Hannah's Joy

by Marta Perry

  What did he see? Someone else standing in the place that should have been occupied by his son?

  “Robert.” Hannah smoothed her apron. “I didn’t think you were coming by.”

  “I see that.” His voice had an edge. “I came to tell you something. To give you fair warning.”

  William could almost feel the shiver that went through Hannah. She took a step closer to him.

  Conroy’s eyes narrowed at that unconscious, betraying movement. “I’ve been to Harrisburg to meet with an attorney. He’s agreed to take my case.”

  “Attorney?” Hannah echoed the word, probably as confused as William felt.

  “You have until Monday,” Conroy said. “If I don’t hear by then that you’re leaving this place and bringing up my grandson the way you should, I’m filing for custody.”

  He didn’t wait for a response. He just slammed back out of the door.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Hannah stood stunned, unable to move. To speak. Worst of all, to think. Her mind had been swept clean of every thought but one.

  Robert intended to take her child.

  “No.” The word ripped from her throat.

  “Hannah.” William’s hand gripped her arm. “You muscht stoppe. Think. H-he can’t take Jamie.”

  His grasp was firm. Strong. It steadied her. Hannah sucked in a strangled breath, then another. She couldn’t panic. Now, of all times, she had to be in control.

  The kitchen door swung. Aunt Paula and Naomi rushed toward her. Arms closed around her. She was surrounded by love, warmth, support.

  “We heard.” Her aunt choked on a sob. “It can’t be right. He can’t do that.”

  “Ja,” Naomi murmured. “Surely he cannot take Jamie away.”

  Hannah looked up. Jamie still sat on William’s shoulders, gripping William’s hair, his little face puckering as if he’d cry, even though he couldn’t understand what all the fuss was about.

  William, seeming to read her thoughts, lifted Jamie from his shoulders and put him into her arms.

  The weight of that small little body sent fierce love surging through Hannah. She held him close, feeling his breath against her neck when he snuggled.

  “It is all r-right. No one will t-take him from you.” William patted her arm.

  Please, Father. Help me to be calm. Guide me to do the right thing. Please, keep my baby safe.

  Realizing she was leaning against William, she drew away a step. She had to be strong, for Jamie.

  “What can the man be thinking of? Is he crazy, to say such a thing? The law would not let him take Jamie.” Aunt Paula fussed, but Hannah knew there was fear behind the words.

  “I don’t know.” It took an effort to keep her voice steady, but Hannah managed. “I wouldn’t think so either, but if a lawyer agreed . . .”

  She let that trail off, not wanting to voice the words. The lawyer must think there was a case, or why would he or she agree?

  “You must talk this over,” Naomi said. “Not here, where anyone can look in the window and see. Upstairs, ja? I will finish down here.”

  Hannah nodded, glancing toward the plate-glass windows. Naomi was right. She didn’t want to give the community anything else to gossip about.

  “Komm.” William put his arm around her and Jamie, urging her toward the steps. “Naomi is right.”

  Going up the stairs felt like climbing a mountain. If not for the support of William’s arm, she wasn’t sure she’d make it.

  There she was, relying on him again. She shouldn’t do that, but she couldn’t seem to help it.

  “In the kitchen.” Once they were upstairs, Aunt Paula took over. “Jamie will be hungry, and you must have something, Hannah. Nice hot tea is gut for shock. And something sweet to eat, also. That will help you think.”

  Hannah had a feeling it would take more than that, but she let herself be shepherded into the kitchen. Aunt Paula bustled around, taking refuge from her own fears by feeding people, which was always her first reaction.

  William leaned against the counter, watching Hannah. She suspected he’d be by her side if she showed any sign of weakness.

  Aunt Paula thrust a mug of tea in front of her and watched her until she sipped it. It scalded her mouth, but it warmed her, too.

  Jamie climbed up into his booster chair without being told, and Aunt Paula put toast triangles in front of him.

  “I don’t understand,” her aunt said. “Why does Robert want to do this? He can’t imagine he’d be a better parent than you are.”

  Hannah pressed her fingers against her temples. “He’s barely even interacted with Jamie.”

  “H-he is trying to m-make you afraid. So you’ll d-do what he wants.”

  She nodded. William had it right. That was undoubtedly what was in Robert’s mind. “He wants to make me leave Pleasant Valley. Leave the church. Live the way he imagines Travis would want.”

  “Ach, the man is ferhoodled.” Aunt Paula sat down abruptly, as if her legs wouldn’t hold her up any longer. “He doesn’t want Jamie. He is blinded by the need to control everything.”

  “He f-feels guilty,” William said. “That is it, I th-think. He w-wishes he had been a better f-father, so he’s trying to m-make up for that.”

  Hannah focused on William’s words. He was seeing the situation clearly. Robert was driven by guilt as much as anything.

  “Well, if he thinks Travis would want that boy taken away from his mammi, he’s crazy, like I said.” Aunt Paula’s voice was tart with worry and fear.

  “You m-must get a l-lawyer, too,” William said abruptly.

  The advice sounded strange, coming from an Amishman, but Aunt Paula was already nodding.

  “Ja, William is right. I know, we don’t sue people, but this is different. He is going against you, and you must have a lawyer to defend yourself.”

  “It will be so expensive. And so ugly to be defending myself in court. If Robert would only listen . . .”

  “Well, he won’t,” Aunt Paula said, her eyes snapping. “You’ve tried, and he won’t listen. We must protect Jamie.”

  We. She had family now. People who loved her and would do their best to protect her and Jamie.

  But to go to court . . . What if she lost? Her heart nearly stopped.

  “There i-is the l-lady who helped Sarah,” William said.

  “Ach, ja, that’s so,” Aunt Paula exclaimed. “Sarah, the midwife. When the doctor in town tried to make her stop delivering babies, the lady lawyer took her case. She is just the one.”

  “I don’t . . .” Hannah wanted to say she’d think about it. Try to figure out some other way. But in her heart she knew it was no use. Robert wouldn’t agree to her plans, so there was nothing else to be done.

  Except give in. Give up. Take Jamie away from all that was familiar and try to start over again somewhere else.

  “I will go to Sarah.” William pushed himself away from the counter. “To g-get the n-name and n-number of the woman.”

  “Denke, William.” Aunt Paula nodded. “That’s right. It’s the only thing to do.”

  William was already heading for the stairs.

  “I probably won’t even be able to talk to the woman before Monday, and that’s Robert’s deadline.”

  “All the more reason for William to go right away,” her aunt said.

  Hannah tried to force a smile, but she couldn’t. The truth was that William probably needed to get out of here, and this was a good reason to go.

  Something had begun between them. They both knew that. But it was still small and fragile, and all of this pressure was too much, too soon.

  William turned at the top of the stairs. “It will be all right. Y-you’ll see.” Then he hurried down, disappearing from her view.

  *
* *

  Anxiety sat next to William on the buggy seat as he drove the few miles to the birthing center. This was a small thing he could do to help Hannah in her trouble—maybe even a needless thing. Hannah or her aunt could have called Sarah to ask for the information, since the birthing center did have a telephone.

  Still, going himself gave him the chance to impress upon Sarah how serious the situation was. Hannah, not knowing Sarah, might feel uncomfortable pushing her to contact the attorney on her behalf. William had no such reserve. He’d do whatever he had to do if it got Hannah the help he needed to keep Jamie safe.

  Jamie—it seemed he could still feel the boy’s weight on his shoulders, hear the gurgle of his laughter. No one should have the right to take Jamie away from those who loved him.

  The lane came up faster than he’d thought. The mare must have caught his tension through his handling of the lines. The buggy reached the hitching rail and William jumped down, tossing the line over the rail and hurrying to the door.

  This old house had probably seen plenty of people rushing in, filled with anxiety over a baby that was coming. His errand might be different, but it was still about a child’s safety.

  The door swung open as he approached, and Aaron looked at him in surprise. “William. I was about to say that Sarah was fetching her bag, but you’re not here to call the midwife, are you?”

  “No, but I do need to see Sarah.”

  Aaron waved him in. “Komm, please. We’ll be having supper in a little bit. You’re wilkom to join us.”

  He should answer, but his attention was focused on Sarah, just coming into the room.

  She looked at him questioningly, maybe reading him better than Aaron did. Sarah always seemed so calm and composed . . . probably that was an asset for a midwife, where nervous parents were concerned.

  “Komm, sit down, William. Was ist letz? Tell us about it.”

  He shook his head to the offer of a chair and instead stood, grasping its back with both hands. “I w-won’t s-stay long.” He took a shallow breath, remembering all Hannah’s teachings. “H-Hannah needs help. Her f-father-in-law h-has gotten a lawyer.” It was easier, once he’d started. “He threatens t-to take Jamie away.”

  There was a shocked exclamation from Aaron behind him.

  “Hannah is a g-gut mammi. But he doesn’t approve of P-Plain folks. Or our b-beliefs. He’s trying to f-force Hannah to leave. Hannah needs a l-lawyer. I thought of th-the one who h-helped you. W-will you call her?”

  Understanding filled Sarah’s face. “Ja, of course. She is a fine attorney.”

  “Gut. But it m-must be right away. He gave H-Hannah only until Monday. We can’t w-wait.”

  Sarah shot a glance at Aaron. William knew he was giving away his feelings with every word, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Sarah act now.

  “I’ll call right now.” Sarah moved quickly to the door, heading for the phone shanty Aaron had built for her on the porch. “I just hope she’s not gone away for the weekend. If I get her, I’ll ask her to call Hannah immediately.” She looked again at Aaron. “Why don’t you see if William will have something to eat or drink while he waits?”

  “I don’t need—” he began, but Aaron was already pouring a glass of lemonade.

  “Have it anyway, or Sarah will fuss.” He took a couple of hand-size molasses cookies from the jar on the counter and put them in front of William. “This is my job now when anxious daads come to the door. I keep them calm while Sarah gets ready.”

  William took a bite and discovered he was hungry. “It m-must be crazy when a c-couple of bopplis d-decide to komm at once.”

  Aaron grinned. “That’s when I head to the workshop and stay out of the way.”

  Footsteps drew William’s attention to the door. When Sarah appeared, she was smiling. “It’s all right. She was there, and when I explained, she said she’d call Hannah right away. Hannah will feel better knowing she has Sheila Downing to help her.”

  “Gut. D-denke.” He set the glass down. “I must go and see what else I can do.”

  He saw an invitation to supper forming on her face and went quickly to the door. “Denke,” he said again, and went out before they could try to convince him.

  He couldn’t stay. He couldn’t sit still that long, not if there was some other way to help Hannah.

  He drove back toward town, turning the question over in his mind. Should he tell Hannah’s bishop what was happening? But he didn’t like to do that without first getting her permission. She might feel the need to consult the bishop herself, especially about hiring a lawyer, something Amish and Mennonites seldom did. This situation wasn’t one most folks were prepared to cope with.

  He’d almost reached town when another thought occurred to him. Hannah had mentioned how kind Nancy Russo had been, when she’d talked to the woman about her father-in-law. William knew the woman’s husband. Phil was a member of the volunteer fire company, like William, even though he didn’t go out on calls much anymore. Phil probably understood Robert Conroy better than William ever could. Maybe they’d be willing to help.

  The more he thought about it, the better he liked the idea. But liking it and acting on it were two different things. To go to an Englisch person’s house, to talk about something so difficult—for an instant fear took a stranglehold on his throat.

  He fought it down, inch by inch. This was for Hannah and Jamie. He would not let them down.

  William began rehearsing in his mind what he would say, but the Russo house came up too quickly. Breathing a silent prayer, he turned into the driveway and tied the mare to a porch railing.

  He approached the back door, and then realized that he was in town now, not in the country where visitors went to the back door as a matter of course. But even as he thought that, Phil opened the door.

  “William Brand! Come in, come in. What brings you our way?” He ushered William into the kitchen. “Nancy, look who’s come to see us.”

  Mrs. Russo he had seen in the shop a time or two, but he’d never actually spoken to her. He took off his hat as she came into the room.

  “William, how nice.” The woman came straight to him, hand outstretched, smiling warmly. “Is there something we can do for you?”

  He swallowed. “I-I w-want to t-talk to you. About R-Robert Conroy.” There, it was out, and the rest should be easier.

  Nancy and her husband exchanged glances. “You’re a friend of Hannah’s, I know. Is this about her?”

  “Nancy, I’m not sure we should get involved in this,” Phil began, his expression uneasy.

  “You’re the one who got us involved to begin with,” she said firmly. She turned back to William. “Go on, William.”

  He gripped the back of a kitchen chair, as he had at Aaron and Sarah’s. Somehow holding on to something solid made it easier to talk.

  “C-Conroy h-has th-threatened H-Hannah. Saying if she d-doesn’t l-leave Pleasant Valley, he w-will try to t-take Jamie away.”

  “But that’s ridiculous.” Phil’s face reddened. “He wouldn’t do that. You must have misunderstood.”

  William let the words wash over him. “I h-heard him. H-he said he had t-talked to a lawyer in H-Harrisburg. If Hannah d-does not agree b-by Monday, he w-will g-go to court.”

  It sounded unbelievable to William, as well, but it was true. If they wouldn’t accept it as true, they wouldn’t help.

  “I know you are sympathetic to Robert as a fellow veteran, Phil,” Mrs. Russo said, “but you have to admit that he’s not being rational about Hannah’s faith. He’s a walking collection of all the ridiculous prejudices against Plain people we’ve ever heard, and you know it.”

  Phil seemed to deflate as his wife’s words sank in. “I’ve tried to explain to him,” he muttered.

  “I know you have, dear.”
She patted his arm. “But we have to do better than that, don’t we?”

  He nodded, straightening his shoulders. “You’re right. Conroy’s gone off the rails if he thinks this is the right thing to do.”

  He met William’s gaze. “Hannah can count on us to help in any way we can.” He held out his hand. “You have my word on it.”

  William shook hands, but even as he was thanking them, his mind was jumping ahead. He’d taken a couple of positive steps forward, but was it enough?

  * * *

  The service at the churchhouse had been more meaningful than ever before that Sunday morning, Hannah decided. She’d prayed her way through the entire worship, feeling the sense of community strong around her. Surely God would show her the way through this trial.

  She’d just put Jamie down for his nap, and there had been moments when she’d wanted to crawl into the crib with him. But hiding wasn’t the answer any more than running away was. This had to be faced.

  “Do you think the lawyer lady will want a cup of coffee? Or maybe iced tea?” Aunt Paula hovered between the living room and the kitchen. “I’m not sure what to offer her.”

  “Either is fine.” What the woman would drink was the least of Hannah’s worries, but she knew her aunt was just expressing her own stress by fussing. “It was kind of her to come out here on a Sunday.”

  “Ja, ser kind. That is what Sarah said about her. I’ll have both ready, and some apple crumb pie, as well.” The kitchen door swung to behind her.

  Hannah still found it hard to believe that the attorney would actually come to the house to talk to her. Sarah must have given her a picture of the situation, stressing that Robert insisted on an answer by Monday. Tomorrow. Hannah’s heart seemed to skip a beat.

  If she could turn the pages of the calendar back, to before Robert’s arrival . . . what would she do? Was there anything she could have done differently from the start that might have prevented this outcome? Maybe it had been inevitable.

  The doorbell rang, cutting off that futile line of thought. Hannah put her palm on her stomach, as if that would calm the butterflies there, and went quickly down the stairs to open the door.