“Yes, Mammi has made some sticky buns. She thought you might like that,” Thomas said.
He turned around and led the way to the house, feeling that strange distance between himself and that little girl behind him. Rue had never met him, but he’d also never had a chance to even see her... He’d been a daet, but until this very moment, it had been theoretical. How was he supposed to do this—be a daet to an Englisher child? There was a time he thought he could be an Englisher himself, but that was when he was young and foolish, and he’d forgotten that it wasn’t possible to change what a man was born to.
Tanya brought Rue indoors, and introductions were made. Amos. Noah. Mammi. Mammi’s name was Mary Lapp, but she was never called Mary in this house. Rue stared silently around the room, looking stricken. Thomas sank down to his haunches in front of her.
“Hello, Rue,” he said quietly.
“Hello...” she whispered.
“This is all very new, isn’t it?” he said.
“Yes. I want my mommy...” Tears welled in her eyes, and Thomas reached out and patted her shoulder.
“Have you had a...daddy...before?” He hesitated over the English word. Had Tina moved on with another Englisher man? That was what he was asking.
“No, never,” she whispered. His heart clenched. How much wrong had he done in that woman’s life? He’d known better, and he wouldn’t ever completely forgive himself for the way he’d conducted himself in that relationship.
“You’ll call me Daet,” he said softly. “And I’ll take care of you. You’ll be safe and happy here, yah?”
Rue wiped her eyes on her teddy bear and looked hesitantly around the kitchen again. Her bright pants and T-shirt were in stark contrast to their plain clothing.
“Where’s the TV?” Rue whispered.
“We don’t have a TV,” he said.
“How come?” She frowned, peering past him as if he were hiding it somewhere, and Thomas couldn’t help but smile.
“Because we’re Amish, Rue. You’ll get used to our ways.”
It didn’t seem to be the right thing to say because Rue’s eyes filled with tears again, and he looked helplessly toward Amos and Noah. He wasn’t quite so comforting for the little girl as he’d hoped, and he didn’t know how to cross that divide.
“Thomas, pick her up,” Mammi said, waving a hand at him. “She’s just a tired little thing, and she needs to be held.”
Thomas looked hesitantly around, and when Tanya nodded her approval of the idea, he gently picked Rue up and rose to his feet. She was light and small in his arms, and when he gathered her close, she leaned her little head against his shoulder and exhaled a shaky sigh. It was then that he felt it—that wave of protective love.
“All right, then,” he murmured. “All right, then.”
“Are you all set up for Rue to stay?” Tanya asked.
“Yes, she’ll sleep in a little bed in Mammi’s bedroom,” Amos said, speaking up. “Mammi—” He hesitated. “That is, Grandma to us. So the child won’t be alone.”
“I’ll take care of her with the washing and dressing and such,” Mammi said. “She’ll be well cared for.”
“And we have another young woman coming to help,” Amos added. “She’ll arrive in a few minutes to meet Rue.”
“It sounds like you’re prepared, then,” Tanya said. “I’ll go get Rue’s suitcase from the trunk.”
The older woman disappeared out the door, the screen clattering back with a bang.
“So, the new schoolteacher said she’d help?” Thomas asked, shooting Uncle Amos a questioning look.
“She did,” Amos replied. “I’m sorry, I meant to tell you. She’s a nice young woman, too. You should take note—with a child, it’s high time you get a wife.”
As if Thomas could even think about courting right now. He looked down into Rue’s pale little face. The delicate skin under her eyes looked almost bruised from lack of sleep, and he reached up and brushed her hair away from her forehead. He was still taking her in, looking her over, trying to see himself in that little face. He could see her mother there—the hair, the eyes. Was he there, too? He must be, but it was hard to tell.
There was a tap on the door and Amos went to push open the screen. Thomas looked up, expecting to see the social services woman again, but this time a young Amish woman stepped inside. She wore a purple dress, and her apron was gleaming white. Her hair was golden—the part he could see before it disappeared under her kapp—and she smiled hesitantly, looking around the kitchen.
“This is Patience Flaud,” Amos said. “She’ll be teaching school here starting in September, and she’s staying with the Kauffmans.”
Hannah and Samuel Kauffman lived on the next acreage over, and Hannah and Mammi were good friends—they had coffee together at least twice a week and they’d been known to help each other out with canning and washing days.
Patience, however, was distinctly younger than old Hannah Kauffman...and prettier. Thomas swallowed.
“You asked me to help out?” Patience said.
“Yah,” Thomas said, stepping forward with his daughter in his arms. “We haven’t met yet. I’m Thomas Wiebe, and this is my daughter, Rue.”
Patience smiled at the girl, cocking her head to one side. “Ruth, is it?” she asked in German.
“No, Rue. She’s Englisher.” As if her clothing wasn’t glaring enough. Thomas felt heat flood his face. “It’s...a long story. She doesn’t know German. But she’s mine, and I’ll need a woman’s help.”
“Besides me, of course,” Mammi said. “I’m not as young as I used to be, and I’m not sure I could chase down kinner if the need arose. Safety, you know.”
“Rue, then,” Patience said, switching to English, and her gaze flickered up to Thomas, sharpening slightly. She’d have questions, no doubt. Everyone would, and his reputation as a good, Amish man looking for a wife was officially tarnished. He’d now be the
