A Son's Vow (10 page)

April 2

H
annah hoped her parents never discovered that she was starting to feel more at home on Plum Street than she did on her own street. As she lounged next to Christopher on the blue-and-yellow-checkered quilt in the Rosses' backyard, lazily looking through one of Mrs. Ross's
Better Homes and Gardens
magazines, Hannah tried to tell herself that this was just a passing phase.

But it didn't feel that way.

Maybe it was because she now called Mr. and Mrs. Ross by their Christian names, saying hello to York and Melissa each morning when she walked through their front door. Now, she got herself a cup of coffee while Melissa darted around the kitchen, doing just one more thing before rushing out the door. York and she now teased each other about everything from his determination to never carry an umbrella to how seriously he took his Tuesday night softball league game.

Maybe it was because she was spending more time with Christopher and his life than she was in her own Amish world.

Whatever the reason, she no longer stared at Christopher's favorite DVD in confusion, wondering why he was so fascinated with the cartoon figures or their outlandish songs. She could now work their microwave as easily as their washer and dryer.

And she no longer felt shy or awkward whenever Rob stopped by in the middle of the afternoon.

He never stayed very long, but after double-checking with Christopher's parents to make sure they didn't mind, Hannah had discovered that she looked forward to his company.

No doubt it was because of his happy personality. Rob was completely ignorant about her loss and, therefore, didn't treat her as if she might break. Instead, he told her about his job, which seemed to mainly consist of staring at a blank computer screen and writing copious research notes.

He was also something of a cook, which had taken her by surprise. At least once a week he brought her a bowl of soup he'd just made or a slice of pizza or, once, a plate of cookies.

“Hey, Hannah?”

Startled, she glanced to the side, where the split-rail fence divided the Rosses' yard with their neighbor's. When she saw it was Rob, she smiled. “Hello.”

“Hey,” he said again. “I saw you were out here and that Chris was sleeping. Want some company for a half hour?”

He always did that. He always asked permission to join her. He never pushed too hard or stayed too long. The first time he came over, he stayed for only ten minutes. Then it was fifteen. Now it seemed that they'd reached the thirty-minute mark.

In spite of knowing that she shouldn't be growing so attached
to an English man, Hannah found herself looking forward to his visits. Now she didn't even pretend that she wasn't happy to see him.

“I've been looking at the same magazine page for the last hour. I'd love the company,” she said with a smile.

Grinning, Rob opened up the gate and slipped through the rather narrow opening.

As he walked closer, Hannah noticed that he was wearing baggy army-green shorts, a white T-shirt, and flip-flops in honor of the warm day. Though shorts were new, his casualness was not. She'd never seen him in anything as fancy as Mr. Ross's work clothes, and she was starting to wonder if he'd look the same or different in more formal attire.

“I see you've got on your summer sandals again,” she teased.

“Yep.” He looked down at his feet. “Even though I've been wearing flip-flops for the last three weeks, my feet are still pasty white. I'm working on my tan.”

She grinned. “Maybe you should bring your computer outside so your toes can get some sun.”

“I would if I thought I'd get anything done.” Shrugging, he said, “Looks like I'm not the only person on Plum Street trying to get tan toes. You've got your tennis shoes off today.”

Before she realized what she was doing, she scrunched her toes on the warm quilt. “I couldn't help myself.”

“That's good. You need to enjoy today, Hannah. Why, tomorrow, it could be sleeting or something.”

Rob always said things like that. He seemed to enjoy living in the moment as much as she was starting to. “I thought the same thing. After Christopher ate his snack, we came out here to look at books. Before long, he fell asleep.” Belatedly, she realized that
not only had she been sunning her feet, but she'd hiked the skirt of her dress up to her knees. Feeling her cheeks heat, she pulled the hem of her skirt down.

“Don't do that on my account. Believe it or not, I've seen girls' calves before.” His voice was lighthearted and kind. Gently teasing.

Because she felt so comfortable, she spoke without thinking. “I bet you've seen more than that.”

To her amusement, he looked embarrassed. “Maybe.”

“Sorry. I spoke out of turn.”

“No reason to apologize,” he said as he stretched out by her side. “My life is an open book.”

“Uh-oh. You better look out. Before you know it, I'll be discovering all sorts of things about your secret past.”

He chuckled. “It's not so secret. You know I moved here from Chicago.”

“
Jah
, but that doesn't tell me much. After all, Chicago is a big city.”

“It is,” he said agreeably. “Feel free to ask me anything you like.”

“All right. Well, I know that you are from Chicago and that you have no family here.”

He raised a brow. “What else do you need to know?”

“I am wondering why you decided to settle in Charm. Can you tell me about that?”

For once, his dark eyes were shadowed. “I, uh, had a girlfriend. We were serious. She was killed in an accident.”

Well, now she felt worse than bad. She should have kept her questions to herself. “I'm so sorry,” she said quietly.

“Me, too,” he said, matching her tone. “Anyway, after a time,
I realized that I needed a change of scenery. When my older sister, who enjoys staying in country bed-and-breakfasts, told me about Holmes County and how peaceful it was out here, I decided to come out here for a weekend.”

Hannah tried to imagine what a city man like Rob had thought of Charm the first time he'd seen it. “And did you find it peaceful?”

“I did. The first night I was here, I slept through the whole night. I hadn't done that in months.” He leaned back on his hands and crossed his ankles. “Next thing I knew, I was putting an offer on a house.” Turning to face her, he said, “So that, Hannah, is how I ended up on Plum Street.”

She felt both stunned and embarrassed. Here she had been, thankful that she didn't have to face any prying questions, and she'd just done that very thing to him. “I am sorry. I didn't mean to pry.”

“You didn't pry. We're getting to know each other. That's what friends do.”

They were friends. She was spending more time with him lately than she had with many of her Amish girlfriends. Maybe it was time to share a little bit of herself, too. “I also lost someone close to me. A boyfriend.”

Though it was obvious he was trying to appear relaxed, she noticed his body tense. “By lost, do you mean broke up?”

“
Nee
. I mean, no. I mean, he died.” Taking a fortifying breath, she forced herself to be completely honest. “Paul died in that lumber mill fire about four months ago. Did you hear of it?”

He shook his head. “I'm sorry. I haven't been talking to too many people. Basically, I work on my computer all day, walk
Rose, and talk about the weather with the neighbors—if I talk to them at all.” Staring at her intently, he said, “So, what happened? I mean, if you want to talk about it, I'd like to hear.”

She didn't want to talk about it but she didn't want to be rude. Hannah also supposed she needed to talk about the fire more if she was ever going to put all the pain from the incident behind her.

Reminding herself that Paul was in Heaven and no amount of talking was going to make her miss him any more or less, she began slowly. “In mid-December, a fire broke out in one of the back warehouses at Kinsinger Lumber Mill. A rag saturated with wood stain caught on fire inside a Dumpster. I guess there was some metal inside that had been heated, as well as a large amount of scrap wood, which acted as kindling. The Dumpster exploded and set the warehouse on fire. Five men died.”

“That's incredible.” Rob looked stunned. “I didn't know such things could happen.”

“They usually don't, but lumber mills can be dangerous places, I guess.” She swallowed, both hating and feeling proud that she was able to speak so knowledgeably about the accident that had claimed Paul's life. This, she thought, was a sign of how much she'd healed.

“Did they catch who started it?”

“He died. But it was an accident.” She swallowed. “As best anyone can figure, a whole lot of factors came together, which didn't usually happen. No one knows why.”

“I'm really sorry, Hannah. You're so young. That had to be hard on you.”

Did her age really matter? Thinking about the Kinsinger family, about Darla and her little sister Maisie . . . Hannah knew none of their ages made death easier to handle or harder to bear.

Unable to look at Rob, she struggled to keep her voice calm and steady. For some reason she needed to be able to discuss Paul's death without breaking down. “The police and firemen said the men didn't suffer too much.”

“I heard the same thing about Julia.” He lifted his head. “Does that make you feel better?”

“Not especially. I, um, canna seem to ignore the ‘too much' part.”

“Me, neither.” He stared ahead at nothing, his mouth set in a firm line. “Do you . . . Have you ever wished to get away and change cities, too?”

“
Nee
. Charm is my home. But, well, I have recently realized that I've changed my life, too. I took this job just a month after Paul passed away. Now, instead of being at home, I spend most of my time here in the Rosses' house. Melissa and York are nice. And, well, I think I needed to be around little Christopher here. He keeps me busy and doesn't ask questions.”

He chuckled. “I bet he doesn't. Though now that he's rolling over, he seems determined to wear everyone around him out.”

“Especially me.”

“Maybe not especially you,” he said quietly. “I'm beginning to think that maybe you are invincible.”

His praise made her feel good but it was unwarranted. “Never that. I'm simply coping. Lately I have realized that I've put a lot of distance between me and my old circle of friends. I needed to start over fresh. I don't know if that is good or not.”

After eyeing her closely, he shrugged. “Hannah, maybe it doesn't matter if what you are doing is good or bad.”

“You don't think?” That sounded too easy.

“This is just me, but maybe all that matters is that being here helps you heal and cope.”

She shrugged. “Maybe so.” As she looked at Rob sitting next to her, his face a little scruffy from the beard he never completely shaved, the frayed hem of his shorts, his pale feet, Hannah realized that she had, indeed, learned to cope. “God is good,” she said.

His brows went up, making her realize that there probably weren't too many people in his life who talked about God like she did.

But then he relaxed. “You know, a couple of weeks ago, I might have disagreed with you, but now I feel the same way. God is good.”

She smiled at him before looking back at Christopher. As he continued to breathe softly, his little chest pumping up and down, and his mouth open into a tiny O, Hannah realized that if Paul had lived, she probably wouldn't have ever made the decision to get this job. Now she was getting paid to spend her days with a sweet baby and even a few minutes visiting with Rob. She was doing things she'd never imagined but managing to find joy in them. She couldn't deny that she'd been able to find a little bit of happiness.

“Hey, Hannah?”

“Jah?”

“Even though I've already been sitting here for thirty minutes, would you mind if I just sit here with you for a few minutes longer? We don't even have to talk.”

“I don't mind.” She leaned back on her elbows and closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her face and the faint scent of Christopher's baby lotion in the air.

And the quiet presence of Rob sitting next to her. He'd become her friend.

And now that she knew that he, too, had loved and lost so much, she thought that he might just be the best friend she'd ever had.

S
HE WAS STILL
thinking about Rob and their easygoing conversation when she walked home from work that afternoon. After stopping in the market to buy a bouquet of fresh flowers they had on sale for her mother, Hannah practically ran into Aaron Kurtz.

He held out his hands to steady her. “Whoa,” he said with a light smile. “Are you all right?”

“Jah.”
Looking a little sheepish, she said, “I fear I was thinking more about these daisies than where I was going.”

“What's the occasion?”

“For the flowers? Oh, there is no occasion. I simply thought my mother might enjoy them. She loves daisies.”

Something in Aaron's face altered, the relaxed expression he wore hardening. “It's a blessing you have a mother still. We lost ours when Daed perished in the fire.”

Hannah didn't want to be unkind, but she was beginning to think that every single conversation with him centered on the fire and his father's passing. “I worked all day. It's past time that I headed home.”

“
Jah
. You had better do that. Your parents will no doubt be worried about ya.”

Slipping past him, she clutched the flowers against her chest and started back down the sidewalk. For a good fifty yards, she walked briskly, anxious to put some distance between herself and Aaron's hurt and pain. Unfortunately, the distance didn't make her brief interaction with him any easier to bear. One five-minute conversation with him had removed her happy mood and the optimism she'd been feeling.