by Marta Perry
“Y-you’d just l-lost your husband. That’s n-natural.”
He covered her hand with his, his palm warm and work-hardened. She seemed to feel his intensity through his touch. And something more than that—a complexity that was normally hidden by his usual pleasant, friendly expression.
“I guess I had an excuse then. But not now.” She was almost breathless with the clarity of it. “Jamie needs a grown-up for his mother. I have to decide what’s best for him, and for me.”
“G-gut,” he said, his voice soft.
She tried to smile and had a feeling it wasn’t very successful. “I’m finding it kind of scary.”
He shook his head, his gaze so intent on her face that it was as if he were touching her. “You are a s-strong w-woman, Hannah. Y-you just d-don’t know it.”
She looked up into his face, feeling the force of his caring. She wanted to thank him, but when their gazes met, she seemed to lose all track of what she’d intended. And William just stood, hand clasping hers, staring into her eyes.
She didn’t know how long they’d have stood there if someone hadn’t come out the back door of the fire hall, clattering a couple of pans. She stepped away, sure her cheeks were as red as the engine.
“Will you come on Friday afternoon then, instead of tomorrow?” The words sounded strange in her ears, as if her voice were not her own. “My friend will be leaving Friday morning. All right?”
“Ja.” His voice was husky. “F-Friday.”
She hurried away, wishing she could find some excuse not to rejoin Megan immediately, afraid of what her face might betray.
CHAPTER NINE
You take it easy on the trip back.” Hannah lifted Megan’s suitcase into the trunk of her car. “It’s such a long way.”
Megan checked to be sure she had her keys and closed the trunk lid. “I’ll stop at my cousin’s on the way home. That’ll be a nice break.”
They were still being cautiously polite to each other, Hannah realized. Probably Megan felt, as she did, that their friendship was too important to let hasty words spoil it.
Yesterday had been fun, almost like old times. Megan had insisted on taking them all the way to the nearest mall, where she bought Jamie a toy garage. They’d had lunch out, and nothing had happened to remind either of them of their differences.
Well, that wasn’t quite true. Just the fact that they were being so cautious was in itself a reminder.
Megan wrapped her in a fierce hug. “You take good care of yourself and that sweet boy, okay?” She hesitated for a moment. “Look, I don’t want to press you. But think about what I suggested. We’d both love to have you, and once Jeff goes on his next tour, I could really use the company.”
“I don’t think . . .”
“Don’t answer now. All I want you to do is promise you’ll consider it. Please.”
“All right. I will.” But Hannah didn’t feel it likely that she would change her mind. “Give my love to Jeff, and kiss the children for me.”
Megan’s eyes glistened with tears, and then she shook her head and smiled. “No crying. I promised myself.”
“Call me when you get home, so I know you’ve arrived safely.”
Nodding, Megan got into the car. She gave a final wave, and then she drove off down the street.
Had that hint of tears been because she was leaving? Or because she realized, as Hannah did, that things would never be quite the same between them again?
They’d remain friends, she hoped. But it would be foolish to act as if they were still united by a common bond.
Megan had always been the leader, an experienced army wife when Hannah hadn’t known a thing about it. Now Hannah had moved beyond that, and no matter how much Megan thought the difference between them was caused by the life she led now, Hannah recognized the truth. Travis was gone, and with him not only the life they’d shared but also the life she’d shared with the other wives. There was no going back.
She returned to the bakery. It was nearly time to open. Aunt Paula hadn’t come down yet, probably wanting to give Hannah space to say good-bye to her friend. Even as she thought that, she heard her aunt’s footsteps.
“Megan has gotten off all right?” Aunt Paula asked the question before she’d reached the bottom stair, looking toward the window that faced the street.
“Yes, she—”
It happened too fast for Hannah to get out more than a gasp. One instant Aunt Paula was taking the last step, and the next she went sprawling, giving an involuntary cry.
“Aunt Paula!” Hannah ran to her, heart pounding, as Jamie began to cry, shaking the bars of his play yard as if he knew something was wrong.
“I’m all right. Don’t fuss . . .” Aunt Paula had pulled herself up by the time Hannah reached her, but she winced when she put her right foot on the floor.
“You’re not all right.” Hannah knelt next to her, touching the ankle gingerly. She could already feel the swelling. “It looks as if you’ve twisted this ankle. Maybe we should take you to the doctor.”
“No, no. It’ll be fine. I’ll put some ice on it after we get through the morning rush.”
“You’ll do no such thing. You’re going right back upstairs and get this elevated. Just let me settle Jamie, and I’ll take you up.”
Naomi came in the door as she spoke, taking in the scene with a quick glance. “I will get Jamie,” she said, going quickly to him. “Is she hurt bad?” She lifted Jamie from the play yard, and he clung to her, his tears waning.
“It is chust a sprain,” Aunt Paula declared. “I can work—”
“Hannah is right.” Naomi interrupted her with a look at Hannah that conveyed understanding. “We can handle the morning business. Best get off that foot.”
Paula looked for a moment as if she’d argue, but then she shook her head. “Ach, what chance do I have, the two of you ganging up on me?”
While her aunt grasped the railing with one hand, Hannah put her arm around Paula’s waist, and they made their way slowly up the steps. Obviously the trek was trying enough on her ankle that Paula sat down with a sigh in her favorite chair the instant they reached it.
Hannah shoved the hassock over and lifted the injured foot, gently removing the shoe. “It’s puffing up pretty fast. Are you sure you don’t want to go and have it checked?”
Paula shook her head. “I’ve twisted this same ankle before, and most likely I’ll do it again. The right one’s always been a bit weak. Chust you go on back downstairs. I’ll be fine.”
Ignoring the words, Hannah fetched an ice pack from the freezer, wrapped it in a towel, and placed it gently over the swollen ankle. “Do you want anything else? Some aspirin, a cup of coffee, a book?”
“Just push my sewing basket over here where I can reach it, and I’ll be fine.” She patted Hannah’s hand. “You’re a gut girl, Hannah. Now you go down and help Naomi.”
Knowing her aunt was probably more worried about the bakery than her ankle, Hannah nodded and started back downstairs.
“Call if you need anything. I’ll come and check on you in a bit.”
When she reached the bakery, she found that Naomi had settled Jamie back in the play yard, where he was busy running cars in and out of his new garage. Naomi stood behind the counter, waiting on the customers who were already showing up for their morning coffee.
“Thanks for taking care of Jamie.” Hannah pulled her white apron on, remembering Naomi’s reaction the time she’d said something about her making a good mother. “I think my aunt just has a sprained ankle, but still, the fall had to shake her up.”
“Ja, for sure. Paula never thinks she can slow down for a minute. It’s gut that you’re here.” Naomi looked up when the bell jangled again and turned to put another pot of coffee on.
For the next hour they dealt w
ith customers, working smoothly side by side, interrupted only when someone asked where Paula was. Hannah suspected that half the valley would know about Paula’s fall before lunchtime.
Sure enough, a few minutes later Katie Miller’s sister Rhoda, came hurrying in. “We heard about Paula’s accident, and my sister sent me along to help out. Can I?”
Hannah almost said they had it under control, but Rhoda looked so eager to help that Hannah didn’t want to disappoint her. Besides, learning to help their neighbors was part of Plain life.
“Why don’t you take the coffeepot and offer refills to the people at the tables?” she suggested.
“Ja, for sure.” Rhoda looked delighted at the prospect, and she carried the pot off quickly.
“She’s a gut girl,” Naomi said, watching her. “So pert and pretty. I hear the boys all want to bring her home from the singings.”
“And I hear there are lots of romances that start at those singings.”
Hannah glanced at Naomi, wondering a bit. Probably no one would describe her as beautiful, but Naomi’s serene oval face had a charm that surely must have attracted young men. Had Naomi just not found romance? Or had she been too busy for it?
“Ja, that’s true. Singings are a chance for teenagers to start pairing off.” For a moment it seemed Naomi would stop there. But the line had dwindled down, and Rhoda was tending to the customers at the tables. “I didn’t go to them much, myself. My mammi died when my youngest sister was a baby, so I was busy taking care of my brothers and sister.”
Hannah wasn’t sure how to respond. Naomi didn’t seem bitter, but surely she must have some regrets. “It sounds as if you had your hands full, but it’s a shame you had to miss . . .”
What? Romance? Marriage? Aunt Paula’s comments had made it sound as if Naomi’s father had been selfish, or at least that’s how Hannah had interpreted the remark.
“I didn’t think so much about it then,” Naomi said slowly, as if she were looking back at the girl she’d been. “But now that all my friends are married and have growing families of their own, it can get lonesome sometimes, ain’t so?”
Hannah nodded. “I know. It’s good to have women friends who are going through the things you are. It makes for strong bonds.”
“Your friend was here for a visit, ja? You were close with her.”
“We were.” Again Hannah hesitated, not sure how much to say. But the impulse was strong to confide in someone who didn’t claim to know what Hannah should be doing. “After my husband died, my friend Megan helped me out a lot. But now . . .”
She let that trail off, shrugging.
“You don’t have so much to talk about anymore, ain’t so?”
Hannah nodded. Naomi understood. In her own way, she was isolated, too, so she saw it in other people.
“I’ll go up and check on Aunt Paula, now that things here have quieted down a bit, if you can handle the shop.”
“For sure. And if Rhoda stays, we could manage the lunch rush wonderful easy,” Naomi said.
Hannah stopped at the end of the counter, remembering. William was supposed to come this afternoon. She’d hate to put him off again.
“Hannah? Was ist letz? I mean—”
“What’s wrong, I know.” Words and phrases in dialect kept popping back into her mind. “Just that William is supposed to come this afternoon. Maybe I should change the arrangements.”
“No need for that,” Naomi said. “I’m certain-sure we can manage. No reason to disappoint him.”
Hannah nodded, but as she hurried up the steps, she found she was thinking of those moments behind the fire hall. Would William be disappointed if they didn’t meet today? Or would he be just as happy to avoid her?
The feelings of attraction she’d felt had taken her by surprise, and she still didn’t know what to make of them. One thing she did know—William had felt them, too.
When Hannah reached the living room, her aunt was hand sewing a quilt patch. She started to get up, the ice bag sliding off to land on the floor.
“Do you need me? I can come down.”
“No, we don’t, and you’re staying right here.” Hannah pushed her gently back in the chair and picked up the ice pack. “I’ll get some fresh ice for that ankle, and you keep it elevated. Rhoda Miller has come to help, and she’s doing very well. With her here, Naomi and I feel sure we can handle everything right through. You just rest.”
“I should help.” Her aunt’s jaw had a stubborn set to it.
Hannah patted her shoulder. “If I were the one hurting, you’d insist that I sit still and let that swelling go down, ain’t so?”
Her aunt smiled at Hannah’s use of the Pennsylvania Dutch phrase. “All right. Ja, I will rest.”
Fetching another ice pack from the freezer, Hannah reflected that luckily it was one of those items any mother of a toddler had on hand. Then she detoured to the refrigerator and poured a glass of juice, adding a few cookies on a small plate and carrying them all in to her aunt.
“Here you are.” She put the ice bag in place, set the snack on the side table, and tucked a knitted afghan over Paula’s knees. “Don’t even think about coming down those stairs.”
Aunt Paula reached up to pat her cheek, and Hannah realized there were tears in her eyes.
Her heart clutched. “Are you in pain? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, nothing.” Paula blinked the tears away. “I’m being foolish, is all. But you’re taking such gut care of me.”
“No more than you’ve done for us,” she said.
“That is a pleasure, and you know it.” Her aunt hesitated, eyes serious. “You know, don’t you, that the bakery will go to you when I’m gone.”
“No, I . . .” Hannah’s head spun, and she shook it. “Don’t talk that way. You’ve only sprained your ankle, not had a heart attack. You have plenty of time to think about that.”
“There’s no thinking to do,” she said. “We planned it that way long ago, your uncle and I did, when we made out our wills. It is what both of us wanted.”
“I don’t know what to say.” Hannah couldn’t quite comprehend it. Why would they choose her?
“Don’t say anything.” Aunt Paula’s voice had regained its usual briskness. “There’s no need to. But I was just thinking that since you’re here now, maybe we shouldn’t wait. You’re taking on so much responsibility already. Maybe you should come in as a partner to me, right away.”
The shock of it left Hannah staring. “Aunt Paula, you don’t mean it. It’s your bakery. You’re the one who built it up. You shouldn’t—”
“Ja, it is mine, so it’s my decision what happens to it. You are already taking on so much, noticing what stock we need, making gut suggestions.” Her voice gentled. “I want you to feel a part of it, Hannah. All right?”
The offered gift was taking her breath away. Aunt Paula was showing her love in the most practical way she could.
But . . . for some reason she seemed to hear Megan’s voice in the back of her mind. She’ll do anything to keep you here. Anything.
That was foolish. But she couldn’t quite get it out of her head. And her aunt was waiting for a response.
She sucked in a deep breath. “I’m honored, Aunt Paula. Is it all right if I have some time to think about it?”
Disappointment showed for a moment in her aunt’s face before she masked it with a smile. “For sure. Take all the time you need. I won’t change my mind.”
She wouldn’t, Hannah felt sure of that. She just wished she felt as sure of her own mind.
* * *
William approached the bakery right on time, but he doubted he’d be staying. According to Katie, Hannah’s aunt had injured herself, so Hannah would have her hands full.
Maybe that was just as well. Hannah might be taking w
hat had happened between them in her stride, but he wasn’t.
He had to be on his guard. Friendship was one thing, but anything more would cause problems. If people even suspected he had feelings for Hannah, the gossip would fly.
Hannah probably didn’t understand the power of talk in a community like this one. It was the downside of living in a place where people cared so much for one another. They also knew too much.
Well, whether Hannah understood or not, it was his duty to protect her against careless talk. He pushed open the door.
Naomi was refilling the bakery case after the lunch rush, and Katie’s sister Rhoda looked cheerful to be wiping off tables. He nodded to her.
“K-K-Katie said y-you were h-helping.”
“Ja.” Rhoda’s eyes sparkled and she smiled, showing the dimples in her cheeks. “It was wonderful-gut fun, waiting on the tables. I could do it every day.”
“You would soon get tired of it,” Naomi said, smiling at her enthusiasm.
“H-how is P-Paula?” He approached the counter, preparing to be told Hannah didn’t have time for him today.
“Hannah had to threaten to close the bakery if she didn’t stay in her chair for today.” Naomi smiled to show that she was joking. “I think Paula is doing some better, but Hannah wants her to stay off her feet a bit longer.”
“I-if Hannah is b-busy, I c-can—”
“Ach, no, Hannah is expecting you.” Naomi waved her hand toward the kitchen door. “Go in, go in. She’s waiting for you.”
So. It looked like he’d have to figure out how to face Hannah already. He crossed the room and pushed the swinging door into the kitchen.
Hannah was putting the baby monitor on the counter, but she turned when she heard him. “Good, you’re here.” Her smile looked almost natural, but her gaze slid away from his face.
“Ja. B-but if y-you are b-busy . . .” He let that trail off, leaving the decision to her.
“No, it’s fine.” She carried a notebook to the table and waved to him to sit down. “You heard about my aunt, I guess.”
