Her Brother's Keeper

by Beth Wiseman

  She piled more butter on the homemade bread and let it melt in her mouth. She rarely ate bread at home, but it didn’t taste like this. She closed her eyes and sighed, letting the warm, buttery taste settle onto her palate. If she kept eating like this, she would be huge by the time she went home. Opening her eyes, she saw Lena come through the living room and stop at the window.

  “Ach, gut,” Lena said as she made her way back to the kitchen. “That’s Hannah pulling in now. She’s been eager for you to get here, to have someone close to her age to pal around with.”

  “And I’ve been looking forward to coming,” Charlotte said, finding comfort in her truthful response. Running around with Hannah might shed some light on what happened to Ethan, but Charlotte bit her tongue and fought the tremble in her bottom lip as Hannah walked into the kitchen. She was just as beautiful as Ethan had said. On the outside, anyway.

  Hannah wasn’t in the mood to make small talk. She never was on the days she strayed off the beaten path. After she’d dropped off Widow Hostetler, she’d gone to her special place, the spot where she’d buried her memories of Ethan. He’d died almost a year ago, and she was sure she’d never find that kind of love again. But she was determined to be polite to this cousin they’d recently found. It seemed important to her mother to have discovered relatives all the way in Texas, but a month’s visit was a bit long.

  “This is Mary,” her mother said as she put a hand on Mary’s shoulder. “It’s her first time to Pennsylvania, so after we work in the garden tomorrow, maybe you can show her around.”

  “Ya. Of course.” Hannah eased into a chair next to Mary and across from where her mother took a seat. She bowed her head and offered thanks before she reached for a slice of bread. “Welcome, Mary. We’ve been looking forward to your visit.” She smiled at her cousin, but hoped she wouldn’t be the only one entertaining Mary for a month. She was certain that was her mother’s plan, for Mary to help Hannah find her way back into the world of the living.

  “Tell us, Mary . . . what do you do best?” Mamm always asked this question, assuming everyone had a special talent. “Hannah is our seamstress. She sews much better than I do. Jacob tends the fields with his father, but he also takes care of the animals since he has a special knack for that. And mei husband is a masterful carpenter.” Mamm’s eyes twinkled as she placed a palm on the table. “He made this table and chairs and most of our other furniture.”

  “And Mamm is probably the best cook in our district,” Hannah added. “She comes up with her own recipes and shares them with the other women.” Her mother waved a hand and shook her head. “She also has a green thumb.”

  “I believe the Lord blesses each of us with a special gift. What is your special gift, Mary?” Hannah’s mother laid her fork across her plate and tipped her head to one side.

  “Uh, well . . .” Mary glanced back and forth at Hannah and her mother. “Uh . . . I’m not sure. I guess I dabble here and there. I used to paint, but I haven’t in a long time.”

  “Paint?” Hannah halted her fork in midair. “Paint what? Walls? Fences?”

  “No. Nee. I-I used to paint pictures . . . landscapes.” Mary’s cheeks took on a pinkish tint.

  Hannah nodded. “Ach, and you sold these paintings?” There was a man in their community who painted pictures of Amish homes. Word was that he sold them to the Englisch for a lot of money. Hannah had heard her mother say she didn’t approve of this, but Hannah didn’t think it was much different from the ways that others in their community made an income. Handmade quilts and Amish furniture brought in a lot of money.

  Mary shifted her weight in the chair, her cheeks still rosy. “Um. No. It was just for fun.” She shrugged. “A hobby.”

  For fun? Hannah managed a smile as she wondered what Mary could contribute while she was here, how she could ease their workload for a month. But Mary was a guest, so Hannah shouldn’t expect too much. Maybe such hobbies were encouraged in Mary’s district. “You have a nice accent. Very southern.”

  “Yeah. Ya. People from Texas get that a lot. We have a drawl. And some of us say y’all a lot.”

  Even the Amish folks? Mary fidgeted with her fork and shifted her weight in the chair again. Hannah had an urge to straighten Mary’s kapp, but her cousin was already blushing, so she didn’t want to embarrass her further. It was strange that Mary had the strings from her prayer covering tied under her chin. She’d never seen anyone tie theirs before. “Where are Daed and Jacob?”

  “They went to the lumberyard this morning and said they would eat in town.” Mamm turned to Mary. “Most days, mei husband and sohn eat lunch with us.”

  Mary nodded as she scooted her chair back and stood up when Hannah and her mother did. “I think I’ll take a nap, if that’s okay. It was a long flight.”

  Hannah glanced at her mother. Even guests would offer to help with cleanup after a meal. But traditions and rules varied from state to state, even district to district.

  “I told Mary she should rest,” Mamm quickly said as she dried her hands on the dish towel. “Why don’t you go help her get settled while I clean the kitchen? I told her Jacob could haul her suitcases upstairs later.”

  Hannah would have rather done cleanup, but she nodded and walked with Mary to the stairs and picked up the third suitcase after Mary latched on to two. Apparently their cousin didn’t want to wait on Jacob. “Lots of luggage.”

  Mary looked over her shoulder and smiled. “I probably overpacked.”

  I’ll say. When they got to the top of the stairs, Mary stepped aside so Hannah could walk ahead of her down the hallway. “My room is the first one on the left. Jacob’s is on the right.” She paused at the third door. “This is your room. We share the bathroom at the end of the hall. Mamm and Daed’s room is downstairs; they have their own bathroom. The mudroom on the first floor is set up as our sewing room.”

  Hannah set the suitcase down, walked to the window, and rolled up the green shade, then lifted the window. “I bet our weather seems very pleasant to you. I’ve heard it’s miserably hot in Texas—and humid.”

  “It is. Thank God for air conditioning.” Mary chuckled, but stopped when she caught Hannah’s expression.

  “You have indoor cooling?”

  “No, no, no.” Mary shook her head. “I meant . . . you know . . . like in the malls. In public places. Hair salons. Places—places like that.”

  “Things must be very different where you are from.” Hannah had never been in a hair salon, and they avoided the malls. Everything they needed could be purchased nearby at the fabric store or the market.

  Mary walked to the window. “There’s a guy out by the barn.”

  Hannah joined her cousin at the window, noticing Mary’s scrutinizing gaze. “Everyone is excited when they lay eyes on Isaac Miller for the first time.” She allowed her cousin a few more moments to take in Isaac’s well-proportioned, muscular body and wavy, dark hair peeking from beneath his straw hat. If her cousin looked hard enough, she might get a glimpse of Isaac’s kind eyes, as blue as a robin’s egg. “Twenty-seven years old and never married.”

  “He’s gorgeous.” Mary’s eyes were fixed on Isaac. Luckily she didn’t notice Hannah’s scowl. Gorgeous seemed a strange word to describe a man. “Why hasn’t anyone snagged such a hunk?”

  Hannah narrowed her eyebrows. She wasn’t sure she liked this Texas slang. “Many have tried but Isaac shies away. Maybe he just hasn’t found the right girl. Plus, his father is ill.”

  “Hmm . . .” Mary kept her eyes on him. “What’s he doing out there?”

  Hannah leaned closer to the window, squinting against the sun’s glare at the tall, dark-haired man she’d grown up with. “He comes by once a week and leaves Daed an envelope of money. Isaac’s family owns a furniture store in the touristy part of Lancaster County. Daed has some of his furniture and other things he’s made on consignment.”

  “Why does he leave the money in the barn?” Mary also shielded her eyes from the glare.


  “I’m not sure. He’s always done that.” She tilted her head slightly. “Mamm said he probably doesn’t want to disturb us, which he wouldn’t be.” Hannah paused. “By the way, tomorrow is worship, and it happens to be at Isaac’s house.”

  “Does he have his own house or does he live with his parents?” Mary continued to look out the window.

  “He lives with his parents. I think mostly because of his father’s cancer. Isaac does most of the work on their farm.” Hannah stepped away from the window, hoping her cousin would do the same. But Mary didn’t move, so Hannah cleared her throat. “Do you want me to help you unpack?” She waited, then said, “Mary?”

  “Uh. No. It’s okay. I can get it.” Mary joined her by the bed, and again Hannah had an urge to straighten her cousin’s kapp.

  “Please let me know if you need anything.” She folded her hands in front of her, hoping she could sneak off to her room and have a few moments to herself. It was exhausting to act normal when she was dying inside. Her grief still came in waves, and today the tide was high.

  “Okay. Thanks.” Mary smiled, and Hannah chose not to question Mary about her use of so much Englisch. And she promised herself she was going to try to have a good attitude about their cousin’s visit. Maybe Mary would provide a nice distraction and eventually become a friend. She gave a quick wave, then hurried to her bedroom.

  Charlotte sat down on the bed and fumbled through her purse until she found her cell phone. She scrolled through her contacts until she found Ryan’s number. He answered on the first ring.

  “You there, all settled in?”

  “Yep. I’m here.” She spoke softly as she pulled off the prayer covering and tossed it beside her on the bed, then she pulled out the bobby pins holding her hair in a tight bun. She shook her head, her blond waves falling to the middle of her back. “And it’s pretty much like I thought it would be.” She sighed. “Hot, no air conditioning. But they seem nice, I guess. It’s hard for me to imagine that these people choose to live like this, though.” She eased out of her black loafers, then her black socks, wiggling her toes. “And it’s even harder for me to imagine that Ethan wanted to live like this.”

  As her brother’s best friend, Ryan was just as anxious to find out what happened to Ethan. When she was younger, Charlotte had a crush on Ryan, but he was a few years older than her, and he and her brother had run around with an older crowd. Since Ethan’s death, Charlotte had met Ryan for lunch a few times, and they’d put their heads together trying to figure out what would cause Ethan to take his life. A couple of times, Charlotte caught Ryan staring at her in a way that could have been mistaken for romantic interest, but she was pretty sure he would always see her as Ethan’s little sister. She thought about how Ethan would have turned thirty this year.

  “Maybe you’ll get some answers while you’re there.”

  “I’m going to try,” Charlotte said as she propped the pillow up against the headboard. “Right now, I just want to take a nap.” She sighed. “Although, it’s so hot in here, I’m not sure that’s possible. But I’m pooped.”

  “Okay. Well, glad you made it there safely. Keep me posted if Hannah or the others shed any light about what happened.”

  Charlotte swung her legs on to the bed and closed her eyes as she thought about her brother. They’d had a hard life growing up, and Ethan had battled depression over the years. But she’d thought he had found happiness here. It wasn’t the ideal situation—him living with the Amish—but all she’d ever really wanted was for Ethan to be happy. Obviously, something had gone terribly wrong.

  Two

  Hannah shifted her weight to her left knee as she packed dirt around the tiny Tiger Eyes that she and her mother had seeded indoors weeks ago. She allowed her eyes to drift in Mary’s direction. Their cousin didn’t seem to know much about gardening, and she’d been whining all morning about the heat. Her dress was a wrinkled mess even though Hannah had put an iron in the guest bedroom. And once again, her cousin’s kapp was lopsided.

  “Ach, much deeper, dear.” Mamm lifted herself up off the dewy soil and walked to where Mary was pitifully trying to plant the flowers. “Like this,” Mamm said as she lifted the plant from its shallow burial, then dug a hole half the depth of her spade.

  “Sorry.” Mary hung her head for a few moments before she looked up. “I guess gardening was never really my thing. Y’all are much better at this.”

  No kidding. And there was that strange word again—y’all. Hannah didn’t harp on it, but let her thoughts slip back to a year ago, when Ethan had helped her put the garden in and plant flowers in the beds. Mamm had taken ill, and for a few days Ethan had come over after his shift at the lumberyard to help her. I miss you every single day, Ethan. As sadness threatened to consume her, she forced herself to remember that day as the happy time that it was. She prayed often that someday she’d find comfort in her memories and not get swallowed up by grief.

  She recalled the first time she’d seen Ethan. He was wearing blue jeans and a white T-shirt. They’d locked eyes from across the diner where he was eating lunch alone. Hannah rarely ate lunch in town, but a visit to the market for more flour had taken longer than Hannah had expected. If she hadn’t been craving the diner’s club sandwich and a root beer, she might not have met the handsome Englisch man who would one day propose to her. Nor could she have foreseen his tragic death and the hole it would leave in her heart. If Ethan hadn’t come to Pennsylvania to work on the project in Lancaster County, and been running late himself, their chance meeting might not have happened. The diner had been so crowded, Ethan was near her table, eating while standing up. There was an extra chair at Hannah’s table, and it seemed rude not to offer it to him.

  “I think that about finishes us up here,” Mamm said as she shook loose dirt from her hands and stood up. “Hannah, you should take Mary to Paradise and the surrounding towns this afternoon. So much to do in so little time.”

  She’ll be here a month. Hannah bit her lip and smiled. “Ya.” She turned to Mary. “Unless you want a day to rest from your travels.”

  Mary shook her head. “No, I’m fine with visiting town.”

  Hannah nodded, dreading having to put on a happy face. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe her cousin liked pizza. Jacob wouldn’t eat any type of tomato sauce, so Predisio’s Pizzeria was never an option on the rare times that her family ate out.

  “Gut, gut,” Mamm said. “You girls go and have fun today. After lunch, I’m going to finish some sewing projects.”

  Hannah forced another smile before she headed in to clean up. A short while later, she hitched the horse to her spring buggy.

  Charlotte climbed into the topless buggy and reminded herself not to let on that this was her first time to travel this way. There was an air of excitement about the adventure, even though she was unsure if she wanted to be friends with her tour guide. But being friendly was the only way she was going to find out about Ethan.

  After a bumpy ride down the gravel driveway, they turned onto a blacktop road. Riding into the breeze was refreshing until the horse began to relieve himself. She cringed, but forgot about it when she saw them approaching a highway. Bracing herself, she hoped Hannah would be able to get them safely across the busy intersection. But instead of crossing to the other side, she turned left and took up a steady trot on a narrow lane to the right of the traffic. Charlotte held her breath as cars whizzed by, and she could feel the color draining from her face as she white-knuckled the dash in front of her.

  “Wow,” she said as a large truck whipped past them.

  Hannah picked up speed, but turned briefly toward Charlotte. “It wonders me if you are all right?”

  Charlotte released the breath she was holding. “Sure. Yes. Ya. I’m fine.” She paused as she struggled to control her erratic breathing. “We just don’t usually travel on busy highways like this in our wagons.” She glanced quickly at Hannah, just as another big truck almost blew them into oblivion. “B
uggies.” She kicked herself again. “We, uh . . . sometimes . . . we, uh . . . call them wagons.”

  Hannah didn’t react as she steered the buggy down a road on their right. “I thought you might like to visit the Gordonville Bookstore.”

  Charlotte didn’t care where they visited. She was just thankful to be off the highway. “Ya, that would be . . . gut.”

  She stepped out of the buggy and waited in the small parking lot while Hannah tethered the horse at the hitching post. Around them were several buggies and a few cars. She took hold of the opportunity to really study the woman beside her. She was tall, several inches taller than Charlotte. And slender. Her hair was dark as coal, and her face lightly tanned. Even without makeup and her hair tucked underneath her cap, she was truly beautiful. On the outside, Charlotte reminded herself, and an uneasy feeling swept over her again. In Ethan’s last letter to her, he said he was worried about his relationship with Hannah. He hadn’t shared any details, but Charlotte wondered if maybe Hannah had called off the engagement. Had she broken Ethan’s heart?

  “This is where the locals shop for books and school supplies.”

  Charlotte nodded as she got in step beside Hannah. She knew the Amish only went to school through the eighth grade, and she couldn’t help but wonder how they got away with that. In most places, children were required by law to go to school or be homeschooled until they turned seventeen. What keeps the officers in charge of truants away from the Amish community?

  The store was obviously owned by Amish people: no lights, no air conditioning. Large skylights streamed natural lighting into the store. A lanky, older man behind the counter greeted them when they walked in. In Pennsylvania Dutch. Charlotte’s chest tightened as she recalled her visits with the Amish women in Beeville. They spoke almost entirely in English. This was going to be a big problem if these Lancaster Amish people constantly reverted to this other language.