Brian's Choice (4 page)

Katie added their schedule to the left-hand side of the chalkboard. Brian had to admit her handwriting was much better than his, and he felt better having another adult in the room. It was silly to be intimidated by children, but then there would soon be so many of them, no doubt in all shapes and sizes.

Katie turned and gave him a reassuring smile, which he ignored. No doubt she would think he was rude, but that was the least of his worries. He couldn't spend the next four months working with a young, beautiful woman. The memory of Bridgette jumped into his mind again, but he pushed it away. He was living a new life now, and he was not going to repeat the same mistakes. He wasn't going to allow even the possibility of putting someone else in danger.

Which was ridiculous. What danger could she be in working in a schoolhouse? That wasn't the point, though.

He didn't want to be working with a young woman. He didn't need the sharp reminder of Bridgette and how he had ruined her life. Perhaps Katie would marry soon, and then she would quit. He could learn to handle a classroom of forty, especially with the boys' help.

But he'd never actually been in a classroom with so many children. As they entered the schoolhouse, placing lunch boxes near the coatracks at the back and jostling for seats, he realized he was completely out of his depth. He'd never been afraid of lecturing. He'd always enjoyed sharing what he knew about Shakespeare and Milton and Yates. If only this were so simple.

Taking a last sip of his coffee, he stood and walked to the front of the room.

FIVE

Katie watched Brian standing at the front of the room and wondered what she'd gotten herself into. She'd expected an elderly man, someone wrinkled with gray hair. He was older, yes—close to thirty if she guessed right—but his hair wasn't gray. It was red. She'd never known anyone with red hair before.

He'd had it cut traditionally, what the
Englischers
called a bowl cut, and he wore Amish clothing, but was he Amish? What had caused him to seek out their way of life? What about the family and friends he'd left behind? And why did he avoid looking at her? The questions tumbled through her mind until she realized she should be helping, not sitting in a corner staring at the poor man.

After introducing himself, Brian picked up the Bible off the teacher's desk. Tom had found it tucked in a bottom drawer.

“Katie tells me I'm to read to you from the Scripture each morning, but because I didn't know that—” he waited for the giggles to subside. “I didn't pick anything out ahead of time.”

A young boy on the second row raised his hand. “We could start at the beginning.”

“A fine idea.” Brian opened the Bible, which fortunately was a German-
Englisch
parallel text, and began to read from the first chapter of Genesis, verse one.

Whatever his shortcomings were as a teacher, he was certainly a fine reader. His voice resonated with each word—deep and full and almost musical. Katie had never heard Scripture read like that before. In their church services she barely paid attention, and at home they always read their Bibles silently. She rested her chin on her palm and listened as Brian read about the beginning and the creation.

After that the morning passed so quickly that Katie barely had time to worry she would do something wrong. She led the students in the morning songs, which was easy enough. Though she didn't have a wonderful voice, it was clear and strong, and the children had no trouble following her.

Brian had written arithmetic assignments on the board for each grade. After the singing, he briefly went over the school rules, and then textbooks were pulled out and students began to work on the math problems. Katie worked with the youngest students, which included her nephews. Brian walked up and down the rows, occasionally pausing to comment on a child's work or help when one seemed perplexed by a problem. If they ever ended up on the same row, he promptly turned and walked off in the other direction. His behavior seemed a bit odd, but who was she to say? She'd never been a teacher's helper before.

Math was followed by reading. Katie taught the four lower grades, and Brian worked with grades five through eight. She'd warned him to only spend ten to fifteen minutes per grade, and he'd answered with, “What can I teach in ten minutes?”

“You're not teaching so much as explaining the assignment and then helping the ones who are a bit lost.”

“So they know how to read?”

“The older students certainly do. The younger ones will need more help, but I taught my little
bruder
to read, so I can handle that.”

“What about my students?” He frowned at her and then quickly looked away. “What if they have trouble with the text? How much do
I help? Do I pull them into a smaller group away from the others? I've never taught reading before, only…only theory and composition.”

“We'll help one another.” She reached out and put a hand on his arm to assure him that all would be fine, but he quickly stepped away. “The students are used to this way of learning, Brian. You'll see.”

He glanced at her skeptically, and then he nodded once and walked away. He actually did better than expected moving between the grades. She kept her eye on him in case he needed help, but he seemed to slip into the role of teacher well. The morning passed quickly, and Katie was surprised and relieved when Brian called for recess.

She longed to stay inside to ask him about his previous life and why he was spending his time in a one-room Amish schoolhouse. She didn't, though. He'd turned his back to her as soon as the children began traipsing outside. He couldn't have made it clearer that he wanted to spend his lunchtime alone, so Katie followed the students outside. She helped them find the equipment needed to begin a game of softball, dusted off one of the younger girls when she fell off the seesaw, and watched for any disagreements between the students.

When she overhead three of the older girls discussing their new teacher, she distracted them by suggesting they fill a pail with fallen leaves for decorating the classroom.

Once she glanced up and saw Brian staring out the window. She offered a little wave, but he turned away without waving back. Perhaps he hadn't seen her, or maybe he was being purposely aloof.

Regardless of the reasons for his demeanor, Katie found that she enjoyed her new job. She had worked plenty of jobs in the past—as a baker's assistant, in a quilt shop, and even at a dry goods store. Always the person who hired her tried to be patient and teach her what she needed to know, but her mind would dart here and there. She had trouble focusing on what the person said, and when she was left alone she had no idea how to complete her task. The results had been disastrous.

Somehow, being in a schoolroom felt natural. Maybe because she'd grown up in one. Or maybe because her nephews kept smiling at her, even William, who was often very serious.

It was also possible she felt less intimidated by this job because her boss was so obviously out of his depth. She wasn't exactly sure what Brian had taught in his
Englisch
world, but his students obviously hadn't been small children. She also didn't know why he seemed so stiff and formal with her. Because they had never met before this morning and she'd not had time to offend him in any way, she assumed his cold manner had nothing to do with her. Perhaps he was uncomfortable around women.

If they were to work together until Christmas, she'd have to find a way to break down the defensive barrier he'd carefully placed around himself. That wouldn't be easy, but if there was one thing that Katie liked, it was a challenge.

SIX

The next two weeks passed quickly.

Katie was thrilled at how smoothly things were progressing. Not only were the students behaving well, but Brian seemed to have relaxed somewhat around her. He still kept an almost laughable physical distance between them, as if she might have some contagious disease, but he had stopped avoiding her company.

For instance, they now ate lunch together at the picnic table under a maple tree. For Brian this seemed to be a concession of some sort, as if the temptation to be outside in the wonderful fall sunshine was too great. The cost was that he had to sit by his helper because there was only the one table—though he was careful to sit at the opposite end. Katie found such things amusing, but she didn't worry about it any longer. She'd discussed Brian's odd behavior with JoAnna, who had smiled and suggested she give him time.

She'd done exactly that, being careful not to touch him or stand too close. The result was that he'd edged out of his shell, like a turtle hoping the world might be safe.

Because they ate their lunch outside, students always joined them—in particular the older girls, who seemed to have something of a crush on their new teacher. But as soon as they were finished eating, off they
would go in a flurry of giggles and whispers. The younger students had to be convinced to finish their lunches. They preferred running and playing as children should.

“Classes are going well,” he said.

“Yes, but it's best to be realistic.”

“Meaning what?”

“Students are students and the same everywhere. Never let your guard down.”

“Are you kidding me?”

Katie had mentioned the lunches to her sister, and JoAnna had asked if she was going sweet on Brian. A ridiculous suggestion. He was eight years older and showed no interest in courting her, at least none she could hang her bonnet on.

“Our students are like superheroes,” he said, studying the apple he was slicing.

“Superheroes?”

“You know Batman, Catwoman, Iron Man—”

“A man made of iron?”

Brian glanced up from his apple and laughed. “My
Englisch
upbringing is showing.”

“
Ya
. I guess so. We have no men made of iron.”

“It's a cartoon. You know, a fictional book with pictures.”

“I've seen cartoons.” Katie rolled her eyes at him. Did he think the Amish were completely sheltered? Everyone had seen cartoons.

Much of their lunch discussions followed this pattern. He would let slip inconsequential details of his past life, and she would ask questions. Twice now he had asked her about Ohio and growing up Amish. They never spent lunchtime discussing lesson plans. Brian claimed their brains needed a break from the heavy task of educating munchkins. Yes, he'd actually used the word
munchkins
, though he'd said it fondly so she supposed it was a compliment.

“I just mean our students are excellent scholars. They're better behaved than some of the college students I taught.”

“Perhaps, but remember what I told you. They have been on their best behavior the first few weeks. I expect trouble any minute.”

“Are you a pessimist, Katie?”

“
Nein
, but I remember what it's like being a child. It hasn't been that long since I was in school. They wait for teachers to let down their guard.”

At that moment there was a chorus of screams from the vicinity of the girls' outhouse.

“Speaking of letting down our guards—”

They both jogged toward the gathered children.

Little Edna Eberly was sitting in the dirt surrounded by the other girls. Katie noticed that the boys were standing off to the side, and two of the older boys in particular were stifling giggles.

“What is it, Edna? What's wrong?” Brian knelt beside the girl in the dust. He left the teaching of the young students to Katie, but he often watched them curiously. Little children seemed to fascinate him, as if he couldn't quite conceive how they changed from child to teenager. He'd admitted a few days earlier that he was an only child.

Edna threw her arms around his neck and began sobbing. All Katie could make out were the words
snake
and
outhouse
and
scared
.

Three of the older girls—Stella, Paige, and Suzanne, stood at a distance, their eyes locked on Brian. Stella turned to the other girls, whispered something, and then looked at the boys who were lurking a few feet away.

Katie understood immediately what had happened and almost walked over to the two oldest boys—John and Curtis—to confront them. They were standing near the back of the group, snickering and covering their mouths with their hands.

She needn't have worried.

Brian dried Edna's tears with his thumbs before motioning for Katie to come and sit with her. Then he stood up, brushed off his trousers, and walked toward the boys.

She had wondered about this moment. How would he react to trouble? She'd had all manner of teachers growing up. Some had been overzealous about discipline and others had been terribly lax. The week before she had asked him his opinion on disciplining students. His response had caught her off guard, for it seemed to reveal more than all of their lunch conversations combined.

“Do you believe in grace, Katie?”

“
Ya
, of course, but—”