit thin and it is important for their physical health that they receive adequate sustenance. I trust the meals you will prepare as part of the kinner’s daily care will be nutritious and substantial, with limited sweets?”

  Hannah felt as if the air had been squeezed from her lungs. Here she had sacrificed her entire noonday meal and Sawyer was acting as if she’d tried to poison the boy. She felt at once both foolish and angry, and her face blazed as she struggled to keep her composure.

  “Of course,” she agreed. “Kinner—all kinner, whether they are from Pennsylvania or Ohio—do need sustenance, which is why I often bring extra eggs or a slice of meat to school. Two days ago, I had only brought bread enough for me. Your Simon upended the lunch sack into the dirt, so I gave bread and jam to him as well as to Sarah and Samuel. But Simon later complained of a headache and I thought it was because he was still hungry, so I permitted him another piece. But I apologize for ruining his appetite for adequate sustenance. I assure you it won’t happen again, and I most definitely will prepare healthy recipes while they are under my care.”

  She stomped up the stairs and into the classroom, leaving Sawyer alone on the stoop.

  * * *

  Sawyer was so abashed, he didn’t know whether to follow Hannah and apologize or flee as quickly as he could. As he was hesitating, an approaching buggy caught his eye and he decided to leave.

  He tried to shrug off his interaction with her as being an unfortunate misunderstanding, but despite his efforts, throughout the morning he couldn’t shake her expression from his mind. She looked as if she’d been stung. And no wonder—he’d been such an oaf, criticizing her when she was only looking after Simon’s welfare.

  “Are you watching the clouds or napping with your eyes open?” Jonas ribbed him when he drifted into thought.

  He wiped his hands on his trousers without saying a word and continued to work. He decided there was only one thing he could do—apologize to Hannah. He needed to be as forthright now as he’d tried to be this morning. He completed his tasks with a new vigor, motivated by his resolve to set things right.

  But when he arrived at the schoolhouse, Samuel, Sarah and Simon were playing tag with a girl Sawyer recognized from the first day of school.

  “Where is your teacher?” he called to them.

  “She’s inside, speaking to my wife, Miriam,” a voice from behind him answered. The dark-haired man was short and stout. “I’m Jacob Stolzfus and that girl your son is chasing around the willow is my daughter, Abigail. You must be Sawyer Plank, John’s nephew.”

  “I am,” Sawyer responded. “Those are my kinner, Sarah, Simon and Samuel, the one who just tagged your daughter.”

  “Abigail has told us about your Sarah,” Jacob commented. “She already is very fond of her.”

  “Sarah is pleased to have a girl her age for a friend, as well,” Sawyer acknowledged. “Usually her brothers are her primary playmates. She’s happy not to be outnumbered.”

  As they spoke, the door to the schoolhouse swung open and Miriam and Hannah emerged. Miriam was stroking her swollen belly and chatting animatedly. A breeze played with the strings of Hannah’s prayer kapp, and Sawyer was distracted by the sight of her lifting a slender hand to cover her bright pink lips, as if to contain a mirthful gasp.

  “How about you?” Jacob was saying.

  “Pardon?”

  “How do you find Willow Creek so far?”

  “It’s to my liking,” he answered absentmindedly, still watching as Miriam and Hannah descended the staircase. “It is unique, to say the least.”

  “You might consider staying beyond the harvest, since you wouldn’t be leaving behind a farm of your own in Ohio,” suggested Jacob. “Our district is shrinking. Any relative of John Plank’s would be wilkom to take up residence here permanently. We could use a young family like yours in our district.”

  At the bottom step, Hannah glanced up and Sawyer caught her eye. He noticed a slight dimming of her countenance before she continued to amble with Miriam toward their buggy.

  “Neh,” Sawyer replied definitively. “I am only here for a short while to help my onkel, as you apparently have heard. Everything I have is in Ohio—my business, my home, my family. People there depend on me and I on them. It’s true I don’t own a farm, but the Lord gave me responsibilities there I wouldn’t soon abandon.”

  He sharply called to the triplets, who sprinted across the lawn and piled into the buggy. The children waved to Abigail, her family and Hannah as they rode away, but Sawyer kept his eyes locked on the road ahead of him.

  That night when supper was served and they each asked for second helpings—Simon even requested a third—he decided no matter Hannah’s reason for feeding his children, he had been right to prohibit her from giving them sweets before supper as a general rule. An apology to her wasn’t necessary after all.

  * * *

  Hannah wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. She hoped the hot spell would break, but it still seemed more like the dog days of summer than nearly autumn. She was grateful Jacob and Miriam had given her a ride home from school on their way back from town, but standing over the gas stove cooking supper in the tiny kitchen caused her to sweat almost as much as if she’d walked home.

  “It’s dry,” her grandfather said disgustedly about the chicken she’d prepared. “Bring me a different piece.”

  Since she had served the only meat they had, Hannah took both of their plates to the stove and covertly switched her piece with his, slicing off the ends so he wouldn’t notice. While her back was still turned toward him, she practiced an old trick she and Eve sometimes used to communicate with each other.

  “Just once I wish I had someone to talk to in the evening who had something pleasant to say.” She spoke aloud, knowing he couldn’t see to read her lips. “Either that, or I wish I were the one who was deaf, so I couldn’t hear your surly remarks.”

  Without Eve’s sympathetic ear, expressing herself in such a manner did little to defuse Hannah’s frustration, and she remained feisty until bedtime, rushing through her evening prayers before crawling into bed. She kicked off her sheets as a drop of perspiration trickled down the side of her cheek and into her ear. Or perhaps it was a tear. Despite her best efforts to please everyone, th
e day had been plagued with upsetting events.

  First, Sawyer had shamed her for sharing her bread with Simon. Then Miriam had shown up at the schoolhouse at the end of the day and her effervescent glee emphasized how bereft Hannah felt.

  Although Amish women were reluctant to discuss such matters—sometimes not even mentioning they were carrying a child until the baby was born—Miriam confided that earlier in the morning, she had consulted a midwife.

  “I’ll soon give birth to a healthy bobbel, Gott willing,” Miriam tearfully divulged. “After losing three unborn bobblin, I can’t tell you how joyful we are.”

  “I am very joyful for you,” Hannah said, squeezing Miriam’s arm. “I will keep you in my prayers.”

  “Denki. The midwife warned me that meanwhile I must limit my physical activities. Abigail is a help, but with her at school, it’s difficult for me to keep up the house and garden.”

  Judging from how full-figured Miriam had become, Hannah guessed she had merely a month or two before she delivered, but that was an unspoken subject, something only God knew for certain.

  She was truly glad for Miriam and Jacob, and she wouldn’t have dreamed of begrudging them such fulfillment. Nor did she envy Miriam’s marriage: she’d always known Jacob wasn’t the Lord’s intended for her. But Miriam’s news made her all the more aware that soon she’d have to bid her students goodbye—and teaching them was the closest she’d ever come to having kinner herself. What was she going to do without their daily presence in her life?

  It didn’t help that just as Miriam was telling her about the bobbel, Hannah glimpsed Sawyer conversing with Jacob, and his chastisement burned afresh in her mind. It almost seemed as if neither man nor God believed she was fit to care for children!