A Widow's Hope (15 page)

The day had pleased him beyond measure. Everyone—young, old, male, female—had worked together in Christian service. He had participated in work frolics more times than he could count but seldom had been on the receiving end. It felt mighty good. He said a special prayer of thanks for Seth, who’d worked longer and harder than anyone.

Simon arched his neck to study a sky studded with twinkling stars. The moon was just breaking the horizon in the east, promising to shed cool light on his satisfactory Plain world.

“
Daed?
” A female voice called from the darkness.

Simon nearly tipped over on the stool. “Emma! What are you doing still about? I thought you’d gone to bed more than an hour ago.”

The eldest of his
kinner
stepped into the pool of kerosene light. “I was waiting in the kitchen to talk to you, but you didn’t come in.” She was wrapped in her mother’s handmade shawl over her heavy robe.

“What is it, child? What’s so urgent it couldn’t wait till morning?” Simon labored to his feet once again.

“I was wondering if you could clear out the loft area in the main barn. It’s not being used for anything right now—just for storing a bunch of old junk.”

“That’s not junk. Those are tools left by your grandfather that still might be useful one day. What do you want the loft for, girl?”

“I thought we could clean it up and set up Aunt Hannah’s loom. It could be our workshop. Aunt Hannah said she would teach me how to spin and weave and knit.”

“Did your aunt ask you to speak to me about this?”

Emma looked surprised by the question. “No,
daed,
I love the new sheep and want to start spinning and carding wool. Aunt Hannah said they would soon need their spring shearing. I can’t wait to see that. She showed me a beautiful throw for the back of the couch that she wove on her loom.” Even in the thin glow of his lantern, there was no mistaking excitement in her eyes.

“Since when do we want fancy decorations for our front room, Emma?”

“It wasn’t fancy—just a plain navy blue—but it would be good and warm for cold winter nights.” She smiled pleasantly, reminding him so much of Julia.

Simon studied his daughter in the wavering light.
When did she start using logic and reason when she wanted something? When did she start sounding like an adult?
Before he knew it, boys would be comin’ round to court Emma, and he sure wasn’t ready for that!

Then Simon remembered he had promised to give Hannah space for her weaving. With the spring planting—and replanting—he’d forgotten all about it. “
Jah,
Emma, when Matthew and Henry get home from school tomorrow, they can help me clear it out. But you and your aunt will be responsible for sweeping it and whitewashing the walls. Can’t rightly see how you’ll keep the mice out of there. They’ll be nesting in her wool if you’re not careful.”

Emma threw her arms around his neck and hugged tightly. “
Danki,
papa. I will appoint one barn cat to stand watch so no mice come into our new workshop.” She kissed his cheek and then turned and ran for the house. All her former grownup behavior vanished when she sprinted like the leader in a footrace.

Simon shook his head and moved his stool out of the doorway. He suddenly felt every one of his forty-one years. The next time he saw Seth, he would tell him he’d given his idea some thought. It might not be a bad idea to move the flock to his farm, at least temporarily. And setting up the loom and making the loft into a workshop might be good ideas too. The weaving would get Hannah busy with
normal female activities instead of stomping around wet fields in her late husband’s boots. He didn’t want either of his daughters developing overly independent tendencies or too much interest in manly pursuits.

This might just be the best thing for all concerned.

J
ulia winced in pain as she washed and dressed the next morning. The chilliness of the bedroom stiffened her already painful joints. Luckily no one was around to hear her moans as she fastened the hooks and eyes of her garment. As usual, Simon had risen before dawn to begin his chores before his first cup of coffee. The boys would milk and feed the cows, water the horses, and load Aunt Hannah’s hay wagon before getting ready for school. Emma was probably also up, baking bread or buttermilk biscuits for breakfast. But no doubt little Leah would still be fast asleep.

As Julia pinned her hair into a tight bun, she noticed the dark circles beneath her eyes and deep-set lines around her mouth. Yesterday’s work frolic had taken its toll and put her behind with her everyday tasks. She felt tired and haggard after preparing meals for so many hungry workers. She hadn’t minded the extra work, especially after seeing how happy Simon was with the entire crop replanted. But her arthritis was getting worse by the day. Soon she wouldn’t be able to hide the truth from anyone.

Today her knuckles refused to bend, she couldn’t lift her arms waist high, and her knees ached almost beyond bearing. How would she finish the new dresses for the girls in addition to her ironing? With Emma almost done with school, Julia would soon have full-time
help with the housework. If she could only hold out until then, maybe Hannah wouldn’t realize how bad off she was. If her sister knew the truth, she would neglect her wool business to do more around the house. Julia wouldn’t allow that. Hannah needed to make a life for herself instead of doting on her. Then maybe her little sister would smile again.

From her window, Julia watched Hannah walk to the barn with a definite spring in her step. She would begin sweeping and cleaning the loft even before Simon moved out the heavy equipment. That kind of energy was the only thing Julia ever coveted. She smiled as she imagined Hannah with her broom flying over the wide planks, stirring up a cloud of dust with cobwebs hanging from her
kapp.

Simon had told her when he’d come to bed that they would set up the loom today. Then he’d turned his head on the pillow and fallen deeply asleep, exhausted from the replanting. Julia had lain awake for a long while before sleep came. And it hadn’t been her aches and pains that kept her tossing and turning until the wee hours.

Struggling down the stairs, Julia saw that Emma had already built up the fire in the woodstove and prepared a pan of biscuits to bake. Swallowing three aspirin with a glass of water, she let out an exasperated sigh. What had made her sleepless the night before continued to trouble her this morning: Hannah had made no progress in capturing Seth’s attention, even though Julia knew she liked him.

How could Hannah so easily concoct solutions for Thomas’ court-ship problems yet be unable to help herself? What a clever idea to take the cold-storage apples over to Catherine. And showing up at a singing without a ride home would work too. Thomas was shy, so talking to Catherine while in her brother’s company might smooth things out. But Hannah hadn’t a clue what might win Seth. Her brother-in-law might be interested in sheep farming, but seeing a woman stomping through a swampy meadow with mud up to her knees was never going to win a man’s heart.

Seth needed to see Hannah for the kind, sweet-tempered woman
she was—a woman who would make any man a fine wife, especially Seth, who had a motherless child to raise. Time was running out. What if Simon found out that Hannah’s forthrightness had landed her in trouble with the ministerial brethren back home? Plain people loved taking trips to visit family or interesting places, same as fancy folk. Many of their neighbors traveled back and forth to Pennsylvania whenever time, chores, and their pocketbooks allowed. What if someone in the district got wind of Hannah’s admonishment back in Lancaster? Simon would be furious—angry with Hannah, and with her, for not telling him sooner.

Reputation meant everything to Simon. If it became known around their community that Hannah had been called before the elders and threatened with shunning, Simon wouldn’t be able to hold his head as high. Hannah was a Kline and she was a Kline. One hint of disgrace reflected on the entire family.

Julia loved her husband only second to the Lord, but Simon wasn’t known for his patience or understanding. “Bad company corrupts good morals,” according to Simon. Hannah would be labeled as a troublemaker and a bad influence. Seth, who understood the price of living in a close Amish community, might squash his growing interest in Hannah. Any fondness he possessed would wither on the vine, and they’d both be denied the chance of finding happiness again.

A haze of dust hung in the air from Hannah’s sweeping as Simon surveyed the almost empty loft. He felt another twinge in his lower back as he hefted the last large piece to move—an old-fashioned walk-behind plow. Henry and Matthew tried their best, but they were too small to take much of the weight. It might be time for another visit to the chiropractor once he finished cleaning out the loft.

“Please, Simon, let Emma and me help,” Hannah begged for the
third time in half an hour. “Five sets of hands can lift better than three.”

“No,” he said. “You’ll have plenty to do once we move the rest of the tools and implements out.” Simon walked backward carrying the plow and hoped he didn’t tumble over the edge before reaching the steps.

“Careful there,” Hannah cautioned. “Six inches to the edge. Don’t get any closer.”

Like a mother hen, she repositioned herself every few feet or so to supervise the movement of the plow. “You’re getting close to the steps. Almost there.”

Why anyone had decided upstairs was a good place to store a heavy piece of equipment, Simon didn’t know. “Hold up, Matthew. Let me start my end down first,” he instructed. Glancing over his shoulder, he moved one foot down and shifted his weight. His back began to spasm in protest. He could sense Hannah bobbing her head left and right behind him, and it made him nervous.

“Henry, watch that your fingers don’t get pinched along that wall,” Hannah called over his shoulder.

“Please, Hannah, move out of the way.” Speech proved very difficult with the weight of the plow. Simon could barely draw a breath.

With great effort the three slowly lowered the plow several steps. Simon glanced back and spotted Hannah standing at the bottom. “Move away from the landing. If I drop my end, I don’t want it crashing down on you.” Simon gritted out the warning through his clenched teeth. With Henry and Matthew at the top end, all the weight rested on him. He felt the color rise up his neck into his face from the strain as the plow began twisting to the side.

“Stay back, Emma!” Hannah ordered before hurrying up the steps to grab the plow. Her hands gripped the bottom edge just as the plow began shifting downward.

“Come down the steps, boys,” Simon ordered. “Now!”

Although Hannah was neither large nor strong, her help made all the difference. After three quick backward steps, the four of them set the unwieldy plow down on the barn floor with a loud clatter.

“
Danki,
Hannah,” Simon said, straightening his spine very slowly. “That piece was heavier than I thought.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, also out of breath. “If not for me and my loom, this plow could’ve stayed where it was forever.” She wiped her grimy palms on her apron.

“I’ll get us some lemonade and oatmeal cookies,” Emma said merrily, as though this were a cider-making frolic—more fun than hard work.

“You will do no such thing,” Simon ordered. “You will wash your hands and head to school. Why didn’t you leave with Leah?” It occurred to him only at that moment that today was a school day.

“Ah,
daed,
I’m almost done with school anyhow. I thought I’d stay to help Aunt Hannah clean out and whitewash the workroom. The boys are home today.” She smiled with her pretty, toothy grin.

With his breathing back to normal, Simon rested his hands on his hips and angled a glare at his eldest child.

“Oh, is
that
what you thought, Emma? The boys have been excused for planting season.” He didn’t need to raise his voice or say anything more. The tone did the trick.
When did my daughter start deciding if and when she would go to school?

“Sorry,
daed,
” Emma said, much deflated. “I’ll hurry and try to catch up with Leah. See you after school, Aunt Hannah.” The girl disappeared through the doorway without a backward glance.