Free A Widow's Hope by Mary Ellis Page B

hands of their farm.
    “No, I’ll drive around the barn and get Matthew and Henry to unload. You go up to the house and take Phoebe with you. Julia can use you two more than I can.” He ruffled his daughter’s hair as she tried to hide behind his leg. Part of a candy worm hung from the side of her mouth.
    “Come, Phoebe. Let’s see if Leah knows the proper way to eat a blue worm.” Hannah held out her hand and held her breath.
    The child didn’t take her hand, but she did break into a fast dash for the back door. Hannah started to follow her and then turned back. Seth was still watching her.
    “ Danki, Seth, for taking me to buy the sheep feed.”
    He tipped up his hat to meet her gaze. “ Gern gschehne, you’re welcome. I was glad for the company.”
    Hannah felt a flush of warmth up her neck and face and didn’t like it one bit. She didn’t need to react like a silly schoolgirl after a simple shopping trip. She hurried after Phoebe with an almost identical pace.
    Inside Julia’s tidy kitchen, Hannah launched into her share of the tasks with zeal. Scrubbing, peeling, and cubing potatoes allowed her to focus energy on something less confusing than Seth Miller. Once she set the pot of potatoes to boil, she sat at the scarred oak table and found her sister watching her. “What can I help you with next?” she asked.
    Julia’s dimples deepened in her cheeks. “If that had been a race, you surely would have won, sister.” Julia was basting two chickens with pan drippings while Emma tore lettuce and sliced vegetables for a salad, humming softly as she worked. “You may set the table if you like,” Julia said. “How did you like the ride to Mount Eaton? What did you and my brother-in-law find to talk about along the way?”
    Luckily Julia hadn’t noticed Hannah’s flushed face or trembling fingers until the strange attack of nerves had passed.
    “We mainly discussed the difference between Lancaster farms and those here in Ohio,” Hannah said, setting the stack of platesand silverware on the table. “And Seth talked a lot about Constance. She must have been a wonderful wife and mother.”
    “ Ach, no one could bake like Constance. Her cinnamon-raisin cakes and lemon bars were the best in the district.” Julia licked her lips as though she could still taste them.
    “Yours are just as good, mamm, ” Emma insisted. “At least they were till your fingers got so stiff. And with my help, yours will be just as good again.”
    Emma’s loyalty to her mamm warmed Hannah’s heart. “I can’t wait until the next baking day,” she said. She glanced around to make sure no other kinner were close by and then whispered, “Does Phoebe ever speak? I mean when she’s with people she knows well?”
    Emma looked up from the cucumber she was peeling. Julia cocked her head as they heard giggling from the girls on the steps. She waited until Leah and Phoebe ran outdoors, letting the screen door slam behind them. “ Jah, she speaks,” Julia said. “At least she used to when Constance was alive. She learned to talk early and hardly ever stopped to take a breath. But when she lost her mamm, she stopped.” Julia slipped the roasting pan back into the oven for a final browning.
    Hannah checked that the girls were still headed toward the swing as she took glasses from the cupboard above the sink. Then she couldn’t stop herself from asking, “Isn’t Seth worried? Hasn’t he taken the child to see a doctor about this?”
    Julia slanted a look at her daughter. “Emma, why don’t you get a quart of green beans from the cellar?”
    “ Mutter, I’m fourteen years old—not a baby anymore.”
    Julia didn’t say a word. The arch of her eyebrow proved sufficient.
    Emma set down the paring knife and headed for the basement steps. “Okay, I’m going.”
    Julia waited a minute before continuing. “The doctor in Walnut Creek said there’s nothing to worry about—that she’ll start talkingagain when she’s ready.”