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His Amish Teacher
Patricia Davids
The Teacher's ChoiceFor Lillian Keim, instructing children in her one-room schoolhouse is as close to being a mother as she’ll ever get. Lillian has a calling to be a teacher, and she won't give it up to marry. But her plans—and her heart—are at risk when she begins to feel more than friendship for lifelong pal Timothy Bowman. When Tim rescues Lillian and her class from a fire, the volunteer firefighter suddenly sees what he's been blind to all his life: he wants his friend as his wife. But something beyond her professional goals is holding Lillian back. He's got to unlock her secret before he loses his friend—and his forever love.The Amish Bachelors: These men finally meet their matches


The Teacher’s Choice
For Lillian Keim, instructing children in her one-room schoolhouse is as close to being a mother as she’ll ever get. Lillian has a calling to be a teacher, and she won’t give it up to marry. But her plans—and her heart—are at risk when she begins to feel more than friendship for lifelong pal Timothy Bowman. When Tim rescues Lillian and her class from a fire, the volunteer firefighter suddenly sees what he’s been blind to all his life: he wants his friend as his wife. But something beyond her professional goals is holding Lillian back. He’s got to unlock her secret before he loses his friend—and his forever love.
“Do you have a mother in mind for your future children?”
She was teasing him, but she had heard a bit of gossip about him and wondered if it was true.
He shook a finger at her. “Lillian Keim, you’re prying.”
“I hear you have a come-calling friend.” She named the woman, but he explained he’d just given her a lift home. She was glad he wasn’t seeing anyone. But why? she asked herself. They were just friends. Right?
A gleam sparkled in the depths of his eyes. “Would you be jealous if I were going out with her, Teacher?”
Trust him to turn the tables on her. “Of course not, but after what you said to my students today, I’ll be answering many questions as to who my new ‘boyfriend’ is.”
He frowned. “Do you really think so? I didn’t mean to make trouble.”
“When people start asking, I’m going to tell everyone it’s you.”
He pressed his hands over his heart. “Teacher, don’t get my hopes up unless you mean it.”
After thirty-five years as a nurse, PATRICIA DAVIDS hung up her stethoscope to become a full-time writer. She enjoys spending her free time visiting her grandchildren, doing some long-overdue yard work and traveling to research her story locations. She resides in Wichita, Kansas. Pat always enjoys hearing from her readers. You can visit her online at patriciadavids.com (http://www.patriciadavids.com).
Dear Reader (#uf0d84b86-fd7b-521a-a699-03b0dffb05c2),
I hope you have enjoyed this new story in the Amish Bachelors series. The Bowman brothers have all been fun to write about. I have used my four brothers as inspiration for many of their quirks and conversations.
The story of the arsonist in this book was inspired by true events. In 1993 the grandson of an Amish bishop was arrested and charged with setting fires to multiple Amish farms in one night. As with my story, the damage was too costly for the Amish community to absorb. After a newspaper article detailed their struggles, donations poured in for them to the point that they had to return some money.
People are basically good, be they Amish or English. As Lillian said, every man has good and bad within him.
Blessing to all,


His Amish Teacher
Patricia Davids


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Bear ye one another’s burdens,
and so fulfill the law of Christ.
—Galatians 6:2
This book is dedicated to the memory
of Joan Stroda. Heaven gained a dear and
wonderful angel when she left this earth.
Miss you, Mom. Love you still.
Contents
Cover (#uff3155a3-a310-5707-a050-9af055a11b48)
Back Cover Text (#u021a1fcf-68d4-53d5-96f6-84ebebc2bf2c)
Introduction (#uc5c67ed8-dd02-5c2a-bfcc-d30bce50e528)
About the Author (#u1c9e0916-3334-5bfa-a210-ab2f99110e44)
Dear Reader (#u5033e0c7-d5e4-5dac-9ad1-a3d811fa60da)
Title Page (#u84e0a8b0-bd54-5b36-8d63-cd89419ef3a8)
Bible Verse (#u42245fda-2253-5393-9163-5d27ac1cf86e)
Dedication (#uf09f2c45-d4dc-56a3-b688-b5bc849a55e1)
Chapter One (#u830d0ca8-038d-57aa-9301-8e47d23faed0)
Chapter Two (#uf51e1d20-3c2f-5941-b69e-df2aee958629)
Chapter Three (#uc1b41dd1-5c50-58f6-8996-240252aa8b7f)
Chapter Four (#ue6b763e5-df38-518c-afa5-8efa4f7b1df9)
Chapter Five (#u0cdd58f1-ad29-591b-87d1-688f283c5a8c)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#uf0d84b86-fd7b-521a-a699-03b0dffb05c2)
“We all know Teacher Lillian is a terrible cook, don’t we, children?”
Lillian Keim’s students erupted into giggles and some outright laugher. She crossed her arms and pressed her lips together to hold back a smile.
Timothy Bowman winked at her to take any sting out of his comment, but she wasn’t offended. They had been friends for ages and were members of the same Amish community in Bowmans Crossing, Ohio. She knew he enjoyed a good joke as well as the next fellow, but he was deadly serious about his job today and so was she. The lessons they were presenting might one day prevent a tragedy.
He stood in front of her class on the infield of the softball diamond behind the one-room Amish schoolhouse where she taught all eight grades. Dressed in full fireman’s turnout gear, Timothy made an impressive figure. The coat and pants added bulk to his slender frame, but he carried the additional weight with ease. His curly brown hair was hidden under a yellow helmet instead of his usual straw hat, but his hazel eyes sparkled with mirth. A smile lifted one side of his mouth and deepened the dimples in his tanned cheeks. Timothy smiled a lot. It was one reason she liked him.
His bulky fire coat and pants with bright fluorescent yellow banding weren’t Plain clothing, but their Amish church district approved their use because the church elders and the bishop recognized the need for Amish volunteers to help fill the ranks of the local non-Amish fire company. The county fire marshal understood the necessity of special education in the Amish community where open flames and gas lanterns were used regularly. The Amish didn’t allow electricity in their homes. Biannual fire-safety classes were held at all the local Amish schools. This was Timothy’s first time giving the class. With Lillian’s permission, he was deviating from the normal script with a demonstration outside. Timothy wanted to make an impression on the children. She admired that.
It was another unusually warm day for the last week of September. It had been a dry, hotter than usual summer. Timothy had chosen the bare dirt of the infield with an eye to safety rather than setting up on the brown grass of the lawn that could catch fire. The children were seated on the ground in a semicircle facing him. Only two of her older students, cousins Abe and Gabriel Mast, weren’t paying attention. Abe was elbowing his cousin and the two were snickering and whispering behind their hands.
A red car sped past the school, and the driver laid on the horn. Abe jumped to his feet and waved wildly. The car didn’t slow down.
Lillian did a double take. Was that her brother Jeremiah in the front passenger seat? Surely not. The vehicle rounded the sharp bend in the road and was gone from sight before she could be certain.
Abe grinned from ear to ear and kept jumping. “That’s Davey’s new ride. He’s gonna teach me to drive, too. I want to go fast, fast, fast!”
Davey Mast was Abe’s eldest brother. Davey had chosen to leave the Amish faith after his baptism and had been shunned for his decision. He had taken a job with a local Englisch farmer instead of leaving the area as most young people did when they didn’t remain Amish. Lillian hoped her brother hadn’t been in the car. If he had been, Jeremiah ran the risk of being shunned, too.
Abe ran toward the road. She called him back. “Abe, come sit down.”
He ignored her.
“You need to pay attention. This is important.” Timothy spoke sharply and leveled a stern look at Abe. The boy sheepishly returned to the group and sat down. Lillian wished she could use the look with the same effectiveness.
Timothy turned to a long table he had fashioned from wooden planks on a pair of sawhorses. A propane cook stove in the center held two pans that were both smoking hot. Various household items were arranged along the table, and a large pail of water sat on the ground in front of the table along with a red fire extinguisher.
He carefully carried one pan to the end of the table. Using a long-handled lighter, he clicked it once and the pan burst into flames. He looked at the children. “Let’s pretend Teacher Lillian is frying chicken and a pan full of hot grease catches fire when no one else is around. What should you do?”
“Throw water on it,” little Carl Mast shouted. The second grader was Abe’s youngest brother.
“Carl says water will put out the fire. Let’s see if that works.” Timothy picked up a glass and filled it with water from a bucket beside the table. He flipped down the face shield of his helmet and tossed the liquid onto the skillet.
With a wild hiss and roar, the fire shot skyward in a flaming mushroom eight feet high. All the children drew back with wide frightened eyes. Lillian jumped, too. She wasn’t expecting such a fireball. Puddles of burning grease dotted the ground.
Timothy lifted his face shield and looked at Carl. “Water isn’t the right thing for putting out a grease fire, is it?”
Carl slowly shook his head, his eyes still wide.
Timothy used the extinguisher to put out the fires; then he lit the second pan ablaze with his lighter. “What is a safe way to put out a grease fire like this? Gabriel, Abe? What would you do? Quick. What’s in the kitchen that will help?”
“I’d run outside and watch the whole thing go up in smoke,” Abe said with a smirk, and elbowed his cousin. Gabriel nodded.
Timothy’s eyes narrowed. “Not a very good answer, Abe. This isn’t a joking matter.”
“I’d get the fire extinguisher,” Gabriel said quickly.
Timothy pointed to him. “Goot. Where is it kept in your home?”
A puzzled expression replaced Gabriel’s grin. “I’m not sure.”
Lillian calmly walked to the table. “A fine bunch of firefighters you are if you can’t put out a simple grease fire without help.”
She picked up a dish towel, soaked it with water and gently draped it over the pan. The fire was instantly smothered. The children cheered.
Timothy nodded in appreciation. “I see Teacher Lillian has had lots of practice putting out her burning chicken. She did it the correct way. She smothered it. How else could she have smothered a grease fire?”
The children began calling out suggestions. He acknowledged each answer with a nod and a comment if it was a good suggestion. If it wasn’t, he explained why. As he spoke, Lillian noticed he held the attention of all the children now. He had a knack for engaging them.
Timothy laid aside his lighter. “Now let’s imagine that Teacher is burning leaves in the fall and she sees her boo-friend driving past.” Again, the children giggled.
Lillian scowled at him, not amused this time. Timothy continued speaking. “She is so busy waving at him that she doesn’t notice the hem of her dress has caught fire.”
Sending him a sour look, she said, “I don’t have a boyfriend, but I would certainly wave if one of my scholars were to pass by my home.”
He wiped the grin off his face. “All right, one of your students has distracted you and now your hem is on fire.”
She raised her arms in mock horror and shouted, “This is terrible! Help!”
“What should she do?” Timothy cupped one hand to his ear and leaned toward the children.
“Stop, drop and roll,” the group yelled.
Lillian covered her face with both hands, dropped to the ground and rolled back and forth. She lifted her hand from her face and squinted at Timothy. “Did I do that right?”
He looked at the children. “Scholars, did Teacher Lillian do it correctly?”
“Ja!” they shouted in unison.
He held out his hand to help her up, his eyes sparkling. “Exactly right, Teacher.”
She took his offered hand. His firm grip sent an unexpected rush of pleasure spiraling through her. As soon as she was on her feet, she pulled her hand from his and brushed at her dusty dress. “Next time you can do the stop, drop and roll while I ask the questions.”
He grinned. “But you did it so well. You were far more graceful than I could ever be.”
Turning to the children, she said, “Let’s all thank Timothy for taking the time to teach us about fire safety.”
“Thank you, Timothy,” they said in unison.
Hannah added, “Danki, Onkel Timothy.” Hannah was the stepdaughter of Timothy’s brother, Joshua. Lillian tried hard not to have favorites, but she couldn’t help it where Hannah was concerned.
“We only speak English at school, Hannah,” Lillian reminded her.
Hannah ducked her head. “Sorry, Teacher. I forgot. Thank you, Uncle Timothy.”
Lillian softened her tone. “It’s all right. Sometimes I forget, too. Now, let’s review some of the points Timothy made. Susan, can you tell us how often to change the batteries in our smoke detectors?”
“Twice a year, and the detectors should be replaced if they are more than seven years old,” the eighth-grade girl said quickly, proving she had been listening. Susan Yoder was one of Lillian’s best students. The girl hoped to become a teacher someday.
Lillian gestured to Timothy’s niece in the front row. “Hannah, what are some ways to prevent fires?”
Hannah wasn’t a bit shy. She shot to her feet. “Don’t ever play with matches. I don’t, but Carl does.”
Seated beside Hannah, the young boy leaned away from her and scowled. “Not anymore.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Timothy said, a smile twitching at the corner of his lips.
Lillian raised her hand. “How many of you have practiced a fire escape plan with your family at home?” Nearly all the students raised their hands. Abe didn’t and neither did his little brother Carl.
“All right, I want you to go inside, take out a piece of paper and draw a diagram of your home. I want you to show at least two ways to escape from the house in the event of a fire and mark where your meeting place is outside. Siblings may work together on the project.”
The children rose and filed toward the school. Lillian stopped Susan. The girl served as Lillian’s much-needed teacher’s aide. “Will you help Hannah with this project? She doesn’t have older siblings.”
“Sure.” Susan smiled and followed the others.
Abe shoved past Hannah, almost knocking her down when they reached the steps at the same time.
“Sorry,” he said quickly, but he didn’t sound remorseful in the least. He caught Gabriel’s eye and whispered something to him. They both laughed as they went in.
Timothy moved to stand beside Lillian. “I noticed the son of our school board president is a bit of a troublemaker.”
“Abe is, but I don’t treat him differently because of his father.”
Silas Mast, the school board president, had brushed aside her concerns about Abe’s behavior when she tried to speak to him about it. His lack of support was making it more difficult to handle the boy.
Lillian watched until the last student entered the building; then she whirled to face Timothy with her hands on her hips. “What possessed you to suggest in front of my students that I have a boyfriend?”
He looked taken aback. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I was making a point that you were distracted.”
“You should have chosen better.”
“Are you upset with me?”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Ja, Timothy Bowman, I’m upset with you.”
He relaxed. “Nee, you aren’t. I can tell by the look in your eyes.”
“How do my eyes look when I’m upset?” she demanded.
“Frosty.”
Did he really know her so well? “And how do they look now?”
“Like you’re trying to be serious, but you’re smiling inside.”
He was right, but she wasn’t about to admit it.
He leaned one hip against the table. “How did I do for my first time giving a program?”
“Very well. You clearly have a knack for teaching.”
“Danki. I tried to think about what I would say to my own children.”
“Do you have a mother in mind for them?” she asked with false sweetness, knowing he was a single fellow. She had heard a bit of gossip about him and wondered if it was true. Courting relationships were often closely guarded secrets in the Amish community.
He shook a finger at her. “Lillian Keim, you’re prying.”
She spread her hands wide. “You brought up the subject of children.”
“I want a wife and children someday. I pray I will have sons to work beside me in our business as I have worked beside my father. I hope I may teach all my children to be good and faithful members of our church.” His voice had grown soft. Lillian realized he was sharing something important with her.
“I hope God answers your prayers.” A family of her own was something she would never have.
He tipped his head to the side as he regarded her. “What about you? How many children do you want?”
She gave a laugh but knew it sounded forced. “I have forty-one children to care for. That’s more than enough. There will be forty-four next month because we have a new family transferring to our school. I hope the school board approves the hiring of a second teacher when they meet next Friday. I’m not sure I can manage that many.”
“Still, you must want children of your own someday.”
That wasn’t possible. Only her parents knew about the surgery that had saved her life but left her barren. She’d never told anyone else. She didn’t want pity. God had chosen this path for her. It wasn’t an easy one, but she would do her best to live as He willed.
She drew a steadying breath and raised her chin. “Every morning I wake up and think about these children waiting for me and I can’t wait to get here. I thank God every day and night for leading me to this work. I love it. Are you shocked that I want a career instead of a family?”
“Nee, I’m not. Luke mentioned as much to me.”
“You and your brother were talking about me?”
“It was last Christmas. Luke thought the reason I was helping with the school program was that I wanted to court you. He decided to become my unofficial go-between and have Emma find out if you would be interested in dating me. Emma told him you were devoted to teaching and not looking to marry. He relayed that to me.”
“And was that the reason behind your offer to help at the school?”
Timothy shook his head. “You and the kinder needed help. Friends help friends.”
A touch of disappointment pricked her, but she quickly suppressed it. She valued his friendship. Any sign of romantic attachment from either of them would make their friendship awkward and could bring censure down on her. As a teacher, she was expected to be a model of proper behavior. “Your help made the program extra special. Danki.”
He shrugged off her praise. “I didn’t do much.”
Now it was her turn to tease him. Checking to make sure they wouldn’t be overheard, she leaned closer. “I understand you are Nellie Martin’s come-calling friend. Is it serious?”
His eyebrows shot up. “What? Who told you that?”
“You were seen driving together last Sunday evening.”
“I passed Nellie walking along the road after visiting her sister and I gave her a lift home because I was going the same way. That’s all. I’m not her come-calling friend or anyone else’s, for that matter.”
“See how easily rumors get started?” She was glad he wasn’t seeing anyone. When he did find the right woman, Lillian knew their friendship would change.
A gleam sparkled in the depths of his eyes. He leaned toward her. “Would you be jealous if I were going out with her, Teacher?”
Trust him to turn the tables on her. “Of course not, but rumors will soon circulate that I have a new boo-friend.”
“Why?”
“Because these forty-one students will go home and repeat what they learned today. Some of them will fail to mention you were teasing about my boyfriend. By Sunday after the prayer meeting I’ll be answering carefully worded questions from many curious mothers as they try to figure out who he might be.”
A frown line appeared on his forehead. “Do you really think so? I didn’t mean to make trouble.”
“I know small children and the way they can mix up the simplest things. When people start asking, I’m going to tell everyone it’s you.”
He pressed his hands over his heart. “Teacher, don’t get my hopes up unless you mean it.”
It was her turn to frown. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“I would be your boo-friend in a heartbeat. May I come courting?”
Chapter Two (#uf0d84b86-fd7b-521a-a699-03b0dffb05c2)
Timothy watched an array of fleeting expressions cross Lillian’s delicate face. Surprise, dismay and finally skepticism narrowed her green eyes. He would cheerfully snatch back his words if he could. She had to know he was joking, didn’t she? Had he gone too far this time?
Her eyes narrowed. “Where is that bucket of water? You need to soak your head.”
“Is that any way to talk to the man you’re dating?”
She jabbed her finger into his chest. “I’m too smart to go out with you, and it’s nothing to joke about.”
“You are right. Courting and marriage are not joking matters.” Relieved that he hadn’t truly upset her, he turned the conversation in a safer direction. “What did you think of the book I lent you?”
Her tense shoulders relaxed at his change of subject. “I haven’t had time to sit down with it yet.”
“Teacher hasn’t finished her homework. Shame on you.”
“I do have papers to grade and lessons to prepare.”
“I will accept that excuse today, but I’m dying to know if you find the story as funny as I did. The main character reminded me of you.”
“I thought you said it was about a dog.”
“It is. A lovable, devoted dog who believes she knows what’s best for every creature in the barnyard. Truly, it’s a great book with an excellent message.”
“So I’m like a bossy dog, is that what you are saying?”
She rolled her eyes, and he chuckled. He enjoyed teasing Lillian. They had been close friends when they were younger, drawn together by a love of books and reading. He cherished the hours they had spent discussing the works of Dickens, Henry David Thoreau and the stories of their persecuted Amish ancestors in The Martyr’s Mirror. His love of reading was something his brothers never understood.
Lillian and her family had moved away the summer he turned eighteen. He’d lost touch with her for a few years, but he never forgot the way she made him feel. The Amish valued hard work. Book learning had its place, but few people understood his desire to read and learn more about the world the way Lillian did.
When she returned to the area after six years away, he had been delighted but his first efforts to rekindle their friendship had been rebuffed. Lillian had changed while she was away. She had become remote and reserved. It had taken a great deal of patience on his part to repair the bond between them.
Besides helping with the Christmas program, he had done what handiwork was needed at the school without being asked. He sometimes bought books for the school library and occasionally suggested a new novel he thought she might like. His diligence over the course of the winter had slowly thawed her reserve. Now that they were enjoying an easy comradery again, he would do his best to keep it that way.
“Looks like you have a visitor,” he said, gesturing to the road where a white car was pulling up to a stop on the narrow road in front of the school.
Lillian shaded her eyes as she gazed that way. A young woman got out of the car. She went to the back and opened the trunk.
“Do you know her?” Timothy asked.
“I had a letter from the public health department telling me Miss Debra Merrick would be here to do health screenings on the children today.”
The woman closed the trunk of her car and picked up two large black cases.
“I’d better go help her with those bags. They look heavy.”
He judged Debra to be near his age, somewhere in her midtwenties. She was dressed modern in a simple blue skirt and a white blouse with lace at her throat. Her black shoes were low-heeled and sensible, but they sported shiny buckles that wouldn’t be acceptable in his Plain community. Her blond hair was cut short and floated in curls around her face.
He glanced at Lillian. Amish women never cut their hair. They kept it covered beneath a white prayer kapp like the one Lillian wore. The white ribbons of her bonnet fluttered softly in the breeze and drew his gaze to the slender curve of her neck. What would her hair look like if she wore it down? He could imagine it spilling in rich brown waves down her back. Would it reach the floor? He jerked his gaze away. It wasn’t proper to think such thoughts about a friend. He focused on the woman beside the car.
“Can I give you a hand with those?” he asked as he and Lillian drew near.
“Thank you. That’s very kind.” She put the cases down and smiled sweetly as she tucked a curl behind her ear.
Lillian held out her hand. “I’m Lillian Keim, the teacher here. This is Timothy Bowman.”
“I’m Debra Merrick.” The woman shook hands with both of them.
“I was expecting you early this morning,” Lillian said.
Debra flushed a rosy shade of pink. “I’m afraid I got lost on these winding rural roads. Twice.”
Timothy began undoing his coat. “It happens. We aren’t exactly in the middle of nowhere, but you can see it from here.”
Debra’s gaze carried a hint of gratitude for his understanding. She gestured toward the smoking pans on the table. “Has there been a fire?”
He chuckled as he pulled his helmet off and combed his fingers through his damp curls. “Only a fire safety demonstration. I’ll bring your cases up to the school once I shed this gear.”
He stepped over to his wagon, undid the heavy coat and tossed it along with his helmet on the wooden bench seat. He picked up his straw hat and settled it on his head.
Turning around, he saw Miss Merrick watching him with a look of surprise on her face. “You’re Amish? I didn’t know the Amish could be firemen.”
He laughed heartily. “Then I reckon there’s a lot you don’t know about us Amish folk.”
She gave him a sheepish smile. “I’m afraid that’s true. My family has some Amish ancestry, but this is my first visit to Amish country and my first Amish school to visit.”
“We are more than farmers and quilters. You’ll find we’re a lot like everyone else if you take the time to get to know us,” he added.
“I’m always willing to learn new things, and I like getting to know new people.”
He nodded once. “Goot.”
Debra tipped her head to the side. “What does that mean?”
“It means good. It’s Pennsylvania Deitsch. You might have heard it called Pennsylvania Dutch, although it’s not Dutch at all. It’s an old German dialect.”
Her smile widened. “Goot. I’ll remember that. Thank you for teaching me something new today, Mr. Bowman.”
She seemed like a sweet woman. “Call me Timothy.”
“All right, Timothy.”
Lillian stepped between them and shot him a stern, frosty look before she turned to Debra. “Come up to the school and meet the children, Miss Merrick. They’ve been waiting for you.”
Timothy stared after Lillian in puzzlement. What was that look for?
* * *
Lillian resisted the urge to grab Timothy by the collar and shake him. Didn’t he realize the woman was boldly flirting with him and that he was encouraging her? Outsiders were to be dealt with cautiously. Timothy’s behavior bordered on prideful. Being forward or asserting oneself in any way was contrary to their church’s teachings and he knew that.
Once they were inside the school, she directed Debra to a table at the back of the room to set up her equipment. Timothy placed the cases next to it. Lillian welcomed the health screening and other educational health programs presented by the local public health department. Each year her students received dental and eye exams as well as hearing screenings and classes on the hazards of tobacco use and smoking, all free of charge.
Debra looked over the room and spoke softly to Lillian. “I’m afraid I’m not going to get all the children done today. I don’t want to keep them after school. Would it be all right if I return tomorrow?”
“That won’t be a problem. School starts at eight o’clock.”
Debra let out a sigh of relief. “That will be great. Now that I know the way, I should be here on time. On a personal note, I was hoping to purchase some authentic Amish-made gifts for my friends back home. Can you suggest somewhere to shop locally?”
“My mother runs a gift shop just over the river,” Timothy said. “You passed it before you came through the covered bridge. You’ll find everything there is reasonably priced and all handmade. If you’d like to see some Amish-made furniture, I’d be happy to show you around my father’s woodworking shop.”
“I’d like that very much. I’ll stop by after I finish here tomorrow.”
“Great. I’ll see you then.”
“Maybe you can teach me a few more Amish words.” She gave him a sly smile and a wink.
“I’ve recently been told I have a knack for teaching.”
He looked so smug that Lillian was tempted to kick his shin. She forced herself to remain polite. “We should let Miss Merrick get to work, Timothy. I’ll help you clean up outside.”
“It was nice meeting you, Debra.” He nodded to her and went out the door. Lillian followed him to the makeshift table and checked the pans to see if they were cool enough to handle.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing’s wrong.” Was it her place to correct his behavior? Her father would say it was.
“You’ve been giving me your frosty stare ever since Miss Merrick arrived.”
“If you want to make puppy eyes at the Englisch lady, I’m sure it’s none of my business.”
He frowned as he snatched up the water pail. “I wasn’t making puppy eyes at her.”
“Ha! If you had a tail, it would have been wagging a mile a minute the second she smiled at you.”
“How can you say that?”
“I say it because it’s true.”
“I was being nice. She seems like a very pleasant lady. Which is more than I can say for you at the moment.” He threw the water out, picked up the fire extinguisher and headed for his wagon.
Lillian nibbled on the corner of her lip as she watched him stomp away. He was right. She wasn’t being pleasant, and she had no right to chastise him. He hadn’t broken any church rules. Friendliness with outsiders wasn’t forbidden, just discouraged. She wasn’t sure why it upset her to see him so at ease with the woman.
Timothy came back and carried a pair of sawhorses past her without comment. He set them in the back of the wagon. It was clear he was upset with her and that wasn’t like Timothy.
“I’m sorry if I offended you,” she said.
“You have.” He brushed past her to pick up the last of the boards and carried them to the wagon, too. He threw them in and they clattered loudly. The horses shifted uneasily at the noise but quickly settled at a low word from him.
Lillian took a step closer. “I’m only looking out for your best interests. Your behavior could be seen as forward and unacceptable. I’m sorry if pointing that out makes you angry.”
He leaned a hip against the wagon and folded his arms over his chest as he fixed his gaze on her face. “That you judge my behavior to be forward and unacceptable is what makes me angry. I thought you knew me well enough to know I wouldn’t flirt with any woman, let alone someone who didn’t share our faith.”
She clutched her arms tight across her chest. “I do know that.”
“Then why accuse me of it?”
She stared at her feet and tried to put her feelings into words. “You smiled at her.”
“I smile at everyone.”
“I know, but she smiled back. I saw that look in her eyes.”
“What are you talking about? What look?”
Lillian glanced at his handsome face. “The look that said she was interested in getting to know you better. A lot better.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “I’m not responsible for the way someone looks at me.”
“I saw the attraction between the two of you. Such feelings can lead you down a forbidden path.”
He threw his hands in the air. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this. I had no idea you thought I was so weak-minded.”
“I don’t.” The last thing she wanted was for him to be angry with her.
“Your words say otherwise, Lillian.”
He climbed in his wagon. With a slap of the reins, he headed his horses down the road, leaving her to watch his rapidly retreating figure and regret her ill-advised comments. They’d never had a disagreement, let alone an argument like this.
Had she damaged their friendship beyond repair?
Chapter Three (#uf0d84b86-fd7b-521a-a699-03b0dffb05c2)
Drawing a deep calming breath, Lillian returned to the schoolroom determined to be pleasant to Miss Merrick. She would apologize to Timothy soon. Perhaps she could think of an excuse to visit the Bowman household after school tonight and find a way to speak to Timothy alone. And then again, maybe she was being foolish. Their friendship was surely strong enough to weather one disagreement. Wasn’t it? She didn’t need to run after him and beg his forgiveness.
Inside the school, she helped Debra set up the eye charts. Together, they taped off the correct distance on the floor where the children were to stand. Suddenly, the outside door burst open, and Lillian’s little sister Amanda raced in.
Spying Lillian, the four-year-old dashed across the room and threw her arms around Lillian’s legs. “Shveshtah, I koom to visit you at schule. Teach me something?”
Tiny for her age, Amanda had been born with dwarfism. Her arms and legs were short, but her body was near normal in size. Her blond hair was fine and straight as wheat straw with wisps of it peeking from beneath her white kapp.
Lillian scooped the child up in her arms and settled her at her hip. “The first thing my scholars learn is to be quiet in the classroom. No shouting. No running.”
Amanda’s smile faded. “I was bad, wasn’t I?”
Lillian nodded. “A little.”
The outside door opened again and Lillian’s father, Eldon Keim, came in, his face set in stern lines. Something must be wrong.
Miss Merrick gave Amanda a bright smile. “Is this your daughter?”
“Amanda is my sister.” Lillian introduced her father to Miss Merrick.
“I’m very pleased to meet you, Mr. Keim, and you, Amanda.” Debra held out her hand to the child.
Amanda shyly shook it.
Debra’s smile widened. “I have a brother who is a little person. His name is Brandon. He has cartilage-hair hypoplasia.”
A rush of empathy caused Lillian to look kindly at Debra. Here was someone who understood the challenging life her little sister faced. “That is exactly what Amanda has.”
“I mentioned my family has Amish ancestors. I’m sure you know CCH is one of the more common types of dwarfism among the Amish. I wish Brandon could meet Amanda. He loves children, especially little-people children. He and his wife have adopted two children with dwarfism. He’s a professor of agriculture at Ohio Central University. I know that sounds like a stuffy job, but he’s not a bit stuffy.”
Her father spoke quietly in Pennsylvania Dutch. “I’m going into town. Your mother said you needed something.”
“Ja, I have two library books that are due back today. Can you drop them off for me?” It would save her a long walk this evening. Bless her mother for thinking of it.
“Fetch them quickly.”
She put Amanda down, hurried to her desk and returned with both volumes. “Danki.”
He scanned the titles and frowned. “Are these proper reading for an Amish woman?”
Lillian was glad he’d kept the conversation in Pennsylvania Deitsch. It stung that he didn’t trust her judgment, but as a minister of the church, he had to make sure his family obeyed the Ordnung, the rules of the church. The books were teaching guides for elementary science, a subject she struggled to understand and teach. “They were recommended to me at the last teachers’ conference I attended. What’s wrong, Daed?”
He tucked the books under his arm. “I received a letter today from my sister in Wisconsin. My onkel Albert is gravely ill and wishes to see me. We are leaving tonight. I must speak with the bishop and let him know I won’t be preaching with him on Sunday.”
“I’m so sorry. Is Amanda going with you?”
“Nee, your mother and I think it best she stay at home with you and Jeremiah. Can she spend the rest of the afternoon with you today?”
Lillian winked at Amanda. “She isn’t old enough to start school.”
“If it is a problem, she can come with me to the bishop’s home,” he said.
Amanda’s eyes widened, and she shook her head. The bishop was a kindly man, but his stern countenance and booming voice had frightened the child once and she remained leery of him.
Planting her hands on her hips, Lillian pretended to consider the situation, then finally nodded and smiled. “Ja, she can stay with me.”
After her father left, Debra took a tentative step closer. “Is something wrong?”
Realizing Debra hadn’t understood their exchange, Lillian explained. “My father has been called to his uncle’s deathbed in Wisconsin. He and my mother must make arrangements to travel there as soon as possible.”
“They can’t go that far by horse and buggy, can they?”
“They will hire a driver to take them. We are not allowed to own cars, but we are not forbidden to ride in them. Many local people earn extra money by driving their Amish neighbors when there is a need.”
“I see. I’m sorry your father’s uncle is so ill.” Debra laid a hand on Lillian’s shoulder. Lillian was surprised by the sincere sympathy in her eyes.
“He has lived a long full life.” Lillian recalled with fondness her great-uncle’s gnarled hands and his toothless grin. He kept a tall glass jar by his chair and he always had a licorice twist to share with her and his many grandchildren and great-grandchildren. It was sad to think of his passing, but she knew he was ready to go home.
Debra stepped back. “I should get to work. Will the children have trouble understanding me? I know you speak a different language.”
“Only the youngest will have trouble. Start with the upper grades today. They have all had eye exams before.”
Lillian settled Amanda on a seat by her desk and gave her several picture books to look at while she finished grading the spelling tests from the day before. Debra was only halfway through the eye exams when it was time to dismiss for the day.
Lillian looked out over the classroom. “Put your books away and quietly get your coats.”
Abe and Gabriel rushed to the cloakroom and then dashed out the door before she could stop them. She couldn’t very well chase after them. She would have to deal with their disrespectful attitude tomorrow. This couldn’t continue.
She walked to the door and held it open. “Children, you are dismissed.”
The rest of the children filed outside in an orderly manner that lasted only until they reached the final step on the porch. After that, they bolted like young colts being let out to pasture. Childish laughter and shouts filled the air as they said goodbye to each other and to her. For Lillian, there was always a sense of relief followed by a small letdown when they were gone from her sight. They were hers for seven hours each day, but none of them belonged to her.
Thankfully, she had Amanda. Her baby sister was as close as Lillian would ever come to having a child of her own. She looked toward her desk and saw Amanda was sharing her picture book with Debra.
“What is this?” Debra asked, pointing to the page. She had taken a seat on the floor by the child’s chair.
Amanda said, “Dess ist ein gaul.”
“Gaul. That must mean horse. Am I right?” Debra looked to Lillian for confirmation. She nodded.
“And this?” Debra pointed to the page again.
“Hund.”
“So dog is hund.”
Amanda grinned and turned the page. She pointed and said, “Hohna.”
“Chicken is hohna.” Debra giggled as she stumbled over the unfamiliar word.
“Hohna means rooster.” Lillian sat in her chair and scooted closer to Amanda so she could see the pictures, too.
Amanda pointed to the drawing of a hen sitting on a nest of straw. “Glukk.”
“That has got to mean chicken.” Debra glanced at Lillian.
“Not exactly. It means a sitting hen, one who lays eggs.”
“Goot, glukk, hohna, hund, gaul. Good, sitting hen, rooster, dog, horse. I’ve learned a pocketful of new words today. Thank you, Amanda. I shall thoroughly impress Mr. Bowman with my new vocabulary when I see him tomorrow.”
Lillian’s smile faded. She spoke quietly in Deitsch to her sister. “Put your things away. You may go outside and play on the swings until I’m ready to go home.”
The child got up without further prompting. She put her colors and book away, and headed out the door.
“She’s very sweet,” Debra said.
“She is a great blessing to me and to my entire family.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that. Children with special needs aren’t always seen as a blessing.” Debra’s tone held a touch of bitterness that surprised Lillian.
“The Amish believe handicapped children are extraordinary gifts from God. A family with such a child faces difficulties, yes, but they know God has smiled upon them in a very special way.”
“I wish my family held such a belief. My father saw my brother as a burden and wondered what he had done wrong to be cursed with a deformed son.”
“I’m sorry for your father. I pray he comes to see the error in his way of thinking.”
“He passed away a few years ago. I think in the end he came to accept Brandon as a gift, but growing up, my brother faced prejudices from inside and outside of our home. I’m amazed he has turned out as normal and happy as he seems to be.”
“We have a proverb about our children. The more a child is valued, the better his values will be.”
“You are making me sorry my great-great-grandfather left the Amish. May I ask you something personal?”
Lillian thought their conversation was already personal, but she nodded.
“I had the feeling that you were upset after my arrival today. Did I do something wrong? I don’t want to alienate you or others in this community. If I did do something unacceptable, please tell me. I won’t be offended. I plan to begin teaching adult education classes in this area on health and food safety later this fall, and I know I need to learn more about your Amish ways if I’m to be effective.”
Lillian looked down at her hands. “I was upset, and I beg your forgiveness for that. It wasn’t your behavior, so much as the behavior of Timothy Bowman that upset me.”
“His behavior? I found him incredibly friendly and very sweet. What did he do that upset you? He’s a bit of a flirt, but that’s harmless. Oh, unless you two are dating or something? That would put a totally different spin on it.”
“Timothy and I are simply friends,” she said quickly. Maybe too quickly. A hint of speculation widened Debra’s eyes.
“He’s a nice-looking fellow. Is he married?”
“Timothy is single.”
“I notice you aren’t wearing a wedding band. I take it you’re single, too?”
“Amish women do not wear jewelry, even wedding rings, but I am single and I shall remain so. If I were to marry I would have to give up teaching.”
“Really? That’s very old-fashioned.”
“We are an old-fashioned people. Becoming a wife and a mother is a sacred duty that must come before all else. Very few married Amish women work outside the home.”
As an outsider, Lillian wasn’t sure Debra would understand, but if she was going to be working in their community, she had to become informed about what was and was not acceptable. “You may have seen Timothy’s behavior as harmless, but our church would take a very different view. We are to be meek before God and man, never drawing attention to ourselves or putting ourselves above others. We call it demut, humbleness.”
“I think I see. I wouldn’t consider Timothy’s behavior humble, but it wasn’t offensive.”
“Timothy has a sweet nature, but his outgoing personality draws attention and that is frowned upon.”
“I was told the Amish were cold and unwelcoming. I’m happy to say I have not found that to be true. Thank you for explaining this to me. I’ll ignore Timothy’s winsome ways and practice being modest and humble.” Debra leaned toward Lillian and grinned. “I’m afraid that will be a hard task for me to master.”
Lillian decided she liked this outsider. “We have another proverb that may help. You can tell when you’re on the right track because it’s usually uphill.”
* * *
“Care to share with us, bruder Timothy?”
Timothy looked up from contemplating the coffee in his white mug to find his brother Luke staring at him. He glanced around and found his little brother Noah, his mother and his father all staring at him as if waiting for him to speak. He had no idea what they had been discussing. Lillian’s accusation had been the only thing on his mind since he left the school yesterday afternoon. Why had she accused him of flirting with the English lady? Her lack of trust chafed at his mind.
Knowing only she could answer his questions, he forced his attention back to his family. “I’m sorry. What were you talking about?”
Luke chuckled. “Who put a knot in your tail?”
Timothy knew better than to ignore Luke’s teasing. It would only get worse if he did. “No one has put a knot in my tail. I was thinking about my fire safety class and how I could improve things.” It wasn’t the whole truth, but he hoped it would satisfy his sharp-eyed brother.
“I asked you how it went.” His mother refilled his coffee cup from the pot sitting on a hot pad near her elbow and offered him the last cinnamon roll in the pan. Ana Bowman was happiest when she was feeding someone. He was surprised that they weren’t all as plump as bullfrogs.
He nodded his thanks for the refill but passed on the roll. “I think it went well. For the most part, the children paid close attention. They sure are a bright bunch. No wonder Lillian enjoys teaching them.”
Ana put the pan aside. “You impressed Hannah. She told me all about it when she came home yesterday. I’m dying to know who Lillian’s boyfriend is. Do you know?”
Timothy cringed. He would be in hot water with Lillian now for sure. “She isn’t seeing anyone. I made up a story about her having a boyfriend to show how she might become distracted, and...never mind. I can’t believe Hannah repeated that. Lillian doesn’t have a beau.”
“Told you she didn’t.” Luke stuffed his last bite of cinnamon roll in his mouth and reached for the pan. “If Lillian was seeing someone, Emma would know.”
“But would Emma tell you?” Mamm asked.
Their father pushed away from the table. “If we are done gossiping about our neighbors, perhaps we can get some work done today.”
His sons heeded the annoyance in his tone and quickly finished their coffee. They followed him out the door and across the graveled yard to the woodworking shop. The sun was just peeking over the horizon. It promised to be another warm day. One of the horses whinnied at them from the corral. The cattle and horses in the big red barn had been fed well before the men sat down to breakfast.
In the large workshop, they were joined by several other carpenters. Timothy’s oldest brother, Samuel, moved to stand beside their father with a clipboard in his hand. Everyone gathered around him awaiting instructions for the day.
Samuel flipped through the sheets of paper on his board. “We’ve received a new order for sixteen beds with carved headboards and footboards.”
“Must be an order from an Amish family if they need sixteen beds,” Noah said under his breath to Luke and Timothy.
Timothy choked on a laugh. Luke nudged their little brother with his elbow. “The Amish aren’t the only ones with big families.”
Noah elbowed him back. “Tell that to Mamm. She expects us to give her a dozen grandchildren each. Or more.”
A grin twitched at the corner of Samuel’s mouth. “I’m doing my part.”
He and his wife had welcomed a baby boy in May to the delight of everyone, especially Ana Bowman.
“This order comes from an inn being built in upstate New York,” Daed said, clearly struggling to keep from laughing. They all knew Noah spoke the truth.
Timothy thought of his conversation with Lillian about children. He did want a big family. He wanted a devout wife to be his helpmate, to share his burdens and his joys. A woman who was bright and quick-thinking. Someone who loved bringing out the best in others the way Lillian did. While there were a few nice women he could date, none of them ignited the spark he expected to feel when the right woman came along.
“We are blessed to have the quality of our work recognized by someone so far away.” Samuel pointed to Timothy. “You and Luke select the wood to be used. They want oak and walnut with pine as a secondary wood. You know the kind of lumber we need.”
“Straight with no knots in it.” Timothy was already thinking of the boards that were stacked beneath tarps behind the shop. The last delivery of locally cut walnut had been above average quality.
Samuel nodded. “Exactly. Joshua and Noah, I want you to work on creating sixteen different but coordinated designs for the headboards. Each one has to represent an animal native to the northern woods. We have a list. Deer, moose, bobcat, bear, ducks, geese, raccoon, you get the idea.” He handed the paper to Joshua.
“How about a skunk?” Noah suggested.
Samuel shook his head. “Are you ever serious?”
“Rarely.”
Timothy spoke up. “I’m sure we can come up with sixteen that will satisfy the customer. How much time do we have to complete the order?”
Samuel flipped a paper over. “Ten weeks.”
“Finally, an Englisch customer who isn’t in a flat-out rush,” Noah said.
His comment reminded Timothy that he had promised to show Debra around the shop after she was done at the school today. He had been happy to extend the invitation yesterday, but now he wished he hadn’t. Lillian was sure to be upset if he spent more time with the pretty Englisch nurse.
Samuel handed Timothy a sheet of paper with the dimensions for the beds. He and Luke headed for the back door of the shop. A low beep made Luke stop and pull his fire department pager from his waistband. “Is it your turn to be on call or should I give it to Noah?”
“It’s my turn. Does it need to be charged?” The family had a diesel generator to run the electric equipment in their business. A single outlet in their father’s office was the only place the brothers could charge their pagers when the generators were running.
“Ja, it does. Wouldn’t want you to miss a call. How many times have we gone out this month?”
“Eight.” Twice as many as usual. Mostly rubbish fires that had gotten out of hand, but one had been a large hay fire that threatened a house and barn. Fortunately, no one had been injured and the blaze had been contained.
Luke glanced out the door. “This warm weather and lack of rain has left the land as dry as tinder. I pray it rains soon.”
“Amen to that.” Timothy followed him outside and around the back of the building where a covered shed housed their lumber.
Once they were outside, Luke faced Timothy and planted his hands on his hips. “Now that no one else in the family is listening, what’s really bothering you?”
So he hadn’t fooled his eagle-eyed brother. “If you must know, Lillian accused me of flirting with the visiting nurse who came to the school yesterday. I wasn’t flirting. I was being nice to the woman.”
“Was this nurse a pretty woman?”
“I guess you could say that.”
“And Lillian became upset because you were being nice to a pretty woman.”
“Ja.”
“Well, that explains a lot.”
Timothy scowled at Luke. “Not to me, it doesn’t. What do you know that I don’t?”
“She’s jealous.”
“Lillian? You can’t be serious. Nee, that isn’t it.”
“You and she are friends. Close friends. Right?”
“Since we were in third grade. Everyone knows that. So?”
“She has had your undivided devotion for years. Maybe she saw for the first time that she might not always be the center of your life. You two aren’t children anymore.”
Timothy mulled over his brother’s words. Was Luke right? If he was, what did that mean for the relationship Timothy cherished?
Chapter Four (#uf0d84b86-fd7b-521a-a699-03b0dffb05c2)
Early the next morning, Lillian rounded the sharp bend in the road and was surprised to see Debra sitting on the school steps. The sun was barely up in the east. A thin mist hugged the river and low places. Lillian knew it would burn off quickly when the sun rose in the sky.
The sight of the young woman brought back the memory of Lillian’s quarrel with Timothy. Her family’s hurried departure as well as her false pride had kept her from seeking him out yesterday. He deserved an apology. After school, she would make a point to seek him out. She cherished his friendship and didn’t want to lose it.
“Good morning,” Deborah called out cheerfully as she waved.
“Good morning. You certainly arrived early enough.”
“I was determined to be on time this morning. I parked my car beside that empty shed over there. I hope that’s okay.”
“It’s fine. In poor weather I drive my buggy and park inside, but as you can see, I walked today.”
“How far away do you live?”
“Not far. Two and a half miles.”
“I wouldn’t like to hike that far for my job. I spent some time doing research last night that I should have done before coming here. I’m afraid I discovered more questions than answers. Is it true that Amish children don’t go to school beyond the eighth grade?”
Lillian climbed the steps and held the door open for Debra. “It is true.”
“Even you, a teacher?”
“You must find that shocking. We believe that beyond elementary school, vocational training is sufficient for Amish youth. Some cases of higher education are permitted. I earned my GED and took some college courses by correspondence before I was baptized into the faith. Admittedly, I’m something of an exception. Amish teachers rarely have more education than their students, but I knew I was preparing for a lifetime vocation.”
“I can certainly understand that. What is the curriculum like here?”
“I teach the basics of reading, writing and arithmetic just as the majority of public schools did over a century ago. In addition, I teach German.” Lillian laid her books and papers on her desk.
“I’m aware that in the case of Wisconsin versus Yoder in 1972, the United States Supreme Court ruled that Amish children could end their formal schooling at the age of fourteen. But getting a good education is so important in this day and age. I’m not sure I see how your children can prosper without it.”
Picking up an eraser, Lillian began to wipe away her class assignments from the day before. “Education must prepare our children to be productive members of our community, not productive members of the greater world. I teach English because it is the language of our neighbors and of our commerce. A man cannot sell milk or goods if he doesn’t understand what his customer is saying. I teach German because we use the Bible written in that language just as our ancestors did in our church services. My students also learn about health and basic science, although not all Amish schools are as progressive as we are. Each school board decides what is important and what is to be taught. In some areas of education, you may find us lacking, but we do what is best for our children and our way of life.
“I certainly didn’t learn a new language in grade school.”
Lillian realized how puffed up she must sound and turned to face Debra. “And I am guilty of pride. Please forgive me for lecturing you.”
“As I have said before, I enjoy learning new things. Thank you for the lesson and you are forgiven if you will forgive my ignorance and not take offense at my many questions.”
“That is a deal. We Amish are free to read and study ways to improve our lives as long as they do not go against the teaching of our church. We believe higher education puts our children at risk of exposure to worldly behaviors that we do not condone.”
“But what about doctors and nurses? Don’t the Amish want their own people in such professions?”
“There is a need for doctors and nurses, we don’t deny that. We are grateful for the men and women who seek to serve mankind in such a fashion, but the core of our faith is that we must be separate from the world. In it, but not a part of it. We must forsake all self-interest and humbly submit to the authority of the church. To us, this is the only way to be righteous in the sight of God. Any display of pride is a sin. If we take pride in being Amish, that, too, is a sin.”
“I respect your right to believe as you wish, but I can’t say that I understand it.”
Lillian smiled. “I won’t hold that against you.”
She had never met anyone as forthright as Debra. The two previous health workers who had come to the school had been all business and not talkative in the least.
The sound of childish chatter outside signaled the arrival of her first students. Most were able to walk to the school, but a few were delivered to her doorstep in buggies driven by their parents or older siblings.
Debra glanced at the clock on the wall. It was five minutes until eight. “I need a quiet place for the hearing tests later today. Where do you suggest?”
“The cloakroom, or we have a basement if you’d like to see it.”
“I think the cloakroom will work.”
Lillian helped Debra move an unused desk and chair into the room. Outside, the sounds of children at play grew louder. The swings and the merry-go-round were favorite places for the students to play before school started.
Debra moved to the window. “They were so quiet yesterday, but they sound loud and rambunctious now. Maybe I should use the basement.”
“Noise won’t be a problem.” Lillian went to the front steps.
Hannah ran up to her. “Teacher, Mamm brought me to school in our new pony cart. Isn’t it pretty? That’s our new pony. His name is Hank.”
Lillian looked toward the road. Mary Bowman waved from the seat of a small two-wheeled wooden cart painted sky blue. A small black pony with a snip of white on his nose tossed his thick black mane. Lillian returned Mary’s wave and turned to Hannah. “It’s a very nice cart, and he looks like a fine pony.”
“I made these for you.” Hannah thrust a shoe box toward Lillian.
“How kind. What can it be?” Lillian’s heart expanded with joy as she lifted the box to her ear and shook it. The rattle and aroma of gingersnaps gave her a hint. She peeked inside the lid. “Did you make these all by yourself? They look scrumptious.”
“Grossmammi Ana helped me.”
Lillian laid the box aside. “Please thank your grandmother Ana for me.”
“We have something for you, too.” Karen and Carla Beachy, third-grade twins, came up beside Hannah. They had each drawn a picture of their favorite cow named Willow. Lillian took the pictures and admired them. “These are lovely. I shall put them on the wall for everyone to enjoy.”
“Guder mariye, Teacher.” Carl Mast rushed up with a big grin.
“It is a beautiful morning.” This was truly her favorite part of the day. More of her children greeted her and shared the news from home and she realized once again how truly blessed she was.
She rang the bell. Her students who were still playing outside immediately stopped what they were doing and filed quietly into the schoolhouse. They came in, put away their lunches and took their seats. Even Abe and Gabriel were quiet this morning.
Lillian stood in front of her desk. “Good morning, scholars.”
“Good morning, Teacher,” they said in unison.
“As you can see, Nurse Merrick has returned to finish your health screenings. You are to go with her when it is your turn.”
Lillian moved to the blackboard that covered the front wall of the school and wrote out the date and the arithmetic assignments for each of the classes. When she finished, she picked up her Bible. Each day she chose a passage to read from the Old or the New Testament. This morning she chose 2 Corinthians 6. After the reading, her students rose, clasped their hands together and repeated the Lord’s Prayer in unison.
Lillian picked up her copy of Unpartheyisches Gesang-Buch, their German songbook, from the corner of her desk. Singing was a normal part of each school day. Without being told, the children filed to the front of the room and lined up in their assigned places. She chose two English songs out of respect to their guest and one German hymn. Gabriel, the best singer in the school, began the hymn. The other children’s voices rose together in unison as they sang without musical accompaniment. When the songs were finished, they all returned to their seats.
Susan Yoder began handing out readers to the three lower grades. The older students took out their arithmetic workbooks. All the children knew what was expected of them, and they did it without instructions. After Susan finished handing out the readers, she went with Debra to translate for the youngest ones being tested.
By ten o’clock, it was time for recess. Debra emerged from the cloakroom as the children surged around her to hurry outside. She came to the open door, where Lillian stood watching her charges. “I have to say that I’m amazed by how well behaved your students are. I hope every school I visit will be this cooperative.”
Lillian smiled at her. “Every Amish school will be.”
By early afternoon, the day had become hot enough that Lillian opened a window near her desk. A gust of breeze blew in and carried the arid smell of smoke into the schoolroom. Lillian looked up from the paper she was grading and glanced outside. A large cornfield stood across the road from the school. The tall pale tan stalks hadn’t yet been harvested and their dry leaves crackled in the brisk wind. She saw a thin column of smoke rising from the far end of the field near the river.
Frowning, she rose from her chair and moved toward the front door. Had Mr. Hanson decided to burn his trash today? The country was under an open burning ban because of the drought, but not everyone complied with the rule.
On the porch, Lillian shaded her eyes and looked south. Mr. Hanson’s cornfield curved around the building on three sides like a wide horseshoe. A swirl of wind picked up fallen leaves from beneath the trees by the road and added them to the large pile that had accumulated beside the porch. Unease crept up Lillian’s spine.
The school, situated on a small hillock, was backed by a taller rise with a thick stand of woods that ended in a sheer bluff above the river. To the north, a high wooded ridge separated the school from the collection of farms beyond that were also located inside the bend of the river. The road in front of the school made a loop through the area that was mainly Amish farms. The covered bridge at Bowmans Crossing was the only way in and out.
Susan came outside and stood beside Lillian. “Do you smell smoke?”
“It’s coming from Mr. Hanson’s farmstead.”
“Surely he can see the wind is too strong and in the wrong direction for burning today.”
A huge explosion rocked the quiet afternoon, startling Lillian and making Susan shriek. Flames and black smoke shot skyward from the Hansons’ farm. Lillian watched in shock as flaming debris flew high into the air.
Susan gripped Lillian’s arm. “What was that?”
“I’m not sure. Perhaps a gasoline tank.” The noise of excited children’s voices rose inside the school.
“Should I run to the phone shack and call 9-1-1?” Susan asked, poised to dash away. The community telephone booth was a hundred yards down the road. A car went speeding past the school. Lillian recognized it as the one that belonged to Davey Mast. Was he headed for the phone booth to call for help? She had no way of knowing.
“Miss Merrick has a cell phone. We’ll use that.”
Lillian hurried Susan back inside. “Remain in your seats, children. There has been an explosion at the Hanson Farm across the way. Miss Merrick, would you be kind enough to notify 9-1-1? I want to make sure help is on the way.”
“Of course.” She pulled out her cell phone.
A gust of wind-driven smoke billowed in through the open window. Several children started coughing. Lillian motioned to Gabriel. “Shut the window, please.”
Debra Merrick came over with the phone in her hand. “The local fire department has been alerted.”
Was Timothy on call today? Even if he wasn’t, he was sure to be among the people who would rush to help the Hansons.
Abe and Gabriel were at the windows looking out. Gabriel turned to her. “Should we go see if we can help?”
It wasn’t a bad suggestion. Lillian chewed her lower lip. Perhaps she should send several of the older boys.
“Teacher. The fire is coming this way.” The fear in Abe’s voice drew her quickly to the window.
A wall of flames spewing dense smoke was spreading into the cornfield. The broad tongues of fire bent low and surged forward with each gust of the wind. Behind it, she could see the fire had spread into the trees along the river near the bridge. The only thing between the school and the flames was a narrow road. Would the fire be able to jump it? There wasn’t much fuel for the blaze in their short lawn, but the building itself was wooden. There was plenty of fuel in the woods behind the school. Would they be safe here? Even as the question crossed her mind, a burning leaf of corn spiraled down from the sky and landed in the center of the road.
No. They weren’t safe. The wind was too strong.
“We could go through the woods behind the school and down to the river,” Gabriel suggested.
Lillian assessed the possible escape routes. The hill was steep and densely wooded terrain. Getting up and over it and down to the river would take time. “The fire is already spreading through the woods along the river. With so much wind, it could get in front of us. I don’t think we should chance it. The young ones won’t be able to move fast enough.”
Debra moved to stand beside Lillian. “I can take some of the children in my car and drive out of here.”
Lillian considered the idea. The sun was almost blotted out by the dense billowing clouds of smoke, but it was easy to see the wall of flames growing closer. Even with the windows closed, the smell of smoke was overwhelming.
“The only way out of this area is back across the bridge. The road only leads to other farms and it curves back and forth in the woods as it goes over the ridge. You might become trapped. Nee, I will keep all the children here. You are free to go if you wish.”
“I’m staying with you and the kids.”
“Danki.”
Lillian turned to the class and spoke in Pennsylvania Deitsch so they could all understand her. “Children, you must listen to me very carefully and do what I say without question. There is a fire heading this way. I want you seventh-and eighth-grade boys to wet your handkerchiefs from the water can. Use them to cover your noses and mouths. If you don’t have one, borrow one. Get whatever you can find that will hold water and start throwing it on the school building outside. Use the water from the horse tank and make a bucket brigade from the pump. Wet the roof as well as you can. Soak the area around our propane tank, too. Be quick and come back inside when I ring the bell. Each of you choose a partner and don’t get separated from that person. Gabriel, you’re in charge. Go.”
Eight boys scrambled to her desk for water and were soon out the door. She turned to the remaining children and prayed she was making the right decision. “I want the rest of you to file down quietly into the basement. Each student in the older grades will take the hand of one younger child and lead everyone downstairs. Susan, take them all into the coal cellar and check to see that you can open the outside doors. They haven’t been used in years.”
The school board had taken out the coal stove and installed a new propane furnace four years earlier, but the coal storage area remained. The cavelike structure jutted out from the side of the basement, so the building wasn’t directly over it. It had a thick wooden door they could close off to the basement. The curved walls and roof of the cellar were hand-hewn stone and covered with earth. It was fireproof. They could escape through the outside chute doors if the school building caught fire.
Lillian turned to Debra. “Go with Susan. You’ll be safe underground. Use your phone to tell the fire department what we’re doing first, then help Susan keep the children calm.”
“Are you sure this is wise?” Debra stared at her with wide fear-filled eyes.
“The firefighters will make getting here a priority,” she said with absolute confidence. The closest fire station was across the river about a mile from Bowmans Crossing. One covered wooden bridge stood between them. Had the fire reached it already? Were they cut off? Only God knew, but Timothy and the Bowman family would move heaven and earth to save the children even if they had to swim the river. Of that she was certain. “Go downstairs, Debra. You’ll be safe there.”
“I hope you’re right about this.” Debra sprinted for the staircase leading to the basement.
Lillian untied her apron as she hurried to her desk. After wetting the material, she tied it around her face. At the front door, she paused and closed her eyes. “Dear Lord, let this be the right decision. Save these children and protect the men coming to help us.”
Protect Timothy. Why did I let him leave in anger yesterday? Forgive me, Timothy.
Taking a deep breath, she pulled open the door and went out to ring the bell. She made sure she had all the boys as they raced inside. When they were safe, she said, “Get down to the basement.”
Susan came up the steps just as Lillian reached it. “Teacher, I can’t get the outside doors open.”
“I’ll go around to the back and see if something is blocking it.” Gabriel started for the door.
Lillian grabbed his arm. “Nee, get downstairs with the others. I’ll go.”
When he did as she told him, Lillian pulled her wet apron over her face again and stepped out into the dense smoke.
Chapter Five (#uf0d84b86-fd7b-521a-a699-03b0dffb05c2)
The sound of an explosion had pulled Timothy, his brothers and the rest of the men working in the Bowman furniture shop outside. Timothy stared toward the bridge and saw dense smoke billowing above the trees on the north side of the river. It was impossible to tell how far away the explosion had been, but he thought it had to have been from the Hanson Farm.
Timothy’s mother came out of the house and stood on the steps, her eyes wide with fright. “What was that? Is anyone hurt?”
“It wasn’t here,” Isaac, Timothy’s father yelled across to his wife. “It came from over the river.”
Timothy’s pager started beeping. Noah’s pager went off next.
“What do you think that was? Should we head over there?” Noah asked as he silenced his pager.
“Nee,” Isaac said. “You should go with your fire crew. They will be here soon. Everyone else, come with me. Grab shovels, anything that you can use to beat out the flames. We must protect the bridge. Samuel, go to the house and have your mother give us all the towels and blankets she can spare. If we soak them, we can use them to beat out the flames. Luke, bring every fire extinguisher from the shop.” The men all ran to accomplish their tasks and were soon headed toward the footbridge.
Timothy and Noah ran up the lane toward the highway. As soon as they reached the road, a black pickup driven by their English neighbor and fireman, Walter Osborne, skidded to a halt on the pavement. Part of Walter’s job was to collect the Amish volunteers and get them to the fire station as quickly as possible. He rolled down the window and shouted, “Get in. Hurry.”
“What was it?” Timothy asked as he and Noah climbed into the backseat.
“We aren’t sure. The call came from a woman at the school. Some kind of public health worker. All she knew was that the explosion came from the Hanson Farm. The field across from the school is on fire, and the flames are heading toward them.”
Walter stepped on the gas. “I’ve got one more to pick up.”
“Who?” Noah asked.
“John Miller.” The burly local blacksmith and farrier lived a little more than a mile away.
“Did they evacuate the school?” Timothy asked, meeting Noah’s worried gaze.
Walter sent the truck rocketing down the road. “No, the fire has them cut off. The teacher decided it was safer to put the kids in a cold room. You two went to that school. What kind of cold room does it have?”
Perplexed, Timothy glanced again at Noah. His brother shrugged. Suddenly, Timothy realized what the caller might have meant. “Not a cold room, the coal room. It’s a cavelike area off to the north side of the school basement. The teacher there, Lillian Keim, is one of the smartest women I know. If anyone can keep the children safe, she can.”
He prayed for all the children in peril and for her. He’d been foolish to let a misunderstanding jeopardize their friendship. He wasn’t sure he could face himself knowing his last words to her were the ones he’d spoken in anger.
John was standing by his mailbox at the end of his lane. He still wore his big leather apron over his clothes. He didn’t bother opening the door of the truck, but vaulted into the bed and pounded on the roof to let Walter know he was on board.
Walter hit the gas again. In a few minutes, they reached a white steel building that sat by itself on a plot of land just off the highway. The wail of a siren blared from a speaker on the roof as one of the two metal garage doors rose. The main fire engine pulled out just as a second pickup loaded with volunteers turned into the parking lot. The men, all Amish farmers and their non-Amish driver, piled out, grabbed their gear and quickly jumped onto the engine. There was none of the usual chatter today. Many of the men had children or grandchildren at the school.
As the others pulled away, Timothy and Noah entered the building and donned their fire gear. The coats, pants and hats were heavy, but if they had to enter a burning building, their fireproof gear would be needed along with their air packs.
The men quickly settled themselves in the station’s smaller fire truck and pulled out of the building with Walter in the driver’s seat. As they sped down the road toward the river, Timothy saw dozens of men and boys, some in wagons and some on foot and horseback, heading in the same direction.
The first fire truck had been stopped just past the covered bridge by a wall of flames. A burning tree blocked the road, and the woods on either side were heavily involved. Through the dense smoke, Timothy could make out the farmhouse with flames licking out from under the roof. This was a bad one.
Timothy’s radio crackled and he heard the fire chief’s voice. “Truck Two, get your hoses on that tree. We’ve got to get it out of our way.”
Noah and Timothy leaped off the vehicle to comply. As they unreeled a line, Timothy found himself working side by side with men in fire gear and men in straw hats and suspenders. Every fire call he’d been involved with was the same. Neighbors rushed in to help each other.
With the line stretched, Timothy braced for the pressure surge as the water filled the hose. More men grabbed on behind him, and within a few moments he had a wide spray of water soaking the roadblock. The blaze was quickly extinguished. Timothy dialed back the pressure and kept a light spray covering the two men who rushed forward with chain saws. Someone produced a log chain. The downed tree was hooked to the main fire truck and quickly pulled aside.
The fire commander came up calling orders. “Truck One, get your crew up to the farmhouse. We have injuries there. Truck Two, get to the school. We have a tanker coming from Berlin, but they’re twenty minutes out. This road is the only way in and there are ten farms past this point. I’ve called for aircraft support and we have a chopper coming.”
“In this wind?” Walter asked in amazement.
“They know we have a school full of children out there, and the crew is willing to risk it. Let’s pray they can get a dump on the school before it’s too late.”
They couldn’t be too late. Timothy had to believe that Lillian and the children were safe.
He jumped back on board the engine. Their smaller vehicle held only five hundred gallons of water. The larger truck held a thousand gallons. Without fire hydrants to hook up to in rural areas, the only water available was what the trucks carried. Timothy looked at the blaze leaping from treetop to treetop and roaring through the cornfield in front of them. They were definitely going to need more water.
* * *
Thick smoke made Lillian’s eyes water so badly she could barely see the heavy-gauge wire wrapped around the coal chute door handles. The stiff wire had been turned tightly and it refused to unwind. A burning corn leaf swirled in and landed on her arm, scorching her sleeve. She beat out the ember with her palm, but it left a charred hole in her dress.
The roar and crackle of the approaching fire was so loud she wanted to put her hands over her ears and hide. How could this be happening?

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