picked up her needles again, and Hannah hoped the subject was dropped. She could not work for Jacob Schrock. He would be out of her life by the end of the week. The last thing she needed was to be in constant contact with him, working with him on a daily basis. The way he looked at her? Such a mixture of pity and compassion. She didn’t need to face that every day, and how could she leave Matthew?
Always her mind circled back to that final question. How could she leave her son eight, maybe even nine hours a day? Could she expect her mother to pick up the slack? How was Mamm supposed to cope with one more thing on top of all she had to do?
Matthew wheeled through the doorway and into the waiting room, a smiley sticker on the back of his hand, and Hannah began gathering up her things. It was as she turned to go that Sally said, “Think about it, Hannah. It could be that you would be a real blessing to Jacob, and maybe...maybe it would solve your problems in the process.”
* * *
She’d have to ask Jacob about the job.
Only of course, she wouldn’t. It was all none of her business. Soon he’d be done with the playhouse and she wouldn’t see him again, which would suit her just fine. Dolly clip-clopped down the road, more content with the day than Hannah was.
She would be content, if she had a job. If they didn’t have financial problems. If she wasn’t so worried about Matthew.
It would be crazy to consider working for Jacob.
He might be a kind, talented man, but he was also damaged. He’d suffered a terrible loss, which might explain why he pushed his nose into other people’s business. Just the day before, he’d looked at her as if she was crazy when she’d tried to put a sweater on Matthew. True, it was eighty degrees, but Matthew had been known to catch a cold in warmer weather than that.
Nope. Jacob Schrock didn’t belong in her life.
Matthew peeled the sticker off his hand and stuck it on to the buggy.
“Your therapists said you did a gut job today.”
“Uh-huh.”
“They also said you did everything fast, that you seemed to be in a rush to be done.”
“Are we almost home?”
“A few more miles.”
“Faster, please.”
“You want me to hurry this old buggy mare?”
“Daddi’s horse is faster.”
“Indeed.” Her father had ordered a second buggy horse when she’d come home to live. Hannah had protested it wasn’t necessary, but he’d insisted. Come to think of it, maybe he’d insisted because Dolly was getting older and they’d have to replace her soon, which didn’t bear thinking about. Dolly was the first buggy horse that Hannah had learned to drive.
While Matthew stared out the window, he pinched his bottom lip in between his thumb and forefinger, pulling it out like a pout and then letting it go. It was a habit that she saw only when he was anxious about something.
And she didn’t doubt for a minute that the source of his anxiety was right now hammering two-by-fours into the shape of a train.
They were about to pass the parking area for the Pumpkinvine Trail. Hannah pulled on the right rein and called out to Dolly, who docilely turned off the road.
“Why are we stopping?” Matthew frowned out at the trail, a place he usually enjoyed visiting.
“We need to talk.”
Now he stared up at her, eyes wide. “Am I in trouble?”
“No, Matt. Not at all.”
“Then what?”
Instead of answering, she studied him a minute. Already he had such a unique personality—with his own likes, dislikes and ideas. Admittedly, she felt more protective of him than most mothers might feel of a nearly five-year-old child, but she understood that this concern wasn’t only about his disability. It was also about his not having a father, about his missing the presence of a dad in his life.
“You like Jacob a lot. Don’t you?”
“Yes!”
“But you remember that he’s only at our house because some people paid him to be there.”
“Uh-huh.”
“He’s doing a job.”
“And I’m his ’rentice.”
Hannah sighed, closed her eyes, and prayed for patience and wisdom. When she opened her eyes, Matt reached out and patted her hand. “Don’t worry, Mamm. He’s a gut guy. Even Daddi said so.”
“Oh, ya, I’m sure he is.”
“So what’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, really. But you do understand that Jacob is only going to be at our house for a few days, right? Then he’ll have another job, building another playhouse for someone else.”
Matt frowned and pulled on his bottom lip. “Another kid like me?”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?” Hannah reached out and brushed the hair out of his eyes.
“Uh-huh.”
“What do you mean, okay?”
“It’s okay that Jacob won’t be at our house because he’ll be at somebody else’s house making them happy.”
Since she didn’t have an answer for that, she called out to Dolly, who backed up and then trotted out of the parking area, back onto the two-lane.
She was willing to admit that possibly her son saw things more clearly than she did. Didn’t the Bible tell them they were to become like little children? Hannah wasn’t sure she’d be able to do that—her worries weighed too heavily on her heart, but maybe in this situation she could follow Matt’s lead. At least for a few more days.
And she would double her efforts looking for a job because she most certainly was not going to ask Jacob about what kind of help he needed.
* * *
Jacob had always enjoyed working on playhouses. He liked building things with an eye for small children. Some people might say it was because his own father had built him a similar type of playhouse. But his father had also taught him to play baseball and he had no urge to coach the youngies. His father had taught him how to sow seed and harvest it, but he had no desire to be a farmer.
He was grateful for his father, for both of his parents, and he still missed them terribly. But learning to build wooden playthings for children had been a gift from Gotte, a real blessing at the lowest point in his life. Today he was able to share part of that blessing
