A Widow's Hope. Vannetta Chapman
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it wasn’t really his business.
He reached into the buggy, snagged Matt’s straw hat and placed it on his head. The boy gave him a thumbs-up, and adjusted himself in the chair as easily as Jacob straightened his suspenders in the morning.
“Let’s go,” Matthew said.
“Whoa. Hang on a minute. We need to see to your mamm’s horse first.”
“I can take care of Dolly,” Hannah insisted.
“Nonsense.” He stepped closer to Hannah and lowered his voice. “What kind of neighbor would I be if I let you do that?”
“You’re our neighbor now?”
“In a sense.”
“So you want to take care of my horse?”
“Ya. I do.”
“Fine. I’ll just go inside and have a cup of tea.”
“But I thought you might go with us and...” His words slid away as she walked toward the house, waving without turning around.
“Come on, Jacob. Let’s do this.”
Matthew wheeled alongside him as he led the mare into the barn.
“Her name’s Dolly,” Matthew said when they stopped inside the barn.
The horse lowered her head so that she was even with the boy. Matthew sat in front of her and stroked from her forehead to her muzzle.
“Good Dolly,” Matthew said.
Jacob unhitched the buggy, took off the harness and placed it on the peg on the wall, and then led Dolly through the barn to the pasture.
“Now?” Matt asked.
“Now.”
Matt had to move slowly over the parts of uneven ground that led to where the playhouse was being constructed. It was definitely the best place for the structure, as Alton had noted. But the going was a little rough, and it occurred to Jacob that a wooden walk would make things much easier. He had enough lumber scraps at home to do it. An extra day, maybe two, and he could have a nice smooth path from the driveway to the playhouse.
“That is way cool,” Matt exclaimed, sounding exactly like an Englisch boy Jacob had built a playhouse for the week before. Kids were kids, and cool was a pretty standard response to something they liked.
“Let’s show you the inside.”
Jacob let Matthew go first and watched as he maneuvered his way up the small ramp and into the main cabin of the train. The engine room was to his left and the passenger car was to his right. Beyond that was a small back porch. On an actual train, this would be the end of the observation car, and the area would resemble a roofed porch. Now that he thought about it, a roof wasn’t a bad idea. He could add it easily enough.
Matthew made his way to the front of the train. Jacob had created a space where he could pull up his wheelchair and pretend he was in the conductor’s seat. To his right Jacob had fastened a wooden bench and in front of him there were knobs and such for him to pull and pretend to direct the train.
“Wow,” he said.
“We’re not finished yet, buddy. We still need to put on the roof, and...other stuff.”
“Can I help?”
“I’m counting on it. I’ll be here early tomorrow morning.”
They were standing right next to each other, or rather, Jacob was standing next to Matthew. Before Jacob realized what was happening, Matt had pivoted in his seat and thrown his arms around his legs.
“Danki,” the boy said in a low voice.
“Ger gschehne.” Jacob found that his voice was tight, but the words of their ancestors passed between them as easily as water down a riverbed.
Jacob pushed Matthew’s chair the length of the car. They moved slowly, studying every detail, until Hannah’s mamm came outside and rang the dinner bell.
Jacob did not intend to stay and eat, but it seemed that Claire expected it. She’d already set an extra place at the table. It would have been rude to refuse, or so he told himself.
The meal was satisfying and the conversation interesting. He realized that too often he ate alone, that he actually missed the back-and-forth between family members. There was no reason for it either. His brother lived next door, and he had a standing offer to eat with them.
Why had he pulled away?
Had it been so painful to see what he would never have?
There was no such awkwardness with Hannah’s family. Claire spoke of the painted bunting she’d spied on the birdbath. Alton updated them on the crops. Hannah described how well Matthew had done at physical therapy.
As for Matthew, he was practically nodding off in his seat by the time they’d finished eating.
Hannah excused herself, transferred him from the dinner chair to the wheelchair and pushed him down the hall.
“She’s pretty amazing, your daughter.” He hadn’t meant to say the words. They’d slipped from his heart to his lips without consulting his brain.
If Alton and Claire were surprised, they hid it well. Claire stood and began clearing the table. Alton offered to see him out. They’d stepped outside when Jacob shared his ideas for a wooden walk to the playhouse as well as a small platform for the dinner table.
“Must be hard on Hannah, on her back I mean—moving him from one chair to the other so often.”
“And I have to be fast to beat her to it. Your ideas sound gut, but I’m afraid the grant doesn’t cover that, and I don’t have any extra money at the moment.”
Jacob waved away his concerns. “I have leftover lumber. It won’t cost me anything but time.”
“Which is precious for every man.”
“It’s okay. I don’t have to start the next job until Monday.” He didn’t mention the orders he had at his shop. He could put in a few hours each night and stay ahead on that.
“Then I accept, and I thank you.”
“You can tell me it’s none of my business, but Hannah seemed particularly preoccupied tonight. Is something wrong? Something else?”
Alton stuck his thumbs under his suspenders. “Money is a bit tight.”
“How tight?”
“Missed a few payments on the place.”
“What did your banker say about that?”
“Said they could extend me another thirty days, but then they’ll have to start the foreclosure process.”
“I’m sorry, Alton. I had no idea. Have you spoken to your bishop?”
Alton waved that idea away. “My family has received plenty of help from the benevolence fund in the last year. We’ll find a way through this on our own.”
“And Hannah?”
“Hannah is determined to find a job.”
* * *
The entire drive home he thought of Alton’s words, of the family’s financial problems and of the help he needed in order to prepare him for the IRS audit. He could ask Hannah. It wasn’t a completely crazy idea. He remembered that she was good at sums, and it wasn’t as if she needed to understand algebra. It only required someone more organized than he was.
She was stubborn and willful and curt at times, but he wasn’t going to be dating her. He was going to hire her.
Or was he?
It wasn’t until he was home and cleaning up for bed that