Her Brother's Keeper Read online

  “Isaac.” She stopped milking when he walked into the barn. “You’re not here to drop off more money already, surely. What are you doing here?” She noticed he was carrying a paper bag with handles.

  “Mamm said your mother left some serving pieces and a dish at Sisters’ Day, so I’m just returning them.” He lifted the bag and smiled. “I saw you walk into the barn, so I wondered if this might be milking time.”

  Hannah pushed back sweaty strands of hair that had fallen forward and eased her legs closer together since she’d been straddling the milking bucket. “Danki. Mamm is napping, but Mary should be inside.” Although, she naps a lot too. “Do, um . . . do you want me to go get Mary?”

  Isaac shook his head. “Nee, nee. I just came to drop these off.” He set the bag on the workbench, then pointed at the second opening in the stanchion. “Do you want me to help you?”

  Hannah kept alternating her hands on the teats. “I’m sure you have plenty to do at your haus.” It went so much faster with two people, though. Hannah always offered to help her mother, but Mamm loved her babies and enjoyed milking each one of them. Her mother must be feeling really bad to ask Hannah to do this.

  Isaac picked up the other milking stool and set it in front of the second stanchion. “I don’t mind.”

  Hannah paused, reached for the other bucket, and handed it to him, deciding to accept his offer. “It’s not like milking cows, you know.” She resumed with Lucy while Isaac slipped a lead over one of the other goats and escorted her to the stanchion. “That’s Greta. Watch out for her. She lifts her leg and tries to kick, even with her head secured.”

  Isaac sat down, his leg brushing against hers as he straddled the bucket. Hannah swallowed hard as her heartbeat sped up. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go find Mary?”

  Isaac shook his head as he reached for Greta’s teats. “What’s different about milking goats?” He chuckled. “I’ve only ever milked a cow.”

  “It takes a lot more strength in your arms. Even though a cow produces more milk from twice as many teats, a goat’s are much tougher, and . . .”

  Hannah glanced at Isaac when she heard the first splatters of milk hitting the tin bucket. He just smiled.

  “I think I got it.”

  “Ya, you do,” she said almost in a whisper, instantly fearful that her voice might have sounded a bit suggestive, which surely hadn’t been the intent. “I think it’s so gut that you are starting to date. Mary is a lovely person.”

  “Isn’t she going home soon?” Isaac didn’t look up or stop milking, but Hannah did.

  “Isn’t that a strange thing to say about the woman you are seeing?” Hannah said, turning to face him.

  Isaac also stopped milking. “It’s not like we’re really dating. Just friends.”

  “I’m not understanding.” She resumed her milking, shaking her head.

  “She’s the one who asked me out first, and I know she is going home soon. I was just being nice while she’s here and also trying not to hurt her feelings. But I’m probably going to have to cancel Saturday’s picnic.”

  “Why?” Hannah hoped her relief wasn’t obvious.

  Isaac sighed as he filled his pail twice as fast as Hannah’s. “It’s mei daed. Mamm and I have been trying to do things differently lately. I think the Englisch call it ‘tough love.’ We’ve been trying to get him to do more for himself and not depend on me and Mamm so much.”

  “That’s a gut thing, though.” Hannah’s forearms were getting sore.

  “I know. And I was going to start working on the daadi haus.” He turned to Hannah and smiled. “In case I want to get married someday, they’ll have a place to live and still be close by.”

  Hannah felt herself blushing as she avoided Isaac’s eyes. “That also sounds like a gut idea.”

  “But now, I don’t know when I’ll be able to.” He stopped filling the pail, pushed back the rim of his straw hat, and looked at Hannah. “There is something really wrong with mei daed.”

  Isaac told Hannah a bizarre story about his daed’s to-do list.

  “The only reason I’m here right now is because Mamm’s sister, mei Aenti Rebecca, and her two kinner are here for a visit today from just north of Pittsburgh. If not, I wouldn’t feel gut leaving Mamm alone with Daed.” Isaac stood up, his pail full, then motioned for Hannah to get up. “Let me finish that for you.”

  “Danki.” Hannah stood up and stepped aside as Isaac’s large hands took over the task. “You don’t really think he would . . . hurt your mamm, do you?”

  “They’ve taken to arguing a lot, but I would never have thought so.” He paused and looked up at Hannah. “Maybe he’s ab im kopp?”

  “Ach, maybe. To write what he did on that list sounds off in the head to me. Did you show your mudder what he wrote?”

  “Nee, but I told her.” Isaac blew out a long breath. “At first, she slapped a hand to her chest and her eyes got big. But a few seconds later, she burst out laughing and said I was silly to worry.” He handed Hannah the full pail and stood up. “What do you think?”

  “I don’t know.” She felt herself blush again. “Maybe ask Mary. She didn’t become Amish until she was older. She is more worldly than us about some things.”

  Isaac took a step closer to Hannah, enough so that she was aware of the onions she’d had earlier on a sandwich. “I’d rather know what you think,” he said in a whisper as Hannah gazed into his eyes.

  They both turned toward the barn door when they heard it being pushed open.

  “Hey, you two. What are y’all up to out here?”

  Hannah picked up the other pail full of milk and started toward the door without looking at Isaac or Mary. “Isaac brought back some things Mamm left at Sisters’ Day. They are on the workbench. Can you grab them, Mary, when you come in?”

  “Sure.”

  Hannah squeezed through the partially open barn door, sloshing milk as she hurried across the yard toward the house.

  She wasn’t sure what had just happened, but she realized that another day had slipped by without her thinking about Ethan, and guilt wrapped around her like a jacket that was too small. Was she growing out of her grief? Was it time to move on? What about Mary? She put the two small pails in the reserved area of the refrigerator before she rushed back to the barn, hoping that she could make up for any thoughts that God might not approve of. She burst through the door, halfway expecting to see Mary and Isaac in an embrace, but they were standing at least ten feet away from each other. They both turned to Hannah.

  “I was just telling Mary why I can’t go on our picnic.” Isaac smiled, and even though both Isaac and Mary insisted they were just friends, Hannah needed to clear her conscience.

  “Nee, don’t cancel. That’s why I came back. I will stay with your mother while you go on your picnic. You don’t have to tell her. I’ll just show up for a visit, and that way you won’t have to worry about her.”

  Hannah held her breath as Mary and Isaac exchanged looks.

  But Isaac finally said, “Ya, okay.”

  Somewhere in the back of Hannah’s mind, she’d hoped he wouldn’t accept her offer. But since he had, all she wanted now was a sense of peace about the entire situation.

  She didn’t have it. How could she move forward when something so tragic had happened to Ethan? Her cousin was dating Isaac, friends or more than friends, she wasn’t sure, but still.

  She walked to the house and as she came inside, she heard her mother vomiting again in the bathroom. Hannah hurried to her, putting her own worries aside.

  Eleven

  Isaac hoped he didn’t look as bor
ed as he was. He’d gotten word to Hannah that his aenti had extended her stay, so it wouldn’t be necessary for Hannah to visit his mother today. He couldn’t constantly be with his mother, but for today, it gave him comfort to know she wasn’t alone. He was trying to decide whether or not to talk to his aunt about his fears.

  After he and Mary ate at the same park as before, she rambled on about her favorite books, none of which Isaac had heard of, a few movies she’d seen, and about space and something called a geomagnetic storm. Isaac didn’t understand half of what she was talking about. It didn’t matter, he was lost in thoughts about Hannah.

  Then, out of the clear blue, she wanted to talk about Ethan, a man she hadn’t even met. At least that was something he could comment on. But he wanted to be careful how much he said.

  “Ya, I knew Ethan. Not real gut, but I knew him.”

  “Before I turned Amish, I had a hard life, but I still couldn’t imagine taking my own life.”

  Turned Amish? Mary talked funny sometimes, but he knew why, so he tried to overlook it.

  Mary blinked her eyes a few times, and Isaac thought she might start crying, which seemed odd. “Do you think people who commit suicide go to heaven?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “If he was going to marry Hannah, he must have been a good man. Surely he is in heaven now.” Mary’s voice cracked. She must have known someone who had taken his or her own life.

  Isaac had plenty of thoughts about Ethan, but it wasn’t his place to discuss any of them with Mary. “I would like to think he is.” Isaac avoided her eyes as guilt nipped at him. Once again, he wondered if he should have reached out to Ethan when he suspected that the man was going through a hard time. “A believer’s sins are forgiven at the moment of salvation, so as a child of God, I think all of our sins are forgiven.”

  “Technically, suicide is murder. Do murderers go to heaven?”

  Mary seemed stuck on this subject, and she talked for a few more minutes before Isaac had a chance to say anything.

  “ ‘For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.’ ” Isaac hoped that would end the conversation about Ethan.

  “That’s beautiful.”

  Isaac sat there, waiting for her to say more. It almost sounded like she didn’t realize it was Scripture. “Ya,” he said softly.

  “Well, I’m going to choose to believe that good people, who love and know Jesus as God’s Son, go to heaven.” Mary stared at Isaac, and he braced himself for more talk about death. “Have you ever known anyone who got shunned?”

  Isaac just stared back at her for a few seconds, wondering how they’d gone from suicide to shunning. “Uh, ya. Of course. Meidung.”

  “Why were they shunned?” Mary cupped her chin in her hand.

  “For, uh . . . for marrying outside of the faith.”

  She nodded. Isaac wished they could land on a subject of interest to both of them, but she’d already made clear her thoughts about farming, cooking, and most things their people loved. “What made you choose to be Amish?” he said.

  “Well . . .”

  Isaac listened with a heavy heart as Mary told him about her troubled childhood. He felt badly for her. But when she got to the part about moving in with her great-aunt and uncle, it was almost like she was making it up as she went along. There was an air of falseness in her words, like when she talked about the washing machine flooding the garage and how she had to unplug it, which led to her getting shocked. Why were her Amish aunt and uncle using electricity?

  Isaac’s thoughts drifted to Hannah. Mary must have sensed that he was losing interest in the conversation because she stopped midsentence. But then Isaac heard a child screaming, and he realized that was what Mary was focused on.

  They both looked toward the playground. The area was empty except for a mother who was spanking her toddler as the child wailed.

  “She’s spanking that boy too hard,” Mary said, not taking her eyes off of the woman, her voice steady.

  Isaac recalled his fair share of spankings with his father’s belt, some even left welts for days. “I wonder what he did.” Isaac stood up.

  Mary glanced at Isaac, then back at the woman who continued to hit her child on the back of his legs and behind. “It doesn’t matter what he did. He couldn’t be older than three or four.” She took off in their direction, and Isaac reluctantly followed. This wasn’t their business.

  Mary slowed her pace as she got closer to the woman. The Englisch woman had stopped hitting the boy, but Isaac cringed when he saw the red welts on the boy’s bare legs. Mary pulled a tissue out of her apron pocket and casually tossed it into a nearby trash bin, as if that had been her plan from the beginning. Then she turned around and both she and Isaac headed back to the area where they were having their picnic. But the child began to wail again, and Mary did an about-face. She hurried to the woman, although Isaac held back a few steps.

  “Ma’am, I don’t want to get in your business, but I feel like you might be spanking that child too hard.” Mary spoke in a gentle voice as she pointed to the boy’s bare legs. Isaac noticed the red welts below the child’s short pants. But he was surprised that Mary was getting involved since this wasn’t their way.

  The large woman with dark eyes scowled and spat, “This is my child, and I’m disciplining him for being disobedient. And you’re right . . . it’s not your business.”

  Mary took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and said, “I understand that you are trying to teach him, but you’re hitting him too hard.”

  The boy was still crying and clung to his mother’s leg as she placed her hand on his head. “You are scaring my son,” the woman said. “Go away, please.”

  Isaac was familiar with how hard it was to walk away, to turn the other cheek. “Mary, let’s go,” he said, gently tugging on her arm.

  “Listen to your boyfriend, and get out of here.” She grabbed her son’s arm, pulling him so hard that he fell down and started to cry again. “Shut up,” she said as she gave him another pop on the back of his legs. “See what you caused?”

  Mary looked up at Isaac, her eyes filling with tears. “I’m sorry.” She hurried to catch up to the woman, and before she reached her, she said in a loud voice, “He will remember this, you know. Your son. He will remember what you’re doing to him.”

  Isaac followed her, shaking his head, asking the Lord to forgive them both for what he feared might be coming. But when Mary swiped at a tear rolling down her cheek, Isaac suspected this might have more to do with her own childhood than anything else.

  The woman pried her crying child from her leg and walked up to Mary, pointing a finger in her face. Opening her mouth to say something, the woman stopped, looked back at her son, then at Mary. The woman fisted both her hands, and Isaac was sure that she was about to punch Mary. He wouldn’t let that happen. But suddenly, the woman dropped her hands to her sides and stared at Mary. Seconds later, the woman shoved Mary so hard that she tumbled backward, catching herself with her hands.

  “Stupid Amish woman.”

  Isaac stepped in between them, but before he or Mary could say anything, the woman walked back to where her child was standing. Isaac helped Mary up, but he had to grab her arm when she started to bolt after the woman.

  “Nee, nee, Mary. Let her go.” He kept his hand on her arm until the woman put her son in her car and they started out of the parking lot. “Your hands are bleeding,” he said, releasing his hold and noticing her bloody palms. She’d skid her hands across some gravel when she fell.

  “She’ll hit him again unless she gets some counseling.” Mary kept her eyes on the car until it was out of sight. “Or he’ll get big enough to fight back.” Isaac used his handkerchief to gently dab at the nasty scrapes on Mary’s hands. She cringed but didn’t pull away.

  Isaac wondered what Mary would have done if he hadn’t held her back. “She’s a cowardly woman. She
knew you wouldn’t fight back.” Isaac grinned. “At least she didn’t think you would.” He took another look at Mary’s hands after he’d cleared off the gravel that was stuck to them, then gave her his handkerchief. “We need to get you home so you can properly tend these wounds.”

  Mary clasped the rag between her palms. He caught her wincing several times. They were halfway home before Mary spoke again.

  “Isaac, I’m not going to be in Paradise much longer, so I need to speak freely about something.” She glanced at her hands and cringed again before she went on. “So, here goes. We both know that while some people might consider what we’re doing as dating, I think we both realize that there is nothing romantic going on here.”

  Isaac’s pulse picked up. He’d never known anyone quite like Mary—someone so forthright with her feelings. He took off his hat and put it in his lap, then scratched behind his ear, wondering where she was going with this.

  “You need to ask Hannah out. Anyone can see the way you two look at each other. She doesn’t think she’s ready, but she is. And I’m going to tell her the same thing.” Mary raised an eyebrow as if she was waiting for Isaac to respond, but he had no idea what to say.

  “But . . .” She held up a finger. “I need something from you, and I’m running out of time.” She looked up at the sky and closed her eyes. Isaac wondered if she was praying. “I want you to tell me about Ethan. I know you know something. Did his killing himself have anything to do with Edna Glick? If Hannah is going to move on, she needs to know what happened.”

  Isaac realized he was holding his breath, but this was the last thing he ever predicted Mary would ask. She carefully reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out a picture. She handed it to him, and once he’d studied the front, she turned it over in his hand.