A Baby for Hannah (Hannah's Heart 3)

by Jerry S. Eicher

  “I’m so sorry,” Hannah repeated, standing up to give Mr. Brunson a hug.

  “Well, so am I.” Mr. Brunson found his handkerchief and blew his nose before walking out the door.

  Twenty-One

  Hannah watched Jake’s stooped shoulders as he stood by the front window, staring after the fading lights of Mr. Brunson’s truck. She walked over to join him, slipping her hand into his arm. He lowered his head to rest gently on hers.

  “It’s not your fault,” she whispered.

  “I know. It’s just one of those things that no one can change.”

  “Wouldn’t it be nice if you could?”

  “Sometimes it seems that way, but really, it’s the work of God, and we shouldn’t meddle in His affairs.”

  “But couldn’t Bishop John have made an exception? Mr. Brunson is such a nice old man. You know he wouldn’t have made trouble for anyone. He would love Mary and care for her as good as any Amish man.”

  Jake put his arm over her shoulder. “Bishop John did the right thing. And I told Mr. Brunson it wouldn’t work, so he can’t say that he wasn’t warned.”

  “It’s still so sad. I think he really loves her. If only it could work out for both of them.”

  “It still might,” Jake said, sitting down on the couch, and pulling her down after him. “Maybe he’ll go back east and join an Amish community there. Then after he comes back, Mr. Brunson can ask Mary for her hand.”

  Hannah laughed. “Not even a dreamy-eyed girl like myself believes that’s going to happen.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” Jake sighed. “But our concern right now is what I’m going to tell the bishop tomorrow.”

  “About what?” Hannah asked, stroking Jake’s arm.

  “About whether excommunication should be used against Ben and Sylvia.”

  “You still don’t think it’s the right thing to do?”

  “No, but Bishop John wants it done, and I’m the only minister who disagrees.”

  “Then I would stick with what you feel.”

  “But Hannah, do you have any idea what that could mean? If I’m wrong and a lot of our people leave because of the tent meetings, Bishop John will blame me for having been too soft.”

  “Even so, I want you to do what you think is right.”

  “It could cost us a lot.”

  “I know. And I have a hard time understanding why I feel this way. For a long time I’ve been worried about what people think of your decisions. But the truth is that even more important than what people think is that you’re my husband and I love you. Part of that love is knowing that you do what you think is right. You’re a good man, and a good man stays true to his conscience.”

  “I just want to be sure,” Jake said. “If people leave because we were too easy on Ben and Sylvia, it will bother me too. It’s not just what other people think. It’s realizing that my decision may result in others leaving the faith.”

  “Look, Jake,” Hannah said, running her hand down his beard and playing with his shirt button. “I don’t know how to explain it, but I think you see a lot of bad things happening if excommunication is used. Perhaps things that are a lot worse than losing a few church members. How will you feel if Ben and Sylvia are excommunicated because you give in, and then things turn out badly?”

  His fingers touched her face. “I don’t know.”

  Hannah leaned into Jake. “All I know is you should do what is right. Because if you don’t do what you think is right this time, it will only be harder the next time.”

  “But what if I’m wrong?”

  “Then you’ll be wrong, but I don’t think you are. You feel very strongly about this, don’t you?”

  “I do.” Jake stared out the cabin window at the faint starry sky over the barn roof. “This summer will be over before long, and Ben will likely move on with his tent to other places, but if we overreact and use methods that aren’t right, the bad taste will linger in people’s mouths for a long time. And I couldn’t really live with myself if that happens.”

  “Then there’s your answer, Jake.”

  “But who am I to disagree with Bishop John?”

  “You are a minister, Jake. You didn’t choose this job; it was given to you by Da Hah. Isn’t that good enough?”

  “You are very sweet,” he said, pushing her kapp back and running his fingers through her hair. “I’m constantly amazed that I should be a minister. Or, for that matter, your husband. Da Hah has given me great favor.”

  “And don’t forget, it’s also Da Hah’s opinion that you should be a father. And you will be as good a father as you are a minister and a husband. Don’t ever forget that, Jake.”

  “But we lost our first child, and that was partly my fault.”

  “And mine, but does not Da Hah forgive?”

  “What’s come over you?” Jake asked, searching Hannah’s eyes. “Don’t you have any fears about this pregnancy?”

  “I have them all the time, but I believe we have been given grace, and that you will have a son this fall, Jake. Won’t that be wonderful?”

  “It will be very wonderful,” Jake said, pulling her tight against himself. “A son or a daughter will be a delight.”

  After a few seconds, Hannah wiggled out of his embrace.

  “Don’t you think it’s time you forgot about church things for awhile? I’m going to write Mom this evening. Why don’t you write to yours?”

  A shadow crossed his face. “You know Mom and Dad have never written back, except for that one short letter Mom wrote early this spring. She didn’t say much. What could I have done to offend them?”

  “Nothing that I know of. They did come to our wedding, and they were happy then, so I’d keep trying,” Hannah said, ruffling his hair.

  “I just don’t know.”

  “You can preach so wonderfully; I’m sure your letters will be great too. You have a way with words.”

  “I’m not going to preach to my parents.”

  “I didn’t mean that,” Hannah said, crossing the room to bring him paper and a pen.

  “I’ll try,” Jake smiled weakly as she handed them to him.

  “You can write at the desk, and I’ll go out to the kitchen.”

  “Go then,” Jake said, waving his hand.

  Hannah kissed him and left him sitting on the couch. He might have to think awhile before he thought of what to say, but he would write. And it would be good.

  Seating herself at the table in the kitchen Hannah pulled the kerosene lamp closer.

  Dear Mom,

  I’m sure Miriam has already written you about her arrival out here, and what all has happened since.

  Miriam has been such a blessing to everyone since she has arrived. I want to keep her out here forever—and not just until the bobli comes. She is like a breath of sunshine in the middle of the rain, and it is raining out here in the church world.

  I suppose Miriam has told you all about her newfound love. Dennis Riley is a wonderful boy, I guess. Jake seems to think he’s okay and won’t be affected by his brother Will’s possible decision to leave the church. I can only hope he’s right because Miriam has lost her heart and then some to this boy. You ought to see her smile, Mom. I have never seen her like this.

  Jake is very worried about church matters around here, as are the other ministers. There are Mennonite revival meetings coming to our town this summer, and already they are causing trouble. The bishop wants to use excommunication against Ben and Sylvia Stoll, who left the church last year, as Ben is the one promoting the meetings. Jake doesn’t think that’s right. I don’t know much about such things, but it seems very important to Jake.

  One thing I do know: I don’t want him to agree with Bishop John just to go along. Not if it’s that important to Jake. I don’t know exactly why, but maybe it has something to do with the bobli coming. How that’s possible, I don’t know. But it feels like our son should have a father who does what he feels is right.

  Jake thinks th
ere will be much trouble for us if he doesn’t agree with Bishop John on this matter, so maybe you can pray for us. I get a sinking feeling every time I think of Jake having to support something he believes is wrong. I know I would still love him, but it seems like there would be less man there to love. Does that make any sense?

  I don’t want to be selfish with him, Mom, I really don’t. I try to give him all the time he needs to do the things in church on Sundays. He doesn’t take that much time to study unless he’s doing it while he reads his Bible in the evenings. Yet Jake still can preach sermons that bless many people.

  You may have to burn this letter if I tell you this, but it’s so funny. Betty has hidden Steve’s old generator out in the haymow, and she uses it to run her cream separator. I haven’t told Jake because I don’t want him to wrestle with the issue. He likes Betty, but my guess is he would talk to her or Steve, which would bring it to a stop. I think it’s cute that Betty can get away with things like that. I would like to do things like that but lack the courage. Betty wouldn’t quite be Betty without pulling off things like that.

  Kendra said her dad claims Betty has always done things like this, and that he has given up on changing her. Steve said as long as she doesn’t want to leave the Amish, and keeps her electric cream separator out in the barn, then it’s her own risk.

  Betty might have told you, but in case she hasn’t, Kendra is dating Henry, Mary Keim’s youngest boy. There’s other news on Mary Keim, but I don’t think I should write about it. It’s sad, but it’s not about anything Mary is doing, so don’t worry.

  I have a doctor’s appointment soon with Dr. Lisa. She is the same doctor I used last time, and I remember her saying last year there would be a birthing clinic coming to Libby. I’ll have to ask about it. The other option of course is a midwife. They have one that everyone likes. She’s a Mennonite and drives in from Bonner’s Ferry.

  I’m starting to show, Mom, and it’s the most awesome feeling. Soon it will be obvious when we go to church that I’m carrying Jake’s child. Did you always feel this way with us or does it only happen the first time a mom-to-be gets this close? I hope the feeling comes every time!

  I told Jake he needs to write his parents tonight, so that’s what he’s doing. They haven’t had much to do with us since we married. It makes me feel funny sometimes because I think it might be my fault. I can’t imagine why that would be though. Did I do something to offend them? But then you wouldn’t know unless it’s something really obvious. If it’s that, surely Betty would have told me about it.

  I need to close. It’s late and we need our sleep. I think Jake has to preach tomorrow, so I’d better go in and see how his letter is coming along.

  I love you, Mom.

  Your daughter, Hannah

  Folding the paper, Hannah walked into the living room and lightly placed her hands on Jake’s shoulders. He had his head bowed over his paper, and his cheeks were wet when she touched his face.

  “Jake,” she murmured, “what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” he whispered, his voice catching. “I was writing the letter, that’s all. Do you want to read it?”

  “But it’s not very long,” she said, glancing at the paper.

  “It’s all I can think to say,” he said, placing the page in her hand.

  She read silently.

  Dear Mom and Dad,

  Blessings in the name of the Lord.

  Hannah and I are doing well, and the coming bobli is still healthy, for which we are very thankful. Hannah has a doctor’s appointment soon, but we expect there will be no complications.

  I am writing this letter largely because I am wondering about our relationship. I know that I have not always been the son I should have been when I was growing up. I left home twice without much concern for your feelings on the matter. I hope you don’t think this was because of rebellion or because I held anything against you. It was simply a time when I was trying to sort out my thoughts and feelings about things.

  Hannah has been a great blessing to me, and I know she holds nothing against either of you, as she hardly knows you. Is there a problem between us? Do you feel like we are ignoring you? If you do feel so, we apologize, as this is not our intention.

  I know our child will not be your first grandchild, but it will still be yours. Hannah and I want both of you to feel welcome in our home and feel like this grandchild belongs in the family.

  If I have done anything to offend you, please forgive me. Hannah also sends her greetings and hopes you can visit us sometime—or perhaps we can make a trip to Iowa soon.

  Your son, Jake

  Hannah let the page drop back onto the desktop. “You are so sweet,” she whispered. “Da Hah knows I don’t deserve you.”

  Twenty-Two

  Hannah drove Mosey toward town, slapping the reins repeatedly when he slowed. Why did the horse have to be so slow this morning when she was especially in a hurry? Enough peaches for one cooker full sat in the springhouse waiting to be done after the doctor’s appointment. Miriam had offered to help days earlier, but the peaches weren’t on the market then, and now Miriam was busy with her duties at the stable.

  Pulling in Betty’s driveway, Hannah slowed down to wait for two riders who were slowly walking their horses toward the trail. Miriam stood beside the barn, watching until they disappeared into the trees. Turning toward the buggy, she approached at a fast walk as Hannah climbed down.

  “Good morning!” Hannah said. “I hope I didn’t disturb your riders.”

  “Of course you didn’t,” Miriam said, smiling broadly. “The horses are really good about vehicles pulling in, although it does disturb the riders’ nerves at times. They must think all horses spook for the slightest reason.”

  “So are you having any other problems with the riders or the horses? I haven’t heard much since you moved over here.”

  Miriam glanced toward the house. “It’s not the riders or the horses. I can handle those. It’s the looks from Betty I get when I bring Dennis home on Sunday evenings. It sends chills up and down my spine.”

  Hannah laughed. “You’re still welcome to use our cabin for your dates. Jake and I can sit in the spare bedroom.”

  Miriam smiled. “I think Betty’s finally getting a little used to Dennis, so we will hope for the best. I don’t really want to inconvenience you and Jake anymore than I already have.”

  “It wouldn’t be a bother, really. Betty does need to learn not to meddle.”

  “Like that’s going to happen. Didn’t she interfere with you and Jake when you were dating?”

  “Jah, but it wasn’t all her fault.”

  “All I hear from Betty is how dangerous it can be to marry a man who wants to leave the church. How we only have one chance at marriage so we can’t afford to mess it up. She points at Rebecca as her example, and I must say that is a good point, but I can’t stop loving the man. I just can’t, Hannah. And he’s not leaving the church. I asked him again Sunday night and he said he wasn’t. Dennis said he never plans to, regardless of what his brother might do.”

  “Do you believe him? I mean, Dennis could just be saying so.”

  “You don’t know Dennis like I do,” Miriam said. “He’s so honest, so open about his beliefs, so quick to defend the faith, and he’s gut for me, Hannah.”

  “And handsome.”

  “Oh Hannah, quit saying that. I want to marry him. I really do. I’d say yes today if he asked me.”

  “I knew you had fallen pretty hard, but shouldn’t you take things a little slower?”

  “At least you don’t sound totally like Betty. I don’t know if I could stand it, if you were as strong against Dennis as Betty is.”

  “Maybe I should be, maybe I’m not thinking in your best interests.”

  “Don’t say that,” Miriam pleaded. “Please don’t say that. You are being the most wonderful sister possible, and one Betty in the family is enough, thank you very much.”

  Hannah laughed. “What ha
s Mom said about all this? Have you heard from her? I wrote some time ago but haven’t gotten a letter back yet.”

  “I received a letter this morning,” Miriam said. “It wasn’t an okay, but it wasn’t a no either.”

  “Maybe you should let me read the letter. My judgment isn’t as clouded as yours.”

  “I guess my judgment probably is clouded,” Miriam agreed as she pulled the letter out of her dress pocket. “But Dennis is so wonderful. Oh Hannah, I can’t lose him. I just can”t!

  “If it’s Da Hah’s will, then you won’t, and I think there’s a big test coming up to show you what Dennis is made of. Are your eyes still open enough to see?”

  “You mean the Mennonite tent meetings?” Miriam asked as she handed Hannah the letter.

  “Jah, that’s what I mean. And I hope you’re not thinking about going with Dennis if he changes his mind and wants to go.”

  “I wouldn’t,” Miriam said, turning her eyes to the ground. “Not even if it would tear out my heart, and smash all my dreams into tiny, tiny pieces. I’m not leaving the church.”

  “You wouldn’t leave for love?”

  “What is love if you don’t see eye-to-eye on matters of faith?”

  “Those are awfully brave words. Are you sure you could tell Dennis no?”

  “I don’t know,” Miriam said, grabbing Hannah’s arm. “I know what my head tells me, but the man has stolen my heart—all of it. I don’t know how I would ever get it back again.”