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?
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
