“Well,” she said, “since you’re so busy painting right now and really don’t have the time to replant, maybe you ought to forget about trying to grow corn this year. We could plant some in the garden for our own personal use and see how that does. We could always lease some of the land and keep a few acres for our own use. That way it won’t be so much for you to handle.”
He offered her a weak smile and reached for her hand. “I think you might be right about that.”
Hannah smiled, too. It felt good to be making a decision together.
The phone rang, and Trisha hurried into the foyer to answer it. “Hello. Bonnie’s Bed-and-Breakfast.”
“Hi, Trisha, it’s Ken.”
“Oh, I’m surprised you’re calling so early.” She glanced at the clock on the mantel in the living room. “It’s eight o’clock here, so it must only be six in Oregon.”
“Yeah, it’s early yet, but I had a hard time sleeping last night and got up at the crack of dawn.”
“How come? Are you still worried about Bonnie and Allen?”
“Yes, I am, but I’m also worried about you.”
Now that’s a surprise. “Why are you worried about me?” she asked.
“When we talked last night, you said the weather was bad and you might lose power.”
“The electricity was out for several hours, and we had pounding rain with harsh winds most of the night. But the weather looks much better this morning. The sun’s out now, and it’s warming up fast, so I think things will dry fairly quickly this morning.”
“That’s good to hear. I’m glad you’re okay. But I don’t think it’s good for you to be in that big house all alone.”
Trisha smiled. She could hear the concern in Ken’s voice, and it made her feel good that he might care more for her than he was willing to admit. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking. Even if he did feel something for her, with him living in Oregon and her in Kentucky, it wasn’t likely that they’d ever begin a relationship.
They talked awhile longer, until Ken said, “I’d better let you go. I’m going to keep trying to get ahold of Bonnie, and I’d appreciate it if you’d let me know if you hear anything from her or Allen.”
“I certainly will. You take care and try not to worry. Goodbye, Ken.” Trisha hung up the phone and leaned against the doorjamb with a sigh. She knew it was silly, but talking to Ken on the phone reminded her of when they were teenagers and used to spend hours talking to each other. Part of her missed those carefree days, yet she really wouldn’t want to go back to being a teenager again.
“It’s time to get some breakfast and begin my day,” she told herself as she headed for the kitchen.
“You look kind of down in the dumps this morning,” Samuel said when Timothy showed up at his house. “Did you and Hannah have a disagreement?”
“Nope. We’ve been gettin’ along much better lately,” Timothy said. “But that nasty weather we had last night completely ruined my corn crop.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. It’s supposed to be dry the rest of this week, and there’s even going to be a full moon. Would you like me to help you plant more corn?”
Timothy shook his head. “You’re busy enough, and so am I. After talking things over with Hannah, I’ve decided to forget about trying to grow more corn this year. Might even consider leasing some of the land next year so I don’t have so much to take care of. For now, though, I think I’ll just concentrate on our jobs and on getting the rest of the things done at my house that still need to be taken care of.”
“Are you sure? I’d be happy to help if you want me to.”
“No, that’s all right. You and Esther will be getting married in a few weeks, and you’re gonna be busy preparing for that.”
“I can’t believe it’s finally going to happen.” Samuel grinned and thumped Timothy’s back. “Won’t it be great to have most of our family here for the wedding?”
Timothy nodded. “It’ll be good to see everyone again.”
“Esther talked with her folks the other day, and they’re planning to be here, too. It’s going to be a great time.”
Hannah swatted at a pesky fly. She’d been working in the garden all morning while keeping an eye on Mindy, who was squatted in the grass nearby, picking dandelions. It was hot and humid, but the rustle of grass gave Hannah some hope that the wind might bring relief from the muggy weather. She guessed this kind of weather was better than the awful storm they’d had last night. As much as they’d needed some rain, they hadn’t wanted that much. Hannah knew how hard Timothy had worked planting the corn, and she felt bad when he’d told her that it had been ruined. Well, some things couldn’t be helped. They’d just have to try again next year or think about leasing some of the acreage out like they’d discussed.
Maybe this afternoon I’ll bake that Kentucky chocolate chip pie I’ve been wanting to try, she decided. It might cheer Timothy up when he comes home to a dessert that I’m almost sure he’ll enjoy.
Hannah glanced at Mindy, who had moved closer to the house. My little girl is growing so much, and she’s so full of curiosity. I hope Mom and Dad can come for a visit soon. They’re missing so much by not being able to see all the little things Mindy does.
Hannah leaned her hoe against the fence and headed for the house. Like it or not, it was time to start lunch. Her bare feet burned as she hobbled across the gravel but found relief as soon as she stepped onto the cool grass.
“It’s time to go in for lunch,” Hannah said to Mindy. “After that, Mama’s going to bake a pie.”
Mindy looked up with a sweet expression and extended her hand, revealing one of the dandelions she’d picked earlier. “Der bliehe.” Apparently she didn’t care about pie today.
“Jah, I see the flower. Leave it on the porch and come into the house with me now.” Hannah opened the door and held it for Mindy. The child, still clutching the dandelion, trotted into the house.
Hannah washed her hands at the kitchen sink and took out a loaf of bread for sandwiches. While she was spreading peanut butter, a fly buzzed noisily overhead. It was hot in the kitchen, and Hannah fanned her face with one hand while swatting at the bothersome insect with the other. Would she spend the whole summer killing bugs and trying to find a way to stay cool? Of course, the reason there were flies in the house was because she’d opened the upstairs windows this morning, trying to get some ventilation.
Mindy tromped into the kitchen and tugged on Hannah’s apron. “Der bliehe,” she said, showing Hannah the dandelion she still held in her hand.
Hannah, feeling a bit annoyed, said, “Mindy, I want you to go to the living room and play until I call you for lunch.”
Mindy gave Hannah’s apron another tug. “Der bliehe.”
“Not now, Mindy! Just do as I say and go to the living room.”
Mindy’s lower lip protruded as she turned and left the room.
Bzz…bzz … Hannah gritted her teeth as the irksome fly kept buzzing around her head. Finally, in exasperation, she grabbed the newspaper Timothy had left on the counter last night, waited until the fly landed on the table, and gave it a good whack.
“That’s one less thing I have to deal with right now,” she said, scooping the fly up with the paper and tossing it in the garbage can.
Hannah went to the sink and wet a sponge. Then she quickly wiped the table where the fly had landed and went back to finishing the sandwiches she’d started.
When their lunch was ready, Hannah went to the living room to get Mindy. The child wasn’t there. She opened the front door and looked into the yard but saw no sign of Mindy there either.
I wonder if she went upstairs to her room.
Hannah hurried up the stairs, and when she entered Mindy’s bedroom, she spotted the child’s favorite doll lying on the floor under the window. Then her gaze went to the open window. Now, the once-broken screen was no longer there.
With her heart pounding, Hannah moved slowly forward, while her brain told her to sto
p. She felt cold as ice as she approached the window. She held her breath as her gaze moved from the horizon, down to the yard below. She already knew what she would see but prayed it wouldn’t be so. Mindy lay on the ground in a contorted position. She wasn’t moving.
Hannah dashed down the stairs and out the front door, her fear mounting and making it hard to breathe. When she reached Mindy, she noticed that her daughter still held the shriveled-up dandelion she’d tried to give Hannah only a short time ago.
Hannah dropped onto the grass and checked for a pulse, but there was none. Stricken with fear such as she’d never known, Hannah raced for the phone shanty to call for help, while whispering a desperate prayer, “Please, God, don’t let our precious Mindy be dead.”
CHAPTER 41
Trisha had just started baking some bread when the telephone rang. She wiped her floury hands on a clean towel and picked up the receiver. “Hello. Bonnie’s Bed-and-Breakfast.”
“Hey, Trisha. It’s Bonnie.”
“Oh, it’s so good to hear from you!” Trisha sighed with relief. “Your dad and I have both tried calling you and Allen, but all we ever got was your voice mail. We’ve been worried about you two ever since we heard about a helicopter crash on Kauai. Your dad was afraid you might have been on that ‘copter, but thank goodness, you obviously weren’t, and I’m so relieved.”
“Yes, it’s been all over the news, and it was a terrible tragedy. Allen and I might have been on the helicopter had we not decided to go on a boat cruise instead. I’m so sorry we made you worry. I lost my cell phone on the beach, and the battery in Allen’s phone was dead and wouldn’t recharge. So he got a new battery this morning. And I never did find my cell phone but decided to wait until we get home to buy a new one.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. Have you called your dad yet to let him know you’re all right?”
“Yes, I did, and he was thankful to hear from me.”
“The last time Ken and I talked, I told him that I was sure we’d have heard if something tragic had happened to you and Allen.” Trisha took a seat at the desk that held the phone. “Speaking of tragedies, we had one in this community three days ago.”
“What happened?” Bonnie asked.
Even though she’d only known the people in this community for a short time, Trisha struggled to convey the news and explain about Mindy’s death without breaking down.
“Oh no, that’s terrible! I can’t imagine how Timothy and Hannah must feel.” Bonnie paused before continuing. “Have they had the funeral yet? I wish we could be there for it.”
“Her funeral is today, but I’m not going because I don’t know the family that well and wasn’t sure if I’d be welcome.”
Trisha could hear Bonnie sniffling.
“I hope this hasn’t ruined your honeymoon,” Trisha said. “I thought you should know so you can be praying for Mindy’s family.”
“Yes, we’ll definitely do that.”
“Oh, and some of Timothy’s relatives are staying here at the B&B since there wasn’t enough room at all the brothers’ homes for everyone who came.”
“I’m glad you had the rooms available. Oh, and Trisha, please let them know that there will be no charge for the rooms. It’s the least I can do to help out during this difficult time.”
“That’s very generous of you. I’ll let them know.” Trisha paused then quickly added, “Try to relax and have a good time during the rest of your honeymoon, okay?”
“Yes, we will, though it won’t be easy. It’s so hard to believe Mindy is dead, but thank you so much for letting us know.”
Hannah, dressed in black mourning clothes, stood in front of a small wooden coffin in shock and disbelief. The body of the little girl inside that box just couldn’t be her precious daughter. It wasn’t possible that they were saying their final good-byes. Hannah’s eyes burned like hot coals. She wished this was just a horrible nightmare. But as hard as she tried to deny it, she knew Mindy was gone.
Over and over, Hannah had replayed the horrible event that had taken place three days ago. Looking out Mindy’s bedroom window and seeing her daughter’s body on the ground below had nearly been Hannah’s undoing. After she’d gone to the phone shanty to call for help, she’d returned to Mindy and stayed there until the paramedics came. Hannah, though clinging to the hope that it might not be true, had known even before help arrived that Mindy was gone. Yet in her desperation, she’d continued to pray for a miracle—asking the Lord to bring Mindy back to life the way He had the little girl whose death was recorded in Matthew 9.
If God could do miracles back then, why not now? Hannah asked herself as she gazed at Mindy’s lifeless body. But Hannah’s pleas were for nothing. Mindy was dead, and God could have prevented it from happening—and so could Timothy. If only he had put in those screens when I asked him to. A deep sense of bitterness welled in Hannah’s soul. If Mindy hadn’t fallen through that broken screen, she would still be alive—running, laughing, playing, picking dandelions.
Her stomach tightened as she thought about the comment their bishop’s wife had made when she and the bishop had come to their house for the viewing. “I guess our dear Lord must have needed another angel.”
He shouldn’t have taken my angel! I needed Mindy more than He did. Hannah lowered her head into the palms of her hands and wept.
“It’s time for us to go the cemetery now,” Timothy said, touching Hannah’s arm.
Hannah didn’t budge. I don’t want to go. I don’t want to watch as my only child is put in the cold, hard ground.
Hannah’s mother stepped between them and slipped her arm around Hannah’s waist. “Everyone’s waiting outside for us, Hannah. We need to go now.”
Hannah, not trusting her voice, could only nod and be led away on shaky legs. How thankful she was for Mom’s support. Without it, she would have collapsed.
Outside, a sea of faces swam before Hannah’s blurry eyes—her brothers and their families, Timothy’s parents and most of his family, as well as many from their community. Most were already seated in their horse-drawn buggies, preparing to follow the hearse that would take Mindy’s body to the cemetery. A few people remained outside their buggies waiting to go.
Hannah shuddered. She’d attended several funerals, but none had been for a close family member. To lose anyone was horrible, but to lose her own child was unbearable—the worst possible pain. Hannah feared she might die from a broken heart and actually wished that she could. It would be better than going through the rest of her life without Mindy. Yes, Hannah would welcome the Angel of Death right now if he came knocking at her door.
Once Hannah’s parents had taken seats in the back of the buggy, Hannah numbly took her place up front beside Timothy. She blinked, trying to clear the film of tears clouding her vision, and leaned heavily against the seat. Oh, how her arms ached to hold her beloved daughter and make everything right. If only there was some way she could undo the past.
As the buggy headed down the road toward the cemetery, the hooves of the horse were little more than a plodding walk. Even Dusty, who was usually quite spirited, must have sensed this was a solemn occasion.
When they arrived at the cemetery, Hannah sat in the buggy until the pallbearers removed Mindy’s casket from the hearse and carried it to the grave site. Then she and all the others followed.
After everyone had gathered around the grave, the bishop read a hymn while the coffin was lowered and the grave filled in by the pallbearers. With each shovelful of dirt, Hannah sank deeper into despair, until her heart felt as if it were frozen.
Even though Hannah hadn’t actually spoken the words, Timothy knew she blamed him for Mindy’s death. Truth was, he blamed himself, too. If only he’d taken the time to replace the screens, the horrible accident that had taken their child’s life would not have happened. If he could just go back and change the past, they wouldn’t be standing in the cemetery right now saying their final good-byes.
A lump formed in Timothy’s
throat as he tried to focus on the words of the hymn their bishop was reading: “ ‘Ah, good night to those I love so; Good night to my heart’s desire; Good night to those hearts full of woe; Out of love they weep distressed. Tho’ I from you pass away; In the grave you lay my clay; I will rise again securely, Greet you in eternity.’ ”
Timothy glanced at his parents and saw Mom’s shoulders shake as she struggled with her emotions. Dad looked pale as he put his arm around her.
Timothy looked at Hannah’s parents and saw Sally sniffing as she swiped at the tears running down her cheeks. Johnny stood beside her with a pained expression.
Nearly everyone from Timothy and Hannah’s families had come for the funeral, and each of their somber faces revealed the depth of their compassion and regret over the loss of Mindy. Do they all think I’m responsible for Mindy’s death? he wondered. I wouldn’t blame them if they did.
Timothy’s gaze came to rest on Hannah. Her face looked drawn, with dark circles beneath her eyes. She hadn’t slept much in the last three days, and when she had gone to bed, she had slept in Mindy’s room—probably out of a need to somehow feel closer to her. Timothy missed having Hannah beside him at night, for he desperately needed her comfort. If she could just find it in her heart to forgive him, perhaps he might be able to forgive himself.
The bishop’s reading finally ended, and everyone bowed their heads to silently pray the Lord’s Prayer. Timothy noticed how the veins on Hannah’s hands protruded as she clasped her hands tightly together and bowed her head. He suspected she was only going through the motions of praying, because that’s what he was doing. What he really wanted to do was look up at the sky and shout, “Dear God: How could You have taken our only child? Don’t You care how much we miss her?”
When the prayer ended, most of the mourners moved away from the grave site, but Hannah remained, hands clasped, rocking back and forth on her heels.
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