by Jo Ann Brown
Jeremiah didn’t say anything for several minutes, and the only sound was the hammer driving nails into the wood.
Daniel waited, knowing his brother must have something else to say if he’d come over to the house.
“When are you seeing her again?” Jeremiah asked as if there hadn’t been a break in the conversation.
“I’m seeing her and Shelby the day after tomorrow. Shelby has an appointment for a checkup at the clinic in town, and the little girl refuses to cooperate with Hannah.”
“And she does with you?”
He gave his brother a wry smile. “Ja.”
“That doesn’t make sense.” Jeremiah held up his hands to forestall Daniel’s reply. “You don’t need to answer. I know what you’re going to say. When did any woman, no matter her age, make sense to a man?”
“I wasn’t going to say that.”
“No?” His brother laughed, at ease in the unfinished house in a way that he wasn’t around a crowd of people. “If so, it’s the first time you haven’t said that.”
Daniel wanted to shoot back a sharp reply, but he couldn’t. Not when Jeremiah was right. He’d said those words more times than he could count. Each time, he’d meant them.
So why wasn’t he saying them tonight?
Two reasons: Hannah Lambright and her little sister, Shelby. They’d invaded his thoughts, and he couldn’t shake them loose. He shouldn’t feel responsible for Shelby because he’d discovered her on the Lambrights’ porch, but he did. And, as for Hannah, he shouldn’t feel...however he felt. He wasn’t sure what to call the morass of emotions bubbling through him whenever he thought of her or spoke with her.
But he was sure of one thing. He needed to get those feelings sorted out before he saw her again.
* * *
Hannah sat at the kitchen table and worked on the equipment she’d need for moving the bees. She’d thought about doing a load of laundry before Shelby and her great-grandmother woke, but rain was falling steadily.
She hoped the day after tomorrow would be dry and cool. If the bees on the covered bridge were cold, they’d cling to the center of the hive and be unlikely to swarm. She must prevent a swarm. Once the queen took it in her mind to leave, the rest of the bees would follow. They might fly to the next opening in the boards beneath the bridge. The current hive wasn’t difficult for her to reach, but farther out along the bridge would make it impossible. And it must not be raining when she moved the bees. Removing them from the safety of their hive in the rain could mean some drowning in the open super she’d use to carry them away from the bridge.
Reaching for another of the rectangular frames she’d used for the honeycomb, Hannah glanced out the window at her pair of hives farther up the hill toward the stone barn. She didn’t keep them close to the house, because Grossmammi Ella was scared of being stung.
The bees would start emerging soon. Nothing was blooming, so they had no work. If the rain stopped and the weather grew sunny, the bees would try to keep busy anyhow. She must make sure they had food in the hive so they wouldn’t starve before they could start gathering pollen and nectar.
Looking at the frames on the table in front of her, she smiled. She’d checked each one to make sure it was in gut condition. If Daniel made the supers to her specifications, she could hook the pieces of comb onto the frames with rubber bands and set them in the boxes. The bees would take care of the rest, hooking the comb into place.
A piece of mesh was in the center of the table. She’d place it at the bottom of the hive, so debris could fall from the hive out onto the ground. She had everything she needed other than the supers.
Her hands stilled on the stack of frames. Had she been a complete fool to agree to help Daniel in exchange for him teaching her about taking care of Shelby?
Give to him that asketh thee, and from him that would borrow of thee turn not thou away. The verse from Matthew echoed inside her mind.
She’d done the right thing to accept Daniel’s suggestion of a barter, but it wasn’t easy to see him day after day, because each conversation was another reminder of how he’d dumped her without a backward glance. She appreciated how he’d offered to help her take Shelby to the doktorfraa. The kind had screamed every time Hannah came near her yesterday until Grossmammi Ella had begun to complain. Tears had led to another night with no sleep. Now, her great-grandmother and the toddler were asleep, so Hannah had time to gather what she needed for the bees’ removal.
A noise came from upstairs. The sound of Shelby’s crib creaking against the floor. The little girl must be awake.
Gathering the frames and mesh, Hannah set them beside her sewing machine. She hurried up the stairs and into the kind’s room. A bed draped with a quilt was pushed against the wall to leave room in the middle for the crib Hannah had used as a boppli.
For once, the little girl didn’t shriek at the sight of her. Instead, she cried silent sobs. Her left cheek was swollen, and she kept pulling at the side of her mouth. When the kind started to make her gibberish sounds, Hannah noticed a swelling on her left lower gum.
“Oh, you poor little girl,” she murmured. “You’re teething, ain’t so?”
She cuddled Shelby close with the toddler’s right cheek against her shoulder. Carrying her downstairs, she went into the kitchen. She kept Shelby balanced on her hip while opening a cupboard and taking out a bottle of honey.
“Let’s try this.” She dipped her finger into the open bottle and rubbed a little bit of honey on Shelby’s gum.
The kind started to pull away, then paused as the sweet flavor soothed her. Or maybe the honey had already eased the pain. Hannah wasn’t sure, but Amos Stoltzfus, Daniel’s brother who owned the grocery store, had mentioned several times he’d been asked by a mamm for honey to help with her boppli’s teething.
Carrying the little girl into the living room, Hannah sat in the rocking chair and brushed Shelby’s sweaty bangs off her forehead. Hannah crooned a wordless tune as the little girl faded into a deep slumber. For the first time since her arrival at the house, Shelby didn’t fight going to sleep.
What a wunderbaar bundle the toddler was in her arms! Hannah hadn’t realized, at some moment after Daniel had dumped her and her great-grandmother demanded so much of her attention, she’d relinquished the thought of having kinder. When she was younger, she’d dreamed of a house filled with a large family. It’d been lonely being an only kind when her classmates had had lots of siblings. She’d watched them together and wondered what it would be like to have sisters and brothers. Almost until the day her mamm had died, she’d prayed the Lord would bless her family with more bopplin. She’d longed to be the older sister, teaching the little ones to walk and to talk and to play.
God had brought Shelby into her life, and it was Hannah’s duty to help the toddler learn to become a gut member of their community. This special kind was already a blessing.
Maybe, after this morning, the little girl would stop crying whenever Hannah was near. If only it could be that easy!
Hopes of Shelby trusting her vanished as soon as the toddler awoke and began crying the moment her eyes opened. She looked away as Hannah stood and went to the kitchen to get the honey to ease the toddler’s teething pain.
“The boppli sounds hungry,” Grossmammi Ella said after Hannah had spread the honey on Shelby’s gum again. The old woman walked to the stove with a determination Hannah hadn’t seen in months. “I’ll make her some fried mush. My kinder loved it, and my kins-kinder loved it more.”
“We’ve been blessed to have you in the kitchen.” Hannah stifled a yawn as she set a fussy Shelby in the high chair. The honey seemed to be doing the trick again because the toddler’s screeches had eased to soft whimpers. “Do you want me to measure out the cornmeal?”
Her great-grandmother waved aside her suggestion. “If after all these yea
rs of cooking for three generations I can’t figure out how to much cornmeal to put in for fried mush, I should give up my apron.”
Hannah laughed hard, surprising herself. How long had it been since she’d given in to laughter, letting it surge through her and leaving her awash with happiness? She didn’t want to know, because it’d been far too long.
As she worked side by side with her great-grandmother as she’d done since she was ten, she reveled in the simple joys of being with her beloved Grossmammi Ella when the old woman’s mind was in the present instead of lost in the past. Seeing the twinkle in her great-grandmother’s eyes when Grossmammi Ella put a piece of fried mush in front of Shelby, Hannah drizzled honey on top of the serving. Not only should the sweetness delight the kind, but the additional honey might coat her gum and keep her pain away.
“Look at her eat!” Grossmammi Ella crowed as she brought two more servings of delicious fried cornbread to the table. “I told you she was hungry.”
“So you did.” Hannah’s smile broadened. “I appreciate your making breakfast.”
“That’s kind of you to say, Saloma.”
As her great-grandmother began to pour honey on her fried mush, Hannah turned away. She didn’t want Grossmammi Ella to see her smile vanish. Saloma was Hannah’s mamm. Addressing Hannah by her mamm’s name was a sign the old woman was slipping away into her memories of the past.
The blessed moments of being a family, something Hannah realized she hadn’t treasured enough when she was part of them, came less and less often. Her hope Grossmammi Ella would return to the present faded as the meal went on and her great-grandmother continued to call her Saloma.
Though the fried cornmeal probably was delicious, it tasted like grit in Hannah’s mouth. Somehow, she forced it down. When her great-grandmother was finished, Hannah assisted her to the chair by the window in the living room.
A quick knock was answered, before Hannah could react, by Grossmammi Ella calling, “Komm in!”
When Daniel walked in, Hannah’s breath caught. Why did he have to be so handsome? Even the cleft in his chin, which she knew he loathed, eased the stark line of his jaw. His ebony hair and bright blue eyes had held her attention from the first time she’d seen him. However, his hands fascinated her. Work-hardened, his broad fingers were gentle on the reins and one time he’d squeezed her hand out of everyone else’s sight. Her skin tingled at the memory of the night when she’d dared to believe she’d found the love of her life.
The night before everything had fallen apart...
She pushed aside thoughts of the past and wondered again how her great-grandmother could prefer what had been to what was. Raising her chin, she asked, “Daniel, what are you doing here today? Shelby’s appointment at the clinic isn’t until tomorrow.”
“I know. I came because I brought along the supers you need and—” Past the open door came the rattle of buggy wheels followed by a car door slamming.
From her chair by the window, Grossmammi Ella crowed, “Here comes the bishop! Hurry, Hannah! Put on the kaffi pot and get out some cookies. You know Reuben has a sweet tooth.” She paused and asked in a sharper tone, “Who is that man with him?”
Hannah drew in a sharp breath. A car with Paradise Springs Police Department painted on the door was parked in front of the house.
Cold sank through her as the door opened again, but she bit her lip to keep from letting her dismay erupt. The Englisch chief of police entered the house with Reuben Lapp. She’d seen Steven McMurray at auctions and other events, but had never spoken to him.
After leaving his hat on the newel post at the bottom of the stairs, the chief of police greeted her and her great-grandmother with a kind smile. He was out of place in a plain home with his uniform of a dark blue shirt and black pants and shiny badge. The room abruptly seemed too full with the bishop and two tall, muscular men in it.
“I prayed on the matter,” Reuben said, “and I feel the right decision is to ask for help from the police to find your daed. I hope you agree, Hannah.”
Instead of answering, she motioned toward the kitchen. “Would you like to meet Shelby? She’s finishing her breakfast.”
“Do you think it’ll frighten her if we all go into the kitchen?” Reuben asked.
“I don’t know.” Her smile wobbled. “She doesn’t know us.”
Her words were contradicted when Shelby gave an excited squeal and held her arms out to Daniel. She began babbling as if she believed he could understand every sound she made.
He walked over to the high chair. “Are you enjoying your breakfast, liebling?”
“You called her liebling,” Grossmammi Ella said softly. “That’s what my husband called me.”
Chief McMurray smiled again at her great-grandmother before he said, “I’m assuming this is Shelby.”
At her name, the little girl looked toward him with wide eyes.
“Hello there, Shelby.” The big man sat beside the toddler, so he wasn’t towering over her.
Hannah couldn’t help being impressed at how the policeman spoke quietly and kept a smile on his face. He was making every effort to keep the little girl calm.
But why was the kind who might be her little sister smiling at a stranger when she recoiled from Hannah?
Shelby offered a tiny piece of the cornmeal mush to the chief of police.
He took it and pretended to eat it. “Danki.”
Shelby tipped her head to one side in obvious bafflement.
“Thank you, Shelby,” the police chief said before half turning toward Hannah. “She doesn’t understand Deitsch?”
“I don’t think so,” she said. “I don’t know if my daed speaks it to her. He didn’t say in his note.”
“I’d appreciate seeing that note. The basket, too.”
“I’ll get them.” She hurried upstairs to Shelby’s room and opened the closet. Checking the wrinkled note was in the basket, she carried them downstairs. She wasn’t surprised Grossmammi Ella had joined the others in the kitchen. Her great-grandmother wouldn’t want to miss the excitement.
Hannah set the basket and the note on the table before edging away as Shelby screwed her face to cry again. Why couldn’t the kind smile at her as she did at everyone else?
Reuben sat beside the policeman as Chief McMurray examined the basket and read the note. When the policeman handed it to him, the bishop scanned it.
“I’d say your daed, if he wrote that note, is a man of few words.” Chief McMurray watched Shelby try to unstick a dab of honey from the tray. “It’d be easier if she could tell us something.” Taking a deep breath, he asked, “Are you willing to take care of her, Hannah?”
“Ja. If the note is true, she’s my sister.”
Grossmammi Ella snorted. “Impossible! Isaac wouldn’t treat another daughter like that.” She looked at Hannah and quickly away.
“Maybe not,” replied Chief McMurray, “but I’m going to act as if it’s the truth. Shelby appears to be doing well, and it’d be a pity to bring social services in at this point or put the two of you through a DNA test. I assume you agree, Reuben, leaving the little girl here while we try to find Isaac Lambright is the best solution.”
“I do. The kind has endured enough already.” The bishop smiled. “And Psalm 127 tells us kinder are a heritage of the Lord. Shelby is a gift, and our whole community will help take care of her.”
Chief McMurray stood. “I have no doubts, which is why I’m leaving her for now with the Lambrights. In the meantime, I’ll start seeing what I can find out about the missing Isaac Lambright.”
“So he can tell you,” Grossmammi Ella said, “you’re making a big mistake by believing he could leave another daughter behind. I know he’s under the bann, Reuben, but my grandson is a gut man.”
Reuben’s voice was conciliatory. “I believe
he is.”
“Then why did you bring an Englisch policeman here?” She left without a further word.
Hannah started to apologize, but Chief McMurray halted her.
“I’ve got an eccentric grandmother myself, so I understand.” He rubbed his chin and sighed. “It’d help if we had a picture of Isaac, but I know you don’t have one.”
“But,” Hannah said, “he has to have a license to drive a car, ain’t so? Don’t drivers’ licenses have pictures on them?”
The police chief smiled. “I keep forgetting he doesn’t live a plain life now. I’ll start a search in the databases. If he has—or has had—a license, he should pop up.”
Not quite sure what he meant by pop up, Hannah didn’t say anything when he offered Reuben a ride to his farm, which the bishop accepted.
Before he left, Reuben prayed with them. “Lord, bless Hannah, Ella and Daniel for opening their hearts to this lost kind. Let us not forget how our dear Lord said, Suffer the little children, and forbid them not, to come unto Me: for of such is the kingdom of Heaven. We pray that the peace and love of Your kingdom be upon this house and this family. Amen.”
Hannah heard Daniel and Chief McMurray echo her “Amen” before the policeman went with the bishop to the front door. The door closed, leaving her in the kitchen with Shelby and Daniel, who’d been oddly quiet.
“How are you doing?” he asked, his eyes clouded with strong emotions.
“Tired.” She sighed. “I can tell you there’s nothing wrong with her lungs. They get lots of exercise whenever I’m near.” Going to the sink, she drew out a clean dishcloth and soaked it. She wrung it out before carrying it to Shelby, intending to wash the kind’s hands.
The little girl pulled away with a plaintive cry.
“Let me,” Daniel said.
Without a word, Hannah relinquished the cloth when Daniel held out his hand. As he washed Shelby’s fingers, he said, “I’m sure it’ll get better.”