Her New Amish Family. Carrie Lighte

he wasn’t used to hearing his grandmother referred to by that title. The Amish didn’t use Mr. or Mrs. to address each other; they simply used first names.

      “Dear, you can call me Martha,” his grandmother said to Trina before giving Seth the eye. No matter that she could hardly see or that he was twenty-eight-years-old, when Martha gave Seth a certain look, he knew he had better watch his step. She told him, “Trina found a mouse in that cupboard over there. I’d like you to take a look.”

      Seth obediently crossed the room. In his peripheral vision he saw Trina inch even farther away from the cupboard than she already was. Did she think the mouse was going to fly out and nip her nose? He tugged the door open.

      “It’s empty, but there’s a crack in the wood. Since you saw the mouse in daytime, it was probably really hungry and searching for something to eat,” he said. Anticipating Martha’s request and eager to get out of the house, he added, “I’ve got a spare trap. I’ll go get it. Groossmammi, will you watch the buwe in the yard until I get back?”

      “I’ll keep an eye on them, for what good that will do,” Martha joked. “You know what my vision is like. When we’re inside or they’re close by, it’s not difficult watching the buwe, but when they’re running around outdoors...”

      “I’ll go watch them if you’ll stay here and listen for the teakettle,” Trina offered, following Seth to the door. “Just give me a call when it whistles.”

      Seth hesitated to leave his sons in Trina’s charge, but since he’d only be gone for a few minutes, he said in Englisch to the boys, “Timothy, Tanner, this is, er, this is Miss Smith. She’s going to stay with you while I go get something from our house.”

      “Miss Smith?” she repeated, pointedly imitating the tone Seth had taken when she referred to Martha as Mrs. Helmuth. “My name is Trina. It starts with the letter T, just like Timothy and Tanner.”

      The boys raced to her side. “Do you want to see something?” they asked in Englisch.

      Seth hurried home, grabbed the trap, a jar of peanut butter and a spoon, and then raced back to Trina’s house. As he crossed the yard, he spotted the boys and Trina taking turns jumping over a partially frozen mud puddle. Recently the deacon’s sons had returned from a family trip to a popular Amish vacation destination in Pinecraft, Florida, and they’d filled Timothy’s and Tanner’s heads with visions of alligators. Ever since then, the boys pretended puddles were swamps where the toothy creatures hid. They’d created a game in which they had to leap over these so-called swamps without falling in and being bitten. So far, they’d been successful, and it looked as if Trina was holding her own, too. Satisfied they’d all be fine, Seth went inside.

      “The tea will be ready soon. Have a cup with us,” Martha coaxed him as he smeared peanut butter on the trap. “Trina is a lovely maedel. She’s a preschool teacher, you know.”

      “Jah, I know,” Seth replied. “You’ve told me almost every day since the attorney told you, Groossmammi.”

      “You ought to consider hiring her to watch the buwe, then. She’d be perfect.”

      Seth glanced out the window. He had to admit, he would have expected someone as thin as Trina to be lethargic but she was matching Timothy and Tanner’s energy levels.

      “Neh, I don’t think that would be right. She’s Englisch.”

      Martha snickered. “What difference does that make? She seems to know plenty of Deitsch words and the buwe are almost fluent in Englisch. Besides, they’ll formally learn Englisch as soon as they enter school. This will help them along.”

      “It’s not that,” Seth hedged. Even if he wasn’t already wary of Englisch women because of Freeman’s wife, he would have been reluctant to hire one to watch the boys. Seth owned a leather shop in town and he’d seen how Englisch customers behaved. In his opinion, the parents were too permissive with their children, allowing them to do and say whatever they wanted.

      “Then what is it? Being Englisch isn’t contagious, you know!”

      Martha was so shrewd about his bias that Seth had to try a different approach. “You told me the attorney said she only has to stay here for two months. After that, she’ll move on.”

      “Which is exactly why you should hire her.” Martha was really digging her heels in about this. “It’s only a little over two months until school lets out and then there will be three or four meed vying for the opportunity to earn money taking care of the buwe.”

      “That’s right. It’s only a couple more months. We can manage until then,” Seth insisted. He supposed if worse came to worst and Martha really couldn’t handle the boys at home, he could take them to work with him.

      “The sooner you get someone to watch the kinner, the sooner you’ll have an opportunity to visit the matchmaker and begin courting. You won’t have to stay home every night in order to give me a break from minding the buwe.”

      Clearly Martha was appealing to Seth’s expressed desire to remarry. It had been four years since Eleanor died in childbirth and he was ready to consider courting again.

      “I’ve waited this long. A couple more months isn’t going to make a big difference,” Seth replied, but his resolve was wavering.

      Martha pointed to the window. “Listen to how much fun they’re having out there.”

      Seth glanced out at them. Just then Trina attempted to hurdle the puddle, but Timothy stepped into her path. Trying to avoid him, she veered and lost her footing upon landing. She fell backward, splintering the puddle’s thin layer of ice and landing on Tanner, who hadn’t given her enough time to clear it before he jumped over it, too. Seth charged out of the house and down the steps. By then the boys had untangled their legs and arms from Trina’s and they were pulling on her hands. Instead of helping her up they were stretching her forward and she struggled to rise.

      “Stop that!” he yelled as he noticed Trina’s leg was bent awkwardly beneath her. The boys immediately released Trina’s hands and she dropped backward into the puddle again.

      * * *

      Thudding onto her backside in the mud a second time, Trina got the wind knocked out of her. Before she had a chance to catch her breath or unfold her leg, Seth slid one arm under her knees, wrapped the other around her waist and swooped her up. As he carried her to the porch, Trina’s cheek brushed against his woolen overcoat and she closed her eyes. Never had she felt so cared for by a man and she was overwhelmed by his chivalrous gesture.

      “Are you alright?” he asked after gingerly placing her on the porch steps. He leaned forward and looked into her eyes. His own eyes were gunmetal gray, a few shades paler than his sons’ baby blues but just as big and round. They’d also inherited Seth’s curly blond locks, although his hair was more waves than curls. Wholesome was the clichéd word people used to describe anyone who lived in the countryside, but in Seth’s case, Trina found the adjective to be accurate. Not merely because of his looks, but because of the honest quality of his concern.

      “I’m fine, just a little wet,” she replied, embarrassed. She could feel her skirt clinging to her skin.

      “I’m sorry,” Timothy said mournfully. “I shouldn’t have stepped in front of you.”

      “And I shouldn’t have stepped in back of you,” Tanner chimed in.

      The boys looked so pitifully sad Trina forgot about her own discomposure. “It’s nobody’s fault but my own. I’m such a klutz,” she said, rolling her eyes. When the boys didn’t smile, she assured them, “I didn’t break any bones. My skirt got a little dirty, but I’ll wash it and it will be as good as new.”

      Seth looked dubious. “It will get clean, but I doubt it will be as gut as new. Abe’s house doesn’t have