Lilly's Wedding Quilt (26 page)

“Later, perhaps.”

She let her gaze trace her husband’s face and noticed that he was looking increasingly caught. Trapped somehow. She didn’t like to see him that way.

“Give me what’s behind your back, Seth Wyse. You may … I mean, please go. I’d like to spend some time alone with my husband.” She deliberately infused an extra bit of warmth into her tone at the suggestion and watched Seth throw a helpless glance at his brother.

“Uh … all right … Jacob was just showing me the artwork in the book you made for him. The sketches are quite well drawn.” He slapped the book into her outstretched hand and grabbed his coat. “I’ll, uh … leave you two alone.” He slid the barn door closed before she could say another word.

Lilly looked down at the creased primer, then at Jacob. He’d turned his back to her, his arms stretched wide as he clutched the edge of the workbench with white knuckles.

“I missed you,” she said softly. “In the house … I didn’t know where you’d gone.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled over his shoulder.

She took a few steps closer to him, admiring the broad width of his back and shoulders in his light blue shirt. She wanted to touch him but knew that he’d probably resist. She might have chosen to walk away, because she had no doubt that he’d been working on the primer with Seth. She didn’t want to embarrass him, but she wondered, both as a teacher and as a woman, how far she might push him to get him to open up about his reading difficulties.

“
Danki
for showing Seth the book. I’m glad you liked it enough to share it.”

He shrugged and she gazed around the barn, looking for inspiration.

“So … when you teach me to ride … what will you do to help me not be afraid?”

He turned slowly. “What?”

She wet her lips and looked down at the floor. “I know we haven’t had a lot of time to think about it, but the idea of learning to ride. It still scares me, terrifies me, really. I wondered what you’d do to help me.”

“I … I’d tell you not to be afraid. I’ll make sure that you don’t get hurt.”

“
Jah
, but how can you do that? I’ll probably fall.”

He shook his head. “
Nee
, that’s not true. It’s often poor teaching that lets a new rider fall. With the right practice and exercises, getting your seat, maintaining the proper body line and balance, there will be less chance of you falling. And if you did … if you did … I promise I’d make it feel better fast.” His voice had taken on a husky timbre that sent shivers of delight across her shoulders, but Lilly kept her focus.

“So … I’ll have to trust you then?”

He took a step closer to her. “
Jah
, but I promise that you can.”

She lifted the primer between them and he stood still. Then she looked deeply into his eyes. “And I promise that you can trust me, Jacob. I won’t let you fall.”

He stared at her, pain and indecision playing across his expressive face. Finally he swallowed. “I don’t … I don’t want you to find that your husband is a fool, Lilly. Not smart enough …”

Her heart melted at his words and she longed to embrace him but she stood, motionless.

“Jacob, you are so intelligent, so wise, and you could never be a fool. I promise. Please trust me. I will not let you fall.”

He took a deep breath. “I said I’d try. I’ll trust you.”

She felt a thrill of exultation and said a silent prayer to
Derr Herr
, asking Him for wisdom for the moment.

“
Gut. Danki
, Jacob. I won’t let you down.”

She stepped to the workbench and let her cloak slide onto one of the stools. “Okay, just right now, I want to ask you one question. One tutoring question.”

He moved closer to her and she could sense the tension in his body. She put out her hand to touch his, letting her fingers play over the rough calluses and long fingers, then sliding her hand up to his wrist and finding the pulse point, beating fast and steady. She sensed that he responded to physical touch, and she kept her hand on his skin until he’d inched beside her and they both stood into the circle of light from the lamp at the workbench. She put aside the primer and turned to him, moving her hand to delicately skim his bare forearm where his sleeve was rolled back.

“What’s the question?” he asked hoarsely.

She let her voice drop, infusing her tone with warmth like the permeating intimacy of a fledgling nest, feathers tight and close and safe.

“I want you to tell me how you feel about reading.”

H
e stared down at her, torn between the sensations of her touch, her voice, and her very odd question. “How I
feel
about reading?”

“Jah
.”

He cast about in his mind for some answering quip, something to deflect what he understood to be a direct question. He didn’t like to think about how he felt about reading, about how he felt about himself not reading. “I … don’t …”

Her hand had skimmed past the rolled cuff of his shirt and now played along the line of his upper arm. “Do you feel the same way about reading as you do about horses?”

“No,” he answered, appalled at the suggestion.

“So, how is it different?”

He swallowed hard, feeling cornered and unsure. But he’d promised to trust her. He expected her to trust him. And she touched him with such extreme gentleness—butterfly touches, but enough to send sensations tingling through his body.

“Jacob,
sei so gut
. How do you feel about reading?” She leaned closer to him until he had to blink or feel like he might drown in the deep blue of her eyes.

“I hate it,” he choked.

“I know,” she soothed. “Just like I hate the thought of riding—until you touch me, with your words, your hands. You said once that I didn’t have to do things alone. You don’t have to do this alone, Jacob. You don’t have to read alone. Okay?”

He nodded, feeling torn between sudden tears and kissing her, and he wasn’t sure which would have brought more relief when she dropped her hand and gave him a bright smile. She scooped up the primer and her cloak. “We’d best go home.”

He nodded. “I’ll be along.”

He stood still, taking deep breaths after she slid the barn door closed behind her. He decided then and there that if every tutoring session was like the one he’d just had, life was going to be one endless, delicious torment.

C
HAPTER 34

L
illy was at school early the first day back after the holidays. A little more than two weeks off was always more than enough for her, although she knew she’d miss seeing Jacob throughout the day. She glanced around the classroom with pleasure as she waited for the students to arrive. The school board had made sure, as it always did, that volunteers had come during the break to thoroughly clean the small building. The windows sparkled and new corkboard had been hung in convenient spots around the room.

As was her usual custom, Lilly had decorated one of the main boards with a “welcome back” image, this time a tree and large snowflakes. she’d found the idea in the never-ending resource of Amish teachers everywhere,
The Blackboard Bulletin
. She had carefully lettered each student’s name on one of the snow designs and was happy to have added Abel Beiler’s name to the rest of the class.

She’d heard that Grace Beiler and her son had moved in the previous day, and she guessed that the Zook children would probably stop by and have the boy walk with them to the schoolhouse. She’d just adjusted the world globe and was straightening some papers on her desk when steps sounded outside on the porch. She looked up as the back door opened, not expecting a student so soon.

Seth entered, hat in hands, and a strange expression on his face as a beautiful, petite Amish woman in a long cloak walked in behind him. She wore a black bonnet that framed her pale face, black hair, and, upon closer inspection, wide pansy-purple colored eyes and sooty lashes. A young boy peeped from behind her cloak folds.

Lilly stepped from behind her desk to greet them.

“Lilly, this is Grace Beiler, and her son, Abel. I … uh … was passing by and thought I’d help introduce you.” Seth sounded odd despite the warmth of his greeting.

Lilly extended her hand and shook the other woman’s cold fingers. She didn’t try to engage the child, who was obviously too shy to come forward, but smiled at his mother. Then she looked at Seth and the word
smitten
came to mind.

“Why, thank you, Seth. I think we’ll be fine from here.”

“Uh, right. I’d better get back to the farm. Mrs. Beiler, Abel, a pleasure. Lilly, have a
gut
day.” He slapped his hat on his head and seemed to shake himself, then made for the back door.

When he was gone, Lilly spoke softly.

“
Ach
, Mrs. Beiler. I’m so glad to meet you and to have you as part of our community. I hope you’ll be happy here.”

The woman smiled faintly, but Lilly noted the bruise-like shadows beneath her eyes and knew how difficult the move must have been in addition to the loss of her husband.

“Please, call me Grace. I … I wanted to talk with you about Abel before the other students came. I’m not sure what you’ve been told.”

Lilly’s lips parted. She didn’t like discussing things about children directly in front of them and was going to suggest that Abel go to the play yard when Grace gave a slight shake of her head. “I’d prefer to keep him here,” she said softly. “I don’t always know how he’ll react in new situations.”

Lilly nodded. “Since the accident with your husband, you mean?”

“No, always. Abel has a traumatic brain injury from birth and quite a few delays because of this. We—my husband and I—took him to the best neurologists in Philadelphia. He has issues with short-term memory loss, mental processing, and handwriting. But he is capable of learning, if you can reach him.” Her beautiful eyes scanned Lilly’s face. “I can tell by your expression that my letter didn’t get to your school board in time to explain—”

“Um … no … but that’s fine. Has he attended school before?”

“
Jah
, for a year and a term in Ohio. He was making progress somewhat but then my husband … well … we had to move. Would you feel more comfortable if I put him into one of the special schools? I’m told that Elk County has one.”

It was true, Lilly considered quickly, that there were schools for students among the Amish with unique needs or learning styles, but she felt convicted in her heart to give things a try with Abel Beiler.

“I’d like to try, Mrs… . Grace. And please, call me Lilly.” She smiled as the other woman’s face cleared.
She really is remarkably beautiful
, Lilly thought. And there was no guessing her age. She somehow appeared both young and old at the same time. “Perhaps you might come in for another conference later this week and give me some more details about his medical and academic history.”

“Thank you, Lilly, I will.” She pulled a small metal bucket from beneath her cloak, then turned to press it into Abel’s hand. “I’ve brought your lunch pail.” She knelt beside her son, and Lilly got her first clear look at the boy’s face.

He was small and as fair-skinned as his mother; his eyes, too, were hers—wide violet blue, with a feathering of dark brows. He had a worried pucker about his lips and his small chin quivered as his mother murmured to him. She kissed his cheek, hugged him hard, and rose to smile at Lilly.

“I work from home—quilting—and I’m only a half mile away. If there are any problems …”

“Please don’t worry, Grace. We’ll be fine. He’ll have a good day.”

The woman nodded and slipped from her son’s grasp, hurrying back down the aisle and out the door.

Abel sank to the floor as if devastated and hugged his arms around himself, rocking back and forth. Lilly decided to let him be; he was obviously self-soothing and that was good.

She went about her classroom preparations, keeping up a gentle flow of conversation to which the child didn’t respond. She pointed out his seat and his name on the snowflake on the wall and then went to the back of the room to greet the other students as they began to file in.

“Children, we have a new student. Abel Beiler. Please say hello.”

Reuben Mast frowned as he sidled past the still rocking boy to get to his seat. “What be wrong with him, teacher?”

“What
is
wrong, and the answer is nothing. Abel will just learn differently than some of us do. And …” Her gaze swept the room of quiet students, now assembled. “I expect you all to give him the help and care he may need to become adjusted to being in a new school and new home. Do you all understand?” Her tone was warning, but her eyes were expectant, hopeful. She saw the older students catch on by their nods. “Good. Then let’s proceed.”

“Since we all made it through the Christmas program, we’ll now return to our regular schedule. I’ll start off this morning by reading from the Bible. Let’s see …” She went to her desk, walking around Abel, and picked up her Bible.

“I’ve chosen Isaiah 45:3 to begin the New Year. ‘I will give you the treasures of darkness, And hidden wealth of secret places, So that you may know that it is I, The Lord, the God of Israel, who calls you by your name.’” She closed the Bible. “Who can tell me what that means?” She waited expectantly, raising a brow at her older students.