by Dalia Wright
The salty trail of tears across Hannah’s cheek stung when a bitter breeze blew up against them impishly. The smell of rain came along with it.
“I do trust in Gott,” she said. “I just don’t understand what is going on.”
“Marriage is hard,” Miriam said, looking across the fields with a wistful expression. “There are times Attlee and I have our rows over things, but he trusts in Gott’s plan. I’m sorry to hear that your mann is having a spiritual crisis.”
Hannah didn’t even bother correcting that it wasn’t Wayne who was having a spiritual crisis. It was herself. Three years of her life had gone by, and nothing seemed to fit into place just right as it did for Miriam or even Sarah.
The steady plop of horse hooves through the gusty wind interrupted their conversation. Attlee tipped his hat to Hannah with a friendly smile.
“Afternoon, Hannah,” he said. “I had a feeling I would find you two out here walking. Miriam has been taking long walks recently.”
“Only in hopes this bobli will come soon,” Miriam replied.
“There is a storm coming,” Attlee said, pointing to the dark clouds twisting above them. “You best get in before the rain starts to pour. It’ll be a cold rain.”
“I’m going to walk back,” Hannah said.
“Don’t be silly,” Miriam said. “It’ll rain before you even get there.”
Hannah forced an assuring smile on her face. “You two go on. This walk was a gut idea for me to clear my head.”
She watched as Attlee helped up a hesitant Miriam into the buggy seat next to him. The kind gesture brought tears to Hannah’s eyes again, but she blinked them away when Miriam turned to look at her one last time.
“Are you sure?”
“Ja. Go on. Ma would have my head if you caught a cold from the rain and walking with me.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
Attlee tipped his hat at Hannah, giving the reigns a stern flick. She stood in the middle of the road for a moment to watch them go before slowly making her way back to her parents’ haus. The swirling clouds above threatened to unleash a fury of rain, but Hannah kept her pace slow and steady. Storms didn’t bother her anymore as they used to.
Her hopes of a quiet walk back home were interrupted by the honk of a car horn behind her. Startled by the noise, she turned to give the car a confused look as it drove up beside her slowly. It wasn’t entirely unusual to see cars driving along the back roads, but Hannah didn’t know anyone who owned a car since her rumspringa years back.
To her surprise, it was Mason Smith sitting behind the wheel of the car. He frowned up at her in concern.
“You startled me,” Hannah said.
“Sorry,” Mason replied. “Do you need a ride home? It’s going to downpour at any moment.”
She pictured her parents’ faces upon arriving home in a car with an English man who was not her mann. Hannah shook her head politely at him. “Danka, but my parents’ haus is right there. I can make it there before the rain starts.”
To prove her point, Hannah picked up the pace when she felt a fat rain drop splatter on top of her kapp. The coldness seeped through her hair.
“If you’re sure,” Mason said, glancing up at the clouds. “I’d hate to see you get drenched. This storm is going to be cold and rainy with some strong downpours.”
A stab of irritation went through her. The last thing she needed to deal with was her parents’ and church’s disapproval over getting into a car with an English man.
“I’ll be fine,” Hannah said. “Really. I will be.”
Mason glanced up at the clouds one last time before shrugging his shoulders. “Okay, suit yourself. I’ll make sure you’ll get to your parents’ house okay then.”
“Why?” Hannah asked.
He gave her a confused look. “Because it’s a friendly thing to do?”
Hannah sighed inwardly at her rudeness. She really was in desperate need of a cup of hot tea and some sleep. Mason was only trying to be a gentleman about it.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to sound rude. I’ll wave to you from the front porch.”
She turned down the road stretching back to her parents’ haus. True to her word, Hannah turned to give Mason a wave from the front porch step. The car honked twice in return before continuing down the road.
The front door opened a moment later.
“Who was that?” John asked.
“It was Mason Smith,” Hannah said. “I went for a walk with Miriam, and he waited for me to get home before the rain.”
John looked up at the skies with a frown. “Gut thing you are home now. The rain will be chilly.” He paused before stepping back through the front door. “Be careful, Hannah. I do not wish to see your heart be led astray from your faith.”
The patter of rain on the porch roof followed his words. Hannah stared up at the grey skies, and watched the rain streak down to the ground into chilly puddles. Her heart was already astray before Mason Smith came along.
Chapter Four
Mason Smith seemed to be everywhere the following days. No matter where Hannah turned, he appeared like a shadow on a hot summer day. His appearances were unsettling while flattering at the same time. There was no denying that Mason Smith was an attractive man from his ruggedly kept appearance. She even heard a few whispers from among her Amish community repeating those words.
The streets were covered in rain puddles and yellow leaves from the trees when Hannah ventured up to the post office to send a letter to Wayne. Neither one of them had made any effort to contact one another since their brief call the day after she had arrived, but Hannah was determined to keep their marriage intact even from afar. A small part of her wondered why she was sending a letter when Wayne was never the one to write back or say much.
She slipped the envelope into the drop-off box right as Mason stepped out from the post office. He looked up from thumbing through a couple of envelopes to see her before Hannah could even formulate a plan to run away.
“Hi, Hannah,” he said, flashing a smile that showed off a set of white teeth. “What are you doing here?”
“I was mailing a letter,” Hannah replied. “What are you doing here?”
Mason held up a stack of envelopes with a small grin. “Checking to see if I have any letters.”
“Oh.”
An awkward silence followed.
“Are you on your way back to your father’s store?” Mason asked.
“I am,” Hannah said.
“Great. I’ll walk with you then.”
She opened her mouth to politely decline, but thought better of it. Not wishing to sound rude, Hannah followed him uneasily back down a rain soaked Main Street in the direction of her daed’s store. They walked in silence for a moment before Mason turned to smile at Hannah.
“So, your father told me that you’re visiting from Pennsylvania,” he said.
“I am,” Hannah said.
“How long are you visiting for?”
“For a few months. I wanted to stay here for a while with my sister to help with the new baby.”
“No husband?” Mason asked, curiously.
Hannah tensed at the question. She didn’t know how to respond to it exactly. Everyone in her community knew that she had a mann, and was visiting from Lancaster, but an English man like Mason wouldn’t know of it. Her community was warm and welcoming to the Englischers since most of their businesses were successful from a steady flow of customers from the town, but their church was private to them. Marriage was private.
“He lives in Pennsylvania,” Hannah said, softly.
Something flashed across Mason’s eyes. It was too fleeting for Hannah to read. They stopped in front of Mason’s store as he unlocked the door, flipping the sign to NOW OPEN.
“I didn’t meant to pry,” he said, abruptly. “I just-I guess I just assumed that you weren’t married because your father never said, and there isn’t a wedding ring.”
&nb
sp; She blinked in confusion. Did that mean Mason was interested in her if he had been wondering if she were married? The thought filled Hannah with a slight giddiness before she stomped that feeling down. This was an English man saying these things, and she was married to Wayne in the eyes of Gott. She shouldn’t be flattered by such notions, but it was hard to deny it at the same time.
“It’s fine,” Hannah said. “Have a gut day.”
“Wait.”
Hannah stopped in mid-step to look at Mason in confusion. He fiddled with the stack of envelopes in his hand before looking up at Hannah. Fidgeting underneath the intensity of his stare, she finally looked away self-consciously.
“Never mind,” Mason mumbled out. “I’m sorry for keeping you. Have a good day as well. Send regards to your father for me.”
“I will.”
Mason opened the door, a cheerful jingle of the bell echoing. He nodded to Hannah before closing it behind himself gently.
She took the back streets, a longer route, back to her daed’sstore. The cold October air plucked impishly at the skirts of her dress while the boom of thunder rolled through the valley again. It was unusual to hear thunderstorms so late in the year, but it kept the ground moist until they could harvest next weekend. Her parents’ garden was brimming with vegetables that would keep them full until the summer season, but they would sell half at the Farmers Market next weekend.
Hannah let out a shaky breath as she walked along the rain-soaked roads. What was wrong with her? Never had she felt such an attraction to an English man. During her rumspringa years, she had only kissed one English boy on a dare while visiting the city with a group of friends. Even Wayne had never stirred this type of longing out of her. There was always love and respect, but not the type of love that sometimes Hannah dreamed of at night.
She sighed as looked up at the overcast sky. While the autumn season was easily her favorite season, at that moment she longed for the warmth of the sun. More than anything, Hannah longed for Gott to help her understand what was going on in her life. Why was this tempting English man suddenly in her path?
It had to be a test of faith, Hannah decided, as she reached her daed’s store. She didn’t know why, but it was the only thing that seemed reasonable given the situation Hannah found herself in. She missed her mann more than anything, the mann who had looked at her with a sparkle in his eye before the years had gone by. Now, she was attracted to an English man who seemed determined to be everywhere she turned.
Chapter Five
That night Hannah dreamt of a crying bobli nestled in the crook of her arm. No matter how much she rocked or soothed, the bobli continued to cry until its tiny cheeks were blue. Her desperation only mounted when the bobli choked until she no longer heard any sound. Panic tore at Hannah’s heart as she frantically patted the bobli on the back until she realized the blankets in her hands were now empty. The familiar emptiness filled Hannah’s heart as tears slipped down her cheeks. From within the blankets, she held up a small outfit, a pair of black trousers and small shirt, when an abrupt knock pierced through the dream.
Hannah sat up with a gasp of air. The knocking at her bedroom door continued harshly.
“Hannah?” Her maemm called out urgently. “Wake up. It’s Miriam.”
She blinked away the uneasy feeling the dream had given her while pushing the blankets back from her bed. Stumbling through the thick darkness of her room, Hannah found the door handle to open it.
Ruth stood on the other side of the door with an oil lamp held above her head. Her face was pale as a ghost as she looked at Hannah with a grim expression.
“What is it?” Hannah asked, the bottom of her stomach twisting in dread. “Is something wrong with Miriam?”
“I’m not sure,” Ruth replied. “The midwife just arrived ten minutes ago to tell us that she had taken Miriam to the hospital. There is — ” Her voice hitched slightly, and fear crept into her maemm’s composed eyes. “Something is very wrong. I don’t know what is going on, but your daed and I are hitching up the buggy right now.”
The same type of panic from Hannah’s dream echoed in her heart now.
“Give me a minute to dress,” she said.
“Hurry while I wake Sarah,” Ruth said, turning to Sarah’s closed door.
Hannah shut her bedroom door before lighting her own oil lamp. Her heart beat painfully as she slipped back into her dress as quickly as possible, and pinned her hair up messily beneath her kapp.
Her sister opened her bedroom door the moment that Hannah opened hers.
“What is going on?” Sarah asked, anxiously.
“I don’t know. Ma says the midwife brought Miriam to the hospital.”
They hurried through the cold darkness of the night to the barn where a faint bit of light flickered from an oil lamp. Hannah prayed as she climbed into the back of the buggy with Sarah right behind her. The black wind tore at them as their daed urged their beloved mare into a fast trot. No matter how hard Hannah prayed, the darkness of the night settled heavily on her shoulders. Something was horribly wrong, and she felt it deep within her heart.
The hospital was illuminated with bright lights when Hannah followed her parents into a room with chairs and couches. Attlee looked up at them, his eyes blood-shot while the rest of his face was pale.
“What is going on?” Hannah asked, taking a seat next to him. “How is Miriam?”
“I-I-I don’t know,” Attlee responded, his voice thick with tears. “Miriam woke me a few hours ago to go fetch the midwife. So, I left to get Martha from her haus, and we found Miriam on the floor when we returned.”
“What did Martha say?” Ruth asked. She took the other seat next to Attlee. “She must’ve known something if she knew to take Miriam here.”
Attlee cupped his head in distress. “I’m not sure. All Martha told me was that Miriam’s heart rate was too high. She passed out because of it. The English doctors said it was some sort of complication that needed their attention right away. They haven’t said anything else since then.”
“We are here for you, son,” John said, cupping Attlee’s shoulder. “Let us pray for Gott’s protection over Miriam and strength for ourselves.”
They bowed their heads to listen to John’s words, but Hannah found herself looking up to see Martha speaking with three English doctors dressed in scrubs in the lobby. Martha turned to look at them a moment later with an expression that only meant one thing.
Nee, Hannah thought to herself. It wasn’t possible. It was something else that made Martha look at them so grimly.
Hannah’s fingers clutched the hospital chair as Martha approached them, twisting her hands together repeatedly. Thick silence filled the small waiting room as they waited for Martha to speak. Hannah didn’t dare look around to see the expressions on her family’s faces. Tears were already building up in Hannah’s eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Martha said, the pain and regret in her voice clear as a summer day. “The doctors tried everything. Miriam’s blood pressure was too high and there was nothing they could do by the time I came. Miriam and the bobli are gone. They are with Gott now. I’m so sorry.”
Numbness washed over Hannah. Dimly, she heard Sarah let out a cry followed by their maemm, but she couldn’t bring herself to look anywhere else. She stared hard up at Martha, waiting for some other words to be spoken. Not Miriam. Not her sister whose compassion and kindness knew no bounds.
“That’s not possible,” she said, disbelief filling her. “Why would Gott take her and the bobli now?”
“I don’t know,” Martha said. “I wish I had the answer, but they answered the call. They are in Gott’s Kingdom now. Take comfort in that, Hannah.”
For years, Hannah had believed it was possible for her heart to actually break like a bone. Every month that had passed with no sign of a bobli, a tiny fracture appeared on her heart. Staring at the white walls distantly, Hannah felt her entire heart shatter into millions of shards. There was no amount of comfor
t or prayer that could fix that feeling.
Chapter Six
They buried Miriam and the bobli, a little girl Attlee named Ruth, a few days later in the cemetery a few miles away from their community. They buried them beneath the flaming red oak tree that Hannah knew Miriam would love.
Hannah stared down at the patch of dying grass that had been placed over the freshly piled dirt. It was so hard to imagine her beautiful sister buried beneath cold dirt, but at least Ruth was in there with her. At least, they were together with Gott, and not alone in the cold earth.
She half-listened to the Bishop of their church express his sorrows for their loss and offer them comforting words. Even if Martha and Ruth were with Gott now, it still didn’t make the cold afternoon feel any less bone-chilling. It still didn’t ease how broken Hannah’s heart felt.
“I’m going to walk home,” Hannah told her parents afterwards. A few miles of silence, not the constant sniffling from her maemm or Sarah, sounded better than listening to the Bishop or prayers. She needed time alone.
“Are you sure?” her daed asked. “It’s quite a walk back to the haus.”
“I’ll be fine,” Hannah said.
John gave a nod before helping her pale-faced maemm into the buggy along with a somber Sarah.
The trek back to the hauswas a chilly one. Along the way, she prayed quietly to herself. Hannah paused in front of the road leading back to her parents’ haus. Going back home meant facing the sad silence that echoed in their haus, something that Hannah couldn’t fathom facing. More than anything, she wanted to hear Wayne’s voice.
Hannah continued down the road to town, but stopped when she heard horse hooves in the road behind her.
“Where are you going?” Attlee asked.
He sat high in the buggy seat with the leather reigns clutched tightly in his hands. By all appearances, Attlee looked put together from his crisp button-up shirt and black trousers. It was the bags underneath his eyes, and the red tinge in his eyes that suggested otherwise. Attlee barely had looked up during Miriam and bobli Ruth’s funeral.
