A Widow's Hope (21 page)

But Hannah had always worked well under pressure.

The anticipation of seeing Seth tonight would help her sail through her chores. She ate the last sandwich from the plate Simon left behind and took a few moments to plan what she would say to smooth over their disagreement.

I’m sorry I implied you were a sheep rustler. It’s just that I’ve grown attached to this particular group of woolbags.

No, maybe while she cut the noodles something clever would occur to her. But nothing clever came to mind then or while she rinsed the curtains and hung them to dry.

While the turkey breast roasted, she continued to draw a blank, and rolling out biscuit dough did nothing to stimulate her imagination.

Hannah decided to leave the overheated kitchen and head to her pasture. Among her sheep under the open sky, she would find the tranquillity necessary to clear her head. Unfortunately her nephews had forgotten to bring over the hay wagon in their haste to leave early. Neither had they filled the water buckets. Once she’d done both tasks and loaded the troughs with grain, she spotted a ewe stuck in the fence. “Oh, mercy,” she moaned.

Getting an animal to go back the way it came wasn’t easy alone. But with patience and determination, she eventually freed the obstinate creature. Rising to her feet, Hannah wiped a hand across her perspiring forehead. If she hurried she should have time to take a scented bubble bath and change before finishing dinner. But as she reached the house, she spotted Seth’s buggy parked alongside the barn.
What time is it?
Was he there already to help move furniture? She couldn’t run into him yet!

In the pump house she washed her hands and face and pulled off the soiled apron. If she could sneak in the back door, she would grab clean clothes and take a quick sponge bath.

“Hannah?”

Simon’s voice stopped her in her tracks just as she reached the steps to her room. “
Jah?
” she answered, not turning around.

“Should I send Henry to fetch Julia and Emma home? It doesn’t look like you’ve made much progress on dinner.”

The hairs on her neck rose like quills on a porcupine. “Absolutely no need. I’ve got everything under control.” She turned to face him and watched his gaze scan the room—the table covered in flour and dough scraps, counters arrayed with cut vegetables and their trimmings, two trays of biscuits expanding in the humid air.

Simon noticed the cooked turkey breast sitting in congealed grease and made a face. “Julia said we were having a casserole.” Disappointment shaded his words.

“We are, but I’ve got plenty of time before dinner. Everything will be ready when we sit down.” She forced her lips to smile. “Don’t worry about anything,” she added, and tried to shoo him back to the front room.

Simon moved as though walking through waist-deep water. At the doorway, Hannah spotted Seth taking down the calendar and a framed sampler from the wall. Luckily he didn’t see her as she started a pot of water to boil and threw the noodles in before heading upstairs for her clothes. The clean dress she put on could have used a pressing, but she soon forgot about it once back in the kitchen.

Looking into the pot, she gasped and dumped the noodles into the colander. When the steam cleared, she saw with horror a blob of sticky starch. The heat from the bottled gas stove cooked things much faster than the woodstove. With a sigh she told herself that once mixed in with mushrooms, seasonings, meat, vegetables, and cream soup, no one would even notice.

Hannah cleared the table and counters, sliced the turkey, and put together the casserole. Sprinkling the top with breadcrumbs, she stepped back and uttered a satisfied “Done” as the baking dish went into the oven.

When she turned around, someone was standing at the back screen door. The jar of pickled beets she was holding almost slipped
from her grasp. Hannah recognized the young schoolteacher from the Kidron hardware store.

“Good afternoon,” the woman called. “Am I too early? I’m Laura Stoddard. The deacon invited me to dinner tonight.” She smiled prettily.

The tenth for dinner…couldn’t it have been another farmer from the district?

Hannah dried her hands on a towel before greeting the woman. “Welcome, Miss Stoddard. I am Mrs. Hannah Brown, Julia’s sister. You’re not too early—just in time. Please come in and enjoy a glass of tea while I set the table.”

If not for the fact Hannah still had plenty to do, she might have enjoyed the schoolteacher’s company. Laura seemed bright and friendly and made easy conversation.
But does she have to have such a softly rounded figure and creamy soft skin?
Hannah smoothed her skirt down over her bony hips. By comparison she could have replaced the broomstick strawman that scared crows away in the cornfield.

But it soon didn’t matter how pretty the new teacher was. Within ten minutes, Julia and the girls arrived home, full of funny stories from the Lehman brood. The boys came in with fists full of dandelions, and Simon and Seth returned from the pump house.

Neither man was smiling.

Hannah had managed to get the table set, her salad tossed, and the wildflowers arrayed in jelly jars. Her silent prayer included a plea for patience and diminished jealousy.

“Hannah, the windows are sparkling.
Danki,
” Julia said.

“Where are the curtains?” Simon demanded.

“Still on the clothesline,” Hannah said awkwardly.

“Aunt Hannah, the casserole smells wonderful.” Emma was leaning over the dish and inhaling deeply.

“What’s burning?” asked Henry.

“The biscuits!” Hannah exclaimed and raced to the stove. The
bottom shelf of the oven proved to be too close to the heat. When Hannah rescued them, the bottoms were burned to a crisp.

If not for two things, Hannah might have endured the shame of burned biscuits, bare windows, and overcooked noodles in the casserole. One, Simon took every opportunity to draw Miss Stoddard into a conversation with Seth. And two, Seth Miller paid Hannah not one dab of attention during the entire meal. Although he didn’t entertain Laura with much more than polite
jah
s and noes, he looked everywhere in that overheated, crowded kitchen than at her.

When the disastrous supper finally ended and the kitchen had been cleaned, Hannah took two aspirin and climbed the steps to her room. She would take the Good Book from her dresser and read the Gospel of John. Only then would her feelings of hopelessness and loneliness fade away like dew with the morning sun.

J
ulia rubbed the palms of her hands and insides of her fingers, wincing from the pain but also feeling a small measure of relief from the manipulation. She doubted three aspirin would be sufficient for what she had in mind. Instead she’d take a dose of the prescription sample the doctor had given her and pray it worked quickly.

Today a quilting bee was being held at the home of Mrs. Stauffer, who lived close to town. Julia planned to go and take Hannah with her. Arthritis had forced Julia to give up quilting, so she seldom attended bees anymore. Her fingers just wouldn’t bend sufficiently to grip the fabric and make the necessarily tiny stitches. But she would make herself useful by sorting squares, ironing, and helping with the refreshments.

It had been several weeks since Hannah’s less-than-sucessful dinner, and it was time Hannah got away from her four-legged friends to become better acquainted with her new neighbors. Julia knew Hannah sewed and quilted beautifully, despite her preference for outdoor activities. Her neat, small stitches would be much appreciated by the accomplished quilters. Even more important, it was time the women of their community got to know Hannah better. Human nature unfortunately casts doubts or misgivings on one who keeps
herself apart from others for too long. Hannah needed to expand her circle beyond family, flock, and occasional outings with Seth.

Besides, Julia had heard rumblings through the grapevine about Hannah. An afternoon with the camaraderie of other women would do them both much good.

Gazing out the kitchen window, Julia smiled as she watched her sister return from the pasture. She looked like a nursery rhyme character, with her Amish head covering and her crook in hand. “There you are,” Julia said brightly as Hannah came inside. “I’m glad your chores didn’t take too long. Why don’t you hurry and change into a clean dress, and we’ll be off. I’ve already asked Simon to hitch up the buggy.”

Hannah looked quizzical as she washed her hands and arms at the sink. “Off where?”

“To the quilting bee at Suzanne Stauffer’s house. I mentioned it the other day. Suzanne’s eldest daughter is to be married after the harvest, and we’ll be putting together a wedding ring quilt for her.”

Hannah frowned and shook her head with exasperation. “I plum forgot about it. Sorry,” she said, sitting down at the table.

“There’s still time. It’s not far away.” Julia pushed the plate of toast within reach and then went for the coffeepot.

“I can’t, Julia. I sent word to the vet to stop by today on his rounds. I have no idea when he’ll get here. Some of my ewes have developed eye infections. I need to treat them with antibiotics before they get worse, or the problem will spread through the flock.” She spread the last slice of bread with jam and took a bite.

Julia drew a deep breath. “Couldn’t you ask Simon to watch for the vet? I’d like the women of Winesburg to get to know you better. Besides, it’ll be fun—you’ll see.”

Hannah looked horrified as she set down her toast. “Absolutely not. Simon has plenty of his own work this time of year, and the flock is my responsibility. I won’t be a bigger burden to him than I already am, especially not for a social outing. I know there will be enough
capable hands there without my calloused pair. I’ll go next time, but right now I need to consult my herbal book for a salve remedy. Why buy something if we can make it better right here?”

Before Julia could think of a rebuttal, Hannah grabbed her toast, kissed her on the cheek, and hurried back out the door. Julia exhaled with exasperation. Just once she would like to pave an easier road for her sister. Without an alternative, she collected her sewing basket and headed for the buggy. The horse snorted with impatience until the two of them were trotting down the road toward town.

Much goodwill could be garnered from a social outing, Julia mused on the way to the quilting bee. And much harm from wagging tongues could be avoided.

Julia had been right to be worried.

All eyes turned in her direction when she walked into the front room. The other women were just sitting down at the large quilting frame. “Julia,” called Mrs. Stauffer, “I’ve saved you a place by me.” A folding table had been placed next to the frame with stacks and stacks of colorful fabric squares. “Come do your sorting here where there’s more room. We will work inside instead of under the trees. My knees say it’s going to rain later.”

“That could be why my hands are so bad today,” Julia said, shoving her basket of notions under the table. She pulled the piles of fabric toward her.

“I thought your sister would be joining us today,” a young woman called from down the frame.

Julia glanced up from her cloth squares, startled to see eight pairs of eyes fastened on her. “She was disappointed that she couldn’t. The vet is stopping by later today to treat some of her sick animals.”

“
Jah,
her sheep business. I heard about that,” the woman added. She glanced at Sarah Miller and nodded solemnly.

“It’s not really much of a business. I keep her too busy helping me in the house most days,” Julia said. She rubbed the backs of her aching hands.

“You’re lucky to have your sister close by,” Suzanne Stauffer said. “Mine moved to Ontario last year where she and her husband could get land cheaper. Letters are nice, but I still miss her terribly.” She arranged the swatches Julia handed her onto the marked cloth and began to pin them securely.

“She is a blessing to me,” Julia said, handing around small piles matched for color to the rest of the women.

“That I know,” Suzanne nodded, but the others remained oddly silent.

Julia thought maybe they were intent on their quilting until a couple of hours later when she went to the kitchen to start making sandwiches. She’d finished sorting and matching, and had even cut more squares until her hands seemed to lock in one position. The hostess joined her in the kitchen after a few minutes.

“There is talk in the district about the widow Brown,” Mrs. Stauffer said softly without preamble.

“Whatever about?” Julia stopped spreading butter on the thick slices of bread.

“The elders didn’t like her bidding in the auction barn in Kidron. They said she should’ve waited outside and let Seth do the buying. It’s not proper womenfolk behavior.”

Julia set her knife down abruptly. “Hannah didn’t buy or bid on anything as I understand. Seth wanted to see what was available and gauge the going price.”

“This isn’t my opinion, Julia. I’m only telling you what’s being said. It might have been all right if they were married, but they’re not.” Suzanne began to slice and arrange tomatoes, cucumbers, pickles, and peppers on a blue platter.