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sliding into her chair. She bowed her head for a silent prayer.
    Hannah followed suit, reaching out to pat Jamie when he started to bang his spoon on the tray. To her surprise, he actually got quiet, only to resume the pounding when the prayer ended.
    “Enough,” Hannah said. She took the spoon away. “This is for eating with. See?” She lifted a bite of dumpling with the spoon and advanced it toward his mouth.
    Jamie turned his head away, pressing his lips together.
    “Komm, now,” Aunt Paula said. “This is gut stuff.” She broke off a piece of dumpling. When he turned at the sound of her voice, she popped it into his mouth.
    His threatened wail turned into an expression of pleased surprise, and he took a fistful of dumpling and shoved it into his mouth.
    Aunt Paula chuckled. “You see? Gut, ja?”
    “Who wouldn’t like this?” Hannah took a forkful of soft dumpling and tender chicken. She had fallen into the habit of eating quickly, knowing that Jamie’s patience for a relaxed supper would be short-lived, but a meal like this deserved more attention.
    “Don’t you hurry yourself with eating,” Aunt Paula said. “Tonight I will give Jamie his bath and get him ready for bed, all right? You can have a little break.”
    “You don’t need to do that. You work so hard all week, you should—”
    “But it will give me pleasure,” Aunt Paula said, interrupting. Her eyes softened when they rested on Jamie, who seemed to be trying to see how much he could fit in his mouth at once. “It has always been a sorrow to me, having no children, knowing there would never be grandchildren to love.” She shook her head, her cheeks flushing. “You’ll think me foolish, talking like this, but having you and Jamie here . . . well, it makes me happy.”
    Hannah wiped her eyes. “You’ll have us both crying in a minute. I just wish . . .” She stopped, not sure she wanted to reveal her thoughts.
    “What?” Aunt Paula paused, spoon poised over the bowl of freshly made applesauce.
    “Do you know that Travis’s father hasn’t seen Jamie since the funeral? He was only three months old then.” She tried to keep the pain from her voice. “I know he and Travis had their differences, and Robert does live clear across the country. But you’d think he’d want more than the pictures I send. His wife passed away when Travis was a teenager, so Jamie is his only family.”
    Aunt Paula put out a hand toward Jamie, almost as if wanting to protect him. “It makes no sense to me at all. Surely the quarrel between him and his son was buried with Travis.”
    “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? Maybe it’s not that. Maybe he’s just not interested.”
    “You’ve done all you can.” Aunt Paula smiled at Jamie. “That poor man is the loser. Nobody could look at this precious boy and not love him.”
    “I think you might be prejudiced,” she teased, but the instant bond that had formed between Paula and Jamie was precious to her. She’d had nightmares sometimes, in those early months of Jamie’s life, thinking about what would become of Jamie if something happened to her.
    Jamie had family now, thanks to Aunt Paula. Hannah’s throat tightened. Paula didn’t ask anything in return for her kindness and support. But Hannah knew one thing that would make her happy, if she could bring herself to do it.
    She cleared her throat, trying to find a way to bring up the subject. “I was thinking . . . remembering, I guess. About Mammi, and the day she told me what the prayer kapp means.” She tried to smile. “I couldn’t have been much more than six or seven, sitting in the bedroom watching her fix her hair.”
    Aunt Paula nodded, eyes growing misty. “Elizabeth had beautiful hair. When she was little I’d brush it for her. I remember when she first started wearing the kapp. She was so pleased, thinking it made her look like a grown-up woman.”
    “I’m glad you have some happy memories of her,” Hannah said