Authors: Jerry S. Eicher
Tags: #Romance, #Amish, #Christian, #Married people, #Fiction, #Christian Fiction, #Montana, #Amish - Montana, #General, #Religious, #Love Stories
She had supper ready at the regular time, but Jake ate little, silently pushing the food around on his plate.
Later, they read by the light of the lantern, its hiss quickly drew Hannah into sleepiness and away from her troubles. She glanced at Jake and guessed he felt the same way. At her suggestion they went to bed early, and Hannah hoped the extra sleep would do them good.
In the morning Jake got up first. While Hannah was still asleep, he quietly came back into the bedroom to tell her that a light dusting of snow had fallen in the night. He stayed by the bedroom window until Hannah joined him. Together they looked out at the snow—and the marks of the grizzly’s night visit.
“I didn’t know those tracks were there,” Jake said as if he was sorry he roused her. “I didn’t hear anything in the night. Did you?”
Hannah shook her head.
“That might be the last of it,” Jake said and sounded as if he knew something about the habits of bears. Hannah had forgotten to tell him the news Mr. Brunson brought. At this moment she hoped both the game warden and Jake were right about the matter.
The snow quickly disappeared once the sun came out. Hannah, not yet ready for winter, was glad to see it melt. The thought of a howling whiteout surrounded by mountains intimidated her.
As they drove to church the next morning, she asked Jake, “Winter’s coming early this year, isn’t it?”
He shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know the country well enough to tell for sure.”
She didn’t press the subject because Jake was not in his best mood. With many of the odd jobs around the house finished, he sat around with nothing much to do most of yesterday. Thankfully, today they had someplace to go.
Church was being held in the house, but because the other buggies had already gathered in the yard, Jake couldn’t get close enough to the walks to let Hannah out. So Jake brought Mosey to a stop in front of the barn.
“This is as close as I can get,” he said apologetically.
“It’s all right,” she said. A quick walk in to the house wasn’t something she found disagreeable. The knowledge she would soon see Betty quickened her step.
Her aunt was already in the kitchen when Hannah walked in. She made her way around the circle of women, greeting each in turn. When she reached Betty, she felt the urge to whisper news of their troubles but decided not to. It might be considered disrespectful to talk too long even with a relative since other women were in line behind her.
Betty seemed to sense Hannah’s thoughts and squeezed her hand before she let go. There would be time to talk after church during Sunday lunch. Hannah was surprised when the line of women began to move almost immediately toward the living room. She hadn’t realized they’d arrived that late. Young couples without children had no reason to be late for church.
She caught sight of the clock on the wall—it revealed the time to be five till nine. Somewhere she and Jake must have misjudged the time. As the line moved forward, she took her place near the end, almost the last one before the young unmarried girls started.
Only Sylvia Stoll was behind her. She had married Ben Stoll a month after Hannah married Jake. She had met Ben during her summer stays with Betty, when she thought of him as the scarred logger. His obvious interest in Hannah hadn’t gone anywhere. A few months later, Ben had found Sylvia in Iowa, and they were married. It looked to Hannah as if they were a well-matched couple, both were a rugged type and well-suited for this country.
Not like Jake and me,
she thought with a shiver.
Maybe we’re out of place in this wild country.
She stilled her thoughts as she sat down, shifting her weight on the hard bench.
Beside her Sylvia sat without any motion. Hannah wondered if Sylvia also had a secret pregnancy, but she, of course, couldn’t ask such a thing. That she and Jake had a baby coming was joy enough.
The song leader announced his selection in a loud baritone, his voice reaching throughout the house. It was strange how the babies upstairs didn’t wake up from the pronouncement, or perhaps they just quickly got used to it. Her child too would get used to it, their life, and also their ways. She smiled but only inwardly. This was, after all, church.
Hannah wasn’t surprised when Jake led out in the next song. He was such a good singer that he got his turn on a regular basis.
She listened to his voice with admiration—such depth of emotion as he sang. He held the notes to their proper length and swung them up and down as expertly as she had ever heard anyone do. This was her man and half the source of the life growing within her. Thrilled at the thought, she hoped Sylvia couldn’t read the joy on her face.
Here in church, surrounded by these people, she had forgotten the storm clouds that gathered at home. Even now as she remembered the thoughts, they didn’t sting quite as much. Jake, if he could sing like that, would find some way to keep things going. If not, then maybe he would decide they should move back East. It was an option they both understood, Hannah was sure.
Yet, the thought of a move brought a pang of regret, more so than it had at home. But she must face reality. She was sure even Betty would agree.
The two ministers, led by Bishop Nisley, came down the stairs soon after Jake finished and found their places on the bench up front. There was nothing unusual about the sermons and nothing to indicate anything out of the ordinary.
After testimonies, Bishop Nisley got to his feet, his eyes intense, and said, “Will the members please stay. The rest are dismissed.” There was nothing unusual in that either because this was pre-communion church. The surprise was yet to come.
All the nonmembers filed out, mostly children and some young people, followed by several women who would prepare lunch. For the next hour, Bishop proceeded to go through the written and unwritten rules of the
Ordnung
briefs
.
Some of the session was just lecture, some of it a reminder of broken rules, and some of it a question of whether new rules should be added.
Bishop said there was a question raised over how long newly purchased homes could keep their electric power. A reasonable amount of time was allowed now—two years—Bishop thought, and he received nodded agreement from several of the men. This allowance was intended to reduce the financial hardship caused by the transfer, especially for young couples.
But some believed the two years allowance was too lax. Should this rule be amended to one year? The extra time might simply promote complacency and unwanted accommodation to English ways. Several of the men nodded their heads, but several others didn’t look too happy with that idea either.
In the questions and vote that followed, the proposed change raised enough objections that Bishop cancelled the move. He stated that the time allowed would remain two years. Hannah felt relief. Though she and Jake had no electricity left at their place, she didn’t know what the future held, and their own financial hardships made her sensitive to others, such as young Sylvia beside her. Sylvia and Ben’s place still had full electric power, which included lights, and might well be the reason the rule change was brought up. The ministers could be nervous, she thought, when time went on and young couples made no attempt to start the changeover. Yet she didn’t want to prejudge. There might be good reasons Sylvia and Ben hadn’t switched.
Bishop continued with his last remarks. He noted that communion service would be held in two weeks and Bishop Amos Yoder from one of the Nappanee, Indiana, districts would travel here to participate. Afterwards a new minister would be ordained. That was, of course, if there was no objection from the congregation, which there wasn’t. A quick vote confirmed the matter.
The announcement of an ordination was the surprise. Bishop dropped the news just like that—no warning, no preparation, just the cold hard facts. Several of the men shifted on their seats, and a few women suddenly became very interested in their children. The new minister could be anyone from among them, provided he was male, preferably married, and in good standing as a member.
Hannah felt a chill because Jake qualified. But surely he was a long shot at best. He was simply too young for such a position. Although he could sing very well, that didn’t translate into minister material. As for exactly what did translate into minister material, she didn’t know. Nobody did for that matter. There was no set pattern, no guideline, and no attention paid to speaking ability, elegance in bearing, or commanding presence. The only requirements were those read from the Scriptures. Those, of course, fit most of the men in church.
The tension subsided as church dismissed. If any of the men felt like the executioner’s ax was poised over their necks, the feelings got lost in creamy peanut butter sandwiches, hard cheese, and the crunch of sweet dill pickles.
Betty found Hannah after the first table setting was through. “Did you like our snowfall?” she asked in a teasing voice.
“I do if it somehow scared away our bear,” Hannah whispered. She didn’t want the news to spread too far.
“It should,” Betty said. “Did you get the pressure cooker to work?” Betty whispered now, obviously trying to keep the accident a secret between them. “I did write to your mother about it.”
“Yes,” Hannah said with a grimace. “I finally got enough nerve to go back into the kitchen.”
“I imagine that took courage,” Betty said, “but it could happen to anyone.”
“I suppose so,” Hannah allowed and then got to the news she really wanted to share. “Jake lost his job.”
“You don’t say!” Betty was all sympathy. “Has he found anything else?”
“Not yet. He went to the hardware store on Friday. They’re not hiring until the snowy weather settles in.”
“More snow brings in the skiers,” Betty said. “What are you doing till then?”
“Jake will think of something,” Hannah said, more confidence in her voice than in her thoughts.
“I hope so. Let us know if it gets too rough.”
“I will,” Hannah said and meant it but wondered if she would actually have the courage to ask for help. To beg was an embarrassment, no matter the reason.
“Will your parents be staying with you?” Betty asked.
Hannah knew why she had asked. Betty wanted her to share Kathy. But Hannah wanted her mother with her the whole week and said, “Yes. They’ll be with us the whole week.”
“Well, how about supper at least?” Betty asked. “I’ll have to steal them a little. You’ll come over for supper one of those nights, won’t you?”
“Of course,” Hannah agreed quickly, delighted at the invitation.
“What do you think of the minister thing?” Betty whispered.
“Surprising,” Hannah said because it was true and because the answer seemed safe to say. Any discussion of the subject wasn’t considered good form, and she hoped Betty wouldn’t go any further.
“There’s Steve now,” Betty said. “I’d better get ready to go.”
“Will you be at the singing?” Hannah asked, thinking she and Jake might go. If nothing else, it would get them out of the house. If Betty and Steve went, Jake might be easier to persuade.
“I don’t think so,” Betty said, already moving toward the kitchen to pick up her wrap.
Ten minutes later Hannah saw Jake hitch the horse and joined him at the buggy.
They drove home in silence. Jake made no mention of the day’s events, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.
“Do you want to go to the singing?” she asked.
Jake shook his head just as Hannah expected.
During the first two days of the week, Jake made some repairs to the springhouse to make it even more secure from the bear. On Wednesday, he headed back into Libby to look for work. How Jake expected to find work as an Amish man in the
Englisher
world, Hannah wasn’t certain. It seemed to her an impulse-driven move, born of desperation, but she admired him for his persistence. At least he wasn’t sitting around the house moping.