Her Brother's Keeper (6 page)

Closing her eyes, she thought about Ethan, hoping he was in such a place.

Three

I
saac looked at the clock on the wall, knowing a hundred people would be piling into the house for worship service soon. Hosting church fell on each family every nine or ten months, and a lot of extra work went into getting everything ready. The house had a fresh coat of paint, the yard was freshly mowed, low tree branches trimmed, shrubs and flower beds manicured, and his mother had been hard at work on the inside. He glanced out the window at his father sitting in a rocker on the porch, then turned to his left when he heard his mother's footsteps.

“He seems to be having a good day so far,” she said as she touched Isaac's arm. Anna Ruth Miller smiled, and Isaac nodded as he recalled the way their lives had been before his father got cancer. Everything had changed three years ago. Isaac remembered exactly where he
was when he got the news. He'd been on his way to ask Hannah King out, finally, after years of dating other girls that weren't right for him. But Hannah had always had a long list of suitors, and for once . . . neither one of them were seeing other people. By Amish standards, they were both well overdue to get married, but following his father's diagnosis, Isaac assumed the role as head of the household, and Ethan slipped into town and stole Hannah's heart before Isaac even had a chance to try.

Sometimes, Isaac wondered if he was even worthy of Hannah's love. He'd sensed that Ethan might be in trouble, but he'd let jealousy creep into his heart and hadn't made an effort to help. Isaac believed that he'd failed God—and Hannah—by not doing more for Ethan. He knew that God had forgiven him, even if Isaac struggled to forgive himself.

He walked out onto the porch, looped his thumbs beneath his suspenders, and peered out over the yard into the pastures. Over a hundred acres to tend. It had been tough when there were two of them doing it, and now it was only Isaac. They were blessed to have good employees at the furniture store. Isaac went in once a day, but without Phyllis and Tom, he'd be lost.

“Sohn
, everything looks
gut
. I know your
mamm
gets anxious when it's our turn to host worship.” His father carefully stood up and eased toward Isaac.
Daed
was still getting used to a prosthetic leg. “You've done a fine job readying up the yard.”

“Danki.”
Isaac had hoped that the new leg attached at his father's knee might be more comfortable and allow his father to at least do a little bit around the house. The cancer was in remission, and his
daed
seemed to have more good days than bad.

A line of buggies was heading up the driveway, and Hannah was in one of them. Just knowing that sent Isaac's heart to racing. Maybe it was time to leave the past behind him. He couldn't bring Ethan back, but he could love Hannah with all his heart if she'd let him.

“I'm going to ask out Hannah King,” he said to his father, giving a taut nod. When his father didn't respond, Isaac turned to him, lifting a hand to his forehead to block the sun rising behind
Daed
.

His father was losing his footing, and if Isaac hadn't caught him by the arm, he would have fallen. He helped his father back to the rocking chair.

“I'm still a clumsy man.”
Daed
shook his head, sighing. “Now, what were you saying?”

Isaac looked out at the buggies getting closer, then back at his father. “I-I was thinking about asking out Hannah.” He turned to his father, who was scowling.

“I've heard that
maedel
is still brokenhearted. Probably best not to pursue her. You might end up with a broken heart as well.”

“It's a chance I'm willing to take.” Isaac watched Hannah stepping out of one of the buggies. He was tired of living in regret.

“I guess I could sell this place,” his father said, sighing again.

Isaac looked at his father. “What? You can't do that. This farm has been in our family for four generations.”

“Isaac . . .”
Daed
stroked his long gray beard. “I'm not able to tend this place on my own.”

“You can't sell it.” Isaac reached for his father's arm when he struggled to push himself up from the chair. Normally, Isaac's parents would have moved to the
daadi haus
on their property, but the old house was in need of repairs—repairs that should have been started on years ago. It wasn't livable anymore, and Isaac didn't know when he'd fit that into his schedule. Others in the community would lend a hand, but these days, everyone stayed busy. It was hard to make a living just farming, and many had turned to an outside source of income, the way Isaac's family had with the furniture store. Although, for the past three years, Miller's Furniture Store had been mostly dependent on consignment pieces.

“It only makes sense that you should leave here, marry, and have a family. Your
mamm
and I can make do in a small
haus
, something we can take care of.”

“Mamm
loves this place,” he said softly as he watched Hannah coming up the sidewalk.

Charlotte smiled at Isaac Miller as she followed Hannah on the sidewalk. She couldn't believe she was going to have to sit on a wooden bench for three hours, listening to a church service in a foreign language, about a subject she didn't know anything about. Even someone as attractive as Isaac couldn't provide enough of a distraction for this. At least they only held church service every two weeks.

Lena introduced Charlotte to everyone, and several people spoke to Charlotte in Dutch. She quickly realized that memorizing a few words and sayings wasn't going to make her proficient overnight. And based on some of the strange expressions, she was failing miserably. Eventually, she pointed to her throat and whispered, “Sore.” But she caught the look between Lena and Hannah, pretty sure they were on to her.

She spent the three hours on the bench plotting another lie, one that she hoped her pretend Amish cousins would believe. Otherwise, it was going to be a long month trying to fake her way through conversations.

Hannah and Lena headed directly to the kitchen following the worship service. All of the men left the house, and Charlotte could see most of them making their way to the barn. Charlotte shuffled into the kitchen with the other ladies, and even small children were gathering plates, food, and utensils to carry out to tables that were set up outside.
Nothing like baking in the
August heat.
She thought about Texas and how much hotter it was at home, and she made a mental note not to complain too much.

As Charlotte carried a tray of pickles outside, Hannah and Lena got in step with her. Hannah spoke to her in Dutch, then smiled. Charlotte had chatted in English with some of the other women in the kitchen earlier, so pointing to her throat wasn't going to work again. But she didn't feel like this was the time to break into the story she'd prepared. So, instead, she said,
“Gut, gut.”
She realized she hadn't retained much of what she'd read in her dictionary. Hannah glanced at her mother and then at Charlotte, and she knew that she'd not given an appropriate response. Hannah nodded, then turned to her mother as they laid out food. Hannah spoke to her mother. In Dutch
.

“She doesn't understand a word we are saying,” Hannah said to her mother. “You heard what I asked her.”

Her mother waited until Mary was out of earshot before she put her hands on her hips and whispered, “'Tis tacky for you to trick her like that.”

Hannah grinned. “I thought it was funny. I asked her what her favorite color is, and she said
gut
. Because that seems to be the only word she knows.”

Mamm
dropped her arms to her sides and sighed.
“I'm sure there is a reason her people don't speak the
Deitsch
. And the Lord would not approve of you intentionally deceiving her like that.”

“He also wouldn't approve of her pretending to know the language. That's lying.” Hannah walked with her mother back to the house. Mary brushed past them with a tray of glasses filled with iced tea.

“We will speak with her later about this. Not now.”
Mamm
opened the screen door for Hannah to go in first, but out of the corner of her eye, Hannah saw Mary walking toward Isaac. He was washing his hands at the pump. Mary would be wasting her time with him. Several of Hannah's friends had tried to get Isaac to take an interest in them, but Isaac stayed busy taking care of his parents and had no part of it. Hannah had known Isaac all her life, and she'd watched the wonderful man he'd grown into. But there had been opportunities in the past, before Isaac's father became ill, for Isaac to ask Hannah out, and he never had. Besides, Hannah's heart still ached for Ethan. She wasn't sure when she would be ready to date again. But if there was one man in their community that could make Hannah consider dating again, it was surely Isaac Miller.

Charlotte wondered if Isaac might provide a nice distraction while she was here. His muscular body was evident
beneath his blue shirt, black slacks, and suspenders that strained against his broad chest. His dark hair was cut like every other Amish man, and his cropped bangs fell above dark-blue eyes. Hannah had told her he wasn't married. But she figured that out right away because he was clean-shaven. She quickened her steps until she was right beside him, all the while hoping that he would speak to her in English.

“Hi, we haven't met. I'm Mary.” She waited for Isaac to finish washing his hands before she extended hers. He stood tall and hesitated for a few seconds, but eventually wiped his palms on his black slacks and latched on with a firm grip.

“Wie bischt?”

Finally.
A phrase she was familiar with. “I'm
gut
,” she said, then quickly added, “It's hot out here, but not as hot as in Texas. That's where I'm from.” She wanted to set the tone for the conversation and ensure that it would be in English.