A Hand to Hold (16 page)

“Fix the window?” Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “You knew the window was broken?”

“Ah,
ya
. I meant to repair it the other day but I, um, forgot. But I can fix it now.” He tried to smile, but he was only half successful.

Her chin rose. “It’s . . .” She cleared her throat. “It’s all right.”

But Zach didn’t believe her. “It’s not all right. I should have fixed that window long before. Why were you hanging out of it anyway?”

Her eyes darted downward. “I forgot my key.”

“I have mine. I can let you in.” Glad to do something useful, he walked around to the front of the school. Ruth followed right behind him. He dug inside the pocket of his pants and pulled out a key ring with two keys: one belonging to the school and the other for the buggy shop.
Herr
Kline had given him the key on Saturday when he had arrived at work. Zachariah had taken that as a sign that Kline thought he was responsible. But where had that responsibility been when it came to fixing the window? If he had remembered to repair and lock it, Ruth would have been waiting outside the door instead of hanging out of the window. And if he hadn’t come by when he had . . . he didn’t want to think about that.

He turned and looked at her as she picked up her purse, then reached for a big, black leather bag. “I can get that for you.”

“I’ve got it.” She grabbed the bag and headed for the entrance.

“All right. It should only take me a minute to fix the window.” He started to go inside, but she stopped him.

“I need to prepare for my class,” she said. “Could you come back later today and fix the window?”

“Are you sure? It’s going to get hot in there.”

“I’ll leave the door open.”

“Hang on a minute.” He dashed into the school and breathed in the lingering scent of fresh paint. He inspected the window on the opposite side of the room, then called out, “Do you have a ruler?”

“Wooden or plastic?”

He smiled. Leave it to her to have both kinds. “Wooden will work.” When she handed it to him, he opened the window and stuck the wooden ruler upright in the corner, letting the window rest on top of it. After he checked to make sure it would hold, he turned and faced her. “That should stay open until I come back.”

She peered at his quick fix and nodded.

He moved toward her but made sure there was a decent amount of space between them this time. “I’m really sorry about the window. I promise I’ll take care of it this afternoon.”

“School ends at three o’clock. You can come after then.” Ruth walked over to her desk. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get started. I’m behind as it is.”

“Right.” He walked toward the door, giving the schoolroom a quick scan as he went. With the freshly painted wall, new flooring, and a couple of secondhand but high quality wooden bookshelves he’d gotten for a decent price, he had to admit everything looked pretty good. He had one foot in the doorway when he heard her speak.

“
Danki
, Zachariah.”

He turned and looked at her. She stood behind her desk, her hands folded in front of her white apron, which was slightly wrinkled but still looked nice on her. “Zach,” he suddenly said.

“What?”

“I wish you would call me Zach. Zachariah is too much of a mouthful.”

Looking unsure, she said, “All right . . . Zach.”

He thought she might say something else, but instead she pulled out her chair and sat down. She opened a desk drawer and pulled out a stack of file folders and placed them on her desk.

Looks like I’m dismissed
. But as he turned to walk out the door, out of the corner of his eye, he caught her glancing at him. He grinned. Maybe she wasn’t as emotionless as he thought.

After Zachariah—
Zach
, she had to remind herself—left the school, Ruth fluttered around the classroom making sure everything was in place but feeling like her life was completely out of control. Getting stuck in the window had thrown off the rhythm of her day. But that wasn’t the only thing flustering her. She had Zach to thank for knocking her completely off-kilter.

But he’d showed up just when she needed him. While she wanted to be irritated with him for not repairing the window, she couldn’t. In fact, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. He had actually touched her cheek. Not a simple touch either, more like a tender caress. And to her surprise, she
enjoyed
it. That didn’t make sense at all.

She put her fingertips to her temples, as if the pressure could derail her thoughts. She had no business thinking about Zach that way, or in any way. She couldn’t possibly be attracted to him, much less like him. They were complete opposites; anyone could see that. She must’ve been oxygen-deprived while she’d been trapped in the window.

Fifteen minutes before school was scheduled to start, she could hear voices outside. Forcing her mind to focus on her job, she walked over to the window and looked out onto the playground, where a simple wooden play set stood to the right. Several students romped around the yard, many of them barefoot, their shoes lined up near the schoolhouse. Watching them running around calmed her down. She was finally getting the chance to teach. She said a quick prayer and called for the children to come inside, pleased when they complied.

She directed the younger children to the desks near the front. Once those were filled, she told the older students to sit at the long table Zach had set up, apologizing for the lack of desks and promising they would have their own as soon as possible. When everyone was seated, she moved to the front of the room and faced the class.

Suddenly her mouth went dry. All eyes were on her. Expecting her to say something. To do something. Her gaze darted around the group of children, who ranged in age from six to thirteen. Twenty children. Eight grades. What made her think she could do this? When she didn’t say anything right away, they started to whisper.

Dear Lord, help me. Take these nerves away
.

The prayer calmed her enough to say, “
Gut morgen, kinner
.” She moved over to the board where she had written her name. “I’m
Fraulien
Byler. B-Y-L-E-R.” She touched each letter as she spelled it out. “I’m your new teacher this year.” She looked at them and smiled.

“We already know your name.” Eight-year-old Billy Stoltzfus rubbed his nose.

“We always see you at church,” Sarah, Billy’s six-year-old sister, added.

Ruth paused. “Um,
ya
, you do. But since this is our first day of school, I thought a formal introduction would be appropriate.” Her students stared back at her, confused expressions on their faces. “And, uh, we’re going to have a great time learning to be
gut
and diligent students.”

Lori Fisher raised her tiny hand. The towheaded girl was her youngest student, barely six. “What does
dilibent
mean?”

“Not ‘dilibent.’
Diligent
.
Diligent
means to take
gut
care of your work. To do it to the best of your ability, thoroughly, and turn it in on time.”

“And what if we don’t?”

Ruth looked up at an older boy sitting as far in the back of the room as possible. He was slouching in his seat, his arms crossed over his chest, a sullen expression on his face. She didn’t recognize him. “What if we don’t what?”

“Be diligent. What happens if we aren’t?”

The question threw her off guard. She wasn’t expecting this on the first day, and certainly not within the first five minutes of class. Actually she wasn’t expecting the question at all. “Well . . .” She put on her reading glasses, then picked up her seating chart from her desk. Jacob Kline. Now she remembered him, the son of the owner of Kline’s Buggy Shop. “Jacob, if you’re not diligent, then you’ll have to face the consequences.”

“What consequences?”

“I was just about to explain those to all of you.” Taking the segue, she explained the classroom rules to her pupils, most of whom listened with interest, or at least pretended to. She glanced at the back of the room a couple of times and noticed Jacob had put his head down on his arms, which were lying on the table.

“Jacob, I would appreciate if you give me your attention while I’m talking.”

“I’m paying attention.” With his face covered by his arms, his voice was muffled.

“It doesn’t look that way to me. When you’re paying attention to someone, you’re looking directly at them.”

He lifted his head and stared at her with belligerence, his gray eyes piercing her. “Better?”

She didn’t speak for a moment, confused by the anger she saw in his eyes. “
Ya
,” she finally said slowly, trying to figure out the best way to react to him.
“Danki.”

He tilted his head to the side and continued to stare at her, as if in challenge. She pulled her gaze away and tried to focus on the other nineteen students who were being more cooperative.

She spent the rest of the morning passing out textbooks and giving a writing assignment. Fortunately that process went smoothly. When she finished, she said, “I’d like you to spend the next several minutes writing about your summer break. You might have noticed each of you has a brand new spiral notebook and pencil on either your desk or the table.”

Jacob had put his head back down, refusing to touch the notebook. Not knowing what else to do, she ignored him. “These are your writing journals. You can put your first assignment in them. First graders, I want you to draw a picture of something fun you did on your summer vacation. The rest of you will write at least a paragraph.” She went to the blackboard and picked up a piece of white chalk. “I’d like you to write this heading at the top of the page: your name, date, Writing Assignment 1.” She heard the sound of something hitting the floor and she turned around. “What was that?”

Billy raised his hand. “Jacob shoved his notebook on the floor.”

Ruth expected Jacob to refute Billy’s claim, but he didn’t. Instead he stared at her with utter defiance. Her blood pressure started to spike and she fought to remain calm. “Jacob, please pick up your journal and start your writing assignment.”

He looked at her for a moment, then stomped his foot on top of the journal. “Oops.” Sarcasm dripped from the word. But he didn’t pick up the notebook.

Ruth wasn’t sure what to do. Should she yell at him? The books she’d read about classroom management and discipline warned that yelling would only escalate the problem. She’d never met a child like this. Amish children were taught to be respectful to their elders. Although she wasn’t more than a few years older than Jacob, she still deserved his respect. “
Kinner
, please start on your assignments. Jacob, I’d like to see you outside for a moment.”

Jacob sauntered to the front of the schoolhouse, then out the door. Ruth followed. But Jacob didn’t turn around or stop like she expected him to. Instead, he kept on walking.

“Jacob,” she said loudly, but he continued to walk away. She started after him but realized she couldn’t leave her other students to chase after him. “Come back here!”

He kept on walking toward the road.

Her eyes widened, and something inside her started to roil. How dare he? Struggling to slow her heart rate, she balled her fists and counted to ten. Then twenty. Finally when she hit thirty-five, she was calm enough to go inside.

School had only been in session for two hours, and already she felt like a failure.

Zach steered his buggy toward the schoolhouse at three o’clock sharp. Before he turned in the driveway, though, he watched the students pour out of the building and head off in different directions. Some of the little ones ran in the grass on the side of the road while the older ones hovered behind them, making sure they stayed out of harm’s way.

Zach grinned, wistful. As much trouble as he’d had in school, he missed some of those carefree days, when he used to race his friends down the street or stop off in an open field and play a pickup game of baseball. He usually arrived home late, but the trouble he got in was worth it. Sometimes.

He tied his horse to the hitching post and got out. What he saw when he walked inside stopped him in his tracks. The schoolhouse was pretty much the way he’d left it, and the ruler had remained in the window, letting in the fresh air. But what surprised him was seeing Ruth at her desk, her head resting in her hands. He frowned and took a step forward. She jerked up her head at the sound of his boot heel hitting the floor.