His Amish Teacher. Patricia Davids
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?”
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