A Widow's Hope (8 page)

Simon Miller wasn’t a happy man. Although the unloading of the sheep on the Sabbath had been accomplished without breaking the
Ordnung,
he still felt his authority had been challenged. He didn’t like how Hannah had questioned him in front of teenaged Amos. Young people needed to see good examples of respect and deference, not someone debating a deacon. And how did Hannah talk Seth into her idea? Seth must have persuaded the driver to unload the livestock by himself. Yet Seth was as levelheaded and practical as they came, not a man who’d humor female whims. How lucky, Simon thought, that Julia was nothing like her willful sister. Julia never questioned his decisions. Her infrequent advice was well intentioned and well timed. She was a helpmate and a loving support, not a woman caught up with her own ideas. Adam Brown surely must have had the patience of Job to deal with his wife.

Simon turned his attention from the gelding he was grooming to the darkening sky. He gave his beard a thoughtful pull and prayed it wouldn’t snow. He needed to plow and disk his fields. He wanted to sow his wheat seeds before the heavy rains came. Yet the high ground was still frozen while the low remained too wet to cultivate. He had finished straightening all the bent implements, sharpened all the cutting blades, thoroughly sanitized the milking parlor, whitewashed the sheds, and cleaned the barn from top to bottom. Now he was itching to get his fingers back into the dirt. Nothing smelled as sweet as newly turned earth to a farmer. Even the cackle from crows would
be music to his ears if only he could start plowing. Soon the age old cycle of rebirth would begin as winter released its grip on the land. This year Matthew would be old enough to drive a team of horses by himself, while Henry could ride along with him. Emma would finish school in a couple months, so she would be home to help Julia whenever the arthritis flared up. Julia wouldn’t need Henry as much in the garden or with kitchen chores.

It was Emma who had him worried. Her fascination with Aunt Hannah seemed boundless. And Hannah Brown wasn’t the kind of example he wanted for his daughter. That very morning Simon had seen Hannah pull off her
kapp
and take all the pins from her bun. She had shaken out her long hair as though it were a source of great pride. Vanity—pure and simple! What kind of behavior was that for an Amish woman?

A short while ago he had seen her on the riverbank with her feet dangling in the water when she was supposed to be counting her flock. He couldn’t imagine the cold water had felt good. Some people would use any excuse to shirk their duties for a few minutes of playtime. How tired could tending sheep possibly make a person? He planned to speak to the widow about her vanity and laziness before Emma started to emulate her. Hannah was no longer living on her own—under his roof she must follow his rules.

He unhitched the horse from the crossties before he brushed the coat down to bare skin. After returning the gelding to his stall, he spotted the subject of his irritation duck beneath the porch. What could she possibly be looking for among the old implements stored there? Then Simon remembered her battered trunk and felt a little guilty. He should have dragged it inside the barn or into the cellar, out of the dampness, but the two of them could do that later.

“Good afternoon, Hannah,” Simon greeted. “What are you looking for?”

Hannah glanced up. Two heavy books were balanced on her knees, while several others had been stacked on a straw bale near her feet.
“Good afternoon, Simon. I’ve found what I sought—a description of the proper mixture for sheep feed, especially good nourishment for nursing mothers.” Her face radiated with joy.

Simon swallowed his irritation at finding her nose buried in a book. At least her
kapp
was back in place. “The grass in my pasture isn’t to your liking?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Oh, it’ll be just fine come summer. But for now, I’d better buy feed, or they’ll eat the grass so low it might kill the roots.” Her attention returned to the page where various grains with percentages of additives were listed. “I’ve brought some of the down payment Thomas paid before I left Pennsylvania, so it’ll be no problem to purchase feed—just to tide us over until the grass comes in.” Her finger trailed down one column and up the other making comparisons.

No problem?
Where exactly was she planning to buy this feed, and who would take time away from chores to help her? Simon was about to voice his concerns when a booming voice over his shoulder startled him out of his boots. He turned so quickly he bumped his head on the overhang while his hat fell into a puddle. He found himself face-to-face with his younger brother. Speaking to Hannah about keeping a proper appearance around the farm would have to wait.

“The first sunny day and you two decide to move the parlor out of doors?” asked Seth, surveying the curious scene before him. His
bruder
was stooped under the porch while the widow Brown sat on an upended milk crate. Books and papers were spread around her feet as though she were sitting before a cozy living room fire. She glanced up and met his eye. Unless he was mistaken, Hannah looked pleased to see him.

He swept his hat from his head and bowed, feeling a little silly with the gesture. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Brown. I would have thought Julia could find indoor accommodations for you. It’s a big house.” He was grinning like a schoolboy.

“Hello, Seth. It’s good to see you.” She bobbed her head politely. “I wanted to thank you again for helping me yesterday, and I wondered if you were going to a grain elevator anytime soon. I need livestock feed.” Her cheeks had flushed to bright pink, which on her looked very pretty. “I need sheep feed, and I looked up the perfect blend in one of Adam’s old reference books.” She tapped a forefinger on the worn leather binding.

“Now, Hannah, we shouldn’t impose on Seth for errands we could do ourselves,” Simon said, ducking out from under the porch. He rubbed the bruised spot on his forehead. “I’m sure he’s busy getting ready for spring planting. I’ll take you later in the week when I call on shut-ins as deacon.”

Impulsively, Seth spoke up. “I had planned to ride into Mount Eaton today for extra seed corn. It has the largest feed supply in the three-county area. Have you been to Mount Eaton? You’re welcome to ride with me and Phoebe if you like.” He hadn’t planned to make the trip today. He wanted to burn the brush pile of tree branches that had accumulated over winter and clear the fields for plowing. He’d stopped only to drop off the cutting blades Simon had promised to sharpen.

“May I?” she asked. “
Danki,
Seth. My hungry sheep won’t like waiting until later in the week for something to eat.” Hannah began loading her books back into the trunk.

Seth caught his brother’s expression when Hannah quoted his exact words, yet she seemed oblivious to her effect on the man. He bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning.

Simon slapped his damp hat back on his head. “Matthew and I will move your trunk to the barn while you’re at the grain elevator,” Simon said, “to get it out of the damp air.”

“Oh, would you?” she asked, finishing her repacking. “That would be better,
danki,
Simon.” Hannah rose from the milk crate and ducked her head beneath the overhang.

It was then that Seth got a good look at her appearance. Her
cape hung askew, and the hem of her dress was caked with dried mud. Mud had also spattered across her white apron. One leather boot was dusty while the other looked soaking wet. Grime streaked across one cheek, and there was a dot of something suspicious on the tip of her nose. Several tendrils of wheat-colored hair escaped her
kapp
and framed her face.

Simon blanched at her unkempt appearance, and a muscle began to twitch in his right cheek.

But Seth’s opinion of Hannah went up a notch or two. He liked a woman not afraid to work hard, and working on a farm meant getting dirty. Judging by her appearance, the widow must have worked very hard that morning. “Looks like you’ve already been busy today, Mrs. Brown.”

Hannah glanced down at her skirt then rubbed the palms of her hands on her apron. “Oh, my, I look a sight. I forgot how muddy fields get this time of year. I’ll change into something clean and meet you at your wagon in ten minutes.”

Simon shuffled his feet in the gravel and kicked at a rock. “Seth just arrived, Hannah,” he said, sounding peevish. “Maybe he’s not ready to leave right this minute.”

Seth stepped between the two and said to Simon. “Let’s unload the tools I brought for you to sharpen,
bruder.
It’ll give Mrs. Brown time to change and Phoebe a chance to visit with her cousins. Then we can be off.”

Shaking his head, Simon stalked away, allowing Seth a moment to speak to Hannah. She stood only inches away in a state of disarray he’d never seen his wife or
mamm
in before. Yet she met his gaze with cool assurance.

“
Danki,
Seth. You’ve come to my rescue twice in two days.” She smiled sweetly before stepping past him and heading toward the house.

Once again, Seth found himself speechless. Hannah possessed a confidence not commonplace among Amish women—at least his
Constance hadn’t had it. Constance had asked his opinion and advice even with matters in which she was experienced. And work directly with livestock? Not his late wife. She didn’t enjoy the few times she’d helped him milk cows. Constance had been afraid of grown animals. Only the newborns had interested her, and only when he’d carried them out of the pasture. The house had been Constance’s domain. But even on the hottest days of summer, after an afternoon of canning fruits and vegetables, she’d always greeted him in a freshly pressed dress.

The widow Brown hadn’t appeared the least bit embarrassed that she was muddy from head to toe. She might never have noticed if he and Simon hadn’t stared. Yet even in disarray, Seth had to admit she was a fine-looking woman.

And that one errant thought made Seth feel ashamed…as though he’d been disloyal.

Inviting Hannah to go to Mount Eaton had been a mistake— one that became more apparent when he told Phoebe that Hannah would accompany them. The child ran upstairs into Leah’s bedroom and refused to come out. Forcing her to do so would only cause a scene. And he didn’t want Julia to fret over his daughter more than she already did. So after they unloaded the tools and finished the shopping lists, he found himself riding ninety minutes to town with a woman who robbed him of his ability to speak.

But he needn’t have worried. Mrs. Brown seemed to have words for them both.

“Where is Phoebe?” Hannah asked, once settled on the seat beside him. “I thought you said you brought her today.”

“
Jah,
she came with me but decided to stay with her aunt instead,” Seth said, not meeting her eye. It was true; Phoebe clung to Julia like pollen dust. But Seth didn’t mention that his daughter didn’t like strangers and usually bolted like a rabbit if one came around. Now that Hannah lived at Simon’s, Phoebe would get used to her in time.

“She’s a lovely child, well behaved. You must be very proud.”

He looked at the woman sitting so near it made him nervous. He smelled the scent of raspberries but dared not ask why. “
Jah,
she made her
mamm
and me proud. She was the apple of Constance’s eye. Gentle like her too, and smart.”

Hannah smiled, leaning back against the bench. “I wish I could have met Constance, and you could have met Adam. How he loved springtime. Of course, spring comes earlier in Lancaster County than here in Holmes and puts on a better show. I’m sure the meadows back home are already covered with wildflowers and the skies filled with songbirds. I haven’t seen any birds here other than crows and hawks.”

Seth slapped the reins against the horses’ backs to pick up the pace “If you ask me, birds do nothing but peck away the new seeds if they’re not planted deep enough and wake a man up with all their squawking. I’ve got no use for birds until late summer when they can’t do too much damage.”

Hannah pondered this for a moment. “What about spring flowers—white trillium, wild violets, and grape hyacinths? Are they also nothing but a thorn in your side?” Her voice sounded teasing and playful.