Amish Country Box Set: Restless Hearts\The Doctor's Blessing\Courting Ruth (53 page)

“I haven’t changed my mind,” she pointed out, looking for Eli in the sea of boys in colored shirts. Blue. His had been blue…the color of his eyes. She didn’t see him anywhere.

“Come on, let me drive you home. Anna and Miriam can take your little sister home safely enough.” Mahlon took her hand and pulled her back to the first wagon. “On
to the Millers’ place,” he told the driver, then looked back. “Have we got everyone?”

Ruth glanced around, saw Susanna and Anna in the second wagon and settled back into the straw. The evening had started out so well, but now she was feeling out of sorts. She wished she could just go home. As the wagon rolled down the Troyers’ driveway, she looked back for Eli again, but he was still nowhere. To her surprise, she was disappointed. Disappointed she might not see those blue eyes again tonight.

It was almost ten o’clock by the time the wagons rolled down the last lane and turned back toward the Borntragers’ farm. A few of the young people were still singing, but for the most part, there were more giggles and laughter than adhering to the hymns. Miriam was on the same wagon with one of her best friends, and they were teasing Harvey Borntrager, Dinah’s fifteen-year-old brother-in-law. Everyone liked Harvey, but this was the first time he’d been allowed to go to a singing, and he had to expect his share of ribbing.

The evening ended on a high note with one of the other churches inviting all the young people to a day of fishing and games later in the summer. The chaperones kept close watch to see that no one was left behind as everyone found their respective buggies or, if they’d walked to the Borntragers’ place, that they found their own group to go home.

Susanna had fallen asleep on the wagon, and it took both Ruth and Anna to get her down and into their buggy. Mahlon, Ruth was pleased to note, had found another girl to escort home. Ruth was just fastening the last strap on Blackie’s harness when Eli appeared by the horse’s head, startling her again. She met his blue-eyed gaze.

“Sure you don’t want to ride with me?” he asked.

She swallowed. “I told you that I didn’t think it was a good idea,” she reminded him.

“Just as well,” he said. He reached behind him, caught the hand of a girl standing in the shadows. “So you won’t mind if I take Miriam instead?”

“I—
Ne,
” she stammered. “I mean, that’s not—”

“See you at home!” Miriam called excitedly, leading Eli away.

“Miriam!” Ruth tried to push Blackie’s head aside so she could see her sister, but he was being stubborn. “Mam won’t like it. You can’t—” But once again, she was standing there helpless as her sister dashed off with Eli Lapp. She tried to convince herself as she climbed up on the bench beside the sleeping Susanna that the distress she felt was concern for Miriam, but there was no denying the truth.

Secretly, she wished she was the one sitting beside Eli on the buggy seat.

Chapter Seven

O
n Friday, Roman and Eli began work on the repairs at the Seven Poplars schoolhouse. Samuel had brought his farm wagon to carry away the burnt wood and pieces of foundation, and Hannah had dismissed the older boys to provide additional labor. Anna and Susanna had gone to Spence’s Auction with eggs, flowers and strawberries, but Miriam had stayed behind and volunteered to carry all the school desks out into the yard and give them a good cleaning. Mam’s older female students were helping. Ruth and her mother divided the remaining children into reading groups and led them away from the building to continue class outside.

Ruth found a spot under an oak tree at the edge of the school yard to spread out blankets. All her students were girls; her mother had taken the boys into the shade on the far side of the ball field. Even here, Ruth found that the loud sounds of hammering and clattering wood drew the children’s attention and kept them from giving full attention to their reading lessons.

Surrendering, Ruth asked Verna Beachy to read aloud from a battered copy of
Heidi,
and that seemed to satisfy everyone. Ruth’s attention, however, drifted from the story,
and she glanced back at the school to see Miriam chatting with Eli as she scrubbed a desk with a wet sponge.

Ruth felt vaguely out of sorts and looked away, then back again. She hadn’t spoken to Miriam about her reckless decision to ride home in the buggy with Eli after she’d already been in hot water with Mam over the motor scooter. Although everyone always knew which couples left the singing together, Amish tradition was to give young people privacy by pretending not to notice. Miriam had returned home shortly after Ruth, but Miriam hadn’t dropped so much as a hint as to whether she’d enjoyed the secluded time with Eli or how he’d behaved. And Mam, who usually knew everything that went on in the household, seemed to be oblivious. It wasn’t like Miriam to be so secretive, but Ruth didn’t know how to ask without seeming jealous. Not that she was. Was she?

Ruth didn’t know if she was more vexed with her sister or with Eli. Miriam should have better sense. What kind of boy paid attention to one sister and then the other? That wasn’t the way things were done here in Kent County. And he was way too forward, to boot.

Usually a boy didn’t directly ask a girl to ride home with him from a social. He’d have a friend speak to one of her friends first to see whether the girl was willing. Certainly no one ever courted two girls at the same time. That would be considered fast behavior and would invite a talking-to by Uncle Reuben or the bishop. Belleville was a long way away, but Ruth didn’t think customs could be all that different in Eli’s home community.

Ruth’s thoughts drifted back to the other night. Had Eli been serious when he’d asked her to ride home from the singing with him? She’d refused him. So why was she feeling the green pangs of jealousy?

The unkind thought that Eli might have been using her
to get close to Miriam occurred to her. But that didn’t make sense. Wasn’t Miriam the one who’d first encouraged him by accepting the ride on his ridiculous motorbike at Spence’s?

As far as Ruth was concerned, Eli Lapp was causing far too much trouble in Seven Poplars. The best thing Ruth and Miriam could do was stay away from him. But that was going to be hard to do now, what with him working at the school and, worse, coming to dinner.

Ruth couldn’t imagine what had possessed Mam to invite him for Sunday dinner. Mam had also asked Irwin, but Mam often asked pupils to her home so that she could give them personal attention. But Eli? How were people to stop talking about Miriam riding his motorbike if Mam invited him to their house? The community would think the two were courting.

Maybe they were….

One of the first-graders climbed into Ruth’s lap. Little Rosy was wide-eyed and adorable, enthralled by the tale of Heidi’s adventures. Ruth couldn’t help cuddling the child. As Ruth gazed around at the circle of innocent faces beneath their white caps, she was struck by the strong bonds of love that bound them all together.

Sweet or naughty, quick or slow, spirited or plodding, Ruth loved each of the girls as if they were her own sisters. It gave her a deep satisfaction to know that these young people were the future of the Amish church and community. They would guard the faith and uphold the traditions she held so dear, and most of them, God willing, would always be part of her life.

Her choice to remain unwed meant never having her own children, never sewing small
Kapps
and aprons, never watching a boy take his first steps into manhood. Ruth thought she was prepared to make that sacrifice, but this
afternoon, she felt a deep sorrow at what she would be giving up. In the Amish faith, it was the hereafter that was important, not this earthly existence. But for the briefest space of time, she allowed herself to imagine her own baby in her arms, her own kitchen, and putting a hearty midday meal on the table for a husband.

Ruth’s insides knotted as her overactive imagination betrayed her. In her mind, she saw a bearded man filling the kitchen doorway…a man with Eli’s blue eyes, his butter-yellow hair and his roguish grin. “Something smells good, Ruth,” she could almost hear him say. “Ruth.”

She blinked and focused on Verna Beachy’s owl-like expression.

“The bell,” Verna said.

Rosy squirmed out of Ruth’s arms. “School’s over,” Rosy piped.

Ruth chuckled. “You’re right, girls. Go on.”

Laughing and chattering to each other, Elvie, Verna, Rosy and the others hurried to gather their lunch boxes and bonnets. Samuel’s ten-year-old twins, Peter and Rudy, and the other younger boys were running back to the schoolhouse as well. And almost before Ruth had folded the blankets, the children were scattering: some on push-scooters, a few on in-line skates and others running barefoot across the fields toward home.

Samuel drove the wagonload of burned wood out of the yard. There was still a great deal of hammering and crashing coming from the front of the schoolhouse, but the other men were still working. Mam had gone inside, and Ruth could see her pulling down the window shades.

Ruth started toward the building when she spied Irwin open the door to the girls’ outhouse, a squirming snake
clutched in his hands. He saw her and quickly tucked the snake behind his back as he let the door swing shut.

“What are you up to now?” Ruth demanded. She’d been wanting to speak to the boy ever since Miriam had told her that she was sure their cows getting out was no accident. Apparently, Miriam had gone to open the water pipes at the base of the windmill and left Irwin to fasten the gate. Miriam believed that he’d deliberately let the animals loose. “What are you doing with that snake?”

“Snake? What snake?”

Ruth saw the reptile drop and slither away. It was a black snake, at least two feet long. She stepped in front of Irwin and looked directly into his eyes. “You were trying to frighten the girls with that snake, weren’t you?”

“No, I just…” He shrugged and stared at the ground.

Ruth folded her arms. “You were playing a mean trick. You know you don’t belong near the girls’ outhouse.”

Irwin’s prominent ears took on the glow of ripe tomatoes as he tried to bury his chin in his faded shirt.

She gently raised his head so that he had to meet her gaze. “You were making mischief again, weren’t you? Just as you did at our house when you let the cows out.”

Irwin sniffed and rubbed his nose with the back of a grubby hand.

“Don’t you know that our cows could have become sick from eating the corn? Not to mention the damage to the crops. You know how valuable the animals are. Why would you do such a thing?” He shrugged.

Ruth took a deep breath. Dealing with this child was frustrating. She forced her tone to copy her mother’s, authoritarian but soft. “Mam has invited you to Sunday dinner. You
will
be there. Understand?” Irwin nodded.

“And no more tricks. Not at the school nor at our farm. Or else.”

“I won’t, I promise,” a man’s voice said.

Ruth turned around to find a grinning Eli standing behind her. As she turned, Irwin made his escape. He dove under the fence rail and plunged down the path that led through the grove.

“You’re no help,” Ruth admonished Eli. She told him about the snake in the girls’ outhouse.

Eli laughed. “And Irwin pleaded innocent, did he?”

“‘Snake, what snake?’” She snickered. “He’s impossible. You never know what he’ll do next.”

“Boys will be boys,” he offered, palms up as if that explained it.

“Miriam thinks Irwin deliberately let our cows out. That’s why she yelled at him and sent him home instead of asking him to help round them up.”

Eli regarded her, his blue eyes thoughtful. “Roman thinks the kid might need more help than his cousins can give.” He shook his head. “Norman and Lydia already have a full plate with their own children.”

“But they’re all Irwin has,” Ruth said. “His parents and sister died in the fire. Where else would he go?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been wondering the same thing.” He motioned toward the school. “Wanna come inside and see what we got done today? Back at the shop, Roman and I are working on some built-in cabinets.”

She looked up at him, thinking again how tall he was and how sure he sounded of himself when he talked about his skills at building. “They sound nice,” she said lamely, debating whether she wanted to inspect the progress. Out here she could breathe, but for some reason, going inside with him didn’t seem like all that good an idea.

Miriam came out of the school and waved. “Eli!”

Ruth took a step back, feeling as if a bubble around her and Eli had burst. It had been so nice, just talking, but the moment had passed, and she felt awkward with him again.

Glancing at Miriam, who was practically running to Eli, Ruth wondered if her sister expected her to leave the two of them alone, or should she pretend that she knew nothing about their mutual attraction?

“Mam wants us to go to the chair shop and make a phone call.” Miriam reached in her pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper. “We need to make a dentist appointment for Susanna.” She smiled at Eli. “Roman said you wouldn’t mind driving us down in his buggy.”

“Ne,”
Eli said. “I’ll be glad to.”

Miriam looked back to Ruth. “Mam wants us to call before the office closes for the afternoon.”

Their church didn’t allow phones in their homes, but because Roman did business with the English, the bishop had permitted him to have one installed in a small lean-to shed at the side of the chair shop. Any member of the community was free to make calls when they needed to.

Feeling like a third wheel, Ruth looked from one to the other. “No need for me to come,” she offered. “I can just—”

Miriam shook her head. “Mam said
both
of us. I have the number.”

“I’ll go, but you’re going to have to make the appointment,” Ruth insisted. “You have to learn to do it sometime.”

“All right,” Miriam agreed. “And afterward, we can walk home.”

“No trouble to drive you home,” Eli insisted.

“Samuel says the board has approved our pie auction at the picnic,” Miriam said as Eli went to get the buggy.