Amish Family Ties

Hannah Lambright becomes an instant mother when her estranged father abandons his toddler daughter on her doorstep. The pretty beekeeper knows all about honey—and nothing about tending to a kinder, especially one with special needs. She’s grateful to Daniel Stoltzfus for offering to help care for her sister in exchange for Hannah’s beekeeping skills on a hive at his workplace. But the handsome carpenter broke her heart years ago and she’s afraid it’s never quite mended. Yet spending time with the boppli whisperer and the sweet little girl has love-shy Hannah hoping the family they’re forming will last forever.

“How am I going to take care of Shelby when she hates me?” Hannah murmured.

Daniel smiled. “She doesn’t hate you. She’s scared, and she’s known me longer.”

“Two minutes longer because you’re the one who found her on my doorstep!” Hannah said. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Just as it doesn’t make sense she doesn’t like you. Who knows what goes on in the heads of bopplin?” He shampooed little Shelby’s hair, taking care not to get suds in her eyes. “I’ll make you a deal, Hannah.” He began to rinse Shelby’s fine hair. “You help me by moving the bees at the bridge, and I’ll help you learn how to take care of Shelby. In addition, I’ll do all I can to find your daed.”

Hannah nodded, but didn’t speak.

Knowing he shouldn’t push her further, he lifted the kind out and wrapped her in a towel before her wiggling sent water all over the bathroom. He watched Hannah’s face, knowing she wished he’d walked away as he had before.

But she needed his help. And he needed hers.

Dear Reader,

It’s easy to get caught up in obligations and forget that there are others who are willing to help us. For those with a volunteer’s heart, the ones who always are there to help, it’s sometimes difficult to accept assistance from others. Learning that it’s important to let others relish the joy of helping you can be a hard lesson. I know it was for Hannah...and for me. But once I discovered that givers must learn to receive as well, I found my friendships were deepened and I got more satisfaction from helping because I came to understand what it meant to be helped. Both Hannah and Daniel do as well, and their lives are enriched with love.

Stop in and visit me at www.joannbrownbooks.com. Look for my next story in the Amish Hearts series coming soon.

Wishing you many blessings,

Jo Ann Brown

JO ANN BROWN has always loved stories with happy-ever-after endings. A former military officer, she is thrilled to have the chance to write stories about people falling in love. She is also a photographer, and she travels with her husband of more than thirty years to places where she can snap pictures. They live in Nevada with three children and a spoiled cat. Drop her a note at joannbrownbooks.com.

An Amish Reunion

Jo Ann Brown

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Then said He unto me, “Fear not, Daniel:

for from the first day that thou didst set

thine heart to understand, and to chasten thyself

before thy God, thy words were heard,

and I am come for thy words.”

—Daniel 10:12

For Janet Jones Bann

Thanks for all you do for all of us,

especially being my friend

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Paradise Springs

Lancaster County, Pennsylvania

The knock came at the worst possible moment.

Hannah Lambright had her grossmammi partway to her bed where she could look out, through the cold rain, at the covered bridge over Hunter’s Mill Creek until she fell asleep for her afternoon nap. Grossmammi Ella depended on Hannah to help her. She refused to use a cane, not wanting to be considered old, though she’d recently celebrated her 90th birthday.

Smoothing the blanket over her grossmammi, who’d already closed her eyes, Hannah hurried from the room. She wiped her hands on her black apron and pushed loose strands of hair under her white kapp. The impatient rapping continued. She opened the door. Words fled from her mouth and her brain as she stared at a handsome face she’d never expected to see at her door. She couldn’t be mistaken about the identity of the man with sleek black hair beneath his dripping straw hat and deep blue eyes set below assertive brows. Her momentary hope that she was looking at his twin brother vanished when she noticed the cleft in his chin.

“Daniel Stoltzfus, why are you here?” she asked.

“Is she yours?”

Only then did she realize Daniel held a wicker container about the size of a laundry basket. A little girl, her golden hair in uneven braids sticking out like a bug’s antennae, was curled, half-asleep in the basket. Chocolate crumbs freckled her cheeks. The kind wore an Englisch-style pink overall and a shirt with puffy sleeves. She couldn’t have been more than eighteen months old.

“Mine?” she choked.

The little girl’s dark brown eyes opened. Her chubby, adorable face displayed the unmistakable characteristics of Down syndrome.

“I was on my way to the covered bridge when I saw her in your side yard,” he replied. “By the time my buggy stopped and I could get out, she’d disappeared behind the house.”

“My honeybees are out there! Did she get stung?”

“I don’t think so. Is this kind yours?”

She recoiled from the strong emotions darkening his blue eyes. Behind his question, she heard unspoken accusations. An answer of ja would mean not only was she an unmarried woman with a kind, but she let the toddler wander near her beehives.

After the five months she and Daniel had walked out together three years ago, did he know so little about her? Didn’t he know she was the dependable one? As she’d been since her mamm died when she was ten years old. When she dared to trust someone again, she’d chosen Daniel Stoltzfus, who’d broken her heart.

“I don’t know who she is,” Hannah said, determined to keep her thoughts to herself. “Just because she was in my yard—”

“And this basket was on your porch. She must have crawled out of it.”

“Why would someone leave her on my front porch?”

“I’ve got no idea.” He glanced over his shoulder. “It’s raining. Can we come in?”

Hannah could think of a dozen reasons to say no, but nodded. She couldn’t leave a young kind out in the cold and damp...nor Daniel.

He set the basket on the well-worn sofa and squatted beside it. When the little girl sat and began to whimper, he said, “It’s okay, liebling. You’re safe.”

She didn’t know if the little girl knew the word meant sweetheart, but the kind began to calm as she gazed at him, trying to figure out who he was.

Hannah bit back a sad laugh. After months with him, she’d been shocked when he turned out not to be the man she’d thought he was. She shook those thoughts aside. The kind should be her sole concern.

The little girl moved, and Hannah heard a crackle. A crumpled and wet envelope was stuck in the basket. Hannah took it and removed a single piece of wet paper. How long had the basket and the toddler been in the rain? She peeled the damp edges apart and was relieved the writing hadn’t been smudged.

“What does it say?” Daniel asked.

She read aloud, “Shelby is your sister. Take care of her.” Looking at the kind, she asked, “Are you Shelby?”

The little girl blinked.

“I guess Shelby is her name.” He began to make faces at the little girl. “Does it say anything else?”

Hannah gasped when she saw the signature.

Daed.

In the fifteen years since he’d left after her mamm’s death, her daed hadn’t written her a single letter. At first, she’d thought it was because he’d been placed under the bann when he abandoned his faith along with his only kind. Later, he’d sent postcards from the places around the United States and Canada. Nevada and Florida. California and Mississippi. Manitoba and Texas. Never anywhere near Paradise Springs. And never with any message other than Daed.

Until now.

What was going on?

“Is it signed?” Daniel asked.

She nodded, unable to speak. Had her daed been right outside the door? Why hadn’t he knocked? Did he think she’d turn him away? She sighed as she realized he might have been afraid she wouldn’t take the basket from him. The rules of the bann were clear—she could speak with him, though her words should be focused on persuading him to confess his sins and return to their plain life. She couldn’t eat at the same table or take a piece of paper from his hand. The whole community hoped a shunning would convince an offender to repent; then family and friends would welcome him into the fold as if the bann had never happened. As God forgave, so should those who loved Him.

“Who signed it, Hannah?” Daniel’s voice was as gentle as when he’d spoken to the little girl.

She gulped, trying to swallow past the lump in her throat. How could Daed have left without seeing her again? Feeling as hurt as the day she’d discovered he’d jumped the fence into the Englisch world, she whispered, “My daed.”

Daniel’s eyes widened. He was as stunned as she was. More than once, while they’d been courting, she’d talked about her hope to see her daed again.

Under a stained blanket, she saw a lump. She lifted out two plastic bags. The handles were tied together. She hooked her finger in the top of one and pulled. The bag tore, and tiny clothing, most in shades of pink, scattered across the floor.

“Her clothes, I’d guess,” Daniel said as he picked up the little girl. He bounced the kind and tried to keep her from pulling off his straw hat at the same time.

The sight was so endearing Hannah smiled in spite of herself. When a chuckle escaped, he looked at her in astonishment.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” That was the most honest answer she had. One minute, she’d been going about her daily routine. The next, the man she’d once believed wanted to marry her was standing on her porch with a boppli in a basket. “I don’t know what to do or say.”

“You could start by holding your sister.”

Sister! She’d never had a sister...or a brother. Her extended family lived in northern New York, too far away except for an occasional visit when one of her cousins married. It’d been her and Grossmammi Ella since her daed left. She’d dreamed of having a sibling. As a kind, she’d prayed night after night for one. Had God answered her prayer like this?

She held out her arms, and Daniel shifted the kind so Hannah could take her.

With a cry, Shelby clung to him. She buried her face in his shoulder, rubbing chocolate into his coat, and wrapped her tiny arms around his neck. Her sobs trembled along her.

“Give her a minute,” Daniel said before murmuring in Englisch, “Shelby, look at Hannah. She likes little girls.”

She shrieked as if caught in a swarm of bees.

Hannah yanked her hands away. Her little sister, the blessed gift she’d yearned for, wanted nothing to do with her. And Shelby cuddled against the man who’d wanted nothing to do with her either.

* * *

Daniel watched the flurry of emotions sweep across Hannah’s face. Frustration. Uncertainty. Regret. Pain. He’d seen the last when she’d found him flirting with other girls. The memory of that evening had lurked in his thoughts for three years, a constant reminder that if he let someone else come as close to his heart as she had, he could wound that person as badly. Better to keep things light and laugh with every girl instead of making a marvelous one like Hannah cry. He wasn’t going to take a chance of that happening again. He’d learned his lesson the hardest possible way.

He wouldn’t have come to the stone-end farmhouse where she lived with her great-grandmother and her bees if he’d had another choice. But he needed to ask for a favor. A big one, and he wasn’t sure if Hannah would agree when they hadn’t spoken in three years.

He should look away from her pretty face, but he couldn’t. How was it possible that Hannah had become even more beautiful? He hadn’t seen her since that evening she’d walked out of his life. His older brother Amos had occasionally mentioned Hannah bringing honey from her hives to sell at his grocery store. Each time, Daniel had changed the subject. He didn’t want to think about how he’d ruined everything between him and Hannah.

In the rainy day’s dim light, her hair was the shade of her honey. Drawn under a green bandana that matched her dress, her hair framed her oval face. Her chocolate-brown eyes displayed her feelings. She’d never been able to hide her thoughts. Now she was upset because the kind refused to go to her.

“It’s okay, Shelby,” he said in Englisch because he suspected she didn’t understand Deitsch, the language the Amish spoke. “You don’t have to go anywhere you don’t want to.”

The kind tilted her head; then she gave him a big grin, showing off tiny teeth. Her eyes crinkled closed, and he saw the striking resemblance between the little girl and Hannah. The shape of their faces, those dark eyes and the shiny, honey-gold hair were almost identical.

“Is your great-grandmother here?” he asked.

“She’s taking a nap.” Hannah continued to stare at Shelby with distress.

“With all this noise?”

“Grossmammi Ella takes a nap every day from one until two-thirty. Even if she’s awake, she won’t come out until two-thirty.” Her lips quirked. “No matter what.”

“That’s weird.”

“It’s her way.”

His nose wrinkled. “Someone could use a diaper change.” He ran a finger along the kind’s tiny arm. “And she’s cold. What she needs is a gut, warm bath.”

“She won’t let me give her one.” Again the dismay filled her voice.

“I’ll help.” He hesitated, then said, “If you’ll let me.”

She glanced toward the front door. As clearly as if she’d shouted, he knew she wanted him to leave.

“This isn’t about what happened to us, Hannah. It’s about what’s happened to your little sister.”

Her face blanched, but she squared her shoulders. He recognized the motion. Whenever Hannah set her shoulders, she was ready to take on a disagreeable task. He’d prefer not to think she saw him as that.

“The bathroom is this way.” She gathered the scattered clothes and bags before leading him into the simple kitchen. She opened the door next to the woodstove and motioned for him to enter.

He couldn’t ignore how Shelby tightened her arms around him when he passed Hannah. He wanted to tell the kind she was making a big mistake. Hannah would do anything for anyone. Everybody knew they could depend on her.

He, on the other hand... He frowned. Trying to explain to Hannah why he’d done what he did would be a waste of breath. He’d failed her three years ago, and he doubted he’d do better now. He couldn’t find the words to tell her how important it was for him to own a business as his older brothers did. He couldn’t admit how scared and worried he’d been to try to handle the challenges of that along with a wife and family. He’d wanted to be honest, but how could he tell the most dependable person he knew he wasn’t sure she could depend on him? And then he’d proved that by flirting with someone else. He couldn’t remember which girl it’d been.

Pushing aside self-recriminations, he carried Shelby into the bathroom as Hannah put the clothes on a counter by the sink. It was a small room. The big bathtub must have been installed for Hannah’s grossmammi. The tub had a door in the side and held a chair where someone could sit while bathing. Hannah made sure the door was locked and lifted out the chair. She shoved it as far toward the window as she could. After turning on the faucet and testing the water to make sure it was neither too hot nor too cold, she faced him.

“Will she let me take her?” she asked.

“Let me get her started, and we’ll see how she does. Can you get a towel and washcloth while I put her into the tub?”

“Ja. They’re right behind you. I’ll get—”

He put out an arm to halt her from reaching past him. When her hand touched his arm, she flinched as if he were connected to an electric circuit and she’d gotten zapped.

Pulling down a towel, she shoved it into his hand. “Why are you here?”

He set the little girl on the floor and knelt to unhook the straps on her overalls. That gave him an excuse not to look at Hannah while he asked for her help. Shelby wiggled as he drew off her wet clothes. Once she was undressed and her braids undone, he rinsed off her bottom before placing her in the tub. She slapped the water and giggled when it flew everywhere, including the front of his shirt.

Taking a washcloth and soap from Hannah, he began washing the kind’s face and arms. He kept one hand on Shelby’s shoulder as he said, “I’ve been hired to strengthen the Hunter’s Mill Creek Bridge so it can be used for heavier traffic again, and I need your help.”

“I’m not much gut with a hammer.”

Was she jesting? He didn’t dare take his eyes off the little girl to see. Deciding it’d be better not to respond to her comment, he said, “I can’t begin work until something is done about the beehive in a rotting board beneath the bridge.”

“Bees? What kind?” Excitement sifted into her voice.

“I think they’re honeybees.”

“You’re not sure?”

He risked a quick glance at Hannah who sat on the chair she’d taken from the tub. She watched how he cleaned the toddler. “You’re the expert. Not me. I can’t tell one kind of bee from another. They need to be moved so nobody gets stung while we’re working on the bridge. I considered spraying them, but I’ve heard there aren’t as many honeybees as there used to be.”

“Ja, that’s true. Pesticides and pests have killed them.”

“That’s why I decided to check with an expert—with you—before I contacted an exterminator.” He cupped his hand and poured warm water over Shelby’s head, wetting it so he could wash her hair. He kept his other hand above her eyes to prevent water from flowing into them.

“Danki for checking, Daniel. Many people don’t. They spray the hive, never stopping to think we need honeybees to pollinate our crops.” She held out a bottle of shampoo. “You’re gut with her.”

“Practice. My sister Esther was a lot younger than the rest of us, and I used to help Mamm. And I’ve got a bunch of nieces and nephews.” He edged back. “Do you want to put the shampoo on her hair?”

“Do you think she’ll let me?”

“One way to know.” Keeping his right hand on Shelby’s arm, he stepped aside.

Hannah eased past him, making sure not an inch of her brushed against him, not even the hem of her apron or kapp strings. She bent over the tub and smiled. “Let’s get your pretty hair clean, Shelby.”

The kind’s lower lip trembled, and thick tears rolled down her cheeks.

Her face falling, Hannah edged away. She wrapped her arms around herself as Shelby returned to her playing when Daniel stood by the tub again.

“How am I going to take care of her when she hates me?” Hannah murmured.

“She doesn’t hate you. She’s scared, and she’s known me longer.”

“Two minutes! That doesn’t make sense.”

“Just as it doesn’t make sense she doesn’t like you. Who knows what goes on in the heads of bopplin?” He shampooed Shelby’s hair, taking care not to get suds in her eyes. He’d stop at his brother’s grocery store and get some shampoo made for boppli before he returned to work on the bridge tomorrow.

At that thought, he said, “I’ll make you a deal, Hannah.” He began to rinse Shelby’s fine hair. “You help me by moving the bees, and I’ll help you learn how to take care of Shelby. In addition, I’ll do all I can to find your daed.”

“How will you find Daed?”

“I can ask the police—”

She shook her head. “It’s not our way to involve Englischers in our business.”

“It may need to be if you want to know the truth about your daed.”

“I don’t know.” She dragged the reluctant words out.

“If the bishop says it’s okay, will you?” He hated backing her into a corner, but she must see that they needed help in the extraordinary situation.

Hannah nodded, but didn’t speak.

Knowing he shouldn’t push her further, he lifted the kind out and wrapped her in a towel before her wiggling sent water all over the bathroom. He watched Hannah’s face, knowing she wished he’d walked away as he had before. But she needed his help. And he needed hers. None of the men he’d hired would get close to the bridge supports while the bees were there.

Putting Shelby on the floor, he grabbed for the unopened bag. He couldn’t reach it.

“What do you need?” Hannah asked.

Your agreement to move the bees, he wanted to say, but didn’t. She was upset, and he didn’t want to make her feel worse. “A diaper.”

She opened the bag and frowned. “Um...”

“Let me look.” He took the bag, and with a smile, he pulled out a disposable diaper. He diapered the toddler and pulled a warm shirt and trousers from the counter to dress her.

Hannah handed him a pair of socks. “I’m sorry. I’ve only seen cloth diapers before.”

“It’s okay.” He hesitated, then said, “If you want, I can take her to our house. My mamm will watch her.”

“No!”

“Are you sure?”

“Ja. My daed could come back. She needs to be here when he does.”

Daniel didn’t argue, though he had his doubts any man who abandoned two daughters would return. “Did you see how I put the diaper on her?”

“Ja. It’s easy.”

“It is. As you’re going to need my help with her, what do you say? Do we have a deal? I’ll help you with Shelby as well as try to find your daed, and you’ll move the bees for me. Do we have a deal?”

“All right, Daniel,” she said as if agreeing to a truce with her worst enemy. He flinched, hoping she didn’t consider him that. He knew he’d have time to find out when she went on, “It’s a deal.”

Chapter Two

As soon as the words agreeing to the plan with Daniel left her lips, Hannah wanted to take them back. But how could she turn aside his help? Looking at the little girl perched on Daniel’s knee while he sat on the edge of the tub, Hannah knew she needed his assistance. Her great-grandmother might want to help, but the elderly woman was fragile. Grossmammi Ella couldn’t chase an active toddler. Though nothing had ever been said, Hannah often wondered if her grossmammi resented having a ten-year-old dumped on her to raise.

“Gut,” Daniel said as he shifted Shelby into his arms as he stood.

He avoided Hannah’s eyes, and she couldn’t meet his either. Suddenly the bathroom seemed as small as a phone shack.

It seemed to shrink farther when he went on, “I’m glad you’re willing to be sensible about this, Hannah. After all, what happened in the past is best left there.”

“I agree.” That wasn’t exactly the truth, but she wanted to put an end to this strained conversation. She couldn’t imagine how their “deal” would work. Daniel might be able to leave the past in the past, but she wasn’t sure she could. A heated aura of humiliation surrounded her whenever she thought of how he’d dumped her without an explanation.

Shelby chirped and tugged at his hair, interrupting Hannah’s bleak thoughts. A kind depended on her. For that reason—and to protect a hive of what she hoped were healthy honeybees—she would work with Daniel. She wouldn’t trust him. She’d learned her lesson.

Hearing a soft chime from the timer on the kitchen stove, Hannah gathered the wet towel and washcloth. She tossed them in the tub and ignored Daniel’s surprise when she left them there.

“Do you have something in the oven?” he asked.

“No. My great-grandmother sets the timer every afternoon before going to rest in her room. About fifteen minutes after it chimes, she’ll come out. I try to have a cup of tea ready for her.

“I should get going then.”

“But the bees—”

He pointed toward the window where water ran down the glass. “Let’s put that off until the rain stops. We can go tomorrow morning.”

“That makes sense.” At least one thing had today. Everything else, from Daniel’s appearance at her door to the idea her daed might have been there moments before, had been bizarre and painful. Why hadn’t Daed knocked on the door?

A fresh wave of grief struck her as hard as the rain battered the window. Had Daed thought she wouldn’t want to see him? Or did he think Grossmammi Ella would refuse to let him in? Hannah would have talked with him on the porch. She wouldn’t have been able to hug him while he was under the bann, but she would have welcomed him home and asked him why he’d left her behind. Why hadn’t he come home? And, when he did, why did he leave Shelby without letting Hannah know he was there?

“If you need anything before I come back,” Daniel said, “let me know.”

She frowned. “How? I can’t leave a toddler and my great-grandmother here alone.”

“My brother has a phone in the barn. I’ll give you the number.”

“Danki.” She regretted snapping at him. She couldn’t let dismay with her daed color her conversations with others. Maybe Daniel was right. Leaving the past in the past was a gut idea. “Our Englisch neighbors let me use their phone when it’s necessary. We should be okay. There are plenty of diapers and clothing in the bag for tonight.”

“Gut.” He left the bathroom.

Suddenly there seemed to be enough oxygen to take a breath, and Hannah sucked in a quick one. She needed to get herself on an even keel if Daniel was visiting for the next few days. How long would it take to learn how to take care of Shelby? Not that long, she was sure.

Her certainty wavered when Daniel paused in the living room and held out Shelby to her. Smiling and cooing at the kind, Hannah took her.

The room erupted into chaos when the toddler shrieked at the top of her lungs and reached out toward him, her body stiff with the indignity of being handed off to Hannah.

“Go!” Hannah ordered.

“Are you sure?” Daniel asked.

“Ja.” Stretching out his leaving would just upset everyone more.

Shelby’s crying became heartbreaking as Daniel slipped out and closed the door behind him. She squirmed so hard, Hannah put her down.

Teetering as if the floor rocked beneath her, Shelby rushed to the door. She stretched her hand toward the knob, but couldn’t reach it. Leaning her face against the door, she sobbed.

Hannah was tempted to join her in tears. The sight of the distraught kind shattered her heart. When she took a step forward, wanting to comfort Shelby, the toddler’s crying rose in pitch like a fire siren. Hannah jumped back, unsure what to do. She silenced the longing to call after Daniel and ask him to calm the kind. As soon as he left once more, Shelby might react like this all over again.

Hating to leave the little girl by the door, Hannah edged toward the kitchen. She kept her eyes on Shelby while setting the kettle on the stove to heat. The kind didn’t move an inch while Hannah took out the tea and a cup for her great-grandmother. Nor when Hannah set a handful of cookies on a plate and poured a small amount of milk into a glass.

The first thing to put on her list of what she’d need for the kind: plastic cups. Maybe she could find some with tops so Shelby could drink without spilling. Or was Hannah getting ahead of herself? She didn’t know if the little girl could drink from a cup.

The door to the downstairs bedroom opened. Her great-grandmother, Ella Lambright, leaned one hand on the door frame. She’d left her cane in the bedroom. Her steps were as unsteady as Shelby’s. Unlike the kind, her face was lined from many summers of working in her garden. She wore a black dress, stockings and shoes as she had every day since her husband died two years before Hannah’s parents had wed.

Hannah rushed to assist her great-grandmother to the kitchen table. The old woman took a single step, then paused as another wail came from beside the front door.

“Who is that?” Grossmammi Ella said in her wispy voice. The strings on her kapp struck Hannah’s cheek as she turned her head to look at the sobbing toddler. The elderly woman’s white hair was as thin and crisp as the organdy of her kapp. She actually was Hannah’s daed’s grossmammi.

“Her name is Shelby.”

“That isn’t a plain name.” Her snowy brows dropped into a scowl. “And she isn’t wearing plain clothes. What is an Englisch kind doing here?”

“Sit, and I’ll explain.”

“Who was that I saw driving away? What did he want here?”

“One thing at a time.” Hannah had grown accustomed to Grossmammi Ella’s impatience. In many ways, her great-grandmother’s mind had regressed to the level of a toddler’s. Impatient, jumping from one subject to another and with no apparent connection of one thought to the next, focused on her own needs. “That’s what a wise woman told me.”

“Foolish woman, if you ask me,” Grossmammi Ella muttered.

Hannah assisted her great-grandmother to sit. Now wasn’t the time to mention the wise woman had been Grossmammi Ella. Saying that might start an argument because the old woman could be quarrelsome when she felt frustrated, which was often lately.

Hoping she wouldn’t make matters worse, Hannah went to Shelby. She knelt, but didn’t reach out to the toddler. “Shelby?” she whispered.

The little girl turned toward her, her earth-brown eyes like Hannah’s. Heated trails of tears curved along her full cheeks, and her nose was as red as the skin around her eyes. Averting her face, the kind began to suck her thumb while she clung to the door.

Hannah waited, not saying anything. When Shelby’s eyes grew heavy, the toddler slid to sit and lean her face against the door. The poor little girl was exhausted. Hannah wondered when the kind had last slept.

When Shelby’s breathing grew slow, Hannah slipped her arms around the toddler. Shelby stiffened, but didn’t waken as Hannah placed her on the sofa. Getting a small quilt, Hannah draped it over the little girl.

Straightening, Hannah went to sit beside her great-grandmother. Patting Grossmammi Ella’s fragile arm, she began to explain what had happened while the old woman was resting. The story sounded unbelievable, but its proof slept on the sofa.

When her great-grandmother asked what Hannah intended to do now, Hannah said, “I don’t know.”

And she didn’t. She hoped God would send her ideas of how to deal with the arrival of an unknown sister, because she had none.

* * *

Reuben Lapp’s place wasn’t on Daniel’s way home to the farm where he’d lived his whole life, but he turned his buggy left where he usually turned right and followed the road toward where the sun was setting through the bank of clouds clinging to the hills. It was growing chilly, a reminder winter hadn’t left. At least, the rain hadn’t turned to sleet or snow.

He’d promised Hannah that he’d help her find out where her daed was. Hannah had been willing—albeit reluctantly—for him to speak with Reuben and get the bishop’s advice.

Why didn’t she want to use every method possible to find her daed? Daniel was sure she was as curious as he was about why Shelby had been left on the porch. Yet, she’d hesitated when he mentioned locating her daed.

Why?

You could have asked her. His conscience refused to let him ignore the obvious, but he had to admit that Hannah had her hands full when he left. As he closed the Lambrights’ door, he’d heard Shelby begin to cry in earnest. He’d almost gone back in, stopping himself because he wanted to get the search for her daed started as soon as possible.

Propane lamps were lit in the bishop’s large white house when Daniel arrived. He drove past the house and toward the whitewashed barns beyond it. Odors of overturned earth came from the fields. Reuben must be readying them for planting, using what time he had between storms.

Stopping the buggy, Daniel jumped out and walked to the biggest barn where the animals were stabled on the floor above the milking parlor. Through the uneven floorboards, he could hear the cows mooing. The bishop’s buggy team nickered as he walked past. Several mules looked over the stall doors, their brown eyes curious if he’d brought treats. He patted each one’s neck, knowing they’d had a long day in the fields spreading fertilizer.

He didn’t slow as he went down the well-worn steps to the lower floor. The cows stood in stanchions, and the rhythm of the milking machine run by a diesel generator in the small, attached lean-to matched his footsteps.

Reuben, a tall man who was muscular despite his years, stood up from between a pair of black-and-white cows. He held a milk can in each hand. The bishop’s thick gray beard was woven with a piece of hay, but Daniel didn’t mention it as he greeted the older man.

“You’re here late,” Reuben said in his deep voice.

“I’d like to get your advice.”

The bishop nodded. “I need to put this milk in the dairy tank.” He motioned for Daniel to follow him through a doorway.

“Let me take one.”

“Danki, but they’re balanced like this.” He hefted the milk cans with the strength of a man half his age.

Reuben had been chosen by the lot to be their bishop before Daniel was born. His districts were fortunate to have his gentle, but stern wisdom as well as his dedication to his responsibilities as their bishop. It wasn’t an easy life for a man with a family to support, because those selected by the lot to serve weren’t paid.

When Reuben went to the stainless steel tank where the milk was kept cold by the diesel engine, Daniel opened the top and checked that the filter was in place. He stepped back so Reuben could pour the milk in. As soon as both cans were empty, Reuben lifted out the filter and closed the top. He set the filter in a deep soapstone sink to clean later.

Wiping his hands on a ragged towel, Reuben said, “I hear you’ve got a new job. Fixing the Hunter’s Mill Creek Bridge.”

“Word gets around fast.” He chuckled.

“The Amish grapevine is efficient.”

Daniel had to smile. For people who didn’t use telephones and computers at home, news still managed to spread through the district. He wondered how long it would take for his neighbors to learn about Shelby. News of a kind being left on the Lambrights’ front porch was sure to be repeated with the speed of lightning.

“I went out to the bridge today,” Daniel said. “No work can be done until some bees are removed.”

“Bees?” The bishop leaned against the stainless steel tank. “Doesn’t Hannah Lambright keep bees? The bridge is close to her house, ain’t so? Maybe she’ll be willing to help.”

“I’ve already spoken with her. She’ll take care of the bees if I help her with a few things.”

“Sounds like an excellent solution.” Reuben folded his arms over the ends of his gray beard. He shifted and plucked out the piece of hay. Tossing it aside, he went on, “But from your face, Daniel, and the fact you want to talk with me, I’d guess there’s more to the story.”

“A lot.” In terse detail, Daniel outlined how he’d found the kind after she escaped from the basket. He told the bishop about the note from Hannah’s daed. “Hannah will take care of Shelby, of course, until her daed can be found.”

“Hannah already carries a heavy load of responsibilities with her great-grandmother. Some days, the old woman seems to lose her way, and Hannah must keep a very close watch on her.”

“I offered to help with Shelby.”

The bishop nodded. “A gut neighbor helps when the load becomes onerous.”

“And I also told Hannah I’d come to ask you about whether we should contact the police to get help in finding her daed. If you’re all right with her talking to the police, she agreed that she will.”

Reuben didn’t say anything for several minutes, and Daniel knew the bishop was pondering the problem and its ramifications. It was too big and important a decision to make without considering everything that could happen as a result.

Daniel wished his thoughts could focus on finding Hannah’s missing daed. Instead, his mind kept returning to the woman herself. Not just her beauty, though he’d been beguiled by it. No, he couldn’t keep from thinking how gentle and solicitous she was of the kind and her great-grandmother.

Some had whispered years ago Hannah was too self-centered, like her daed who hadn’t spared a thought for his daughter when he jumped the fence and joined the Englisch world. Daniel had never seen signs of Hannah being selfish when they were walking out. In fact, it’d been the opposite, because he found she cared too much about him. He hadn’t wanted her to get serious about him.

Getting married then, he’d believed, would have made a jumble of his plans to open a construction business. That spring, he’d hoped to submit the paperwork within a few weeks, and he thought being distracted by pretty Hannah might be a problem. In retrospect, it’d been the worst decision he could have made.

He hadn’t wanted to hurt Hannah. He’d thought she’d turn her attention to someone who could love her as she deserved to be loved. But he’d miscalculated. Instead of flirting with other young men, she’d stopped attending gatherings, sending word she needed to take care of her great-grandmother. At the time, he’d considered it an excuse, but now wondered if she’d been honest.

But whether she’d been or not, he knew one thing for sure. He’d hurt her, and he’d never forgiven himself. Nor had he asked for her forgiveness as he should have. Days had passed becoming weeks, then months and years, and his opportunity had passed.

“I thought we’d seen the last of Isaac Lambright,” Reuben said quietly as if he were talking to himself.

“That’s Hannah’s daed?”

The bishop nodded. “Isaac was the last one I guessed would go into the Englisch world. He was a gut man, a devout man who prized his neighbors and his plain life. But when his wife sickened, he changed. He began drinking away his pain. After Saloma died, he refused to attend the funeral and he left within days.”

“Without Hannah.” He didn’t make it a question. “But Isaac has come to Paradise Springs and left another daughter behind.”

“So it would seem.” The bishop sighed. “I see no choice in the matter. The Englisch authorities must be notified. Abandoning a kind is not only an abomination, but a crime. Has the kind said anything to help?”

“Shelby makes sounds she seems to think are words, because she looks at you as if you should know what she’s saying. It’s babbling.”

He nodded. “That was a foolish question. A kind without Down syndrome uses only a few words at her age. An old grossdawdi at my age forgets such things.” His grin came and went swiftly. “But that doesn’t change anything as far as going to the police.” Again he paused, weighing his next words. “Waiting until tomorrow to contact them shouldn’t be a problem. I’d like to take tonight to pray for God’s guidance.”

“Hannah may be hesitant about talking to the cops because she doesn’t want to get her daed into trouble.”

Reuben put his hand on Daniel’s arm. “We must assume Isaac is already in trouble. I can’t imagine any other reason for a daed to leave another one of his daughters as he has.” He sighed. “We’d hoped when Isaac was put under the bann that he’d see the errors of his ways. He told me after Saloma’s death he’d never come back, not even for Hannah. Now he’s done the same thing with another daughter.”

“If Shelby is his daughter and not someone’s idea of a cruel prank.”

“And that, Daniel, is why I’ll be talking with the police tomorrow morning. They’ll know be the best way to find out what’s true and what isn’t.”

“What will happen if Shelby isn’t Hannah’s sister?”

The bishop clasped Daniel’s shoulder and looked him in the eye. “Let’s not seek. The future is in God’s hands, so let’s let Him lead us where we need to go.”

Daniel nodded, bowing his head when the bishop asked him to join him in prayer. He wished a small part of his heart didn’t rebel at the idea of handing over the problem to God. That part longed to do something now. Something he—Daniel himself—could do to make a difference and help Hannah.

After all, he owed her that much.

Didn’t he?

Chapter Three

As the sun rose the next morning, Hannah wondered how she was going to survive the coming day...and the ones to follow. During the night, which had stretched interminably, Shelby had been inconsolable. Her cries from the room across the upstairs hall from Hannah’s had kept Grossmammi Ella awake, too, on the first floor. Hannah had spent the night trying to get them—and herself—back to sleep. She’d managed the latter an hour before dawn.

Then she’d been awoken what seemed seconds later by the sound of her neighbors working in the field between her house and theirs. The Jones family were Englischers, which meant Barry Jones used rumbling tractors and other mechanized equipment in his fields. Usually Hannah was up long before he started work, but not after a night of walking the floor with an anguished toddler and calming her great-grandmother who was outraged at the suggestion her beloved grandson had left another kind on her doorstep.

Hannah dressed and brushed her hair into place. She reached for a bandana to cover it, then picked up her kapp. Daniel had said he was going to talk to Reuben Lapp before he came back this morning. It was possible the bishop might visit to discuss Shelby’s situation. She hoped he would have some sage advice to offer her.

Lots of sage advice...or any sort of advice. She could use every tidbit to raise a toddler who screamed at the sight of her.

“Keeping my eyes open instead of falling asleep on my feet is the smartest thing I can do,” she murmured as she slipped down the stairs.

Passing her great-grandmother’s bedroom door, she was relieved it was closed. Grossmammi Ella had been soothed about Shelby’s arrival because Hannah assured her great-grandmother the kind wouldn’t be with them long. She let Grossmammi Ella believe that Hannah’s daed would return straightaway to collect Shelby.

The situation wasn’t made easier because the elderly woman’s hearing was failing as fast as her memory. The toddler’s cries could slice through concrete, so the noise must be extra jarring for Grossmammi Ella who missed many quieter sounds. No wonder her nerves were on edge.

Hannah whispered an almost silent prayer of gratitude that Grossmammi Ella and the kind were still asleep. She doubted the peace would last long, and she needed to figure out what she absolutely had to do that day. She guessed most of her day would be focused on her abruptly expanded family. For the first time in a week, it wasn’t raining, so Daniel would want her to check the hive.

She sighed. That would be difficult because she couldn’t leave either her great-grandmother or the toddler alone. Though the covered bridge was down the road only a couple hundred feet, going would mean taking Grossmammi Ella and Shelby with her unless someone was at the house to keep an eye on them. She’d ask Daniel to do that while she went to figure out what she’d need to move the bees.

Maybe Daniel would have answers about her daed when he returned. His brother Amos ran the grocery store, and he may have heard something. It was even possible Daed had stopped at the store at the Stoltzfus Family Shops. No, that was unlikely. Why would he go where someone might recognize him?

Oh, Daed, why didn’t you knock on our door? I would have listened to you, and perhaps Shelby wouldn’t be distressed with me if she’d seen you and me together.

There weren’t answers, which is why, during the night while she walked the floor with Shelby, trying to get the little girl to go to sleep, Hannah had known Daniel’s suggestion to get Reuben’s advice about contacting the police was gut. The police had ways of obtaining information no plain person did. She had to concentrate on what was best for Shelby.

With a sigh as she put ground kaffi into the pot on the propane stove, she reminded herself, until she learned how to take care of the toddler and removed the bees from the covered bridge, Daniel would be part of her life. That should last only a few days; then he’d be gone again. Gut, because she didn’t want to let herself or her great-grandmother or Shelby become dependent upon him. She’d do as she promised Daniel, and then she’d go on with her life without him.

As she had before.

A cup of fresh kaffi did little to wake Hannah. She was halfway through her second one when she heard faint cries upstairs. Putting the cup on the counter, she hurried to the toddler’s room.

Shelby was standing in the crib Hannah had wrestled down from the attic last night. Grossmammi Ella kept everything, and Hannah was glad the old crib was still in the house. Shelby’s diaper was half-off, and big tears washed down her face. The sight of the forlorn kind made Hannah want to weep, too. Again she had to fight her exasperation with her daed. Being angry wouldn’t help her or Shelby.

“Hush, little one,” she crooned as she gathered the kind into her arms, hoping Shelby would throw her tiny arms around Hannah’s neck.

Instead the toddler stiffened and screeched out her fury. Hannah longed to tell her everything would be okay, but she wouldn’t lie to her little sister, though she doubted the toddler understood her. So far, it seemed Shelby comprehended simple words and phrases in Englisch. Nothing more, and Hannah hadn’t been able to decipher her babblings.

Daed probably wouldn’t have spoken to her in Deitsch, and it was unlikely Shelby’s mamm knew the language. Or would she? Who was Shelby’s mamm?

In the chaos of yesterday, Hannah hadn’t given the toddler’s mamm much thought. Where was she? Did she know her kind had been left alone on the front porch? Most important, Hannah thought as the little girl leaned her face against her shoulder, would Shelby’s mamm want her back?

All questions she couldn’t answer. What she could do was get Shelby cleaned and fed.

Hannah soon had the little girl, despite Shelby’s attempts to escape, in a fresh diaper and clothes. Another pair of pink overalls. She wondered if those were all Shelby wore. Her white shirt today had pink and blue turtles on it. Hannah needed to make clothes for the little girl, but the pressing matter was diapers. She had only about a half dozen on the dresser.

She came down the stairs with Shelby and saw Grossmammi Ella was awake and in the kitchen waiting for her breakfast. Exactly as she did every morning, but this day was different.

Putting Shelby in the high chair she’d found in the cellar, Hannah handed the toddler some crackers to keep her busy while she scrambled eggs for them. That seemed to quiet the kind who focused her attention on breaking crackers into the tiniest possible pieces.

Hannah gave her great-grandmother a kiss on her wizened cheek. “Gute mariye, Grossmammi Ella,” she said with a smile. “I hope you got some sleep.”

“Some.” She stared at the table.

“Let me get you some kaffi and toast while I make a gut breakfast for us.”

The old woman frowned at Shelby who was dropping minuscule pieces of cracker on the floor. “How long will that kind be here?”

“I told you last night. I’m not sure. I’m sorry she kept you awake.” She went to the stove and pulled a cast-iron frying pan from beneath the oven.

“She doesn’t belong here.”

“What?” Hannah turned, shocked. Grossmammi Ella had always been fond of kinder. Many church Sundays, her great-grandmother was the first to volunteer to hold a fussy boppli on her lap or watch over a little one so older siblings could join in a game after the service. “She may be my sister.”

“I don’t believe you! Your daed would never cast away his daughter like that.”

“He did me.” The words came out before she could halt them.

Her daed was a sore subject between her and Grossmammi Ella. The old woman believed Isaac Lambright would return someday and confess his sins before the congregation. Hannah wondered how her great-grandmother could continue to believe that after fifteen years. Hannah’s anger and grief at being left behind herself had been brought to the forefront by Shelby’s abandonment.

Dear Lord, show me the way to forgive my daed as You taught us. I can’t find a way in my heart to grant him forgiveness after what he’s done.

“Don’t forget what’s in God’s Ten Commandments. A kind should honor her daed and mamm.” Her great-grandmother’s scowl deepened.

“Ja.” She broke eggs into the frying pan and took out her frustration on them by stirring them hard. She did her best to keep the commandments, but her daed’s selfish actions made respecting him difficult.

I’ll try harder, Lord. Help me remember what’s important. She glanced over her shoulder as Shelby flung out her hands. A shower of cracker crumbs went everywhere, into the little girl’s hair, onto the floor, onto the table...onto Grossmammi Ella who abruptly smiled and handed the toddler another cracker. That delighted Shelby who babbled with excitement.

Hannah wanted to wrap her arms around them both and hold them close. The days to come wouldn’t be easy, but for her family, she’d try her hardest.

* * *

“Komm in, young man,” called a wavering voice when Daniel peeked around the front door of the Lambrights’ house after no one responded to his knock. “Don’t just stand there.” The voice took on a reproving tone. “Komm in.”

Daniel did, giving his eyes a moment to adjust to the interior after the bright early morning sunshine. Unbuttoning his coat, he didn’t take it off. He doubted he’d be staying long. He shifted his hold on the bag holding the shampoo and diapers he’d bought at his brother’s store.

A very old woman sat by the window. She was almost gaunt, and her white hair was so thin he could see her scalp through her kapp. Her bony fingers looked like talons as she clasped them on her black apron over her dress of the same color. But her eyes drilled through him as if he were a naughty boy standing in front of his teacher.

“I’m Ella Lambright,” she said, “but you can call me Grossmammi Ella. Who are you?”

“Daniel Stoltzfus.”

She eyed him up and down. “You have the look of Paul Stoltzfus about you.”

“He was my daed.”

“No wonder you look like him then. Why are you here? Are you courting our Hannah?”

Before he could reply, he heard a quick intake of breath beyond the old woman. Glancing toward the kitchen, he saw Hannah wiping her hands on a dish towel. Shelby was sitting in a high chair and eating what looked like toast covered with honey. The toddler would need another bath as soon as she was finished, because honey was smeared all over her face.

Hannah flipped the dish towel over the shoulder of her dark purple dress as her gaze locked with his. She didn’t move or look away. He found he couldn’t either when he saw the deep wells of sorrow in her emotive eyes. Had she believed he’d return with her daed this morning? No, she hadn’t believed that, but she’d hoped. How could he fault her for her faith that all would turn out well in the end? Now wasn’t the time to tell her he’d learned that, though God was a loving Father, He didn’t have time to take care of details. Daniel had decided years ago to handle those on his own.

“Gute mariye,” he said into the strained silence. Pulling out the shampoo bottle from among the packages of diapers, he added, “My sister-in-law uses this on her boppli because it’s gentle on little ones’ hair and doesn’t sting their eyes.”

“Danki.” Her hand trembled as she took the bag without letting her fingers brush his. Setting it on the counter by the sink, she said nothing when he came into the kitchen.

Shelby stretched out sticky fingers toward him. She began to chatter in nonsense sounds. She bounced on the hard high chair, excited to see him again. Honey dripped off her chin, and bits of bread were glued to her face and her hands.

He kissed the top of her head. “How are you doing, Shelby?”

Giggling, she offered him a tiny piece of toast. He ate it, pretending he was going to eat her fingers, as well. That made her laugh louder. He was astonished how deep and rich the sound was.

The toddler’s high spirits vanished when Hannah approached her with a washcloth to clean her hands and face. Shelby screwed up her face and opened her mouth to cry.

Daniel yanked the wet cloth from Hannah’s hand. When she protested, he said, “Let me do it. There’s no reason to upset her again.”

“All right.” Resignation filled Hannah’s voice.

As he cleaned honey and bread crumbs off the little girl’s hands, he stole a glance toward her older sister. He almost gasped aloud at the pain and despair on Hannah’s face. Every instinct told him to toss aside the cloth and pull Hannah into his arms and console her. When they were walking out together, he wouldn’t have hesitated, but everything was different since the night he decided he had to be single-minded in the pursuit of his dream of running a construction company.

“While you’re getting the stickiness off her, I’ll get my beekeeping equipment.” Her voice was muffled, and he guessed she was struggling to hold back the tears he’d seen in her eyes when she wasn’t aware he was looking in her direction.

Again he’d had the chance to say something comforting, but he couldn’t think of anything that wouldn’t upset her. What a disaster he’d made of what had been a gut friendship! To be honest, he was surprised she even talked to him after he’d avoided her during the past three years.

The back door closed behind her, and Daniel focused his attention on Shelby who slapped the high chair tray, getting her fingers sticky again. Picking her up, he sat her on the edge of the table. He succeeded in getting most the honey off her, but some stuck in her hair.

“She’s a gut girl,” said Grossmammi Ella from her chair by the window.

“Ja, she is.” He grinned at Shelby. “And she’s washed.”

“Not that one! Our Hannah is a gut girl.”

Daniel wasn’t sure what the elderly woman was trying to convey to him. Did she want him to leave her great-granddaughter alone so he didn’t have a chance to hurt her again, or was Grossmammi Ella hoping he’d court Hannah? He thought about assuring her that he had no plans to do either. Nothing had changed for him. He was working toward his goal, and it required every bit of his attention.

The door opening allowed him to avoid answering the old woman. In astonishment, he saw Hannah was dressed as she’d been when she’d left. Didn’t beekeepers wear protective suits to keep from getting stung? She held a small metal container with a spout like an inverted funnel on one side and small bellows on the other. The odor of something burning came from it.

“Is that all you’re bringing?” he asked.

“The smoker is all I need.”

“What does it do?”

She looked at the container and squirted some smoke into the air between them. “It baffles the bees. The smoke masks the chemical signals bees use to communicate with each other. They can’t warn each other I’m near. Otherwise, they’d believe the hive is in danger, and they’d attack. It’s an easy way to get close to a hive without getting stung.”

“A gut idea. I’m not fond of bees.”

“They’ll leave you alone if you leave them alone.”

“But we aren’t going to leave them alone.” He reached to take Shelby’s tiny jacket off a nearby peg. It was bright red, and the front closed with a zipper and was decorated with yellow ducklings, something no plain kind would wear.

“What are you doing?” Hannah asked.

“Getting Shelby’s coat on her. I’ll let you help your great-grandmother.”

“What? I’m not taking a toddler or Grossmammi Ella near the bees.”

“They could stay by the road and—”

“Don’t be silly.” She pushed past him and strode toward the front door. “You stay here with them, and I’ll go to the bridge.” Turning, she smiled, and something pleasant—something he remembered from when they spent time together—rippled through him. “I don’t need you to point out where the bees are. I can find them.” She left.

Daniel went out onto the porch with Shelby in his arms, her coat half on. Behind him, he heard Grossmammi Ella asking where everyone was going. He saw her struggling to get to her feet. He didn’t hesitate as he rushed back into the house, not wanting the old woman to fall.

Making sure Hannah’s great-grandmother was seated again and the door closed, he stared out the window as Hannah stepped over the stone wall beside the guardrail. She hurried down the steep hill toward the creek.

He wasn’t worried about her falling in. The current was sluggish because the water behind the dam upstream beside the remnants of the old mill was still partially frozen. Daniel wanted to get as much work as possible done before the water rose when the ice melted. Once the failing joists were replaced, he could complete the interior work even if it rained. Discovering the hive had threatened to destroy his timetable.

He had to make this job a success. The bridge was one of the few in the area not washed away by Hurricane Agnes in 1972. The wear and tear on the bridge couldn’t be ignored any longer. The original arched supports and the floor joists needed to be strengthened. Most of the deck boards would have to be replaced. The walls were rotted. Work he knew how to do, and he’d been pleased when the highway supervisor, Jake Botti, asked him to take over the project. It was the first step toward his long-held dream of becoming a general contractor.

Suddenly Shelby began chattering in his ear and wiggling. He set her on the floor. Once he took off her coat, she waddled to a chair and began to try to pull herself onto it.

Daniel’s eyes shifted between the toddler and Hannah who was standing by the bridge and staring at the beam where he’d found the bees. She squirted smoke at the opening several times. She paused, then squeezed the bellows on the side of the smoker again. The wisps of smoke swirled around her, making her disappear; then she emerged from the gray cloud and retraced her steps to the house.

He opened the door before she could. “Did you see them?”

“Ja.” She left her smoker on the porch, then came into the house. Motioning with her head toward the kitchen, she walked past Shelby who was focused on climbing onto the chair.

Grossmammi Ella didn’t acknowledge any of them as she continued to gaze out the window. Unsure if she’d notice if Shelby fell, Daniel grabbed the toddler before he went into the kitchen.

“Would you like some tea while we talk?” Hannah asked as she opened the cupboard and reached in for two cups.

“Sounds gut. I’ll put Shelby in her high chair, if you’d like.”

She shook her head. “Let her play on the floor. Next to the sewing machine, there’s a small box of toys I found in the attic. Will you get them out for her?”

He complied, trying to curb his impatience. He wanted to ask about the bees again. If Hannah couldn’t move them, work would have to be delayed until an exterminator could come to the bridge. Having promised he’d get the project done in six weeks or less, losing precious time might make the difference between finishing on time or being late.

Hannah didn’t speak again after she’d placed two steaming cups on the table. Sitting, she waited for him to pull out the chair across from her. She took a sip from her cup, then said, “You’re right. It’s a hive of honeybees.”

“Can you move it?”

She nodded as she wrapped her hands around her cup. “I’ll have to move it twice.”

“Why?”

“If we lived farther away from the bridge, I could move your hive once. Because I keep my own hives so close to the bridge, if I move those new bees to a new hive behind the house, they’ll simply return to the bridge and rebuild their hive. I’ll keep them in the cellar in the dark for the next couple of weeks or so. Then, when I put the new hive outside, the bees will have lost their scent trails to the bridge. They’ll become accustomed to the new location and stay here.”

He watched her face as she continued speaking of relocating the bees as if they were as important to her as her great-grandmother. Her voice contained a sense of authority and undeniable knowledge about how to execute her plan. The uncertain girl he’d known three years ago had become a woman who was confident in her ability with bees.

When she smiled, an odd, but delightful tremor rushed through him again. He dampened it. They were in the here and now, not the past.

“Daniel, I’ll need you to do one more thing for me as part of our bargain.”

“What’s that?”

“The hive is going to need a new home. I don’t have any extra honey supers, and it will take at least a week or two for some to arrive from my supplier.”

“Honey supers?”

“The boxes stacked to make a hive.”

He wasn’t sure what she was talking about, but he said, “Show me what you need, and I’ll build it. Anything else?”

“No. I’ve got the rest of the materials I need.”

When Hannah went to the back door, he scooped up Shelby and followed. Somehow he was going to have to persuade these two stubborn Lambright women they could trust each other. He wasn’t sure how.

Daniel faltered as Hannah walked to two stacks of rectangular boxes set off the ground on short legs. She glanced back as if wondering why he’d stopped, but she halted, too, when her gaze settled on Shelby. Hannah explained what size the four stackable boxes she’d need for the new hive must be as well as describing the cross braces that supported the frames for the honeycomb.

“Sounds simple enough,” he said when she finished.

A raindrop struck his face, then another. He glanced up as rain pelted them. Together they rushed into the house. Shelby giggled as she bounced in his arms.

Hannah closed the door behind them. “It looks as if the sky is going to open up. You’re going to get wet.”

If you don’t head out now. He finished the rest of her sentence, which she hadn’t spoken. She couldn’t make it any clearer he was overstaying his welcome.

He’d take the hint, but not until he got the information he needed. “When will you be able to move the bees?”

“It can’t be a rainy day or a warm one. The rain can hurt the bees when I cut the comb out of the old hive, and, if it’s warm, they’ll be flying about looking for nectar. A lot of the bees could be lost that way.” She looked past him to where rain splattered on the window over the sink. “As soon as you have the supers built and the weather cooperates, I’ll move them. Looks like rain tomorrow, so I can do it the day after if everything’s ready.”

“Sounds gut.” He slapped his forehead. “No, day after tomorrow won’t work. You’ve got to take Shelby to Paradise Springs that day.”

“What?”

“On my way here, I stopped at the health clinic and made a doktor’s appointment for Shelby.”

“You did what?” Her brown eyes darkened with strong emotions. “Shelby is my responsibility, not yours.”

“Ja, but, when I told my mamm about finding Shelby, she insisted the kind be seen by the doktorfraa as soon as possible.” He grinned, hoping she’d push aside her anger. “I learned many years ago not to argue with my mamm when she speaks with that tone.”

Hannah’s eyes continued to snap at him, but she took a deep breath and released it as he set the toddler beside the box of toys again. He pulled out the appointment card with the time on it and handed it to her.

In a calmer tone, as she put the card in the pocket of her apron, she said, “I’m sorry. I should have thanked you for making the appointment, Daniel.” Before he could relax, she hurried on, “But from this point forward, making appointments for Shelby has to be my responsibility and mine alone. If the note’s right, she’s my sister. If she’s not, she was left on my porch. But I do appreciate your mamm being concerned about her. Please tell her.”

“I will, and, Hannah, if you’d like, I’ll go with you and Shelby to the appointment.” He glanced at the kind. “I can see she’s not cooperating with you.”

“That’s a gut idea.”

Surprised at her quick acceptance of his help, when she’d resisted at every turn before, he said, “I’ll pick you up about a half hour before the appointment, if that works for you.”

“That should be fine.”

When she didn’t add anything else, he knew he needed to leave. Something he couldn’t name urged him to stay, but he ignored it, unsure what would happen if he lingered an extra minute more.

Ruffling Shelby’s hair, he bid Hannah and her great-grandmother goodbye. He heard the toddler cry out in dismay as he closed the door behind him. The sound chased him across the grass and toward his buggy on the road alongside the creek. As he climbed in, a motion inside the house caught his eye.

A shadow moved in front of the living room window. Was Hannah watching him leave? He was surprised when he realized he hoped she was.

He sighed. Hannah Lambright was as unpredictable as the bees she loved, and he was going have to be extra careful around her.

Extra, extra careful.

Chapter Four

Daniel kneaded his lower back as he got to his feet. He’d already worked a full day and had decided to use a few hours after supper to work on his special project. He stretched out kinks and looked around the living room of the house he was building in the woods on his family’s farm. Nailing floor molding was a time-consuming job, especially when he wasn’t using a nail gun as he did when he worked for Englisch contractors. He could have borrowed an air compressor to power his tools, but he’d decided he wanted to build the house as his ancestors had. Now he was paying for his pride.

Hochmut. One of the most despised words among the Amish, because plain folks found pride contemptible. But he’d had a gut reason for his decision. He intended to use the house as a showcase for his skills when he solicited clients. He needed to stick with the choice he’d made. His family considered him too frivolous already because he took a different girl home from each singing.

Mamm had mentioned more than once—some days—it was time he considered starting a family as his other brothers were doing. She’d been delighted as each of her kinder married. Both of his sisters were wed as well as three of his six brothers, not including Isaiah who was a widower. His oldest brother Joshua remarried last year, surprising Daniel who’d wondered if Joshua would recover from his grief at the death of his first wife.

Leaning one shoulder against the kitchen doorway that needed to be framed, Daniel appraised what else wasn’t done. The rest of the molding, painting, appliances in the kitchen, furniture. A year ago, he’d thought the idea of having a showcase for what he could do was an inspired idea, but now he just wanted to be done. Once he had projects completed for clients, he could use them as examples, and he’d give this house to his twin brother, Micah, when he married.

Micah was in love with Katie Kay Lapp, the bishop’s daughter, but Katie Kay couldn’t know because his twin brother, Micah, hadn’t asked to take her home. Not once. Instead, he’d stood aside month after month, mooning over the vivacious young woman while others courted her. That Katie Kay seemed to have no steady suitor had convinced Micah he had a chance with the woman who was at the center of every gathering.

If Micah did get up his gumption and walked out with Katie Kay other than in his imagination, the house in the woods would be the perfect wedding gift. Maybe it was a gut thing Micah continued to hesitate because the house was taking longer to finish than Daniel had expected.

On other jobs, Daniel was accustomed to working with a crew. He’d had to do the work of different trades as he poured a foundation, raised walls and put on the roof. When he hadn’t known how to run the propane lines to power the refrigerator, the range and the stoves that would heat the cozy house, he’d watched and learned from a plumber at a project where Daniel was doing the roofing. With each unfamiliar task, he was able to correct any mistakes he made on his house, so he wouldn’t have to do the same for his clients.

The door opened with a squeak. Daniel added oiling the hinges to his to-do list as his brother Jeremiah walked in.

Like the rest of the Stoltzfus brothers, Jeremiah was tall and unafraid of work. His hair was reddish-brown and a few freckles remained of the multitude that once covered his face and hands. His hands were often discolored with the stain and lacquer he applied to the furniture pieces he built. He wasn’t shy, but could never be described as outspoken either. He stayed quiet when he didn’t have anything to say.

“You wanted to borrow my miter box,” he said in lieu of a greeting. He held out the tool that would allow Daniel to cut the corners for the supers he planned to make for Hannah tonight.

“Danki.”

Jeremiah squatted to appraise Daniel’s work. “Are you painting the molding white or staining it?”

“I haven’t decided.” He grinned at his older brother. “I know you’d stain it. You hate painted wood.”

“Paint hides the beauty and imperfections in the wood.” Glancing over his shoulder, he said, “I hear you’re involved with Hannah Lambright again.”

“Involved? Not really. I’m helping her take care of a toddler, and she’s helping me move a beehive off the bridge.”

“That sounds like involvement to me.”

Daniel picked up his hammer and moved across the room. Kneeling, he drove another nail into a section of molding. “Not in the way you’re insinuating. Hannah treats me as if I’m a necessary evil.”

“That can’t be a surprise to you.”

It wasn’t, but he didn’t intend to admit that to his brother. Jeremiah was the one who was most like their daed. Paul Stoltzfus had been calm, taking each challenge as it came. Jeremiah, on the other hand, was calm almost to the point of appearing passionless for anything but his work. If his brother had recently taken a girl home from a youth gathering, Daniel hadn’t heard of it. Jeremiah wouldn’t walk out with a girl without planning every detail and considering every ramification. He wouldn’t have made the mistakes Daniel had with Hannah.

“I’m pleased,” Daniel said, “she can remove the bees. I wasn’t looking forward to getting stung.” He gestured with his head toward the boards on the far side of the room. “I’m making her a hive, and she’ll make sure the bees are out of our way.”

Jeremiah didn’t say anything for several minutes, and the only sound was the hammer driving nails into the wood.

Daniel waited, knowing his brother must have something else to say if he’d come over to the house.

“When are you seeing her again?” Jeremiah asked as if there hadn’t been a break in the conversation.

“I’m seeing her and Shelby the day after tomorrow. Shelby has an appointment for a checkup at the clinic in town, and the little girl refuses to cooperate with Hannah.”

“And she does with you?”

He gave his brother a wry smile. “Ja.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” Jeremiah held up his hands to forestall Daniel’s reply. “You don’t need to answer. I know what you’re going to say. When did any woman, no matter her age, make sense to a man?”

“I wasn’t going to say that.”

“No?” His brother laughed, at ease in the unfinished house in a way that he wasn’t around a crowd of people. “If so, it’s the first time you haven’t said that.”

Daniel wanted to shoot back a sharp reply, but he couldn’t. Not when Jeremiah was right. He’d said those words more times than he could count. Each time, he’d meant them.

So why wasn’t he saying them tonight?

Two reasons: Hannah Lambright and her little sister, Shelby. They’d invaded his thoughts, and he couldn’t shake them loose. He shouldn’t feel responsible for Shelby because he’d discovered her on the Lambrights’ porch, but he did. And, as for Hannah, he shouldn’t feel...however he felt. He wasn’t sure what to call the morass of emotions bubbling through him whenever he thought of her or spoke with her.

But he was sure of one thing. He needed to get those feelings sorted out before he saw her again.

* * *

Hannah sat at the kitchen table and worked on the equipment she’d need for moving the bees. She’d thought about doing a load of laundry before Shelby and her great-grandmother woke, but rain was falling steadily.

She hoped the day after tomorrow would be dry and cool. If the bees on the covered bridge were cold, they’d cling to the center of the hive and be unlikely to swarm. She must prevent a swarm. Once the queen took it in her mind to leave, the rest of the bees would follow. They might fly to the next opening in the boards beneath the bridge. The current hive wasn’t difficult for her to reach, but farther out along the bridge would make it impossible. And it must not be raining when she moved the bees. Removing them from the safety of their hive in the rain could mean some drowning in the open super she’d use to carry them away from the bridge.

Reaching for another of the rectangular frames she’d used for the honeycomb, Hannah glanced out the window at her pair of hives farther up the hill toward the stone barn. She didn’t keep them close to the house, because Grossmammi Ella was scared of being stung.

The bees would start emerging soon. Nothing was blooming, so they had no work. If the rain stopped and the weather grew sunny, the bees would try to keep busy anyhow. She must make sure they had food in the hive so they wouldn’t starve before they could start gathering pollen and nectar.

Looking at the frames on the table in front of her, she smiled. She’d checked each one to make sure it was in gut condition. If Daniel made the supers to her specifications, she could hook the pieces of comb onto the frames with rubber bands and set them in the boxes. The bees would take care of the rest, hooking the comb into place.

A piece of mesh was in the center of the table. She’d place it at the bottom of the hive, so debris could fall from the hive out onto the ground. She had everything she needed other than the supers.

Her hands stilled on the stack of frames. Had she been a complete fool to agree to help Daniel in exchange for him teaching her about taking care of Shelby?

Give to him that asketh thee, and from him that would borrow of thee turn not thou away. The verse from Matthew echoed inside her mind.

She’d done the right thing to accept Daniel’s suggestion of a barter, but it wasn’t easy to see him day after day, because each conversation was another reminder of how he’d dumped her without a backward glance. She appreciated how he’d offered to help her take Shelby to the doktorfraa. The kind had screamed every time Hannah came near her yesterday until Grossmammi Ella had begun to complain. Tears had led to another night with no sleep. Now, her great-grandmother and the toddler were asleep, so Hannah had time to gather what she needed for the bees’ removal.

A noise came from upstairs. The sound of Shelby’s crib creaking against the floor. The little girl must be awake.

Gathering the frames and mesh, Hannah set them beside her sewing machine. She hurried up the stairs and into the kind’s room. A bed draped with a quilt was pushed against the wall to leave room in the middle for the crib Hannah had used as a boppli.

For once, the little girl didn’t shriek at the sight of her. Instead, she cried silent sobs. Her left cheek was swollen, and she kept pulling at the side of her mouth. When the kind started to make her gibberish sounds, Hannah noticed a swelling on her left lower gum.

“Oh, you poor little girl,” she murmured. “You’re teething, ain’t so?”

She cuddled Shelby close with the toddler’s right cheek against her shoulder. Carrying her downstairs, she went into the kitchen. She kept Shelby balanced on her hip while opening a cupboard and taking out a bottle of honey.

“Let’s try this.” She dipped her finger into the open bottle and rubbed a little bit of honey on Shelby’s gum.

The kind started to pull away, then paused as the sweet flavor soothed her. Or maybe the honey had already eased the pain. Hannah wasn’t sure, but Amos Stoltzfus, Daniel’s brother who owned the grocery store, had mentioned several times he’d been asked by a mamm for honey to help with her boppli’s teething.

Carrying the little girl into the living room, Hannah sat in the rocking chair and brushed Shelby’s sweaty bangs off her forehead. Hannah crooned a wordless tune as the little girl faded into a deep slumber. For the first time since her arrival at the house, Shelby didn’t fight going to sleep.

What a wunderbaar bundle the toddler was in her arms! Hannah hadn’t realized, at some moment after Daniel had dumped her and her great-grandmother demanded so much of her attention, she’d relinquished the thought of having kinder. When she was younger, she’d dreamed of a house filled with a large family. It’d been lonely being an only kind when her classmates had had lots of siblings. She’d watched them together and wondered what it would be like to have sisters and brothers. Almost until the day her mamm had died, she’d prayed the Lord would bless her family with more bopplin. She’d longed to be the older sister, teaching the little ones to walk and to talk and to play.

God had brought Shelby into her life, and it was Hannah’s duty to help the toddler learn to become a gut member of their community. This special kind was already a blessing.

Maybe, after this morning, the little girl would stop crying whenever Hannah was near. If only it could be that easy!

Hopes of Shelby trusting her vanished as soon as the toddler awoke and began crying the moment her eyes opened. She looked away as Hannah stood and went to the kitchen to get the honey to ease the toddler’s teething pain.

“The boppli sounds hungry,” Grossmammi Ella said after Hannah had spread the honey on Shelby’s gum again. The old woman walked to the stove with a determination Hannah hadn’t seen in months. “I’ll make her some fried mush. My kinder loved it, and my kins-kinder loved it more.”

“We’ve been blessed to have you in the kitchen.” Hannah stifled a yawn as she set a fussy Shelby in the high chair. The honey seemed to be doing the trick again because the toddler’s screeches had eased to soft whimpers. “Do you want me to measure out the cornmeal?”

Her great-grandmother waved aside her suggestion. “If after all these years of cooking for three generations I can’t figure out how to much cornmeal to put in for fried mush, I should give up my apron.”

Hannah laughed hard, surprising herself. How long had it been since she’d given in to laughter, letting it surge through her and leaving her awash with happiness? She didn’t want to know, because it’d been far too long.

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