He turned back to the work, trying to focus his attention there. Still, his mind kept straying back to those moments with Hannah beside the stream.
She hadn’t said she didn’t love him. In fact, she’d admitted that she cared for him. But she wouldn’t marry him.
He’d been foolish to think marriage to him was a solution to Hannah’s problems. If there had been a chance for them before he spoke, it was blown to pieces for sure now.
If Hannah gave in to her father-in-law, she’d leave. He didn’t want to imagine a future without her, even though it was also impossible to imagine a future in which they’d be married and happy together.
She’d intrigued him from the first, her gentleness a contrast to the difficult life he knew she’d had. And then she’d helped him, seeing in him the man he wanted to be instead of the boy others thought him.
She’d given him confidence, setting him free of the fear that used to fill him each time he opened his lips to speak.
If she left, if he could no longer even see her, Pleasant Valley would be a sad place for him.
Someone was coming up the stairs. He and Caleb both looked up, expecting Becky, who’d been cleaning the windows down in the shop. But it was Naomi who walked briskly up the stairs and came to the bench where William was working.
“N-Naomi? I-is something wrong?”
“I thought you should know.” Her forehead furrowed, eyes dark with concern. “Hannah and Paula are going over to the Russo house at eleven. Hannah is supposed to meet with her father-in-law there. To try and settle things between them.” She paused, studying his face as if measuring the impact of her words on him. “Someone should be there to support them, I think. Paula wants me to keep the bakery open, but someone should be there.
You
should be there, William.”
He put down the chair leg he was holding in his hand. “Did Hannah say she wanted me?”
“No.” The word was stark. “But she needs you.” She stood, waiting.
If he went, uninvited, it might make Hannah angry with him. But did that really matter, if he could help her?
He glanced from Naomi to Caleb. And he knew what he must do.
“Denke, Naomi. I will go now.”
He strode quickly to the steps and hurried down. Hannah needed him. He could not stay away.
C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
H
annah
found it hard to let go of Jamie long enough even to put him in the stroller. Logic told her that Robert couldn’t possibly succeed in taking Jamie away, but logic couldn’t quite overcome the fear.
That task would take faith, perhaps more faith than she had. She gripped the stroller handle tightly as they waited to cross the street, words tumbling over each other in her mind.
Please, Father. You know that I am trying to do my best for my son. You know that I love him more than anything. Soften Robert’s heart. Take away the bitterness he feels, and help him to truly listen.
Aunt Paula touched her hand as they started across the street. “I am praying, too,” she said softly. “God will surely hear our prayers.”
Hannah nodded, trying to picture Travis’s face in her mind. If Travis were here, would he know how to reach his father’s heart? But if Travis were here, none of this would be happening. She reached down, touching the photo album she’d tucked into the stroller. If William had been right, and Robert was motivated by his guilt over failing his son, maybe the memories Travis had preserved in the photo album could help her now.
She felt Aunt Paula’s gaze on her face.
“It will be all right,” her aunt said. “God will be with us.”
“I know. I try not to worry, but . . .” Just as she tried not to think of William. Of his proposal.
If she’d said yes, William would be beside her now. She could borrow his strength when her own seemed to flag. But she had done the right thing. She had to believe that. She couldn’t let William marry her out of need—hers or his.
The walk to Phil and Nancy Russo’s house wasn’t quite long enough. Hannah felt a flicker of panic as they turned in the front gate. Where were the words that would sway Robert from his course?
Robert’s car was parked at the curb in front of the house. He was here already, then. She took a breath, her gaze on the paving stones as they approached the door.
Someone moved, coming toward them across the grass. It was William, and in spite of herself her heart leaped at the sight of him.
“William. What are you doing here?” She tried to sound cool and composed, but suspected she didn’t manage it.
“You w-would not accept me as your h-husband, Hannah,” he said, his voice steady, his eyes as clear and untroubled as a mountain lake. “What about as a f-friend?”
She couldn’t refuse, especially when Jamie was standing up in the stroller, shouting out his happiness at seeing William. Especially when she felt like doing the same. She nodded.
William nodded back, his expression grave. Then he bent over Jamie, his face easing in a smile. “Ja, hush, little schnickelfritz. I see you.” He lifted Jamie in his arms and straightened. “R-ready?”
Maybe it wasn’t the most conciliating move she could make, arriving with William at her side, but that didn’t seem to matter at the moment. She reached for the doorbell.
Nancy must have been watching for them, because she opened the door immediately. “Please, come in.” Her gesture welcomed them into the living room at the front of the house.
Hannah stepped inside. Her father-in-law and Phil sat in the two large upholstered chairs nearest the fireplace, almost as if aligned against her. A flicker of fear went through her. What if this was some sort of a setup?
Nancy, who might have guessed Hannah’s thought, turned from greeting William and Aunt Paula to touch Hannah’s arm, her smile warm and reassuring.
“Please, come and sit down.” Nancy drifted about like any hostess, making sure her guests were comfortable.
Hannah ended up on the sofa, with William sitting next to her and Aunt Paula opposite them. Jamie, suddenly afflicted with shyness, leaned against William’s knee, one finger in his mouth. Hannah’s heart wrenched at the sight.
Robert’s frown deepened. Clearly he didn’t take any pleasure in Jamie’s obvious fondness for an Amish man. Or would he feel the same about any man?
“I don’t see what good this is doing.” Robert’s tone was almost a growl. “I’m not going to change my mind.” His gaze focused on Hannah. “Your friend called me. Tried to talk me out of this. But I’ve seen for myself.”
Hannah stared at him blankly. “My friend? Do you mean Megan?”
“Yes, Megan. I suppose you put her up to calling me, figuring she could get me to change my plans.”
“No. I didn’t know she was going to call you.” But joy bubbled up in her at the thought. Megan had tried to fix this mess. She was on Hannah’s side, whatever her reservations about Hannah’s choices.
Robert obviously didn’t believe her, but Hannah let that slide away. It didn’t matter. It was enough to know that Megan had tried to help.
Nancy looked at her husband, and Phil cleared his throat.
“Robert, I haven’t known you very long, but we have a lot in common. We retired military stick together, right?”
Robert gave a grudging nod.
“Well, we . . . Nancy and I . . . just want to help settle this so no one gets hurt. That’s all.”
“It’s easily settled.” Robert glanced at Hannah and just as quickly looked away. “All Hannah has to do is agree to go back to a normal life, and I’ll drop the suit. If money is a problem, I’ll even help with that. That’s fair, isn’t it?”
Aunt Paula swelled, as if about to burst out, and Hannah shook her head. They’d have their turn before this visit was over. But right now Phil and Nancy were fighting the battle for them, and Robert was far more likely to hear what they had to say.
“What is so bad about living here in Pleasant Valley?” Nancy asked. “After all, we live here. It’s a pretty nice place to raise a child.”
“That’s not the point.” Robert shook his head irritably, like a horse chasing off flies. “Look at the way Hannah’s dressed.” He flung out a hand toward her. “The last time I saw her, she looked like any other military wife. Now she’s like something out of a history book. You think that’s normal?”
Hannah pressed her lips together, reminding herself to take her own advice and let Nancy continue in her own way.
Nancy smiled, shaking her head a little. “You know, Robert, that’s kind of how I felt when Phil took me along to his first posting after we were married. Everywhere I looked, all I could see was khaki. I couldn’t tell one rank from another—I couldn’t even recognize my own husband when his unit marched by unless I was close enough to see his face. It nearly drove me crazy.”
Robert looked momentarily buffaloed by the comparison. “But—that’s different. A military uniform shows you belong to the service.”
“Yes, of course it does.” Nancy’s voice was gentle, persuasive. “I learned to respect that uniform, knowing what it stood for. Just as I respect the clothing worn by the Plain people, knowing what it stands for.”
“That’s just my point.” The words burst out of Robert. “Those people are against everything my son believed in.”
“We’re not.” This time Hannah had to speak for herself. “We just believe in living lives of nonviolence.”
“Same thing. That’s like saying Travis’s death didn’t matter.” Robert’s tone was harsh, but tears stood in his eyes, and Hannah knew they were near the heart of his reaction.
“That’s not it at all.” The bishop’s words seemed to echo in Hannah’s mind, and she tried to rephrase them. “We know that God has called us to live in peace with our neighbors. But we don’t judge what God has called others to do. No one in the church would look down on Travis because he was a soldier. No one would deny his sacrifice.”
“Your son lay down his life for his friends,” Aunt Paula said. Her resentment toward Robert seemed to have vanished, as if she only now saw the depth of his pain. “The Bible says there is no greater love than that.”
“Please, Robert.” Hannah’s heart prayed even as she spoke. “Please understand what we’re saying. Don’t ask me to leave the love and support Jamie and I have found here.”
“If you stay here you’ll marry him.” Robert jerked his head toward William. “A blind person can see how you feel about each other. What will he teach my grandson about his father?”
Hannah started to speak, but William stopped her with a touch.
“I asked Hannah to m-marry me. She said no.” He paused, but she sensed he wasn’t finished when he glanced at her, his blue eyes filled with love. “If she changes her mind, I w-would love and care f-for Jamie like my own child. But I would not let him forget his father. I w-would teach him to h-honor his father’s sacrifice. And I would want you t-to be part of his life.”
Hannah’s heart twisted in her chest. She had denied William’s love, but still he was here, beside her, defending her. He barely stuttered at all as he spoke what was in his heart.
She wasn’t alone in her tears. Robert brushed a tear away almost angrily.
“I don’t . . . I can’t . . .” He stopped, shaking his head. “I was never there when my boy needed me.”
There it was. The stark, simple truth that Robert had been trying to hide, from himself most of all.
“You’re wrong, Robert.” Hannah took the faded album from the stroller and carried it to Robert. He took it, his eyes evading hers.
“What’s this?” His tone was gruff.
“Something your son cherished,” Hannah said. She reached out to flip the album open, so that the photos showed . . . photos of the young boy Travis had been, standing next to a man in uniform. “There are pictures here from every leave you ever spent together, Travis said. Those memories were important to him. He was so proud of you. Even when the two of you didn’t get along, he never stopped being proud.”
Robert stared down at the images for what seemed a long time. His shoulders shook, and a tear dropped onto the page.
William stood, holding Jamie’s small hand in his large one, and led her son over to Robert. Then he squatted next to Jamie.
“Grandpa i-is sad,” he said, with the gentleness that characterized everything he did. “G-give him a hug.”
Jamie hesitated for a moment. Then he held up his arms to Robert.
Robert bent slowly, awkwardly. He hugged his grandson. Then he looked at Hannah, his cheeks wet with tears.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Hannah nodded, her own tears flowing. The battle was over.
* * *
William
waited behind the bakery that evening, sitting in the swing on the back porch. Dusk came earlier now, and the evening air had a chill to it.
He could see the light from Jamie’s bedroom window where it filtered through the trees. Hannah was putting her son to bed. He could wait.
Even as he thought it, the light went off. He sat, the swing creaking slightly. Give her a few more minutes to be sure Jamie was settled for the night, and then he’d knock.
Movement flickered beyond the glass in the door. Hannah opened it and came out, drawing a shawl around her shoulders.
“I thought maybe you’d be here.” Her voice was calm and tranquil in the aftermath of the storm.
“I am,” he said.
Hannah crossed the porch and sat down next to him, the swing creaking again. She glanced up at the chain. “Will it hold both of us?”
“Ja.” He put his arm along the back of the swing, not quite touching her, not wanting to assume anything. “It needs oil. I w-will fix it.”
She leaned back, into his arm. “You’re good at fixing things.”
“I did not d-do much.” He didn’t pretend not to understand that she was talking about Robert. “He already knew h-he was wrong, ain’t so?”
“Probably. It was just as you said. He was blinded by his own guilt. If he had come to me sooner, been a part of our lives, we might have grieved together.”
“Ja.” He settled her comfortably against his shoulder. “Now I think h-he will try to be a gut grossdaadi.”
He felt, rather than saw, her smile. “I’m not sure he knows how.”
“We w-will help him. If you l-let me.” He waited, and it seemed his breath caught in his throat.
Hannah touched his free hand. “Are you sure this is what you want? When you asked me to marry you, it was because I was in trouble and you wanted to help, but—”
“I w-wanted to help because I love you. That has not changed.”
She loved him. He felt sure of her feelings now. But she still might not be ready for marriage.
“I want to m-marry you,” he went on. “To be a d-daadi to Jamie. If you are not ready, I will wait.”
“Would you?” She didn’t look up at him, but he heard a smile in her voice.
“I would w-wait. But sooner is better, ja?”
She tilted her head back to look up at him then, and in the joy on her face he read her answer even before she spoke.
“I love you, William. I thought that it was too soon, that I only felt this way because of the problem with Robert. But now I see that the trouble only showed me the feelings that were already there. I love you, and I’ll marry you whenever you want. But . . .”
A shadow crossed the joy, and he knew what caused it. He held her hand in his, cherishing the feel of it.
“I have been thinking on this,” he said. “And if y-you gave up driving a car, and I gave up home worship, w-we maybe are meant to be horse-and-buggy Mennonites. What do you think of that?”
The answer had been in the back of his mind for a while. This was the reason he had never felt ready to be baptized—because God had something else in store for him. Probably neither family would be best pleased about the choice, but they would get used to it. More important was what Hannah thought.
Her answer wasn’t long in coming. She smiled, and all the hope and joy of a future together seemed contained in that smile.
“I think you are very smart, William Brand.” She raised her face for his kiss.