Hannah's Joy by Marta Perry Page B

besides doing his work in the machine shop.
    It wasn’t unusual these days for a man with a family to support to be working at more than one job. Myra had said Samuel and his family would be over for supper as well. It would be nice to get a glimpse of their little son.
    William came to a stop short of the hitching post, making the horse turn its head, as if to ask what he was doing. That elderly black car belonged to Paula Schatz. It looked as if he had the answer to where Hannah and Jamie were spending their Sunday afternoon.
    Clucking to the horse to step up, he jumped down and went to tend the animal while questions buzzed around in his head. Was this a coincidence, Myra inviting him when she had Hannah here? Maybe. Or maybe she thought that since he and Hannah were working together, it would be a kindness. Either way, he wasn’t sure it was a good idea.
    Joseph was in the backyard at the charcoal grill, holding his palm out to check the temperature, it seemed. He glanced at William and grinned.
    “Myra keeps asking me if the grill is ready yet. She’s afraid it won’t be hot in time to cook the burgers and sausages, and she’s determined not to carry the other stuff out until it is.”
    “L-looks like it’s c-coming along fine.” The coals weren’t white yet, he guessed, but they soon would be. “I s-see you have other c-company.” He nodded toward the car.
    “Ja, Myra got to know Hannah at the work day yesterday. It turns out they are relatives of some sort through Hannah’s father, so Myra wants to be sure Hannah feels welcome here.”
    “The Z-Z-Zercher family, that w-would be.” William ran his thoughts back over the tangle of family trees in Pleasant Valley. Sometimes he thought it must be hard to live here if you weren’t related to somebody or other.
    “That’s it.” Joseph rearranged the coals with a long fork. “Myra has the family Bible out, showing her. I told them best to keep the little ones inside for now. I don’t want anybody getting too close to the grill.”
    Joseph was a careful father to his little girls, gentle but firm. The kind of daadi William would like to be, if he ever had the chance.
    The screen door on the back porch swung open, and Myra leaned out. “William, I’m glad you’re here. Wilkom. Joseph, is the fire ready yet? I see Samuel and Anna and the kinder walking over.”
    Sure enough, Samuel and his family were skirting the paddock on their way, with Samuel carrying an infant seat. The single horse in the paddock tossed his head and then trotted along beside them. It looked like little Gracie was talking to the animal.
    In minutes, everyone was clustering in the backyard, the other women helping Myra carry food out to the picnic table, while Samuel tried to corral the young ones a safe distance from the grill. William went to help just in time to intercept Jamie making a wobbly run toward it.
    “Whoa, l-little Jamie.” He lifted the boy in his arms, loving the instant grin that showed the dimples in Jamie’s cheeks. “No r-running to the fire. Hot,” he said with emphasis. He pointed to the grill. “Hot,” he said again.
    Jamie wiggled his fingers, his brown eyes round. Obviously he’d heard that word before, what with the bakery ovens heated much of the time.
    Carrying Jamie, William walked around the end of the picnic table to where Samuel was spreading out a blanket on the other side. Samuel upended a basket of toys, and the little girls dived in, giggling. William plopped Jamie down in the middle of them.
    “S-so this is your l-little one.” He smiled down at the small bundle. Samuel and Anna’s little boy slept intently, his tiny hand against his cheek.
    “Six weeks old today,” Samuel said, beaming as only a new father could. “This is our David.”
    “A g-gut baby, f-for sure.”
    “Ja, for sure. Eats gut, sleeps, cries.” Samuel grinned, nodding toward Gracie, who was cradling a baby doll. “Gracie wants him to stay awake longer, I think.