A Hope for Hannah (Hannah's Heart 2)

by Jerry S. Eicher

  There was only one thing to do, and that was go herself. Resolved, Hannah bundled up in her thickest coat and pulled on a pair of Jake’s pants under her dress. She wrapped two scarves around her neck, but when she opened the cabin door, the wind still cut through them like a knife. It then occurred to her that she needed light and perhaps a blanket for when she found Jake. Obviously something was wrong by now, and she might as well go prepared.

  In the bedroom, she pulled Jake’s torch out from under the bed, draped a blanket over her arm, and set off once again.

  The first snowdrift was worse than expected, and she almost floundered, tempted to turn back. In her imagination, she could see Jake pass her in the dark, beat her home, and laugh heartily when she got there herself.

  But it was not possible, she told herself. Jake would see the light if he walked past her. He had to be out here somewhere.

  “Jake,” she yelled, and the wind took her words away.

  Hannah pressed on, following Jake’s tracks around a snow bank. With the depth of snow here, she sank in above her boots even when she stayed in his tracks.

  “Jake,” she tried again but soon gave up. She needed all her energy just to move forward.

  It seemed like forever, her eyes glued to the tracks in the snow, before the main road came into sight. It appeared plowed with some snow drifting back.

  “Jake,” she hollered with what strength she had left.

  “Here!”

  She heard the distinct voice, but it wasn’t a voice of alarm. Surely Jake wasn’t playing games with her. “Where?” she yelled back, finding new energy come into her body.

  “Over here—beside the post,” the answer came back.

  Hannah walked past the next drift, and there he was, seated on the ground, the snow scraped away from where he sat.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “I twisted my ankle,” Jake said, rubbing his leg. “I got the mail and made it this far back. I knew you’d come. There’s a letter from your mom,” he said, pulling it out of his pocket as a fresh blast of wind rushed at them.

  “Are you really hurt?” she asked.

  “Of course,” he said. “I wouldn’t make you come out in this weather just for a joke.”

  “How’d you know I’d come?”

  “Because you’re a good wife,” he said. “Now help me up.”

  “I can help you up, but I can’t carry you,” she said, stating the obvious.

  “You can’t get Mr. Brunson either,” Jake said, having reached the same conclusion Hannah had arrived at earlier.

  “Now what?” Her teeth began to chatter from the cold.

  “First, I’ll take the blanket.” Jake held out his hand. “Thanks.” He wrapped it tightly around himself.

  “I only brought one,” she said.

  “It’s enough,” he said. “Go back to the barn and harness Mosey. Tie one of the traces on the little sled. There’s a rope on the wall. I’ll get both traces on when you come back. Ride the horse, though—don’t walk back.”

  “You’ll be okay?”

  “Yes,” Jake nodded. He shifted his weight on the ground and said with a laugh, “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Thirty-eight

  Hannah struggled back up the driveway toward the barn, pushing hard through the snow, her breath coming in gasps. Twice she had to stop and take shelter behind a snowbank to rest for a moment.

  Finally she reached the barn, tugged open the door, and barged in. Mosey looked up, seemingly curious as to why she was there. Hannah quickly moved the horse from his stall, threw on the harness, found the sled, and tied on the rope.

  She almost got tangled up in the awkward contraption as she led Mosey outside. The horse objected to the wind, shaking his head in protest. She talked quietly to him, telling him that Jake needed them and he had to be a good horse and behave.

  Her voice seemed to calm him down. He even stood still while she clambered up onto him by standing on a leather strap. She shook the lines draped across Mosey’s neck to get the horse to move—if only at a dull plod. Even so, the trip went considerably faster than it had on foot.

  When she got close, Jake called out to remind her where he was. When she reached the spot, she started to get down but thought better of it. She deftly maneuvered Mosey into place, close enough to Jake so he could tie the other tug on. Jake managed to pull himself up on one leg and soon had the sled rigged so that he could lay on it. When he was ready, he had to yell to Hannah to be heard over the wind. She urged Mosey forward and glanced back occasionally to see Jake hanging on and bouncing through the snow.

  Hannah ignored Jake’s requests to take him to the barn so he could help her unhitch. Instead she pulled as close to the front porch as the horse could go.

  “Thanks, big man,” she told him through frozen lips, “but tonight you listen. Get inside.”

  “Okay,” he grumbled, hopping off the sled and releasing the tugs before he went inside, half crawling toward the front door.

  When Hannah came in from the barn, Jake had his leg up on a chair and his sock off. His ankle was visibly red and swollen.

  “Is it broken?” she asked.

  “I don’t think so,” he said, wincing as she felt his ankle for a sign of a break.

  “Some pain pills,” she said, heading for the bathroom cabinet. She came back with three Advil tablets and a glass of water. Jake gulped them down without complaint.

  “You should see a doctor,” she said.

  “On a night like this? No. Besides, it’s just a sprain.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I just do. Besides, we can’t get out anyway.”

  That Jake was right was obvious, so she relented and instead brought him his dinner on a tray.

  “Your letter,” he groaned, pulling the now wet envelope out of his pocket.

  “I’ll look at it later,” she answered, waving it off.

  “I’m okay. Read it now,” Jake said as he handed it to her.

  Hannah seated herself on the couch and opened the letter carefully.

  “Read it out loud,” Jake said. “After this, I need some entertainment.”

  Hannah rolled her eyes in a tease, but read the letter aloud.

  Dear loved ones,

  I hope this finds you all well. Our first snow came last week, just a light dusting, but we loved it. Dad seems well recovered from the accident, for which we are thankful. Christmas will be at Aunt Esther’s—a big affair. It would be nice to have both of you here, but we understand.

  “It’s boring,” Jake said and groaned. “I wanted entertainment.”

  “Don’t be complaining already,” Hannah said. “Betty was right. You men are not very good patients.”

  “I’ll be a better patient when those pain pills take hold.”

  “Give them time,” Hannah said, realizing she was sounding just like a mother. Now isn’t that something new? Mothering Jake, she thought with a secret smile.

  “Finish your letter,” Jake said wearily, “in quiet, though. On second thought, I’m not up to hearing it. Now if it was from my mother…”

  “That would be nice, but it wasn’t that long ago that you wrote her, and you haven’t heard back from her. Maybe she’s busy. Mothers can be, you know. Perhaps if you write her again, she’ll write back.”

  “My leg hurts too much now.”

  “Not now, silly. I didn’t mean that. Later.”

  “Looks like I’ll be here for a while,” Jake muttered, glaring at his leg. “How clumsy can one be?”

  “You didn’t have to go get the mail,” Hannah reminded him. “Just be thankful we could get you back to the house on a night like this.”

  Jake just groaned again.

  “Do you want to go to bed?”

  “Not till this pain lets up.”

  As it turned out, the pain didn’t allow Jake to sleep until after midnight. Hannah stayed up with him until he finally wanted to get up from the couch and try
to get in bed. Gingerly they made their way into the bedroom with Jake using a broom for a crutch.

  In the morning the snow had stopped, and the sun came up in a blaze of white glory. Hannah let Jake sleep late. He couldn’t go to church with his swollen foot even if there had been no drifts on their road.

  Hannah expected a snowplow to come up from the main road anytime, but none showed by the time Jake finally awoke. He looked so rumpled and sleepy-eyed Hannah laughed out loud.

  “You certainly don’t look like a preacher now,” she teased.

  “I suppose not,” he said. “You think anyone from church will come looking for us?”

  “They’ll just think we’re snowbound,” Hannah said, actually enjoying the chance to stay home on a Sunday. The feeling was delicious—just she and Jake and no place to go. “They probably didn’t have church anyway.”

  Jake laughed. “No, during winter in Montana, the snow doesn’t stop. They probably did have church.”

  Hannah thought about it and considered that he was probably right. “Well, maybe so, but they can have church without you. Now, I seem to remember something about a letter to your mother…”

  “Okay, okay,” Jake said. He got out his letter pad and began a letter to his mother. Hannah playfully tried to read it over his shoulder, but he covered it up every time she got close.

  “I’ll mail it tomorrow,” he said, “when we go in to have this ankle looked at.”

  “Tomorrow is Christmas,” she reminded him.

  “Oh, right. I guess I forgot.” Jake shook his head as if trying to clear it.

  Hannah watched him and said, “You sure you didn’t hurt your head last night?”

  “I don’t think so,” he said

  Just then they both heard the noise of the snowplow on the main road. Hannah looked out the window to see the plow as it passed below their driveway. Then, behind the plow, as if waiting to get through, was Mr. Brunson’s truck. But instead of following the plow along the main road, the pickup turned into the driveway.

  Hannah went out to the porch to let Mr. Brunson know they were home in case he wanted something.

  “Are you folks okay?” Mr. Brunson called from his truck.

  “Jake sprained his ankle last night,” Hannah called back.

  That produced an “Oh” from Mr. Brunson. He drove into the driveway, parked his truck, and stepped onto the porch where Hannah was waiting to invite him in.

  “Hello,” Jake said from the couch, his foot propped up on a chair.

  “So what have you done, young man?” Mr. Brunson demanded.

  “Oh, I insisted on walking to the mailbox and got careless, I guess,” Jake said.

  “You’ve seen a doctor?” Mr. Brunson asked.

  Jake shook his head. “Not with the roads like they’ve been. And now it’s the holiday weekend.”

  “You can go to Urgent Care in Libby,” Mr. Brunson said. “Now, let me take a look at that ankle.”

  “We heard the plow. I guess that means the roads are open now,” Jake said, pulling up his pant leg to reveal his swollen ankle.

  “Wiggle your toes,” Mr. Brunson said.

  Jake wiggled them as much as he could.

  “Turn your foot.” Mr. Brunson gently felt the ankle as Jake pivoted his foot from side to side.

  “So what do you think?” Jake asked, hoping for a positive answer.

  “Well, it’s not broken,” Mr. Brunson said. “I’m not a doctor, though. You should have it X-rayed.”

  “After Christmas,” Jake said, “if it’s not better.”

  “Sure you don’t want me to take you in?” Mr. Brunson asked. “I’m going that way.”

  Jake shook his head. “No, not if it’s not broken.”

  Mr. Brunson shrugged. “Suit yourself. Tuesday’s a long way off.”

  “We’ll make it,” Jake assured him.

  “All right, then. My advice is to stay off that foot as much as possible…and go see a doctor on Tuesday.” With that, Mr. Brunson left.

  “I can’t have this lay me up very long,” Jake said. “Mr. Howard has quite a few orders lined up.”

  “I’m sure you’ll mend just fine,” Hannah said hopefully.

  During the rest of the afternoon, she thought of several ways to cheer Jake up but couldn’t settle on anything. Popping up a batch of popcorn didn’t really suit the occasion, and besides, she had no apple cider to serve with it. She wished someone would visit, but no one knew about Jake’s injury. People likely figured they were simply snowed in.

  Jake finished his letter and sealed it with a lick and then said, “My ankle is starting to throb. Can you give me some more pills?”

  “Every four hours—” she told him firmly, “no more than that.”

  Jake groaned and laid back down on the couch.

  The lonely Christmas holiday came and went in much the same way. Betty and Steve were hosting Steve’s family for the holidays, so there was really no other place to go, even if Jake hadn’t injured his ankle.

  Hannah made snow cream by scooping up a large bowl of snow from the drift near their front porch. To her delight, Jake clearly enjoyed the treat. She then suggested they play some games, but Jake didn’t want to.

  Instead he wanted to sing a song and read the Christmas story from the Bible. She agreed and sat beside him on the couch. They sang a Christmas song, but because it was just the two of them, it didn’t sound quite right to Hannah. Jake read the first two chapters of Luke with great tenderness and then offered a prayer.

  “Those were some times back then,” he said as he set the Bible down. “Angels…I wonder why we don’t see angels anymore.”

  “Maybe we have to live out in the hills,” Hannah said with an image of the shepherds tending their flocks flitting through her mind.

  “That must have been a glorious sight,” Jake said with awe in his voice. “A sky full of angels. What must that have been like? Such singing.”

  “Better than ours!” Hannah said.

  Jake laughed. “I suppose so.”

  “What must it have been like to be with child and without a husband?” Hannah asked, shivering at the thought. “Do you think anyone believed her?”

  “Some did,” Jake said. “Elizabeth believed her.”

  “Just think, Jake. Mary talked to an angel, just like that—face-to-face.” Hannah drew closer to Jake on the couch.

  “He shall be great,” Jake quoted, “and shall be called the Son of the Highest.”

  Outside, the wind was blowing across the drifts, swirling the snow around the living room window.

  “Yes, those were the days,” Jake said as Hannah nestled even closer.

  They sat there comfortably, lost in their thoughts until finally Hannah got up and fixed their Christmas supper. It was a simple meal, and they ate it early. Almost immediately after the meal, Jake said he was ready for bed even at this early hour.

  Hannah stayed up for another hour, rereading her mother’s letter and then the two chapters from the Bible Jake had read. In the peace and sleepiness that followed, she joined Jake in bed.

  Thirty-nine

  Having gone to bed early the night before, Jake woke up early Monday morning and got up right away. He wanted to stop in at Betty and Steve’s house on the way into Libby. He seemed to think it necessary to make contact with someone because they hadn’t been to church.

  Hannah went out to the barn, readied Mosey, and then pushed the buggy into the driveway. The snow was still abundant, covering a quarter of the wheels in places. Jake hobbled out with his broomstick crutch, stuck it under the backseat, and climbed in. Hannah had Jake hold the lines as she went back inside for an extra blanket.

  The snow had stopped falling in the night, and the morning sky dawned clear blue. Jake took care not to bump his foot against the buggy dash by holding it with one hand when they turned and drove out onto the main road.

  Betty raced out the kitchen door when they pulled up, the straps of her boots still loose
. “Where were you two?” she exclaimed before Hannah got the buggy door open. “I had to stay around the house all day yesterday. Steve’s relatives stayed much later than planned.”

  “We survived, but that’s about all,” Hannah said grimly.

  “Were you snowed in?” Betty asked. “That’s what everyone thought on Sunday.”

  “Kind of,” Hannah grinned. “Jake sprained his ankle Saturday night. We’re on our way to the doctor now.”

  “Sprained it?” Betty asked, her voice full of concern. “Is it broken? How do you know it’s just sprained?”

  “So you did have church?” Jake asked. “There’s no way I could have gotten out until the plow opened our road.”

  “That’s what we figured,” Betty said. “The foot, though, how bad is it?”

  “Mr. Brunson looked at it,” Hannah said. “He thought it probably wasn’t broken.”

  “What does Mr. Brunson know,” Betty said. “The foot needs to be seen by a doctor.”

  “Yes, we know,” Hannah agreed. “We’re on our way. Dr. Lisa will probably see him. Think we should call her office ahead of time?”

  “I’d just go in,” Betty said. “You might have to wait a little. You should have tried to go in right away.”

  “Jake didn’t want to,” Hannah said. “Besides, the snow and the holiday—”

  “So like a man,” Betty huffed.

  Jake urged Mosey to go faster as they drove into Libby and finally arrived at Dr. Lisa’s office. Hannah tied the horse while Jake hopped toward the door without his broom. She caught up with him in time to hold the door open.

  Inside, Jake told the receptionist what had happened and was soon taken back for an X-ray. When he came out, he told Hannah the doctor hadn’t seen him yet and that he was supposed to wait.

  A short time later, Dr. Lisa invited Jake and Hannah to come back to the examining room. She showed them the X-ray, confirmed that it was just a sprain, and instructed Jake to keep his ankle wrapped and take a pair of crutches home with him. He would be good to go in a week or so.