A Hope for Hannah (Hannah's Heart 2)

by Jerry S. Eicher

  “There will be more good news for us—and for the baby too.” Jake shut the cabin door and drew Hannah into his arms.

  Hannah loved the scent of wood on Jake. His beard had lengthened since his ordination, and the hair brushed against her cheek. If he didn’t trim his beard soon, it would be down past the first button on his shirt. She reached up to playfully run her hand down its length.

  “You need to trim the edges,” she said, laughing, “or I will.”

  “I guess,” he said. “Just didn’t get around to it.”

  “Supper’s ready,” she said, leading him to the kitchen. “Wash up.”

  Jake did and joined her at the table, where the soft light from the kerosene lamp darkened Jake’s face, giving him an almost dangerous and exciting look. A thrill ran through Hannah, and she kissed him before she sat down.

  “Still won’t eat the deer meat?” Jake said as he helped himself to the meat dish she had prepared. “If you cook it through, it will be fine.”

  “I know,” she said. “I’m just not ready yet. Maybe next time.”

  “Maybe I need to get you some store-bought meat,” he said. “You need the strength.”

  “I’ll do with potatoes and vegetables,” she said. “Things taste funny right now anyway. Because of the baby, I guess.”

  “That’s what Mom said—with the younger ones,” he replied.

  They bowed their heads together silently and gave thanks for the food in front of them. Hannah also gave thanks for Jake’s work, for Betty, and for family close by. And she gave thanks for the growing baby.

  As they began to eat, Hannah asked, “You miss your family, don’t you?”

  “I do miss Mom and Dad,” he said, “more than I thought I would. We’ll get a chance to visit, though, all in good time.”

  “Maybe around Christmas?” she suggested.

  “I doubt it,” Jake said. “There are too many miles to travel, and the hardware store gets busy closer to Christmas. I don’t think I can get away.”

  “Speaking of family,” Hannah said, “Betty asked us to come over for Thanksgiving. She said she might invite Elizabeth and John too. Steve’s side of the family doesn’t have anything planned for that day this year.”

  “That’s good,” Jake said.

  “I wonder what Mr. Brunson will do for the holidays,” Hannah said. “He’s so alone here.”

  “He’ll get by. He’s probably used to it by now,” Jake said, ladling some gravy on his potatoes. “He stopped in at the hardware store today. He looked at what we were doing and seemed quite interested, although I wasn’t sure why.”

  “Maybe he likes log furniture.”

  “Maybe,” Jake agreed. “He asked all kinds of questions about the business end of our arrangement and went out with Mr. Howard afterward. I don’t know what that was all about. He probably was just wondering about the sales end of things.”

  “Maybe he could help sell more,” Hannah said. “He is from back East. Maybe he knows of some ways to sell the furniture there.”

  “I thought of that too. He’d have to work with Mr. Howard, of course.”

  “Jake, why couldn’t you make furniture on your own? Why do you have to go through Mr. Howard?”

  “Well, there’s a couple of things. First is the up-front money. It takes a lot, and I don’t have it. Then there’s the fact that the hardware store draws in people. If I made furniture on my own, I’d need a way for people to see it. That takes money too. I’m content with the way things are for now.”

  When they had finished eating, Jake asked, “You want help with the dishes?”

  Hannah could see his mind was somewhere else and said, “No, I can do them.”

  “I’ll help clear the table, at least,” he said as he collected the dishes and took them to the sink.

  After the table was clear, Jake left Hannah the gas lantern and took the kerosene lamp to the table by his chair in the living room. It brought tears to Hannah’s eyes to realize that he had left her the best light and took the lesser one for himself.

  When she was done with the dishes, Hannah brought the gas lantern with her into the living room. Its waves of light illuminated Jake as he read from the Bible. She hung the lantern on the hook and joined him on the couch. She picked up the Family Life, and Jake continued with his Bible.

  Hannah soon discovered, though, that she couldn’t keep her thoughts on the page in front of her. The black words refused to stand out from the paper. Instead, it was as if the article was written in a foreign language. Her mind kept wandering to the unrelenting push of life around her.

  Where did it go? That was the question. Each day seemed to push Jake and her further along whether they wanted to go or not. Is this how it is for everyone?

  She glanced over to Jake. His concentration on the pages in front of him was total, his lips moving slightly as he read. Outside the window was the deep night, and Hannah could almost feel the chill of the air against the logs. Jake must have noticed too because he stirred himself from his reading.

  “Better add some wood to the furnace,” he said and got up.

  Hannah watched him as he left for the utility room to attend to their small furnace that heated the parts of the house unreached by the kitchen stove. He seemed older to her tonight, even aged already. Maybe it was just the cold, dark night that made her think so.

  She had thought the same thing last Sunday as she watched him preach. Jake had taken the first sermon again—as was normal for a young preacher. No doubt Bishop Nisley wanted to prove his new minister well before he let him have the main sermon, an hour-long affair.

  As Jake preached, Hannah watched his face, careful to drop her gaze to the floor when he turned in her direction. At Sunday morning church, she felt as if she had no business being part of his holy thoughts. Here at home she didn’t feel that way.

  Sitting beside Hannah, young Sylvia Stoll seemed to have no such problem. She readily met Jake’s gaze. Hannah felt ashamed for even having the thought, but she couldn’t help herself. What reason did Sylvia have to keep her eyes raised when Jake looked in her direction? Hannah asked herself if the situation were reversed and Ben was preaching, would she drop her eyes just as with Jake? She supposed not. As she realized that Ben would never be as good a preacher as Jake, she felt no better.

  Jake yawned when he came back and took his seat on the couch again.

  “I heard some news today,” he said without looking at her.

  “Yes?” She waited.

  “There are to be some meetings over in Kalispell—tent meetings.”

  “What kind of tent meetings?” She turned to face him.

  “Revival meetings. Some Mennonite group, from what I hear.”

  “And?” she let the question hang. Surely Jake was simply passing on information. He could have no desire to attend.

  “A fellow came into the hardware store to pass out flyers. Mr. Howard let him leave some on the counter.”

  “You looked at them?” Hannah’s eyes were wide in the soft light of the gas lantern.

  Jake chuckled. “I couldn’t help it. They looked interesting, and I’ve never been to a tent meeting.”

  “No,” Hannah said, “surely not. You wouldn’t go?”

  Jake laughed this time and shook his head.

  Not certain what Jake’s laughter meant, Hannah sat up straighter. Did he mean, No, he wouldn’t go, or was his laughter directed at her question?

  “I could ask Bishop Nisley whether we can go,” he said in a perfectly calm voice.

  “You wouldn’t.” Hannah grabbed his arm. “Don’t even think of it. Everyone would find out. They would even find out about you just asking to go.”

  Jake laughed again. “I’m just teasing, Hannah.”

  “Well, don’t tease like that,” she said. “It’s not at all funny.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, glancing over at her. “I didn’t mean it. It just looked interesting.”

  Not convinced, she s
tudied his face for a clue.

  “I was teasing,” he repeated. “Really.”

  “Okay,” she relented, drawing him toward her. “Don’t scare me like that.”

  “Ben and Sylvia went, though,” he said, dropping the words like a bomb.

  “How do you know that?” she asked, frightened again.

  “I’m a minister,” he said simply as if that were the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m told things.”

  “Surely people aren’t tattling to you already.” She felt a new fear run through her. “I don’t want to be involved with that.”

  Visions of her growing-up years flashed through her mind. Dennis, a distant cousin on Kathy’s side, had always run to the preachers with every breach of rules he witnessed. Her parents had never liked such tattling, relative or not. Their dislike spread even further, though, reaching to the preachers who would listen to such tattletales.

  “It’s not like that,” Jake said, seeming to understand her concern. “John mentioned it last Sunday.”

  So Jake had known for nearly a week already and had not shared it with her? Hannah swallowed hard, realizing that this was likely to be their future—Jake knowing things about people she didn’t know or even want to know.

  “I hope Ben and Sylvia aren’t serious,” she managed. “I’d hate to lose them.”

  “Me too,” Jake said, reaching for his Bible again. “Bishop hopes a talk will solve the problem. He’s going to see them himself.”

  “I hope it works,” she said.

  Jake nodded and turned back to the Gospel of John, the pages open before him.

  A horrible thought kept Hannah frozen in place. If Ben and Sylvia left the Amish and went liberal, my concern about Sylvia would go away. A deep embarrassment filled Hannah. What if Jake knows what I am thinking? I will never tell him, that’s for sure. Once again she felt the disruption of life’s unexpected twists and turns.

  “I’m going to bed,” she said softly.

  “I’ll be there in a little bit,” Jake said, his eyes gentle in the lantern’s light.

  Thirty-one

  Betty extended the dining room table from wall to wall for her Thanksgiving feast. Bishop Nisley and Elizabeth had accepted the invitation, and their presence made it seem like old times to Hannah. She remembered not too long ago how she and Jake—then just a young unmarried couple—had sat at the same table with them, eyeing one another discretely across the table.

  And now John and Elizabeth recalled those days with happiness and said they knew even before Jake and Hannah that they would eventually get married. Betty agreed, though Steve admitted he had been oblivious to the whole budding romance—if that was what it had been.

  As they drove home, Hannah very nearly fell asleep in the buggy. They had stayed late, and the night was cold. She leaned against Jake and closed her eyes. She had needed this happy evening and was sorry it had to end.

  A few days later Mr. Brunson stopped by and talked with Jake but didn’t get out of his pickup. He told Jake the court appearance had gone as expected. He received a heavy fine.

  The next morning, Hannah awoke to the strange feeling that something was not right—or maybe she was feeling the baby move within her for the first time. Whatever was happening was so new to Hannah that she wanted to see Dr. Lisa as soon as possible. Today, she hoped.

  When she told Jake she wanted to go to the doctor, he agreed.

  “We’ll go now,” he said. “We’ll stop by the hardware store so I can tell Mr. Howard I’ll be coming in late. I want to go to the doctor with you.”

  Jake nervously hitched up Mosey, and Hannah climbed into the buggy. They rode to town in silence. Hannah didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know if what she felt was normal or cause for worry. It was all so new.

  Halfway to Libby she said, “This is going to cost us money we can’t spare. Maybe we should go to Betty’s. She’ll tell me if this is all right…or if I should see Dr. Lisa.”

  Jake thought a minute and then said, “No, I think we should go to the doctor’s office and hope she can squeeze you in without an appointment. I don’t want to waste time going to Betty’s if this turns out to be serious.”

  Hannah just nodded and said nothing more.

  When Jake stopped at the store, Mr. Howard was insistent that Jake take whatever time he needed at the doctor’s office. The furniture could wait.

  A few minutes later, they arrived at Dr. Lisa’s office. When Hannah explained to the receptionist that she felt something might be wrong, she was shown into an examination room while Jake stayed in the waiting room.

  Dr. Lisa came in a little later. After asking Hannah some questions and examining her, the doctor confirmed Hannah’s worst fear.

  “I’m so sorry,” Dr. Lisa said, putting her hand on Hannah’s arm.

  “I’ve lost the baby,” Hannah said numbly.

  “Yes.”

  Hannah started to cry softly, almost embarrassed to show emotion to someone she barely knew.

  “This happens,” Dr. Lisa said gently. “It’s always hard.”

  “It was the infection, wasn’t it?” Hannah asked.

  “We don’t know. It would be just a guess. It could have been for other reasons.”

  “It was my fault.”

  “No, you mustn’t blame yourself,” Dr. Lisa said. “These things are in the hands of God. He works out what is best. Don’t your people believe that?”

  “That’s what Jake would say, I suppose,” Hannah said. “That doesn’t make it any easier. I was hoping for a boy—Jake’s boy.”

  Dr. Lisa nodded. “I understand. I’m going to write a prescription. Pick it up at the drugstore. Then I want to see you again in two weeks. If you have any concerns or other questions, please call my office.”

  Hannah thanked Dr. Lisa, met Jake in the waiting room, and told him the news. He put his arm around her and held her for a moment. Then as someone entered the waiting room, he pulled out his checkbook and approached the receptionist to pay for the office visit.

  “No charge,” the woman said. “Doctor’s orders.”

  Jake thanked the woman but decided he would not want this to be a charity. He would wait and ask Dr. Lisa about making some furniture in trade for her services.

  Outside, Jake helped Hannah into the buggy and asked, “Are you okay?”

  She nodded. “We need to pick up this prescription if we can afford it. I can do without it, though, I’m sure.”

  “No, we’re getting it anyway,” Jake said firmly.

  On the way home, they stopped briefly at Betty’s. “She’d want to know right away,” Hannah said without emotion.

  When she stepped down from the buggy, Betty was standing at her open door, having heard them approach. Hannah went to her and simply began to cry. Somehow that told Betty everything she needed to know. She wrapped Hannah in an embrace and cried with her for a few minutes. Jake could not remember the last time Betty had nothing to say.

  When they arrived home, Jake checked the mailbox. There was little except for what looked like a bill and a letter.

  “Your mother,” he said, handing it to Hannah. “It’s good it came today.”

  “Mothers know sometimes,” she said.

  While Jake unhitched Mosey, Hannah sat down on the couch to read her letter.

  Dear Hannah,

  I know I just wrote last week, but I felt like writing today again. It seems as if time is passing so fast. I think of you often. How are you and the coming baby doing? We pray the child will be spared any ill effects of the infection.

  Hannah stopped reading, the tears stinging her eyes.

  Tell Jake hi for us. Indiana is still open to people moving in, but we understand about his new responsibilities. Aunt Martha was here today. I have a quilt on the frame. It’s for the school Christmas sale. I’ve let the women know, and seems like someone stops in most every day. Last week Mary Bontrager, from the neighboring district, stayed almost all day. It was good to catc
h up on the news. Our two districts share the schoolhouse. That has changed since you attended. I think there were four districts sharing it then.

  A bunch of couples have been called out in church recently. Dave and Esther Yoder were called out last Sunday. Seems like more and more young people are getting married these days, but why should we complain? It’s a sign of a growing and prosperous church.

  We hope this finds you well and in good health. May God keep both you and Jake. I think your dad wants coffee made. He’s banging around in the kitchen.

  Your mother

  Hannah folded the letter, feeling comforted in a way. Even across the miles, her mother’s love had reached her.

  Jake walked in, and Hannah said, “Hi from Mom and Dad.” As an afterthought, she added, “You really ought to write to your mother—especially now.”

  “I will tonight,” Jake said.

  Jake stayed home from work the rest of the day, wanting to be with Hannah. He did a few chores around the cabin but stayed close to her even when she laid down for a lengthy afternoon nap.

  When she awoke, Hannah realized she needed to start supper but wondered what they were to eat. She found some leftovers and warmed them in the oven, telling Jake, “It’s not much, but for tonight it’ll do.”

  “Hannah, after this I don’t want you to prepare any more of the deer meat,” he said.

  “We can’t let it go to waste,” Hannah said.

  “Neither can we eat it,” he said. “I’ll buy hamburger for the rest of the winter. It’s the principle of the thing.”

  “But,” she protested, “think of the cost.”

  Jake shook his head and sat down with a sigh. “No.”

  “Betty said she would take what we couldn’t eat,” Hannah said. “She didn’t want us to throw it away.”

  “Fine,” Jake said. “I’ll take it over.”

  Hannah felt like saying thank you, but Jake might not understand. The load of her guilt felt much lighter. Didn’t he realize this was her fault?