by Amy Clipston
Joshua chuckled. “I wish I had his energy.”
“Ya, I know.” Hannah smiled. “Would you like to stay for devotions?”
“Thanks for the offer, but I need to get home.”
“Okay. I’ll walk you out.” Hannah followed him to the porch where they stood by the steps. “Are you going to talk to Daniel tomorrow?”
“Ya.” Joshua leaned against the railing and towered over her by a few inches. “He wanted to discuss it with his parents, but he was froh with the salary.”
“Gut.” Hannah folded her arms over her apron. “He’s a gut young man. I’m certain he’ll work hard for you. You’ve needed help for a long time.”
“Ya.” He frowned. “But I wish you didn’t have to work so that we can pay him. Gideon would not be pleased that you have to be away from your kinner.”
“Don’t be gegisch.” She dismissed his comment with a wave. “Things are different now that Gid is gone. The girls are older. Lillian only teaches on days when I’m home, so she’s here for Andrew when I’m working. I like my job, and the pay is gut. It’s important that you have a man working with you out in the stables. The horses are our bread and butter.”
“I know, but I’m certain Gideon wouldn’t have approved.” Joshua’s eyes studied her. “You know I love your kinner like they were my own. I would do anything for them.”
Hannah shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I know, and the kinner love you too.”
“If you ever need anything, you know I will be here.” He stepped toward her. “Anything at all, Hannah.”
“Danki.” Hannah took a step back toward the door. “It’s late, Josh. I’ll see you tomorrow. Gut nacht.”
“Gut nacht.”
Joshua headed toward his buggy, parked by the barn, and Hannah watched his lanky body move through the shadows of the early evening. Although Joshua had been a wonderful support to her and her children since Gideon had died, he didn’t warm her heart as her husband had. She often sensed a longing in his intense blue eyes, but she couldn’t feel more than friendship for him.
Hannah contemplated her husband and brother-in-law while she watched Joshua’s horse and buggy bounce down her rock driveway toward the road. She’d grown up and gone to church and school with Gideon and Joshua. Gideon was two years older than she was and Joshua was a year younger. But it was Gideon who’d stolen her heart when she turned sixteen and joined his youth group. She couldn’t resist his infectious laugh and warm smile, coupled with his sense of humor and bright blue eyes the color of the sky. He’d rented this land and the house from his parents and then asked his brother to be his business partner when he opened the horse farm.
Hannah stepped into the kitchen and locked up for the night. While snuffing out the lanterns, she thought back to her early years with Gideon. She’d married him when she was twenty-one, and the twins came along a year later. After several heartbreaking miscarriages, Hannah thought they’d only be blessed with the girls. Yet their family was complete when Andrew joined them. Hannah could still remember the joy in Gideon’s eyes when they’d welcomed their son. Although he adored his girls, he’d hoped they’d someday have a son to help him run the business along with his brother. But Andrew never had the chance to help his father run the business. Gideon died when Andrew was six.
Hannah crossed the kitchen and family room and stood in the doorway to her bedroom. A wave of grief crashed over her as she studied her double bed and frowned.
“Gideon,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “I’m so thankful for the life we shared and for the brief amount of time God gave you on his earth. And I’m thankful for our wonderful kinner. But I can’t stop the loneliness that haunts me every day.”
She crossed the room and touched the pillow on what had been his side of the bed. “I’m most lonely at night when I’m trapped in here with my thoughts. You took my heart with you when you left. I don’t know how to fill the hole that’s left where my heart used to be.” She wiped an errant tear from her cheek. “I’m exhausted. It’s so difficult keeping up with my job at the hotel and raising these kinner without you. When you were here, we had a balance. I didn’t feel so scattered and unsure of myself. There are times when I’m lost, and I wish you were here to help me make decisions about the kinner and about our life. Sometimes I’m so confused. I’m not the same person I was when you were here. I feel as if I lost part of myself when you left. We all miss you, and we all need you. I miss you, Gid. And I love you.”
She then climbed the stairs toward her children’s bedrooms and sent up a prayer to God, asking him to guide her and rid her of the sadness in her heart.
Later that evening, Amanda snuggled under their quilt and looked at her sister beside her. “How’s your book?”
“Gut.” Lillian turned the page while reading by the light of a battery-operated lantern.
Amanda yawned and rolled over to face the wall. It seemed nearly every night she fell asleep while her sister was reading a Christian novel. They were technically twins born only a few minutes apart, but their similarities ended there. For one thing, Lillian was the only one blessed with their mother’s coloring. And for another, while Lillian could often be found with her nose in a book, Amanda had other interests—secret interests.
Amanda’s eyes moved to her bureau where her secret book was hidden in the bottom drawer under her stockings and underwear. She’d picked up a copy of The Veterinarian’s Manual at the bookstore located across from the deli during her lunchtime last week. She managed to hide it in the tote bag she carried to work every day and then hide it in her bureau. Amanda stole a few private moments perusing the book, but she didn’t dare tell her family of her dream of going to college and becoming a veterinarian. She hadn’t even shared her secret with the vet across the street because she was afraid no one would understand why an Amish girl would want to pursue a career as a veterinarian. Yet she yearned to cross to the other side of the room, grab her special book, and read alongside her sister.
Amanda heard her sister’s book close and hit the nightstand. A click told her that the lantern had been turned off for the night. The bed shifted as Lillian moved under the covers.
“I wish Mamm didn’t have to work.” Lillian broke the silence between them.
“You know why she took the job. Onkel Josh needs help with the horses, and Andrew is too small to do the heavy work.” Amanda cupped her hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn. Exhaustion gripped her after a day on her feet at the deli.
“Ya, but she belongs at home,” Lillian continued. “Even Mammi said that to me after service Sunday.”
“Mammi should understand that Onkel Josh and Mamm made the decision together. Besides, I think it’s gut for Mamm to get out of the haus and away from the memories. I’ve caught her crying when she thinks she’s alone, and it breaks my heart. Maybe the Lord led her to the hotel so she could find some joy again. Everything happens for a reason.”
“I don’t know.” Lillian paused. “Andrew wasn’t froh today when I made him help me fold the laundry. I needed someone to help because I was falling behind and had to start supper. He helped me, but you should’ve seen his face.”
Amanda smiled. “I can imagine. He’d much rather be out in the barn with Onkel Josh.”
“Do you think Andrew might take over the horse business someday?”
“He might.” Amanda yawned again. “But you never know what the Lord has in store for him.” She felt herself drifting off to sleep, but her sister’s voice wrenched her awake again.
“Do you think Onkel Josh loves Mamm?”
“What?” Amanda tried to decipher the implication of her sister’s words. “What do you mean?”
“You heard me. Do you think Onkel Josh is in love with Mamm?”
“You mean like how Dat loved her?” Amanda couldn’t help her grimace. The idea was preposterous.
“Ya, that’s exactly what I mean.”
“I don’t know.” Amanda ro
lled over and faced her sister through the dark. “Why would you even think that?”
“I’m not sure. It’s a feeling I get sometimes. He stares at her like he’s watching a miracle happen before his eyes.”
Amanda snorted. “That sounded poetic, Lily. When did you start writing poetry?”
“I’m being serious.” Lillian’s voice held no hint of a joke.
“I don’t know. I guess anything’s possible, right? Maybe Onkel Josh cares for her.”
“Haven’t you ever wondered why he never married?”
“Not really. Mamm’s aenti Fannie never married either. Some people don’t meet the right person, I guess.” Amanda rolled back toward the wall. “It’s late. You need your sleep.”
“I miss Dat.” Lillian’s voice was soft, like an unsure child.
“I do too. But God will take care of us and guide our path. He always does. Now, go to sleep, Lillian. You have to help teach tomorrow.” Amanda drifted off to sleep while contemplating her sister’s question about their uncle.
THREE
Wednesday morning the elevator dinged and the door opened to the third floor with a hum. Hannah pushed the supply cart and vacuum cleaner around the corner toward the first hallway of rooms. When she spotted the man whose room she’d barged into on Monday, her stomach dropped. He was patting his pockets and his mouth formed a thin line.
Hannah turned the cart around in an attempt to slip away to the other end of the hall and avoid all contact with him. She failed to escape, however, because she was stopped mid-stride by a voice behind her.
“Excuse me. Could you possibly help me?”
When she faced him, his lips turned up in a tentative smile.
Hannah studied the man and wondered why she hadn’t switched floors with Linda today to escape more uncomfortable contact with him. “Ya, I can help you. What do you need?”
“I’ve lost my room key.” He shook his head. “My wife always said I’d lose my head if it wasn’t attached, and she was right.” He chuckled and his eyes sparkled with humor.
Hannah smiled, even though embarrassment filled her. He was clad in a collared shirt and dress slacks, but her impure thoughts kept creeping back to the sight of him without a shirt. How would she ever erase that from her memory?
“Of course.” Hannah crossed to the hotel room while keeping her eyes trained on the door. She pulled out the master card key and unlocked the door. “Have a good day.” She started toward the supply cart.
“Hannah?” he asked.
“Ya?” Hannah studied his brown eyes, wondering how he knew her name. Of course he knew her name; it was displayed on her uniform. She touched the gold nametag pinned to her work apron and immediately felt stupid.
“I’m Trey.” He held out his hand. “Trey Peterson.”
She shook his hand quickly and then pulled her hand back to her side. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Peterson.”
“I didn’t see you yesterday.”
“I wasn’t here.” She fingered her apron. “I work Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.” Why was he so interested in her name and her work schedule?
“Oh.” An awkward moment passed between them. He looked to be in his early forties, and had sandy blond hair and a matching goatee trimmed neatly around his mouth. He glanced behind him and chuckled again. His laugh was warm, much like his smile. “I see the key sitting in front of the television set. My wife was right. I would lose my head if it wasn’t attached.”
“Wives usually are right.” The comment escaped her lips before she could stop it, and she mentally chastised herself for the sarcastic remark.
Trey raised his eyebrows as a burst of laughter exploded from his lips. “I didn’t expect a comeback like that from you.”
“I’m sorry. My husband used to warn me to watch my pert remarks, so I guess we’re even.” Hannah looked past him and spotted a framed photograph sitting on the dresser next to the large flat screen television. The photograph featured an attractive woman standing with her arms around a teenage girl. “Is that your family?”
His smile faded. “Yes.” He stepped into the room and picked up the photograph. His eyes studied it as if seeing it for the first time.
She watched him from the doorway. “You have a nice family.”
“Yes, I did.” He shook his head and put the photograph down next to the television. “They died a little over a year ago.”
Hannah gasped. “Ach, no. I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks.” Mr. Peterson cupped his hand to the back of his neck. “Carbon monoxide poisoning. I was out of town on business.” He turned back toward the photograph. “I never imagined that could happen to me. We had smoke detectors, and I thought our carbon monoxide detectors were up-to-date. I’d changed the batteries recently—or at least I thought I had. But apparently it wasn’t enough.”
His eyes met hers. “Some nights I can’t sleep because I wonder over and over again if I could have done something if I’d been there. But I’ve spoken to people who insist that carbon monoxide is a silent killer. It’s odorless. Corrine and Sammi died peacefully in their sleep, and if I’d been there, I would’ve died too. But that gives me little comfort.” His frown deepened. “I’ll never understand why I was left here without them. All alone.”
Hannah nodded slowly, stunned by his openness with her. “God’s will is unpredictable and often takes us by surprise.” She thought of Gideon and her lip quivered. She took a deep breath in an effort to stop her threatening tears. “And it can knock us down and take our breath away, leaving us wondering why. But asking why will only drive you mad. You have to accept that his will is always right, no matter how painful it is.”
Mr. Peterson studied her. “You sound like you speak from experience.”
“My husband died four years ago.”
Trey took a step toward her. “I’m so sorry, Hannah.”
The warmth in his eyes caught her off guard. Hannah cleared her throat in an effort to temper her emotions. “He had a massive heart attack. His brother found him in the pasture, but by the time the ambulance arrived it was too late. Nothing could be done.” She thought back to that day in the hospital waiting room. “I felt as if the life had been sucked out of me when the doctor told us he was gone. Every dream we had and every promise we made to each other disappeared in that moment. Nothing would ever be the same. My children had lost their father, and I’d lost my life partner. It was all just gone in the blink of an eye.”
“I’m so sorry.” He repeated the words with just as much empathy as the first time he’d said them. “How many children do you have?”
“Three.”
“How are they doing?”
Hannah shrugged. “They manage. We all miss him, but we just go on and hold fast to our faith. It’s not our place to question God.”
“You’re right, but you said it yourself. Sometimes it’s not easy.”
“No, it’s not—especially when I’m left alone with my thoughts late at night when I can’t sleep. I keep wondering what life would be like now if he hadn’t died. What if I’d walked out to the pasture to check on him that day? What if Joshua had found him a few minutes earlier and I’d called 9-1-1 a few minutes sooner?” Hannah paused when she realized she’d shared thoughts that she’d never even said aloud to family members or her closest friends. “But I hold fast to my prayers, and I pray often.”
“I understand.” Mr. Peterson’s serious expression transformed to a smile. “I pray often. I think God’s tired of hearing from me.”
“I don’t think God ever gets tired of hearing from his children.” She spotted the time on his watch and realized she was running behind. She needed to start cleaning or her boss would scold her. She gestured toward the supply cart. “I need to get back to work. I hope you have a good day.”
“You too. Thanks for rescuing me from being locked out in the hallway.”
“You know you could’ve gotten a new key from the front desk.”
“I could ha
ve, but it was nice talking to you, Hannah.”
“Ya, it was nice talking to you too.” She started toward the cart. “I hope you keep track of your key.”
“I do too.” He laughed. “See you later.”
Hannah pushed the supply cart toward the other end of the hallway and contemplated her conversation with Trey Peterson. She couldn’t fathom the pain he’d endured when he found out that his wife and daughter had both died from carbon monoxide poisoning. How would Hannah have coped with losing her whole family at once? The thought caused her to shudder.
She knocked, announced herself, and unlocked the door to an empty room. She pushed the vacuum cleaner into the room while she thought about Mr. Peterson. She wondered how he managed to keep a smile on his face despite his pain. She assumed that his prayers and faith were his strength.
Hannah clicked the on button and the vacuum cleaner roared to life. She pushed the machine back and forth, dragging the suction over the tan carpet. She wished the noise would silence her thoughts and her curiosity to know more about Mr. Peterson’s life and spiritual journey after losing his wife and daughter.
After bowing her head in silent prayer, Hannah glanced across the break-room table toward her coworker Ruth Ebersol. “How’s your day going?”
The older woman shrugged and pushed back a lock of graying brown hair that had escaped her prayer covering. “It’s the usual. Messy rooms and dirty carpets.”
“Ya, the same every day.” Hannah pulled out her sandwich and apple. “Where is everyone else?”
“I think they’re on their way.” Ruth took a bite of her homemade bread. “Did you have a gut morning?”
“Ya.” Hannah thought about her conversation with Trey Peterson while chewing her turkey sandwich.
Ruth’s mild stare intensified. “You look like you have something interesting to share.”
Hannah sipped her cup of water while considering what to share with Ruth. Although she’d worked with her friend for almost six months, she didn’t know how Ruth would react to her conversation with an Englisher.