"But Jenny seems fine now. She hardly has a limp—"
"I still catch a glimpse in her eyes sometimes," Matthew said quietly. "And every so often she has nightmares and she doesn't want to talk about them."
Stunned, Hannah stared at him. "I had no idea."
"She hides it well."
He hugged her. "Thank you for stepping in to help while Jenny's gone."
"You're changing the subject."
"Me? No."
He returned to the stove and checked the contents of another pan, then opened the oven. "Mmm, biscuits too?"
Huffing out a breath, she went to shut the oven. "Shoo!"
She waved her hands at him and he scooted out of range."Out of my kitchen." She stopped. "Oh, I didn't mean to say that. It's not my kitchen."
"It was for a long time." His grin faded. "What would the kinner and I have done without you after Amelia died?"
She waved away his thanks. "I loved doing it. Sometimes I miss being around them so much."
"But you're right next door with Phoebe."
"I know. But they're growing so fast."
"I'd hoped—" he stopped and held up his hands. "Don't look at me that way."
"Don't start with the talk of maybe it's time to be looking for a husband."
She opened the jar of applesauce and poured the contents into a pan to warm. Then she grabbed a potholder and opened the oven door.
Pulling out the biscuits, she set the pan on top of the oven."Call everyone to the table. Supper's almost ready."
"But—"
"Maybe those biscuits need to stay in the oven a little longer," she said thoughtfully.
Matthew backed away, holding up his hands. "Then they'll be like Jenny's. Please don't do that to us!"
Laughing, she set the potholder down. "Only because I wouldn't do that to innocent kinner. Now get away from the stove!"
"What a sharp tongue."
Poor Jenny, thought Hannah as she used a spatula to move the biscuits from the pan to a cloth-lined basket. All of them loved to tease her for her cooking. She tried so hard but she often got busy with her writing and let things burn. Hannah planned to get her a timer for a Christmas present. A nice loud one. That should keep her from forgetting something in the oven or on the stove.
Footsteps were heard overhead.
"I'll go call the kinner," Matthew said.
"Danki," she said with a smile.
He left the room and she heard him walk to the stairs and bellow up, "Supper's ready!"
Thoughtful, Hannah forked the pork chops onto a serving platter and poured warmed applesauce over them. She placed the platter in the center of the table, scooped green beans into a dish, and then pulled a pan of scalloped potatoes from the oven.
The table had been set by Mary, the water poured by Annie.Joshua had helped by doing chores in the barn with Matthew.
There, she thought. Everything is ready.
She heard a knock on the front door and when she went to answer it, found Chris on the doorstep. "You're right on time."
"I'm always on time for work. And for a meal."
"Then you'll get along well with Matthew."
"So he told you."
She closed the door and turned to face him. "Ya, he told me."
6
If the morning hadn't been so quiet and if she hadn't been in the kitchen sipping her first cup of coffee, Hannah might not have heard it.
It began as a low moaning sound that had her wondering if she heard right, then it became a muffled hoarse scream.
At first, she thought one of the kinner was having a nightmare, but then she realized that the noise came from the door off the kitchen that led to the dawdi haus.
She walked over and pressed her ear to the door. Could Chris be in pain? What should she do?
She knocked at the door. "Chris?" When he didn't answer, she knocked again, louder this time, and got the same lack of response. She banged on it this time, hoping she'd get him to answer so that she didn't have to go wake up Matthew.
Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and called his name.
"I'm here," he said, appearing before her.
She turned just in case he wore pajamas . . . or less.
"It's okay. I'm dressed."
She turned back and saw that he looked rumpled and bleary-eyed.
"Yeah? What is it? Did I oversleep?"
"Are you all right? It sounded like you were in pain."
"I'm fine."
"It's early. Matthew won't expect you for another hour."
He nodded and shut the door.
"Well, and guder mariye to you too," she muttered and went back to her coffee. It had cooled a little so she topped it off with more and sat down again.
She'd heard the Englisch refer to themselves as "early birds" or "night owls." Only one type of bird lived in the Plain community: early. The day began before the sun came up.