The Amish Teacher's Dilemma and Healing Their Amish Hearts by Patricia Davids (all ebook reader .txt) 📕

barely glanced at the boy, trying to think of something to say that would make Becca Graber go away and leave him alone. Instead, she smiled at Sam, so brightly that Jesse could only stare at her for several seconds. Bending at the waist, she looked the boy in the eyes.

“Hallo, Sam. How are you?” she asked.

The boy’s eyes widened, his face creased with worry. He shuffled his feet, looking anxious. A few gurgling sounds came from the back of his throat but he couldn’t seem to get any words out. Finally, he jabbed a finger urgently at the house and Becca gasped.

“Gucke! Something is burning,” she cried.

Jesse turned and saw billows of black smoke rushing from the open doorway of the kitchen. Oh, no! The pork chops. They must be burning. He’d completely forgotten all about them.

“Stay here,” he commanded as he raced into the house.

A thick fog of black smoke emanated from the metal frying pan sitting on top of the gas stove and filled the kitchen. As a certified firefighter, Jesse knew what to do. He reached into the cupboard beneath the sink and pulled out a Class B kitchen fire extinguisher. Aiming the nozzle, he blasted the burning pan with a fog of fire retardant. Then, he picked up the metal lid and, angling it to protect his face, slid it over the top of the pan to snuff out the grease fire. Lastly, he switched off the burner and slid the pan away from the source of heat.

A light tapping came from the open doorway and Becca poked her head in. “Is it safe to come in now?”

She stood there holding Sam’s hand, waiting for Jesse’s permission to enter. He nodded, wishing she’d go away. This had been a simple grease fire but it had brought the past right back for him. The night Alice and their two daughters had been killed, he was off fighting a house fire somewhere else. If only he’d been home that night, he might have saved them. It was his fault they were gone. It had been his job to protect them. His job to keep them safe.

And he’d failed.

His body trembled as he stood looking at the charred remnants of the four pork chops. He’d put the meat on the lowest heat, thinking they’d be fine until he returned from the barn. Now, he had nothing to feed Sam for supper.

He glanced at Becca and saw her gazing at his hands. Reddish-purple scars covered his skin, extending up both of his forearms. A cruel reminder that he’d run into a burning house to try and save his wife and daughters.

He folded his arms, hiding the ugly scars. Without speaking, Becca quietly opened all the windows and doors, allowing the chilly breeze to clear the house of smoke. As if from a distance, Jesse watched her silently. No matter how hard he clenched them, he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking.

Becca directed little Sam to put on his coat until the room could be warmed up again. With rapt attention, the boy followed her every move as she built up the fire in the potbellied stove.

She glanced at Jesse and hesitated. From her sympathetic expression, he was certain she could see the truth inside him. That he was upset. Shaken by the grease fire. He felt suddenly exposed. The moment was too personal. Too private. Because it hit too close to home. A reminder of what had happened a year earlier when he’d lost everyone in his familye, except Sam. And he didn’t want Becca Graber to see that. Or to know what he tried so hard to hide.

“You should leave,” he said, feeling grouchy.

“You’ll need something else for supper.” She spoke in that soft, efficient voice of hers.

Without permission, she stepped over to the cupboards and opened the doors, peering inside. He knew she would find them as empty as his broken heart. She opened the fridge before lifting her eyebrows in a dubious expression.

“Is this all the food you have in the house?” she asked, gesturing to the skimpy remnants of a ham and a small chunk of Swiss cheese.

“That and the milk.” Jesse retrieved the two buckets and set them on the counter by the sink. Having a chore to do helped soothe his jangled nerves.

Alice had always made their butter and cheese. Jesse knew the process but didn’t have time to sit and churn milk into curd. And the few times he had done so, it didn’t taste right when he finished. Something was missing.

Alice, Mary and Susanna were gone.

Pulling the ham and cheese from the fridge, Becca set them on the counter. She paused for just a moment, looking at the sink filled with dirty dishes. Without recriminations, she picked up a horse harness he had been mending and carried it to set beside the back door. Then, she rolled up her sleeves and quickly washed two plates and glasses.

“I noticed you have a coop but it doesn’t look like you have any chickens on your place, so you don’t have any eggs.” She spoke as she worked. “Maybe in the spring you can get some baby chicks. But this will do for tonight.”

Yes, he planned to buy some chickens next week. He also wanted to buy pigs, draft horses and another milk cow once the weather warmed up. But for now, he’d have to make do. A trip to the grocery store in town was definitely on the agenda for the morning. He’d stock up so this didn’t happen again.

Becca shivered and Jesse placed another stick of wood in the potbellied stove. His home wasn’t much to look at. The walls were dingy and scarred, the rooms devoid of furniture. Upstairs in the bedrooms, he’d laid two mattresses on the bare wood floors for him and Sam to sleep. No chairs. No chests of drawers. No armoires, curtains, rugs or wall hangings. The house had been uninhabited for six years. He’d been told