Charlotte nodded and smiled as Hannah introduced her to the ladies at Sisters’ Day. Lena followed up by telling everyone that Charlotte was baptized into the faith as a teenager, and that she didn’t know much Pennsylvania Dutch. Charlotte had already met some of the women at church service, but it was hard to remember names.
“And this is Edna Glick,” Lena said as she introduced the petite brunette that Charlotte instantly recognized from the picture. She was even wearing the same color dress, dark green. Even beneath the baggy dress, it was apparent that this Amish woman had a great figure, and when she smiled, she was truly beautiful, even in the plain clothes and with no makeup. Charlotte reminded herself not to judge before she knew the facts.
“Edna is engaged to John Dienner,” Lena said, still toting a coconut pie she’d brought. “They will be getting married in November. I’m glad you finally published the news. We’re so happy for you.”
“Congratulations. How long have you and John been dating?” Charlotte asked, thankful for the opportunity to get to know a little more about Edna.
Edna waved a hand in the air. “A long time. Ach, I’ve lost track.” She glanced to an older woman standing to her left. “A year and a half, Mamm?”
“Ya. About that long.”
So, what were you doing at my brother’s house while you were dating this other guy?
Charlotte searched her mind for a way to bring up Ethan. She wanted to see Edna’s reaction, but Lena and Hannah might think it odd. And Hannah was still fragile talking about Ethan. Charlotte didn’t want to say anything to upset her. She thought about how much things had changed over the past three weeks—how much she had changed.
After the ladies had put their dishes on the kitchen table, Lena motioned for everyone to gather in a circle within the spacious living room. Charlotte quickly gave the room a once-over, noticing right away that it was more decorative than where she was temporarily living. Two colorful floral couches sat on either side of the room—pink, yellow, lime green, and pastel blue. An antique china cabinet took up most of the third wall and was filled with white china and serving dishes. And there were several decorative vases on the mantel above the fireplace. It didn’t look very Amishy to Charlotte. She wondered who enforced the rules. The bishop, she supposed. He must not get out much.
They bowed their heads and prayed. Just thinking about God made Charlotte feel like she would explode with emotion, so she heeded Ryan’s advice. God, please don’t let me cry. Whatever is happening, I’m trying to get on board, but I wish I understood why I’m reacting like this.
Hannah had already told her that the agenda for today was to plan a schedule for tending to the elderly for the next few months, and each of the ladies had also brought copies of a favorite recipe to share. Hannah had brought her recipe for cream of carrot soup, something Charlotte hadn’t expected to enjoy so much when Hannah had made it last week. And Lena was sharing her recipe for rhubarb custard bars, another favorite for Charlotte. It was hard to find rhubarb in Texas, but it was plentiful in Pennsylvania, and she loved the flavor. At first, Lena had insisted that they would copy each recipe by hand fifteen times. But Hannah convinced her it would be so much easier to go to town and make copies. Charlotte had offered to bring a recipe of her own, but Lena and Hannah declined her offer so quickly that it solidified to Charlotte that she was indeed an awful cook. She only hoped that once she got home, she’d be able to perfect making their bread.
“I’m so glad you brought the recipe for the cinnamon sticks, Edna.” Lena flipped through the various recipes in her hand. “The family enjoyed the ones you brought us.”
Charlotte cut her eyes in Edna’s direction, wishing there was some way to pick her brain about Ethan.
Once they’d all exchanged recipes, the four children stayed in the living room and formed a circle on the floor as the adults moved toward the kitchen. When the children began to sing softly, Charlotte wished she could stay with them. It was the sweetest, most innocent sound. Don’t cry. Good grief, this was getting ridiculous.
The women uncovered casseroles, put spoons in salads, and lathered butter on warm loaves of bread. Charlotte eyed the offerings, knowing that this was what she’d miss most when she went back to Texas. She flipped through the recipes hoping there would be one for the bread, but there wasn’t, so she slipped them in the pocket of her apron and looked around. In contrast to the living room, the kitchen was similar to Lena’s, bare except for plates stacked on one corner of the counter, along with silverware, napkins, and glasses. At the other end, four canisters, a hand can opener, and a lantern. Charlotte filled her plate to capacity and ate like she didn’t have a weight worry in the world, knowing there would be a hefty price to pay when she got home.
After two hours of eating, making a visitation schedule for shut-ins, and even gossiping a little, Lena, Charlotte, and Hannah packed up.
“What did you think?” Hannah asked from the front seat of the topless buggy. Charlotte had settled into the backseat when Lena took the reins in the front. “It still wonders me why you don’t have Sisters’ Day in your district. I thought all communities did this.”
Charlotte shook her head. “No.” She’d given up trying to use their dialect. She realized how easily lies can embed themselves into a person’s psyche. “Like Lena said, I was glad that Edna brought her recipe for those cinnamon sticks.” Maybe this would open up some conversation about the woman.
Lena clicked her tongue and set the horse into a steady trot. “Ya, ’tis a gut recipe, but I would change a few things.” Charlotte wasn’t surprised. Lena really was at the top of her game when it came to cooking. “I wouldn’t use store-bought bread, even though I know that’s easier. And I think that I’d flavor the cream cheese with pecans and honey. That would give the recipe a nice twist.” She looked over her shoulder at Charlotte. “I make all of our cream cheese from goats’ milk.”
Charlotte wasn’t sure she wanted to know the many uses for goat milk, but she nodded and smiled. She was stuffed, and these days, she was thankful for the baggy dresses, but also wondering if she was going to fit into her clothes when she got home.
“Edna seems . . . nice.” Charlotte didn’t talk to Edna long enough to know that, so she added, “I mean, since she brought you the cinnamon sticks awhile back, and she was friendly today. Are you good friends with her, Hannah?”
Hannah twisted sideways in the front seat and looked at Charlotte. Something in Hannah’s eyes hinted that there was a story here, but Charlotte wasn’t sure she was reading Hannah’s expression correctly.
Shrugging, Hannah said, “We used to be very close, but after Ethan died, I stopped doing much, and my relationships with my friends suffered.” She paused, sighing. “I just didn’t want to hear about boyfriends, engagements, weddings, or anything like that.”
Charlotte thought about the comment Ryan made early on, how Charlotte might be wrong about the Amish. No doubt, she had been. This was a loving family with genuine faith in a God that seemed to have blessed them abundantly. I wish I could stay here. If only I wouldn’t have to become Amish . . .
“Mary, we’re so blessed to have you here,” Lena said, as if reading Charlotte’s mind. “It wonders us if you might consider staying.”
Charlotte sat taller. “Staying?”
Lena glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “Ya. Live here with us. I’m sure you have friends in Texas, but you said your aunt and uncle aren’t living anymore. Maybe you would like to stay with us since we’re your family too.” She winked at Charlotte. “Just until you find someone to share your life with. Or . . . maybe you already have?”
“Uh, no.” Charlotte frowned. “I haven’t found anyone to share my life with.”
“Does that mean you’ll move here and live with us?” Hannah was still twisted in the seat, and she pressed her palms together and smiled. “That would be so gut.”
If Charlotte had predicted the outcome of this trip, she could have never come up with this scenario—that she would care for this family, become close friends with Hannah, and be offered a life here. “I-I don’t know. I am enjoying my time here though.”
“Just think about it,” Lena said. “It’s been so gut for Hannah, having you here, and of course, you’re family. We all want you to stay.”
The waterworks were threatening to spill. Again. Charlotte swallowed hard. She’d never had a real family, not anything like this. But despite the love and kindness that wrapped around her, this was not her world. Her life had electricity, hair salons, cars, and trendy clothes. She glanced down at her blue dress. “I don’t know, but thank you for having me here, and for the invitation to stay.”
Hannah reached for Charlotte’s hand. “Maybe you will marry Isaac?”
Charlotte stared at her for a while as she recalled telling Ryan that she wanted more of what Hannah had—kindness. The woman seemed to have eyes for Isaac, but she would stow it and be happy for Charlotte if something developed between them. She wanted to tell Hannah that she should pursue something with Isaac, but not quite yet. More and more, it didn’t seem disloyal to Ethan, especially after finding that picture. “No, no. It’s not like that.” We have nothing in common.
Charlotte stayed quiet, but the urge to fess up was bubbling to the surface again.
Hannah had just finishing mending some of Jacob’s trousers when she heard her mother throwing up in the bathroom. It was the second time this week. She set the pants aside and went to the downstairs bathroom that her parents used and knocked on the door.
“Mamm, are you okay?”
“Ya, ya.” Her mother opened the door holding a towel to her mouth, but quickly pulled it away. “Something I ate must not have settled well with me.”
“Maybe you just have a bug. Is there anything I can get for you?”
Mamm shook her head. “Nee. But I think I will lie down for a while. I’ll feel better after a nap.” She brushed past Hannah, then turned around. “Ach, I haven’t milked the goats yet this afternoon. Can you do that for me?”
“Ya, of course.”
Hannah filled a bucket with warm water and had just gotten to the barn when she heard horse hooves. They weren’t expecting anyone, and the buggy was too far away to see who was driving, so she got the first goat settled in the stanchion and began washing down the teats and udder. Lucy was her mother’s oldest goat that was still giving milk, so Hannah always started with her since she knew the routine.
She listened to the sound of the buggy getting closer. She didn’t want to interrupt Lucy’s flow, but she also didn’t want anyone knocking on the door and disturbing her mother. She kept her hands on the teats, alternating back and forth, occasionally breaking to blot her face with a towel. When she heard the visitor’s buggy come to a stop, she strained her neck until she could see out the barn window.
“Isaac.” She stopped milking when he walked into the barn. “You’re not here to drop off more money already, surely. What are you doing here?” She noticed he was carrying a paper bag with handles.
“Mamm said your mother left some serving pieces and a dish at Sisters’ Day, so I’m just returning them.” He lifted the bag and smiled. “I saw you walk into the barn, so I wondered if this might be milking time.”
Hannah pushed back sweaty strands of hair that had fallen forward and eased her legs closer together since she’d been straddling the milking bucket. “Danki. Mamm is napping, but Mary should be inside.” Although, she naps a lot too. “Do, um . . . do you want me to go get Mary?”
Isaac shook his head. “Nee, nee. I just came to drop these off.” He set the bag on the workbench, then pointed at the second opening in the stanchion. “Do you want me to help you?”
Hannah kept alternating her hands on the teats. “I’m sure you have plenty to do at your haus.” It went so much faster with two people, though. Hannah always offered to help her mother, but Mamm loved her babies and enjoyed milking each one of them. Her mother must be feeling really bad to ask Hannah to do this.
Isaac picked up the other milking stool and set it in front of the second stanchion. “I don’t mind.”
Hannah paused, reached for the other bucket, and handed it to him, deciding to accept his offer. “It’s not like milking cows, you know.” She resumed with Lucy while Isaac slipped a lead over one of the other goats and escorted her to the stanchion. “That’s Greta. Watch out for her. She lifts her leg and tries to kick, even with her head secured.”
Isaac sat down, his leg brushing against hers as he straddled the bucket. Hannah swallowed hard as her heartbeat sped up. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go find Mary?”
Isaac shook his head as he reached for Greta’s teats. “What’s different about milking goats?” He chuckled. “I’ve only ever milked a cow.”
“It takes a lot more strength in your arms. Even though a cow produces more milk from twice as many teats, a goat’s are much tougher, and . . .”
Hannah glanced at Isaac when she heard the first splatters of milk hitting the tin bucket. He just smiled.
“I think I got it.”
“Ya, you do,” she said almost in a whisper, instantly fearful that her voice might have sounded a bit suggestive, which surely hadn’t been the intent. “I think it’s so gut that you are starting to date. Mary is a lovely person.”
“Isn’t she going home soon?” Isaac didn’t look up or stop milking, but Hannah did.
“Isn’t that a strange thing to say about the woman you are seeing?” Hannah said, turning to face him.
Isaac also stopped milking. “It’s not like we’re really dating. Just friends.”
“I’m not understanding.” She resumed her milking, shaking her head.
“She’s the one who asked me out first, and I know she is going home soon. I was just being nice while she’s here and also trying not to hurt her feelings. But I’m probably going to have to cancel Saturday’s picnic.”
“Why?” Hannah hoped her relief wasn’t obvious.
Isaac sighed as he filled his pail twice as fast as Hannah’s. “It’s mei daed. Mamm and I have been trying to do things differently lately. I think the Englisch call it ‘tough love.’ We’ve been trying to get him to do more for himself and not depend on me and Mamm so much.”
“That’s a gut thing, though.” Hannah’s forearms were getting sore.
“I know. And I was going to start working on the daadi haus.” He turned to Hannah and smiled. “In case I want to get married someday, they’ll have a place to live and still be close by.”
Hannah felt herself blushing as she avoided Isaac’s eyes. “That also sounds like a gut idea.”
“But now, I don’t know when I’ll be able to.” He stopped filling the pail, pushed back the rim of his straw hat, and looked at Hannah. “There is something really wrong with mei daed.”
Isaac told Hannah a bizarre story about his daed’s to-do list.
“The only reason I’m here right now is because Mamm’s sister, mei Aenti Rebecca, and her two kinner are here for a visit today from just north of Pittsburgh. If not, I wouldn’t feel gut leaving Mamm alone with Daed.” Isaac stood up, his pail full, then motioned for Hannah to get up. “Let me finish that for you.”
“Danki.” Hannah stood up and stepped aside as Isaac’s large hands took over the task. “You don’t really think he would . . . hurt your mamm, do you?”
“They’ve taken to arguing a lot, but I would never have thought so.” He paused and looked up at Hannah. “Maybe he’s ab im kopp?”
“Ach, maybe. To write what he did on that list sounds off in the head to me. Did you show your mudder what he wrote?”
“Nee, but I told her.” Isaac blew out a long breath. “At first, she slapped a hand to her chest and her eyes got big. But a few seconds later, she burst out laughing and said I was silly to worry.” He handed Hannah the full pail and stood up. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know.” She felt herself blush again. “Maybe ask Mary. She didn’t become Amish until she was older. She is more worldly than us about some things.”
Isaac took a step closer to Hannah, enough so that she was aware of the onions she’d had earlier on a sandwich. “I’d rather know what you think,” he said in a whisper as Hannah gazed into his eyes.
They both turned toward the barn door when they heard it being pushed open.
“Hey, you two. What are y’all up to out here?”
Hannah picked up the other pail full of milk and started toward the door without looking at Isaac or Mary. “Isaac brought back some things Mamm left at Sisters’ Day. They are on the workbench. Can you grab them, Mary, when you come in?”
“Sure.”
Hannah squeezed through the partially open barn door, sloshing milk as she hurried across the yard toward the house.
She wasn’t sure what had just happened, but she realized that another day had slipped by without her thinking about Ethan, and guilt wrapped around her like a jacket that was too small. Was she growing out of her grief? Was it time to move on? What about Mary? She put the two small pails in the reserved area of the refrigerator before she rushed back to the barn, hoping that she could make up for any thoughts that God might not approve of. She burst through the door, halfway expecting to see Mary and Isaac in an embrace, but they were standing at least ten feet away from each other. They both turned to Hannah.
“I was just telling Mary why I can’t go on our picnic.” Isaac smiled, and even though both Isaac and Mary insisted they were just friends, Hannah needed to clear her conscience.
“Nee, don’t cancel. That’s why I came back. I will stay with your mother while you go on your picnic. You don’t have to tell her. I’ll just show up for a visit, and that way you won’t have to worry about her.”
Hannah held her breath as Mary and Isaac exchanged looks.
But Isaac finally said, “Ya, okay.”
Somewhere in the back of Hannah’s mind, she’d hoped he wouldn’t accept her offer. But since he had, all she wanted now was a sense of peace about the entire situation.
She didn’t have it. How could she move forward when something so tragic had happened to Ethan? Her cousin was dating Isaac, friends or more than friends, she wasn’t sure, but still.
She walked to the house and as she came inside, she heard her mother vomiting again in the bathroom. Hannah hurried to her, putting her own worries aside.