Hannah's Joy (20 page)

Phil seemed to deflate as his wife’s words sank in. “I’ve tried to explain to him,” he muttered.

“I know you have, dear.” She patted his arm. “But we have to do better than that, don’t we?”

He nodded, straightening his shoulders. “You’re right. Conroy’s gone off the rails if he thinks this is the right thing to do.”

He met William’s gaze. “Hannah can count on us to help in any way we can.” He held out his hand. “You have my word on it.”

William shook hands, but even as he was thanking them, his mind was jumping ahead. He’d taken a couple of positive steps forward, but was it enough?

*   *   *

The
service at the churchhouse had been more meaningful than ever before that Sunday morning, Hannah decided. She’d prayed her way through the entire worship, feeling the sense of community strong around her. Surely God would show her the way through this trial.

She’d just put Jamie down for his nap, and there had been moments when she’d wanted to crawl into the crib with him. But hiding wasn’t the answer any more than running away was. This had to be faced.

“Do you think the lawyer lady will want a cup of coffee? Or maybe iced tea?” Aunt Paula hovered between the living room and the kitchen. “I’m not sure what to offer her.”

“Either is fine.” What the woman would drink was the least of Hannah’s worries, but she knew her aunt was just expressing her own stress by fussing. “It was kind of her to come out here on a Sunday.”

“Ja, ser kind. That is what Sarah said about her. I’ll have both ready, and some apple crumb pie, as well.” The kitchen door swung to behind her.

Hannah still found it hard to believe that the attorney would actually come to the house to talk to her. Sarah must have given her a picture of the situation, stressing that Robert insisted on an answer by Monday. Tomorrow. Hannah’s heart seemed to skip a beat.

If she could turn the pages of the calendar back, to before Robert’s arrival . . . what would she do? Was there anything she could have done differently from the start that might have prevented this outcome? Maybe it had been inevitable.

The doorbell rang, cutting off that futile line of thought. Hannah put her palm on her stomach, as if that would calm the butterflies there, and went quickly down the stairs to open the door.

The attorney proved to be younger than Hannah had expected, with a sleek, professional air and a cautious smile. She followed Hannah up the steps, talking cheerfully about the drive to Pleasant Valley and the fall colors along the roads.

Only when she had been introduced to Aunt Paula and taken a seat in the living room did she pull out an official-looking pad from the leather briefcase she carried and flick her chin-length brown hair behind her ear.

“Now, then,” she said. “I think I have the basics down, from our telephone conversation yesterday. There are just a few more questions I have before we discuss strategy.”

Hannah clasped her hands in her lap to keep them from trembling. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know, of course.”

“As I understand it, you came here to live with your aunt a few months ago. Why was that?” She held a pen poised over the pad.

“I was having trouble making it financially with my husband’s army pension and saving anything for Jamie’s future, and it was difficult to find someone good to watch Jamie while I worked.” She clenched her hands tighter, not liking to remember the panic she’d felt at times. “My aunt is my only family, and when she offered us a home, I knew it was the perfect solution.”

Ms. Downing’s eyebrows lifted. “Your husband’s father had not offered to help you financially?”

She shook her head. “Maybe he didn’t realize. He had never even seen Jamie. The only time he came east was for my husband’s funeral, and that was before Jamie was born.”

“So this visit was the first time he’d met his grandson? Isn’t that odd? Had you quarreled with him?”

“I had never quarreled with him, but he and Travis didn’t have a very good relationship. We went to visit Robert once after we were married, but that was all.”

The woman frowned, and Hannah’s stomach twisted. What was she frowning about? Did she think Hannah was in some way to blame?

“And your situation here is working out well?” She looked from Hannah to her aunt.

“Very well,” Aunt Paula said before Hannah could answer. “It has been a joy to have them here.” She glanced toward the door to Jamie’s room, love in her eyes. “I have asked Hannah to be my business partner. It’s always been intended that the shop would go to her.”

Ms. Downing turned her gaze to Hannah, obviously wanting her to answer as well.

“Jamie and I are very happy here,” she said simply. “I am back where I belong. It is home.”

The attorney nodded. “Frankly, based on everything I’ve heard, and the little research I’ve been able to do, I’d say your father-in-law has no case at all. It’s extremely unlikely that the court would take a child away from the mother, particularly as I understand Conroy’s only reason for his action is his dislike of your religion.”

The knots in her stomach began to loosen. “So we will be all right? Even if he goes to court?”

“Well, no lawyer can guarantee a particular outcome in any case.” Sheila Downing smiled. “But this one comes as close to a slam dunk as any I’ve ever heard of. I mean—”

“That’s all right. I know what a slam dunk is.” Hannah smiled for the first time in what felt like months.

“Still, the best resolution all around is to persuade your father-in-law to drop the whole idea,” the attorney said. “That way nobody has the trouble and expense of preparing a case, and you avoid the publicity that could come up.”

“Publicity?” Aunt Paula’s face seemed to tighten at the word.

Hannah understood her feelings. It was bad enough to go to a lawyer to settle a family matter. To have it spread all over the newspapers would be horrendous.

“I can’t deny that the press finds stories about the Amish and Mennonites newsworthy,” Ms. Downing said. “Sometimes that can work to our advantage. It certainly did in Sarah’s case. But I do understand your feelings. As I said, it’s best for everyone if Conroy forgets this idea.”

“I have tried to explain.” How often had Hannah said that? Too many times, it seemed.

“Well, we’ll have to try again. Maybe I can talk some sense into his attorney, and we can settle this quickly and quietly.” She rose. “Call me the minute you hear anything from him. As soon as I know who he’s hired, I’ll try to set up a meeting.” She picked up her case, shoving the legal pad into it.

“But won’t you have something to eat or drink?” Aunt Paula was alarmed at the thought of a guest leaving her house without partaking of refreshments. “I have iced tea and apple crumb pie.”

“It sounds lovely, but I must be on my way.” She shook hands with Hannah. “I know it’s easier to say than to do, but try not to worry too much. In all probability, your father-in-law was bluffing. If not, we’ll be prepared.” She turned toward the stairs.

“I’ll walk down with you,” Hannah said quickly. She followed the woman down the steps and out onto the porch. “One other thing I wanted to ask you . . . If . . . When I see my father-in-law again, what should I do?”

“Try to get through to him,” she said. “I know, you’ve already tried, probably over and over. But it really is the best way.” She smiled. “It’s not usually my job to talk my clients out of going to court, but sometimes it’s for the best. And it definitely is this time.”

Hannah nodded. “I’ll try, of course.” But she didn’t think Robert would listen any more than he had any other time.

She pinned a smile on her face as she watched the attorney back out of the lane, but her heart was heavy. She had no illusions about the cost of a court battle, both emotionally and financially. There had to be another way. But what was it?

C
HAPTER
N
INETEEN

H
annah
stood where she was for a few more minutes, wrapping her arms around herself as much for comfort as for warmth. The day had turned cloudy, and the breeze that swept across the backyard felt cool. A few leaves drifted down from the maple tree, which was already showing its fall color.

She didn’t want to go back into the house. Much as she loved Aunt Paula, she couldn’t deal with her aunt’s questions and speculations right now. She needed a short time to clear her head and get a grip on what should come next.

Beyond the garage, the lawn sloped down to the small creek that ran behind the houses on the west side of Pleasant Valley’s main street. Hannah walked toward it slowly, head bent. The breeze pulled a strand of hair loose from her kapp, and she tucked it back into place. Her hair still wasn’t quite long enough to stay where it should.

If Robert forced her to move back to the outside world with Jamie, that wouldn’t matter. She bit her lip at the thought. She could still be a Mennonite, no matter where she was, of course. But she wouldn’t be a part of this close-knit, supportive community. She wouldn’t have Aunt Paula’s love and companionship, or the friends she’d made here. She wouldn’t have William.

That was a separate pain, all its own. Hannah pressed her hand against her heart, as if that would help.

She stopped where the ground sloped down to the stream, her gaze on the water. Right now it was shallow and clear, the water gurgling over smooth rocks, their edges rounded by years in the creek bed. Sometimes the creek could overflow, rising to threaten the row of homes and businesses, fierce in its power, carrying away branches, logs, even the occasional chair someone had left out.

That was how she felt—like a branch torn from a vine, carried away to land who knew where. If Robert had his way . . .

Don’t think about that. Think about the lawyer’s reassurances.

A branch cracked underfoot, and she looked up. William was there.

She turned her gaze quickly back to the stream, afraid he’d see the neediness in her face. But she’d seen enough to know he wore his church clothes—black pants, white shirt, black hat. He must have shed his black jacket after the service.

“I remember wading here once.” She nodded toward the stream, still not looking at him. “Probably more than once, but one day is so clear in my mind.”

“Ja?” William drew closer—close enough that if she put out her hand she could touch him. “H-how old were you?”

“Small. Four or five maybe.” She smiled. “Mammi let me go in by myself, but I slipped on a rock and plopped down. I don’t suppose I was hurt, but it scared me.”

“Your m-mammi came in after you,” he said.

She nodded. “She hurried in, getting her shoes and socks wet when she picked me up. She made a joke of it, taking them off to dry and then playing in the water with me until I wasn’t afraid anymore.”

There was a brief silence.

“By n-next summer, Jamie will be b-big enough to wade.”

“Yes.” But fear caught at her. “If we’re still here.”

“You w-will be.” William’s voice was filled with confidence. “R-Robert can’t m-make you leave.”

“That’s what the lawyer says. She was very reassuring.” She blinked, realizing she’d never thanked him. “Thank you, William. It was kind of you to get Sarah involved.”

“Sh-she wants to help. Everyone d-does. Even Phil and N-Nancy Russo.”

She looked up at his face, startled to hear their names. “How do you know?”

“I w-went to them.”

“You did?” That had taken courage.

“Ja. I told them what R-Robert is trying to d-do. They didn’t know.”

“I should have thought of that myself. Nancy is so understanding, and Robert is more likely to listen to them than to me.”

He nodded. “So y-you shouldn’t worry. Folks are on your s-side.”

She managed to hold back the words for a moment, but then they broke loose. “That’s what the lawyer said, too. Don’t worry. But how can I help it? She doesn’t think Robert can win if it goes to court, but what about in the meantime? There’s the cost—that’s bad enough. But the newspapers will pick up the story. People will be talking about us. Aunt Paula—well, it’s a poor return for all her kindness.”

“Hannah—”

She swept on, not letting him interrupt. “And what if he does win? The lawyer admitted she couldn’t guarantee anything. What if—” Her voice broke on a sob.

And then William’s arms were around her, and he was holding her close. She turned her face toward his chest, fighting the tears.

With his strong arms clasping her, his heart beating steadily against her cheek, the need to weep slid away. He was here. She was safe.

She couldn’t give in . . . couldn’t be weak, couldn’t depend on anyone else to solve her problems for her. But surely it wasn’t wrong to let herself be comforted just for a moment.

William grasped her arms and held her away just enough so that he could see her face. “Hannah, I think y-you should m-marry me.”

Her breath caught.

“I-I’ve been thinking a-about it. If y-you are married, Robert will have less c-claim on Jamie. You w-will have s-security.”

Security.
The word echoed with a hollow sound in her mind. How long had that been her goal? How long had she thought security equaled happiness?

She’d thought that was all she needed and wanted in life. But she couldn’t marry William just to be safe. If he loved her . . .

But he hadn’t said anything about love. Only about security.

She seemed to hear Rachel’s voice in her mind, telling her how William had proposed to her.
He just wanted to take care of
us.

She and Travis had clung together like two lost children, feeling safe because they loved each other. But they hadn’t been safe.

William looked at her steadily, but she couldn’t seem to read anything in his normally open face.

“I’m sorry, William.” Her voice shook a little, and she fought to steady it. “I can’t.”

He took both her hands in his. “I c-care about y-you. And J-Jamie.”

She couldn’t talk about this any longer, because if she tried, she was going to fly into a thousand pieces. “I care about you, too. But I can’t marry you just to be safe. I can’t.”

She pulled her hands free and ran toward the house, managing to hold back the tears until she was inside, the door closed behind her.

Aunt Paula took one look at her and came to put her arms around her. “There now, it will be all right.” She patted Hannah’s back, her hands and her voice comforting. “It seems hard now, I know. Tell me only if you want. Is it William?”

Hannah nodded, drawing away, wiping her tears with the backs of her hands. “I’m sorry. This is no way for a grown woman to behave.”

“Even a grown woman must cry sometimes,” Aunt Paula said. She led Hannah to the rocking chair and sat down opposite her. “You have no cause to be ashamed of that. If William upset you . . .”

She shook her head. “He didn’t mean to.” She took a breath, trying to ease the tightness in her throat. “He asked me to marry him.”

Aunt Paula was still for a moment. “What did you say?”

“I told him no, of course. What else could I do?”

“There’s no ‘of course’ about it. William was a kind boy who has grown into a fine, strong man without losing that kindness. You care for each other, ain’t so?”

Hannah leaned back in the chair, trying for calm. “What makes you say that?”

“Ach, a person chust has to see William watching you to know how he feels. And the same with you, if a person has eyes.”

Hannah rubbed her temples. “I think I gave that away to Robert the day of the barn raising. That’s probably why he’s so set on getting me away from here.”

“Robert Conroy has—” Her aunt stopped, seeming to swallow the words. “Never mind about him. It’s been two years since Travis died. You’re a young woman. It’s natural you should love again.”

“I didn’t intend it. I thought William was just a friend. But love crept up on me.”

“So if that’s the case, why did you turn him down?” Aunt Paula shook her head. “Mind, I wish he was Mennonite, but it’s not so big a difference. And he’s not been baptized and joined the church yet, so there’s nothing to keep him from changing.”

Aunt Paula had made her smile, just when Hannah thought that might never happen again. “You can stop arranging William’s future, because I told him no.”

“But why? You haven’t given me one gut reason why you shouldn’t marry him.”

“I can give you several.” Her throat was tightening again, aching with tears at the thought of William’s face when she’d turned him down. “It’s too soon. We’ve barely realized our feelings. We can’t jump into marriage just because of this trouble with Robert. We need time. Besides, William was doing the same thing with me that he did with Rachel—wanting to take care of us. That’s not a strong enough basis for a marriage.”

“Ach, I see now. William thinks you would withstand Robert better if you were married.”

Hannah nodded, suddenly too tired to keep going over it. She’d said no, and that was an end to it.

“Maybe William is right. You need all the support you can find to fight Robert.”

“Not that.” She put her face in her hands, feeling the weight of her fear dragging her down. “It’s just—even if we win, going to court will be so awful. For all of us. Maybe I should just give in. Move away, start over again somewhere else. Then Robert would go away and leave us alone.”

Aunt Paula grabbed her hands and pulled them away from her face. “You stop talking like that, you hear? You are a strong woman, Hannah Conroy. You will not be like your mamm, giving in and going along instead of standing for what is right. You will not!”

Hannah could only stare at her. “I never thought I’d hear you tell me not to be like my mamm.”

“I loved my sister dearly, but that doesn’t mean I was blind to her faults.” She flushed a little. “I love you and Jamie for yourselves. You are a strong woman, my Hannah, and you will fight. Ja?”

Hannah nodded. “Ja.” She would fight back. But still she prayed that it wouldn’t be necessary. That somehow Robert would see that he was wrong.

The phone rang. She started to get up, but Aunt Paula waved her back and went to answer it herself. Hannah heard the murmur of her soft-voiced conversation, background for her own thoughts.

How could she have considered giving up, even for a moment? She was where she belonged.

And if she was right about that, God would surely show her the path.

Aunt Paula hung up the phone, her expression odd, as if she didn’t know quite what to make of the caller.

“What is it?” Apprehension rose in Hannah.

“That was Nancy Russo. She says that they have been trying. That we should be at their house tomorrow at eleven to talk to Robert.”

So. Hannah didn’t know whether to be glad or sorry. Nancy and her husband were trying—she didn’t say they’d succeeded.

Now she wouldn’t have to wait, nerves stretched, wondering when Robert would turn up. She would see him at eleven, and she’d know, one way or the other.

*   *   *

William
had half expected things might be different between him and Caleb when he went in to work on Monday morning, but Caleb was the same as ever. If he’d been offended because William had rejected his advice, he did not show it.

As it turned out, Caleb had been right about one thing. William had gotten hurt. A real pain, this time, not the embarrassment and humiliation he’d felt when Rachel turned him down.

This was an active hurt in his chest, so real that he almost felt like rubbing it, to see if that would make it go away. But he knew better.

Hannah had said no. He had to accept that answer. He didn’t have a choice.

William finished assembling the quilt stand he’d been working on and set it aside for the glue to dry before sanding and varnishing.

“Shall I s-start o-on another?” The quilt stands sold well, being small enough for a tourist to easily take home in the trunk of a car.

“How do you feel about rocking chairs?” Caleb grinned, looking a bit like someone who had a secret.

“Ja, I-I like f-fine to make them.”

“Gut thing.” The grin was even broader now. “Because a store over in Lewisburg wants to start selling them, and they’ve asked for ten to start with.”

“T-ten?” Now William understood the grin. “Th-that’s a b-big order, ain’t so?”

“For sure. And it’s all because of those letters you wrote. I’d never even thought of it, but you were right. He looks like he’ll be a steady customer, and who knows how many others will respond, too?” Caleb paused. “That being so, I surely could use you full-time. If you’re willing, there’s enough work here for both of us. What do you say?”

For a moment William couldn’t say the words. Then he smiled back at Caleb, the pain easing a little. “I s-say ja, for sure. That s-suits m-me fine.”

“Gut.” Caleb clapped his shoulder. “Let’s get started then.”

They laid out the work, figuring the most efficient way to put together that many rockers. Caleb was a careful craftsman, and he wanted to be sure they could fill the order quickly without sacrificing quality.

William appreciated Caleb’s attitude. He felt that way as well. Nothing should go out of the shop that they wouldn’t want to have in their own homes.

Ten o’clock came and went, the time when William usually headed for the bakery and their morning coffee. He didn’t move, and Caleb made no comment, asked no questions.

Finally Caleb cleared his throat. “Something I’ve been wanting to say.”

William looked up from his work, waiting.

“I should have said it all yesterday. But the other day, when we talked . . . I spoke out of turn, William. I’ve been sorry for it ever since. If someone had tried to interfere between me and Katie, I wouldn’t have liked it, no matter what their intentions were. So I’m sorry.”

William nodded. “I-it’s okay.”

He wasn’t ready to tell Caleb what had happened between him and Hannah. Maybe he never would be. Somehow he didn’t see Hannah talking about it either, unless maybe it was to her aunt.