The Redemption of Sarah Cain (33 page)

Soon afternoon recitations were under way. Monday was always arithmetic day, so each grade stood and recited for twenty minutes at a time. At three o’clock on the dot, school was dismissed.

Caleb grinned at her as the last pupil filed out the door. ‘‘I like havin’ you for our teacher, Lyddie,’’ he said, waiting for her to gather up her books and things. ‘‘Will you be drivin’ home, or should I?’’

She agreed that he should. ‘‘Go ahead and hitch up Dobbin now. I’ll come in a minute.’’

Anna Mae, Josiah, and Hannah came wandering back inside to warm themselves by the wood stove while Lydia cleared her teacher’s desk. ‘‘I’m ready for a snack,’’ little Hannah said.

‘‘I wonder if Aunt Sarah’ll have any cocoa waitin’ for us,’’ Josiah said with a sly grin.

‘‘If not, we’ll make some ourselves,’’ replied Caleb.

Anna Mae laughed. ‘‘That’ll be the day—when I see my brothers cookin’ in the kitchen.’’

‘‘Now, now,’’ scolded Lydia. ‘‘Let’s head on home.’’

Josiah hung back, waiting for her to close the door on the wood stove. Its dying embers would be stirred to life early tomorrow morning once again. ‘‘Aunt Sarah’s got gut news for ya,’’ he whispered as they made their way to the door and closed it securely.

‘‘Is that so?’’ she said, playing along.

‘‘And I think you’ll be mighty pleased.’’

The way he said it, she was perty sure what that news was. It wouldn’t do to hear an unpleasant report of Aunt Sarah’s chat with Preacher Esh . . . possibly talk ’bout Levi King. Ach, she hoped she was right, what she was thinkin’ just now.

Sarah mulled over her phone conversation with Bryan Ford. He had seemed exceptionally confident. Perhaps a little
too
upbeat.
‘‘We have some catching up to do,’’
he had said, sounding both urgent and amiable. She didn’t care to imagine what he might have on his mind.

Still wearing her robe and slippers, she crept into the bathroom and drew the water for a midafternoon bath. Without the aid of antibiotics or decongestants, she was beginning to feel better. Quite a bit better, in fact.

After her bath, she dressed quickly, noting the time. The children would be arriving home soon, most likely by horse and buggy, as she had heard Lydia leave just after six o’clock this morning.
I’ll simmer some milk for hot cocoa
, she thought.

On the ride home, they happened to pass Levi King. He was sittin’ high in his racy black open carriage, brand-new last year, given to him by his father. Levi waved to the younger children, even called a warm ‘‘hullo!’’ to Caleb, but didn’t begin to look Lydia’s way. Not this time. Her heart sank, yet the fact that he was riding alone gave her good courage. No one else had taken her place in his heart. Not yet.

During the supper hour, Sarah encouraged each of the children to practice table manners. But Josiah promptly explained for her benefit that ‘‘a gut, loud belch is the People’s way of showin’ a cook just how tasty a meal is.’’

Sarah tried to keep from grinning, the boy’s response was so adorable.

‘‘ ‘Please’ and ‘thank you’ are Englischer words,’’ he continued. ‘‘And we wouldn’t wanna be soundin’ like fancy folk nohow.’’

‘‘I see,’’ she replied, not seeing at all. In fact, she was even more puzzled as to why her sister had chosen
her
.

Before retiring for the night, Sarah read the last entry in one of Ivy’s earlier journals, six months after Anna Mae was born:

It’s nearly midnight and my youngest is still restless. Tiny
Anna Mae needs lots of attention, it seems. She’s clingy and colicky,
more so than either Lyddie or Caleb were at this age. Yet I
am determined to be a loving, caring mother to this wee one, so
needy she is.

I received a short letter from Sarah today. She’s looking ahead
to her practice teaching this spring. I’m surprised, really. Sarah
has never been inclined toward children.

Gil and I were talking this evening after supper. We’ve come
to this conclusion: We must get rid of even more clutter in the
house and the barn. He says if we don’t free ourselves of things,
we’ll spend our whole life tidying up
.

Sarah, weary from the day and the lingering effects of her illness, had felt uplifted somewhat by the children’s reaction to her staying on a few more days. Their eyes had brightened when she greeted them after school and served the mugs of hot chocolate on a tray, complete with oatmeal cookies, which Lydia and Anna Mae had baked on Saturday.

Slipping under the sheets, she thought of Ivy’s journal entry. Her sister’s pointed opinion regarding Sarah’s inadequacy with children had been emphasized once again. She sighed, staring across the room at the wisps of light floating in the window.

What a dichotomy that Ivy had continually felt that way, yet named Sarah as guardian for her offspring nonetheless. It never ceased to boggle Sarah’s mind.

Pushing that thought aside, she pondered the final paragraph in Ivy’s diary. Somehow, the extremely modern Ivy Cottrell, former teenage prom princess and socialite, had turned a corner in her life. How
had
she managed to free her life of things—of chaos—as she had written?

Lydia, tired as she was, couldn’t wait to write in her diary before going to bed.

Monday night, January 31

My first day as teacher at Peach Lane School!

Honestly, I don’t see how I did it, getting up at three-thirty
this morning to do the washing, without the help of Anna Mae or
anyone else. I do believe Mondays will be the hardest day for a
young schoolteacher like me. When things are settled—and I hope
they are soon—I hope not to have the clothes-washing duties,
along with the added responsibility of getting the fire in the wood
stove going at the schoolhouse. Maybe Preacher Esh or another
nearby farmer might help with that . . . ’least on Mondays. Aunt
Sarah is pitching in a lot more now that she’s feelin’ better. She’ll
prob’ly take over the laundry duties for us.

I’d never be so forward as to declare it, but I felt exhilarated
on my first day of teaching. Seems to me the Lord God helped
me do a right good job, too. Wasn’t so hard to manage all eight
grades, either, as I put some of the older pupils to work helping the
younger ones. Everything worked out so well. Even Anna Mae
was on her best behavior. Glory be!

Josiah, bless his heart, could hardly keep the secret that Aunt
Sarah’s planning to stay on a bit more. He was nearly bursting
at the seams on the ride home in the buggy after school. It was
quite interesting, though, the look on Aunt Sarah’s face when I
was sipping her hot cocoa, listening as she shared her news. I
don’t know how she’s going to go ’bout it, really. Finding a foster
family in this community, what with most parents juggling seven
or more children, well, it’ll be a difficult task. If it’s God’s will
for us to live with someone other than Mamma’s sister, He’ll provide
for us.

I’m praying ever so hard these days. Levi King’s still on my
mind and in my heart
.

The cell phone rang around nine-thirty, waking Sarah. She reached for it quickly, so as not to startle the house full of sleeping children. ‘‘Yes?’’ she answered.

‘‘Sarah, it’s Bill Alexander. You sound sleepy.’’

‘‘I am.’’ She reminded him of the time differential.

‘‘It’s early there, right?’’

She smiled. ‘‘We’re a farm family . . . we get up with the cows. Sometimes earlier.’’

‘‘Oh, a
family
, eh?’’

Too tired to explain, she inquired of the closing she knew had taken place that afternoon. ‘‘How did things go?’’

‘‘Smooth as molasses . . . or is it pudding?’’

She smiled. ‘‘Glad to hear it. Send me the check.’’

‘‘You must be planning to stay there a while longer.’’

‘‘I haven’t decided exactly how long.’’

‘‘Well, can you give me a heads up when you think you might return?’’

‘‘Sure.’’

‘‘Before I forget, Heidi’s got everything lined up for your closing on Wednesday and Thursday.’’

‘‘Super. Thanks, Bill. I appreciate it.’’

‘‘Hey, you okay? You sound sick.’’

She wondered if he’d noticed her raspy throat. ‘‘Actually, I’m on the mend. I plan to be up and at ’em full force early tomorrow.’’ ‘‘They got you plowing fields yet?’’

‘‘Not
this
week.’’ She chuckled softly.

‘‘Don’t forget the real estate business. We need you, Sarah. You’re the best.’’

‘‘Hey, I like that—has a nice ring to it.’’

‘‘Well, I’m not kidding,’’ Bill said before they hung up.

She turned the power off on the cell phone, eager for a tranquil night’s sleep.