A Widow's Hope (9 page)

Seth slanted her a glance. “
Jah,
if they shoot up in my hay or cornfields. They will sap all the minerals and nutrients from the soil. Now if they have the sense to grow in my backwoods, I can appreciate them.” He felt a lonesome ache, remembering the bouquet of violets he once picked for Constance and left in the center of her kitchen table. She’d acted as though he’d given her the sun, the moon, and all the stars.

Hannah tilted her head to the side. “Ah, that means the flowers back home are more sensible than Ohio’s because the ones I mentioned grow only deep in the forest.” She appeared to be biting the inside of her cheek.

“Is that right? What do you call all those pink flowers that spring
up everywhere in my pasture? They cover just about everything over until I get the field plowed under.”

She turned to face him. “Does it grow so thick it trips you when you try to walk through it?”

He nodded but kept his focus on the road.

“It’s probably crown vetch, but I would need my plant book to make positive identification. That ground cover works great to control erosion if you seed it along a riverbank.”

He shook his head. “Don’t know why anybody would plant the stuff. It moves in uninvited and then takes over if given half a chance. Like that kudzu vine I read about down south.”

“Oh, you enjoy studying books, do you?” she asked. “I have several you might want to look at.” Hannah relaxed against the seat back and straightened her skirt. At least this one wasn’t spattered with muck.

Seth moved away from the subject of her library of reference books, knowing his brother’s opinion. “What do you have in mind to buy at the feed store? Today they’ll be busy as hens at a corn spill with everybody eager to plant their first crop.”

“I need a grain mixture to feed my sheep. You know, back home most of the corn, wheat, and rye would be in by now. They would wait to sow only soybeans and, of course, vegetables.” She gazed at the fallow fields they passed on the right.

Seth pitied her homesickness yet felt obliged to defend himself and his fellow neighbors. “Look there, Hannah—plowing and seeding on our left.” He pointed at an Amish man driving a team with his son following behind with the seed bag. “Looks like the Holmes County farmers aren’t quite as lazy as you thought.”

She turned toward him on the seat. “Oh,
es tut mir leid,
Seth, if I sounded like that. I only meant that the Lancaster Valley must get more sunny March days.” Her face looked truly apologetic.

“You probably do get more sunshine. We get lots of clouds that blow down from Lake Erie in early spring, but they’ll be gone soon.
Constance loved April. She used to say the month was God’s blessing for remaining faithful all winter.”

“What a beautiful sentiment. I will try to remember it. Those clouds blowing down from up north probably bring quite a bit of rain. I hope not too much—my pasture is already wet enough to grow rice.” She shivered and clutched her cape more tightly around her shoulders.

Seth felt oddly guilty, as though personally responsible for cloudy days, too much rain, and the chilly breeze buffeting the wagon. “I’ve been to Lancaster County enough times to know they get their share of bad weather, Hannah.”

She laughed, not the reaction he expected. “
Jah,
that’s true enough, but the air back home definitely smells sweeter. Do you have a paper mill nearby? Or maybe a meat-packing house?” She asked with such sincerity he tamped down the anger inching up his spine.

He shook his head. “No, nothing like that, Mrs. Brown. What you smell is good, old-fashioned farming—manure being tilled into the soil for fertilizer. Several farms on this road are certified organic. Their produce will fetch a good price in the fall. Some of the farmers have contracts with whole-foods markets. Everything they grow is bought up at a negotiated price even before the seeds are sown. Something to think about for the future.”

“
Jah,
organic produce is becoming more popular all the time. I’ve been reading a lot about it.”

Just then the wheel hit a pothole in the road, and the wagon lurched to the side. Seth instinctively reached for Hannah’s arm to steady her. The feel of her skin was soft and warm. The brief touch caused a heady sensation followed by a pang of guilt.

“Better hang on,” he instructed. “I put that handle there for my Constance to hold. No sense landing in a heap on the floorboards.”

Hannah grasped the handle with both hands. “
Danki,
” she said quietly.

He hadn’t meant to sound so gruff. But he didn’t like the way one
touch of a woman’s hand had affected him. He was eager to get to town and get their errands finished. This skinny whelp of a woman was having an odd effect on him—one he didn’t like.

Hannah discussed the feed mixture with the clerk at the grain elevator, who agreed with the book’s advice. She purchased the sheep feed and watched the men load it into the wagon. Seth said he had his own errands to run and insisted she wait for him in a small café. As she sipped a cup of strong coffee, it occurred to her that she unwittingly made Seth nervous. But he had an unsettling effect on her too.

He had such affection for his wife, Constance. How tender were his memories of their life together. Just for a moment, she envied his devotion. She doubted Adam would have spoken that way about her. He had been a man of few words, especially when it came to expressing his feelings. And did she deserve such devotion? The way she spoke of Lancaster County with such enthusiasm made her seem unappreciative of the home Julia and Simon had made for her.

During the drive back to Winesburg, she kept quiet and bowed her head. Last night before bed she had read Galatians 5:26: “We must not be proud, or irritate one another, or be jealous of one another.”

Seth might have thought her napping, but she was praying instead. She prayed to be delivered from her own pettiness and jealousy. God had shone His grace and mercy on her many times, and she should be grateful for all her blessings.

But she couldn’t help but wonder…would a man ever love her again? Would she know the affection she’d shared with Adam, born of deep respect and common goals? Dare she hope to find the kind of love Seth had felt for Constance?

The unpleasant cackle of a mockingbird offered her little assurance as Seth’s wagon turned into the Miller drive. “Wake up, Hannah. You’re home.”

Home, indeed.
If only she could feel that way.

T
hree of the four Miller
kinner
ran toward them with bright, shining smiles as the wagon rumbled up the driveway. The boys aimed their enthusiasm at Seth, while Emma reserved hers for Hannah.

“Good afternoon, Aunt Hannah. How did you like Mount Eaton?” Emma asked, her dark lashes framing her blue eyes. The young woman grew prettier with each passing day.

“Very nice,
danki.
I found everything I needed.” Hannah stepped down and gave the girl a hug.

Seth set the brake and jumped from the wagon, pulling several little bags from his coat pocket as he approached the group. “Fire-hot cinnamon,” he announced as he handed one bag to the boys. Henry grabbed the sack, and he and Matthew sprinted toward the barn. “Sweet lemon drops,” he said with a grin in Emma’s direction.

She stepped forward and took the gift shyly. “
Danki,
uncle.”

Hannah watched with amazement. He must have bought the treats while she was having coffee, and apparently selected their favorites. She’d better try harder if she wished to become anybody’s
favorite
aunt, she thought, reaching for her purchases from the pharmacy.

“Let me help you with those,” Emma said, popping a lemon drop into her mouth. She grabbed two plastic bags from behind the bench and headed for the house.

If Emma had been pleased to see her aunt, it couldn’t compare with the unbridled joy on Phoebe’s face when she walked out the back door and saw her
daed.
The child jumped down the steps, flew across the yard with her pigtails flying, and hurtled herself into Seth’s arms.

Seth responded with a hug usually bestowed on someone who’s been gone a very long time. “My Phoebe, my Phoebe. How goes your day with Aunt Julia? Have you helped her or merely tormented your cousins?” He swung the child in a wide arc before settling her on his hip.

Hannah watched them as her eyes filled with tears and a lump the size of a duck egg rose in her throat. Phoebe’s little arms clung to her father’s neck as though her life depended on it, while Seth brushed a string of kisses across her head.

Will I ever know the unconditional love of a child? Will I ever feel a small heart beating against my breast and know that, at least for a while, that child’s devotion belongs to me?

She didn’t think so. If God hadn’t seen fit to make her a mother during her years with Adam, she must serve Him in a way that didn’t include motherhood. As many times as she had faced the harsh truth, it didn’t get any easier to swallow.

“Hello, Phoebe,” Hannah croaked, once her voice returned. She stepped closer as Seth set the child down. “If you check your
daed
’s pockets, I think you might find a surprise.”

Seth grinned over Phoebe’s head. “I was holding off until I got a full report from Julia.”

Phoebe, however, wasn’t waiting. Her tiny fingers found the bag of gummy worms in Seth’s coat. She tore it open in no time at all.

“They’re her favorite,” Seth explained, reaching for the other shopping bags.

“Should I help you unload the feed?” she asked.

Seth looked startled by the question as he handed her the bags.

She had often helped Adam because there were only two pairs of hands of their farm.

“No, I’ll drive around the barn and get Matthew and Henry to unload. You go up to the house and take Phoebe with you. Julia can use you two more than I can.” He ruffled his daughter’s hair as she tried to hide behind his leg. Part of a candy worm hung from the side of her mouth.

“Come, Phoebe. Let’s see if Leah knows the proper way to eat a blue worm.” Hannah held out her hand and held her breath.

The child didn’t take her hand, but she did break into a fast dash for the back door. Hannah started to follow her and then turned back. Seth was still watching her.

“
Danki,
Seth, for taking me to buy the sheep feed.”

He tipped up his hat to meet her gaze. “
Gern gschehne,
you’re welcome. I was glad for the company.”

Hannah felt a flush of warmth up her neck and face and didn’t like it one bit. She didn’t need to react like a silly schoolgirl after a simple shopping trip. She hurried after Phoebe with an almost identical pace.

Inside Julia’s tidy kitchen, Hannah launched into her share of the tasks with zeal. Scrubbing, peeling, and cubing potatoes allowed her to focus energy on something less confusing than Seth Miller. Once she set the pot of potatoes to boil, she sat at the scarred oak table and found her sister watching her. “What can I help you with next?” she asked.

Julia’s dimples deepened in her cheeks. “If that had been a race, you surely would have won, sister.” Julia was basting two chickens with pan drippings while Emma tore lettuce and sliced vegetables for a salad, humming softly as she worked. “You may set the table if you like,” Julia said. “How did you like the ride to Mount Eaton? What did you and my brother-in-law find to talk about along the way?”

Luckily Julia hadn’t noticed Hannah’s flushed face or trembling fingers until the strange attack of nerves had passed.

“We mainly discussed the difference between Lancaster farms and those here in Ohio,” Hannah said, setting the stack of plates
and silverware on the table. “And Seth talked a lot about Constance. She must have been a wonderful wife and mother.”

“
Ach,
no one could bake like Constance. Her cinnamon-raisin cakes and lemon bars were the best in the district.” Julia licked her lips as though she could still taste them.

“Yours are just as good,
mamm,
” Emma insisted. “At least they were till your fingers got so stiff. And with my help, yours will be just as good again.”