A Dream for Hannah (6 page)

An hour later the doctor held up the X-ray and said, “There’s a nasty little break in the collarbone. The good news is we can tape you up, and you’re out of here. Just take care of it for a few weeks, and you’ll be okay.”

“No cast for a broken bone?” Kathy asked.

“It’s kind of hard to put a cast on the collarbone,” the doctor explained. “A neck support just rests on the collarbone, so that would make it worse. Sorry, but that’s what we do in these cases.”

At home that evening, Roy found Hannah seated on the couch in silent despair. “You’ve got to quit hurting yourself,” he said. “Can’t you be more careful?”

“Well, if you’d keep that Sam away from me—”

Roy burst out laughing in spite of himself. “Sam had nothing to do with it this time, from what your mother says. She saw the whole thing.”

“It was still him,” Hannah muttered. Big tears gathered in her eyes and slowly spilled down her cheeks. “We were only walking—Honey and me. I don’t know what happened.”

“That’s why we all need to be more careful,” Roy told her. “These medical bills are getting expensive.”

Hannah nodded numbly. “I wish I were a good girl,” she whispered as her father’s back disappeared toward the kitchen. “I try to be.”

Five

One morning a week or so later, after Emma and Miriam had left for school, Kathy said, “I’m off to Nappanee. I’ve had to get some things for a long time already. I think I have a chance today.”

“Can I go along?” Hannah piped up.

“You sure you’re well enough to come along?” Kathy asked. “It hasn’t been that long since you broke your collarbone. The doctor just took the tape off yesterday.”

“I’m fine, Mom,” Hannah assured her. “I really would like to go with you.”

“Okay,” Kathy agreed, “I don’t want to keep you indoors longer than necessary, but you have to be careful.”

“I will,” Hannah said. “Surely I won’t get hurt in town. After all, Sam won’t be around…and I just need to get out.”

“Well, get yourself ready. We’ll leave in half an hour.”

Hannah rushed upstairs to change her clothes and then met her mom out by the barn.

When Kathy opened the back barn door and called to the driving horse, Bob, to come in from the pasture, he lifted his head to look at them and must have decided a short run for freedom wasn’t worth the effort. He slowly made his way to the barn and stood quietly while Hannah held him and Kathy threw the harness on. Bob neighed loudly, apparently hoping for a little grain as a reward for coming in so easily.

“Later,” Kathy said and chuckled. “You eat too slowly. You can have grain when we get back.”

Bob neither understood nor was used to the routine because he jerked his head back and forth a few times before settling down. Once Bob was hitched up, Hannah hopped into the buggy and held the reins while Kathy got in. Not that Bob would have made any problems, but there was always that moment between leaving the front of the horse and mounting the buggy steps when a horse could make a dash for it. With Hannah at the reins, there was no chance of that happening even if Bob had wanted to.

“Off we go,” said Kathy, and she slapped the reins slightly to get Bob moving.

They drove along the main highway toward the town of Nappanee. Although the northern Indiana landscape slowly passed them by, the twenty minute drive into town passed much quicker than they expected. With the clip-clop of the horse’s hooves on the road and the gentle sound of the buggy tires on the pavement, time didn’t seem to matter. Peace settled over both the mind and soul.

Kathy drove carefully as they approached town. She maneuvered through the traffic lights and parked in front of the town’s small farm supply store.

“I’ll be right out,” she told Hannah. “No sense you coming in. This won’t take too long.”

“I don’t want to see anything in there anyway,” Hannah replied, agreeing without regret. “I want to see the dry goods store.”

“I figured so,” Kathy said. “I’ll still tie Bob, so you don’t have to worry about holding the reins.”

Hannah nodded and glanced along the dusty sides of the farm supply building. Several old trucks were parked out in front, and farmers went back and forth between them. A bright blue, spotless sports car was parked to the right, its rear end jacked up with overly large tires and shocks. No one seemed to be around the car, and Hannah wondered who owned it. As if in answer to her question, a side door to the loading dock opened, and out came a blond-headed boy, his features hidden to Hannah.

But as Kathy disappeared into the mill, the boy looked toward the parked buggy, and his face now became fully visible to Hannah.

Peter!

She drew in her breath, and her hands suddenly gripped the reins even with Bob securely tied to the hitching post.
Has he seen me? No, he mustn’t. Not now.

Quickly Hannah pulled her head back so that any view through the flexi-glass windshield would be blurred. Slowly she slid farther back on the seat, and her legs came up tight against the front edge. Even so she could clearly see Peter walk toward the buggy.

With bated breath she waited, knowing there was no escape.

“Hi,” he said and reached out to touch the side of the buggy, his foot raised up to rest on the buggy wheel’s hub. He smiled broadly. “I was hoping it was you when I saw your mom walk in.” He nodded his head toward the mill doorway. “Is she staying long?”

“No,” Hannah told him, “she’ll be right back out.”

“Then I’d best not stay too long,” he grinned. “You’re looking better than you did in the hospital. Are you okay now?”

Hannah just nodded, her voice gone. Peter didn’t seem to be bothered by her silence. “I’m
rumspringa
you know. Did you see my car over there?” His head indicated the direction of the blue, jacked-up sports car. “She’s a beauty—an old MGC with an incline six-cylinder engine all repainted and ready to go. Built in the late sixties. I got it real reasonable from a friend who works at the used car dealership. I’d like to give you a ride sometime.”

Hannah found her voice and replied, “I couldn’t do that. I’m not doing
rumspringa.
Dad’s against all that, and I may never do it.”

“That’s too bad,” he said smiling. “But what does that matter? A few more years and it will all be over for us anyway. Then we have to settle down like the old folks. Why not enjoy being young while we can? I can still give you a ride. A pretty girl like you…in my beautiful car. I would love to have you along at one of the Saturday night gatherings.”

“I don’t think so,” she told him. “Dad and Mom wouldn’t like it.”

“Oh, so Dad’s one of those? Old fashioned—is he? Plans to keep you from having any fun? That’s too bad.” Peter’s brow furrowed as he pondered the situation. “Maybe you could sneak out? Yes? Let’s see, I know where you live. Which is your bedroom window?” He paused, then looked at Hannah, and waited.

She felt her neck grow red. Her face, she was sure, burned quite brightly, but what was there to do? Peter had asked her where her bedroom window was. Should she tell him? A thousand questions chased themselves around in her head.
What would Dad say if he found out? Do I really want to see Peter that way? Would he really come for me?

Hannah considered the safest answers. “I don’t date yet…so why do you want to know where my window is…and what would we do anyway?”

Peter’s face had been blank, but now he slowly began to grin. First appearing at the corners of his mouth, the grin spread sideways until his blond hair was accented by the boyish glee on his face. “I could park the car out by the road—where your dad wouldn’t see me. Then I could sneak in the back way…by those bushes. Then I could throw some pebbles—or something like that—up against the window. You could come out. Wouldn’t that be fun? We could go to a party.”

Wondering how Peter knew so much about her place, she said in a low voice, “I don’t think so. I don’t want to go to a party…like that.”

“Okay, we don’t have to.” His smile was still broad. “I’ll just come in, and we can talk for a little while. That would be fun, right?”

Hannah drew in her breath.
I don’t want to be silly and throw away my chance. He’s a nice boy, and I want to feel in love again. But Dad said to stay away from him, and I should listen to him.

He watched her intently and waited. “Your mother will be back soon.”

“No, I don’t think I can do it,” she said quickly and dropped her gaze to the floor of the buggy.

“Okay,” he said without any change to the tone in his voice. “But I will see you then…sometime. Right, lovely girl? Remember what I said in the hospital.”

Hannah sat in stunned silence. Did that mean he felt the same way she did?

Peter turned and walked briskly back to the grain cart by the loading dock. With the cart in front of him, he disappeared inside just before Kathy came out the door of the mill. She walked to the buggy and glanced up to where a flushed Hannah sat. Kathy quickly turned to look back at the loading dock.

“Was that Peter?” she asked, suspicion in her voice.

Hannah felt her cheeks redden again and nodded.

“Did he talk to you?”

Hannah nodded again.

“What did he say?” Kathy stood by the buggy wheel now.

“Nothing, Mom. Just get in, okay?” Hannah said. Then she added, “Well, he told me about his sports car. It’s the blue one over there.”

Kathy didn’t look convinced. “That’s all he told you? From the look on your face, there must be more. You’re as red as a beet.”

“Come on, Mom,” Hannah protested, already surprised that she wanted to protect Peter. “He did say some other things. They aren’t important.”

Kathy glanced up the street, apparently distracted by the urgency of her day’s schedule. “Well, all right. But just remember what your father said. You’re too young to be talking to boys this way—especially this Peter.”

Hannah nodded. “Okay, but I didn’t start this thing. He did.”

“I know,” Kathy said, sighing. “That’s how boys are. I was just hoping you wouldn’t learn that quite this soon.”

Secretly Hannah wanted to say many things and ask many things, but she didn’t dare. Hadn’t her mother ever felt like this? Did it always feel this good to have a boy talk to you? Could this be an answer to a dream—a dream of having someone love you?

Kathy drove along the street, and Hannah kept her silence. When they came to the dry goods store and parked, Kathy looked hard at her. “You know I’ll have to tell your dad about this.”

“Please don’t,” Hannah pleaded. “Peter talked with me. I didn’t start it.”

“Dad must still be told. That’s all I can say. It wouldn’t be good if he found it out from somewhere else.”

“No, I guess not,” Hannah said, resigned to her fate. She followed her mom out of the buggy and into the store, all the while wondering why a good feeling like this caused so much trouble. The sight of all the wonderful things in this favorite of stores washed the unpleasantness of the earlier encounter away. Rolls and rolls of material lined the walls—colors of all shades, some so beautiful they took one’s breath away. Hannah could see herself in any number of the colors, dresses cut to fit her size, sewn with her mom’s expertise.

“I want this one,” Hannah whispered, barely able to voice the words.

Kathy took a glance but shook her head. “You’re just along today. Look all you want, but you have enough dresses.”

“But this blue…” Hannah moaned.

“That’s a very common color,” Kathy said. “It’s a ‘no’ for today.”