An Amish Reunion

by Jo Ann Brown

  “Hannah, will you try to convince her?” Audrey asked.

  Knowing it was unlikely the toddler would heed anything she said or did, Hannah stepped forward. Shelby let out a frustrated howl and sat on the step.

  “Can I try?” Daniel asked.

  Audrey glanced at Hannah, who nodded. If Shelby would cooperate with Daniel, they couldn’t leave him out of the sessions. Even knowing that didn’t make it easy for her to move aside.

  “Let’s go, Shelby,” he said, copying Audrey’s motions. “It’s fun, ain’t so?”

  The little girl giggled and gave him a big grin before going up and down with him. When Audrey asked her to go up and down two steps, Shelby seemed eager to prove she could.

  Hannah choked back her dismay. Shelby preferred anyone else to her sister. Was Wanda right? Was Shelby pushing Hannah away because of the resemblance to their daed? It seemed weird the toddler would avoid the one person connected to her and her parents.

  Or...? Hannah didn’t want to let the thought form in her head. Daed had been a gentle man, but he’d been changed by his wife’s death. She’d assumed he was the same loving person he’d been with her at Shelby’s age. Maybe he wasn’t.

  She looked away from where Daniel and Shelby were traversing three steps at a time. Her distress at her unwanted thoughts vanished when she saw the chair where Grossmammi Ella had been sitting was empty. Where had she gone?

  Dread sank through her. Wandering was another aspect of her great-grandmother’s disease. How was Hannah going to watch both her and Shelby’s sessions at once?

  For the first time, she thought of Daniel’s offer of having Shelby live with his family. His mamm was kind and capable, having already raised nine kinder. Shelby would have a gut home where Hannah could visit her, and Grossmammi Ella would be easier to keep track of when she had all of Hannah’s attention. And Daniel wouldn’t be coming to her house every day, looking so easy on the eyes and being so nice her resolve to avoid him was melting away.

  Letting him take Shelby would be the smart thing to do, but Hannah knew she’d never say the words and end up depending on him. Not again.

  “I’ll be right back,” she said, rushing from the front hall.

  * * *

  Daniel stared after Hannah in disbelief. She was leaving right in the middle of Shelby’s therapy?

  Audrey continued watching the toddler on the stairs, but Daniel saw her glance in the direction Hannah had gone. Torn between going after Hannah and helping Shelby, he heard Hannah call out her great-grandmother’s name just before the back door slammed shut.

  Suddenly, like a clap of thunder, he realized what was going on. The chair where the old woman had been sitting was empty. Where was Grossmammi Ella? He’d been so focused on Shelby he hadn’t noticed the elderly woman leaving.

  When Audrey led Shelby into the living room, the therapist sat on the floor and began to stack blocks, motioning for Shelby to do the same.

  “Will you be helping with Shelby’s therapy?” Audrey asked into the silence, and Daniel guessed, though she kept her expression neutral, she was as shocked by Hannah’s sudden disappearance as he’d been.

  “Ja. At least, I hope so. Shelby likes when I play with her, and a lot of what you’re doing looks like a game.”

  The physical therapist smiled. “We try to make it feel like that for little ones, so they’re more willing to participate. I wish we could find a way to make it fun for adults, too, but they see right through our wiles.”

  He tried to concentrate on what the therapist was doing so he could repeat the exercises with the toddler, but he couldn’t halt himself from glancing again and again toward the kitchen. When the back door opened, he buried his impulse to jump up and help Hannah guide her great-grandmother in.

  Shelby shouted with excitement when her tower of blocks tumbled, but Hannah said nothing as her great-grandmother shuffled into her bedroom. When the door closed behind Grossmammi Ella, a long sigh drifted from Hannah. She walked toward them.

  “I’m sorry I had to leave. Everything’s fine,” Hannah said with a strained laugh. “I wanted to make sure my great-grandmother had a warm coat while she was outside. But she decided to come in, so all’s well.”

  A dozen questions demanded answers, but Daniel didn’t ask a single one. Audrey might believe Hannah’s excuse. He didn’t. Her great-grandmother shouldn’t have been out in the rain in the first place.

  After the therapist showed Hannah the exercise she was doing with Shelby and the blocks, Audrey stood and smiled. “That’s enough for today. I don’t want to tire her out on our first day. I’ll fill out my portion of the paperwork for her IEP. When Keely and Todd have done their sections, we’ll submit it for review. Once it’s complete, we’ll put together a schedule that works for you and Shelby. We don’t want to overwhelm you. We hope this little sweetheart will continue to cooperate with the exercises we give her.”

  “Danki,” Hannah said. “If you need anything, let me know.”

  “I will. Leaving a message on your neighbor’s phone is okay?”

  “Ja. They’ll let me know, and I’ll contact you.”

  Slinging her bag over her shoulder, the therapist bid them and Shelby goodbye. The door closed behind her, and Daniel waited until the sound of her footsteps vanished off the porch.

  “Is your great-grandmother all right?” he asked.

  Hannah nodded, but she didn’t meet his worried gaze. Did she think she could hide her agitation from him? Again he discovered he’d misjudged her reaction when she sat on the sofa and clasped her hands.

  “Are you all right?” he asked as he sat beside her.

  “A bit overwhelmed.” She raised her eyes, and he saw she was being honest. “I’m not sure how I’m going to help Shelby with her exercises when she wants nothing to do with me.”

  “You’ll figure out something. You always do. I admire that about you, Hannah. You don’t hesitate to run in where angels fear to tread.”

  “Something that’s foolish to do.”

  “Not foolish. Caring and courageous.”

  Astonishment softened her face, and he wondered when someone had last offered her a compliment. The Amish weren’t supposed to praise one another, but it happened far more often than anyone was willing to admit. Had anyone told Hannah how pretty she was since he had...three years ago? Had anyone told her how wunderbaar she was since he had...three years ago? Had anyone told her how special she was? He hadn’t, not even three years ago. He’d accepted the gift of her loving heart though he wasn’t willing to offer his in return.

  “I’m doing what I need to do,” she said, lowering her eyes again.

  His hand was cupping her chin, bringing her gaze to his, before he had a chance to think. “I know, but you’re special, Hannah.”

  “You’d do the same as I am.”

  “I’d like to think I would, but I’m not so sure. I hope I don’t have to find out.”

  “I hope you don’t either.” She shifted her head from his grip. “You’re right.”

  “Me? Right? I never thought I’d hear Hannah Lambright say that.”

  Her eyes began to shine with mischief, something he’d seen too seldom since he’d found her little sister on the porch. “I’d have admitted you were right before if you’d ever been right.”

  He laughed, but the sound faded when Shelby walked over to them, carrying Buzz-buzz. The little girl glanced from her sister to him as if trying to figure something out. Without a word, she held up the stuffed bee. Not to him, but to Hannah. She looked at her older sister and grinned.

  Tears glistened in Hannah’s eyes, and Daniel found himself smiling so broadly it hurt. For the first time, the little girl was reaching out to Hannah.

  Hannah took the toy and rubbed it against her cheek before doing the same to
Shelby’s. The little girl giggled.

  “Try playing peekaboo with her,” he suggested.

  “That’s your game.”

  He understood what she didn’t say. Hannah wanted to have something special only she and her little sister shared. When the kind took the knitted toy, she held it to her face before dropping it on Hannah’s apron. Shelby ran across the room to the bookshelf. Plucking a book off it, she rushed back to the sofa and set it beside the toy on Hannah’s knees.

  Hannah drew in a quick breath.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Nothing’s wrong.” She picked up the book and smiled at the little girl, tears of joy hanging on her lashes. “It’s the book I’ve been reading to her. The one about bees. Would you like me to read it to you, Shelby?”

  The kind nodded so hard her golden hair bounced around her. When she opened her arms and raised them toward Hannah, Daniel felt his own eyes sting with unexpected tears. He’d prayed for this moment when Shelby would realize the person who cared most about her in the whole world was her sister.

  As Hannah lifted the toddler onto her lap and opened the book while Shelby cuddled Buzz-buzz, he stood and went to the door. He said goodbye, but neither looked toward him as they shared the story. Hannah made Shelby giggle while acting out the story with the stuffed toy. He was witnessing a family coming together, a family that didn’t include him.

  Three years ago, he’d made his choice to focus on building a business instead of a family. Maybe Hannah was right about him being wrong up until now, but he didn’t know how to get off the path he was on when he was so close to making his dream come true. But he was beginning to see the cost of that decision. It was higher than he’d imagined.

  Chapter Nine

  “Today is moving day, ain’t so?” Daniel asked as he walked into the backyard at the Lambright house the following week. He’d stopped by only occasionally since Shelby began trusting Hannah.

  Each time he visited, he’d helped Shelby with her therapy, though the little girl wanted her sister to assist her on everything but the stairs. The exercise seemed as special to the little girl as the games of peekaboo she played with him.

  That was the way it was supposed to be, but he realized how much he missed being necessary to their little family. He wondered how much longer he’d have an excuse to drop by because Hannah and Shelby now were comfortable with each other. Hannah had fulfilled her side of the bargain, too, by moving the bees.

  Hannah motioned him to stay away from the two white hives. A spot was cleared to one side for the new hive. Two-by-fours were balanced on wooden legs. One side had longer legs so anything placed on the boards would be level in spite of the hill’s slope.

  She looked lovely in a green dress beneath her black apron. Her beekeeper’s hat was in her left hand. Her kapp was askew with one pin hanging out at an odd angle, and strands of her honey-gold hair fluttered around her face. Were her lips as sweet as honey? He’d often wondered when he couldn’t get Hannah out of his mind and wanted her in his arms again, but kissing her three years ago when he had no intention of offering her marriage would have been all kinds of wrong.

  The hushed hum of the bees’ wings created an undertone for songs sung by robins somewhere nearby. He drew in a deep breath, almost disappointed when he didn’t smell the rich greenness of a fresh-cut hayfield. The sounds were of spring, of days when the sunshine grew warm and kinder tossed aside their shoes to curl their toes in the soft, new grass. As he and Hannah had one day near the pond on his family’s farm. They’d walked together and skipped stones across the still waters. That day, he’d nearly thrown aside his plans for the future and pulled her to him and kissed her.

  “How are the bees doing?” he asked, pushing aside his thoughts.

  “So far, they’re doing well. It’ll change when I bring the other hive up here. They’ll be distressed because their hive is close to a strange one.” She gave him a wry smile, and he was grateful she didn’t sense the course of his thoughts. “You’re either brave or foolish to come out here without checking first.”

  “I did check. Your great-grandmother was eager to tell me where you were.” He arched a single brow as he thought of how excited Grossmammi Ella had been, believing he’d come to the house to court her great-granddaughter. He kept the conversation to himself as he did his yearning to hold Hannah close and explore her lips. Stop thinking of that! It was easier said than done, so he asked, “Where’s Shelby?”

  “She’s napping. She didn’t sleep well last night. She’s fussy all day, but her teething pain seems worse at night. Maybe her face hurts more when she’s lying down. I rubbed honey on her gums along with a teething gel your brother Amos recommended. The combination helped, and she was asleep before I put her in the crib.”

  He saw Hannah’s exhaustion, but it didn’t steal the delicate prettiness that had drawn his eyes to her from the first time he’d seen her. That sunny summer afternoon, he’d been hanging out and jesting with his twin brother...as usual. He and Micah had been having some sort of contest to see which one of them was faster or smarter or whatever...as usual. They’d been with friends who’d been talked into attending the youth gathering by someone’s younger sister...as usual.

  From the corner of his eye as Micah was making a joke, Daniel had seen a blonde girl in a dark blue dress leaping up to hit a volleyball over the net. She’d succeeded and was instantly surrounded by teammates who congratulated her on her gut play. One of the players must have noticed him and his friends approaching. The blonde girl had turned, and his gaze had locked with hers.

  He knew nothing would be as usual again.

  And it hadn’t been. That evening was the first time he’d asked Hannah if he could drive her home. When she’d said ja, he’d wondered if he’d ever been so happy. They’d talked about everything and nothing, getting to know each other and feeling—at least in his case—as if he’d known her his whole life. She’d laughed at his humorous stories, and he’d been fascinated by her sparkling brown eyes. In fact, he’d been immersed in joy until the demanding voice of his determination to be his own boss sounded in his mind after he’d dropped Hannah off and continued home.

  Today wasn’t the first time—nor would it be the last, he was certain—when he wondered what might have happened if he’d ignored the strident voice and instead listened to his heart. He’d tried, asking her again and again to let him take her home, but the dream of owning a construction company refused to be silenced.

  “Poor little tyke,” Daniel said when he realized he’d become mired again in his thoughts of the past. “She must have most of her teeth, ain’t so?”

  “If I counted right, she’s got five more to come in.” She yawned, putting her hand up to her mouth. “Sorry. When Shelby doesn’t sleep, nobody sleeps.” Glancing at her hives shadowed by the barn farther up the hill, she sighed. “I know a lot about taking care of bees. I wish I knew as much about taking care of a toddler.”

  “You didn’t plan to become a mamm now.”

  “No, but God has surprises for us.” She gave him another crooked grin. “Some more than others.”

  “You’re doing a great job, Hannah.”

  For a moment, he thought she might protest or demur, but instead she said, “Danki. I’m trying to make a home for the three of us.”

  “Don’t you want more?” Maybe if she’d talk about her dreams, she could understand his and why he’d done what he had. Maybe then she’d forgive him...and he’d be able to forgive himself.

  “I’m not sure I can handle more, Daniel.” She ran her fingers along the mesh on the front of her mask. “Sometimes being surrounded by peace and quiet so I can be in the moment is the most wunderbaar thing I can imagine.”

  “Do you mean like in Psalm 46? ‘Be still, and know that I am God.’”

  “Ja. I try to
surrender up the problems of the day because God knows how to resolve them better than I do.”

  Her faith wasn’t gentle as he’d once thought, but a fierce force propelling her through the challenges of her life. He wished he could be as willing to hand his problems to the Lord. He wanted to, but his impatience got in the way, and he believed he had to move his dreams forward himself. Mamm had hinted more than once he should let life unfold as it was meant to in God’s plan instead of Daniel trying to make it happen as he wanted it to.

  “So what can I do for you, Daniel?” Hannah asked.

  “Can’t I stop by to see how moving the bees is going?”

  “Can you?”

  He chuckled. “I guess not. I came to ask a favor. I promise you, if you agree, it won’t cost you any more sleep.”

  “Not losing more sleep sounds lovely. What’s the favor?”

  “Until today, I don’t remember the last time we had a rain-free day.” He glanced at the clouds building over the western hills. “And it doesn’t look as if it’s going to change any time soon. I was wondering if I could put my horse in your barn on rainy days while I’m working on the bridge.”

  Her eyes widened, and he couldn’t help wondering what she’d thought he intended to ask. Maybe it was better he didn’t know.

  “Of course,” she replied. “There’s no reason for the poor creature to stand out in the rain. What about the rest of your crew’s horses?”

  “Two of the men working with us are Englischers, and one gives the Amish men on the crew a ride every morning in his truck. Taffy is the only horse at the bridge most of the time.”

  With a smile, she wagged a finger at him as if he were no older than Shelby. “Make sure you close the barn door. Since it’s been raining every day, I’ve kept the chickens and our two cows in the barn, and I don’t want them to wander away.”