Danger In Amish Country. Marta Perry
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as cowed by Silas as his own kinner were.
“Well, we must hope we’ll realize more than expected,” she said, not eager to get into another disagreement with the man.
A grunt was his only answer. He gestured to the Englischer who stood nearby. “Mr. Foster has come to me with a proposition.”
Sara nodded, answering Mr. Foster’s smile with one of her own and thinking she detected a bit of sympathy in his eyes.
“Mitch, please. We don’t need to be formal, and I know Teacher Sara.” Foster was lean and graying, with a tanned face and a ready smile. The owner of the local hardware and sporting-goods store, he was well-known for sponsoring all the local sports teams. Not that the Amish participated in those, but a person could hardly not know about it. People in a small community talked, that was certain sure.
“See, it’s this way, Teacher Sara. I heard about the trouble you folks had with finding that body and all.”
Silas’s look turned more disapproving, if possible. “It’s not proper, an Amish teacher going about finding bodies.”
She could hardly expect him to approve, but Sara wasn’t sure what she could have done about it. A little edge of apprehension pricked her. Silas might well seize any excuse to replace her with someone younger and more malleable.
“I’m sorry that what happened brought attention to the school,” she said.
“Nonsense,” Foster said bracingly. “You couldn’t help what happened. You could hardly leave the poor fellow lying there. Anyway, it made me think about your school.”
She nodded, not sure where this was going.
“So the long and short of it is that I noticed the playground equipment is getting a bit dilapidated. I figured I’d like to donate the materials you need for an overhaul. Maybe add a few new pieces, as well.”
Sara managed to restrain herself from jumping up and down in excitement. “That’s very generous of you, Mr. Foster.” She slid a look at Silas, expecting a negative reaction, and realized he was actually nodding.
“Generous,” Silas echoed. “Though I’m not sure the kinner need all these newfangled things to play with when they should be attending to their studies.”
Silas’s philosophy was always that what had been good enough for him was good enough for everyone.
“Scholars seem to do better with their studies when they’re able to run about and play in the middle of the day,” she said. Please, she prayed silently.
“Sure thing,” Foster said. “Everyone knows that’s true. They’ve got to run off some of their energy. So what do you say?”
Silas gave a short nod, as if to do more would be unbecoming. “Well, if you insist, we accept. We can set up a work frolic to get the repairs done. I think Teacher Sara already has a list of what’s needed, ain’t so?”
Sara nodded, unable to keep a smile from her face. “Ya, I do.” A list she’d presented to the school board at least twice with no action. “I’ll get it for you.”
“Fine, fine.” Foster took a quick look around. “I do need to get going, but I can wait a few minutes. Or you can have your daed drop it off at the store.”
“I’ll get it right away.” She spun and headed for the schoolhouse, excitement bubbling, hardly able to believe Silas had agreed to this. Maybe the thought of getting something free had outweighed his reluctance. She’d best get the list to Mr. Foster before Silas changed his mind.
She stepped inside, closing the door behind her, mind intent on the list. She took one step toward her desk and stopped, her heart giving an uncomfortable thump.
Someone stood at her desk. Not just someone—a man, Englisch, young. He wore jeans and a tight black T-shirt, and he was as out of place in an Amish schoolroom as a zebra in a henhouse.
“What are you doing here?” Nervousness lent an edge to her voice.
“Just wanted to see what the school looked like. Nothing wrong with that, is there?” His bold eyes swept over her, studying her body in a way that made her want to hold something up to shield herself from his gaze.
Sara pushed down a momentary panic. There were people, plenty of them, just a shout away. Nothing could happen to her in her own schoolroom with half the residents of Beaver Creek nearby.
“The school is closed to visitors today.” She made her voice firm. “I’ll have to ask you to step outside.”
He sauntered toward her, his gaze never shifting. “Well, now, that’s not very friendly, is it?”
“The school is closed,” she repeated. She took a step back and bumped into a desk. Was it time to call out now, before he got any closer? She edged her way around the desk, feeling behind her for the door.
He smiled, as if he knew she was afraid and enjoyed it. “I know lots of ways to get friendly with a pretty girl like you.” He moved to within arm’s reach, and only the conviction that it would be a mistake to turn her back on him kept her from running.
“Get out of my schoolroom.” She would not panic. If she made a scene... Her mind shuddered away from the thought. It would be another black mark against her in Silas’s book—that was certain sure.
“Your schoolroom? So I guess that makes you the teacher, huh? Bet I could teach you some things.”
He reached toward her, and panic slipped her control. She drew in a breath to scream.
FOUR
Caleb’s first censorious thought at finding Teacher Sara alone in the school with an Englischer vanished when he saw the fear in her face. “What is going on?” He reached them in a few long strides, impelled by an alarming surge of protectiveness.
“Sara.” He moved between them, forcing the other man to take a step back. He focused on Sara’s strained face. “Was ist letz?”
Sara took a breath, some of the color coming back into her face. “I found this man in the schoolroom. He doesn’t want to leave.”
And he had frightened her. Caleb could read between the lines. Had he threatened her?
He fixed his glare on the man—hardly more than a teenager, but hardly an innocent. The way he’d been looking at Sara gave Caleb an urge to douse his head in the nearest water pail.
“Go. Now.” He didn’t waste words.
The stranger took another step back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. A flicker of bravado showed in his expression.
“I heard tell the Amish don’t hit back. So how you gonna make me?”
“That’s true enough.” And he’d never had such a longing to break that taboo. “But there are plenty of Englisch outside who’d be glad to help us out.”
He didn’t bother to repeat his command. He stared until the man’s gaze fell.
“Just having a little fun.” His voice had taken on a whine. “That’s all.” He swaggered out the door, the effect ruined by the speed at which he disappeared.
Caleb turned to Sara, overcome with the need to comfort her. “Are you all right? You’re safe now. He’s gone.”
She shook her head, turning toward him in an instinctive gesture, so that it seemed the most natural thing in the world to put his arm around her.
“It’s all right,” he said softly, just as he would soothe Rachel. “Nothing can hurt you now.”
Sara gave a watery chuckle. “Ach, I must be ferhoodled to let the likes of that one upset me so.” She drew back, as if aware of his arm around her.
He squeezed her arm in reassurance and let his hand fall,