by Jo Ann Brown
* * *
Hannah didn’t answer right away. Instead she admired the white house in front of her. It was smaller than the rambling farmhouse where his family lived. However, it was freshly painted, and the setting among the trees was idyllic. A pair of large windows flanked the simple wood door. Upstairs, two more windows were set into identical dormers.
“Whose house is this?” she asked.
“Mine. I’m building it.”
“Why?” She couldn’t ask the next question burning on her tongue. A man usually built a house when he planned to marry. Had she misread everything? Was Daniel planning to marry another woman?
“I want to use it with prospective clients as an example of the work I—and my construction company—can do.”
Relief flooded her. “What a gut idea! Can I see inside?”
“I’d hoped you’d want to.” He grinned like a kid with a new scooter.
Hannah followed him onto the porch. It was wider than hers, wide enough for chairs where someone could sit and listen to the birds singing good-night.
When he opened the door, he gestured for her to go in first. She did and stared about in astonishment. It was a plain house with no extra ornamentation, but that made it easier for her to see the quality of Daniel’s work. Not a single gap showed along the woodwork or the stones on the fireplace. The wood floors glistened and were so smooth they looked like an ice-coated pond.
Daniel set Shelby down, and the toddler headed for the kitchen. Following her, because she wasn’t sure what tools might be out there, Hannah stopped as she saw that room. The cabinets were beautiful, and light poured into the room, making the pale yellow walls glow.
“I added skylights for the kitchen and upstairs bathroom,” Daniel said in a whisper, “because the trees block much of the sunshine early in the morning and during the later afternoon.” He gave her a tentative smile, and she realized he was anxious to know if she liked the house he’d built. “I didn’t want to cut more trees than I had to.”
“I agree,” she said as she watched his shoulders lose their rigid line. “You did this all yourself?”
“Ja. While I was working with plumbers and sheetrockers and painters on other jobs, I watched what they did. I asked questions. Lots of them, and I learned their tricks of the trade. What I learned I put to use here.” He leaned against the doorframe. “I’ll use it until my twin brother, Micah, gets married.”
“You’d give your brother a house as a wedding gift?” She wondered how she could have considered Daniel selfish and self-centered.
“He’ll need it. Why wouldn’t I give it to him?”
Walking away and pretending to be fascinated by an arch leading from the kitchen to the laundry room, she asked in what she hoped was a casual voice, “So you don’t plan on marrying?”
“I told you, Hannah, I needed to concentrate on starting my business. It wouldn’t be fair to spend all my time on that if I were a husband and daed.”
“Ja, you told me that.” But I don’t want to believe it. That was her problem, not his, and she needed a way to deal with her ridiculous heart which kept believing Daniel would change his dreams to make hers come true.
He cleared his throat, as uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken as she was. “I’ve got something for Shelby.” He opened one of the cupboard doors and pulled out a piece of wood about a foot long and eight inches wide. It’d been smoothed and polished, glinting beneath the skylight. “I spoke to Keely about this, because it might help Shelby with her occupational therapy.” He held it out.
Hannah took it. Her eyes widened as she examined it. Into the board were set a variety of large wooden pegs and screws. Each had been painted a bright color. The pegs had been glued into place, so no amount of hammering would push them through the wood. The screws had been inserted so they could turn a few times, but couldn’t be removed.
“What is it?” she asked.
“A toy that doubles as a therapy tool. Keely wanted Shelby to have some small objects to grip, and the pegs are the right size.” He tapped one of the screws. “Turning these will strengthen Shelby’s fingers and wrists.”
She blinked back sudden tears. She wondered if she’d ever figure out Daniel. One minute, he was all business, talking about the company he wanted to establish and how he never would be a family man. The next, he was showing the depth of his heart by planning to give the beautiful house to his brother and by making such a wunderbaar gift for Shelby.
“You give it to her,” Hannah choked out, so overwhelmed she could hardly speak. “Then she’ll know it’s from you.”
Daniel called the toddler over to him. Setting the board on the floor, he said, “This is for you, liebling.”
“Da-dan!” cried Shelby in delight as she dropped with a plop to sit on the floor. Tossing Buzz-buzz aside, she reached for the red peg. Her fingers closed in front of it, but instead of getting frustrated as she often was during her therapy sessions, she tried again.
And again and again.
Hannah lost count of the number of times the little girl tried to grab the peg. She watched, holding her breath. When Shelby grasped the peg and chortled her deep laugh, Hannah clapped her hands and cheered.
Daniel came to his feet while Shelby tried to grasp the blue peg and was successful on her first try.
Through happy tears racing down her face, Hannah said, “Danki, Daniel!”
“I’m glad it makes you happy.” His hand curved along her face, his thumb brushing away her tears.
She gazed at him, unable to speak as his arm slid around her waist, drawing her to him. He ran his fingers along her cheek, and she feared her trembling legs would forget how to hold her. She wanted to forget everything except for the yearning in his eyes. He whispered her name in the moment before his lips captured hers. When he tugged her to him, she curved her arms around his shoulders. Her hands clenched on his wool coat that couldn’t disguise the work-hardened muscles beneath it.
Slowly he lifted his mouth from hers after grazing her lips with another swift kiss. His blue eyes glowed like a calm pond, but there was nothing serene about them. Emotions collided within them, and she couldn’t help wondering if he was feeling the same joy she was. She hoped so because this moment was everything she’d dreamed of.
Before...
Hannah gasped and stepped away. Now wasn’t before, and she’d learned something in the past three years about letting her heart lead the way. She seized Shelby who yelped a protest as her new toy clattered against the floor.
“Danki for showing us your house, Daniel, but we have to go.”
He frowned. “Are you going to run away every time you let me a little bit past the walls you’ve raised to keep me away?”
“It’s better I leave than wait for you to go without saying goodbye.” The bitter words spilled from her mouth, erasing the pleasure she’d found in his kiss.
He flinched as if she’d struck him.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, cuddling Shelby close. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No.” He stuffed his hands into his coat pockets and looked bleak. “You have every right to say that, because it’s true. I messed up three years ago.”
She took one step away, then another. He watched her until she reached the door. Bending, he picked up the toy he’d made for Shelby. He handed it and Buzz-buzz to Hannah. She thanked him and waited for him to say something.
But he didn’t.
Neither did she as she opened the door and left. She hurried across the clearing and hoped he’d call her back.
But he didn’t.
How foolish she’d been to kiss him! She’d dared to believe he’d come to love her as much as she’d loved him for so long.
But he didn’t.
Chapter Thirteen<
br />
Hannah dropped a canning jar. It broke into a half dozen pieces, sliding across the bare floor. Leaving the shards where they were, she set Shelby in her high chair before her little sister could touch the broken glass. Hannah selected an apple oatmeal muffin from the ones cooling on the counter. Checking it wasn’t too hot, she peeled off the paper and set the sweet muffin on the tray. The little girl took a big bite, scattering crumbs down the front of her.
Going to the laundry room, Hannah got the broom and dustpan. She began to sweep up the broken glass.
“That’s the fourth thing you’ve broken since the quilting frolic,” Grossmammi Ella said as she came into the kitchen. Counting on her fingers, she said, “A cup, a glass, the sugar bowl and the canning jar.”
“I’ll be more careful,” she said like an obedient kind. It was easier to agree because she didn’t have to think about it. She didn’t want to think about anything when too many of her thoughts led to Daniel.
“Sit,” her great-grandmother said, pointing to the table.
“I need to—”
“Shelby is in the high chair, and you and I have enough gut sense to step around the glass. Sit.”
Hannah obeyed. Again it was easier than explaining she had too many chores to do this morning to sit and be scolded for being clumsy.
As soon as she sat across from her great-grandmother, Grossmammi Ella said, “I know I miss a lot, Hannah, and I’m sure I’ve forgotten more, but there are some things I can see. You’re attracted to your Daniel.”
Don’t call him my Daniel! She silenced the thought which sounded petulant even in her head.
“Grossmammi Ella, you know I made a mistake trusting Daniel Stoltzfus once,” she said. “I’d be a fool to do so again.”
“Bah!” Her great-grandmother waved aside her words as if they were annoying gnats. “So you made a mistake? What was it? Two years ago?”
“Three.”
“So you made a mistake three years ago. Everyone makes mistakes. The important thing is to learn from them. Learn what you did wrong and learn how with God’s help, you can avoid the mistake again.”
Hannah sighed. “So much easier said than done. I’ve been asking God to guide me in what I should do. I need to make sure I listen to Him instead of anyone else.”
“Like the gut-looking young man who glows with joy when he visits?” Grossmammi Ella folded her thin arms on the table. “Your Daniel has the look my Earney had when he came to court me. And I see the happiness in your eyes when Daniel is at our door. It’s like what I felt in my heart when Earney smiled at me. I tell you, Hannah, he’s a gut man.”
“Ja, Grossdawdi was—”
“Not my Earney. I’m talking about your Daniel. He’s a gut man.”
Looking away, she didn’t want to admit she agreed. Daniel was a gut man, not the villain she’d created and nurtured in her imagination for the past three years. He was a hardworking man in pursuit of what he’d wanted.
The memory of Daniel’s laugh rumbled through her head. His laugh—his real one, not the polite one he’d used when he first came to the house—was like the sound of distant thunder against the rolling hills. It resonated within her, slipping past the guard she’d put in place to keep her heart from being touched again. His joking had stripped away her anger.
“The gut Lord has given you three years to heal,” her great-grandmother said, “and He has brought your Daniel back into your life. God has a reason for these things. If it’s not to give you two a chance to reconsider, what else could it be?”
Hannah blinked on tears as her great-grandmother continued in a logical manner. This was the woman she remembered from fifteen years ago, before the Alzheimer’s disease had begun to rob her of what she’d been.
Reaching across the table, Hannah cradled Grossmammi Ella’s fragile hand. Her great-grandmother stretched to take Shelby’s right hand while Hannah clasped her little sister’s left. When her great-grandmother bowed her head in silent prayer, Hannah did the same, grateful for her family circle that was the perfect haven from the yearnings and fears in her heart.
* * *
Had anyone ever been as stupid as Daniel had been yesterday when he’d kissed Hannah? When he’d been walking out with her, he’d known better than to kiss her and let her think he was ready to offer her the future she wanted. He hadn’t planned to kiss her yesterday either, but when he’d seen the joy on her face and knew he’d brought it to her, his longing to hold her had silenced his gut sense.
He glanced at her house through the rain which had returned at dawn. Hannah must know he was at the bridge. His crew had just gone home, leaving silence in their wake after a long day of cutting boards and nailing them in place. One more board needed to be cut; then Daniel could call it a day, too. The only sounds were the thud of the rain on the repaired roof and his conscience urging him to go to the Lambrights’ house and apologize for what he’d done.
Which would be fine if he were sorry he’d kissed her. He wasn’t. Not a bit. For years, he wondered if her lips would be as luscious and sweet as her honey, and he had his answer. They were. But instead of satisfying his curiosity and putting the idea of kissing her out of his head, the caress of her lips against his had whetted his longing for another kiss...and another...and another.
Irritated at his thoughts, he pounded the hammer against the board to wedge into the narrow curve so it would support that section of the arch. The hammer grazed his thumb. He yelped and dropped the hammer. Shaking his hand as if he could make the pain fall out, he surged to his feet.
He grimaced. He hadn’t hit a finger since he was an apprentice learning how to wield a hammer. That was what he got for not paying attention to his work.
At a loud roar, Daniel looked up. A black sports car come to a stop by the barriers on the far end of the bridge. Its engine cut out, and the noise vanished. The door opened and out stepped a man with bright red hair and tattered blue jeans tucked into work boots that looked newer than Daniel’s. He wore a leather jacket over a white shirt.
Coming to the concrete barrier, the Englischer waved.
“Can I help you?” Daniel called.
“You’re Daniel Stoltzfus, right?” the Englischer asked in an odd accent Daniel had never heard.
“Ja.” Hanging his hammer on his tool belt, he asked, “What can I do for you?”
“I was hoping to talk to you.”
“Sure.” Daniel walked with care on the thick stringers where the planks of the deck hadn’t been secured into place. In the past two weeks, he’d had to traverse them often enough so he didn’t have to watch every step he took, but he knew better than to get too overconfident. Not paying attention could lead to an accident far more serious than a throbbing thumb; then there wouldn’t be any chance of finishing the bridge on time.
Stepping onto the asphalt, he strode to the barrier curving across the road from one set of guardrails to the other. He greeted the Englischer and waited for the man to state his business.
“I’m Liam O’Neill.” The redhead hooked a thumb behind him toward the south. “I bought the McClellan farm near Strasburg. Do you know it?”
Daniel was intrigued by the lilt of the man’s accent. “Ja, but not well.”
“The barn and the house need work. Since my wife and I purchased the farm last month, I’ve been asking around for someone who could do the work. Your name has come up a lot. Would you be willing to stop by and take a look and see if you’re interested in the project?”
“Ja, I’d be interested in seeing what you want done.”
“We want what you’re doing here.” He gestured toward the bridge. “I’ve driven past a few times, and I like how you’re updating the bridge without the changes being obvious. That’s what my wife wants with the farmhouse. It’s an old stone-end house like the one over there.” H
e pointed to the Lambrights’ house. “She wants what she calls a sympathetic renovation. Do you know what that is?”
“Ja. A house that lives like it’s new and looks like it’s old.”
The Englischer grinned. “Exactly. When can you stop by?”
“With the rain, we’re having to work whenever there’s a break and plenty of light. How about tomorrow night around six?”
“Perfect.” Liam offered his hand.
Daniel shook it as he said, “If you’ve got a list of projects you want done, that would help us get started.”
“I’ll have my wife pull her lists together into one.” He chuckled, then turned to leave. He paused and said, “You know, you’re the first Amish man I’ve ever spoken with.”
“And you’re the first I’ve ever spoken with from...”
“Ireland. Dublin.”
That explained his accent and his name, and Daniel grinned. “So let’s hope this project has no more firsts for either of us.”
“By the way, will you need transportation?”
“My horse and buggy will be fine, but danki.” He added, “Thanks.”
“I figured that out,” Liam said. “Okay, it sounds as if we’ve got a plan for tomorrow night. You can look around and see what you think is possible and what isn’t. I should warn you. My wife wants to open up the small rooms.”
“You’ll need a structural engineer to determine how best to support any load-bearing walls.”
“I don’t know any in the area.”
“I know a gut one, and I’ll be glad to give you his name and phone number whether you and I work together or not.”
“That’s generous of you, Mr. Stoltzfus.”
“Call me Daniel. Plain folk don’t put weight in titles.”
Liam nodded and walked to his car. The engine awoke with another mighty growl.
Daniel watched it drive away. He’d had his dream handed to him after years of waiting and hoping and saving to buy the equipment he needed and making contacts in the construction business throughout Lancaster County. He’d just been offered a job where he could be the boss and work with the best artisans he knew.
