“Yes,” Patience said with confidence she didn’t exactly feel. “I think so, at least.”
Thomas relaxed a little. “Amos said you’d agreed to help us.”
“It’s no problem,” she said. “For a week or two, at least.”
Thomas nodded. “I’m grateful. This was a pretty big shock for me, so I’m not ready for...any of it.”
“Understandable,” she said.
“Would you be willing to do some sewing?” he asked, lowering his voice. “Because Mammi doesn’t see as well as she used to—”
“I can sort out some girls’ dresses,” she replied with a small smile. “They’re quick enough to sew.”
“Rue doesn’t know our ways, at all,” Thomas said. “Rue’s life, up until now, has been entirely English. I’m not even sure that her mamm told her who I was. Tina—Rue’s mamm—didn’t want me in her life, and I didn’t have a whole lot of choice. I was coming home to rededicate my life to our faith, and Tina hated me.”
So he had known of his daughter...
“Why did she hate you?” Patience asked, then she felt the heat hit her cheeks. This wasn’t even remotely her business.
“Because I wanted to go home, and I didn’t want the life she did.” Thomas looked away, pressing his lips together. He’d probably already told her more than he wanted to.
She had so many questions, but none of them were appropriate to pose. She’d been asked to come help, not to put her nose into another family’s affairs.
“How can I help?” Patience asked quietly.
“I need my daughter to learn to be plain,” he said. “And the sooner the better. I’ll show her what I can, but she needs a woman to show her how an Amish woman acts. Mammi is getting old, and she can’t chase down a four-year-old if she decides to bolt. I need Rue to know how to be one of us.”
“That’s a lot to ask,” Patience said softly.
“I know. You’re not here for this. You’re here to teach school—” he began.
“No, I mean, it’s a lot to ask of her,” Patience said with a shake of her head. “She’s very young, and only just lost her mother. We’re all strangers to her, and she doesn’t even speak our language. Teaching her to be Amish might be too much to ask of her. Right away, at least.”
“What are you suggesting, then?” Thomas asked.
“That we just teach her that she’s loved,” Patience said. “The rest will come with time.”
Thomas met her gaze, and his shoulders relaxed.
“Is that enough, do you think?” he asked.
“For now, yes.” For as much as her opinion counted in this.
“And you would know kinner, wouldn’t you?” he said. “How long have you been teaching?”
Patience dropped her gaze, suddenly uncomfortable. “This will be my first position. I might not be much of an expert.”
“Oh...” Thomas eyed her a little closer.
“I love kinner, though, and I really needed a fresh start.”
“Why?”
It was a loaded question, because everyone knew that a girl didn’t grow up longing to teach school. She grew up planning for her own husband and houseful of children. A girl didn’t plan her life around a job—she planned her days around a home. And at twenty-three, Patience was very nearly an old maid. But she’d asked a few probing questions of her own, so she supposed she owed him an answer.
“There was a proposal,” she admitted. “That I could not accept, and... It was better to come away, I thought.”
“Oh...” He nodded. “I’m sorry.”
Mammi approached with another plate, and Patience stepped back to allow the older woman to press the plate into Thomas’s hands.
“Eat now,” Mammi said, patting his arm gently. “It is what it is, Thomas. You still need to eat.”
It was the same thing that Patience’s mother had said when Patience had turned down Ruben Miller’s proposal. Ruben’s proposal had seemed quite ideal—he was widowed with five children of his own, all under the age of thirteen. And if Patience could be his wife, she could help him raise his kinner—a ready-made family. But when Ruben proposed, he’d spoken rather eloquently about the future babies they’d have together.
“Does it matter so much?” Patience had asked. “If you have five children already, do more babies mean so very much to you?”
“Babies are blessings!” he’d said. “Patience, what is a marriage without kinner to bind you? You’ll see—you’ll want to have kinner of your own. And the kinner will want babies to play with, too. You’re young. We could have another seven or eight before we’re done.”
Ruben had said it all with such a smile on his face that any other girl would have been swept off her feet in anticipation of all those babies, the children to raise, the family to grow. Patience’s secret had been on the tip of her tongue, ready to reveal why the babies were a worry for her...
And she didn’t tell him. She should have told him, perhaps. But she didn’t.
“Eat,” Mammi said, turning her attention to Patience, and the old woman tapped her plate meaningfully.
Patience peeled a piece of cinnamon bun and popped it into her mouth. Mammi was right, as was Patience’s own mother. No matter what came a person’s way, they were obligated to eat and keep up their strength. Because there was still work to be done—always more work.
“It will be better, Thomas,” Mammi said, lowering her voice, even though she was speaking in German and Rue wouldn’t understand. “When you marry and have more children, she’ll be one of many. More children will nail her down properly. You’ll see.”
More children—yes, that was very likely the solution for Thomas Wiebe. If he got a good Amish wife and had more children, then Rue would grow up in a proper Amish household. She’d be an older sister. Responsibilities helped a child to feel like they belonged.
Hadn’t that been Ruben’s solution to any marital difficulties? And he wasn’t alone. Amish people wanted children. Their lives and their faith revolved around the home. Even the rules of the
