Amish Christmas Joy (6 page)

She looked down. “I have no reason for such a journey.”

“Travel isn’t forbidden. Many Amish visit the seashore.”

“I couldn’t go alone, and I don’t know of anyone who would go with me.” Outside of her friend Levi Beachy, she hadn’t spoken to anyone who wished to see more of the world the way she did. Levi had planned to move to an Amish settlement in Colorado, but then he had married her friend Sarah and they were both happy to remain in Hope Springs now.

“Don’t some of the older couples around here travel to Florida for the winter? I’ve heard it’s a popular destination for Amish snowbirds.”

“Some do. Not many.”

“If the chance comes up, you should go along.”

“I teach school through the winter, so that won’t work.”

“I guess not, but you won’t always be teaching.”

“True. Someday I’ll be too old to keep up with the children.”

“The ocean will still be there for you.”

She hadn’t expected him to be understanding and sympathetic. Under other circumstances, he was the kind of man she could like.

* * *

Caleb was sorry when they arrived at the school. For a while, he had forgotten that he didn’t belong here. Leah was responsible for that. He wanted to ask if she had found forgiveness in her heart for him, but he knew it didn’t matter. He would leave again anyway.

She went ahead of him up the steps. He and Joy followed her into the school building. Immediately, the smells and the sight of the interior filled him with nostalgia. Nothing had changed in the years he’d been gone.

The floor was the same wide planking, scuffed but clean. Light poured in from the large windows along both sides of the single room. A blackboard covered two thirds of the front wall. Above it, student artwork was still displayed. The childish drawings were much the same, even if they had been done by different hands.

Squarely in the middle of the front sat a large stove. It could burn wood or coal, depending on how much heat the building needed. Slightly off to one side was Leah’s desk. Books and stacks of papers were arranged neatly on the shelves behind it. Old-fashioned wooden student desks were arranged in four rows, two on either side of a wide center aisle.

He could remember hiding behind the open lid of his desk near the back and sharing a laugh with his friends. The teacher would eventually come by and silence their conversation with a pointed look. Lidia Yoder had been a stern but fair teacher who had no trouble quelling the occasional rowdy student.

“What happened to Lidia Yoder? Is she still around?”

“She lives in a little house in Hope Springs. You should go see her.”

“I might do that.”

He tried to remember where Leah sat in the old days, but he couldn’t recall. He hadn’t had his eye on girls at that stage of his life. Mostly, he’d wanted to be out playing Duck, Duck, Goose, softball or sledding when the snow was deep enough.

Leah went straight to the stove and opened the firebox door. It was the teacher’s job to arrive early and get the stove going so the room would be warm by the time the children arrived. He said, “I’ll bring in some coal for you.”

“
Danki.
That would be nice. I’ll get the kindling ready.”

He picked up a large black metal bucket from the side of the stove. His daughter had gone to gaze at the blackboard. “Joy, why don’t you come with me? I’ll show you the coal shed.”

She picked up a piece of chalk from the tray that ran the length of blackboard. “Can I draw instead?”

He glanced at Leah. She nodded. He said, “Sure. Just do what Leah tells you. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Suddenly, Joy spun around, a worried look on her face. “Promise you’ll come back?”

His heart contracted painfully. That was exactly what her mother had done. Said she’d be back in a minute and then pulled her disappearing act. He crossed the room and dropped to one knee in front of Joy. He knew Leah was listening although she pretended to be busy with the stove. “Honey, I promise I won’t ever leave without telling you where I’m going and when to expect me back. Okay?”

“Okay.” She didn’t sound convinced, but the panic was gone from her eyes.

“Good.”

“You mean
goot.
”

Grinning, he nodded. “
Ja, goot.
Can you draw me a picture of Pickles?”

“Okay. How do you say
dog
in Pennsylvania Dutch?”

“Hund.”
He stood and picked up his bucket.

“How do you say
cats?
”

He was already halfway to the door.
“Katz.”

“Daddy, that’s the same.”

“Many of our words are the same or very similar,” Leah said. “In school, my students only speak English, while at home they speak Pennsylvania Dutch. While you are trying to learn our language, I am teaching my students your language.”

“That’s just weird.” Joy turned back to the board and made a large oval.

Caleb paused in the open door. “She has a point. It is weird.”

He ducked outside before Leah could reply, but he caught a glimpse of her engaging grin before he closed the door.

Wouldn’t it be nice if he could make her smile more often?

Chapter Six

“W
hy are we stopping, Daddy?”

Late on Sunday morning, Caleb parked his truck at the end of the lane leading to the Sutter farm. The three-hour service would be ending soon.

He hadn’t wanted Joy to spend the entire time sitting on a hard bench and listening to preaching in a language she couldn’t understand. Not yet. He wanted to expose her gradually to the things an Amish life would include. Bringing her late to the preaching was a step along that path, although he knew not everyone would approve.

“I’m stopping here because it wouldn’t be polite to arrive at a church meeting in an
Englisch
vehicle.”

“Why?”

“Because Amish people come to the church services on foot or in a buggy.”

“Why?”

He sighed heavily and repeated the phrase he’d heard a hundred times during his childhood when he questioned why things were done. “Because that is the way it has always been.”

“Okay.”

Surprisingly, the answer was enough for her. It hadn’t been for him. She pushed open the door on her side and stepped out. He reluctantly joined her. An Amish Sunday service was the last place he wanted to be. Maybe he should have let her come with his folks. He would have been home when she came back.

This time.

Thinking about the day he wouldn’t be around when she came home made him squirm. He couldn’t stay. His life wasn’t here, but Joy’s could be. He had to keep what was best for her at the forefront of his mind and not dwell on how much he was going to miss having her around. She appeared to be settling in well with his parents. Much better than he had expected. She hadn’t pitched a fit or talked about her mother in days.

She held open her jacket and made an awkward twirl in front of him. “Do you like my dress, Daddy? It’s the very first dress I ever owned.
Mammi
made my dress and my
kapp.
” She patted the white head covering that marked her as Amish.

“
Mammi
made me two white
kapps
and two black ones.”

“You look very Plain in it, honey.”

She scowled and stared at the ground. “I know I’m not pretty like other girls.”

His heart twisted with pain. She’d never been made to feel good about herself. He crouched in front of Joy and smoothed the creases from her white apron. “Looking Plain means you look very Amish. The blue color of your dress makes your eyes as bright as the sky.”

“I’m still ugly.”

He lifted Joy’s chin with his finger. “Never think that. God made you pretty in a very special way. He made you pretty from the inside out, not just on the outside like some girls.”

She looked up with uncertainty in her eyes. “He did?”

“Yes, He did. Do you know what I see when I look at you? I see the prettiest girl in the whole world wearing a brand-new dress made by a grandmother who loves her.”

Her frown vanished. “And a new
eahmal
shatzli.
”

It meant
long apron,
and it was part of a young Amish girl’s traditional dress. “Someday, when you are grown-up enough, you will put off wearing your long apron and wear a matching cape and short apron like your grandmother.”

It was a huge milestone in an Amish girl’s life. Another one he wouldn’t be around to see. The thought brought a funny ache to his chest.

Joy held her apron out and flapped it. “I don’t have to take it off today, do I?”

He smiled. “No, not today. Today, you’re going to your first Amish church service in your brand-new dress.”

“I hear singing, Daddy.”

“I hear it, too.” The slow cadence of Amish voices rose and fell as each word was drawn out over several notes. There was no music, only voices raised in worship.

“I don’t know that song. It sounds sad.”

He knew it by heart. He’d sung it countless times while seated on hard wooden benches, eager to have the service end so he could get out and visit with his friends and get up a game of volleyball or horseshoes.

“No one expects you to know it, Joy. You will learn that song in time, and many the other songs, too. Are you ready to go?”

“Yes. I mean,
ja.
”

“
Ja
is
goot.
”

She pressed her hands to her mouth and giggled. “You sound just like grandpa when you speak Amish, Daddy.”

“Do I? I reckon that’s not a bad thing.” He deeply admired his father. If only the feeling could be mutual.

They walked up the dirt drive, taking care to avoid the slushy snow melting in the sunshine. When they reached the house, he stopped and looked down at Joy. “Amish men and women don’t sit together at the preaching. You will have to go in and find your grandmother.”

“Aren’t you coming in?”

“No.” He wouldn’t be welcome. Wayne would have seen to that. In a way, he felt sorry for his brother. It couldn’t be easy living with so much guilt and fear.

“What if I can’t find Grandma?”

“You will, but if you don’t see her, it’s okay to ask where she is. You’ll have to sit still and be quiet until the service is over, but then you can play with the other kids and there will be lots to eat.”

“What if the other kids don’t like me?”

“They will. But if you want, you can stay with your grandmother, okay?”

“I guess.”

“Go on inside.”

“You won’t go away and leave me here, will you?”

She couldn’t shake the fear of being left alone. Who could blame her? He pointed to a stump by the corral fence. “I’ll be waiting right over there.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

She studied him for a long moment, trying to decide if he was telling the truth, then she nodded and walked up the steps and inside the house. He waited by the door, expecting her to come running back out, but she remained inside. It was a small victory for him and for her.

Half an hour later, the final hymn faded away and Caleb knew the service had ended. He waited out at the stump with his hands pushed deep in his coat pockets. It was sunny but still cold. He saw Joy come out with his mother. Joy darted across the yard toward him.

“I was good, Daddy. I sat real still, and I prayed for you because
Mammi
said I should.”

If God listened to anyone, surely He would listen to this child. “Thank you. I’m glad you were good.”

“Don’t you mean
danki?
”

“I do.
Danki
for your prayers.” Caleb lifted a hand to wave to his mother and let her know he would keep Joy with him. She nodded and went back inside to help prepare for the meal.

Caleb saw his brother come out with their father. He met their gazes before they both turned away without acknowledging him. It hurt to be ignored in front of others, but he steeled himself to endure it. He hadn’t taken the vows of baptism, but his actions, so far outside of what was expected of an Amish person, made his presence unacceptable to many.

Joy was chattering about the funny man with a beard who spoke during church when Caleb caught sight of Leah as she came out with her sister. Rhonda saw him and quickly averted her eyes. She pulled at Leah’s arm, but Leah ignored her. In front of everyone, she crossed the yard toward him.

* * *

Leah knew what she was doing would set tongues wagging, but she didn’t want Joy to see her father being ostracized by everyone in her new community. He’d made the effort to bring his daughter to church. Leah reluctantly admired his courage in doing so. If only he had found the courage to marry her sister instead of running away from his responsibilities all those years ago. All their lives would have been different.

And Joy wouldn’t be among them.

The child ran to greet her. “Leah, I didn’t see you inside.”

She smiled at the child, so full of happiness today. “I was there. I saw how well behaved you were.”

“Danki.”

Leah let her smile fade as she looked at Caleb. “Good morning.”

“You mean
guter mariye,
” Joy said with a bright smile. She was such a charming child. She seemed eager to learn all things Amish.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Caleb stared past Leah. She knew all eyes were on them.

“I wanted to ask if you were able to get Joy’s school records.”

“I had my attorney fax them to the local public library, since I don’t have access to a printer. I picked them up yesterday. They’re in the truck. I left it parked at the end of the lane.”

She hesitated. Walking off with him alone, even for a short trip, would put her in a tenuous position.

He seemed to sense her reluctance. He gestured toward the highway. “I’ll go get them. Would you look after Joy until I get back?”

“Of course.”

“Joy, mind Leah. Would you like to go home with me or ride home in the buggy with
Mammi
and
Daadi?
”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “The buggy!”

His gaze remained on Leah. “I wouldn’t trust her to just anyone, but I’ve seen how well you can handle her. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Do you want a box of
a-n-i-m-a-l c-r-a-c-k-e-r-s?
I have some in my pocket just in case.”

“We’ll be fine.” He trusted her to look after Joy. The thought filled her with warmth. She watched him walk away with long, sure strides.

And why shouldn’t he trust her? Looking after children was what she did. Other people’s children—never her own. Because of him.

She accepted it as God’s will, but sometimes she wondered why she was the one left without love in her life. She loved her students and they loved her, but it wasn’t the same. That love couldn’t hold her with tender arms or kiss away her fears in the darkness. She longed for the things marriage would bring—companionship, shared laughter, a sense of belonging to something important. But it wasn’t to be.

Rhonda came up to stand at her side. “You shouldn’t be talking to him.”

“He isn’t under the ban. We have no cause to shun him.”

“How can you say that?”

Leah gave a tiny shake of her head and glanced toward Joy. This wasn’t a conversation the child should hear. Fortunately, Anna Imhoff came up to greet Joy. “Anna, why don’t you take Joy and introduce her to some of the other children?”

As they walked away, Leah turned to her sister. “It happened a long time ago. Nothing can change it. Maybe it’s time to forgive Caleb.”

“I have forgiven him, but I’d rather you didn’t talk to him.”

“He wishes to enroll his daughter in our school.”

“Is he staying in Hope Springs?” Panic flooded Rhonda’s face.

“No. He knows the school board must agree to allow Joy to attend Walnut Valley. I told him what records we would need. I owe Caleb the same attention I owe any parent. Nothing more.”

“I wish he would leave and be done with it. Is he eager to rid himself of his daughter?”

“I don’t think he is eager to leave her.” She sensed a conflict in him. Was it because he didn’t want to leave his child or because he didn’t want to leave her with his Amish family?

Rhonda huffed. “I see. You’ve taken one of your broken-winged fancies to him, haven’t you?”

“I haven’t taken a fancy to him. I have taken a fancy to his daughter. Joy can be a trial, but she has a big heart.”

“She’ll be better off without him.”

“I think they belong together.” Joy needed her father in her life. And maybe her father needed her more than he knew.

Maggie came out of the house. She stopped short and looked around with a worried frown. “Leah, did Caleb leave?”

“
Nee.
He will be back in a few minutes.”

“Where is Joy?”

Leah pointed toward the barn. “She is playing with Anna and meeting the other children.”

Maggie relaxed. “That’s fine. I want her to make friends.”

“Speaking of friends, that reminds me. Did Rhonda tell you I’m having a cookie-baking frolic at my house on Wednesday evening?”

“I forgot to mention it,” Rhonda said quickly. She stared at her feet. “So much has happened.”

Leah and Maggie shared a sympathetic glance. They knew Caleb’s return had been hard on Rhonda. Leah tried to lighten the mood. “You’re welcome to come, Maggie, and bring Joy, too. I’m sure she would enjoy that.”

“I’m not sure, but thank you for the invitation. I’d better get back inside and help Nettie clear plates so the next group can eat. It was good of you to let Bishop Zook know the Chupp family is struggling. The community will make sure they have all they need until William is back on his feet.”

“I noticed some bare cupboards when I visited them on a school matter. I did nothing special.”