Clara held out her arms. “May I hold Ruby for a while? I will miss the time I’ve spent with you and with Faith, but it is this little one that I shall miss the most of all.”
He handed the sleeping baby to her. “I had better go see what jobs Faith is assigning to Micah. It’s always best when the grown-ups present a unified front.”
Clara held the baby close as Adrian left the room. She would miss being here more than she cared to admit. She loved babies. The Lord had found a beautiful way to begin people. Children were a constant reminder of God’s love and grace in the world.
Clara’s one great sadness was that she would never hold a babe of her own. The idea of marriage was utterly repugnant after her treatment at the hands of her would-be fiancé. No, she would remain single. She took a seat in the rocker and cuddled the baby until Faith returned.
Smiling, Faith crossed the room. “I’ll take her now.”
“Are you sure I can’t take her home with me?”
Faith propped her hands on her hips. “I could let you, but you’ll bring her back about three o’clock in the morning.”
“My sisters and I have raised a dozen bottle lambs on our grandfather’s farm this spring. I think we could manage this little lamb, too.”
Faith lifted the babe from her arms. “I’m sure you could. You will have babes of your own someday. Is there any young man in our community who has caught your fancy?” Faith asked with a quick peek in Clara’s direction and a knowing smile.
“Nee, marriage isn’t for me.” Clara looked down and didn’t elaborate. Oddly, Ethan’s face popped into her head. He needed a wife to look after his children.
Why should she think of him now?
Faith took a seat in the chair beside her. “I know some of your story, Clara. I know you escaped marriage to a brutal man by running away on your wedding day.”
Clara looked up, startled. “How did you find out?”
“Your sister Lizzie told me about it.”
“It was by the grace of God and by my sister Lizzie’s determination to save me that I was spared a life of hopelessness and pain.” Clara laid a hand to her cheek as she remembered the painful slap of Rufus’s heavy hand striking her.
Faith nodded. “Lizzie was very brave to travel all the way from Indiana to Hope Springs on her own. She was determined to find a place for you and your sisters to live. We are all thankful that she convinced your grandfather to take you in.”
“No one is more thankful than I am. Lizzie is the brave one. I could never have done what she did. If Rufus Kuhns had been determined to marry her instead of me, I wouldn’t have been able to save her.”
“You don’t know that,” Faith said gently.
“Ja, I do.”
“Is it true that Lizzie is going to marry your grandfather’s hired man in the fall?”
Relieved to speak of something else, Clara smiled. “Ja.”
“Carl King seems like a good man.”
Clara bit the corner of her lip. “I think he is.”
“You think, but you aren’t sure?”
Was she that transparent? Over the past few months, as the women had worked side by side in the bright and cheerful room, Clara had shared some of her life and had learned some of Faith’s story, as well. Faith’s first husband had been an abusive man. She had been a widow when she moved to Hope Springs.
Clara looked up and gazed intently into Faith’s eyes. “How did you know that Adrian wouldn’t turn out to be cruel, too? Weren’t you afraid?”
Faith smiled gently. “Of course I was. I felt as you do. I thought I would never be able to trust another man, but Adrian changed all that the first time he touched my face. There was so much gentleness in that touch. I knew he would never hurt me. I understand your fear, but there are good men, kind men, men who spend a lifetime loving their wives and being helpmates. You will find one.”
The very idea of submitting to a husband turned her insides cold. “My head tells me what you say is right, but I don’t feel that way. And this conversation has no point because there is no one interested in courting me. I should be getting home. I told Lizzie that I would help her finish canning corn this afternoon.”
“I understand. I’ll pray for you, Clara. I will pray that God has someone special in mind for you.”
Clara gathered her things together. “Pray that I get hired as the new schoolteacher. That’s what I truly want to do. I want to teach and take care of dozens of children. I can’t imagine a more perfect job.”
“Okay, I’ll do that, too. I’ll see you again at the Sunday’s service.”
The two women kissed each other’s cheeks, and Clara left the room. Outside, she saw Micah carrying a large armload of alfalfa hay toward the alpacas’ enclosure. She crossed the yard toward him. “Good day, Micah. I’m glad to see you have come to do chores as you promised.”
“My onkel promised I would come. I didn’t.”
His sullen expression worried her. “Your onkel was right in this. Your punishment could have been much worse.”
“Worse than the whipping I took? I doubt it. A lot you care. You’re the one who got me in trouble.”
“You got into trouble all by yourself, Micah. You have no reason to blame me. I seriously doubt that your onkel Ethan gave you a whipping.”
“He did. The minute you left he...he paddled me so hard I couldn’t sit down for hours.”
Clara folded her arms over her chest. “You are a very poor liar, Micah Gingerich.”
“I am not!”
She arched her eyebrow. “You’re not a poor liar? Then I reckon that makes you a good liar.”
He scowled at her. “I’ve got to go feed those stupid animals.” He trudged away without looking at her again.
She shook her head and muttered under her breath, “Poor Ethan. You really have your hands full with this one.”
How would he manage? It was painfully clear the boy was determined to tread the wrong path. Such defiance in one so young did not bode well for the family.
As she watched Micah enter the corral, she saw him spread out the hay, then slowly reach his hand toward one of the babies in the group who had come close to investigate. The hopeful expression on Micah’s face told her he liked the alpacas even if he wouldn’t admit it.
The baby stretched his nose toward Micah. The tentative exchange was cut short when Myrtle alerted the rest of the herd with a shrill whistling sound. The baby and all the others scampered away from Micah to the opposite side of the corral. He kicked the hay at his feet and stomped off.
Clara left the Lapp farm and walked toward her grandfather’s home. As she followed the winding country road, she couldn’t stop thinking about Micah’s attitude and Ethan’s inability to connect with the boy. Was there some way she could help?
She didn’t see how. Her job with Faith was finished for this summer. She wouldn’t be back to see how Micah faired with his week of chores unless she simply came for a visit.
Since the Gingeriches were members of a different church congregation, Micah wouldn’t attend the school where she hoped to teach. If she got the job, and if he were one of her students, she would have some contact and influence over him, but she couldn’t see a way to spend time with the troubled boy as things stood now.
She was crossing the small bridge that spanned