by Amy Lillard
“Where’s Mamm?” Hannah asked.
“Changing her apron.”
The knock sounded once again. It hadn’t been that long since the first knock, so Hannah could only assume that he could hear them talking through the thick wood.
Of course. “You don’t want to answer it?” Hannah asked.
The knock sounded again, louder this time, the reverberations almost accusatory.
“Hannah, really. Let the poor man in.”
“Fine.” Hannah all but flounced to the door and flung it open. But her momentum abruptly ended as she saw him standing there.
“Aaron,” she breathed. Okay, if she was being honest with herself, she might be more than a little in love with him. But what Amish girl in her right mind wouldn’t be?
“Hi.” He gave a quick nod of his head. His son hovered to one side and slightly behind the rest of the family, while both girls stood demurely in front of their father. “I know we’re early. We had an errand to run but it didn’t take as long as we thought and there’s not enough time to go home and then back . . .” His voice trailed off, and a flush of pink stained his cheeks. Could it be that he was as aware of her as she was of him? Or was he simply uncomfortable? She might not ever know.
“Hannah, are you going to invite them in?” Gracie asked.
“Oh.” She hopped back and opened the door a little wider, moving to one side so everyone could enter. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard Gracie chuckle.
“Aaron.” Mamm bustled in from the back of the house. Her cheeks were still pink from the heat in the kitchen, her eyes bright and her apron clean. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
She greeted the kids in turn, talking to each one of them almost as a grandparent would do.
“Go ahead and have a seat,” Mamm offered. “Supper will be on the table in just a few minutes.”
Laura Kate took a giant step forward, her hands politely behind her back. “Is there anything I can do to help, Eunice?”
Her mother smiled, that beaming, proud smile such as a grandparent would wear. And it occurred to Hannah in that moment that her parents were very close to Aaron and his children.
What did you expect? You left. He stayed. And in a community the size of Pontotoc, close was the only way to be.
“No, child. But danki.” Mamm patted Laura Kate on the shoulder, then turned away and hustled back into the kitchen.
Hannah nodded toward the couch in the living room. “Go ahead and have a seat. I’ll just go help Mamm.”
Gracie took a step forward, effectively blocking Hannah’s escape to the kitchen. “Oh, no, you go ahead and sit with Aaron. And his children. I’ll go help your mother.”
The whole thing smacked of a setup. But how could that be? Hannah had done her best to make her intentions clear, even as muddy as they were. She didn’t know what she was going to do, but she couldn’t imagine returning to Pontotoc, donning her Amish clothes for the rest of her life, and remaining there. It wasn’t that the idea was repulsive—it just seemed so out of reach. Like the choice that she had already made she couldn’t come back from. The choice she’d made had led her down a road so long she could never circle back and be the girl she was before.
Hannah murmured something inconsequential and led the way to the living room. The children settled down on the sofa while Aaron hovered at the window. Hannah herself perched on the hard wooden rocking chair where her mother spent nearly every evening, sewing, crocheting, or reading the Bible. Sometimes all three.
“So, Andy,” Hannah started. “How old are you?”
Andy shifted uncomfortably in his place on the sofa and cleared his throat. “Twelve. Almost thirteen.”
Hannah smiled, trying to put the boy at ease. “I have a son just about your age.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He pushed on his pant legs even as he sat on the couch and shifted once more.
“But you don’t have any girls?” Essie asked.
Hannah shook her head. “No, I wasn’t fortunate enough to have a girl.” She had wanted one. How she had wanted a precious baby girl. But that hadn’t been in the cards for her. If she had remained Amish, she might have said that it wasn’t God’s will. But there were times when God’s will seemed so far removed from her life she wasn’t certain of it at all. Not anymore, anyway.
Laura Kate nodded solemnly. “That’s too bad. Girls are fun.”
Andy rolled his eyes, but didn’t make a sound.
“We don’t have a mamm,” Essie explained.
“I’m sorry,” Hannah replied, not knowing what else to say.
Then Essie’s face lit up like fireworks on the Fourth of July. “I know. We don’t have a mamm, and you don’t have a daughter. Wouldn’t it be great if you could be our mamm?”
Aaron nearly choked. He coughed, cleared his throat, and coughed again. Hannah seriously wished he would get control of himself and help her with a suitable answer for that one.
“It doesn’t work that way,” Laura Kate said with a frown. Hannah could see her mulling over the situation in her head, trying to find some way for this to work out.
Essie sat back on the couch and stuck out her bottom lip. “That’s too bad.”
“Yes,” Hannah murmured. It really was. Essie’s idea was simple and pure, but unfortunately that was not how the world worked.
“Okay, everybody. Come on,” Gracie called from the doorway. She moved past them to the door. She stepped out on the porch before clanging the triangle to tell the rest of the Gingerich men that food was ready.
Everyone piled into the kitchen. Chairs scraped and silverware rustled as everyone settled in around the table. They had no more settled in before her dat and her brother David bustled in.
“Where’s Jim?”
Mamm set the last bowl of steaming hot vegetables on the table and took her place next to Dat. “He and Anna were afraid we wouldn’t have enough room.” She shook her head as if to say there was always room. But even with Tillie missing, the table was crowded.
Hannah looked around at her family and friends, old and new. So many times in her marriage to Mitch she had eaten supper all alone, having fed Brandon and put him to bed before having her own meal.
So many times. Too many times. And through all those years she missed this . . . this controlled chaos that was a big family dinner.
Tears filled her eyes at the thought. She blinked them back and lowered her head as everyone began the silent prayer.
She still hadn’t managed to talk to God, but it was almost as if she could feel Him there, hovering around, laying His hands on their shoulders to assure them that all was right and good.
But was it?
She didn’t know. Just a few days in Pontotoc and she was already confused. Like she didn’t come with enough baggage already. But oh, how she had missed this.
There was rustling around the table as everyone lifted their heads and started to serve their plates. She blinked once more to dismiss the tears and lifted her head with a smile. These were happy times, not sad. A fresh time. A start over. There was no room for indecision, there was no room for confusion. She had time to think about what she was going to do. But really there was no choice at all. She would get the settlement from her husband’s estate and start over with Brandon. But maybe this time she would stay closer. Tupelo was beginning to have more and more appeal. And maybe then, these dinners would always be a part of her life.
* * *
Aaron had to admit that Eunice Gingerich was one of the best cooks in the whole community. But that wasn’t the only reason why he had accepted the dinner invitation. He glanced up and over to his left, where Hannah sat between Gracie and David.
Why, after all this time, did he still feel she was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen? Even with her Englisch haircut and in her Englisch clothes, even through all of that, he could see the Hannah he knew long ago. All that was missing was the spark in her eyes. So long ago she had had such a zest for life, living and
enjoying each moment for just what it was. He’d known that she had questions about the Englisch world and what was going on outside their tiny, close-knit community, but he had never thought she would pick up and leave. Never dreamed that she would go without a word, not a note, no call, nothing to let him know where she was or when she would return. Abandoned was too nice of a word for how he felt. It was worse than that. So much worse.
But even through all the pain that she had caused him, all the pain he had endured from loving someone who loved him back but not enough to stay, he cared for her still. Was it love? He didn’t know. But the thought of seeing her again made his heart soar. His step was lighter just knowing that he could bump into her in town, on the road, here at her home where he was working to help her father. Just knowing that she was closer brought a smile to his lips.
Apparently he hadn’t learned anything from the hurt she had inflicted, so maybe it was love. Didn’t they say love was blind? He took that to mean that love wasn’t always logical. And it wasn’t logical that he would feel this way for her even after fifteen years, after marrying another and having those three beautiful children seated next to him. Even through all that, there was Hannah.
He nodded at something Abner said, only half paying attention to the conversation floating around him. He scooped up a bite of roast and allowed his attention to settle on Brandon, Hannah’s son.
He was a fine-looking boy, the image of his mother through and through, though the set of his jaw and the cut of his chin were a little different. The legacy of his father? What kind of man had Hannah loved? He’d heard rumors around town that Hannah’s husband had been unfaithful and had not been an honest man, but Aaron couldn’t imagine Hannah with someone like that. Yes, she had a spark for life; yes, she had been a tad unruly; and yes, she was her own person, but Aaron couldn’t imagine her falling in love with someone untrue. There was too much good in her to allow it. So why? Why had she stayed with the man all these years? Didn’t the Englisch get divorced when things didn’t work out?
But could he really call Hannah Englisch? Jah, she had lived with them for fifteen years or better, but she’d been raised Amish, and some things just couldn’t be un-learned. Maybe the sanctity of marriage was one of those.
“Don’t you think?” Gracie asked.
Aaron jerked his attention up to Hannah’s cousin. He’d been caught daydreaming, lost in his own thoughts and oblivious to the conversation going on around him.
“What was that?” He cleared his throat and took a drink of his water.
“Sarah Hostetler.”
He really needed to pay attention. “What about her?”
Sarah had been recently widowed and had three small children to take care of. Talk around the community was that she was opening a candy shop in hopes of attracting Englisch visitors and Amish alike.
“I was just saying that Mary Hostetler, her cousin, has a work frolic planned for Monday afternoon,” Gracie said. “They need some more men to come out and help hang shelves and make sure all the plumbing works correctly.”
She didn’t need to say any more for him to understand the question. “I’d love to help, but I can only stay a little while. I need to be home when the kids get off from school.” Normally Andy could watch the girls, but lately had become so sullen that Aaron felt the need to stay close to home.
Gracie beamed at him. “That’s okay, we’re planning this for the afternoon so more of the men can help.”
“The kids . . . ?” he started, knowing the excuse would be brushed aside in a heartbeat.
“They can come here.” Eunice smiled as if she’d come up with the idea of the century. “Once they get home, hitch up your buggy and bring them over here. Then you young people can all go together.”
Why did he feel so desperate to get out of this one? It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help Sarah Hostetler, but he surely didn’t want to spend so much time with Hannah.
That wasn’t exactly the truth either. He wanted to spend more and more time with Hannah, and the more time he wanted to spend with her, the more dangerous he realized she was. But he hadn’t been raised that way. He had been raised to help when it was needed, and his excuse, although it had been almost good, was now wiped clean. There was no reason for him not to go to Sarah Hostetler’s with Gracie and Hannah come Monday afternoon.
“Jah, okay.” He hoped his tone sounded more eager to them than it did to his own ears. He flashed a quick smile, hoping that would make up for his lack of enthusiasm.
Eunice sat back in her chair and crossed her hands over her middle, a self-satisfied smile curving at the corners of her mouth. “What a fine idea,” she chirped. “What a fine idea indeed.”
* * *
The sun was beginning to fall in the August sky. Dinner was over, dessert had been served, and the kids had gone out to play with Jim and Anna’s children. All seemed right with the world. But Hannah knew how looks could be deceiving. She stepped outside, needing a breath of fresh air to clear her thoughts.
She couldn’t say she was exactly upset at the thought of being shanghaied into helping with Sarah Hostetler’s new candy shop. In fact, she didn’t mind at all. But Gracie’s overt attempts at pushing Hannah and Aaron together were barely more than she could stand. And with her mom’s efforts added in . . .
She rounded the corner of the house, where she had seen Aaron disappear just a few moments before. She spied him then, standing by the goat pen, pail in hand, pipe clenched between his teeth. The sight of smoke curling up from the pipe caused her to misstep. She never thought about it much, but nearly every man she knew in Pontotoc smoked a pipe. There were a few who didn’t, but most did. Where the Englisch men had all given up their tobacco and were encouraged daily to do so, the Amish man here still enjoyed a little smoke from time to time. Why should Aaron be any different?
She steadied her feet and kept going. Aaron was alone, and she needed to talk to him. It was now or never.
He must’ve heard the rustle of her feet in the grass. He turned, even as he dumped the bucket’s contents into the goat pen. The goats bleated and called to him as if asking for more even when what he had given them hadn’t been eaten. Silly beasts.
“Hannah?” He set the bucket on the ground and took the pipe from between his teeth. “What are you doing out here?”
She stopped, mere feet from him, and shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans. Suddenly she wanted to trace the curve of his cheekbone, feel the wiriness of his beard, both of which were completely off-limits. But as long as she kept her hands occupied . . .
“I came out here to talk to you.”
Now why did that sound so ominous?
“Jah?”
Where to begin? She sucked in a deep breath, hoping the words would come in with the oxygen. Sadly, they didn’t. “I think Gracie and Mamm are trying to set us up.” There. She’d said it. But now that the words were out in the open, they sounded more ridiculous than she could have ever imagined. Inside her head they had sounded almost logical, but now . . . Not hardly.
“Set us up?”
“You know, like trying to get us together.”
Aaron shook his head. “I know what you mean. I just don’t understand why you think that.”
“Gracie inviting you to the work frolic. Mamm offering to keep the kids for you.”
“You inviting me to dinner?”
“That’s different.”
He nodded, though his eyes twinkled with a light she couldn’t quite discern.
“I think they’re trying to get me to stay,” Hannah said. She hadn’t wanted to admit those words out loud either. But there they were.
“You mean in Pontotoc?”
“Yes. With the Amish.”
Aaron closed one eye, as he did when he was thinking. “Are you saying you think that they are trying to get you and me together so that you’ll stay in Pontotoc?”
She shook her head. “I know it sounds dumb. Forget I said anythi
ng.”
“No, it’s okay.”
She started to turn away, but he grabbed her arm. Her skin tingled where his fingers touched her. It’d always been that way. He could talk about taking her hand, and it was as if she could feel the touch before it even came. That was the sort of connection they’d had at one time. Still had.
“I thought it was just me imagining things.” He chuckled.
“I don’t think so.”
“They love you very much.”
“I know.” And she loved them in return. But staying in Pontotoc was just not possible. Not really. And she couldn’t imagine it any other way. “I just thought you should know.”
“Thanks for the heads-up.”
She looked down at his fingers, still wrapped around her arm, then back up to his face.
“Oh.” He released her as if he had only realized then that he still had ahold of her.
The breeze felt cool to her skin, heated from his touch.
“What do we do about it?” Aaron asked.
“This is my mother and my cousin we’re talking about here. And probably Tillie too.”
Aaron laughed and gave a quick nod. “Right. Not much we can do, is there?”
“No.” Hannah returned his smile. “But as long as we know what we’re in for.”
“Right,” Aaron said again. “Then we should be just fine.”
“I just didn’t want you to not spend any time with me because you knew they were trying to set us up.”
“I do want to spend time with you.” His blue eyes deepened, and the sheer color made her mouth go dry. She had to get herself together. This was Aaron, and that ship had sailed a long time ago. They had agreed to be friends, agreed to spend some time together, and agreed to catch up on the last fifteen years before she left again. There was no more to it than that. No matter what her cousin and her mother wanted.
Hannah nodded, and together they started back toward the house. “Thanks for coming to supper tonight. I had a good time.”
He gave a quick nod. “Thanks for inviting me.”
And just like that, they were back to awkward again. One minute they had been enjoying each other’s company as easy as anything, and now it seemed as if a huge wall had been wedged between them, an emotional wall that neither could breach.