Читать книгу An Amish Reunion - Jo Brown Ann - Страница 13

Chapter Four

Daniel kneaded his lower back as he got to his feet. He’d already worked a full day and had decided to use a few hours after supper to work on his special project. He stretched out kinks and looked around the living room of the house he was building in the woods on his family’s farm. Nailing floor molding was a time-consuming job, especially when he wasn’t using a nail gun as he did when he worked for Englisch contractors. He could have borrowed an air compressor to power his tools, but he’d decided he wanted to build the house as his ancestors had. Now he was paying for his pride.

Hochmut. One of the most despised words among the Amish, because plain folks found pride contemptible. But he’d had a gut reason for his decision. He intended to use the house as a showcase for his skills when he solicited clients. He needed to stick with the choice he’d made. His family considered him too frivolous already because he took a different girl home from each singing.

Mamm had mentioned more than once—some days—it was time he considered starting a family as his other brothers were doing. She’d been delighted as each of her kinder married. Both of his sisters were wed as well as three of his six brothers, not including Isaiah who was a widower. His oldest brother Joshua remarried last year, surprising Daniel who’d wondered if Joshua would recover from his grief at the death of his first wife.

Leaning one shoulder against the kitchen doorway that needed to be framed, Daniel appraised what else wasn’t done. The rest of the molding, painting, appliances in the kitchen, furniture. A year ago, he’d thought the idea of having a showcase for what he could do was an inspired idea, but now he just wanted to be done. Once he had projects completed for clients, he could use them as examples, and he’d give this house to his twin brother, Micah, when he married.

Micah was in love with Katie Kay Lapp, the bishop’s daughter, but Katie Kay couldn’t know because his twin brother, Micah, hadn’t asked to take her home. Not once. Instead, he’d stood aside month after month, mooning over the vivacious young woman while others courted her. That Katie Kay seemed to have no steady suitor had convinced Micah he had a chance with the woman who was at the center of every gathering.

If Micah did get up his gumption and walked out with Katie Kay other than in his imagination, the house in the woods would be the perfect wedding gift. Maybe it was a gut thing Micah continued to hesitate because the house was taking longer to finish than Daniel had expected.

On other jobs, Daniel was accustomed to working with a crew. He’d had to do the work of different trades as he poured a foundation, raised walls and put on the roof. When he hadn’t known how to run the propane lines to power the refrigerator, the range and the stoves that would heat the cozy house, he’d watched and learned from a plumber at a project where Daniel was doing the roofing. With each unfamiliar task, he was able to correct any mistakes he made on his house, so he wouldn’t have to do the same for his clients.

The door opened with a squeak. Daniel added oiling the hinges to his to-do list as his brother Jeremiah walked in.

Like the rest of the Stoltzfus brothers, Jeremiah was tall and unafraid of work. His hair was reddish-brown and a few freckles remained of the multitude that once covered his face and hands. His hands were often discolored with the stain and lacquer he applied to the furniture pieces he built. He wasn’t shy, but could never be described as outspoken either. He stayed quiet when he didn’t have anything to say.

“You wanted to borrow my miter box,” he said in lieu of a greeting. He held out the tool that would allow Daniel to cut the corners for the supers he planned to make for Hannah tonight.

“Danki.”

Jeremiah squatted to appraise Daniel’s work. “Are you painting the molding white or staining it?”

“I haven’t decided.” He grinned at his older brother. “I know you’d stain it. You hate painted wood.”

“Paint hides the beauty and imperfections in the wood.” Glancing over his shoulder, he said, “I hear you’re involved with Hannah Lambright again.”

“Involved? Not really. I’m helping her take care of a toddler, and she’s helping me move a beehive off the bridge.”

“That sounds like involvement to me.”

Daniel picked up his hammer and moved across the room. Kneeling, he drove another nail into a section of molding. “Not in the way you’re insinuating. Hannah treats me as if I’m a necessary evil.”

“That can’t be a surprise to you.”

It wasn’t, but he didn’t intend to admit that to his brother. Jeremiah was the one who was most like their daed. Paul Stoltzfus had been calm, taking each challenge as it came. Jeremiah, on the other hand, was calm almost to the point of appearing passionless for anything but his work. If his brother had recently taken a girl home from a youth gathering, Daniel hadn’t heard of it. Jeremiah wouldn’t walk out with a girl without planning every detail and considering every ramification. He wouldn’t have made the mistakes Daniel had with Hannah.

“I’m pleased,” Daniel said, “she can remove the bees. I wasn’t looking forward to getting stung.” He gestured with his head toward the boards on the far side of the room. “I’m making her a hive, and she’ll make sure the bees are out of our way.”

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 years 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.