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
