The Amish Nanny's Sweetheart. Jan Drexler

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ Guy interested, or had he sat there because no one else did?

      She took a songbook from the stack that was passed along the table and dared to meet his gaze again just as a voice called out the first song number. She fumbled with her book until she found the right page, knowing he was watching her all the time. The group started singing and she struggled to join in the unfamiliar tune. She glanced up again and was relieved to see that he was concentrating on the songbook.

      Holding her book in front of her face, Judith squeezed her mouth shut tight to keep from giggling. She was at a Singing, and a boy was sitting across from her. So, this was what it was like to be grown up. She dared to peek at Guy again, but he was still concentrating on the book in front of him. She suppressed a little quiver that went from her middle all through her, then turned her eyes back to the words of the song. It was a hymn, but not one from the hymnal they used on Sunday mornings, the Ausbund.

      The tune became more familiar as they started the second verse and she joined in. As she did, she could hear a clear tenor humming the tune without singing the words. It was Guy. He frowned at the book in his hands. If he didn’t speak Deitsch well, perhaps he couldn’t read it, either. Judith lost her place in the song as she let her imagination fill in the empty pieces of Guy’s story without success. She would just have to get to know him better if she wanted her questions answered.

      * * *

      Guy Hoover couldn’t believe that the seat across from the new girl had remained open long enough for him to claim it. But now, he told himself, he had to quit staring at her. It didn’t matter if she was the prettiest girl he had ever seen. She would think he was some kind of fool if he didn’t get hold of himself.

      Running a finger inside the too-tight neckband of his shirt, he stared at the songbook in his hands. He hadn’t wanted to come to the Singing tonight. He hadn’t been to one since Hannah Kaufman had laughed at his attempt to talk to her in Pennsylvania Dutch. Three months had passed since then, but the sting of her rejection had kept him away from any gathering of the community’s young people. Tonight, though, Verna Mast had pushed him out the door.

      “Go have some fun,” she had said. “David has you working so hard all through the week that you deserve to spend some time with folks your own age on a Sunday evening.”

      Folks his own age, yes, but the fellows treated him like the outsider he was. They knew his past, that his pa had abandoned him at the orphanage. That he was an unwanted mongrel, not worth their bother. That he was only a hired hand.

      David and Verna had never made him feel that way, though. They were good people.

      He sneaked a glance over the top of his songbook. Judith’s soft blue gaze, as soft as her voice had been as they talked outside, met his, then dropped to her book.

      Looking down at his own music, Guy gave up trying to sing. He could speak a little bit of the Pennsylvania German, but not enough to follow the words on the pages. He knew the tune, though, and hummed along with the singers while his mind wandered.

      He let his thoughts drift to the first time he had seen Judith. David had sent him to the Beachey home with a pail of milk and he had knocked on the kitchen door the same as every other time. But when Annie’s sister had opened the door...

      Guy felt a foolish grin slide over his face and glanced across the table just in time to see Judith’s red face before she lifted her songbook to hide it. His grin took over. With some planning, he might be able to talk to her some more before the end of the evening. Perhaps he would even be able to walk her home.

      At that thought, his stomach churned like a windmill. Judith sat next to Hannah, and he could imagine what Hannah was saying about him. Why couldn’t folks let the new girl get to know him on her own, without gossiping?

      After the group had sung several songs, Elizabeth Stoltzfus announced that refreshments were ready. Guy noticed that several of the fellows were coming out of the kitchen with cups of punch for the girls. This would be his opportunity to talk to Judith, but he saw that Luke Kaufman was already at her side with a cup. As he offered it to Judith, she smiled up at him.

      Luke Kaufman.

      Guy pushed away from the table and made his way to the kitchen. If she was interested in Luke, then she would never even look at him.

      As he reached the table filled with sandwiches, John Stoltzfus thrust a plate toward him. “Glad to see you here tonight, Guy.”

      Guy nodded at the older man, the father of Benjamin and Reuben. John had always welcomed him whenever he was in the Amish community.

      “Denki.” Guy switched to English. “Thank you for hosting the Singing.”

      “Of course.” John spoke in English, too. “You know that whoever hosts the morning church services also hosts the Youth Singing in the evening.”

      “All the same, thanks.” Guy took a thick sandwich spread with ground ham and then one with egg salad.

      “Don’t miss the pie,” John said. “Elizabeth makes the best pumpkin pies.”

      “I know.” Guy slid a piece of pie onto his plate, then moved around the table to stand next to John, out of the way. John’s wife, Elizabeth, was the best cook he knew of, other than Verna. “I’ll probably have seconds if there are any pieces left.”

      John grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll keep one back for you, if you’d like. Although you look like the Masts’ table has been agreeing with you.”

      Guy nodded as he took a bite of the ham sandwich. He had worked for David Mast every summer since he was nine, and those summers had filled his winter dreams with memories of Verna’s delicious cooking. When he turned eighteen last year and could no longer live at the Orphan’s Home, David had offered him a regular job, including room and board. He had jumped at the offer.

      “Verna’s cooking is a sight better than—” Guy stopped. He didn’t need to remind John or the others in the kitchen of where he had lived most of his life. “Her cooking is delicious.”

      The short refreshment break was nearly over, and while Guy finished his first piece of pie, the kitchen emptied as the others drifted back into the front room. John cut a second helping of pie for him, and Guy couldn’t refuse.

      “How are things going? David speaks highly of your help on the farm.”

      Guy raised his eyebrows as he swallowed a bite of pie. “You wouldn’t know it to hear him some days. It seems I can’t do anything right.”

      Especially yesterday. He had driven the wagon too close to the corner of the shed and had spent the rest of the afternoon whitewashing the scraped siding.

      John grinned. “I’m sure my boys think that about me, sometimes.” He shrugged. “But how else will you learn to be a good farmer?”

      Guy stared at the plate in his hand. Is that what David was doing? Teaching him to be a farmer?

      “I’m not sure that’s what I want.”

      John scraped the last crumbs of his pie into a pile with the back of his fork. “Don’t be too quick to decide. Ask for God’s direction.”

      Guy nodded. “Sure.” Ask God. That’s what Verna would tell him.

      “Meanwhile, СКАЧАТЬ