concerned that she might be venturing too far into personal territory.
William shook his head, pressing his lips together. “Can I go?”
She nodded, feeling helpless, and watched him leave the room with a swagger probably designed to tell anyone who saw him that he didn’t care about getting into trouble with the teacher.
She really didn’t want to have any further private conversations with Toby, but she was afraid she’d have to.
The opportunity arose when Toby came to pick up his children from school. After a look at his son, busily washing the chalkboards, he walked out of the schoolhouse and approached Susannah where she stood on the steps, waving goodbye to her scholars.
“I take it William is in trouble already.” He stood at the top of the steps, looking down at her.
Susannah went up a step. Toby had quite enough of a height advantage on her already, without adding any more. “I’m afraid so.”
He looked as if he was bracing himself for the news. “How bad?”
“Not bad at all.” She smiled to lessen the sting he was undoubtedly feeling. No parent wanted to hear that his child hadn’t behaved properly. “I thought a session of washing the boards together might be good for both Seth and William.”
Toby put one hand on the porch post, looking as if he’d like to pull it loose and throw it. “Fighting?”
“Just pushing each other. There’s no need for you to say anything more to him. I can deal with what happens at my school.”
“I’m sure you can.” His glance held a hint of surprise. “You’ve changed, Susannah.”
“I’ve grown up,” she corrected. “We both have.”
He blew out a sigh. “I don’t know. Grown-ups are supposed to have the answers, aren’t they? I don’t seem to have any.”
“No one does. We just muddle along and do our best to live as God wants.”
She’d had every intention of keeping her conversations with him cool and impersonal, and here they were, talking like old friends again. Like people who’d known each other so long that they barely needed to use words.
“What can I do, Susannah?” He was looking at her, his eyes so honest and pleading that she knew she had to help him, no matter the risk to her heart.
“I’ve been giving it some thought,” she said carefully. “It seems to me that Anna just needs a bit of time and patience to ease her transition to her new life. As for William...” She had to proceed slowly. She didn’t want to add to Toby’s burdens, but he seemed to be the key to the boy’s difficulties. “Perhaps if you could spend more time with him—”
“Do you think I don’t know that I’m to blame?” The quick flash of anger seemed to be directed more at himself than at her. “That’s the main reason I moved back here. I want William to have the kind of relationship with me that I had with my daad, working together, enjoying each other....” His voice trailed off.
“I know,” she said softly. “I thought perhaps if you volunteered to help with the Christmas program, it would be a start. William could work with you building the props and getting the classroom ready. And Anna would find reassurance in having you close at hand during part of her school day.”
And what would she find in having Toby in her classroom, seeing him often, trying to manage her rebellious heart?
But Toby’s face had already brightened at her suggestion. “That’s a fine idea, Susannah. If you’re sure you can stand having me around so much, that is.”
She couldn’t force a smile no matter how hard she tried, but she nodded. “Gut. That’s settled, then. We’ll start work on the program on Monday afternoon.”
“I’ll be here,” he said. He started to turn toward the classroom and his kinder, and then stopped, looking into her face. “You’re a kind person, Susannah. I won’t forget this.”
His fingers brushed her hand, and awareness shimmered across her skin. No. She wouldn’t forget, either.
* * *
Susannah sat beside Becky in the buggy on Saturday, struggling to find the best way of telling her friend she was going to be working with Toby. There didn’t seem to be any.
Becky was bound to disapprove, and Susannah could hardly blame her. After all, it was Becky who’d seen her through that terrible time after Toby left.
Back then, Susannah had managed to keep her calm facade in place with other people. That had been prideful, most likely, but it had seemed necessary. She hadn’t wanted to burden her parents or Toby’s with her hurt. It was only with Becky that she’d felt free to expose her inner grief and pain.
They were pulling into the parking area at Byler’s Book Shop, and she still hadn’t managed to bring up the subject. Byler’s, like most Amish businesses, was located right on the family farm—a square, cement-block building to house the store, run by Etta Byler, with the help of various sisters and cousins.
Becky parked the buggy at the hitching rail, and they both slid down. “I love having a reason to visit the book shop.” Becky was smiling in anticipation. “I think I’ll get a book for each of the twins for Christmas. After I help find the materials for the program, of course.”
“You can do all the browsing you want,” Susannah said, leading the way to the door. “That’s the best part of coming to the book shop, ain’t so?”
Susannah paused inside the door, taking in the sections devoted to children’s books, history and the ever-popular Amish romance novels. Several women were already browsing through books by their favorite authors. Becky cast a longing look in that direction, but she followed Susannah to the area devoted to aids for teachers.
Susannah paused in front of a display of bulletin-board materials. “I was thinking that we might work the whole program around the idea of light. Jesus came to be the light for the world, and then there’s the Christmas star and the idea of letting your light shine....”
“But not blinding your neighbor with it,” Becky finished the familiar Amish phrase, grinning. “That’s a great idea, if we can find enough things that relate to it.”
“I can write some of the pieces myself, if I need to.” The youngest scholars were usually the most difficult to find parts for. They needed roles that didn’t require too much reading and would allow them to move around, if possible. They’d be fidgeting, anyway, unused to being the center of attention for all the parents and grandparents and siblings who would pack the schoolhouse for the event.
“Stars, candles,” Becky said, musing. “Or even lanterns. We have some in the barn.”
“I’ve been thinking of having two or three large cardboard candles on each side of the area where the scholars will perform. They’d enjoy that, I think.”
Becky nodded, quick to jump on the idea. “We can get some of the fathers to make them, ain’t so? Who do you want to ask?”
Susannah couldn’t
