THE NEXT MORNING HANNAH GREASED A LOAF PAN FOR the banana bread she was making. She hummed as she worked and reflected on the events of yesterday.
After the service she’d ridden with Jason over to the youth gathering. She’d had a good time with her friends, but she’d found she was less excited about being with Jason than she thought she’d be. She pondered the thought while scraping the batter into the pan.
Hannah slipped the banana bread into the oven and then remembered she hadn’t checked the answering machine yet. She hurried out to the barn and saw there were no messages. She walked back toward the house, thinking of Jason and examining her feelings for him. He was friendly, and she felt comfortable with him, but . . . there was just no spark. Jason was handsome and kind, but he didn’t cause her heart to race like a stallion.
Not like Stephen.
The thought caused Hannah to gasp. How could she allow herself to feel that way about Stephen, whom she had only met a few weeks earlier? And when her brother had warned her not to pursue him? Was she just imagining these feelings? But her cheeks heated whenever he stared at her, and when he touched her accidentally, her heart would lurch. More than anything, though, she was attracted to the kindness and care he showed her father. Stephen understood better than anyone what it was like when someone you loved had a stroke. Their connection was undeniable. And so were her feelings.
Hannah climbed the porch steps and remembered the Scripture story that had haunted her for the past few weeks—the widow at Zarephath. She couldn’t escape the feeling that God had sent Stephen to the Paradise Inn for a purpose. But what was that purpose? And what role did she play?
The questions swirled through her mind as she reached the screen door. She stopped when she heard muffled voices in the kitchen. She hadn’t heard anyone arrive.
Hannah found Stephen handing a map and brochures to an Englisch couple in the kitchen.
“Here is some information about the area. You’ll find a list of the more popular sights that most folks like to visit. It also lists a few Amish-owned businesses that are off the beaten path.”
“Oh, excuse me.” Hannah rushed over to the couple. “You must be Mr. and Mrs. Morton. I’m Hannah King. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived. I was out in the barn checking the messages.”
“It’s no problem at all,” the woman said. “I’m Lucy. Nice to meet you.”
“I wasn’t expecting you for a couple of hours.”
Lucy patted her husband’s arm. “This one wanted to leave early. Hannah, this is my husband, Rick.”
“It’s nice to meet you. Let’s get you checked in.” Hannah took their credit card information, had them sign the guest book, and then gave them their keys. “I’m certain you want to get settled. Head up to the second floor. Your room is the first on the left. I’ll be up in just a moment.”
“Thank you.” Lucy pulled her suitcase toward the stairs, and Hannah could hear her exclaiming to her husband about the house and the apple orchard.
Hannah smiled at them as they retreated up the stairs and then turned to Stephen. “Thanks for greeting them. I didn’t even hear their car.”
Stephen shrugged. “I was glad to help. I’ve heard your speech so many times I could recite it in my sleep.”
“I imagine you could.” Overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness, she touched his arm and felt electric pulses flow through her hand. “I truly appreciate your help here. I’ve realized I can’t efficiently run this place and care for my parents on my own.” She self-consciously withdrew her hand and rubbed it down the front of her apron.
His smile faded. “Gern gschehne, Hannah. I’m glad I’m here too.”
She looked into his deep blue eyes and wondered if he truly cared about the Paradise Inn. If so, did he also care for her? She wanted to ask the question, but she was afraid of his response. What if he said it was only a job to him? Hearing those words would crush her.
“I need to get outside to do a few things.” He pointed toward the stairs. “I think you need to get upstairs to show the Mortons their room. You go take care of our guests.”
“Oh! You’re right.”
Our guests. She thought about the word while she climbed the stairs.
Stephen took his time measuring and cutting the wood he’d purchased at the supply store earlier in the day. He swiped the back of his hand across his brow before he began to build the ramp that would connect the back door of Hannah’s parents’ house to the outside world. After witnessing the trouble Saul had exiting the house for church, Stephen had decided a ramp would be of great help to Saul. Once he completed the one for the daadi haus, he would build one for the Paradise Inn as well to encourage Saul to visit.
Stephen hummed as he drove nails into the plywood. The ramp soon began to take shape, and he smiled to himself. He hoped his crude design, which was similar to the one he’d built for his grandfather, would be sufficient.
He looked toward the inn and imagined Hannah telling the guests the history of the building. He was surprised by how appreciative she had been when he’d greeted the guests. It was a simple task, but she acted as if he’d saved the business. His heart warmed at the thought of helping her. Perhaps someday they might be more than friends, but he wouldn’t push the issue. He’d let her set the pace in whatever direction God led their relationship.
The back door opened with a bang, and Stephen found Saul studying him with furrowed eyebrows.
“Wie geht’s, Saul? How are you feeling today?”
Saul pointed toward the ramp. “What’s this?”
“It’s a ramp.” Stephen stood and wiped his brow again. He was sweating despite the crisp fall air. “I thought it might help you get out of the house more.” He gestured toward the inn. “Maybe you can come join me for lunch one afternoon, ya?”
Saul smiled. “Ya.”
Rachel appeared in the doorway. “What’s all the noise out here, Stephen?”
Stephen made a sweeping gesture toward his project.
“Why do we need a ramp?” Rachel raised an eyebrow. “He’s not going to use a wheelchair, if that’s what you’re implying. You get around just fine, right, Saul?”
“Ramp is gut.” Saul shuffled past her and into the house.
Stephen tried in vain to stop his grin. He admired how straightforward the older man was. It seemed the best tactic for handling Rachel.
Rachel scowled. “He doesn’t need a ramp.”
“He thinks he does. He said it was gut. I told him the ramp would help him get out of the house more.”
Rachel peered at him with suspicion brewing in her brown eyes. “Did Andrew tell you to build this?”
“No, he didn’t.”
“Was it Hannah, then?”
“No, it was all my idea. I’ve been thinking about it since my first Sunday here, when I saw how Saul struggled down the stairs before church.” Stephen leaned against the railing. “I thought it would be a nice way to help him be more mobile. I imagine he feels cooped up in the house. Mei daadi liked to get out after he had his strokes. Just being outside, feeling the breeze and seeing the flowers, made him froh.”
“He’s not cooped up.” Rachel paused, obviously thinking about something. “He likes to read.”
Stephen reached for the hammer. “I’m glad he likes to read, but I think he needs a ramp. His health may continue to fail. I did little projects like this for mei daadi, and he appreciated them. It helped his quality of life.”
“This really isn’t necessary, Stephen.”
He used the hammer as a pointer and gestured toward the ramp. “I’m going to finish my project now. I’ll build one for the inn when I’m done.”
Rachel stood for a moment watching him, and then she disappeared into the house.
Stephen’s eyes were wide as he looked toward the door after Rachel had gone. He’d hoped she would thank him, but he knew he was building the ramp for the right reasons. He had a feeling Hannah would approve, despite her mother’s reaction.
Later that afternoon Hannah was preparing to put a Dutch Country meat loaf into the oven when her mamm appeared in the kitchen. “Wie geht’s?”
Her mother pointed out the window over the sink. “Did you see what Stephen is doing at my haus?”
Hannah added water to the mixture in the pan. She then looked out the window and spotted Stephen painting a wooden structure that was attached to the back porch stairs. “Is that a ramp?”
“Ya. Did you know he was building a ramp for your daed?”
“No. How thoughtful.” She turned to her mamm. “When he came in for lunch, he said he was fixing the fence around the chicken coop, but I hadn’t looked out the window or paid much attention outside.” She stuck the meat loaf in the oven. “I’ve been worried that Daed is going to fall and hurt himself. The ramp is a fantastic idea.”
“He didn’t ask me first.”
“His heart is in the right place.” Hannah touched her mamm’s sleeve. “Stephen has really been a help to our family. I’m so glad Andrew hired him.”
Her mother frowned. “Do you have feelings for him, Hannah Mary?”
“He’s mei freind.”
“Remember what I said about how things can be perceived. You’re living under the same roof, and you’re unmarried. If the bishop disapproves . . .”
“Mamm, please.” Hannah grimaced. “We’re freinden.”
“I’m warning you, dochder. Maybe he’ll be able to save some money and move out on his own soon.” Her mamm lifted her arms in a dramatic gesture and started for the door. “I’ll see you later.”
Hannah shook her head as her mamm disappeared out the back door. How could she think anything inappropriate would happen between her and Stephen? They knew what was considered appropriate behavior.
Hannah peered out the window to watch Stephen paint the ramp. What a wonderful and thoughtful man. He seemed to be an answer to her prayers—her helpmate who would care for her parents and the bed-and-breakfast she loved so much. Hannah needed to do something nice for him as a way to say thank you.
She looked toward the pantry as an idea nipped at her. She rummaged through the shelves and made a shopping list. She would make him something special and surprise him.
