A Hope for Hannah (27 page)

“I didn’t have much to do anyway. Just the cabin to take care of,” Hannah assured Betty. “I need the company anyway.”

“I imagine so.” Betty said. “Now, let’s see. If I start the wash, maybe you can do the kitchen?”

“That would be fine,” Hannah matched her words with actions and turned to the kitchen sink. A twist of the knob brought warm water and a feeling of surprise. She forgot how it was to have warm water without heating it on the stove.
I’m quickly becoming a savage and losing the advantage of a civilized lifestyle,
she told herself,
something I’ve known all my life.

“Warm water,” she said, just blurting out her surprise.

“I guess you don’t have that,” Betty said. “When’s Jake going to install a water heater?”

“We seldom talk about it,” Hannah said. “It costs money.”

“That it does. Maybe with the furniture making you can soon afford it.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Hannah said, shrugging. “I think Jake said the plumbing would have to be changed too if hot water was installed. The owners who built the place liked things rough, I guess.”

“Well, I’ll be doing the laundry,” Betty said and disappeared toward the bedrooms.

Moments later the gas motor, which powered the washing machine, started up in Betty’s laundry room. Hannah finished the dishes and then followed Betty outside to help her hang up the first basket of wash.

“You don’t have to help here,” Betty told Hannah when she saw her approach.

“Your hands are cold already,” Hannah replied and blew on her own.

“Yes, they are,” Betty agreed, pushing the wooden snaps onto the line to hold the first piece of clothing in place. Her hands were red from the brisk air and the cold basket.

“I hope this wash doesn’t freeze,” Hannah said.

“I don’t think it will,” Betty said, her teeth chattering. “My, it’s cold, though. I don’t know why it bothers me—guess I’m getting older. The sun will hit the line soon.”

They continued the routine until all the wash was on the line. With Hannah’s help, it went up quickly. After lunch, the sun did its job. Hannah helped bring in the baskets of clothes at about three o’clock, and then Betty insisted she drive her home.

“You have things to do at home before Jake returns, I’m sure.”

Hannah agreed and went to get the horse.

The drive home was pleasant enough, though Hannah could tell it would turn cold again that night. Mr. Brunson’s pickup rattled past as Betty dropped her off in front of the cabin. She wondered how he was doing and whether his son would make contact anytime soon.

“Thanks so much,” Betty said without getting out of the buggy. “I have to be getting back.”

“Thanks for picking me up,” Hannah said. “I needed the company today.”

“We all do from time to time,” Betty said. She then slid the buggy door shut and drove off.

Hannah watched her leave before entering the cabin. The fire had gone out in the stove, and she had to restart it. As it flamed up, she reached for its warmth, glad to be home again.

Thirty

When Jake came home from work, Hannah met him at the door with a smile and a kiss.

“You seem to be in a pretty good mood,” Jake said.

“I spent the day at Betty’s,” she said. “I needed it.”

“We’re blessed to have family close by,” he said. “I have good news too.”

“Oh?” More good news after the day at Betty’s would be like icing on the cake.

“Mr. Howard sold our first table and set of chairs—a full set! Brought in a pretty good price, and the customer loved it. It’s to be shipped back East.”

“Who was it?” Hannah asked.

“I don’t know. A man purchased it for his wife’s dining room.”

“It’ll help with the doctor bills,” Hannah said. “I’m glad, though, it’s working out. I guess God knows we need some good news.”

“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 studied 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.