A Widow's Hope

by Vannetta Chapman

  “First?”

  “Probably won’t be the last.”

  “The last to what?”

  “Set your kapp on Jacob Schrock, which is why I thought it my job to warn you.”

  “Warn me?” Hannah stared at the woman in disbelief.

  “That road goes nowhere. You’re wasting your time with that one.”

  Hannah felt her temper rise. She tried to focus on the mug she was filling with soapy water, but the buzzing in her ears was a sure sign that she was about to say something she’d regret.

  “Give it a month, at the most two, and you’ll be crying on someone’s shoulder about how your heart is broken. Best to listen to sense. No disrespect to Micah, but his bruder Jacob is spoiled goods.”

  Hannah’s hands froze on the mug she was washing. “Surely you don’t mean that.”

  “Don’t look at me that way, Hannah. You know better than anyone what it’s like to live with a person who has been damaged. Would you want Matthew married to someone?”

  “Excuse me?” Hannah dropped the mug into the water, causing suds to splash up and onto her sleeves.

  “Don’t get me wrong. Gotte has a plan for every life.”

  “Nice of you to admit that.”

  “Jacob’s tried dating a few times, but it didn’t work out. He has quite the chip on his shoulder. I will admit that financially he’s certainly a catch since he inherited that farm from his parents.”

  “So now he’s a catch?”

  “Some women think so.”

  “Elizabeth, I don’t know what to say.”

  “You could thank me for speaking the truth. I’m only trying to help you see straight.”

  “That’s very kind of you.”

  “Wisdom, Hannah. It comes with age. You’ll see. Think about it. What woman would want to wake up to a disfigured husband every morning?”

  “That’s uncharitable, Elizabeth.”

  “Not to mention that Jacob feels sorry for himself, as if he’s the only one who has troubles.”

  Hannah gave up on washing the mug, dropped it into the sudsy water and carefully dried her hands on a dishrag. She attempted to count to ten but only made it to three.

  “I think I’m needed outside.”

  “It won’t be the first time I’m left to do dishes by myself.”

  “Maybe that’s because you’re a bitter, unpleasant person.”

  Beth’s mouth opened into a perfect O, but no sound came out.

  “I’m sorry. I know your life has been hard too, with Jared’s drinking problem and all...”

  “I do not want to talk about Jared.”

  “But your personal trials don’t give you a reason to speak ill of Jacob—”

  “I did not.”

  “Also, I’d appreciate it if you’d refrain from determining the course of my son’s life when he is but four years old.” And with that, Hannah turned and walked back out into the afternoon sunshine, feeling better than she had in a very long time.

  It wasn’t until she was on her way home in the buggy that she allowed her mind to comb back over Elizabeth’s harsh words. Her parents were speaking quietly in the front, and Matthew had fallen asleep with his head in her lap. She was brushing the hair out of his eyes, thinking of what a beautiful and kind child he was, when Elizabeth’s words came back to her as clearly as if the woman were sitting beside her in the buggy.

  You’re not the first.

  Probably won’t be the last.

  Financially he’s certainly a catch.

  There were women in their district interested in Jacob? Well, of course there were. That shouldn’t surprise her one bit, and it certainly wasn’t any of her business.

  She had no plans of dating the man, despite the kiss. That had been an impulsive thing for him to do. Somewhere deep inside she’d known he was going to. She should have kept her distance. What had she been thinking?

  She worked for him. She wanted to help her parents and to provide for Matthew. She didn’t need to step out with anyone. She had no intention of doing such a thing. If Elizabeth thought so, that was her misunderstanding.

  Jacob was a friend, a neighbor of sorts and her employer. He was nothing more, and though she might defend him to nosy interfering women, she had no intention of falling in love with the man. Her heart had suffered enough damage, or so she told herself as the sun began to set across the Indiana fields.

  Chapter Eleven

  The next week passed quickly. Jacob managed to finish the bin of receipts that he’d been assigned, as had his nephews and Hannah’s niece. If he managed to survive this audit, it would be because they’d worked together.

  He peeked into the office as often as he dared, and slowly Hannah managed to create order out of his chaos. She’d asked him to find a filing cabinet, and earlier in the week he’d spied one that had been set out in the trash by a local Realtor. After checking to be sure it was free, he strapped it to the back of his buggy, brought it home, cleaned it inside and out, and oiled the tracks the drawers ran on.

  “Could use a new paint job, but I suppose it will do.”

  “It’s perfect.” Hannah had already purchased a box of folders and the next day she transferred the taped-up receipts to the file drawers—chronological, three years per drawer, orderly and neat.

  He hoped the IRS agent would be impressed. He certainly was. The bins were stacked in the corner of the room and when they were all empty, he carried them to the stall he used as a storage place.

  Hannah beamed as if she’d baked the perfect apple pie. She was proud of her work, as she should be. He thought again of the bonus he meant to give her, almost said something, but decided to wait. If he owed money to the government, he would need to meet that obligation first. It would be wrong to suggest she might receive extra money for her labor and then disappoint her.

  But he wanted to raise her hopes, to ease the worry he saw in her eyes. How much money had her sisters and parents been able to raise? He spoke to her again about approaching her bishop and asking for help, but she only shook her head and said something about humility and Gotte’s wille and stubborn men.

  Every time he saw her, he thought of the kiss they’d shared.

  Hannah, on the other hand, seemed completely focused on the audit. It was after lunch on Friday when she finally admitted, “I think we’re ready.”

  The office barely resembled the place it had been before Hannah came to work there. A bright yellow basket of mums sat next to a pot of aloe vera. The afternoon light splashed through the sparkling panes of glass. Hannah’s sweater was draped across the back of the new office chair he’d purchased and the shelf held her quilted lunch bag. She opened the bottom drawer of the desk and pulled out her purse.

  “So you’re headed home?”

  “Ya. Matthew has therapy today.”

  “Of course. How’s he doing?”

  “Gut. Getting stronger, I think. It helps that he’s able to have the same therapist every time he goes.”

  She stood there, waiting, as Jacob’s mind jumped back and forth looking for something else to say. He wasn’t ready for her to leave, but he realized he looked like a fool, standing there silently and twirling his hat in his hands. He crammed it back on his head and said perhaps too gruffly, “Danki for your help.”

  “Of course. It’s what you hired me for.”

  “Ya, but we both know you’ve gone above and beyond. I don’t know if we’ll pass the audit or not, but if we do, it’s because of you.”

  “And your nephews and my niece.”

  “Ya.” The same thought he’d had earlier. It was almost as if she understood his thoughts.

  She blushed prettily then, and he nearly asked her out to eat or to go for a buggy ride or perhaps hire a driver to take them to Shipshe. But she was already gathering her thin
gs together, talking about a cousin from Pennsylvania who was coming into town and how she needed to help her mamm prepare.

  It seemed her weekend was full of plans, so he wished her a good afternoon and pretended there was a rocker he needed to finish working on.

  There was a rocker he needed to work on—and a dresser, a coffee table, as well as plans for a playhouse later in the month. He tried working on each one, but he couldn’t seem to find the right sandpaper, or varnish or idea. Finally he gave up, harnessed Bo to the buggy and headed toward town.

  Jacob was standing in line at the library and thought the woman in line ahead of him was Hannah. He made a fool of himself calling out to her only to have the stranger look at him oddly and hurry off.

  His gelding, Bo, seemed full of energy, so Jacob decided to head north of town and scout the area where he’d be building a playhouse for a child with Down syndrome. He thought he passed Hannah on the road and his heart rate accelerated and he waved his hand out the window, but it wasn’t Hannah. Of course it wasn’t. Matthew’s therapy appointment was in the middle of town, not on a country road headed north, plus the horse he’d just waved at was a nice roan and Hannah’s horse was chestnut.

  He even convinced himself that it was her buggy parked in front of his brother’s house. When he pulled in, with the excuse that he’d promised his nephews he’d come by and pick up one of the kittens, he found it was one of the older women from the next district who’d stopped by to drop off two bags of clothes for the boys. Too late—he either had to admit he’d made up the excuse or go to the barn and pick out a kitten.

  The boys gave him the black one with white patches around its eyes.

  “Don’t forget to feed it.” Tim looked concerned.

  “Of course I’ll feed it.”

  “Do you even have cat food?” Thomas asked.

  “No. I don’t have a cat.”

  “You do now.” Samuel reached forward and scratched the kitten between the ears. “We’ll loan you some until you get to the store.”

  Joseph ran off to fetch a container.

  Jacob tried to stifle the groan, but without much success.

  “Didn’t know you were in the market for a cat, bruder.” Micah stood grinning at him, as if he too could read his mind.

  “I’ve been wrestled into this.”

  “Ya, my kinder are quite convincing.”

  “And don’t leave him in the barn alone, Jacob.” Eli looked at him with the seriousness only a nine-year-old could muster. “Are you sure you don’t want two?”

  “I’m not sure I want one.”

  “Then put him in your mudroom. He needs to be able to hear you so he won’t be scared.”

  His trailer didn’t have a mudroom, but Jacob decided not to point that out. Perhaps he could make a place for the kitten next to his washing machine, or in the office. Wouldn’t that be a nice surprise for Hannah? The IRS agent might not appreciate it, so perhaps he’d wait until the end of the audit. In the meantime, he’d try to find out whether she even liked animals.

  He whistled as he drove back toward his house, realizing that he’d made it through Friday. Two more days to stumble through and then Hannah would be back at her desk.

  * * *

  “It’s gut when family comes to visit, ya?” Hannah’s mom slipped a cup of coffee in front of her.

  Matthew was in bed.

  Her father was checking things in the barn.

  And the weekend was finally over.

  “Ya, it is.”

  “Only...?”

  “I wasn’t about to add anything else.”

  Her mother sipped her coffee, studying her over the rim of the cup.

  “I suppose I was thinking about the audit tomorrow,” Hannah said.

  “Are you ready?”

  “I’ve done my best.”

  “Then you’re ready.” Her mother reached forward and patted the back of her hand.

  When Hannah looked down and saw that, her mother’s hand on top of hers, something stirred in her chest. Too often she took her parents for granted, took her life for granted. What would Jacob give for just one more hour of sipping coffee with his parents?

  “And now I’ve upset you.”

  “Nein. It’s only, I was thinking of Jacob and how awful it would be to lose your parents.”

  Her mamm sat back, reached for a peanut butter bar, broke it in half and pushed a portion of it toward Hannah. “No one lives forever.”

  “I know that.”

  “Not that I’m in a hurry to die.”

  “I should hope not.”

  “You’re thinking of this all wrong.”

  “I am?”

  “It’s true that Jacob is lonely, and that he’s looking for his way in life.”

  “He’s lonely?”

  “But as for his parents? Don’t mourn them, Hannah. They are resting in the arms of Gotte, dancing around his throne. What we see dimly they see clearly now.”

  Hannah couldn’t help laughing. “I guess when you put it that way...”

  “Now tell me about Jacob.”

  “About him?”

  “Has he kissed you yet?”

  “Mamm!”

  “You don’t have to share if you don’t want to.”

  Hannah changed the subject. They sat there for another half hour, speaking of relatives, the coming fall and Matthew’s birthday. What they didn’t discuss sat between them. Though Hannah wanted to ask about the amount they owed the bank and how they were progressing toward meeting that debt, she didn’t want to ruin this moment on a Sunday night, sitting in the house she’d grown up in. She didn’t want to think about where they might be in a month or a year. She wanted to close her eyes and pretend, just for a moment, that everything would be fine.

  * * *

  Hannah and Jacob stood shoulder to shoulder, staring out the window as the small green car pulled down the lane. It stopped well shy of the parking area.

  “What’s she doing?” Hannah stepped closer, practically rubbing her nose against the glass.

  If anything, she seemed more keyed up than Jacob felt.

  He attempted to ease her nerves by putting a hand on her shoulder, but she jumped as if he’d stuck her with a hot poker.

  “It’s going to be fine,” he said.

  “Ya, but what’s she doing? Who stops in the middle of a lane?”

  “Looks like she’s on her phone.”

  “Maybe she thinks she can’t use it in here.”

  “Or maybe she has an important call. Maybe there’s an emergency audit that she needs to leave for.”

  Hannah bumped her shoulder against his. “Don’t joke that way. We need this to be over.”

  “She’s moving again.”

  The car stopped next to the hitching post.

  “How can an Englisch vehicle be that quiet?”

  “My guess would be that it’s electric and expensive.”

  “Electric? So she has to...plug it in?”

  “Ya, they have a large battery that holds a significant charge. You have to plug them in at night.”

  “What if you run out of...” Hannah twirled her finger round and round.

  “Juice? There’s a backup fuel supply like other Englisch cars use.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  Jacob shrugged. They might be Amish, but they didn’t live on the moon. Most men, Amish or Englisch, were interested when a new type of vehicle came out. He’d read a few articles on electric cars. He considered explaining that to Hannah, but she was already moving toward the door of the barn, so he squared his shoulders and followed her.

  The Englisch woman looked to be in her early twenties. She had pale skin, spiky black hair and multiple piercings in both ears. Roughly Hannah’s height, she looked mor
e like a girl than a woman. She was dressed in a sweater-type dress that settled two inches above her knees and high-heeled leather boots. Jacob wouldn’t have guessed her weight to be more than a hundred pounds.

  She’d made it out of the car, but now she stood halfway between it and them, staring down at her phone, her thumbs flying over the mobile device. There was a swish sound and then she dropped it into her leather handbag and looked up at them.

  “I’m Piper Jenkins, your IRS auditor. You must be Jacob.”

  “Ya, Jacob Schrock. Good to meet you.”

  She turned to Hannah, but then a buzz came from her purse. She reached into it and scooped out her phone. Rolling her eyes, she dropped it back into the bag.

  “I’m Hannah King. I’ve been helping Jacob with his accounts.” Hannah clasped her hands in front of her. She’d admitted earlier that morning that she was worried the auditor would question her credentials.

  Jacob almost laughed at the look of relief on her face when Piper said, “Oh, good. I’m glad to hear that he has help. Many of the Amish men I’ve audited try to take care of accounting on their own, and that doesn’t usually end well.”

  “It’s certainly not something I excel at,” Jacob said. “If you’d like to come inside, we’ve set up a place for you to work in the office.”

  Hannah had arrived a half hour early that morning, all in a frenzy because they hadn’t thought to set up a work area for the woman. In short order, Jacob had dragged in a desk that he was working on for a client, Hannah had popped her chair next to the desk and he’d retrieved the stool that she had originally used.

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have your old office chair?” He’d put it in the corner of his workroom and used it to stack items on. The new kitten, Blackie, had taken it over and turned it into her daytime napping spot.

  “That old thing? I’m surprised it holds the cat. No thank you. I’ll take the stool.”

  They’d pushed the desks so that the two women would be facing each other. It was crowded, but it worked.

  Now Piper walked into the room, paused a moment and then nodded in approval. “Let’s see what you’ve got for me.”

  It occurred to Jacob that he should be tense, but honestly he believed that he’d done right by the US Treasury Department. Perhaps he hadn’t filed the correct forms, but he’d paid his fair share of taxes. He wasn’t worried about the outcome, especially with Hannah at the helm.