A Widow's Hope (11 page)

“I remember hearing about that once,” Seth said, impressed with the widow’s knowledge.

The corners of her mouth drooped. “And then there’s the matter
that…I angered your
bruder
…again.” With the second admission, she turned her focus to the ground.

“So you had a run-in with Simon. Were you planning on staying out here all night? Come sit, Hannah, and have some supper. I brought it to you because you hadn’t come in.” He pulled out a checkered dishtowel and handed it to her.

“
Danki,
Seth, but I couldn’t eat out here. It’s too cold and wet for a picnic.”

“Either you eat some of this dinner, or I’m taking you back to the house right now, without the opportunity to tell me what my
bruder
said that got you so riled.”

Hannah gave him a steady glare, one that made him remember the times he couldn’t string two words together in her presence. Then she gingerly stepped down to the stones of the riverbed and began washing her hands in the icy creek water. “Very well, Seth. I’ll eat your dinner. You drive a hard bargain.”

She sounded amused, but Seth saw lines of worry crease her forehead. Once she finished washing, he reached down and pulled her up the bank.

Hannah dried her hands on the checkered towel and settled herself on the log. “I do think I might be able to eat a bite or two.”

He handed her the container with a chicken leg, breast, and wing, along with a scoop of potatoes and buttered green beans. Hannah spread the towel across her skirt, bowed her head to pray, and began to eat. And eat. And when she was done, she had eaten most of the picnic dinner.

“Milk, Hannah?” Seth asked, suppressing a grin. He knew better than to comment on a woman’s hearty appetite.

“
Jah, danki.
” Hannah took the cup of milk and drank two long swallows before dabbing her mouth with the towel. She leaned back against the tree with a satisfied sigh. “I was hungrier than I thought,” she said, a dimple forming in her left cheek.

He had never noticed that dimple before. “You walked quite a
distance trying to find all your lambs. And it’s chilly today—much easier to work up an appetite.”

“That must be it. I don’t usually eat that much.” Her smile triggered a dimple in her right cheek as well.

Seth had to look away and concentrate on the water rushing over the jagged rocks to gather his composure. He didn’t like the effect Hannah had on his emotions. “Tell me what happened between you and Simon,” he said in a quiet voice.

The smile and dimples faded away. Hannah screwed the top back on the Thermos and appeared to consider her words carefully. “After I saw you menfolk, I spotted the
kinner
by the pasture gate, so I went to get them for dinner. They had found a dead lamb, and Phoebe… was all upset. She was crying up a storm.” She glanced up from beneath her lashes, but Seth kept silent.

“Emma tried to console her but had no luck. So I tried to calm her down by…by telling her about lambs in heaven and how she would see all the animals that died someday.” Two big tears slipped from her eyes and ran down her face. She swiped at them with the dishtowel.

“Go on,” Seth prodded, sorry he had brought up the topic. He didn’t want the widow to become distressed all over again.

“Your
bruder
overheard my story and became angry. He accused me of trying to change the Word of God to suit my purposes. I surely wasn’t trying to change the Good Book.” She turned to face him with watery eyes the color of dark moss.

At that moment Seth yearned to wrap his arms around her and calm her as he’d done with Constance many times in the past. He could cradle her head against his chest and stroke the tension from her shoulder blades. Then he could dry her tears with his bandana and promise her problems wouldn’t look so grim tomorrow. But he didn’t dare; this woman wasn’t Constance.

Seth took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair, growing more confused by the minute. He shouldn’t interfere with his
brother’s business. Simon was a deacon in the district and had every right to correct a church member breaking a rule or straying from their way of living. But if he knew his brother, Simon hadn’t used the kindest voice to straighten out the matter.

So instead Seth tried to think of something helpful to say. “Once Simon cools down, he’ll realize that wasn’t your intention. You were only comforting my Phoebe, and I thank you for trying.”

Hannah looked up with red-rimmed eyes. “Do you really think that?”

“I do,” he said, setting his hat back on his head. “But I’d better get you back to the house before Simon starts looking for you. Then you’ll hop right from the frying pan into the fire.”

Hannah rose from the log and picked up the basket. “You’re right about that.
Danki
for supper and for hearing me out.” She brushed the leaves from her skirt and tightened the ribbons of her
kapp.
“Besides my sister, you’re my only friend in the district,” she said as she started walking toward the house.

Seth stood rooted to the spot for several moments, mulling over her words. That he was her only friend both pleased and frightened him. He did enjoy her company and even found her somewhat attractive. She wasn’t afraid to work hard, even if it meant getting dirty. Her gentle heart loved all God’s creatures—but that’s what had landed her in this stew. He didn’t want her to get the wrong impression. He certainly wasn’t in the market to start courting again.

His interest lay in her flock. He wanted to learn the ins and outs of sheep farming to see if he should expand in that direction. Now that she might have sick animals on her hands, he could help her treat them and learn the business at the same time.

It just would be a whole lot easier if his new friend didn’t have the sweetest smile in the entire county.

H
annah loved this time of day, the time before the sun burned the dew from the grass. The pine trees along the fence and up in the hills glistened like gemstones as she counted her lambs in the early morning light. All appeared healthy as they nursed from their mothers. She was right in thinking it must have been pneumonia that killed the lamb. The runny eyes and crusted nose had told her as much. Just the same, she continued to search for invasive plants that she might have overlooked during her inspection of the pasture yesterday. Sheep were not the smartest of God’s creatures and snacked on just about anything in their path.

After filling the trough with the grain mixture, she forked hay into the large round bin. Soon the animals came running to eat, one following another in long rows. Simon had left the hay wagon near the gate to make her morning routine easier. His sons had offered to help with feeding, but she preferred doing her own chores. Time outdoors with her sheep was time well spent, even though few Amish women shared this opinion. It gave her time to think, to sort things out—something not always possible living with noisy
kinner.

Seth Miller was the subject of her musings. It had touched her deeply when he had brought dinner to her and demanded that she eat. How did he know her stomach was growling loud enough to
scare off crows? Few men would worry about a woman who wasn’t their wife. Was Seth simply showing kindness to a newcomer, or could he possibly have thoughts of a different nature? She had to admit he was good-looking with his broad shoulders; thick, dark hair; and large, gentle hands. Yet it wasn’t his handsomeness that appealed to her. His affection for Phoebe warmed Hannah down to her high-topped shoes. All Amish fathers loved their children, but not all men showed their love so plainly. Phoebe was a lucky little girl, as Constance had been a fortunate woman to have Seth for a husband. As Hannah watched the ewes contentedly chewing their hay, she wondered what she would say if Seth asked to court her. She hadn’t thought about courting back in Pennsylvania, but since coming to Ohio the possibility of remarriage had crossed her mind more than once.

It would be nice to have someone care for her again.

It would be wonderful to become Phoebe’s new mother.

And the possibility of
kinner
of her own someday? Hannah nearly dropped the water bucket on her foot. A baby of her own to hold and love and fuss over…the idea made her breath come in quick gulps. Turning her face skyward, she uttered a silent prayer that if this was God’s will, let it be done. And quickly, before she grew too old.

After finishing her chores, Hannah hurried to Julia’s warm kitchen. If there was a person who might know where she stood with Seth Miller, it was Julia. Nothing scuttled beyond the scope of her hawk eye. And she might have some insight on how to win his heart. Every woman alive, both Amish and English, knew that the pathway to a man’s heart was through his stomach.

Hannah fervently hoped that wasn’t the case. Seth had reminisced fondly about his late wife’s cooking and baking. Hannah’s own domestic skills, though adequate to keep meat on Adam’s bones, would never win any ribbons at an English fair.

“Julia?” she called in the empty kitchen. “Where are you?”

The countertops shone, and the room smelled especially fragrant.
Julia usually set a pan of water atop the woodstove into which she dropped herbs, apple bark, or flower petals. Their scent wafted through the house whenever a fire burned. A vase of daffodils, probably picked by Leah, adorned the center of the table.
Little girls are a special gift from heaven.
The thought she might have one of her own someday made her want to sing.

“In here,” Julia called from the front room.

Hannah found her sister seated at the worktable under the window. Patterns, fabric, and sewing notions were spread across the entire surface. “With the bright sunlight, it’s a good day to start new dresses for Leah and Emma,” Julia explained. “And Phoebe also needs some white prayer
kapps.
She’s getting too old to run around without a head covering.”

“I’d love to help you, sister,” Hannah said. “How are your hands today?” At least Hannah’s sewing skills were better than her culinary ones. She especially loved to weave at her loom. Remembering that her loom still sat unassembled in bundles and boxes gave her a pang of homesickness.

Julia rubbed the back of her hands one at a time. “Not so bad today. Another reason to get some sewing done. Let’s pin the pattern to the cloth I bought last week.”

Hannah held up the material. Although plain, it was a lovely shade of a robin egg blue. Emma would not be able to wear such light colors much longer—soon she would become baptized and join the church. “Tell me, sister, how much longer till your brother-in-law starts looking for a wife?” Hannah asked, not one to beat around the bush.

Julia’s eyes grew round as saucers. “Who do you mean?”

“Why, Seth, of course. Most Amish men look for another wife after a couple years of mourning, especially if they’ve got children needing a mother.”

The look of shock on Julia’s face faded, replaced by a sly smile. “I wouldn’t know his personal plans. Why do you ask?” She spread the cloth across the table and smoothed out the pattern on top.

“I was just curious. It was sweet of him,” Hannah said quietly, “to bring me dinner and fetch me home when I was afraid to face Simon.” Hannah concentrated on securing the pattern to the fabric. “He seems a nice man. I’m surprised other women in the community haven’t set their sights on him.”

Julia laughed. “I believe he receives pans of baked goods and jars of preserves on a regular basis. And more than one woman, single or widowed, waits to ask his advice after Sunday services about one thing or another.”

“Do you think he has his eye on someone special?” Hannah didn’t look up from pinning the pattern.

“Hannah Brown, have you set
your
sights on Seth?” Julia asked, dropping the pins she’d been holding.

“No, absolutely not. I only wished to inquire on the situation
if
I were to have an inkling in his direction.” Hannah’s fingers flew around the edge of the pattern, pinning it down as though short on time.

“
If
you developed an inkling, I believe you would find the field wide open.” Julia’s smile spread from one side of her face to the other.

“Hmmm,” Hannah mused, “I doubt your husband would approve of the match.”

Julia’s silence spoke volumes as she ran the sharpening block against the edge of her shears.

“He might try to dissuade Seth or say things that wouldn’t put me in a favorable light.”

Julia laid her hand on Hannah’s forearm. “Simon would never bear false witness against you or any other person. And he’s not a man to prattle on with gossip or opinions.”

Hannah felt her cheeks grow hot. “I’m sorry, Julia. You’re right. I’m being foolish and wasting time on matters of no importance. I have plenty of things to concern myself with other than who Seth Miller decides to court, when he gets around to courting at all.” She
stuck a pin through the fabric and straight into her thumb. “Ouch,” she said, and quickly pulled back her hand before any blood could stain the dress.

Julia was studying her closely. “Shall I get you a bandage?”