Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
T he air in the house felt different after Hannah’s confession. The heavy burden the girl had been carrying for weeks—maybe months—hung in the corners of every room, pressing in on Maddie.
As much as she wanted to, it wasn’t something she could share with Becca. It just didn’t feel right, even now that they were talking again. Hannah deserved her privacy.
But as Maddie moved through the house the next day, tending to Schatzi, she couldn’t stop thinking about Hannah and the sheer weight of the words she’d spoken: I’m pregnant. I don’t know what to do.
The gravity of it all gnawed at Maddie. She had promised Hannah they’d figure it out together, but the truth was, Maddie didn’t know where to begin. How could she help this girl, so young and terrified, navigate something so life-altering when Maddie herself still struggled to navigate her own grief?
Also life-altering, but not in the way bringing a child into the world was.
She stood at the kitchen sink, her hands resting on the edge of the basin over the warm dishwater, staring out the frosty window as the snow continued to flutter down. The world outside was a serene white, but inside her mind, it was anything but calm.
Ernie padded over, his soft fur brushing against Maddie’s ankles as he meowed for attention. She smiled faintly, drying her hands and reaching down to scratch behind his ears. The soft purring of the cat was comforting, but her thoughts were miles away.
“How’s that lunch coming along?” Schatzi’s voice broke the quiet, pulling Maddie back to the present.
“It’s coming,” Maddie said absently, turning to glance at her aunt. Schatzi was still in her armchair, a blanket draped over her legs and her arm resting in the sling, looking more restless than usual.
Maddie left the dishes and checked on the reheating soup. It was just starting to simmer at the edges. She smiled at her aunt. “Shouldn’t be but a few more minutes.”
Schatzi tilted her head, her sharp blue eyes narrowing. “You’ve been acting strange all morning. What’s on your mind? And don’t say nothing because I know better.”
Maddie hesitated, chewing her bottom lip as she came out to the living room. Schatzi could always read her so easily, as though her emotions were written across her face in bold letters. Maddie wasn’t sure how much she should tell Schatzi about Hannah’s situation, but the weight of it was too heavy to carry alone.
She had to tell Schatzi. Especially if Hannah decided she needed a place to stay.
Maddie crossed the room and sat on the edge of the sofa across from Schatzi. “It’s about Hannah,” she began, her voice soft but steady.
Schatzi raised her eyebrows, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Go on.”
Maddie took a deep breath, folding her hands in her lap. “She told me something yesterday. Something big and secret, but she confided in me. I’m only sharing because I know you’ll keep it a secret and because I think you need to know. She’s pregnant, Schatzi. And she’s scared. She doesn’t know how to tell her dad, and...she doesn’t know what to do.”
Schatzi’s expression relaxed immediately, and she let out a long sigh, her eyes glazing with a mix of sadness and understanding. “Poor girl,” she murmured, shaking her head slowly. “I knew something was troubling her, but I didn’t think...”
“Neither did I,” Maddie admitted. “She’s so young, Schatzi. I don’t think she even understands the enormity of what’s happening. And I’m worried about her. Her dad’s barely around, and when he is, she says he’s angry all the time.”
Schatzi was quiet briefly, her brow furrowed in thought. She shifted in her chair, grimacing slightly as she adjusted her arm in the sling. “What does she plan to do?”
Maddie shook her head, feeling the weight of the unknown settle in her chest. “She doesn’t know. She hasn’t even told her dad yet. I offered to let her stay here if she needs to—I hope that was okay?—”
“It was fine,” Schatzi reassured her.
“Good. But I’m not sure how we can help her, not really.”
Schatzi’s eyes softened, and she reached out with her good hand to rest it on Maddie’s. “You did the right thing, Maddie. Offering her a safe place was the first step. That’s what she needs most right now. Someone to show her she’s not alone.”
“But what about after?” Maddie asked, her voice low. “What happens if her dad can’t—or won’t—help her? What if she?—”
“She’ll have us.” Schatzi’s gaze held Maddie’s for a long while before she spoke, her tone firm but kind. “We’ll be here for her.”
The certainty in Schatzi’s words brought a small wave of relief, but the enormity of the situation still loomed large. How could they take care of Hannah and the baby on top of everything else?
Most days, Maddie was barely keeping her head above water herself. Between caring for Schatzi, managing the house, doing the cooking and the laundry and trying to heal from her own grief, she felt stretched thin.
Schatzi must have sensed her worry because she squeezed Maddie’s hand gently. “We’ll figure it out, Maddie. One step at a time. We can’t solve everything today, but we can give Hannah what she needs right now—kindness, a roof over her head, a little hope, and a safe place to land.”
Maddie nodded, grateful for Schatzi’s steady presence and generous heart, though her mind was still racing. Of course, they’d figure this out, but the uncertainty gnawed at her.
Just then, the sound of boots on the snow outside reached their ears, followed by a loud bark. Maddie’s heart lightened as she glanced out the window to see Sam and Fargo making their way up the path, the familiar sight of the chocolate Lab bounding through the snow bringing a faint smile to her lips.
“I’ll get the door,” Maddie said, standing and heading toward the front entrance. The cold air hit her as she opened the door, and Fargo immediately rushed in, wagging his tail and leaving a little trail of snow as he trotted toward Schatzi’s chair.
Sam followed, brushing the snow from his coat with one hand, his face bright from the cold. His other arm cradled a pile of split logs. “Afternoon,” he said, his deep voice warm as he smiled at Maddie. “Brought some firewood. Thought you ladies might need it with this snow coming in.”
Maddie smiled, grateful once again for his thoughtfulness. “You read our minds. We’ve gotten a little low. I was just thinking I should head out and get some so I didn’t have to bother you.”
“It’s never a bother.” As Sam set the firewood by the hearth, Fargo settled in front of the fire, his large body sprawling out comfortably like he was exactly where he wanted to be.
Schatzi chuckled at the dog before she looked at Sam. “You spoil us,” she said to Sam, though her voice was light. “Between you and Maddie, I hardly have to lift a finger anymore.”
Sam grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Good. That’s the point. I’m going back out for another load. Should be enough to get you through to tomorrow.”
He returned quickly, stomping his boots off on the porch as Maddie got the door. His arms were twice as full as they’d been the first time.
Maddie closed the door behind him and walked with him to the living room where she watched Sam with quiet appreciation. He had become a constant in their lives, always showing up when they needed him, always knowing just what to say to keep things from feeling too overwhelming. She found herself relying on his presence more than she cared to admit.
It had been a while since a man had had that kind of place in her life. It was a curious feeling to have one occupying it again.
As Sam stacked the firewood near the hearth, Maddie debated whether to bring up Hannah’s situation. She trusted Sam, but this wasn’t her secret to tell. Yet something about his calm, steady demeanor made her think he might be able to help in ways she couldn’t.
“Sam,” Maddie began, her voice tentative. “I need to talk to you about something...personal.”
Sam paused, straightening up and brushing the wood dust from his hands. He turned to face her, his expression open but serious. “Of course. What’s going on?”
Maddie took a deep breath, glancing briefly at Schatzi, who gave her a small nod, before looking back at Sam. “It’s about Hannah. She’s in...a difficult situation.”
Sam’s brow furrowed, concern flickering in his eyes. “What kind of situation?”
“I’m not sure I should be telling you this, but I trust you. She’s pregnant,” Maddie said quietly, her heart squeezing as she spoke the words aloud again. “It’s a secret. She hasn’t told her dad yet. And you can’t tell him, either.”
“I won’t.”
“She’s scared to tell him, and...she doesn’t know what to do.”
Sam’s eyes filled with sympathy as he took in Maddie’s words. He didn’t speak right away, but Maddie could see the wheels turning in his mind, the concern deepening in his expression.
“That poor kid,” Sam murmured, shaking his head. “No wonder she’s been so withdrawn lately.”
Maddie nodded. “I’ve offered to let her stay with us, but...I’m not sure how to help her beyond that. She’s really frightened, Sam. She doesn’t have much of a support system.”
Sam was quiet, his gaze thoughtful as he leaned against the stone mantle. “Well, first off, you and Schatzi are doing more than enough by giving her a safe place to stay. That’s huge, Maddie. She needs that stability more than anything right now.”
Maddie sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind one ear. “But what about her dad? He’s been distant, and she says he’s angry a lot. She’s worried, rightfully so, he won’t take the news well.”
Sam’s expression darkened slightly, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ve known Hannah’s dad for a few years. Bill’s a hard worker and a decent guy, but he’s been through the wringer since his wife passed. Doesn’t excuse his anger, though.”
“Do you think he’ll kick her out?” Maddie asked, her voice laced with worry.
Sam’s lips pressed together, but after a second, he shook his head. “I don’t think so. He might get angry, sure, but he loves Hannah. He’s just lost. He’s grieving, too.”
Maddie nodded slowly, her thoughts spinning. It made sense—grief could warp a person, make them act in ways they normally wouldn’t. She knew that all too well.
“I’ll talk to him,” Sam offered, his voice steady. “When Hannah’s ready, I’ll be there to help break the news. We’ll figure it out. You’re not in this alone.”
Maddie blinked, her heart swelling with gratitude. Sam had a way of easing her burdens without making her feel like she was asking too much. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I didn’t want to ask, but I knew you could help, and I was right.”
Sam smiled gently, his eyes full of warmth. “You don’t have to ask. That’s what neighbors, and friends, do.”
As the fire crackled and the snow continued to fall outside, Maddie felt a small spark of happiness ignite in her chest. Friends. That was nice.
Maybe, with Sam’s help, they could give Hannah the support she needed. And maybe they could all navigate this new ground together, as a sort of community.
It was a comforting thought. For the first time since Hannah had shared her news, Maddie felt like things were going to be okay.