by Jo Ann Brown
“I know better than to leave the door open. Just imagine how my big brother Ezra would react. He’d have my hide if I let his prize Brown Swiss cows out.” He chuckled. “He watches over them as closely as you do Shelby.”
When she laughed, he let the lyrical sound wash over him like a cleansing wave. It swept away the debris left after the decisions he’d made. The dubiousness as he second-guessed himself, the regrets at his mistakes and the invisible scars of hurtful words. Ones he’d spoken and ones spoken to him. Both had been unintentional, but the wound endured nonetheless. And then there was how he’d treated Hannah...
Suddenly he wanted to follow his own advice and leave the past in the past. The best way to do that was to be in the present and look to the future.
“How can I help with moving your bees?”
“I have to do this slowly. If you’ve got to get to the bridge—”
“We’re waiting on an inspection from the county before we can continue. It won’t be until tomorrow morning. I sent the other men home. We’ve got some long days ahead of us to meet our schedule, so they’re glad to have a couple hours off this afternoon.”
She frowned. “Don’t you want to take the afternoon off, too?”
“I am. I’m not working on the bridge. I’m here to help you.” He hesitated, then added, “If you can use my help.”
His heart threatened to stop beating as he held his breath, waiting for her answer. She had every right to tell him to get lost. Again, he wished he could find the right words to apologize after three years and ask her forgiveness for being a dummkopf because he’d been afraid to be honest with her.
“Danki, Daniel,” she said again. “I could use your help. Shelby won’t nap long, I’m sure. I’d like to have this done before she wakes up.”
While they walked to the bulkhead, he listened as she outlined what they needed to do. She’d carry a pair of supers to the platform she’d built and set them in place.
“I’ll take them out through the bulkhead,” she said, “so there’s less chance of them escaping into the house.”
“So what can I do?”
“Hold the bulkhead door open. I don’t want it to fall when I’m coming up. It wouldn’t be gut for the bees.”
“Or for you either.” He ran his finger along the thick slab. “This door is heavy. Having it fall on your head would be something you’d notice.”
“Even with my hard head?”
He laughed. “I don’t know about your head, but even my hard head would notice a door crashing on it.”
When she giggled, sounding as young and carefree as her little sister, he wanted to capture the sound so he could enjoy it over and over. He’d squandered her musical joy years ago, not realizing how precious it was until her laugh vanished from his life.
He wanted to chastise himself again for being so dumm, but it was useless to keep rehashing the past. He couldn’t change the man he’d been, the man so focused on his ambitions he couldn’t see anything else. So, instead, he helped her remove the quilt and the plywood on top of the supers. Hurrying up the stairs as she donned her veiled hat and plugged the entrances to the supers with some twisted grass, he held on to the heavy door while she brought them into the yard.
She settled the last box filled with honeycomb, the one holding the queen, on top of the other supers. She unplugged the entrances so the bees could fly in and out. Removing her veiled hat again, she smiled. “Having a third hive will mean extra work, but it’ll also mean more honey to sell.”
“You enjoy working with bees, don’t you?”
“I do, and it’s partly because I like being my own boss.” She sat on the steps by the kitchen door.
“I’d like to be my own boss, too.” He sighed and glanced toward the covered bridge. “And if this job goes well, I may be. Finally!”
* * *
Hannah was startled by the wistfulness in Daniel’s voice. She’d never heard him speak with such honest and deep feelings. While they were walking out together, he’d kept her laughing. She couldn’t recall a time when he’d talked about anything important to him or asked her about what mattered to her.
She’d considered him fun to be around and was pleased he’d selected her to take home week after week. Several times, she’d tried to discuss her concerns about how oddly her great-grandmother was acting, but he changed the subject. Only in retrospect had she noticed that. At the time, she’d thought he was trying to tease away her worry. When he’d started flirting with other girls, she’d wondered if she was too serious for someone who loved to laugh as much as he did.
Had she known the real Daniel when they were courting?
That was an unsettling thought. Had Daniel changed, or had she failed to see the real person behind the endless jests?
“I didn’t know you wanted to be your own boss,” she said when she realized he was waiting for her to respond.
“It’s been my goal since I finished school. I’m surprised you’re surprised, Hannah.”
“Why shouldn’t I be surprised? You never mentioned anything about this...before.”
He gave her a wry grin. “When a young man is walking out with a young woman, his attention should be on her. Not his hopes for the future.”
“That’s maybe the dumbest thing you’ve ever said to me, Daniel Stoltzfus.”
“Really?” His eyes widened in astonishment. “The dumbest?”
She laughed in spite of herself. “If not the dumbest, then close. Why would you think I wouldn’t have wanted to know about your hopes and dreams? They’re part of you. Isn’t that what walking out together is for? To get to know someone well enough to decide if you want to spend the rest of your life with him or her?”
“I thought it was a chance to get a girl alone and maybe steal a kiss.”
“You’re a rogue!”
“I was a rogue. I’m not that guy any longer.”
She wasn’t sure how to answer. Now wasn’t the time to speak of the many rumors she’d heard of his numerous girlfriends who, like her, had believed he was serious and then, after being dropped by him, had married someone else. Not everything shared through the Amish grapevine was true.
“You don’t believe me,” he said with a grimace. He walked to the bulkhead and lowered the door.
“I didn’t say that!”
“You didn’t say anything.” He sat beside her on the steps. “Sometimes silence speaks louder than words.”
“And actions speak louder than words, too.” She wished she hadn’t spoken the words as soon as they left her lips.
Beside her, Daniel’s face blanched beneath his deep tan. If she’d meant to wound him, she’d succeeded. That hadn’t been her aim. Or had it been? Had she intended to hurt him as he’d hurt her years ago? She wanted to take back the words, but wasn’t sure how.
Daniel stood and walked away without saying anything else. She got up, too, but didn’t follow. What could she say? That what she said wasn’t true? It was.
You could apologize, her conscience whispered in her mind.
She took a single step to go after him and ask his forgiveness, but paused when the back door opened.
Grossmammi Ella looked out and called, “Saloma, I can hear your Hannah crying upstairs. She needs her mamm with her.”
Hannah was tempted to weep right there as her great-grandmother’s words warned the old woman was lost in time again. She couldn’t leave Grossmammi Ella alone with Shelby. Maybe if Hannah ran upstairs, got her little sister and went after Daniel, she could...
The sound of buggy wheels rolling away into the distance warned her it was too late. She sighed, hoping she’d have a chance to say she was sorry. She didn’t want their friendship to end again before it’d barely begun.
Chapter Ten
Da
niel listened to the rain tapping against the roof of the covered bridge. Was the rain ever going to stop? During the past week, except on the day Hannah had moved her bees, it’d stormed for four days, and it’d been overcast and drizzled the rest. The wind remained as chilly as it’d been a month ago, and the creek beneath the bridge was rising and running faster each day. He’d heard his crew say, half-joking, that they needed to start building an ark.
He was tired of having to rework his schedule around tasks they could accomplish while rain fell. If it sprinkled, he took a chance on running the power tools off the portable generator he’d set on the side of the bridge farther away from the Lambright house. It wasn’t the best location, but the bridge, even stripped of the boards on its deck and side walls, muted the generator’s noise. He didn’t want the racket to intrude on either Shelby’s or Grossmammi Ella’s afternoon rest.
That none of his crew had mentioned the inconvenience of the generator’s position warned him that they’d guessed why he’d made the decision. He wasn’t going to ask why they weren’t curious. He was just grateful they hadn’t questioned him.
He drove the nail into the thick beam which would support the new deck. Working kept him from thinking too much about Hannah and the harsh words she’d thrown at him four days ago. That what she said was true had added to their sting. His actions had spoken louder than his words three years ago, because he hadn’t said a single word.
“There she goes again! I wonder why she’s always in such a hurry when she heads out at this time of day.” Phil Botti leaned back to give himself a better view of the road leading out to the old mill which had given the bridge its name. The young man, the son of Jake Botti, the man who’d asked Daniel to supervise the project, was a hard worker, but distracted by every vehicle passing by.
“Who?” Daniel asked as he calculated the proper angle for the next board he should cut to support the bridge’s right arch. Each one must be the exact length so each portion of the arch could handle its proper share of the weight of the bridge deck as well as the walls and roof.
“Hannah Lambright.”
His head snapped up. What was Hannah doing out on the inclement day? The cold would bother her great-grandmother.
Hearing muffled chuckles, Daniel ignored his crew. Since they’d begun work on the bridge, the Amish men and the Englischers had made several comments loud enough so he couldn’t miss them. Comments about the amount of time he’d spent at the Lambrights’ house and how he had a lighter step when Hannah brought the toddler and her great-grandmother to visit the men working on the bridge. Many of the comments were appreciative of the kaffi she shared along with cookies or biscuits dripping with honey from her hives, but he couldn’t look past the glances his crew shared while their heads bent toward each other.
There was no need for whispers. He knew what they were talking about. They thought he was courting Hannah. If they had any idea how far it was from the truth, maybe they’d stop. But he wouldn’t discuss Hannah with anyone, not even his brothers, though Jeremiah had given him an opening several times since their conversation in Daniel’s almost finished house.
Hannah’s buggy disappeared along the road at her horse’s fastest pace. She was headed upstream along the creek and the dead end near the ruins of the mill that hadn’t been in use since before he was born. Maybe since before his daed had been born.
Why was Hannah going there? The asphalt road changed to gravel and then to dirt less than a half mile beyond the Jones farm. The dirt must have turned into mire after so much rain. She could get stuck out there.
He’d seen her rush away in her buggy at least four times in the last two weeks. It was, he realized, always about three in the afternoon. Right around the time when Hannah’s great-grandmother finished her nap and came out of her bedroom. Each time when Hannah had sped away, the buggy had returned to the house less than fifteen minutes later.
His brows dropped into a frown as he stood. “I’ll be right back.”
He ran after the buggy. It would take too long to hitch his horse, and he wanted answers.
Now.
* * *
She should be used to this nonsense, Hannah told herself, but she couldn’t become accustomed to discovering her great-grandmother had wandered away from the house again without saying where she was going. Not that there was any need. Grossmammi Ella went only two places on her own. Either to the barn where she called for cows that hadn’t been there in a decade, or she headed toward the old mill. Hannah had no idea why her great-grandmother went there, and the elderly woman couldn’t explain.
Grossmammi Ella always acted baffled when they returned to the house, and Hannah wasn’t sure if her great-grandmother knew why she was outside. Each time she became lost in her memories seemed to go on longer. Would her great-grandmother eventually have an episode when she never returned to the present? Hannah didn’t know what she’d do then. Would she have to pretend to be her mamm for the rest of her life?
Beside her on the buggy seat, Shelby played with Buzz-buzz. Oh, how Hannah wished she could be like her little sister, caught up in the joys of being a kind! Sudden tears rushed into her eyes as she realized, if Grossmammi Ella’s past continued to overwhelm her, Shelby might never know their real great-grandmother. That was so sad because unless Daed returned, the little girl wouldn’t have memories of him either.
Was it worse to have someone in your life and lose them, or never to have a single memory of them? Though she tried to halt her thoughts, Daniel appeared in her mind. If she had the choice, would she prefer to have had a crush on him and lost him or to have never known him at all?
She was being preposterous. He’d walked away from her again just a few days ago. Exactly as she’d expected, but it didn’t make the pain of him leaving any easier.
Hannah saw her great-grandmother standing under a tree and looking along the creek that was higher than it’d been the last time they’d come along the road. What was Grossmammi Ella staring at? Nothing was out there but the tumbledown walls of the old mill and the dam built to collect water to make the wheel turn.
Pulling gently on Thunder’s reins, Hannah waited for the black horse to halt. Like Hannah, the horse was growing accustomed to these wild drives.
She jumped out, leaving the door open so she could keep an eye on Shelby, and walked through the rain to where the elderly woman stood. “Grossmammi Ella?”
Hannah repeated her great-grandmother’s name several times before. Grossmammi Ella turned to face her. As her eyes focused, bafflement filled them.
“I think you’ve walked far enough today.” Hannah didn’t let her smile slide away. “Let’s go home. I’ll make tea, and I’ve got your favorite cookies.”
Her great-grandmother didn’t answer. She kept staring at Hannah as if she didn’t recognize her.
“Grossmammi Ella,” she pleaded, “we need to get out of the rain. You’ll catch a cold. You don’t want to get a cold, do you?”
The old woman remained silent.
Hannah wasn’t sure what to do. Touching her great-grandmother when she was lost in the past could bring on her uncontrollable temper. That was how Hannah got struck the day before yesterday. Her ear still hurt from the blow.
But they couldn’t stand out in the rain, getting drenched. Shelby must be getting chilled, too. They needed to go home.
Calling the old woman’s name again was futile. Grossmammi Ella didn’t respond or move.
“Da-dan!” cried Shelby with excitement.
When Hannah saw Daniel coming around the buggy, she was torn between being relieved he’d chased after her and dismay that he was witnessing how out-of-control her life had become. She wasn’t making any progress persuading her great-grandmother to get in the buggy now that it had stopped raining. Maybe he could. She couldn’t allow her frustration to prevent her from accepting hel
p.
Greeting Shelby with a laugh and tickling the little girl who adored him, he turned to Hannah and Grossmammi Ella. “You’re going to get stuck if you let the buggy sit there much longer. The wheels are already sinking into the mud.”
“I know.” Exasperation sharpened Hannah’s voice, and she took a steadying breath to calm herself. Her great-grandmother became unreasonable if Hannah showed aggravation. “We’re leaving.”
Grossmammi Ella startled her by saying, “I’m not going.” Her great-grandmother crossed her arms over her chest and glared at her and Daniel.
Stepping past Hannah, he went to the elderly woman. He was smiling as if none of them had a care in the world. “Grossmammi Ella,” he said in his charming voice that seemed to work with women of every age, “you know it’s time for Hannah to start getting supper ready. What will we do if we don’t have anything to eat after a hard day’s work?”
“We? You’re coming to supper at our house?” The old woman turned to scowl at Hannah. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d invited him?”
“I...” She refused to lie to her great-grandmother, but saying Grossmammi Ella was confused would make the situation worse.
“Oh, I shouldn’t have said anything,” Daniel said with his easy grin. “I guess Hannah wanted it to be a surprise.”
“For all of us.”
“Let me help you into the buggy, Grossmammi Ella.” Before turning to her great-grandmother, Daniel whispered, “I’m sorry, Hannah.”
Shocked at the words she’d come to doubt that she’d ever hear from him, she watched as he assisted the elderly woman to step into the buggy. He made sure she had a blanket over her knees before he closed the door.
When he faced her, Hannah made sure her astonishment was well hidden.
“Danki for convincing her to get into the buggy.”
“I wasn’t sure I could when she knew who I was. It helps when she believes I’m her late husband.” He grimaced. “That sounds pretty lousy, but you know what I mean.”
