A Son's Vow

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  Though Aaron had never minded farm work, he’d never cared for the solitary days spent in fields with only a hoe or a pair of horses. The enforced quiet got to him. So did the number of tasks that were never-ending. Before he knew what was happening, the long hours with only his doubts and worries to focus on made every problem feel pronounced and every doubt magnified.

  Today was no different. As he looked toward the barn, the sun’s descent over the horizon making him squint, Aaron’s frustration with his life grew.

  Whether he liked it or not, he was going to spend the majority of his life ankle-deep in mud with only his dark thoughts for company.

  After unhooking the pair of field horses from the plow, Aaron headed toward the barn, wiping sweat from his brow with a bandanna. The horses followed behind him complacently. They seemed to be as eager as he to end the day.

  He didn’t blame them. It had been a long, exasperating day. He’d made more than one mistake and his mistakes had cost him precious time. Though he’d plowed many an hour by his father’s side, Aaron was beginning to realize that he’d never really watched and listened to what his father had told him.

  He wished he had. But just like the rest of his hopes and dreams, it was a wish that was doomed to remain unrealized. The fire at the mill had taken that.

  Now, because of Lukas Kinsinger needing to prove something to Darla, Aaron didn’t even have his job at the lumber mill.

  Farming was all he had.

  When he opened the barn doors, he realized that neither Evan nor Samuel had done their chores. Anger filled his heart. Though he was tempted to march into the house and force them, he was too tired to make the effort.

  All he wanted was to pull off his mud-covered boots, take a long shower, and finally sit down with a big glass of water.

  “Come, Jack and Jill.” After guiding the horses to a pen, he cleaned their stalls and refilled their water and feed troughs.

  Forty minutes later, the horses were settled and he was wiping more sweat from his brow and neck. Aaron smelled like mud and straw and a whole lot of other things he’d rather not name.

  Coming into the kitchen, the first thing he saw was Patsy cooking and the twins sitting at the table doing homework. All three of them glanced his way.

  “You’re in late,” Patsy said.

  Knowing the reason why, his temper snapped. “It’s your fault, boys. You neglected your chores in the barn.”

  Evan frowned. “Sorry, Aaron. I forgot.”

  “You forgot?”

  “Jah,” Samuel said, looking uncomfortable. “We had a lot of homework. Percentages and writing.”

  He hated that they had excuses. “Daed would never have let me get away with that. You two are worthless. You should have been out there. I had to do your chores for you.”

  “That’s enough, Aaron,” Patsy said as she turned away from the pot she was stirring at the stove. “They made a mistake.”

  “Don’t make excuses for them. They are too old for that.” Pointing to the door, he said, “You both go up to your room. I’ll deal with you in a while.”

  Without a word, the boys gathered their books together and went upstairs.

  “What are you going to do?” Patsy asked.

  “What do you think? I’m going to teach them to mind me.”

  Patsy’s eyes widened. “Daed wouldn’t have liked you being harsh with them.”

  “Daed ain’t here.”

  “Aaron—”

  “Leave me be!” he cried before stomping to the stairs.

  He was so tired. Exhausted. Worries about how he was going to take care of Hope had filled his night, forcing him to spend hours staring at the dark instead of getting the rest he needed. He had far too many burdens and no one to share them with. No one with whom he could be completely honest. He was floundering, his family was suffering, and there was no end in sight.

  All because their father died far too young and now Aaron had no job.

  The minute he turned the corner, he spied Darla walking down the stairs. It made no sense, but he’d grown to hate the sight of her.

  She was thriving while he was suffering.

  She was going on about her life while he was still trying to pick up the pieces.

  “Hello, Aaron,” she said, stepping to one side as he started walking up the stairs.

  “Who brought you home?”

  Her blue eyes clouded with worry. “What?”

  “You know what I’m talking about. Did Kinsinger walk you home?” When she nodded, looking almost defiant, the last of his patience evaporated. His temper boiled to the surface and he was as unable to prevent himself from exploding as he was from controlling virtually anything else in his life.

  But still he tried.

  Gritting his teeth, he said, “I told you I didn’t want you near Lukas. I told you that.”

  “You don’t get to make that choice, Aaron. I’ll spend time with Lukas if I want to.”

  Clenching his fists, he glared at her. “He fired me.”

  “You were going to quit, anyway,” she said, as if she had any right to talk to him that way. “Now, step aside. I need to go help Patsy finish supper.”

  When he refused to move, she sighed and attempted to push by him. Reaching out, he grabbed her wrist. “Don’t walk away from me. I’m talking to you.”

  “Let go of me, Aaron.”

  Though his heart was telling him to release her, he couldn’t make himself do that. His actions felt beyond his control. Before he realized what he was doing, he pressed harder, until he felt faint indentions form on her soft skin. “Don’t tell me what to do. Ever.”

  When Darla cried out, he pulled. His mind in a fog, he saw her opposite hand reach for the banister and try to right herself. And because he was so much stronger, he watched himself jerk her wrist again.

  Darla’s voice turned shrill. Panicked. “Aaron! Let go!”

  Doors opened above them. He heard his sisters gasp and his brothers whisper to each other.

  He didn’t dare look away from Darla. “Mind me, or I’ll make you.”

  Tears formed in her eyes. Those blue eyes that were so like his own. She was breathing hard. The skin around her lips was white, though whether from pain or fear, he didn’t know.

  And then, like a switch had just been flipped, reality returned.

  Appalled with himself, he dropped her arm. While she sagged against the wall, he tore upstairs. Not trusting himself to look any of his siblings in the eye, he stared straight ahead and strode past them all.

  After grabbing a towel from the hallway linen closet, he walked directly to the bathroom and slammed the door behind him. He pulled the shower curtain back, turned on the water as hot as he could stand it, and stripped off his mud-caked and sweat-stained clothes.

  Only then did he let himself think about the damage he’d likely done to his sister’s wrist.

  How much he’d frightened his little sisters.

  How disappointed his father would have been.

  Only then did he step into the hot spray, close his eyes, and silently cry.

  Chapter 12

  April 2

  Hannah hoped her parents never discovered that she was starting to feel more at home on Plum Street than she did on her own street. As she lounged next to Christopher on the blue-and-yellow-checkered quilt in the Rosses’ backyard, lazily looking through one of Mrs. Ross’s Better Homes and Gardens magazines, Hannah tried to tell herself that this was just a passing phase.

  But it didn’t feel that way.

  Maybe it was because she now called Mr. and Mrs. Ross by their Christian names, saying hello to York and Melissa each morning when she walked through their front door. Now, she got herself a cup of coffee while Melissa darted around the kitchen, doing just one more thing before rushing out the door. York and she now teased each other about everything from his determination to never carry an umbrella to how seriously he took his Tuesday night softball league game.

 
Maybe it was because she was spending more time with Christopher and his life than she was in her own Amish world.

  Whatever the reason, she no longer stared at Christopher’s favorite DVD in confusion, wondering why he was so fascinated with the cartoon figures or their outlandish songs. She could now work their microwave as easily as their washer and dryer.

  And she no longer felt shy or awkward whenever Rob stopped by in the middle of the afternoon.

  He never stayed very long, but after double-checking with Christopher’s parents to make sure they didn’t mind, Hannah had discovered that she looked forward to his company.

  No doubt it was because of his happy personality. Rob was completely ignorant about her loss and, therefore, didn’t treat her as if she might break. Instead, he told her about his job, which seemed to mainly consist of staring at a blank computer screen and writing copious research notes.

  He was also something of a cook, which had taken her by surprise. At least once a week he brought her a bowl of soup he’d just made or a slice of pizza or, once, a plate of cookies.

  “Hey, Hannah?”

  Startled, she glanced to the side, where the split-rail fence divided the Rosses’ yard with their neighbor’s. When she saw it was Rob, she smiled. “Hello.”

  “Hey,” he said again. “I saw you were out here and that Chris was sleeping. Want some company for a half hour?”

  He always did that. He always asked permission to join her. He never pushed too hard or stayed too long. The first time he came over, he stayed for only ten minutes. Then it was fifteen. Now it seemed that they’d reached the thirty-minute mark.

  In spite of knowing that she shouldn’t be growing so attached to an English man, Hannah found herself looking forward to his visits. Now she didn’t even pretend that she wasn’t happy to see him.

  “I’ve been looking at the same magazine page for the last hour. I’d love the company,” she said with a smile.

  Grinning, Rob opened up the gate and slipped through the rather narrow opening.

  As he walked closer, Hannah noticed that he was wearing baggy army-green shorts, a white T-shirt, and flip-flops in honor of the warm day. Though shorts were new, his casualness was not. She’d never seen him in anything as fancy as Mr. Ross’s work clothes, and she was starting to wonder if he’d look the same or different in more formal attire.

  “I see you’ve got on your summer sandals again,” she teased.

  “Yep.” He looked down at his feet. “Even though I’ve been wearing flip-flops for the last three weeks, my feet are still pasty white. I’m working on my tan.”

  She grinned. “Maybe you should bring your computer outside so your toes can get some sun.”

  “I would if I thought I’d get anything done.” Shrugging, he said, “Looks like I’m not the only person on Plum Street trying to get tan toes. You’ve got your tennis shoes off today.”

  Before she realized what she was doing, she scrunched her toes on the warm quilt. “I couldn’t help myself.”

  “That’s good. You need to enjoy today, Hannah. Why, tomorrow, it could be sleeting or something.”

  Rob always said things like that. He seemed to enjoy living in the moment as much as she was starting to. “I thought the same thing. After Christopher ate his snack, we came out here to look at books. Before long, he fell asleep.” Belatedly, she realized that not only had she been sunning her feet, but she’d hiked the skirt of her dress up to her knees. Feeling her cheeks heat, she pulled the hem of her skirt down.

  “Don’t do that on my account. Believe it or not, I’ve seen girls’ calves before.” His voice was lighthearted and kind. Gently teasing.

  Because she felt so comfortable, she spoke without thinking. “I bet you’ve seen more than that.”

  To her amusement, he looked embarrassed. “Maybe.”

  “Sorry. I spoke out of turn.”

  “No reason to apologize,” he said as he stretched out by her side. “My life is an open book.”

  “Uh-oh. You better look out. Before you know it, I’ll be discovering all sorts of things about your secret past.”

  He chuckled. “It’s not so secret. You know I moved here from Chicago.”

  “Jah, but that doesn’t tell me much. After all, Chicago is a big city.”

  “It is,” he said agreeably. “Feel free to ask me anything you like.”

  “All right. Well, I know that you are from Chicago and that you have no family here.”

  He raised a brow. “What else do you need to know?”

  “I am wondering why you decided to settle in Charm. Can you tell me about that?”

  For once, his dark eyes were shadowed. “I, uh, had a girlfriend. We were serious. She was killed in an accident.”

  Well, now she felt worse than bad. She should have kept her questions to herself. “I’m so sorry,” she said quietly.

  “Me, too,” he said, matching her tone. “Anyway, after a time, I realized that I needed a change of scenery. When my older sister, who enjoys staying in country bed-and-breakfasts, told me about Holmes County and how peaceful it was out here, I decided to come out here for a weekend.”

  Hannah tried to imagine what a city man like Rob had thought of Charm the first time he’d seen it. “And did you find it peaceful?”

  “I did. The first night I was here, I slept through the whole night. I hadn’t done that in months.” He leaned back on his hands and crossed his ankles. “Next thing I knew, I was putting an offer on a house.” Turning to face her, he said, “So that, Hannah, is how I ended up on Plum Street.”

  She felt both stunned and embarrassed. Here she had been, thankful that she didn’t have to face any prying questions, and she’d just done that very thing to him. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “You didn’t pry. We’re getting to know each other. That’s what friends do.”

  They were friends. She was spending more time with him lately than she had with many of her Amish girlfriends. Maybe it was time to share a little bit of herself, too. “I also lost someone close to me. A boyfriend.”

  Though it was obvious he was trying to appear relaxed, she noticed his body tense. “By lost, do you mean broke up?”

  “Nee. I mean, no. I mean, he died.” Taking a fortifying breath, she forced herself to be completely honest. “Paul died in that lumber mill fire about four months ago. Did you hear of it?”

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I haven’t been talking to too many people. Basically, I work on my computer all day, walk Rose, and talk about the weather with the neighbors—if I talk to them at all.” Staring at her intently, he said, “So, what happened? I mean, if you want to talk about it, I’d like to hear.”

  She didn’t want to talk about it but she didn’t want to be rude. Hannah also supposed she needed to talk about the fire more if she was ever going to put all the pain from the incident behind her.

  Reminding herself that Paul was in Heaven and no amount of talking was going to make her miss him any more or less, she began slowly. “In mid-December, a fire broke out in one of the back warehouses at Kinsinger Lumber Mill. A rag saturated with wood stain caught on fire inside a Dumpster. I guess there was some metal inside that had been heated, as well as a large amount of scrap wood, which acted as kindling. The Dumpster exploded and set the warehouse on fire. Five men died.”

  “That’s incredible.” Rob looked stunned. “I didn’t know such things could happen.”

  “They usually don’t, but lumber mills can be dangerous places, I guess.” She swallowed, both hating and feeling proud that she was able to speak so knowledgeably about the accident that had claimed Paul’s life. This, she thought, was a sign of how much she’d healed.

  “Did they catch who started it?”

  “He died. But it was an accident.” She swallowed. “As best anyone can figure, a whole lot of factors came together, which didn’t usually happen. No one knows why.”

  “I’m really sorry, Hannah. You’re so yo
ung. That had to be hard on you.”

  Did her age really matter? Thinking about the Kinsinger family, about Darla and her little sister Maisie . . . Hannah knew none of their ages made death easier to handle or harder to bear.

  Unable to look at Rob, she struggled to keep her voice calm and steady. For some reason she needed to be able to discuss Paul’s death without breaking down. “The police and firemen said the men didn’t suffer too much.”

  “I heard the same thing about Julia.” He lifted his head. “Does that make you feel better?”

  “Not especially. I, um, canna seem to ignore the ‘too much’ part.”

  “Me, neither.” He stared ahead at nothing, his mouth set in a firm line. “Do you . . . Have you ever wished to get away and change cities, too?”

  “Nee. Charm is my home. But, well, I have recently realized that I’ve changed my life, too. I took this job just a month after Paul passed away. Now, instead of being at home, I spend most of my time here in the Rosses’ house. Melissa and York are nice. And, well, I think I needed to be around little Christopher here. He keeps me busy and doesn’t ask questions.”

  He chuckled. “I bet he doesn’t. Though now that he’s rolling over, he seems determined to wear everyone around him out.”

  “Especially me.”

  “Maybe not especially you,” he said quietly. “I’m beginning to think that maybe you are invincible.”

  His praise made her feel good but it was unwarranted. “Never that. I’m simply coping. Lately I have realized that I’ve put a lot of distance between me and my old circle of friends. I needed to start over fresh. I don’t know if that is good or not.”

  After eyeing her closely, he shrugged. “Hannah, maybe it doesn’t matter if what you are doing is good or bad.”

  “You don’t think?” That sounded too easy.

  “This is just me, but maybe all that matters is that being here helps you heal and cope.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe so.” As she looked at Rob sitting next to her, his face a little scruffy from the beard he never completely shaved, the frayed hem of his shorts, his pale feet, Hannah realized that she had, indeed, learned to cope. “God is good,” she said.