A Hope for Hannah (Hannah's Heart 2)

by Jerry S. Eicher

  Hannah gazed at the star. The line of light seemed to come from the depths of immeasurable space and pierced her soul. She shivered with the feeling.

  Surely Jake was just talking long with Bishop. She stepped out into the yard and listened for a horse’s hooves on the pavement. Jake should be coming from the south. When no sound came, she walked out to the road to listen. There was only the great stillness of the sky above her. Even the voices from the house had faded away.

  So this is to be my life, she thought, and the loneliness almost overwhelmed her. Jake was being taken away from her slowly but surely. This is how it will always be, church work and demands taking up ever more of our time—Jake’s time and my time—until none is left.

  The chill penetrated her coat even as her thoughts pierced her heart. Hannah pulled her arms tightly around herself. It helped keep out the cold air but not the unwanted thoughts. Only the sound of hoofbeats on the pavement would comfort her at this moment, but no sound came.

  As she walked slowly back toward the house, she was struck with the horrible thought, What if something has happened to Jake? An accident? So real was her fear that she walked back out to the road to listen again, shivering in the cold.

  There was no sound of sirens in the distance. But then she told herself, Maybe I can’t hear them from here. The accident could have happened anywhere, somewhere far from here—maybe just outside Libby before Jake had even gotten out of town.

  Jake could have been taken to the hospital. How would she be notified? Jake carried no identification. He would just be a nameless Amish person lost in some numbered room at the hospital.

  That is if he made it to the hospital. A worse fear ran through her. Had not Bishop Amos died in a wreck just after ordaining Jake? Was this something that could be passed on? At the moment, anything seemed possible.

  When Hannah, her body chilled from the cold, went back inside, her face must have shown the distress she felt.

  “Nothing?” Betty both asked and answered the question. “Oh, they’re probably just talking long. That’s to be expected.”

  Hannah nodded numbly, forcing herself to move to the living room. It wouldn’t help to stay in the kitchen, away from the others. That might only draw attention to herself. With a pasted-on smile, she joined the group.

  As they had for the past two years, the youth were busy assisting Helping Hands, a ministry in Libby, with their Christmas package preparations. They were wrapping up the clothing and toys, supplied by the Goodwill in Libby and its sister store in Kalispell, so that the packages could then be distributed to the area’s needy children.

  Hannah offered to take her turn at one of the six ironing boards set up to press the clothes before they were placed in the packages.

  “Over here,” Emily Nisley, Bishop John’s oldest daughter, said cheerfully. “My arm’s about ready to drop off.”

  Hannah gripped the handle of the iron and leaned against it for support, her emotions still swirling because of Jake’s absence. The iron’s angry sizzle at being pressed into the cloth caused her to jerk the iron upward.

  “Oh,” she said at Emily’s puzzled look, “I’m not always that clumsy.”

  “The iron gets hot a little quickly,” Emily said in a helpful tone.

  Hannah smiled her thanks.

  She slid the iron across the dress, and Emily left, finding a seat beside Enos Chupp, who was busy folding clothes for the packages.

  Enos was Mose Chupp’s second boy and a little older than Emily. Not too long ago, Hannah would have known every boy’s age pretty close to the month, but how things had changed. She was definitely no longer one of the youth. Even less so now that she was a minister’s wife.

  Hannah had to smile at the way Emily looked shyly at Enos as she helped him fold the clothing. From time to time, she would drop her gaze to the floor and then raise it back to Enos, who seemed to enjoy the attention. His lips moved easily as the two engaged in conversation.

  Oh, to be young again, Hannah thought, turning her mind back to her ironing before she burned something else. Young love and where it leads, I ought to know, she told herself.

  As soon as all the packages were finished, Betty and Hannah served the refreshments. The young people took their plates into the living room, the hum of conversation filling the room.

  Hannah tried to keep busy and not focus on the fact that Jake had still not arrived.

  “Maybe Steve should go look for him,” Betty whispered when she noticed Hannah’s drawn face.

  “No,” Hannah said. She simply wouldn’t allow her mind to entertain the thought of something wrong. Whatever was keeping Jake—no doubt just a long conversation with Bishop Nisley about church business—was easier to handle than any other option.

  “But what if?” Betty asked, apparently having no qualms with troublesome thoughts of possible danger. “Surely he would have let you know.”

  “He’s just talking long.” Hannah pressed her lips together firmly, struggling to control her fears.

  “You have more courage than I do,” Betty said with admiration. “It’s getting pretty late.”

  “I know,” Hannah said, dreading the moments ahead when the young people would leave and there would possibly be no Jake.

  Thirty minutes later, as the boys began to drift out to the barn to hitch their horses to the buggies, Jake still had not arrived. Hannah watched the horses snort white steam and jerk their heads into the air as the boys drove their buggies near to pick up sisters or cousins and take them out into the night.

  Hannah went back to a chair at the kitchen table to calm herself. When the last young person had left, she knew she had to consider the worst. Someone would have to go look for Jake, and she knew what he would be looking for—a mangled body along the road or an equally torn body in the hospital. It would be just another of the frequent buggy and automobile accidents the Amish had come to accept as their lot. She folded her arms across her chest and willed herself to continue to breathe.

  She would not go along. Betty would see to that. Steve would go on his own, and the tense, drawn-out wait would begin. Already her knuckles were white under the kitchen table. She pushed the unthinkable away, gathering herself together.

  The noise of the departing buggy wheels crunching in the snow outside must have kept Hannah from hearing the sound of Jake’s buggy arriving. Jake tied Mosey to the hitching post and briefly greeted the last of the youth on their way out.

  He feared what awaited him inside and said as much to Steve, who had been helping the last of the boys hitch up.

  “I know I’m really late,” he said, his breath coming in long white streams.

  “Hannah’s been worried,” Steve admitted, “but Betty’s kept her busy. You missed out on a good youth gathering. We had quite a nice group here.”

  “Always did,” Jake agreed. “We were part of the group ourselves not that long ago.”

  The two men made their way to the house, and Jake waited while Steve opened the kitchen door.

  The suddenness of Jake’s appearance brought Hannah to her feet.

  “I’m so sorry,” Jake said as he walked over to Hannah. “I would have let you know, but there was no way. It just took so long.”

  Hannah couldn’t find words but knew her face showed her distress far more than her words could anyway.

  “Did Bishop keep you?” Betty asked from the living room door.

  Jake ignored Betty as he sat down. He took Hannah’s hands and drew her back down to her chair. He said nothing, allowing his eyes to express his regret over the pain his lateness had caused. Hannah resisted being drawn in by his gaze but then let go as the tears came.

  “I didn’t know what kept you,” she said. “It could have been—”

  Jake squeezed her hands. “But it wasn’t. I’m here now.”

  Hannah relaxed and smiled.

  When he saw that Hannah was fine again, he turned to Betty and asked, “Is there any food left?”

&nb
sp; “Isn’t that just like a man!” Betty said. “He comes in late and thinks of nothing but food.”

  “There’s plenty left,” Steve said with a chuckle. “Help yourself.”

  Jake did help himself, and Hannah, now feeling relieved and finding that her own appetite had returned, fixed herself a healthy plate. Betty, of course, fussed over them as if they both needed attention.

  Hannah leaned against Jake on the way home. They rode in silence. It is better this way, Hannah thought. Apparently neither Jake nor she could change what they had become—two puppets pulled along by the strings of life. She yearned to stop everything and just hold on to Jake until the two of them were left alone, letting life and all its troubles pass them by.

  “Bishop said Will and Rebecca are staying,” Jake said sleepily as they pulled into the driveway.

  “Really!” Hannah sat up straight upon hearing this good news. “That’s wonderful.”

  “Yes,” Jake said, “it is. It will be best for them and for all of us.”

  Thirty-seven

  On the Friday before Christmas, a fierce snowstorm blew in from Idaho. Mr. Howard had insisted Jake leave work at the hardware store early and get home while he could. By the time Jake pulled into the driveway, the storm was gathering its full strength.

  Hannah watched Jake unhitch Mosey as snow swirled furiously around them. Jake pulled on Mosey’s reins, trying to get him to move inside more quickly. Apparently the horse, after his hurried drive from town, was too tired to care. Finally Mosey relented. Jake quickly got him settled in his stall and then rushed to the house. Reaching the porch, he shook the snow from his coat and hat before entering with a sigh.

  “Quite some storm,” he said. Then he quickly added, “Look what I have!”

  “What?” she asked.

  “A bonus check!” Jake drew a piece of paper from his coat pocket and waved it around. “Mr. Howard sold all the furniture we’ve made so far. It’s partly due to Christmas sales, but it doesn’t matter. Sales are sales. He kept his promise and paid me my share of the profits.” Jake grinned broadly with satisfaction.

  “That’s wonderful!” Hannah let relief flow through her freely, though she felt a little ashamed that money should mean so much to her. In their situation that was just the way it was.

  “Two mortgage payments,” Jake pronounced. “Two! That will put us past January.”

  “We might need it,” Hannah said, her mind on the snow outside. She could just see them snowed in for weeks on end and Jake unable to work.

  “I think the worst is over, moneywise,” Jake said, still wearing his broad grin. “The furniture shop seems to be a winner.”

  “I hope so,” Hannah said. “I’ll get supper going. I didn’t expect you home early.” She started toward the kitchen.

  “Wait,” Jake said. “I bought us something. I thought it was time.”

  “What?” she asked, puzzled.

  “It’s still out in the buggy. I wanted to tell you first.”

  Hannah waited, letting Jake take his time.

  “Meat,” Jake said. “Hamburger from the store. I want us to have some for supper.”

  “Can we afford it?” It was all Hannah could think to say.

  “With this check, yes, we can,” he said, his grin returning. He lifted up the check again. “I’ll cash it Monday. We’ll have money left over after we pay the bank for the cabin.”

  “Meat,” she said. “I’ve forgotten how much I missed it. Have you thought of it?”

  “First thing,” Jake said. “I know you’ve been missing it.”

  “I wasn’t complaining,” she made sure to say.

  “I know you weren’t. You’re too good a wife to complain.”

  “And you have a silver tongue!” she said.

  “I thought maybe golden?” he teased.

  “Silver is good enough. Now, you go bring in the meat. I need to start frying it if you want some for supper.”

  “I’ll be right back,” Jake said, reaching for his coat again. As he opened the front door, the snow and wind blasted into the cabin.

  “The storm’s getting worse,” Hannah said.

  “We are snug as two bugs in a rug,” Jake said as he disappeared out the door, the latch firmly clinking in place behind him.

  Hannah stoked the fire in the stove. When Jake came in, she thawed the hamburger over the stove. Soon the rich aroma of freshly fried hamburger filled the cabin.

  They sat down to eat, Jake prayed aloud, and the two served themselves healthy-sized portions of the meat. Jake, to Hannah’s teasing, squeezed ketchup liberally onto his plate and dipped each piece of meat before he brought it to his mouth.

  As she watched him, Hannah felt her own pleasure grow. Is this not how things are supposed to be—life with my husband, the two of us gathered around the dinner table with snow blasting outside? Closed in together? It made the moment feel as though all the outside problems they could ever face were far away. Perhaps if life was changing for them—if things were really getting better—she might have an answer to her silent wish.

  The snow continued to fall as they went to bed. Drifts were now up to the top of the front porch, but Hannah didn’t care. Jake’s check had brought them a measure of security that set aside worries about the weather. Let it snow. Let it do its worst. They were safe inside.

  When they awoke in the morning, the snow was still falling, and it continued throughout the day. Jake stayed inside, studying his German lesson book and not seeming to mind the forced imprisonment.

  By evening the outside world seemed completely shut down, and still the snow fell. Jake raised the question that had just occurred to Hannah at nearly the same time.

  “Do you think there will be church tomorrow?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. She walked to the front window and looked out. It was hard for her to imagine how a buggy could get through the drifts piled in the yard, let alone those on the road.

  “I wonder how we will know?” Jake thought out loud.

  “Do people ever stay home from church here?” Hannah wondered aloud. Rarely in Indiana did such a thing happen. The roads were usually plowed before a person had time to decide to stay home. Montana, though, was strange country, Hannah reminded herself. This was definitely not Indiana.

  “I guess it depends,” Jake said. “I’m going over to Steve and Betty’s to find out.”

  “No, Jake, don’t,” she said firmly. “It’s too late in the day. You could get stuck in those drifts, and it will be dark before long.”

  “Well, maybe you’re right,” he said, bending to her logic. “I guess we’ll just have to wait until morning.”

  Hannah thought the problem was solved and rose to prepare supper.

  “I’m going to see Mr. Brunson,” Jake said suddenly a few minutes later.

  “Now?” she asked from the kitchen.

  “He might be having trouble,” Jake said. “Someone should check up on him.”

  “You just have the itch to get out of the house, that’s all.”

  “I suppose that’s part of it,” Jake said with a grin, but Hannah could tell it was more than that. And since she too was concerned about Mr. Brunson, she made no further objection.

  “Just don’t get stuck,” she said as Jake bundled up. “I’ll have supper ready by the time you get back.”

  Watching Jake struggle through the snow troubled Hannah, but she comforted herself with the knowledge that it would take a lot to stop Jake or even slow him down. He took huge strides up the slope, tracking back and forth to avoid the worse drifts, but made good time.

  When he got back almost an hour later, he looked happier than when he left. The time outside of the cabin in the elements had done him good.

  “No problems,” Jake said. “The old man seems well settled in. He has plenty of wood and food. He said he doesn’t need to get out till spring, if necessary.” Jake laughed at the thought.

  “Did he say anything about his son?” Han
nah asked. “Has he heard from him?”

  “No…at least he didn’t say anything to me about him,” Jake said and then turned to another subject. “While I still have my coat on, I’m going out to the end of the driveway for the mail.”

  “For the mail?” Hannah asked in astonishment. “Surely no mailman went out today. Besides, supper’s almost ready.”

  “They probably plowed the main road. We have all night for supper. There’s not much daylight left. If there is mail, I want to get it before dark.”

  “You’ll get stuck. Really, you will.”

  “I also want to see the main road—see if it’s as bad as it is at Mr. Brunson’s. Maybe the roads aren’t plowed after all.”

  “The mailman hasn’t come. You’re just wasting your time.”

  “I’ve got it to waste,” he said, already partway out the cabin door.

  This time Hannah didn’t watch him go. If he could make it up the mountain, he surely could make it down to the main road. But then as darkness fell and Jake hadn’t come back yet, she began to worry a little. This time there was no church business that could be keeping him away. Instead, visions of Jake stuck in a snow bank flashed through her mind.

  With supper ready and spread on the table, she looked out the window for some sign of Jake. Surely he ought to be back by now. His tracks were still visible in the snow, blown over a little but there. What were not there were any return tracks.

  Hannah sighed and went back to the kitchen, where she tried to occupy herself. When she realized the supper would soon be cold, she began to worry more about Jake. He knew supper was nearly ready. What on earth could happen on a walk to the end of the road?

  She stuck her face out the cabin door and was startled by the sharp chill in the air. Apparently the temperature had fallen rapidly. Her emotions swung from irritation with Jake to genuine concern that something might have happened.

  Finally she knew she had to do something. There was no phone to call out with and the thought of a trek to call on Mr. Brunson for help was abandoned when she realized that the hike up there would be as arduous as the hike out to the road. Besides, it might accomplish nothing—Mr. Brunson was old and could hardly be expected to traipse through such large snowdrifts.