there was some truth to what Becky said. As a thirty-year-old maidal who’d been teaching for a dozen years, Susannah wasn’t easily cowed, at least not when it came to her classroom and the young scholars who were like her own children. Young Mary would probably be easily influenced by her father’s powerful personality.
“I don’t think Mary Keim has much interest in teaching, from what I’ve seen,” she said, determined to deflect Becky’s ire. Picking up the cardboard box that held Christmas program materials, Susannah set it on the desk. “If we’re going to work on the program this afternoon, we’d better get started.”
Becky shook her head gloomily. “Mary might not want to teach, but she’d never stand up to her daad. You’re not going to let her help with the Christmas program, are you? She’d just be spying on you and reporting back to him.”
“I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it,” she said. “Maybe she won’t offer.” Susannah pulled the tape from the box lid, sure that would divert Becky’s attention.
“Just one more thing, and then I’ll stop, I promise,” Becky said. “You’re not to pay any heed to Keim’s nasty comment about you not understanding the kinder because you’re unmarried, all right?”
“All right.” That was an easy promise to make. One thing she’d never had cause to question was her feelings for her scholars.
“After all, it’s not as if you couldn’t have married if you’d wanted to.” Becky dived into the box and pulled out a handful of paper stars. “Even after Toby left—” She stopped abruptly, her cheeks flaming. “Susannah, I’m sorry, I—”
“Forget it.” Susannah forced her smile to remain, despite the jolt in her stomach at the mention of Toby’s name. “I have.”
That was a lie, of course, and one she should repent of, she supposed. Still, the gut Lord could hardly expect her to go around parading her feelings about the childhood sweetheart who had deserted her a month before their wedding was supposed to take place.
“Have you? Really?” Becky clasped her hand, her brown eyes suddenly swimming with tears.
“Of course I have,” she said with all the firmness she could muster. “It was ten years ago. My disappointment has long since been forgiven and forgotten. I wish Toby well.”
Did she? She tried to, of course. Forgiveness was an integral part of being Amish. But saying she forgave hadn’t seemed to mend the tear in her heart.
“Well, I wish Tobias Unger was here right now so I could give him a piece of my mind,” Becky declared. “He left so fast nobody had a chance to tell him how ferhoodled he was being. And then his getting married out in Ohio to someone he barely knew... Well, like I said, he was just plain foolish.”
News of Toby had filtered back to Pine Creek after he’d left, naturally, since his family still lived here. Everyone knew he’d married someone else within a year of leaving, just as they’d heard about the births of his two children and about his wife’s death last year. His mother had gone out to Ohio to help with the children for a time, and she’d returned saying that Toby and the kinder really ought to move back home.
But he hadn’t, to Susannah’s relief. She wasn’t sure how she’d cope with seeing him all the time.
“Forget about him,” she said. “Let’s talk about how we’re going to arrange the room for the Christmas program. I have some new ideas.”
“You always have ideas,” Becky said, apparently ready to let go of the sensitive subject. “I don’t know how you keep coming up with something new every year.”
“Ach, there’s always something new to find in Christmas.” Susannah felt a bubble of excitement rising in her at the thought of the much-loved season. “Maybe because we all feel like kinder again, ain’t so?”
“I suppose so. Thomas and the twins have been whispering together for weeks now. I think they’re planning a Christmas surprise for me.” Becky smiled.
“Of course they are. That’s what Christmas is, after all. God’s greatest surprise of all for us.” Susannah swung away from the desk, looking around the room. “What do you think about making the schoolroom itself surprising when folks come in? Maybe instead of having the scholars standing in the front, we could turn everything sideways. That would give the kinder more space.”
She walked back through the rows of desks, flinging out her arms to gesture. “You see, if the audience faced this way—”
The door of the one-room school opened suddenly, interrupting her words. Susannah’s heart jolted, and she felt as if she couldn’t breathe.
Surely she was dreaming it. The man standing in the schoolhouse doorway wasn’t...couldn’t possibly be...Toby Unger.
* * *
Toby found himself standing motionless for a little too long, the words of greeting he’d prepared failing to appear. He’d known he would see Susannah, after all. He shouldn’t be speechless.
William, holding on to his left hand, gave him a tug forward, while little Anna clung to his pant leg. Toby cleared his throat, feeling his face redden. He could only hope Susannah would think his flush was from the chill December air.
“Susannah. It’s nice to see you after so long.”
Susannah’s heart-shaped face seemed to lose its frozen look when he spoke. She glanced from him to the two children, and a smile touched her lips.
“Wilkom to the school, Toby. These are your kinder?” She stooped to Anna’s level. “I’m Teacher Susannah. What’s your name?”
For an instant, he thought his daughter would respond, but then she hid her face against his leg, as she always did with strangers these days.
“This is Anna,” he said, resting his hand on her shoulder. “She’s six. And this is my son, William.”
“I’m eight,” William announced. “I’m in third grade.”
“You’re a big boy, then.” Something about the expression in Susannah’s green eyes made Toby wonder if she was seeing him at that age. People often said William was very like him, with his gray-blue eyes and the chestnut-colored hair that was determined to curl.
When Susannah returned her gaze to his face, there was no longer any trace of surprise or shock in her. Her heart-shaped face had maturity and control now, although her soft peachy skin and the delicate curve of her cheek hadn’t changed in the ten years since he’d seen her last.
“How nice that you could come to visit,” she said. “I’m sure your mamm and daad are happy to see you and the kinder, especially since your father has been laid up with that broken leg from his accident.”
Of course that was what she’d assume—that he was here to visit, maybe to help out after his father’s fall from the barn loft. He’d made his decision so quickly there wouldn’t have been time for word to spread, even though the Amish grapevine was probably still as effective as ever. Which meant he had to tell her the news that he assumed Susannah would find very unwelcome.
“We’re
