A Widow's Hope (27 page)

That Hannah Brown—she certainly didn’t let the dust settle before stirring up the next tornado.

A
rainy day on a farm can either be a blessing or a discouragement, depending on what needs to be done. Simon needed to harvest his first crop of hay. If he could get it cut and bailed soon and the fields replanted, he might get three crops in before the first frost. But not if it didn’t stop raining—no sense cutting if it would only lie wet in soggy rows.

And the stiffness in his back indicated the rain wouldn’t stop soon. Julia was in so much pain, she was staying in bed for another day. According to the doctor, it could be weeks before the new pills had any pronounced effect. The inflammation might actually get worse before it improved because the physician had told Julia to stop the pain relievers that had brought some relief.

Julia had kissed him so tenderly that morning, despite her discomfort, and whispered such sweet endearments that he wanted to stay by her side the entire day. But that wouldn’t get his chores done, and his children needed at least one parent active in the household.

Simon swallowed a pair of aspirin and felt ready to face the day. What he wasn’t prepared for was the odd goings-on in his kitchen. Cardboard squares hung all over the downstairs rooms, each with a picture of the object it was attached to. Stove, sink, potato bin, rug, and lamp all had colorful pictures and words stating the obvious
in English and what looked like a strange approximation of their spoken German dialect.

Emma sat at the table showing Phoebe the silly cards and repeating names of items in both languages. The child appeared to be forming the words with her lips, but no sounds came from her mouth. Simon glanced around the room. The table and kitchen floor were covered with crumbs, dishes were piled high in the sink, and muddy paw prints ran from one end of the floor to the other.

Simon bit the inside of his cheek and walked to the stove.
Oatmeal again—for the third morning in a row?
Only today’s breakfast was dried to the side of the kettle. Someone had forgotten to remove the pot from the burner after everyone else had eaten. Looking out the window, he spotted his youngest daughter—barefoot and missing her
kapp
—returning from the henhouse. She stomped through every puddle of standing water along the path. Her dress was soaked to the knees while her hair hung wet and stringy down her back.

“Leah, come inside this instant,” he hollered through the window screen.

Emma and Phoebe both looked up at his outburst. “Where is your aunt, Emma?” He poured a cup of coffee and concentrated on not losing his temper.

His eldest child smiled sweetly. “She’s in her workroom in the loft,
daed.
She’s making woolen shawls to sell at the next auction. Did you know that women pay three hundred dollars for one handmade shawl? I’ll bet some of the English ladies will pay even more.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he said. “No one in their right mind would pay that much!”

“Do you think something’s wrong with Mrs. Stauffer’s mind? Because she paid that much for one at the benefit auction.” Emma gazed up with her luminous blue eyes and only a hint of a grin.

“Don’t try to put words in my mouth, young lady. You know Mrs. Stauffer paid that much only because of the fundraiser. And what is going on with all these cards?”

Emma looked proud as she patted her cousin’s back. “Aunt Hannah and I are teaching Phoebe English words so she’ll be ready for school.” She held up a card picturing a horse and repeated the name twice.

“She can’t read yet, Emma. What good are those cards?” He drank down his coffee and scowled.
Ice cold. Why hadn’t anyone kept the coffee warm?

“Aunt Hannah says she’ll get used to hearing the words associated with the picture, and it will help her match sounds with words.”

“She doesn’t talk,” he argued, trying to scrape some of the oatmeal from the side of the pot.

“Yes,
daed,
but this might encourage her to try talking again.” His daughter was staring as though he were slow to catch on. She turned back to her cousin and enunciated “
kuh”
and then “cow” and held up a picture of a Holstein.

Simon gave up on the dried oatmeal and took the last two pieces of cold toast. “Work with Phoebe only after your chores are done, Emma. Right now, see to this sink of dishes and the dirty floor. I’m going out to speak with your Aunt Hannah.”

His eldest scrambled to her feet immediately and began to fill the kettle with water. “Sure, Pa,” she said.

He slapped his straw hat on his head. In the hallway he spotted Leah, trying to blend in with the cloaks and jackets. “You get upstairs and put on dry clothes. And where are the eggs? Your basket is completely empty.” The child scampered up the steps faster than a coyote after a rabbit.

His wife lay flat on her back; his house was a pigsty; his youngest looked like a drowned mouse; and his sister-in-law was busy trying to make things to sell. Earning more than one required was a tool of the devil. And what did Hannah need to buy? He provided her food and the roof over her head. Apparently the elders’ warning to behave in keeping with the ways of their district had gone in one ear and out the other.

“Hannah, where are you?” he called on entering the barn.

Her head appeared in the doorway at the top of the loft. “Oh, I wasn’t sure when you would be down this morning. I thought of sending breakfast up to you and Julia.”

“From the barn?” he asked, scratching his nose.

She smiled patiently. “Of course not. I was just coming in to cook something fresh. The boys ate most of the oatmeal. I wanted to wait till you and Julia were ready.” She brushed wool lint from her palms as she walked down the steps.

“Forget about breakfast for me. I had toast, but you can take a tray up to Julia when she wakes up.” Something was making his nasal passages close and his breathing difficult. He sniffed and sneezed several times.

“Come outside,” she said. “I’ve been spinning wool, and that puts a lot of dust and fibers into the air.” Simon sneezed twice more as they stepped out into the drizzle. “Unwashed wool can be quite an irritant,” she said, not paying the rain any attention.

He chose not to comment regarding irritations. “Hannah, with Julia laid up, I need you to mind my house.” He kept his voice perfectly nonconfrontational.

She looked surprised and then bewildered. “Of course. I fixed breakfast for the
kinner,
asked Emma to tidy the kitchen, sent the boys off to chores, and told Leah to fetch eggs. I plan to hard-boil a dozen for egg salad for lunch.” Drops of water ran off her nose, but she didn’t seem to notice.

Simon stepped back into the barn and motioned for Hannah to follow. “Leah is soaking wet, even her hair. She’s been playing in the rain without her
kapp,
not gathering eggs. We’ll be lucky if she doesn’t end up in bed with pneumonia.”

Hannah lifted her chin and pursed her lips. “Simon, it’s already
eighty
degrees outside, but I’ll see that she changes into dry clothes immediately. And I’ve already spoken to her about keeping her
kapp
on. She doesn’t want to comply until Seth makes Phoebe wear hers.
I’ve sewn Phoebe several head coverings but haven’t seen any on her head yet.”

“Julia never had this problem with Leah,” Simon said.

“True; this has just begun.” Hannah appeared to be inhaling and exhaling deeply.

“And I saw dog prints across the kitchen floor.” This time his tone rose to match his mood. “You know I don’t permit pets of any kind inside the house, and that includes your new collie.”

Hannah sighed. “I’m sorry about that. Turnip followed Henry into the house for breakfast. Henry was testing the dog to see if he would listen to him when he called. I’ve already spoken to Henry and shooed the dog out with a rolled newspaper. Neither will do it again. And I plan to wash the floor as soon as I’m finished in here.”

At least she looked contrite. Simon shook his head. “All right, Hannah. Please see if Julia is ready to eat something now.” He stepped past her into the rain, which had increased significantly. All of his chores today involved being outdoors. He tugged his hat brim lower and hunched his shoulders against the downpour.

He would look like Leah in no time at all.

Hannah returned to the loft to clean up and calm her nerves. Why was Simon suddenly so critical? Who had any idea Leah would start acting like a duck? And Turnip, despite his misstep this morning, had turned out to be an excellent sheepdog. He kept the flock together and had actually herded them to the high ground where the grass had come in thick and green.

Everyone was entitled to one or two slipups.

Unfortunately, she’d gone over her quota by quite a few as far as Simon was concerned. But she must be patient. His concern for Julia overshadowed everything else. She was still learning to be Julia’s stand-in. A mother had to have eyes in the back of her head and anticipate what
kinner
might do, and then head them off.

Hannah might never be as efficient as her sister—juggling tasks and responsibilities with smooth, easy grace—but she was making progress with Phoebe. The child had begun to relax around her as they worked with the language cards. It was only a matter of time. Hannah wouldn’t give up until she heard the child’s voice with her own ears.

Glancing back at the plastic bags filled with woolen yarn, she exhaled a sigh of satisfaction. She’d risen before dawn to work up here before anyone else was up. One of the women who had purchased a shawl in Berlin had been so impressed with it she had tracked Hannah down from the homemade label. Turned out that the
Englischer
ran a gift shop in Sugar Creek that did brisk business selling Amish-made goods to tourists. The proprietor, Mrs. Dunn, wanted everything Hannah had to sell and would pay a very good price. She was also interested in selling raw wool. There was quite a market for organic yarn among women who knitted or crocheted. Mrs. Dunn said she could sell every skein of wool Hannah supplied. And the price she promised per pound had made Hannah’s jaw drop.

Never before had her sheep been so profitable.

Never before had the need to raise cash been so great. Julia’s anticancer drugs and steroid injections were staggeringly expensive. Simon didn’t know the true cost of her treatments because Hannah had gone with the neighbor to fill the prescriptions.

He didn’t need anything else to fret over. Hannah would pay for the medications from the sale of her farm to Thomas. Between those proceeds and the sale of her wool, Hannah could take care of her beloved sister for a long time to come. She would even sell her lambs next spring if it came to that. Julia’s health was worth everything to her.

Hannah moved the heavy bags close to the steps before hurrying to the house. She would tend to Leah, fix more breakfast, carry a tray to Julia, and then wash the kitchen floor. After picking vegetables for tonight’s dinner, she would take the buggy to Sugar Creek.
Mrs. Dunn was attending a craft fair this weekend and needed all the wool she could supply. Phoebe would have to ride along with her, but she was certain Seth wouldn’t mind. She’d be extra careful with
kinner
in the buggy.

One thought troubled her while she washed the kitchen floor. She still hadn’t told Seth about the visit from the ministerial brethren. At the fundraiser, in front of Joshua and Laura, the topic hardly seemed suitable. During the ride home with his talk about the rain’s effect on crops and her tales of Turnip with the sheep, it had simply slipped her mind.

She had decided to tell him last night when he picked up his daughter, and also report Julia’s worsening medical condition, but he’d refused to cross the threshold. Seth had grabbed the hamper and hightailed it home as though fire ants were crawling up his pant leg.

You are a hard man to pin down, Seth Miller,
she thought. But the sooner she told him about the warning—and how she planned to avoid ever being shunned—the better. It was not a good idea to keep secrets.

Hannah fried some eggs and sausage and sliced a fresh peach for Julia. With the kitchen clean, Hannah carried the tray upstairs. “Stay dry,” she said to Leah and Phoebe, who were playing quietly with their dolls.