A Hope for Hannah (Hannah's Heart 2)

by Jerry S. Eicher

  Again there was silence before Roy continued.

  “Yet you must remember. Our forefathers—now over five hundred years ago—needed no special training or gift from God. The first one knelt and asked to be baptized as an adult. The others performed the baptism. That was all they had—just the truth and the support of the brethren.”

  “But I am one of the youngest ones,” Jake finally said, his voice shaking. “There are others who are much better.”

  “It makes no difference,” Roy said. “It is God who decides. He is the one who chose David to be king. David was younger than his brothers.”

  “I don’t know,” Jake allowed, but his voice sounded a little stronger to Hannah. Behind her the door opened as Kathy entered, her hands full of the leftovers.

  “Dad’s talking to Jake,” Hannah whispered.

  “Is he doing any good?” Kathy asked.

  “I think so. Anything helps right now.”

  “It’s good Roy is here. He almost didn’t come along for the trip,” Kathy said.

  “Who would have thought something like this would happen?”

  “Not me.” Kathy set the bowls down on the kitchen table. “But you just never know.”

  The old stove was warm by now, and Hannah placed the meat and gravy in the oven. Kathy set the table, the silverware clinking in the silence of the kitchen. Jake’s and Roy’s voices had ceased in the living room.

  “It’ll be a few minutes yet,” Hannah said, more to make conversation than anything.

  “There’s bread yet to slice,” Kathy offered for the same reason.

  “We’ll wait till the food is warm,” Hannah decided as an urge to be with Jake came over her. “We can sit in the living room.”

  “You’re going to have to learn your German better,” Roy said as they walked in.

  Hannah glanced at Jake’s face. He seemed calmer now. His eyes were weary. The sadness was still there, but the fear was gone.

  “Why do you say that?” Jake asked, his voice almost a whisper, as if he were uncertain what lay behind anything.

  Silent now, Roy looked like he wished he hadn’t spoken. He finally managed, “When you preach, you know, it takes more German words than we normally use.”

  Jake absorbed the information, his face blank, and then said, “I guess I’d better start studying, then.”

  “Maybe I can send you a German language book when we get home,” Roy said.

  “Should you be telling him so much so soon?” Kathy spoke up. “Jake’s got enough on his mind already.”

  “I know,” Roy agreed, looking contrite. “I’m sorry.”

  “No. That’s okay,” Jake said quickly. “The sooner I know, the better.”

  Hannah was a bit relieved at how brave Jake looked, seemingly facing what lay ahead with newfound courage. But then the cloud passed over his face again.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, leaning in his direction.

  “In four weeks,” he managed to say.

  “Da Hah will help you,” Roy said softly.

  Hannah moved closer to Jake, put her arms around his neck, and pulled him tight against herself. At the moment, she didn’t care what her parents might think of this display of affection. They were married, after all. She felt useless and helpless to do anything more, but she could love Jake—that much she could do. Maybe it could help.

  Jake managed a slight smile but then looked uncomfortable, so she released her arms but stayed close.

  “The food,” Kathy said in a sudden burst. “Oh, my.”

  “Now you burned it,” Roy said, a chuckle in his voice.

  Even Jake had to laugh as Hannah jumped up.

  How quickly life comes back, she thought in her rush to the stove. It takes only a few hours to come back—life does go on.

  It was as she and Kathy placed the food on the table that Hannah realized they would surely not be moving back to Indiana now. Any doubt as to that question had been removed as completely as food from a cleaned kitchen table after a meal. A newly ordained minister did not move except for the most compelling of reasons. None of those reasons existed for Hannah and Jake. Joblessness and lack of money didn’t count for much.

  Hannah shoved the realization aside for the moment and waited until she and Jake were in bed to think of it again. With Jake’s arms around her, she wept. She wept for Jake but also for herself, for the lost hope of a move closer to home, for the realization that Montana, cold Montana with its snows and bears, would not be parted from her.

  She knew that Jake probably thought she was crying for him—and in part she was—but she also cried for herself. She would not tell him so, though. This was just something she would have to bear in silence.

  “We’ll make it,” Jake said, stroking her hair, his strong arms tight around her.

  “Yes,” she said in a muffled voice. It was the right thing to say, and yet she wondered how they would make it.

  And then, as if the day hadn’t been enough already, the sound outside the bedroom wall was unmistakable.

  “That wasn’t the bear,” Jake said, trying to sound confident but without success.

  “It was just a noise,” Hannah said aloud, knowing good and well it wasn’t.

  Eighteen

  Hannah awoke late, the sun already up, its light filling the room.

  Jake’s side of the bed was empty. Embarrassed, she dressed quickly and hurried out to discover her fears were well founded. Both of her parents were already up, and Jake was with them. Kathy and Roy had coffee cups in their hands.

  Hannah was so flustered she missed the looks on their faces until Kathy said, “I guess we get to taste some of your Montana excitement.”

  “Like what?” Hannah asked.

  “The bear was here, after all,” Jake said, a little shamefaced. “It tore up the springhouse.”

  “It’s surprising we didn’t hear anything,” Roy said, carefully nursing his steaming cup. “At least it left the coffee.”

  “You would say that after this mess,” Kathy said.

  “It is a mess,” Jake added.

  Hannah walked over to the living room window to see for herself. Sure enough, the springhouse was torn open, and the roof leaned toward the mountains. Jake’s recent work was completely undone.

  “It ate all the food,” Roy said. “That’s why there’s no breakfast. Do you normally starve your visitors in Montana?”

  “Roy,” Kathy rebuked halfheartedly.

  “By the way,” Roy asked, “who was the last one to go to the springhouse?”

  Kathy’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, no! It was me. I got the food for supper last night.”

  “I wouldn’t be blaming anyone,” Jake spoke up.

  “I’m so sorry,” Kathy said. “Maybe I didn’t fasten the door right.”

  “Could be,” Roy allowed. “You’re not used to such things.”

  “It could have gotten in anyway,” Jake said. “You just never know.”

  “It’s okay, Mom,” Hannah offered. “It’s a wild country in many ways.”

  “I’m still sorry,” Kathy said.

  “It could have been me,” Hannah added, turning to look out the window again.

  Hannah felt sick at the sight of the springhouse. This land was dangerous, and now her retreat to Indiana had been cut off with Jake’s ordination. For the first time, a grudge against Jake’s calling entered her heart, a bitter thought that burned through her. Why had God chosen Jake? Surely Jake could do something about it. Yet she knew there was nothing that could be done. Jake was not to blame, and that left only God or the people who voted for Jake.

  Above the fallen springhouse, Hannah saw the Cabinet Mountains fill the skyline. They seemed to smirk this morning, proud of the destruction to the springhouse. They looked even taller than normal, as if they lorded over her and Jake.

  “Well? What are we doing about breakfast?” Roy asked. “Should a man just blow away because the bear has been here?”

 
“There’s a carton of eggs left,” Jake said. “They’re on the kitchen table. I found them against the corner of the springhouse. Some bacon too. A little bit.”

  “But the bear,” Kathy said.

  “It didn’t touch it,” Jake assured her.

  Her mother was unconvinced, as was Hannah. At the moment, though, the thought struck her that they hadn’t awakened her to let her know. Why hadn’t Jake come in to tell her? Did he intend to shoulder the responsibility by himself? Didn’t he care anymore what she thought about things?

  Then she managed to control her thoughts. Surely Jake did care. It was just the shock of the bear’s destruction and what had happened yesterday that had her emotions so torn.

  “Will someone make the bacon and eggs?” Roy pleaded.

  “But the bear,” Kathy repeated.

  “Jake and I don’t care,” Roy said, to which Jake nodded.

  “I have some cold cereal,” Hannah offered, bringing her thoughts back to what needed to be done.

  Her mother was agreeable. “That’s better than bear slobber, I do declare.”

  “You’re just being dramatic,” Roy said. “No matter. That leaves more for Jake and me.”

  Kathy ignored him and got up to follow Hannah, who was already on her way to the kitchen. Hannah opened the oven lid, arranged the kindling, and struck a match to start the fire. The smoke from the small flame curled around in the oven box and then came up the lid instead of back toward the back and the stovepipe. Irritated, she replaced the lid, and the fire promptly went out.

  “Can’t even start the fire,” she muttered.

  “It’s just one of those mornings,” her mother said.

  Hannah lifted the lid and tried again, this time checking to make sure the damper was open. She waved with her hand at the smoke as it tried to come up the lid. Slowly the column moved sideways and then the draw started, and the flames licked hungrily on the wood. She added several larger pieces and closed the lid.

  With the cold cereal on the table and the bacon and eggs fried, Kathy called into the living room that breakfast was ready. They bowed in prayer, but Jake didn’t pray out loud. Perhaps he was too disturbed, Hannah reasoned but supposed it didn’t matter either way. Jake would be doing plenty of praying in the future whether he wanted to or not.

  Hannah felt the bitterness again and wished it wasn’t there, but what was she supposed to do about it? Jake needed her now more than ever, and help she would gladly give…but why wouldn’t her heart cooperate?

  Kathy still refused to take any eggs or bacon, even when Roy insisted. She settled for cold cereal. “No bear for me,” she proclaimed.

  Hannah overcame her initial resistance and took an egg and two pieces of bacon. Jake and Roy divided the remainder between them.

  They were still eating when they heard someone pull into the driveway.

  “Who would that be?” Jake wondered as he got up to check.

  “Mr. Brunson,” Hannah guessed but stayed seated. Jake could talk to him.

  “His food will get cold,” Kathy, ever the mother, worried as Jake walked toward the front door.

  “He’ll probably be right back,” Hannah guessed again.

  As if to confirm her conclusions, Jake came back almost immediately and seated himself at the table.

  “He’s going to wait till we’re done with breakfast,” Jake said.

  “What does he want?” Hannah asked.

  “He wants us to help him,” Jake replied, picking up his fork again.

  When Hannah kept her eyes on him, he finally offered, “He wants help burying the bear.”

  “What?” Kathy exclaimed. “Is it dead?”

  “Yes,” Jake said. “Mr. Brunson shot it.”

  “Shot it?” Roy stopped in mid bite. “Shot the bear?”

  “That’s what he said,” Jake said.

  “But can you do that?” Kathy asked.

  “I guess if it’s bothering you,” Roy said with a shrug of his shoulders.

  “I don’t think so,” Jake said. “This was a grizzly. From what Mr. Brunson was saying, he seems to think he did something quite illegal. Might even be against federal law.”

  “So why are you going to help him?” Kathy asked.

  “The bear tore up my springhouse,” Jake answered.

  “That’s not a good enough reason,” Kathy said.

  “Seems so to me,” Jake said as he continued eating. “Kind of solves the problem, doesn’t it?”

  Kathy was distressed, but Hannah didn’t know what to say, torn between feeling glad that the bear was no more and queasy because something wasn’t quite right.

  “Jake shouldn’t be doing this,” Kathy said, addressing Roy, who wasn’t saying anything.

  “We’ll need his help too,” Jake said calmly.

  “How are you digging this hole?” Roy asked.

  Jake shrugged. “Mr. Brunson didn’t say. He just wants to use the horse to drag the bear. I think Mosey can do it.”

  Kathy looked at Roy and said, “I can’t believe you’d do this. They put people in jail for these things.”

  Roy didn’t say anything.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t help,” she continued.

  “But it tore up my springhouse,” Jake said, a little heatedly now. “It’s going to cost a lot to build it again. You know we have to have one.”

  “I’ll help,” Roy said. “I’ll even help with the cost because it might be partly our fault. We’re still here for two days. Surely we can do it in that time.”

  “I think we can,” Jake said.

  “Just how illegal is this?” Roy asked.

  “Why does that matter?” Kathy asked. “Illegal is illegal.”

  “Pretty illegal,” Jake said, “if it’s federal as Mr. Brunson seemed to think.”

  “You’re a minister now,” Roy said slowly, seeming to think carefully on each word. “You shouldn’t be taking chances.”

  “It’s not right anyway,” Kathy said. “If it’s not right, then it’s not right.”

  “That’s true,” Roy agreed.

  Jake’s face turned as sober as it had yesterday when his name was announced. Another stab of bitterness went through Hannah. Were they to be haunted now by this responsibility? Was everything in life to be weighed by whether Jake was a minister or not?

  “Maybe we should be cautious,” Jake allowed.

  “We’d better ask Mr. Brunson in,” Roy decided, the last of his breakfast done. He pushed back his plate and stood up. Jake followed him into the living room, as did Hannah, unwilling to miss the conversation. Then Kathy followed as well.

  Jake invited Mr. Brunson in, and Hannah offered him a chair.

  Roy cleared his throat. “Mr. Brunson, about this bear…”

  “I shot it,” Mr. Brunson said. “It killed the other two of my pigs. Enough is enough. I see it tore up your son-in-law’s springhouse. I say this situation should just be handled between us.”

  “Was it legal, though?” Roy asked.

  “Probably not,” Mr. Brunson answered. “This is wild country around here. Not like Indiana. The authorities don’t take lightly to having their grizzlies shot. I think it might be best to bury the thing and just have it over with.”

  “I can understand that,” Roy said, softly enough, “but burying things doesn’t always solve the problem.”

  Mr. Brunson seemed to think on that for a moment. “I guess that’s true,” he agreed, but he said the words with sorrow in his voice. It was as if the man knew this to be true from past experience and not from the bear at all.

  “We really are a bit uncomfortable with this,” Roy said. “With Jake’s springhouse torn open and your pigs dead, maybe the authorities would be understanding.”

  “Don’t depend on it,” Mr. Brunson said, a bitter edge in his voice. “They get a lot of things wrong.”

  “Still…we must do what is right,” Roy said. “Jake just got ordained as a minister yesterday. It might not be good to involve him.
If you bury the grizzly, he will be involved.”

  “Ordained.” Mr. Brunson paused, looking puzzled, and let the matter be. “I can’t do this by myself. I’m a little old,” he said ruefully.

  “It might be best to let the authorities know,” Roy suggested.

  Mr. Brunson snorted in disgust, as if a bitter thought had just passed through his mind, but he answered kindly enough. “I suppose so. What is to be, will be. Didn’t Shakespeare say something like that?” He laughed drily.

  Roy didn’t say anything, waiting for Mr. Brunson to arrive at his decision.

  Mr. Brunson seemed to struggle with competing thoughts. He didn’t wait too long, though, before he simply said, “I’ll go call the game warden.”

  Hannah felt sympathy for the old man. Surely he wouldn’t go to jail because of her father’s advice. Surely not.

  Nineteen

  Kathy and Hannah watched with a mixture of fear and fascination as the vehicles rolled in, first the game warden’s familiar truck and then a half a dozen others with all sorts of markings.

  When Hannah thought there couldn’t be any more—the area full of law officers—two more dark green vehicles with impressive-looking federal government seals on the front doors came up the dirt road.

  “They do take this seriously,” Kathy said in awe. “Do you think Mr. Brunson will have to go to jail?”

  “I don’t know,” Hannah said. “I hope not.”

  Just then one officer stepped out of one of the two more recently arrived vehicles while the other remained inside, busy with paperwork. After a short conversation with a state officer, the federal officer returned to his vehicle, and the two cars continued up the road toward Mr. Brunson’s.

  “He probably told them where the bear was,” Kathy said.

  “I wonder why they didn’t take him along,” Hannah said.

  The state officer resumed scribbling on a notepad. Beside him the other two officers seemed to do all the talking. A camera was produced, and pictures were taken of the springhouse.

  After more conversation, two of the officers left as Jake came toward the cabin. Hannah met him at the front door.

  Jake gave a sober look in response to the questions on Hannah’s face.