The Amish Teacher's Dilemma and Healing Their Amish Hearts Patricia Davids (best self help books to read TXT) 📖

He agreed. If she had been his cousin, he would not have let her walk nine miles on such a cold winter’s day. And though he would never admit such a thing, it kind of upset him that Jakob Fisher had been so derelict in her care. Since he’d lived here for a number of years already, the man should have known better.

“I’m sorry. I’m talking too much, aren’t I?” she said suddenly.

Yes, but he didn’t say so. He would never admit that he liked her incessant chatter. It had been so long since he’d listened to a woman talk about everything and nothing and it filled up the lonely void of the ride. With Sam not speaking, Jesse’s life had become overly quiet and he realized he was hungry to talk to someone. Anyone! Even if that someone happened to be Sam’s pushy schoolteacher.

Before he knew it, they had arrived at the turnoff to the Fishers’ farm. Jesse wasn’t about to make Becca walk the muddy road leading to the house and he turned the horse down the lane. The two-story log structure looked just the same as his, except that it was in pristine repair. So was the large, red barn. The tidy property was outlined by long barbed wire fences and fallow fields waiting for spring plowing. Black-and-white milk cows stood in a corral, chewing their cud. Several draft horses stood together near a cluster of barren trees. In the summertime, he had no doubt the place would be burgeoning with green life.

One day soon, Jesse hoped his own farm looked in this good a shape but he knew it would take time and lots of hard work for it to prosper. But he intended to do just that. Bishop Yoder had offered to coordinate a work frolic to help with some of the repairs but Jesse had politely refused. He’d come here for isolation and didn’t want a lot of people around his place asking a lot of questions about Alice and their girls. For now, he wanted to be left alone.

“Danke for the ride. I’ll see you tomorrow at church.” Becca hopped out after he pulled the horse to a stop in front of the house.

She reached up as Jesse handed her the bags. Their fingers brushed together for just a moment and he felt the warmth of her soft skin against his. Sam waved, but Jesse didn’t speak. He didn’t want to see Becca Graber again. And yet, he did. Not because he was interested in her as a woman. But rather, she was so different from Alice. So filled with ideas, so talkative and bright, like a shiny new button. Becca Graber was a novelty to him. A glimpse of normalcy that he hadn’t enjoyed in a long, lonely time. And no matter how hard he tried not to, he liked her.

Chapter Three

Jesse awoke slowly, pulled out of a deep sleep. Opening his eyes, he blinked into the darkness. It was way too early to get up for morning chores. Over the past year, he hadn’t been sleeping well. Tonight was no exception. He’d gone to bed late after working on another chair to go with the kitchen table. After tossing and turning for what seemed like hours, he’d fallen into a dreamless sleep. So, what had awakened him?

He rolled over, pulling the warm quilt with him. He gazed through the shadows at the empty pillow next to him. How he missed Alice and her warm, gentle touch. Just knowing she was there, lying beside him, had brought him joy. But now, the house felt cold and empty. He must have forgotten to stoke the fire in the stove before he went to bed. But honestly, he’d become skittish about adding kindling at night for fear it might start another house fire. Although he’d lost his previous home because Sam was playing with matches, he’d become overly cautious when it came to fire.

There! The sound came again. A low cry from the outer hallway followed by muffled crying. Sam must be having another nightmare.

Throwing back the covers, Jesse sat up and placed his bare feet against the chilly floor. Alice wasn’t here to make one of her large rag rugs to cover the bare, scarred wood. He’d resisted buying one, trying to conserve his funds until the priority expenses had been met, such as repairing the leaky roof and buying more livestock. His future livelihood depended on him making this farm prosper and he intended to do just that.

Standing, he reached for his discarded shirt and pulled it over top of his undershirt. Raking a hand through his disheveled hair, he walked out onto the landing at the top of the stairs. He paused beside the door to Sam’s bedroom and listened. Another scream and then pitiful weeping came from the room and he raced inside. Sam lay upon the mattress, his arms and legs tangled in the bedding. His eyes were closed in sleep but he thrashed around, as if he were trying to escape some unknown predator.

Definitely another nightmare. The boy had been having such bad dreams ever since the fire, though their occurrence had diminished once they’d arrived in Riverton. Over time, Jesse had hoped the bad dreams would disappear entirely.

He pulled the covers away and rearranged them before lying on the mattress with his son. Blanketing them both against the frigid night air, he pulled Sam into his arms, aware that the boy had awakened and was silently weeping. His slim body trembled, his shoulders quaking. Holding the child against his chest, Jesse rubbed his back the way Alice used to do whenever one of their children was sick or upset about something.

“Shh, Daed is here now. You’re safe. It’s going to be all right,” Jesse soothed, copying her words.

Alice had always known what to do, what to say. Her kind, quiet nature had brought him comfort whenever