Her New Amish Family. Carrie Lighte

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СКАЧАТЬ could visit Willow Creek, Patience’s face would cloud with sadness as she said no, it was better for everyone if they didn’t. “We’re happy right where we are, aren’t we?” she’d ask Trina, and Trina always answered yes because it was true. As long as they were together, they were happy. Trina sniffed as she realized her mother would never be with her again. Did that mean Trina would never be happy again, either? She knew she couldn’t allow herself to dwell on such thoughts or she’d never make it through her time in Willow Creek, so she prayed the Lord would give her peace and then she went to draw a bath.

      But before she reached the washroom, there was a knock at the door. In the kitchen, Trina peered through the door’s glass pane to see Seth holding a plate wrapped in tin foil in one hand and Martha’s basket from yesterday in the other.

      “Yes?” she said coldly after opening the door.

      “My groossmammi sent these for you,” he replied, lifting the items in her direction.

      Since they were from Martha, Trina couldn’t refuse them. “Please tell her I said denki.” She reached for the plate but Seth held on to the basket, stepping into the kitchen uninvited.

      “How’s the mouse situation?” he asked. “Did the trap do the trick?”

      “I don’t know. I haven’t checked.”

      He set the basket on the table, crossed the room and pried the cupboard open. To Trina’s relief, he announced, “Neh, nothing yet.” Then he closed the cupboard and rubbed his arms. “Seems a little cold in here. I can show you how to get a gut fire roaring if you’d like.”

      Trina didn’t know why he was suddenly being so congenial, but she wished he’d leave. Not just because she was still miffed, but because the aroma of the meal he brought was making her feel even more famished and she could hardly wait to eat. “Actually, I’m rather warm,” she said, tossing her ponytail.

      “I imagine you are,” Seth replied, his lips twitching. “Wearing a quilt has that effect on people.”

      Trina rolled her eyes and shrugged the quilt from her shoulders. She folded it into a misshapen square, which she held in front of her stomach to muffle the growling sound it was making. “I suppose I could add another log to the fire.”

      “I’ll grab a couple more from outside, since the bin in the parlor is probably low,” Seth volunteered and exited the house before Trina could object.

      As soon as he left, Trina lifted an edge of the tinfoil from the plate and dug into the casserole with a fork. When Seth returned, her mouth was full, but she mumbled, “Denki for bringing those in, but I’ve gone camping before, so I’m capable of stoking the fire myself.”

      “Is that what you think being Amish means? It’s like going camping?”

      Why was he suddenly defensive again? “No, that’s what I think lighting a fire is like,” Trina clarified after swallowing. “If you’ve built one outside, you can build one inside.”

      “Actually, that’s not necessarily true. Kumme, let me show you.”

      She reluctantly put her supper down and went into the parlor with him.

      “Ah,” he said when he opened the door to the woodstove. “Look at this.”

      Trina crouched down beside him. She watched his hands gesturing as he spoke, oddly aware those were the same strong hands that had lifted her the day before.

      “You’ve done alright with the kindling, but you’ve piled the logs too tightly together,” he explained, not unkindly. “There needs to be a little room between them for the oxygen to get through. Otherwise, the logs won’t take and the flame will burn out like it has now. It’s better if you stack them like this.”

      As she listened to him, it occurred to Trina he would make a good teacher. She glanced sideways at his face, noticing the reddish undertone to his short beard. She wondered if it would feel like his wool coat had felt against her cheek. Suddenly her skin burned and she knew she couldn’t attribute its warmth to the fire now crackling in the stove.

      “Denki,” she said, standing up.

      Seth rose, too, saying, “I want to apologize if I embarrassed you when I asked you to tell me the song you taught the buwe.”

      If Trina’s face hadn’t felt hot before, it would have now under Seth’s earnest gaze. “It’s alright,” she conceded, and suddenly, it was.

      She realized if a virtual stranger—especially one who had traditions that were different from her own—came to watch her children, she’d give them guidelines about what the kids could and couldn’t do. In fact, when she used to babysit as a teenager, parents always told her what the house rules were. It wasn’t personal, she’d just taken it that way because of Seth’s comments about her being Englisch. But maybe she was the one who was being defensive because he was Amish, instead of vice versa. Or maybe it was a little of both.

      “I respect the way you’re raising your kinner and I want to instruct the buwe according to your guidelines,” she said. “Do you have a few minutes to talk about that now?”

      “Jah.” Seth grinned, and his jawline visibly softened as he sank into the sofa.

      First, Trina hoped she put Seth’s mind at ease by telling him she shared his strong Christian faith. Then they briefly discussed his expectations of the boys as well as their interests and the activities they were forbidden to do. Nothing Seth mentioned seemed unduly prohibitive or out of the ordinary to Trina, but she was glad they’d had the discussion anyway.

      “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then?” Seth confirmed as he was leaving.

      Did Trina catch a note of uncertainty in his voice? “Jah, I’ll be there bright and early at seven forty-five,” she assured him.

      “Then I’ll be sure to set the rooster for six forty-five,” he said over his shoulder before closing the door, and Trina laughed in spite of herself.

      Her supper had cooled but she didn’t care. The casserole was so delicious she couldn’t believe she’d made it herself—well, with advice from Martha. Trina never had much interest in cooking, aside from a few traditional Amish desserts her mother taught her to make. Usually by the time she returned home from work she was so hungry and worn out she would just to throw a meal into the microwave.

      She was pleased to see the basket contained eggs, milk and half a loaf of bread. Martha was as thoughtful and generous as Trina’s mother had said she was. Her tummy full, Trina washed the dishes and before she got ready for bed, she retrieved her cell phone and set its alarm. She didn’t want to be late again, especially now that she and Seth were on better terms with each other.

      * * *

      Once he’d cleared the air with Trina, Seth felt more comfortable having her mind the boys, who relished their time with her. Each evening when he came to the door, they regaled him with anecdotes about the adventures they’d had with her during the day. And although his grandmother had always been lively, she seemed even sprightlier now. Seth couldn’t tell whether that was because Trina had taken over the boy’s care, or because Martha enjoyed having the company of another woman, but he was pleased the arrangement was off to a good start.

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