This was Hannah's favorite time of the day, when she had some quiet time to pray and enjoy the dawn of another day He'd given her. Quiet time alone with her thoughts had been precious when she took care of her brother's kinner and his home.
Each morning she lived here, she saw Joshua, Mary, and Annie come downstairs in varying stages of wakefulness and readiness to start the day. She packed lunches while the kinner ate breakfast; and she watched the clock to make sure she shooed them out the door in time for schul.
Mornings were always quiet at Phoebe's. The two women moved about the kitchen quietly, talked without interruption of young voices, and ate their meal in peace.
Oh, how she missed the slightly chaotic mornings of this house, she thought, smiling. When Jenny had come here as Matthew's wife, Hannah had felt a moment's envy and sadness that her time as a temporary mamm ended. Phoebe had been so wonderful to ask her to live with her in the house next door.She seemed to understand the loss Hannah felt. She made her feel welcome and kept her busy getting settled.
Hannah knew she could go next door at any time to see her nieces and nephew, and they came over often to see her. But she'd missed being needed to help with an occasional homework assignment—not that many were assigned since Plain kinner had chores once they came home.
And while Joshua, Mary, and Annie were usually wellbehaved, she still occasionally needed to referee a mild disagreement or redistribute chores. Her favorite time with them came when she prepared their evening meals, and afterward, read them stories.
She'd had a borrowed family who had given her someone— four someones—to love. However, it made her realize how much she wanted a family—a family of her own, not just a borrowed one.
And now that she no longer had them to focus on, she found it even harder not to yearn for her own family.
With a sigh, she got up and turned the gas oven on to preheat.She'd make something special, maybe her breakfast casserole, to send everyone off to schul and to work. She reached for the pan she used, then hesitated and glanced at the door to the dawdi haus. The pan she held in her hand wouldn't be large enough to hold a casserole for another man-sized appetite in the house. Best to use two smaller pans so they wouldn't be too heavy to lift or take too long to bake. The men who were helping Matthew with the harvest would be here soon.
She'd thought Chris would be gone by now and wondered what it would be like to have him here. He was a type of man she'd never known, one who drew her to want to understand him and yet one she knew she should hold at arm's length because he never could be part of her world.
Chris shot straight up in bed, covered in a cold sweat, panting as if he'd run a race. Groggy because he felt ripped from a deep, unsatisfying sleep.
Someone knocked on the door that separated the dawdi haus from the main one. He pulled on his jeans and dragged a t-shirt over his head as he padded barefoot to the door. Had he overslept on the first morning he'd said he'd work for Matthew?
When he opened the door, he stared into Hannah's concerned face. "Yeah?"
"Are you all right?" His heart sank. She'd obviously heard him having the nightmare. Feeling embarrassed, he frowned, assured her he felt fine, and shut the door as quickly as possible.
He walked back to the bed and threw himself down on it.After a while, he turned over. His glance went to his backpack and the gifts he'd bought yesterday that were piled on the wooden dresser. He looked at the doll's blank face and remembered another childish image.
The memory of a child's wide, tear-filled eyes flashed into his mind, painfully reminding him that he'd condemned the boy's father to be shut behind gray prison walls for years. He could still hear the child crying, hear the voice of the boy's mother accusing him of betrayal, cursing him for what he'd done.
It was no less than he'd done to himself then, and since.
Rising, he went to shower and dress for the day. One foot in front of the other, he told himself. That's how he got through most days. He'd come here just wanting to talk to Jenny about how she coped with what she'd gone through, and he hadn't been able to do so yet. That's what he got for coming without letting her know first. But he'd felt so compelled to come here, he wondered if there was some bigger reason for him to be here. He'd just been here for two days but it felt right somehow to be here. It didn't make sense but even logical types like his military instructors had told the soldiers to trust their instincts, to listen to their intuition. So he'd stay for a while longer, until he could talk to Jenny. Until he could figure things out.
He'd always enjoyed working on the farm. He found the sheer physical labor, the ability to work outdoors and think— really think—without the constant interruption of others, satisfied him. He'd found peace working the land. Here, harvesting what Matthew had planted and nurtured, he hoped to find peace again. Maybe he'd even find a way to forgive himself here among people who were known to demonstrate it so readily toward others.