A Home for Hannah

by Amy Lillard

  The horse reared up on its hind legs, snorted, then settled down on all four hooves once again.

  “How does he do that?” Brandon asked in awe.

  “It comes naturally to him,” Hannah replied. “Always has.”

  Brandon shook his head. “But the horse—” He shook his head again. “It’s so big. So strong.”

  He didn’t have to finish the thought out loud. The horse could trample Aaron in the blink of an eye. Run away, overpower him, drag him for miles. But she didn’t. She blew out a heavy breath and shook her mane.

  “Beautiful,” Brandon murmured.

  Hannah smiled. “I’m sure he won’t mind if you go watch.”

  “Really?” He grinned, looking so boyishly happy her heart melted. When he looked like that, it gave her hope. Hope that one day his shell would crack and she would see her boy again. At least in the man he would become.

  “Really.”

  He wasted no time, heading across the yard and climbing onto the slatted wooden gate for a better look at the action.

  Hannah watched him for a bit, then turned toward the house. Hope. It was a powerful thing, and after her conversation with her attorney, it was in very short supply.

  * * *

  Brandon shifted his weight on the narrow, wooden gate, but it didn’t take away the sting. His butt was beginning to get numb, but he couldn’t leave. He didn’t want to. All he wanted to do was watch the man work with the spirited horse.

  Everything about it intrigued him. The ripple of the horse’s muscles. The calm way the man pulled her toward him, patted the horse’s long, strong neck. The way she tossed her head as if to say, “I’ll do what you say, but you haven’t broken me entirely.”

  He knew how the beast felt. Everyone wanted to take him and shove him into a mold. They wanted him to be what they wanted him to be. They didn’t care what he wanted, how he felt. They didn’t listen to anything he had to say. Even his mom. She acted like she was listening, but she wasn’t hearing him. And every day he felt more and more trapped.

  But the horse . . .

  She understood. And the man . . . Aaron? He understood as well. He didn’t try to make the horse do something against her nature. He didn’t try to control all her power; he allowed her to channel that strength. Yeah, channel. That was the right word. All the beauty, power, and grace were still there under the surface. The horse wasn’t changed. She wasn’t even controlled. She was simply tempered.

  Why didn’t adults treat kids like that? Why did it always have to be all or nothing? His dad was that way. He wanted things the way he wanted them, and he didn’t care if Brandon had anything to say about it or not.

  He loved his dad. He was his dad. But they were constantly butting heads. Constantly at each other’s throats. Brandon felt as if his father hadn’t even liked him. He might have loved him, but he hadn’t liked who he was, what he liked, who he wanted to be. But now that he was gone . . .

  Brandon pushed those thoughts from his mind and concentrated on the show before him. He bet Aaron didn’t treat his kids that way. Not if he was so understanding with animals who couldn’t talk. He would be understanding. He would listen. Brandon just knew it.

  But his dad was dead now. His mom cried every night, and life would never be the same. To top it all off, he was stranded in Amish Land with no phone, no TV, and no computer except for the ancient paperweight at the public library.

  But thinking about the library brought back memories of Shelly. She was like the horses that pulled the carriages: no trouble, always doing as she was told. But all these horses lived side by side, the good ones and the trouble makers. Maybe there was hope for him yet.

  Yeah, he liked that idea.

  “McLean!” He turned and shaded his eyes as a figure came into view.

  “Gingerich.”

  His cousin waved with his left hand, and Brandon noticed that once again he carried a fishing pole—two fishing poles—and a bucket of worms. “Holding down the fence?”

  “Yeah.” No way was he telling his cousin how beautiful he thought the horse was. Or how interested he was in her training. If it was one of his friends from back home, Brandon would never hear the end of it. He wasn’t sure how Joshua would respond, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

  “Well, get down from there. We have fish to catch.”

  Brandon gave the horse and man one last look, then swung his leg over the gate. Fishing sounded like a fine idea.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Please tell me you aren’t wearing that.” Gracie came down the stairs, pointing toward Hannah’s standard dress of jeans and a T-shirt.

  “You have an unhealthy interest in my clothing, you know that?”

  Gracie just grinned. “We are all going over to Sarah Hostetler’s. All of us.”

  “Yeah, and?”

  “And you will be the only one there dressed like . . . that.”

  Hannah crossed her arms and tapped one foot. “Putting me in an Amish dress and parading me in front of Aaron Zook is not going to change anything.”

  Gracie tsked. “This has nothing to do with Aaron, and everything to do with fitting in while you’re here.”

  Fitting in? “I didn’t fit in before I left. What makes you think I can fit in now?”

  “Don’t be like that. You should change and wear a dress, and you know it.”

  Hannah gave her jeans one last look, released a heavy sigh, and plodded up the stairs. She wanted to tell Gracie how wrong she was, but she couldn’t find the words. Maybe because she wasn’t entirely wrong. Maybe she should wear a dress to the frolic. She would certainly get fewer looks since she was dressed like everyone else. And fewer looks meant more would get done. For Sarah. She would wear a dress for Sarah. It was just one more way that she could help.

  * * *

  Aaron pulled into the Gingeriches’ drive, barely getting the buggy stopped before his children opened the door and hopped out.

  “Bye, Dat,” Laura Kate called. Essie waved, but Andy made his way up the stairs without a backward glance.

  Aaron returned her wave, then almost swallowed his own tongue as Hannah came out of the house. She was followed by Gracie, but Aaron only had eyes for Hannah.

  How could one person look so different and still so much the same?

  “Are you ready to go?” Gracie asked. She pulled herself up and wiggled her way into the back of the carriage before Aaron could even say hello.

  “Hi.” He centered his attention on Hannah. She was dressed in an Amish frack again today. His confusion was mounting. Not that it mattered. Ohio. He had to concentrate on Ohio and his dreams and plans for the future.

  “Hi,” she replied, pulling herself up and into the seat next to him. “Are you ready for this?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” he replied, and set the horse into motion around the circular drive that looped between the house and the barn.

  “I’m really proud of Sarah,” Gracie said.

  Sarah was making right by herself, but Aaron knew how hard working for oneself could really be. He wouldn’t want to see Gracie caught up in that. Why she had never married was a mystery to him. He hadn’t heard any gossip about her seeing anyone. If she didn’t get married she could very well find herself in the same situation as Sarah.

  The motion of the carriage pushed him toward Hannah. Their shoulders brushed, and thoughts of Sarah Hostetler fled. Suddenly he was filled with nostalgia. Perhaps that was what this was all about. It wasn’t that he loved Hannah still, but that he loved the idea of her, of first love and everything they had shared. He couldn’t say that he wished he could go back. He couldn’t minimize his life that way, yet he wondered how things might have been different. But there was no going back. God’s will had prevailed. What was supposed to happen happened. Yet, he was only human.

  Thankfully they were almost to the Hostetlers’ farm. He didn’t have time to dwell on the problem long.

  Several buggies were already par
ked in the side yard, and another pulled in just behind them. Seemed most of the community had turned out to help. Aaron was glad Eunice had offered to keep his children so he could donate his time. He didn’t get to do this much, get out and lend a hand. He’d been so busy lately trying to keep the farm going and take care of the kids, he’d almost become a recluse, keeping to himself and getting out only for church. That sort of life wasn’t healthy.

  They piled out of the buggy. Gracie smoothed her hands over her prayer kapp and glanced around the yard. “It looks like the men are getting ready to saw something.”

  “Shelves, I would imagine,” Hannah said.

  “I’ll go see if I can lend a hand.” Aaron tipped his chin at the girls, then sauntered away.

  He had come here to help; so why did he want to get back in the buggy and whisk Hannah away to the swimming hole?

  He shook his head at himself. Nostalgia, plain and simple. He needed to get a handle on it, and quick. Before he did something he couldn’t take back.

  * * *

  Hannah was impressed with the setup that Sarah had designed for herself. Hannah’s own father had built the shed that housed the new shop. It was a commercial kitchen in the back, with a store-type setup in the front. People could come and watch Sarah make her candy as well as buy the yummy treats. The best part was that Sarah’s three small children, all under the age of four, could be near her as she worked.

  They painted boards, hung them as shelves, cleaned windows, and helped Sarah organize what would be her opening stock.

  “So,” Gracie asked midway through the frolic, “when’s opening day?”

  Sarah wiped a hand across her brow, then surveyed all that they had accomplished. “I’m hoping the day after tomorrow.”

  “That will be good.” Hannah nodded, taking a step back to look at the items she had just neatly lined up on the shelf. “This place will be unique.”

  “Do you think?” Sarah’s confidence had been slipping as the day progressed. When they had first arrived, she had looked completely sure of herself; now she more resembled a young child looking for parental support.

  “I do.”

  Sarah practically wilted with relief. “Okay. Good.”

  “I think what you’re doing is noble,” Hannah said. She, more than anyone else at the frolic, knew what kind of courage it took to start over. But planning was one thing, and actually carrying those plans through another.

  Sarah smiled prettily. “Danki. That means a lot to me.”

  But Hannah had questions. “Does this mean you’re not going to get married again?”

  Sarah shrugged one shoulder even as she shook her head. “I don’t know what the Lord has planned for me, but I don’t want to feel this way again. Like I can’t take care of my children. Paul David . . .” She shook her head sadly. “He was a good husband and father, and I relied on him. Because of that, I have nothing to show for myself. I want to know that I can care for my family come what may.”

  “The church—” Hannah started, but Sarah shook her head.

  “This is something I have to do for myself.”

  Hannah nodded. She understood. She had allowed Mitch to take care of everything, and because of that, she had nothing. All these years, and she didn’t have any money in the bank. She had no home, a clunker of a car, no education. How was she supposed to keep Brandon on the right path if she was off in the weeds herself?

  It was the first question she needed to answer before she could move forward at all.

  * * *

  Aaron wiped his forehead with a rag and settled his hat back into place. August in Mississippi was hot, and this year seemed worse than most. The old folks said that meant a bad winter, and Aaron would rather have the heat over ice any day.

  “Are you about finished here?” Daniel Hostetler came up behind him and clasped Aaron on the shoulder.

  He had known Daniel as long as he could remember. They had all run around together, made trips to Tennessee and somehow made their way to the church. Daniel was Sarah’s brother-in-law, and had agreed to help today by feeding everyone once the frolic was complete.

  Aaron looked to the shelf he’d just hung, trying to decide if the brackets were crooked or the board was simply warped. Either way, it was a little off-kilter. “I just need to get this last shelf straight, and I’m done.”

  Daniel nodded. “I could use a hand at the grill.”

  “Jah, sure,” Aaron said, even though the thought of standing behind a fire pit in this heat was enough to have more sweat beading under the brim of his hat.

  Heat or not, he had enjoyed this afternoon. It was good to get away from his own farm. It was only an added bonus that he was able to help someone in need.

  He had heard what Sarah had said to Hannah about needing to feel like she could support her family. He’d never really thought about it before, but Amish women in their community were dependent on their husbands to bring in most of the money. In Sarah’s case, Paul David had brought in all their income. Aaron had been fortunate, he supposed. He was able to make a living and care for his children. He didn’t have to get remarried for financial reasons, though he knew he should. If only for his children. There were times when they needed more than he could give. They needed a softer touch. Maybe that was why they had raced inside the Gingeriches’ house, excited to spend the afternoon with Eunice.

  Just one more vote for moving to Ohio. He couldn’t imagine marrying any of the eligible women in Pontotoc. Actually, he couldn’t imagine getting married at all, but moving and having new people to meet might make the task a bit easier.

  He took a step back and eyed the adjustment. The board was warped, that was all there was to it. He straightened it as much as possible, then walked outside.

  The exterior of the shed had been covered with white siding. The inside was left unpainted, and though most of it was newly milled wood, there were a couple of boards that had been reused from other projects. He could only hope that the sign at the road would have people turning in, driving down the lane to see what all Sarah had for sale. They were a simple people and didn’t try to be anything other than what they were. There were no bright colors, swirly letters, or other gimmicks to get people to turn in. Sarah would need prayer upon prayer to get her business started.

  One last look at the work they had put in today and Aaron headed over to the grill, where Daniel already had coals burning.

  It might be entirely too hot to cook over an open fire, but he was glad he came out today. He glanced over to where Hannah stood talking to the other women.

  So glad.

  * * *

  “Hey.”

  Hannah started as Aaron dropped down onto the grass next to her. She had filled her plate with a hamburger and beans and had made her way to the shade to wait for Gracie.

  She had never expected that Aaron would show up first.

  “Have I told you that you look very nice in that dress?” She looked down at the Amish frack she had worn for the occasion. Funny how she had donned the dress and felt strange for about ten minutes. Since then she hadn’t given it a second thought. “‘This old thing? Why, I only wear it when I don’t care how I look.’”

  “What?” Aaron frowned.

  Hannah shook her head. “It’s from a movie.”

  “Oh.” Aaron set his plate on the ground in front of him, then picked it up again as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself.

  “Thank you,” Hannah said.

  Aaron looked up and met her gaze, his expression puzzled.

  “For the compliment. I wasn’t sure if I should wear this today, but Gracie said I should, and—”

  As if conjured by the sound of her voice, Gracie rounded the tree under which they sat, looked from one of them to the other, and started backing away.

  Thankfully, Aaron’s back was to her, and he didn’t see her quick escape.

  Hannah shook her head. But Gracie scooted away before she could voice any sort of prot
est.

  “Is everything okay?” he asked.

  Hannah took a drink of her lemonade and smiled as if all was right with the world. “Of course. What could be wrong?”

  He turned to look behind him, but Gracie was already gone. He faced front again, a frown still lingering.

  “It’s Gracie,” Hannah admitted.

  “What about her?” He took a bite of his burger and chewed as he waited for her answer.

  “I really do think she’s trying to get us together.”

  “Is your entire family into matchmaking?”

  “Probably.” Her gaze met his, and they started to laugh.

  “Why is that, do you suppose?” he finally asked.

  Hannah shrugged. “Maybe they think love will make me stay.” Maybe she should have used a word other than love, but it was already out there, and she couldn’t bring it back now.

  “And will it?”

  Her conversation with Sarah Hostetler rose to her mind. “No,” she quietly said. She couldn’t allow love to make all her decisions. Love had kept her away, but she knew that there was more to it than that. Like Sarah, she had to know that she could make it on her own. She hadn’t been without anyone in a long time. When she had left Pontotoc, she’d had Leah. Then Mitch. Now that he was gone, she was on her own. She had to get back out there and live, knowing that she could care for herself without the help of anyone else.

  It was as if a shade had dropped over his eyes. The blue darkened, covered by unreadable shadows. “I see.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, I understand.”

  She shook her head. “No, you probably don’t, but that’s okay.”

  “Then explain it to me.”

  Hannah finished what she wanted of her burger and set her plate to one side. Eating everything on her plate was one habit she had broken years ago. She had saved herself hundreds of calories and miles and miles on the treadmill. “When I left here, I only wanted to see what the Englisch world was really like. I wanted to make it there, as they say. But that has never happened. I let my husband control everything, and because of that, I didn’t succeed at all.”