Courting Ruth by Emma Miller Read Free Book Online Page A

clung to some men, but there was none of that about Eli. His hair and body were fresh, his old high-tops were polished to a shine, and the nails on his big hands were clean and cut straight across.
    “I have to go back inside.”
    “ Ya, I suppose you do,” he agreed. “But it’s nice sitting here, don’t you think?”
    “ Ne . I don’t.” It was actually. Her mouth was dry, her heart raced, and her knees felt oddly weak, but the barn did smell good and the rain patting on the tin roof sounded comforting.
    And then he took hold of her hand again.
    She wanted to pull her hand free. He’d gone too far. She wasn’t the type to be so easy with a boy. Especially one she didn’t know. A boy with a reputation. She had her good name to think of, her family’s. “Let me go, Eli.”
    He released her immediately. “You haven’t asked me about the burns on my hands, the injuries I got by coming to your rescue and saving you from a fiery death.” He held out his hands. They were lean hands, a working man’s hands.
    “See that? And that?” He indicated two tiny blisters and a faint redness. “I may need to see an English doctor—go to the hospital.”
    Ruth could hardly hold back a giggle. “That? That’s the smallest blister I’ve ever seen, Eli. You boys in Belleville must be sissies, to make such a fuss about a little burn like that.”
    “Say it again.” He stared intently at her, making her warm all over again. “What?”
    “Eli. Say my name again. I like the way you say it.”
    Ruth clutched the quilt bag to her chest. “I have to go. I—”
    “Ruth?” Irwin pulled open the heavy Dutch door of the barn. “Teacher wants to know what’s taking so long.”
    “Coming.” Quickly, she scrambled down, ignoring the offer of assistance from Eli’s outstretched hand.
    He chuckled and put a finger to his lips. “I won’t say a word,” he promised. “What happened here in the barn will be our secret.”
    “We have no secrets,” she said and marched stiffly away, trying to salvage some shred of dignity.
    If Irwin knew that she hadn’t been alone in the buggy, he made no mention of it. She went back to the house. As she neared the sitting-room entrance, she heard Aunt Martha’s raised voice.
    “She’s not getting any younger, Hannah. What was wrong with Bennie Mast, I ask you? Eats a little too hearty, maybe, but a good boy, from a good family. I’m telling you, she’s too choosy, your Ruth.”
    “She’s that,” Aunt Alma joined in. “And I heard she turned down Alf King, wouldn’t even ride home from the singing with him. If she’s not careful, she’ll miss out on the best catches. She’ll end up marrying some Ohio widower twice her age.”
    Ruth stopped short. Bad enough she’d made a fool of herself in the barn, but now her aunt was holding her up as an old maid, someone who couldn’t get a husband. She couldn’t believe they were talking about this again. Why wouldn’t they understand that she couldn’t accept Bennie or Alf or the other boys who’d wanted to drive her home from a young people’s singing? Why couldn’t she make them see that her duty was to remain at home to take care of Susanna and her mother? That not every woman could or even should have a husband and children of her own? Mam needed her. Her little sister needed her. Her responsibility was to her family.
    “Here’s your bag, Mam,” she said too loudly as she entered the room. “So many buggies in the yard, it took a while to find ours.” That wasn’t dishonest, was it? Or had her foolishness with Eli Lapp caused her to make up lies as well?
    “Look at these colors,” Mam said as she took the bag from Ruth. “Barely faded in all these years. And such beautiful needlework. I vow, Johanna, you must have inherited your great-great-grandmother’s gift with stitchery.”
    Ruth settled gratefully into her empty seat and picked up her square of cloth. She would make up for her wasted time in the barn, and she