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.”
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
