A Widow's Hope

Hannah’s head was spinning. Surely it was a good and gracious thing that someone had commissioned a playhouse for Matthew, but would it be safe for him to play in one? What if he fell out of his chair? What if he rolled out of the playhouse?

How could her father agree to such a thing?

And why was it being built by Jacob Schrock? She hadn’t thought about him in years, certainly hadn’t expected to see him again. Why today of all days, when her heart was sore from dreaming of David? Why this morning?

“Can I help?” Matthew asked.

“Oh, no.” Hannah abandoned her future worries and focused on the problems at hand. “You’ll leave that to Jacob.”

“But, Mamm...”

“We can’t risk your getting hurt.”

“I’ll be super careful...”

“And you’d only be in Jacob’s way.”

Matthew stabbed another piece of biscuit and swirled it into the syrup, but he didn’t plop it in his mouth. Instead he stared at the food, worried his bottom lip and hunched up his shoulders. Her son’s bullheadedness had been quite useful during his initial recovery. When the doctors had said he probably couldn’t do a thing, Matthew had buckled down, concentrated and found a way. There were days, though, when she wondered why Gotte had given her such a strong-willed child.

Jacob had drunk half his coffee and accepted a plate of eggs and bacon, which he’d consumed rather quickly. Now he sat rubbing his hand up and down his jaw, his clean-shaven jaw. The right side—the unscarred side. Was the injury the reason he’d never married? Was he embarrassed about the scar? Did women avoid him? Not that it was her business, and she’d certainly never ask.

“I just wanted to help,” Matthew muttered.

“Now that you mention it, I could use an apprentice.”

“I could be a ’rentice.” Matthew nodded his head so hard his hair flopped forward into his eyes, reminding Hannah that she would need to cut it again soon.

“It’s hard work,” Jacob cautioned.

“I can work hard.”

“You sure?”

“Tell him, Mamm. Tell him how hard I work at the center.”

“You’d have to hand me nails, tools, that sort of thing.”

“I can do that!” Matthew was rocking in his chair now, and Hannah was wise enough to know the battle was lost.

“Only if your mamm agrees, of course.”

She skewered him with a look. Certainly he knew that he’d backed her into an impossible corner. Instead of arguing, she smiled sweetly and said, “If your daddi thinks it’s okay.”

Hannah’s father readily agreed and then Jacob was pulling out sheets of drawings that showed a playhouse in the shape of a train, with extra-wide doors—doors wide enough for Matthew’s chair, room to pivot the chair, room to play. How could she not want such a thing for her child? The penciled playhouse looked like the stuff of fairy tales.

When she glanced up at Jacob, he smiled and said in a low voice, “We’ll be extra careful.”

“I should hope so.”

And then she stood and began to clear off the dishes. The last thing she needed to do was stand around staring into Jacob Schrock’s deep blue eyes. A better use of her time would be to go to town and pick up the Monday paper so she could study the Help Wanted ads. It looked like that wasn’t going to happen. There was no way she was leaving Matthew outside, working as an apprentice to a man who had no children of his own. She’d come home to find he’d nailed his thumb to a piece of wood, or cut himself sawing a piece of lumber, or fallen and cracked something open. Secondary infections were no laughing matter for a child who was a paraplegic.

She’d be spending the morning watching Matthew watch Jacob. As soon as he left for the day, she’d head to town because one way or another, she needed to find a job.

Chapter Two (#u11cbee26-a654-5945-b19d-a38c9d8cd17e)

Hannah pushed aside her unsettled feelings and worked her way through the morning. She managed to complete the washing and hang it up on the line, and she helped her mother to put lunch on the table, all the while keeping a close eye on what was happening in the backyard.

When it was time for lunch, Matthew came in proclaiming he was an “official ’rentice now,” and Jacob followed behind him with a sheepish look on his face.

Her father joined them for the noon meal. Earlier, he had stayed around long enough to confirm where the playhouse would be built and then he’d headed off to the fields. It worried her sometimes, her father being fifty-two and still working behind a team of horses, but her mother only scoffed at that. “What is he supposed to do? Sit in a rocking chair? Your father is as healthy as the bull in the north pasture, and if it’s Gotte’s wille, he’ll stay that way for many more years.”

The meal had passed pleasantly enough, though Hannah didn’t like how enamored Matthew was with Jacob Schrock. They laughed and described their morning’s work and talked of trains as if they’d been on one.

“There’s a place in town called Tender Jim’s.” Jacob reached for another helping of potato salad. “Have you heard of it, Matthew?”

Matthew stuffed a potato chip into his mouth and shook his head.

“Down on Danbury Drive. Isn’t it?” Her father sat back, holding his glass of tea with one hand and pulling on his beard with the other. “Nice Englisch fellow.”

“And what were you doing in Tender Jim’s?” Claire asked.

“Curious, mostly. I’d taken Dolly to the farrier and had to wait a bit longer than I thought I would. Wandered down and talked to the fellow.”

“Did he have trains?” Matthew asked.

“Oh, ya. Certainly, he did. Small ones and large ones.”

“As large as my playhouse?”

“Nein. They were toys.”

“Perhaps we could go by and see them sometime,” Jacob said.

Hannah jumped up as if she’d been stung by a bee. “Matthew has a full week planned with his physical therapy appointments and all, but danki for the offer.”

This was exactly why she didn’t want a man like Jacob around—or any man for that matter. They’d raise her son’s hopes, promise him things they wouldn’t deliver and then disappear one day when they realized that Matthew was never going to walk, never going to be normal.

She pretended to be occupied with putting things up in the refrigerator as Jacob, her father and Matthew went out to look at the “job site.” Her job was to protect Matthew—from strangers who would pretend to be friends, and from upheaval in his life. Which reminded her that she still hadn’t been to town to purchase a newspaper.

She needed to stop worrying, which was easier said than done. Jacob would be finished with the playhouse in a day or two and then Matthew wouldn’t see him anymore. Didn’t Jacob mention that he was part of a different church district? She hadn’t been home long enough to sort the districts out, but she did know there were a lot of Amish in the area. It would explain why she hadn’t seen him at church.

Hannah and her mother cleared away the lunch dishes and put together a casserole for dinner and then her mother sat at the table. Hannah continued to peer out the window. What were they doing out there? How could Matthew possibly be helping? Why would Jacob want him to?

“Come sit down a minute, Hannah.”

“But—”

“Come on, now. You’ve been on your feet all morning.”