An Amish Reunion

by Jo Ann Brown

  “I do.”

  “Does she always know who you are?”

  Instead of answering, because she didn’t want to raise his suspicions further given that her great-grandmother was barely holding on to her mind, she said, “Like you said, we need to move the buggy before it settles farther into the mud.”

  “Avoiding my questions isn’t going to change anything, Hannah.”

  “Can’t we discuss this some other time? I want to get my great-grandmother and my little sister home before it starts raining again.”

  “All right.” His reluctance laced through the two words. As he walked with her around the buggy to the driver’s side, he glanced over at the old stone mill which had lost its roof in a long-forgotten storm. “What does Grossmammi Ella find so interesting about the mill?”

  “I don’t have any idea, and she won’t tell me.” She shuddered. “I wish I knew, because maybe I could convince her not to come out here. It’s dangerous with the slippery banks around the mill pond. The old dam should have washed out long ago.”

  He nodded as he opened the buggy door. “When I was over at Jake Botti’s office, he talked about other projects that need to be done in the county. The dam is high on the list of priority repairs, but I don’t know when the county supervisors plan to get to it. Look how bad the bridge had to get before they decided to fix it.” He motioned for her to climb in. “I wasn’t joking. You’d better get the buggy moving before it’s stuck here until the road dries out.”

  Hannah didn’t hesitate. Getting in, she left the door open as she slapped the reins on Thunder’s back and gave him the order to start. He pulled, but the buggy didn’t move. Straining again, he tried to walk forward. She halted him, not wanting the horse to hurt himself. She frowned when she felt the wheels drop more deeply into the thick mud.

  “You’re definitely stuck.” Daniel put one foot on the buggy’s step. “I hate to ask this, but you need to get out.”

  He was right. She was so frustrated she wanted to cry. Now she had to persuade Grossmammi Ella to get out.

  Again Daniel succeeded where she couldn’t. Hannah held Shelby close as he talked the old woman into stepping down. When she stood beside Hannah, he went to Thunder. He gripped the reins and spoke to the horse.

  Thunder shook his mane as if agreeing with whatever Daniel said, then stepped forward. One step. A second one. The mud released the buggy’s wheels with a sucking sound. Once the wheels emerged from the mud, Thunder moved quickly a few more paces. It was as if the black horse knew how important it was not to let the buggy wheels get bogged again.

  “Let’s go!” Daniel waved for them to get into the buggy before it sank into the mire again.

  Hannah got in and held Shelby on her lap as he assisted her great-grandmother. Grossmammi Ella stared at Thunder as if the horse was the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen. Daniel grabbed the reins and gave the horse the command to go.

  The drive to the house would have been silent except for Shelby’s “talking.” She kept patting Daniel’s arm, and Hannah realized the little girl had missed him.

  As Hannah had.

  What’s wrong with me? He acts outrageously, so I should be glad he’s not at the house every day. But her days had seemed emptier and longer and flavorless since he’d stormed off after helping her move the bees.

  At the house, Hannah helped her great-grandmother inside while Daniel unhitched the horse and put him in the barn. Grossmammi Ella sat in her favorite chair as if nothing had happened. Shelby toddled to the box of toys in a corner of the kitchen. Sitting on the floor, she took Buzz-buzz out and hugged the stuffed bee.

  Everything was as it should be, but Hannah’s nerves were on edge. She wrapped her arms around herself when she heard the back door open and Daniel enter. Going into the kitchen, she thanked him for helping with her great-grandmother.

  “I’m here every workday, Hannah.” He was as serious and appeared as uncomfortable as she did. “My buggy is here, and, if you let me know when she’s gone roaming again, I can go and bring her back faster than you can get Shelby and give chase.”

  “I can’t ask you to do that. You’ve got your job to do.”

  “The foreman has the right to a kaffi break each day.”

  “It’s supposed to be your time to relax so you can finish the rest of the day’s work. It’s not your time to be running off after my great-grandmother.”

  He folded his arms over his chest, drawing her gaze to its breadth. She looked away because she didn’t want to be distracted by that enticing sight. It brought reminders of her cheek resting against the spot where his chest and shoulder met.

  “You make it sound,” he said in a taut voice, “as if you sit around doing nothing. I know as the weather gets warmer, you’ll be busier with your bees as well as other chores. I may not have time to go after your great-grandmother, but neither do you.”

  “But she’s my responsibility.”

  “If you don’t want my help...” His words trailed away.

  She knew what she should say. Of course, I’d appreciate your help. That was what plain folk did for each other. They lent a helping hand so nobody’s burden was too great. The silence stretched between them, becoming almost painful, as she sought the right words to say.

  Again she didn’t have a chance because he reached for the knob on the door. “I thought we could be friends.”

  “I thought so, too.” Why were words failing her? Maybe because she couldn’t say what she wanted to. She shouldn’t speak of how, after breaking her heart, he’d started to help it heal. That would reveal too much. He’d think she was crazy when he’d made it clear—over and over—his dreams of the future didn’t include her. “Maybe it’s impossible for us to be friends, Daniel.”

  His brows rose, and she knew her blunt words had shocked him. But to tiptoe around the truth would only hurt them again. She couldn’t risk that.

  Twisting the knob, he yanked the door open. “Well, if you need me, Hannah, you know where I am.”

  Then he was gone again, and she was left there by herself...again.

  Chapter Eleven

  From where he stood by the covered bridge, Daniel recognized the small red car heading away from Hannah’s house. It belonged to Todd Howland, the speech therapist who came twice a week to work with Shelby. Unlike with physical therapy and occupational therapy, there weren’t exercises Daniel could help with, so there was no need for him to go to the house.

  Even if he was sure Hannah wouldn’t slam the door in his face.

  Why had he made such a muddle of everything with her? She’d agreed to be his friend, and he should be glad she had. Instead, he seemed to be doing everything he could to irritate her.

  Why?

  It didn’t make sense, especially when he’d been enjoying time with her and Shelby. So why had he said things he knew would upset her?

  He pulled his gaze from the car as it turned a corner and disappeared from sight. All last night, rain had poured through the openings in the bridge roof that had been made wider by the storm’s strong winds. Tomorrow morning, sheets of plywood were being delivered from the lumberyard. He’d hoped they could get the boards to him today, but it’d been impossible. Once the wood arrived, he and his crew would get up on the rotting roof and tack on the sheets to stop the leaks until they had time to replace the shingles. It was beyond the scope of the job he’d been hired to do, but he hoped the project still could be done on time. That was important, so he could use Jake Botti as a reference for a couple of other jobs he wanted to bid on.

  Before he could think of fixing the whole roof, however, more of the bridge’s deck must be finished. There wasn’t any place to put a ladder now with the whole deck removed.

  Crossing his arms, he sighed. Nothing had gone as he’d planned. The weather refused
to cooperate, and it seemed for every day they managed to work, two were lost to rain. As soon as the first half dozen boards were back in place on the deck, the saw used to cut the planks could be set up out of the rain.

  No rain tomorrow, Lord. He almost laughed at his prayer. No doubt the farmers in the county were praying the rain returned to water the seeds they sowed today.

  Or were they able to get out in their wet fields to work? He looked at the swollen creek. Like others near Paradise Springs, it was running too fast, too high, and was the color of kaffi with too much milk.

  He wasn’t going to get any more work done today. He might as well spend the time finishing the baseboard molding at his house. He was astonished to realize he hadn’t gone to the house in over a week. Longer, because the last time he’d spent time there was before he’d helped Hannah move her bees. He needed to get back to it because his twin brother had mentioned a youth gathering tonight, and how he planned to ask a special girl if he could take her home.

  A prickle of envy spurred Daniel off the bridge. His brother’s relationship with Katie Kay, nebulous as it might be, was simpler than his with Hannah. After three years of convincing himself he’d done the right thing by not getting serious with her, he was the one having trouble being just friends. His thoughts kept urging him to draw her into his arms.

  “Your dream is to have your own company,” he chided himself as he walked to the Lambrights’ barn where he stabled Taffy every day.

  Stuffing his hands in his coat pockets, he felt the crackle of the piece of paper he’d shoved in there before he left home. Mamm had given him a message for Hannah and her great-grandmother. She’d written it down because she’d said she didn’t want him to forget the details while his mind was on boards and nails for the covered bridge. That is what she’d said, but her laughter-filled eyes suggested she thought he’d lose every thought in his head the moment he spoke to Hannah.

  If Hannah was surprised to see him at her front door, she gave no sign. Daniel couldn’t guess if she was pleased or annoyed he’d come to the house. She wiped her hands on a dish towel as she stepped aside to let him in. Past her, he saw her little sister and her great-grandmother looking at a cloth book together in the kitchen.

  For the first time, Shelby hadn’t come running to him. That startled him and made him sad. It was for the best, he told himself, that Shelby was feeling comfortable with her family. Still, he missed her enthusiastic greetings and her contralto laughter.

  The aroma of chocolate swept over him, and he wondered if Hannah was baking that special chocolate chip cake she’d brought to youth events while they’d walked out together. The rich cake with its peanut butter icing had been a favorite with the young people, and Hannah had made sure she saved an extra piece for him to enjoy on the way home. She’d made a whole chocolate chip cake for him for his twenty-second birthday that year.

  The week before he turned his back on her.

  Shame rushed through him, but how could he ask for her forgiveness when he’d told everyone—including himself—over and over that the past was in the past and they needed to focus on the future?

  Pride, warned his conscience. He was being prideful.

  “I came by,” he said, ignoring his conscience, “because Mamm asked me to invite you and Grossmammi Ella to a quilting frolic the day after tomorrow at our place. She says she remembers your great-grandmother used to be one of the finest quilters in the county.”

  “Tell her danki, but I doubt we’ll be able to go.” She kept wiping her hands on the towel, and he knew she was nervous and wanted the conversation over.

  He frowned. “You don’t have to turn down the invitation because of how you feel about me. Mamm is asking you.”

  “I realize that.”

  “So go if you want to.”

  “Go where?” asked Grossmammi Ella as she came into the living room. Her eyes lit up.

  Did she see him today as Daniel Stoltzfus or as her late husband?

  He got his answer when the elderly woman went on, “Daniel, have you come to ask our Hannah to walk out with you?”

  “No, Grossmammi Ella. Mamm wanted me to stop by with an invitation for you and Hannah to come to a quilt frolic at our house the day after tomorrow.”

  “A quilt frolic?”

  For a moment, Daniel thought the old woman wasn’t sure what he meant, that she’d forgotten how, when the Amish gathered to work together, they called it a frolic. He sought the right words to explain without insulting her.

  Before he could, Grossmammi Ella turned to Hannah. “Do you know where my sewing box is?”

  “Ja,” she answered. “Do you want me to get it?”

  “Not now, but I’ll need it for the frolic. And my reading glasses? Do you know where they are?”

  Hannah looked as stunned as if someone had announced Amish women were expected to drive bright red Ferraris. She gulped before replying, “Ja. I know where they are. On the table by your bed, but we aren’t going—”

  “Of course, we’re going.” Grossmammi Ella’s brows lowered. “I thought I’d taught you better, Hannah! When a neighbor announces a frolic, it’s our chance to offer assistance to them. And we’ll learn the latest news in the district.”

  “It’s not today,” Hannah said when her great-grandmother paused to take a breath. “That’s what I was going to say.”

  “Well, you should have said it then.” The old woman walked from the living room, her head held high.

  Daniel put his hand over his mouth to hide his smile. He was glad he did because Grossmammi Ella paused and turned to him.

  “What are you waiting for?” the old woman asked.

  “Me?” He glanced at Hannah and saw she was as puzzled as he was.

  “Ja. You! Are all young men as dense as you are? They weren’t when I was a girl. They could see it’s a nice day, just right for taking a young woman for a walk. So why aren’t you asking our Hannah to go for a walk? She’s a kind young woman who takes gut care of her old great-grandmother. What more could you ask for than our Hannah’s company on this pretty day the gut Lord has made, Daniel Stoltzfus?”

  He wasn’t sure which question to answer first, except he knew it wouldn’t be the last one. Without looking at Hannah, he knew her cheeks had become the adorable pink painted by her strongest emotions.

  “Hannah is busy with her bees.” It was a lame answer, but it was the best he could manage.

  Grossmammi Ella wrinkled her nose. “The bees can take care of themselves for an hour, and so can I. You should take our Hannah out in the sunshine and enjoy the day. So what are you waiting for?”

  * * *

  Hannah wished she could blame Grossmammi Ella’s questions on dementia, but it was clear the elderly woman knew where and when she was and what she was asking. Poor Daniel! He hadn’t anticipated any matchmaking when he came to deliver his mamm’s invitation. Hannah was still irritated with him, but she had to pity him when he confronted her great-grandmother.

  “Grossmammi Ella,” she said, “I can’t go for a walk. I need to watch Shelby.”

  A frustrated yelp came from the kitchen. Whirling, Hannah stared at little Shelby trying to get her hair unstuck from her fingers. Strands clung to her cheeks. The front of her pinafore was covered with globs of honey.

  “Like you’ve been doing now?” Her great-grandmother sniffed. “Take the boppli with you. She could use some sunshine, too. I don’t know what’s going on with youngsters nowadays. In my day, we enjoyed a spring stroll.”

  The old woman walked away, going into her bedroom and shutting the door so neither Hannah nor Daniel had a chance to reply.

  Hannah looked at Daniel’s shocked expression and burst into laughter. She clamped her hands over her mouth to keep her great-grandmother from hearing, but her shoulders shook with mirth. Soon Da
niel was trying to restrain himself, too.

  Deciding the best way to stop laughing was to do something, Hannah went to where Shelby sat. The little girl had pulled herself up onto the chair before digging into the bottle of honey, spreading it everywhere.

  Daniel stepped past her and picked up the kind. He held her out straight-armed, so her sticky clothes and fingers couldn’t reach him. “Time for a bath, my girl.”

  Hannah hurried ahead of them into the bathroom and began to run water into the tub. As she got a washcloth and soap, Daniel undressed her little sister. He asked where Hannah wanted the honey-coated clothes, and she pointed to a bucket near the door.

  “My mop bucket will do,” she said.

  Lifting Shelby high in the air, Daniel set her in the water and began washing the sticky streaks off her hands and arms. Hannah sat on her heels and watched. So much had changed since the first time she and Daniel had put the kind in the tub. Shelby didn’t cringe away when Hannah touched her. Maybe it was because Hannah felt confident around the little girl. She no longer feared she would do something wrong and hurt the toddler.

  However, one thing—one important thing—hadn’t changed. Shelby adored Daniel. She babbled her version of his name as he shampooed her hair. Slapping her hands in the water, she giggled when Daniel pretended to be horrified to get wet.

  Her lingering anger faded as Hannah watched them. She couldn’t act as if Daniel was a horrible person who thought only of himself. For too long, she’d focused on a single selfish act and refused to think about the gut things he’d done. She’d been as self-centered as she’d accused him of being.

  But if she didn’t have her anger as a bulwark against him, how could she protect her heart from being hurt again? There must be a way. Dearest Lord, help me discover it, so I no longer harbor this animosity within me. I don’t want to tote around this burden any longer.

  Hannah toweled off the clean kind and then re-dressed her. Brushing out Shelby’s soft, golden hair, she braided it.

  “Ready?” asked Daniel as she folded the damp towel over the side of the tub.