Her Brother's Keeper (11 page)

H
annah stood next to her mother at the kitchen window. Mary had rushed to the barn when she saw Isaac pulling up in his buggy, and now they were smiling and laughing.

“Isaac must really like Cousin Mary. She told me that they are going on a date tomorrow.”
Mamm
kept her eyes glued to the two of them, which was probably a good thing because she didn't see Hannah scowling. “I think it's wonderful that Isaac is starting to date again. He's spent so much time tending to his parents; he deserves someone special in his life.”

“Mamm . . .”
Hannah folded her arms across her chest and struggled to keep the agitation from her voice. “First of all, Mary won't be here very long. And did you know that Mary was the one who asked Isaac out?”

Her mother didn't pull her gaze away, but smiled. “I think that's just fine.”

Hannah shook her head. “I don't know how you can say that. It's not appropriate.” She moved away from the window, poured a cup of
kaffi
, and sat down at the kitchen table to read
die Botschaft
. She took a sip as she caught up on posts from relatives in Indiana. Anything to take her mind off of Mary and Isaac. After a few moments, her mother joined her.

“How are you and Mary getting along?” Hannah's mother pulled out the chair across the table from Hannah, but instead of coffee, her mother was sipping on goat milk, not a beverage Hannah enjoyed by itself.

Hannah marked her spot with her finger and shrugged. “We get along fine.” She recalled Mary's comment about heaven. “She's different. And I still don't think a woman should ask a man out on a date. I know the
Englisch
do that sometimes, but that doesn't make it right.”

“Hannah. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were jealous.”

Hannah dropped her jaw. “
Mamm!
That is not true. I am still grieving for Ethan. And besides, jealousy is a sin.”

“And we all sin from time to time,” her mother said as she put a hand on Hannah's. “I know how much you loved Ethan, but it's been a year, Hannah. If you have an interest in Isaac, you need to talk to Mary about it since she is only here visiting.”

Hannah started shaking her head as tears filled her eyes. Even all this time later, she felt guilty for considering the feelings she might have for Isaac.

Her mother leaned against the back of the chair and took a long sip of milk. “Ethan would want you to be happy. He would not begrudge you going out with Isaac. We all know that Isaac is a wonderful man.”

Hannah blinked her eyes a few times as guilt and sadness turned to anger, which was possibly brought on by jealousy, making her mother right. But Hannah was not about to admit it. “No matter the situation, Isaac and Mary are going out tomorrow, and I think we owe it to both of them to see if they might have a chance together.” She heard the words leap through her lips and knew it was the truth, but they left a bad taste in her mouth.

“The Lord might have put Mary in your life for a reason, Hannah. You've withdrawn so much since Ethan's death, and I think sometimes people avoid you because they don't know what to say.”

Hannah knew this to be true. Even her closest friends kept their distance these days. “Maybe.”

“I would like Mary to stay longer. I mentioned it to her in passing, but the subject hasn't come up again. She's already been here a week. It seems like she just got here yesterday. You know, her great-aunt and uncle aren't living anymore. And she doesn't have anyone courting her.”
Mamm
took a sip of the thick milk, and it left a white mustache. Hannah smiled and pointed to her own upper lip.
Mamm
chuckled as she dabbed at the spot. “How would you feel about that?”

“I'm sure she has people in Texas to return to, but it's up
to her.” Sometimes Hannah could feel a friendship forming, and maybe with more time, she'd grow even closer to Mary. Or would her cousin only grow close to Isaac?

Mamm
sat taller, put her palms on the table, and smiled. “I will talk to her later.” She nodded toward the window. “Maybe more than a friendship can grow and she'll end up staying here.”

Hannah scowled. “
Mamm
, they're just talking.”

Her mother raised an eyebrow. “You just never know who the heart will choose. Who God will choose.”
Mamm
stood up and pressed her hands together in prayer, closed her eyes, and looked toward the ceiling. “I'm going to pray that both of them will find true love if it's God's will.”

Hannah forced a smile, then walked to the window. Mary and Isaac were still talking. Maybe they would choose each other.

Hannah wrapped her hand around the back of her neck.
Who will ever choose me?

Isaac chuckled at another one of Mary's stories. She'd surely experienced things that Isaac couldn't imagine, but it made him want to travel to Texas someday—to see longhorns, bluebonnets, and maybe even a cowboy. And he'd sure like to try one of the
kolaches
Mary spoke of, fluffy pastries with sweet fillings like poppy seed, prune, and apricot.

“And your
mamm
never found the baby armadillos?” he asked when Mary was done with her tale.

“Nope. My friend and I raised the four babies in an old doghouse in the backyard. They looked like pink little rats, but what could we do? They didn't have a mother.” Mary looked away as she blinked her eyes a few times. The friend was Ethan, but she didn't think she should mention that she had a brother since none of Hannah's family thought she had any siblings. “That was a long time ago.”

Isaac studied her for a few moments. She was pretty with golden-blond hair framing a tanned face peeking from beneath her bonnet, and she had deep-brown eyes. But when he glanced toward the house, he found himself wishing Hannah would come outside. He couldn't help but wonder if he'd read Hannah's expression wrong at the furniture store when she'd avoided making eye contact with him. She'd fidgeted with the string on her
kapp
, as if maybe she was bothered that Isaac would be going on a picnic with her cousin.

He wondered what kind of community Mary came from, where it was okay for a woman to ask out a man.

“Um . . . since you already visited our furniture store, are you . . . are we . . .”

“I would still love to go on a picnic.” She took a step toward him as she spoke, smiling. Isaac glanced at the King farmhouse again, but all was quiet.

“Gut.
Okay.”

Isaac wanted to straighten Mary's prayer covering. It was always lopsided. But he didn't want to embarrass her.

She raised both eyebrows and smiled until tiny dimples formed on her cheeks.

“And remember, I said I'll bring the food.”

They settled on a time, and Isaac went on his way, back to the store. It had been so long since Isaac had been out with a woman, he couldn't help but feel a little anxious. Even if he did wish that it was Hannah he'd be spending the day with.

Charlotte helped Hannah set the table for lunch—
dinner,
she reminded herself—while Lena finished running the clothes through the wringer washing machine.

“Mamm
said she mentioned you staying a bit longer with us.” Hannah made the statement in a way that Charlotte couldn't decipher. She wasn't sure if Hannah wanted her to stay. Would Lena or Hannah want to stay in touch when Charlotte went back to Texas? She hoped not. With each passing day, she felt worse about the lies, and to keep in touch would just be continuing the deceit.

“Oh. I don't want to inconvenience y'all.” She cringed, wishing she'd remember to sound more Amish.

“It wouldn't be an inconvenience,” Hannah said as she placed a fruit salad on the table. “
Mamm
enjoys having you here.”

Charlotte pondered the comment.

The screen door in the living room slammed. Amos and Jacob were home for lunch. The familiar smell of sweat, manure, and hay wafted into the kitchen with the men, although it was a fraction of the odor they'd bring in at the end of the day. Despite their straw hats, both father and son sported a bronze tan, although Amos's face had a web of wrinkles from years of outdoor work.

Jacob didn't strike Charlotte as the poster child for the Amish. Not only had she caught him sneaking out of the house a couple of times, his hair was longer than most, and he rattled on about politics, space, movies, and places he wanted to go—most notably to the moon or Mars. And such conversations always drew criticism from Lena.

After they'd all prayed, Jacob said, “I bought a telescope with the money I've saved working side jobs.” The sixteen-year-old sat taller and raised his chin, seeming to know that at least one of his parents would challenge him. Amos spoke up first.

“What is this telescope? A phone?” Amos bit into a slice of bread, and Charlotte hurried to nab her own piece.

“It's an instrument to look into space,” Jacob answered with a mouthful of chicken.

Charlotte was aware that Amish kids were allowed some liberties when they turned sixteen. Supposedly, it was a time for them to experience the outside world, then decide if they wanted to be baptized into the Amish faith. Although, she couldn't imagine why anyone would stay
here when there was an entire world, away from buggies and primitive living, to experience.

“Nee
, that is a luxury,” Lena said firmly. “What do you think the bishop would say?”

Charlotte had seen the bishop at their church services, but the way everyone talked about this guy, he was judge, jury, and executioner, so to speak.

“There is nothing wrong with me wanting to educate myself about the world we live in,” Jacob said defiantly enough to draw a scowl from his father.
Go Jacob
, Charlotte thought.

“You have all the schooling you need,” Lena said, huffing out the words. “I hope you didn't spend much on this space seeker.”

Charlotte fought a smile and stuffed more bread in her mouth.

“It's my money to spend.” Jacob spat the words out like any normal teenager.

“You return it. We don't need such worldly things here.” Lena sat taller and sighed loudly.

“Nee
, I'm not. It's coming on the package truck. And I'm keeping it.”

Amos laid his fork noisily on his plate, which was still half-full of chicken, potatoes, and green beans. “You will watch your voice with your
mamm
.” After directing the comment to Jacob, Amos turned to Lena. “He can keep the space seeker. He saved his money, and it won't hurt anything.”

“Nee
, Amos. What if the bishop sees it? What use is it? Why should he dabble with such things, and—”

“Stop, Lena.” Amos's voice was firm as he spoke to his wife, and Charlotte held her breath for a few moments while she waited for Lena to counter. But Lena was quiet.

Huh . . . she'd learned something new about the Amish folks today.
The man of the house runs the show.