"Likewise. And I'm sorry you're stuck teaching the other two this summer, but don't worry, I'll help you deal with them whenever necessary."

Charlotte laughed. "Thanks for the offer of help. I'm sure we'll all get along just fine."

Introductions were shared all around; then Kendra said, "Charlotte, why don't you take the kids on out to the schoolroom? We'll come check in after a little bit."

"All right." The kids and their new teacher walked out the door, trailing the sounds of laughter and chatting behind them.

"Is she old enough to be a teacher? She looks more like a high school student to me." Susan watched them long after they'd left the room.

"Well, you know"-Kendra folded her arms-"Amish schools only go through eighth grade, and their teachers are unmarried young women, often teenagers."

"Yes, but we agreed-"

"I'm kidding, Susan." Kendra put her hand on Susan's arm. "She graduated undergrad from Stanford, magna c.u.m laude, to be exact. And she just earned her master's degree in education from Vanderbilt."

"Okay." Susan still looked doubtfully out the door. "Where is the schoolroom?"

"It's a small building way on the backside of the property. After you two get the lunch dishes all cleaned up, I'll walk you out there. Come find me when you're ready." She pushed open the back door and then turned. "I'll likely be down near the barn with Gary and the new wagon. If I'm not there, Gary will know where to find me." The screen door slammed shut behind her.

"I guess producers don't have to worry about whether or not the Amish thing would be to help clean up, now, do they?" Julie piled the plates together and carried them toward the large farmhouse sink. "I have to admit, I'm missing my dishwasher."

"And front-loading clothes washer." Susan sighed.

"And the cleaning ladies that come in every other week. Yes, especially them."

They both laughed then as Susan started the water running into the sink. "Didn't you think that teacher seemed a bit more like a party girl than a teacher? I think we're going to need to keep a close eye on their educational experience this summer."

Susan always kept a close eye on Angie's educational experience. Still, Julie wished she would ease up, just for the summer. "She seemed sweet to me."

"All the more reason to keep a close eye on her."

Oh boy.

Chapter 15.

Two large brown horses stood in the paddock, their eyelids drooping in the morning sun. Several goats on the other side of the barn brayed at each other and ate at whatever was in their little trough. There were no people to be seen or heard anywhere in the vicinity. Susan stuck her head in the barn door. "Kendra? Gary?"

"n.o.body here but us chickens." The reply came from behind her. She spun around and saw Gary mending a fence on the other side of the hen coop. He smiled and started toward them. "Some way I can a.s.sist you ladies?" His blue eyes glinted bright in the sun, perfectly contrasted with his gray hair.

"We were supposed to meet up with Kendra and go out to the schoolroom after we cleaned up the lunch dishes. Have you seen her?"

"They had some sort of mechanical issue and she got called away. I'm not sure when they'll be back."

"Oh." Susan thought about the young girl currently in charge of her daughter's education and decided she didn't want to wait for Kendra's return. "Do you happen to know where the schoolroom is?"

He nodded. "Sure do." He looked toward Susan with sort of a dare on his face. "But I don't think it'd be right to tell you-"

"She's my daughter, and I want to know where she is." Who did this handyman think he was? "Tell us where they are, right now."

"You didn't let me finish." Gary grinned a slow, easy smile, apparently unfazed by Susan's obvious irritation. "I said it wouldn't be right to tell you where they are, when I could show you. I've got a horse that needs some exercise, and the new wagon needs some breaking in. Now, if you ladies are up for a little adventure, come on down this way."

"Oh." Susan felt her face flush warm. "Sorry, I . . ."

"No need to apologize. Truth is, I've been itching for an excuse to hook one of these things up ever since they arrived."

They headed behind the barn where a gleaming black Amish-style buggy waited.

"This is smaller than I thought it would be. How will the whole family fit in this thing?" Susan walked around the vehicle, checking every detail.

"We got two. There's one back in the storage barn that is family-sized, with a couple of rows of seats. This one is for smaller crowds." He made short work of hitching up the horse. "Okay, ladies, in you go." He held up a hand to help Susan into the carriage. She took it and climbed in. Julie followed.

Gary came around and got in the other side. "Okay, we're about to see what this baby has under the hood." He clucked at the large brown horse, who launched into a leisurely walk. "Hmm. Not a lot, apparently."

Both Julie and Susan laughed. They started moving in the direction of Brian's observatory, then turned right at the top of the hill. From there, it became apparent that several dirt roads crisscrossed the property. Trees dotted the landscape, until they grew dense near the creek just over to the left. "This is such an amazing place," Susan said, in spite of herself.

"Yes, it is." Gary spoke the words in an almost reverent tone.

"It's interesting, though, that the farmhouse is built in the valley between two hills. In California, we would put the house right on top of the tallest hill for a better view."

He nodded. "True enough. This place was originally built over a hundred years ago. Likely the owners were thinking more about protection from the elements than a nice view."

"I suppose so."

"And it works well for our purposes. No one can see the buildings from the road, so it's nice and private."

They continued along for a moment, hearing only the muted clomps of the horses' hooves against the dirt road and the singing of the birds off in the distance. Gary held out the reins to Susan. "It's time for you to start your first driving lesson."

Susan kept her hands firmly planted at her side. "I don't think-"

"You'll be just fine. Now take the reins, and I'll tell you everything you need to know."

Susan finally lifted her hands in the general direction of the reins, still perfectly certain that she was not up to this. She grasped the reins, and Gary kept his own hands over hers for just a few seconds. "Pull here to turn right." He made a light pull on the rein and the horse started to veer off the road. "And here, to go left." He steered the horse back on course.

He released his grip but remained close beside her. Susan could feel his shoulder brushing against hers. In spite of the fact that she tried to concentrate on keeping the horse moving the right direction, she was all too aware of his closeness. It was ridiculous. They were in a tight s.p.a.ce, that's all. It was ridiculous that she would even notice such a thing.

As the buggy reached a hilltop and started down, the small schoolhouse came into sight. It looked exactly like Julie had always pictured a one-room schoolhouse. White, rather plain, almost like an old church without the steeple. It was surrounded entirely by towering trees, as though they'd grown there solely to protect the school one day.

"How cute. Gary, do you know if this place was already on this property? I can't imagine that it was, but it looks so authentic."

"You are correct on both counts. It wasn't here, but the producers wanted a schoolhouse that looked legitimate. They found this one abandoned in town not far from here, moved it, restored it just enough that it doesn't fall in, but not so much that it looks brand-new. The schoolhouse doesn't have electricity; that's why they set it in the middle of those trees. Hopefully the shade will help keep it cool."

"I wonder how many trees they had to take out to make it fit," Julie said.

"None." Gary's answer was quick, but then he shrugged. "At least that's the way I understand it. There was a perfect spot right here, but obviously the opening isn't wide enough to bring that thing in. So . . . it was dismantled, brought in here piece by piece, then rea.s.sembled. Tell you the truth, I think they did a nice job."

"Me too." Julie leaned forward to get a better look at the place. "It's so picturesque."

"I'm just hoping there's some good teaching going on inside there." Susan's face was turned toward the building, but Julie knew she wasn't even seeing the outside. Her focus lay on the tasks that needed to be occurring inside.

"I'm more than confident that there is." Gary answered in a friendly-enough way, but Julie thought she heard something like irritation in his voice.

"We finally got the buggy, huh?" Brian seemed to appear from nowhere, his arms loaded with pine cones, nuts, twigs, and other kinds of fauna. "Can we go for a ride?" He matched his step to walk beside them.

"Where's your tutor? Why aren't you in cla.s.s right now?" Susan turned to scan the immediate area, as if to find out the answer for herself.

"And what do you have in your hands?" Gary's voice was more jovial.

Brian looked down, as if just now remembering his load. "Oh, this. Well, Aunt Susan, this is why I'm not inside. Char sent me outside to gather items to be used in my summer project."

"Char?" Susan asked, her voice in full disdain mode by now.

"Our tutor, remember? Her name is Charlotte, but she told us everyone calls her Char."

"What about Ms. Buchanan? That seems more appropriate to me."

"Lighten up, Aunt Susan. This is summer, after all."

Gary leaned a bit closer to where Brian walked. "What is the project?"

"A model of our solar system in the middle, and representative astronomical structures from elsewhere in the Milky Way. We'll spend the summer studying all the things represented. Of course, I'll include Sagittarius A-star"-he looked at Gary-"that's the super-ma.s.sive black hole right in the middle of our galaxy."

"Right, of course." Gary nodded, playing along.

Brian nodded. "And the Comet Elenin will be another no-brainer when it comes to inclusion."

"I would think so." Gary grinned at Susan, then turned to Julie and said, "You've got one smart young man on your hands there."

"Yes, I do."

"Let's go see what the other smart ones are up to, shall we?" He pulled the horse to a stop.

The three of them climbed out of the buggy. Gary went around to tend to the horse while Julie and Susan started for the building, Susan leading the way.

The door stood open, to allow in air, Julie supposed. As they stepped inside she noticed that it was warm, but not unbearable.

Charlotte Buchanan was standing at Whitney's desk, looking at something in Whitney's notebook. Angie was busy writing something, her pencil flying across the paper.

"h.e.l.lo." Susan made her way toward the three desks. "We came to see what was on the agenda for today's lesson."

Charlotte looked up and smiled. "Today we're just getting our plan set and talking about what interests them most and what I feel are the most important topics for review. I've gotten everyone started on a warm-up project, but tomorrow we'll dive in full force."

"Can I drive the horse and wagon tomorrow?" Brian carefully placed the items from his arms onto his desk.

"Sorry, Brian, but that falls under the category of the true-to-life-schooling you're going to get here. Amish kids generally walk to school, just like your grandparents probably did. It's all a part of the experience," Char answered.

As the conversation and attention were drawn to Brian, a movement caught Julie's eye. She glanced toward Angie and saw her sliding a notebook she'd just been using beneath her other books. In its place, she pulled out a precalculus textbook and set it on her desk. Her entire being was focused on Susan, who, at this moment, wasn't looking toward her. What was it she'd been working on with such energy and didn't want her mother to know about? Whatever it was, Char was in on it, too, because she had moved to stand between Susan and Angie during this exchange.

Gary ambled into the cla.s.sroom. "I just got a call from the boss. She wants you ladies back at the farmhouse ASAP. Sorry to cut this school session short, but I'm sure the students and their teacher have lots to be doing anyway." He and Charlotte made eye contact, and Julie knew without a doubt there was something meant by the exchange.

"I guess we'll hear about the rest tonight at dinner," Julie said as they walked from the building.

Gary helped Susan up into the wagon, then Julie. Susan's blush still hadn't quite faded as Julie climbed up beside her. That's when Julie began to wonder how long it would be before Gary and Susan realized they were attracted to each other.

Julie watched out the kitchen window as the kids made their way from the barn and the morning's ch.o.r.es. They were talking and laughing, something that rarely happened at home in the morning time before school. Yet here it was not even 7:00 A.M., they'd been up and going for an hour, and their outlook was as pleasant as could be. Maybe there was something to be said about spending time in the great outdoors first thing in the morning, or having the kids do extra ch.o.r.es, or be electronics-free. Whatever it was, it seemed to be working.

The screen door to the kitchen porch screeched open. The kids all spilled inside, sock-footed and still laughing. Brian held up both arms to show off nonexistent muscle. "Behold King Brian. Lord of the cow milkers."

"Yeah, right. You got lucky, that's all," said Whitney.

"Nothing lucky about it. I'm the best milker in the family; admit it, both of you."

"Nothing doing. I would have had way more yesterday except that the stupid cow kicked the bucket over."

"That's operator error, not the cow's fault." Brian ducked his sister's swat and plopped at the kitchen table. "What's for breakfast? I'm starved."

"We're taking a break from the heavy stuff today. We have nuts and raisins. Some raspberries and apples. Plus we've got some oatmeal this morning, the old-fashioned kind. And some toast from last night's leftover friendship bread, and there's mola.s.ses and b.u.t.ter on the table."

"Gary told me yesterday to put some b.u.t.ter on your plate, pour mola.s.ses over it, and then stir them together. He said it's really good on biscuits that way. Maybe it'll work on toast, too." Brian spooned out a scoop of b.u.t.ter and started drizzling mola.s.ses over it before anyone could protest.

Whitney's nose crinkled up tight. "Ick. That looks disgusting."

"You never know for sure until you try something. That's the scientific approach. Then there's your approach . . . the blond approach-"

"Okay, you two, that's enough. Whitney, I believe it is your turn to lead the blessing."

In unison, the heads bowed. Whitney said, "Thank You, G.o.d, for this food and our family. Amen."

"That had to be the shortest blessing in history." Brian scooped up some of his mola.s.ses-b.u.t.ter mixture with his knife and placed it on a piece of toast and took a bite.

"There's no need to pontificate, especially this early in the morning. Besides, didn't you ever read the parable about the hypocrite who said long prayers just so he would look good?"

"Pontificate? Whitney, you just used a four-syllable word!"

Julie reached across the table and put a hand on each of her children's arms. "If I have to tell you two to knock it off one more time, there will be consequences."

Brian scooped more mola.s.ses onto his toast. "This is really good. Amazingly good."

Whitney picked up her fork, stuck the tines into Brain's mixture, then pulled it back and licked it. "Hmm, not bad." She reached for the b.u.t.ter and pulled out her own little clump, then pa.s.sed it to Angie. "Maybe we should give it a try."

"Angie, no," Susan interrupted. "Today was supposed to be healthier. And eating a tablespoonful of b.u.t.ter with sugary syrup poured all over it is nothing of the sort." Susan looked at Brian's and Whitney's plates and turned to Julie, her annoyance more than obvious. "I thought you were going to back me up this morning," she said in a whisper still loud enough for the kids to hear. And the cameras. "How can you let them eat like that?"

Julie froze. Once again, she'd been whiplashed by Susan. Just seconds ago she'd watched her children come inside as happy as she remembered seeing them, and now she was being scolded. For b.u.t.ter and mola.s.ses. Susan stared, waiting for an apology. Demanding one. The same look Julie had seen in so many eyes back home. Demanding this, expecting that from her. The life she hated. And Julie refused to let that world break in here. This place was beyond all that, and she wasn't going to take it anymore. She looked Susan directly in the eye. "It's all part of the experience. In fact"-she extended her hand toward her daughter-"pa.s.s it this way when you're done, please."