A Widow's Hope (2 page)

She ate two spoonfuls before pushing the bowl aside. “I received a letter from our sister the other day. Would you like to read it?”

“Why don’t you read it to me?” Thomas said as he ladled more stew into his bowl. He broke off another piece of brown bread and looked up expectantly.

Hannah drew a breath and read aloud the letter that had warmed her heart and given her courage:

My dearest Hannah,

I hope this letter finds you well, along with mom, dad, and Thomas. And I truly hope you are not working too hard between the spring planting of the fields and all the chores your critters entail in the springtime. I trust you’re not starting seeds to bring with you because I have more than enough sprouted for a huge vegetable and herb garden once the soil warms up. And if there’s some plant you favor
that I’ve forgotten, you’ll have plenty of time to soak seeds once you’re settled in.

We are counting the days until we can welcome you to our home. All is well with us. Little Leah is busy embroidering your name on three hankies while Emma plans to bake a lemon cake with sour cream frosting on the day of your arrival. I told her it was your favorite.
My boys are glad you’re bringing sheep along, and not more cows to milk. Even Simon has been checking and repairing the fences so that our shepherdess can keep track of her flock. As for me? I look forward to having my loving sister near me again. Your sunny disposition has never failed to lift my spirits. And I can use your help in the kitchen as my hands are not as capable as they once were.

I know it is with great sorrow that you leave the farm you and Adam purchased as a young couple, but Thomas will care for it just as well, and you will still be able to visit. The Lord never closes a door without opening another. I am eager for you to meet Simon’s brother, Seth, who also lost his spouse a couple of years ago. He is a
kindhearted, hardworking man with a sweet little daughter to bring up alone. He has asked about your wool business more than once when I’ve mentioned you during meals. Now I must close, but soon
I will have your helpful counsel whenever I need it.

Your loving sister, Julia

Hannah smiled as she refolded the letter and placed it in her apron pocket. So like Julia to try to matchmake even while hundreds of miles away. She thought back to the time Adam had come courting. Julia had had a hand in encouraging Adam to court her and see Hannah as more than a good friend. But Hannah wasn’t a young woman with dreams spinning around her head, wearing her hopes on her sleeve. At twenty-eight, she would gladly spend the rest of her life as a widow if only God had blessed her with several
bopplin.
But she had no babies and probably never would.

“
Your
sunny disposition
…who is Julia talking about, sister?” Thomas asked, breaking her reverie with his teasing.

Hannah swatted his arm lightly but couldn’t help but smile. “Julia’s been gone for some time. She must have forgotten my true nature.”

“It is that true nature I will sorely miss.” Thomas brushed a kiss on her forehead before heading outdoors to his chores.

Lately Hannah had felt neither helpful nor sunny, knowing Simon had originally insisted that she sell her sheep or give them to Thomas before making the move.

Hannah’s place was with her sister. So like Ruth, that is where she would go. But she would not move without her sheep. Caring for those animals, the gentlest of God’s creatures, allowed her days to be productive and meaningful. But they might be more than the Miller clan ever bargained for.

Holmes County, Ohio

Simon Miller swept his hat from his head as he entered the livestock barn and wiped his brow with his handkerchief. When his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he spotted his two sons sitting side by side, milking cows. The heifers chomped noisily on hay from their trough, not paying much attention to the boys’ small hands. “Awfully warm for March, no?” Simon asked.

“
Jah,
sure,” his elder son agreed, glancing up briefly. Matthew at
twelve years old was growing so fast Julia was always lengthening his trousers. Wiry and fleet as a fox, the boy hurried wherever he went. He wasn’t much of a student, but his love of the farm equaled Simon’s own, and he seldom had to be told what chores needed to be done.

“Put some elbow to it, Henry, or you’ll still be sitting there come dark.” Simon chuckled at his younger son, who usually worried about angering the heifer by pulling too hard or not warming his hands enough. He was as different from his brother as the hawk to a dove. Although not lazy, Henry meandered through his chores, easily distracted by an ant colony or a cloud formation or a newborn calf. Although he was usually quiet, when the child did start talking, he poured out a bucketful of questions.

“Finish up, sons, and get that milk into the cooler. Your
mamm
will have dinner on the table soon. And I for one am hungry.”

“Me too,” they answered in unison, and even Henry worked the udders faster.

Simon walked slowly to enjoy the sun slanting over his white frame house. Sunset was his favorite time of day. With the chores behind him and night coming on, he looked forward to a good meal with his family. Julia was an excellent cook. Her pies and cakes were the best in the district. His mouth watered at the thought of her fresh peach cobbler.

They didn’t need Hannah Brown coming to live with them. They would be able to manage fine until his daughters were old enough to take on more of the household chores. But the Bible was clear on the topic of widows and orphaned children. It was his responsibility to take in Julia’s sister and provide a home for her. He was a deacon in the district. What kind of example would he be setting if he allowed her to struggle on her farm alone? With only one brother back home and an aged father, Hannah should not remain her parents’ burden.

But did she have to bring sixty smelly animals that produced no milk, no cheese, and no butter with her? And wool was scratchy, no
less.
Ach,
he mumbled, trying to put the move from his mind for the tenth time that day. He’d crossed paths with Julia’s sister during some of her previous visits. The woman appeared to have an opinion about everything. It wasn’t an Amish woman’s place to be so forthright. And he’d seen books on her mantel that had no place there—books of higher learning and agricultural references. Everything he needed to know about farming he’d learned from his
daed
and would pass down to his sons. He didn’t need any textbooks to teach him about crop rotation or natural pesticides. Adam should have put a stop to all that book learning after their marriage, but Adam had been too lenient with Hannah. Even Julia admitted it. Julia had said Hannah would lose interest in studying once children came. But poor Hannah and Adam hadn’t been blessed with God’s greatest miracle of all.

Simon walked up his back steps where a welcoming lamp glowed in the window. He whispered a silent prayer of thanks for his four healthy children. It wasn’t easy to be widowed at such a young age with an active farm to manage. He pledged to be patient with his sister-in-law when she arrived, remembering Romans 12:12: “Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer.”

He would let Julia deal with her sister because the house was a woman’s domain. He had a problem to solve with his own sibling. His younger brother, Seth, had been widowed for more than a year and a half. Time to at least start thinking about marrying again. Seth’s little girl needed a mother, and what’s more, Seth needed sons. One skinny little daughter wouldn’t help in the fields during the years to come. Seth had a hay crop and a corn crop, and he needed
kinner.
Simon yearned for the day his brother remarried and once again had a loving wife to set his table with a meal, mend his shirts, and keep the house clean. Seth usually ate cold sandwiches with pickled beets or chow chow twice a day. Only his fried eggs or oatmeal in the morning broke the routine. That wasn’t right. Never a baked chicken, slice of smoked ham, or piece of spiced apple pie with ice cream dripping down the sides.

With a glance over his shoulder, Simon spotted his boys closing the barn door behind them, and he entered the kitchen feeling immensely blessed. He would make it his business, no, his duty, to see his younger brother remarried and settled into a happy home.

Seth straightened his spine at the sound of horse hooves. He was refitting a mule harness with new buckles at the anvil so it would be ready for spring planting. A buggy was coming up his lane, and Seth recognized the horse as his brother’s. But it wasn’t Simon who stepped down and tied the horse to the hitching post but his sister-in-law, Julia. And she was carrying a large wicker hamper. Seth wiped his hands quickly against his leather apron and hurried to meet her.

“
Guder mariye,
” she called as he approached. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, but as always there was a smile on her pleasant face.

“Good morning to you, Julia. What have you in the basket?” He couldn’t help but grin in anticipation. “Something good to eat, I hope?”

He reached to take the hamper, but she sidestepped him and headed for the house. “No, just a basketful of baby kittens. Simon was concerned you might have too many mice this spring after the mild winter.”

“
What?
” Seth followed Julia up the steps, across the porch, and into the house.

She managed to stay beyond his reach until she set the basket on the table with a mischievous grin. “I hope you like calico with white paws.”

Seth lifted the lid cautiously, not wishing for a dozen little kittens to scamper in all directions. He needn’t have worried. Inside was a pie tin of biscuits, a stuffed chicken smelling of sage and chestnuts, and an entire custard pie. “You tease me, Julia. This is much better
than a litter of mouse catchers.” He leaned close and inhaled deeply. “What kind of pie? Banana cream?”

Julia walked to the sink to wash her hands. “I tease you because you should laugh more. And the pie is lemon cream,” Julia replied, laying her wool sweater on a chair back.

“Oh, mercy. My favorite,” Seth uttered before heading for plates and forks. “Phoebe,” he called in the direction of the stairs. “Come down. Your Aunt Julia is here, and she’s brought lunch for us.” Seth set three plates on the table with a clatter, but Julia picked up one to return to the cupboard. “I’ve already eaten. But I’ll have a cup of coffee with you and Phoebe.” She tucked a lock of her dark hair back under her
kapp.

“Coffee it is,” Seth said as he reached for the pot on the stove, shoving aside the frying pan. His attempt at making pancakes yesterday had been a disaster, and he hadn’t had a chance to scrub off the burned results. He noticed Julia eyeing his kitchen while she thought him distracted—the wilted geranium on the windowsill, the stack of unsorted mail on the counter, the laundry Julia had washed on Monday that he still hadn’t put back in Phoebe’s bureau. It was a far cry from the tidy kitchen his late wife had kept.

He moved the laundry basket closer to the steps. “Don’t think I don’t appreciate your washing our clothes, Julia. I’ve just been busy getting ready for the spring planting.” He poured coffee into a chipped cup while Julia went for the pitcher of milk.

“I know that, Seth. Your outdoor chores take all your energy this time of year. I’ll take the clothes up before I leave, and Phoebe and I can put them away together.”

“That child,” Seth said, his impatience growing.

“Wait, Seth. Let’s talk a moment before she comes down.” Julia smiled in her bashful fashion as she often did when about to venture into touchy matters. “Has she said anything this week? Has she raised her voice in song or praise? Has she talked
at all?
” Distress knit her brows and creased her forehead.

“She prays silently before meals and before bed, as do I. God doesn’t require that we shout loudly to the heavens.” Seth knew Julia meant well, but he wished she’d stop worrying about his daughter. Phoebe had simply chosen to be quiet for a time. “When she’s ready to start talking again, she will, and making a big fuss won’t hurry things along.”

Julia set the chicken on a carving platter, along with a sharp knife and large fork, and then pulled back the foil covering the biscuits. “I agree, but it’s been almost two years since Constance’s passing. And I’m worried that if Phoebe doesn’t resume talking soon, she might never.”

Seth exhaled a weary sigh. “It’s not been two years; it’s barely one and a half. Don’t worry so about Phoebe. There’s not a thing wrong with that child.”

At that moment, the subject of their discussion leaped from the bottom step and hurtled herself across the kitchen, her face aglow with pleasure on seeing her aunt. Julia swept the five-year-old up into her arms, still easy to do as Phoebe remained small for her age. “Hello, dear Phoebe,” Julia said, bouncing her on her hip. There was certainly nothing wrong with the hug she delivered to Julia’s neck or the huge grin on her sweet face.