Courting Ruth. Emma Miller

there was no smoke or the scent of smoke. School was out for the afternoon, but a few of the boys had remained for a game of softball on the grassy field. Samuel Mast’s buggy was there, as well as Roman’s big team and wagon, the horses standing nose to nose at the hitching rail.

      When Ruth entered the schoolroom by the temporary steps, she found Roman, Samuel and her mother deep in conversation about the building repairs. Mam was smiling, and it sounded as though she was getting her wish for more room. The hand-drawn plans spread out on the desk enlarged the main area by the size of the original cloakroom and included a new porch with an inside sink and water faucet.

      “Isn’t this wonderful?” Mam exclaimed. “We’ll be able to add eight more desks and a new cloakroom.”

      “Will it be done in time for the new school year?” Ruth asked, looking over the drawing.

      Roman nodded. “With Eli to help, we’ll finish by September.”

      “So Eli’s good with his hands,” Samuel observed.

      “Ya, he’s a fine craftsman, that boy.”

      “You can go on home,” Mam urged, resting her hand on Ruth’s arm. “We’ve still got things to discuss here, but there’s no need for you to wait for me. If you can take the reading books and the big arithmetic book, I can manage the rest.”

      Ruth gathered up all the texts, including the oversize cursive writing book, said goodbye, and walked out of the school. She had just started toward the woods when Eli stepped out from behind the shed.

      “Don’t pop out at people like that,” she said. Her cheeks felt as warm as if she’d been standing over a kettle of simmering jam. Just being near him scrambled her wits and made her tongue thick, and she was immediately more annoyed with herself than with him. She was a woman grown and should have more sense.