A Son's Vow (16 page)

She was old enough to know better, old enough to fear consequences of their actions. Yet young enough not to care.

Lukas's kiss was sweet and perfect and everything she'd once hoped it would be.

And then, all too soon, it was over.

After pulling away, he bent down and retrieved his flashlight. “I had better get you home,” he said after a pause.

“Jah.”

“You want to marry me yet?”

“After one kiss in a field?
Nee
.”

He sighed. “At least I didn't bite you.”

“At least there's that, ferret-mouth.”

When he reached out and took hold of her hand, she clasped it. And couldn't help but think that Lukas Kinsinger had been right yet again.

He had learned an awful lot in the past fifteen years.

April 12

H
annah, are ya leaving for work already?” her mother called from down the hall.

After carefully spreading mayonnaise on her bread, Hannah added two slices of smoked turkey, a slice of Swiss, and a piece of crisp lettuce on top, then neatly sliced it. “
Jah
, Mamm. You know how Mr. and Mrs. Ross don't like me to be late.”

“Well, I know how you like to get over there early,” her mother reproved as she appeared. “I haven't had the pleasure of meeting your Englisher bosses yet.”

Hannah shook her head. “I've said that you can always walk over to their
haus
any morning you like. They wouldn't mind.”

“That doesn't seem quite proper. I wouldn't want to make them uncomfortable.”

“They won't be. They're simply Mr. and Mrs. Ross, Mamm. They're nice.” Actually, they were simply York and Melissa now,
though she wouldn't tell her mother that. Her mother liked her to show respect to the people who paid her money.

After slipping an apple in her lunch sack, she eyed the clock hanging above the window that held her mother's herb garden. “Now, I'd best get going.”

As always, her lovely mother eyed her with sweet compassion and just a little too closely. “Hannah, maybe you should tell them that you need some time off soon.”

“Why? You know I am making good money there.”

“I do know. But I fear you are working too hard. You have no time for anything but work now.”

“That isn't true. I am helping out at home with my chores just like always.”

“I'm not talking about chores,” she gently corrected. “Dear, I'm startin' to worry that you have thrown yourself into your work for those Englishers with a bit too much enthusiasm. Is that the case?”

This was the first time her mother had ever said a cross word about her work. It took Hannah by surprise, though perhaps she shouldn't have been shocked. After all, they were a close family, and ever since the fire, Hannah had been pulling away from them.

Not intentionally, of course. She'd simply been trying to find some solace in her life. And she'd found that sense of peace away from her mother's constant fretting, her father's worried eyes, and the group of letters locked in a box under her bed. Paul had so enjoyed writing her short, sweet, silly notes.

Her need to immerse herself in different surroundings must not have escaped her mother's notice.

“I'm fine, Mamm. Mr. and Mrs. Ross are simply busy. They need me and I like being needed.”

“We need you here, too.”

“For what?”

Her mother blinked. “For everything. For you to be part of this family. Your sister and brother are missing ya.”

Her brother, Calvin, was sixteen and Malinda was seventeen. Both were in the midst of their
rumspringa
and busy with their friends. In addition, Calvin had just gotten a job at Kinsinger's in the mail room. He loved his new job and being around the older men. And Malinda? Well, Malinda was always either sewing for some Amish families or giggling with her girlfriends. Neither of them was fretting about their older sister's absence. Hannah knew that for a fact.

But telling her mother that was another story. As she contemplated how to best alleviate her mother's worries, Hannah fidgeted with the seam of her raspberry-colored apron.

Oh, but she really needed to leave!

Still eyeing her closely, her mother placed a hand on one of her hips, a sure sign she was peeved. “Hannah, do you not have anything more to say?”

“I'm sorry, Mamm, but I really need to get going.”

“Oh, you. Work isna going to make Paul come back.”

Hannah winced. “I know that.” Nothing was going to make him come back. Not even spending time at his grave or rereading his letters or staying by her mother's side. She edged toward the door.

Her mother noticed and moved closer. “Dear, maybe you should speak with Eli again.”

“I don't need to be counseled, Mamm. I simply like working for the Ross family. I enjoy taking care of Christopher. Please don't invent things to worry about. I am fine.”

“All right. Do you have your lunch?”

She held up her lunch kit. “I do.”

“Is that enough?”

“There's always food there. Mrs. Ross usually leaves me something to eat.”

“
Jah
, but is it any good?”

“It is wonderful. She's a good cook.” As a bit of dismay flashed in her mother's eyes, Hannah reached out and gave her mother a hug. “I love you, Mamm. Please don't worry about me.”

She held her tightly. “I can't help it. I miss you and love you.”

“I miss you, too, but I'm growing up. It's time I find my own way.”

“I know.” But the expression in her mother's eyes told a different story. Hannah could practically feel her disappointment.

After grabbing a yellow cardigan, she slipped it on, picked up her canvas tote bag, and hurried off to the Ross house.

She'd just passed the market and the notion store when she heard Aaron Kurtz call out her name.

“
Jah,
Aaron?” she asked, barely containing her impatience.

He jogged closer. “
Danke
. I didn't think you were going to stop.”

“I must get to work.” She was only about five minutes away. If she hurried, she would arrive a good fifteen minutes early, which meant she could visit with Mrs. Ross and hear about her latest book club party.

“You're still working?” Before she could answer, he shrugged. “Well, that's all right. I'll walk with you.”

She didn't want to walk with him. And though the right thing to do would be to let him have his say, she was frankly tired of his anger. “I'd rather we didn't walk together.”

“Why? No one will think anything of it. I'm engaged, you know.”

Hannah knew that. Besides, she and Aaron couldn't have been a worse match. No one who knew her would think that she'd ever harbor special feelings for him.

But instead of sharing that, she remained where she was. “If it's important, we can talk right here. Was there something you needed?”

“You mean besides my father?”

There he went again. Dwelling on his loss and bringing it up at every opportunity.

Furthermore, she didn't like how he seemed to think they were friends now. They'd never been close. Paul had never especially cared for him. And she? Well, Aaron Kurtz was everything she
didn't
like in a man.

All of that was why, she supposed, her temper snapped. “Oh, for heaven's sake, Aaron.
Shtobb.
”

A muscle in his cheek twitched. “Stop what?” he asked bitterly. “Stop caring? Stop questioning? Stop grieving?”

“Yes. Stop everything. Stop bringing up your pain and sorrow to me all the time,” she blurted, not even attempting to watch her words or her tone. “You are sounding like . . . like a petulant child. I am tired of hearing about it.”

His fists clenched at his sides as he inhaled sharply.

Suddenly, Hannah didn't think he looked weak and pitiful. Instead, there was a new glare in his eyes. He looked dangerous and more than a bit frightening. She was tempted to step away.

Reminding herself that she had nothing to fear from him, she said, “Aaron, though I, too, lost someone I loved in the fire, that is where our similarities end. I don't wish to keep talking about the fire or listening to your suspicions.”

“They are not suspicions,” he bit out. “The Kinsingers should have checked the Dumpsters more regularly. You know that. I know that,” he continued, his voice rising with every word. “Hannah, they should never have allowed that Dumpster next to the warehouse. Furthermore—”

He was causing a scene. More than one person was staring at them. Listening. Worse, he was making her feel nervous and anxious. And making her even later for work. “Stop! You're yelling at me and I don't care for it. Now, I must go—”

He reached out and gripped her upper arm. “Do not walk away from me.”

“Aaron, we have nothing to speak of. Let go.” She jerked her arm, but instead of releasing it, he dug in his fingers. And pulled.

She stumbled, attempting to keep her balance. Shocked by the way he was holding her, she slapped at his hand. “You are hurting me. Stop.”

“Stop? That seems to be all you can say.”

She was becoming frightened. “I canna help you, Aaron,” she said in an effort to find a way for him to see reason. “Making me stand here and listen to you isn't going to change my mind. Instead, all you are going to do is make me want to avoid you.”

“You'll listen. I'll make sure of it.”

“I don't know how. Now, let—”

His slap across her face halted the rest of her words.

She cried out in pain, just as a voice in the distance called her name. “Hannah!”

Instantly, Aaron released her. Shaking, she pressed her hands to her cheeks and tried to catch her breath.

Then she became aware that Rob had been the one to come to her rescue. The expression on Rob's face was one she'd never seen before. He literally looked like he was about to grab Aaron and hit him. Rose, standing by his side, looked fierce, too. Her muscles looked ready to spring and a thin line of fur was standing up along the middle of her back.

But instead of being cowed by Rob, Aaron scowled. “Move on, man. This ain't no business—”

“This
is
my business.
She
is my business,” Rob said.

At last Aaron stepped away.

The relief that Rob was by her side was so welcoming, Hannah felt tears spring to her eyes.

“Hannah,” Rob murmured, “are you all right?”

“I am fine.” She was about to add more when Rose sidled up next to her and leaned close. Before Hannah knew what she was about, she got down on her knees and hugged the dog's neck.

Rose responded with a wet lick.

As she attempted to get her bearings again, she heard Rob speak, each word cold and spoken with such clipped force it sounded as if he was struggling not to lose his temper.

“You listen to me, and listen well. You do not go near this girl again. You do not touch her. If you do, I will find you.”

“And do what?” Aaron taunted.

“I'll make sure you hurt as much as she does,” Rob replied, his expression completely serious. “I don't care who you are or what you are—Amish or English or French—if you hurt her again, I will retaliate. Hannah has me looking out for her now.”

Aaron spit on the ground, his posture all bluster. “Is this
why you didn't want me walking with ya, Hannah? Because you've already found a new man?”

She didn't say a word. Though it was cowardly, she simply just wanted him to go away.

“Now I understand why you don't care about Paul or what I've discovered about the accident. You've already moved on,” Aaron called out loudly over his shoulder. Loud enough for everyone on the street to hear. Loud enough for Hannah to wince in shame.

Ignoring Aaron's last outburst, Rob crouched down by her side. “Hannah, honey, he left. Can you get back on your feet? Will you be okay to walk? Or would you rather I carry you?”

After wiping her eyes and taking a fortifying breath, Hannah climbed back to her feet.

“Easy, now.” Rob grasped her elbow to steady her.

His touch felt comforting but she needed to show both him and herself that she was okay. “I'm all right,” she said. “I can walk.” She tried to smile but she feared it was as unsteady as her voice. “I, uh, was just shaken up.”

“I can imagine.” His expression was hard as his eyes skimmed over her. “Were you on your way to work?” When she nodded, he carefully placed a hand on the small of her back. “Come on, then. Let's get you to the Rosses'. We'll talk there, where there's some privacy. And put some ice on your cheek.”

Conscious of the fact that at least a dozen people were staring at her, she nodded. She did need to get off the street and somewhere private. She was so rattled and confused.

Rose seemed to understand that Hannah needed her support because as they walked along, the big dog kept looking at her with what she was sure was a worried expression.

When they at last turned on Plum Street, Rob spoke again. “I can't tell you how freaked out I was when I saw that guy grab you.” After a pause, he added, “And I don't think I'll ever be able to tell you how I felt when I saw him strike you.”

“I'm glad you were there.” Belatedly, she realized that she hadn't even thanked him. “Thank you for coming to my rescue.”

“Don't ever thank me for that. I'm just glad I was there.” Looking at her closely, he added, “More than that, I wish it had never happened.”

“Me, too.” When they got to the Rosses' driveway, she pulled away from his reassuring hand and attempted to look more put together than she felt. “Well, thank you again. I'd best get inside and see to Christopher.”

“Not so fast,” he murmured. Instead of turning away, he walked her right up to the front door and knocked twice.

Melissa opened the door. She blinked when she saw Hannah standing beside Rob. “Good morning. Hannah, do you have an escort now?” she teased.

Hannah tried to smile, she really did. But instead of smiling, she felt her lip tremble.

At once, Melissa's happy expression turned concerned. Then horrified. “Oh my gosh! Hannah, honey, your cheek is swollen and I think you have the beginnings of a black eye. What happened?”

Her question brought forth York, who was holding a squirming Christopher. “Hannah? Hannah, why is your cheek bright red?”

Her eyes filled with tears. “Um . . . well, I . . .”

Rob wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “She's had a tough morning. I was taking Rose for a walk when I saw some
guy not only grab Hannah's arm and yank her, but he slapped her face, too. She's hurt.”