Hanna's Awakening Page 2

  Ben shook away the image and placed his glass down, leaning forward to peer directly in her eyes. “What’s happened, Hanna? Are you all right?” He surveyed her face for bruises, knowing her father had a heavy hand, or at least he had with Eli. To his relief, he saw no hint of bruises, fresh or fading.

  She blinked a few times and sat her drink down. “I—I’ll be nineteen next month.”

  Nineteen. Christ Almighty. Young, innocent, and fucking Amish. Yep, not only did Ben have a one-way ticket to hell, but he had a seat reserved in the first-class section.

  “Is that a problem?” he asked, ignoring the stirring in his loins. “You turning nineteen? You getting married soon or something?” Jealously rippled through him at the possibility.

  She inhaled deeply and smiled when Lady curled up at her feet under the table.

  “My daat thinks I should have joined the church already. He’s been asking me almost every day about it.”

  “You left.” He regarded her with wonder—and respect. Most girls who didn’t want to join the Amish church would’ve done so anyway. None of them had much of a choice. It was a matter of survival. With no education beyond the eighth grade and no immediate job opportunities, leaving was a near impossibility. Yet Hanna had done just that.

  “I did,” she finally said, reaching down to scratch Lady’s ear. “I told my daat I choose not to join the church.” She shrugged. “It happened this morning and I know I’m already dead to him. Sarah even refused to say good-bye to me. She turned her back and refused to look at me, and she’s the most open-minded of them all. I didn’t bother telling Abram and Jacob good-bye. I knew they would treat me the same as Daat and Sarah.”

  “Eli came to me like this one day,” Ben said. The memory of a sixteen-year-old Amish boy came rushing back. Eli had shown up on his porch with a black eye and a swollen jaw, asking if Ben had any work for him. Against his better judgment, Ben offered Eli some work and a place to stay. It was supposed to be temporary, but he’d stayed for two years. The longer he stayed, the more Ben wanted to help him. After Eli earned his G.E.D., he left with the wages he’d painstakingly saved to find his place in the world, a young man of eighteen years.

  “Mr. Foster?” Hanna gnawed at her lip. “You’re the only friend I have. I—I was hoping you could help me the way you helped Eli. I’m not asking for charity, but I’d ask you to help me find work. I’m a hard worker. I can do most anything.”

  Ben studied her, taken aback. He had hoped she would directly ask to work for him, the way Eli had worked for him, doing chores and laboring around the cabin while Ben worked to build a series of underground storage rooms that connected to the basement, back when Ben was going through a survivalist phase.

  “Hanna, I feel uncomfortable helping you find work.”

  Her face fell. “Oh.” Her chair scratched the floor as she stood up. Tremors shook her hands, and she clamped them together as her gaze ventured near him, but not quite meeting his eyes. “I will leave you, then. I’m sorry to take up your time. Thank you for the tea.”

  “Wait. Sit back down, Hanna. I wasn’t finished speaking.”

  Slowly, she returned to her seat, sitting down with her back as stiff as a board. Lady rose up to lay her head in Hanna’s lap. The dog whimpered and stared up at her with compassionate, large black eyes.

  “I can’t in good conscience send you out into the world cold turkey. It’s a scary place out there for someone like you. People might take advantage of you, and I’d hate to see any harm come to you. Eli became like a son to me, and I’d never turn his sister out. Besides, Hanna, I consider you a friend too. I can find some work around here for you. I can even help you earn your G.E.D.” He leaned back in his chair, his decision made. “You’re staying here, Hanna. That’s final.”

  Chapter Two

  Wind chimes clattered faintly as the scent of baking bread filled the house. Hanna wiped her hands on her apron and inspected the kitchen. The floor could use a good mopping and the counters a good scrubbing. Even the walls needed to be wiped down. It pleased her to find yet another chore to occupy her time, and her mind. As she gathered the necessary supplies from a closet in the hallway, her thoughts drifted to Mr. Foster.

  Living with a man the way she was right now was downright sinful, yet she didn’t feel like she was behaving badly. Knowing he considered her a friend brought a smile to her lips. She liked him more than she’d liked most Amish. That thought caused her smile to fade. As much as she tried not to think of her daat, her brothers, Sarah, her cousins, and her little nieces and nephews, they sometimes crept into her thoughts. Even though they were only a few miles apart, she doubted she’d ever see them again, unless it was by accident. Even then, they would not speak to her, let alone look at her. Not unless she returned to the farm and decided to join the church.

  Not likely.

  A week had passed since she’d arrived at Mr. Foster’s house. Since then, he’d handed all cooking and cleaning duties over to her, not that it was a lot of work. She suspected he was indulging her and trying to find work just to make her happy and feel needed. He spent most of his time in the greenhouse out back, in a workroom next to his bedroom that contained several computers, and fishing in a nearby stream. Hanna had the distinct impression he was trying to avoid her as much as possible, but she couldn’t put her finger on why. He was nothing but kind to her, but she sensed his unease in her presence. Likewise, she felt uneasy around him, especially in the evenings when he came inside for the night. The cabin seemed much smaller then.

  “Smells good.”

  Hanna started and gasped, spinning around to meet Mr. Foster face-to-face. “You scared me!” she said, half scolding. As she fought to catch her breath, they both burst into laughter. It was the first time she’d seen him laugh since her arrival. It brought her hope. Maybe the tension between them only existed in her head.

  “I’m sorry, Hanna. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  She flashed him a smile. “It’s all right, Mr. Foster. Lunch isn’t quite ready yet. Can I fix you a snack?”

  “No, I’m fine. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

  Her stomach flipped at the sudden seriousness of his expression. “What is it?”

  “You’re still wearing your Amish clothes, even the kapp,” he said, pointing at her head. “I took Eli clothes shopping not long after he came to stay with me. I’d like to do the same for you.”

  Dumbfounded, Hanna stared at him. Was it right to accept his offer? Deep in the woods in his secluded cabin, they were alone, and while she wasn’t Amish anymore, she hadn’t thought of changing her appearance yet. Instead, finding work had been her top priority. Now that she had work and a safe place to stay, she supposed it was time to change the way she looked.

  “Thank you. That sounds nice, but please deduct the cost of clothing from my wages.” She didn’t want to be a burden. Mr. Foster had agreed to pay her monthly, a generous sum she’d argued was too much, and he promised to help her set up her own checking account soon. The idea of a trip to town to experience this rite of passage into the English world filled her with excitement.

  Mr. Foster sighed and smiled faintly. “All right. If you insist. We’ll go to town tomorrow morning, visit the mall, and go to a restaurant for lunch.”

  The mall. Lunch in a real restaurant. Hanna couldn’t believe it. She beamed at Mr. Foster. “Thank you.”

  His smile disappeared and he regarded her with contemplation. “Here. I want to try something.”

  Before Hanna realized his intentions, he reached out to touch her kapp. She forgot how to breathe as he tried pulling it off. It didn’t budge. She restrained a nervous laugh. “Mr. Foster, it’s pinned on tight. Would you like me to remove it?”

  “Yes, Hanna.” He gulped. “I want to see you.”

  The intensity of his gaze called to her heart and caused her hands to shake. Why couldn’t she breathe? And why was her heart racing so?

  Ignoring the trembli
ng of her fingers, she took the pins out of the kapp, one by one, laying them on the countertop. Once the kapp was free, she pulled it off and sat it next to the pins. She stole a glance at Mr. Foster. He appeared confused, probably because her hair hadn’t fallen down about her shoulders after losing the kapp. “More pins,” she explained, reaching up again to yank each one out. Next came the hairnet and additional pins underneath it. Fixing her hair under a kapp was her least favorite chore, and she looked forward to never doing it again. She would’ve disposed of it earlier if her hair wasn’t so long and unmanageable.

  Finally, she shook out the bun and pulled the hair tie out. Cascading down to her lower back, her hair fell in waves. Outside, the wind chimes played their summer song louder, and the curtains at the open window above the sink ruffled in the breeze. Her tresses blew around her shoulders with the draft. As she stood there, a flash of wickedness took her by surprise, a longing for Mr. Foster to run his hands through her hair. So improper. She wondered what was happening to her. Everything inside her ached to be touched.

  “I—I didn’t realize your hair was so long,” Mr. Foster said in a voice thicker than usual. His eyes, dark and intense, swept over her features. “It’s quite beautiful. You’re a beautiful girl, Hanna. Don’t ever forget that.”

  No one had ever called Hanna beautiful, and she didn’t know how to receive the compliment. She’d grown up learning how to be plain and proper. How to never draw attention to herself. Taking her kapp off and letting her hair down in front of an English man was an act that would’ve been punished severely. Now it felt wonderful, even more so because she didn’t fear her daat’s fist or cruel words, or having to shamefully confess her sin in front of the bishops.

  “It’s never been cut,” she said.

  “Do you want to cut it?”

  A choice. Mr. Foster was giving her another choice about her appearance. Careful to hide her giddiness, she nodded. “Yes. I couldn’t bear to wear it down when it’s this long, but I don’t want to put the kapp back on.”

  “We’ll get you a haircut tomorrow too. Maybe we’ll spend the whole day in town. I need supplies for the garden and some other odds and ends.”

  Hanna agreed and soon had the bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwiches Mr. Foster had requested ready. She joined him at the table and couldn’t stop thinking about tomorrow’s trip to town. During most of her previous trips to town, she hadn’t been allowed out of the buggy. In fact, she’d only been inside the Dollar General and a quilting shop. After Abram and Jacob had joined the church, her father no longer paid any mind to their travels to town. She’d envied their freedom, and she was jealous her rumspringha had been restricted to nothing more than a few buggy rides with young Amish men to church or a game of volleyball with others her age. She suspected her daat was extra strict with her since she’d been indecisive the first time he’d asked if she was ready to join the church, shortly before her seventeenth birthday. He’d thought shielding her from the English ways would prevent her leaving. Instead, she’d grown more curious over the years. More isolated within her tightknit community. Lonelier. More determined.

  “Hanna, we need to discuss the trip to town,” Mr. Foster said once he finished his lunch.

  “All right.”

  “I get odd looks when I go to town. People think I’m strange because I live out here by myself, and most everyone thinks I’m some kind of crazy survivalist with a bunker, just waiting for the government to come take my guns away.”

  Half of what Mr. Foster said didn’t make sense. She strived to understand his meaning, but her thoughts grew fuzzy. “A crazy survivalist? What do you mean?” Guns terrified her and she hoped he didn’t own one, but fear kept her from asking.

  “A weirdo,” he said. “A man who has secrets. A man who has mental problems.” He tapped at his head.

  “I’m afraid I still don’t understand.”

  “They don’t like me because I’m different.”

  “Ah. I see now.” She could certainly relate to being different. To not belonging.

  “Anyway, Hanna, if people in town find out I’m harboring a young girl who just left the Amish, it might mean trouble for us. They might think I’m taking advantage of you and keeping you here against your will. I don’t want any do-gooders nosing around in our business.”

  “How will we go to town then?” Hanna’s spirits plummeted to her feet. Would he make her wait in his truck? Or worse yet, tell her he’d changed his mind?

  “When we visit town, you’ll pretend you’re my daughter.”

  “You want me to call you Daat?”

  “No, not Daat. No Amish words. Dad or Daddy will do just fine. I’m pushing forty, so I’m old enough to be your father.” His brown eyes darkened further as he stared at her.

  “Yah. I’ll call you Daddy when we go town.”

  “Not yah. Yes. Say ‘yes, Daddy.’”

  Her face heated. “Yes, Daddy.”

  *

  Lingering awkwardly outside a women’s dressing room, Ben waited as Hanna tried on outfit after outfit. The selection had overwhelmed her, so he’d picked out a few dresses, most of them modest in style. From what he could see of her as she modeled the form-fitting clothes, she’d had a beautiful, curvy body hidden underneath those plain dresses. To fight his impending hard-on, he fled the dressing room area on the premise of finding her at least one pair of pants and some t-shirts.

  As he fumbled through a stack of jeans, he realized she probably needed underthings too. Christ. He groaned inwardly. What the hell had he gotten himself into? Ever since she’d arrived at his house a week ago, he’d been one giant walking erection.

  “Can I help you find something, sir?”

  Ben’s head shot up at the sound of a woman’s voice. A sales associate. Thank God. He stood up, glancing over his shoulder at the dressing room. “Yes, um, my daughter’s getting a whole new wardrobe for college. She might need help picking out… underthings.” Covering his mouth, he coughed uncomfortably. “You know. Panties. Bras.”

  The woman, a plump redhead with a saccharine smile, raised an eyebrow. He didn’t need to be psychic to read her thoughts. She obviously found it strange that a woman old enough to go to college was out shopping for bras and panties with her dad. Cringing, his mind raced for an explanation to offer the woman.

  He came up empty.

  “Is that her underwear size?”

  Ben held a pair of jeans in his hands, the same size as the dresses. “Yes. Think so.”

  “What about bra size, sir?”

  “Huh?”

  “What’s her bra size?”

  “Not sure. Maybe you could bring a few sizes for her to try out.”

  “Of course. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She disappeared to the other end of the store where panties and bras hung on racks.

  Ben gave himself a mental shake before calling for Hanna outside the dressing room. She appeared in front of the mirrors, head inclined as she approached him. A long, flower-patterned purple dress clung to her bosom and waist, flowing out from her hips to graze her ankles. And she definitely, most definitely, wasn’t wearing a bra. A hint of her nipples showed like tiny peaks through the fabric.

  “Wear that one to lunch.” The words escaped his mouth before he could think.

  An hour later, he carried several bags to his truck filled with dresses, jeans, a few shirts, shoes, pajamas, and unmentionables. After locking up his truck, they ventured back inside the mall to a walk-in hair salon. The hairdresser suggested Hanna donate some of her long, beautiful locks to cancer patients. Hanna readily agreed. When it was all said and done, she’d lost fourteen inches of hair, but it still swept over her shoulders in shining waves. Ben couldn’t stop staring, especially when it blew in the breeze as they exited the mall.

  “Do you like pizza?” He opened the car door, waiting for her to crawl inside.

  “Yes. I’ve had it before. Sarah made it once, but Daat and my brothers didn’t like it so she ne
ver made it again. I’ve never had it from a restaurant though.” She graced him with a smile as she hopped on the seat, smoothing out her dress.

  “Let’s go get pizza, then.” He leaned over to buckle her in, then closed her door and rounded the truck, sliding in to start the engine.

  “Mr. Foster?”

  “Yes?” From the corner of his eye, he noticed her hands twisting on her lap. He turned his body to face her, puzzled over her sudden anxiety.

  “Thank you for the job. Thank you for the room. Thank you for the clothes. I am so grateful for your help. You’re a very good man, helping me like this.”

  The urge to gather Hanna in his arms was unbearable. He wanted to hold her and promise everything would be okay. To tell her she would grow up to have a wonderful life, despite being estranged from her biological family. He ached to soothe her fears. He also ached to possess her, to teach her pleasure and keep her with him forever. To cuddle her and take care of her the way a sweet little girl like her deserved. The thought of eventually letting her go, sending her off into the cruel world he’d once escaped, filled him with angry despair.

  Though she was incredibly shy and quiet, he saw a fire burning within her. An independent streak that had been squashed by years of living under her father’s overbearing authority. He was more than glad to help her overcome it.

  As the silence loomed, Ben decided it wouldn’t hurt to show her some physical affection. He covered her hands with his. Their first skin-to-skin contact. The temperature in the truck rose ten degrees. Panic flickered briefly in her eyes, and she surveyed the parking lot, as if to make sure no one witnessed this semi-intimate moment.

  “I’m happy to help you, Hanna. You’re a good kid. You deserve the best out of life.” He grinned and gave her hands a gentle squeeze, reveling in the warmth of the touch. “Besides, I enjoy your company. Helping you is no hardship to me.”