Gena Showalter

The Hotter You Burn


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a half smile. Her anger had disappeared quicker than ice melted on a summer day.

      “You don’t need to worry about me running away from a little work, but please tell me you aren’t hiding more children in the hayloft.”

      “Ne, no more surprises.”

      “We’ll start fresh then, now that I know what to expect.”

      As she went back to the house, Levi watched her through the open door. Ruth Mummert was enough of a surprise all by herself.

      “Martha, get in here and help me this minute!”

      Waneta’s strident voice reached Ruthy, even in the back bedroom of the Dawdi Haus, and she sat up on the bed. The room was rosy and dim with the glow of the setting sun. She must have fallen asleep.

      She hadn’t realized how tired she’d been after the long train ride, but her short nap had been anything but restful. Even this far away from Bird-in-Hand, Elam dominated her thoughts and intruded on her sleep. She pushed him away as Waneta’s voice carried through the house again.

      “Martha!”

      The poor girl sounded at her wits’ end. Ruthy bent down to slip her feet into her shoes. Levi Zook had told her to take it easy this afternoon, but it was nearly suppertime and certainly Waneta could use some help.

      Ruthy repinned her kapp and went into the kitchen of the main house. Chaos reigned. The two little girls chased each other around the big table with flatware in their hands, their laughter high and shrill. Sam scraped a chair across the wooden floor to a counter where a cake waited to be frosted. Waneta struggled to pull a roasting pan from the oven, her hair falling around her face and her kapp limp and nearly falling off.

      Seizing a towel from the counter, Ruthy grabbed one end of the roaster.

      “Waneta, this ham smells wonderful-gut.” Together, they lifted the roaster onto the counter next to the stove and Waneta closed the oven door with a bang.

      “Denki, but you’re supposed to be resting. Dat said you’d be tired from your long trip.”

      “I’ve rested enough, and you look like you could use some help.”

      “Ja, for sure I can, but you shouldn’t have to help with your own welcome supper.”

      “Never mind that. Just let me help.”

      Waneta’s brown eyes startled wide and she dashed around Ruthy. “Sam! You know better than that! Look what you’ve done to the cake!”

      Ruthy turned to see Sam holding a chunk of unfrosted cake in his hand. Her smile froze on her face. If this was the way Levi Zook raised his children, he needed her more than he thought. It was time for her to start earning her money.

      A vision of her elementary school teacher, Mrs. Studer, flashed into her mind. The Englisch woman had ruled a classroom full of forty-five children from first through eighth grades with a calm voice and a no-nonsense approach to rules. Ruthy had loved her. What would Mrs. Studer do with this mess if she were here?

      Stepping to the table, Ruthy caught each of the eight-year-old twins by the arm as they ran past her. “What are the two of you supposed to be doing?”

      Their flushed faces looked into hers, and then they both glanced at Waneta.

      “We’re setting the table,” one of them said, grinning at Ruthy. When Ruthy kept her face stern, the grin vanished.

      “Then you should be setting the table, shouldn’t you? Games like this should be saved for outdoors.”

      The girl who had spoken nodded her head. Ruthy turned to her twin sister, ready to scold both of them, but the tears in the girl’s eyes stopped her words. She was so much more sensitive than her sister. How different could twins be?

      “You will need to help me with your names for a while. I know one of you is Nellie, right?” The silent twin nodded her head and she turned back to the more daring girl. “So you’re Nancy.”

      “You’re right.” The girl grinned again, her blue eyes sparkling.

      “Nancy, you go ahead and finish putting the flatware on the table and Nellie can get the plates.”

      Nellie went to a cupboard near the sink and opened it, revealing a generous stack of white plates. Such a tender child in this boisterous family seemed out of place. Ruthy turned her attention back to Sam, who was sitting on the chair next to the decimated cake, calmly eating the piece he had stolen. Waneta glanced at Ruthy as she opened a jar of pickled beets and gave her a quick smile. At least one person approved of the way she was handling things so far.

      Ruthy knelt next to the little boy.

      “Are you enjoying that cake?”

      Sam nodded and grinned at her. His blue eyes were full of mischief, but his sweet smile made her long to give him a hug.

      She couldn’t give in to that! This boy was a little thief who needed to be taught a lesson.

      “It would taste better with frosting on it, wouldn’t it?”

      “Ja,” Sam said between bites. “’Neta makes the best frosting.”

      “It’s too bad you won’t get any, then.”

      Sam stopped, the cake halfway to his mouth for another bite. “Why won’t I get any?”

      Ruthy rose and took a spoonful of frosting from the nearby bowl. “You’re eating your cake now instead of after supper. So when the rest of us have our pieces with frosting, you won’t be able to have any.” She started frosting the untouched layer of cake and exchanged a glance with Waneta. The girl gave her a grateful smile.

      “If I give it back, will you put frosting on it?” Sam held out his remaining chunk of cake.

      “Will you promise to leave desserts alone until after the meals from now on?”

      Sam stared at the cake, considering. Then he nodded. “I’ll try.”

      “All right then.” Ruthy got a plate from the cupboard and Sam deposited his cake on it. “I’ll frost this piece just for you.” Sam slid down from the chair and headed into the front room.

      “Denki,” Waneta whispered. “Dat always complains about pieces missing from the cakes, but I don’t know how to stop him.”

      “I have a brother who tried the same thing when he was Sam’s age. Mam made him give up his desserts for a month when he didn’t stop.”

      Waneta giggled. “You’ll have to threaten Sam with that. Nothing I say will make him behave.”

      Ruthy set the broken cake layer on top of the first one and spread it with another dollop of frosting. Dessert wouldn’t be pretty, but from the way Sam liked his sister’s cake, she could tell it would still taste good.

      “Do you always make the meals by yourself?”

      Waneta drained a pot full of cooked potatoes. “Usually. Martha is supposed to help me, but she always disappears just when I need her.”

      Ruthy tried to remember who Martha was, then placed her. The girl with her nose in a book in the Dawdi Haus earlier. Levi Zook needed more than a housekeeper—that man needed someone to take his younger girls in hand. He had been right when he said this task was too big for Waneta.

      While Waneta piled slices of ham on a platter and filled the table with green beans, carrots, bread and pickles, Ruthy mashed the potatoes. Waneta sent Nancy to the back porch to ring the dinner bell, and soon the kitchen was full of children finding their places on the long benches that sat along the sides of the big table. Levi Zook came into the kitchen last, combing his fingers through his beard. Once he took his seat at the head of the table, Ruthy took the only place left, on the end opposite Levi Zook.