The Englishers were perfectly acceptable as tourists or as customers, but not as playmates for their children. Thomas knew that full well—part of the reason why Rue desperately needed plain clothing. When he was a boy, he’d learned the same lesson—don’t chat with them, don’t do anything more than give a quick answer to a question if forced, and never form friendships with other Englisher children. They wouldn’t understand the Amish way, and they’d do what Englishers always did—try to find some common ground with which to lure you away from the narrow path.
Englishers were necessary for an income, but dangerous to their way of life. It was a delicate line to walk, and Amish children learned it early.
“Daddy?” Rue asked, her voice carrying. “Daddy?”
Thomas looked down at her, trying not to let his own tension show, but he wasn’t sure he managed it. He would not let his daughter think that he was embarrassed of her.
“Yes, Rue?” he murmured.
“I like the one with flowers.”
“We don’t have dresses with flowers, Rue,” he reminded her. “We’re Amish.”
And when Thomas looked up, he saw the direct stares of both women—aghast and suddenly understanding perfectly. They quietly herded the girls out of the store in front of them, and the bell tinkled as they left.
Judgment felt heaviest when it was deserved.
Thomas came up beside Patience, and she could feel the anger radiating off him. He placed a protective hand on Rue’s head, but when she met his gaze, his eyes glittered, and his jaw was clenched. She caught her breath. Had she done something? She’d been focused on choosing cloth—
“It’s not you,” he murmured, as if reading her mind. “We need to get back. Have you finished choosing things?”
“Yah,” she said. “This will do.”
She’d chosen a blue color of fabric that would bring out Rue’s beautiful eyes, and a soft pink, because she thought that Rue would like it.
“Good.” He turned to Lovina and briskly pulled a wallet from his pocket. “How much?”
Patience waited as Thomas paid the bill, pocketed his wallet once more and picked up the bag.
“We’ll see you,” Lovina said with a smile.
“Yah.” Thomas scooped up his daughter’s hand. “Let’s go now.”
“Wait.” Lovina picked up a basket of hard candies and lowered it down to Rue’s level. “Because you were so good, Rue. You can have two.”
Rue’s eyes lit up and she took a moment to choose her two candies. Patience looked over at Thomas, searching for a hint of what the trouble was, and the bell over the door tinkled again, another group of Amish shoppers coming inside.
“Thank you, Lovina,” Thomas said tightly as Rue picked up her second candy. “Let’s go.”
Thomas didn’t look up as they made their way to the door, but Patience nodded at the women. This would be her community, too, after all, and soon she’d get to know many of these women in kitchens and at hymn sings.
Thomas headed out the door, and Patience had to quicken her pace to catch up. The door swung shut behind them and the warm August air enveloped them once more.
“I was wrong to take Rue to town like this. She looks—” He sighed and changed to German. “She draws attention.”
“People will look later, too,” Patience pointed out, following his lead in speaking in the language the child wouldn’t understand. “They’ll get used to seeing her, though.”
“It’s not just the staring.” Thomas led the way around the building toward the buggy parking in the rear. “They pulled their girls away from her.”
As they would... But Patience’s heart gave a squeeze. Yes, that would sting. Had Rue noticed? She looked down to see Rue watching them in mild confusion. She gave Rue a reassuring smile.
“It was my fault,” Thomas said. “I shouldn’t have put her in the middle of that kind of scrutiny. We’ll go back home and...and...”
“And not be seen,” Patience finished for him.
Thomas didn’t answer, but he cast her one forlorn look. She’d been right—that was his hope. He just wanted to get her out of the public eye. They approached the buggy, still hitched, and Thomas took the feed bags off the horses.
“For how long?” Patience asked pointedly.
“What?” He ran a hand over the horses’ muscular necks, then looked back at her.
“How long will you keep her hidden away at the house with Mary?” Patience asked.
“A woman’s place—” he began.
“A girl needs friends,” she countered, interrupting. It wasn’t right for a woman to cut a man off when he was speaking, but her heart was beating fast. “A girl needs to know people—see people. Yes, her place is in her home, and one day she’ll marry and make a home of her own, but if she’s treated like a dirty secret—”
“She is not a dirty secret!” Thomas snapped back. “She’s a vulnerable little girl and her daet has done wrong. I’m trying to protect her.”
She knew he was only trying to protect his daughter, and he was right that some proper Amish clothes would make her more presentable...
“Thomas, I’m not saying we shouldn’t go home right now. I’m only pointing out that there will be explaining anyway,” Patience said. “She will be a surprise, regardless, and as uncomfortable as it is, you will have to tell the story again and again. As soon as she speaks, or can’t answer a German question, it’ll be clear she’s Englisher. There’s no hiding that.”
“Yah.” Thomas sighed. “But once she looks proper with a kapp and a dress, will they pull their children away still?”
Patience couldn’t answer that. They may very well.
“Daddy?” Rue said, and instead of answering, Thomas picked her up and deposited her on the buggy seat.
“Wait there,” he said with a forced smile, and then he turned to Patience again. “I’ve been the subject of gossip before. My mother left the community when my father died. She couldn’t do it alone—walk the narrow path. She said she had friends
