Hannah's Dream

by Lenore Butler

  "Maybe she likes you," he said.

  Adam narrowed his eyes. "How do you figure that? That doesn't make any sense."

  "Well, the thing about women is, they don't make any sense."

  "That's the truth," Adam said.

  "So, if they don't make sense, I think she probably likes you."

  "And that's why she's so ornery?"

  James nodded his head as he puffed his pipe. "Yup. That would explain it."

  Another train was approaching the station and Hannah walked to the edge of the platform. Adam was sitting behind her on a bench. He didn't like her being so close to the edge and got up. She strained her neck to see the train and her foot was halfway over the edge of the platform. Adam came up behind her and put out his hands. As the train drew nearer, she went to back away and went right into his arms. Instinctively, he wrapped them around her and pulled her away from the edge.

  She pushed his arms away and turned around. She glared at him and ran her hands over her skirt.

  "Why did you do that?" she said.

  "I thought you were gonna fall off the platform."

  "Did I look like I was gonna fall off the platform?"

  "Yes."

  She looked at his face. Why do I keep doing this? He looks so hurt. She remembered Louise was coming. She began to feel kinder toward him.

  "Well, thank you," she said.

  Adam was stunned. She didn't sound mean.

  "You're welcome."

  The train had stopped and people were getting off and going into the station. Hannah kept looking for Louise and finally saw her at the other end of the train. She ran toward Louise and wrapped her arms around her tightly.

  "I've missed you so much," Hannah said with tears in her eyes. "It's so good to see you."

  "I've missed you, too," Louise said. Now she was crying.

  They separated and looked each other.

  "Louise, you look beautiful."

  Louise had lost weight and her hair was professionally styled.

  "Mrs. Mason has been very kind. She gave me these clothes."

  "But it's not just the clothes. Your face is lovely."

  Louise blushed. "I guess I'm just happy."

  "Well, I'm glad. You deserve to be happy."

  Adam had walked to them and was standing behind Hannah. Louise saw him and smiled.

  "Who's this?" she asked Hannah.

  Hannah turned. "This is Adam. He works for my uncle."

  Adam tipped his hat.

  "Nice to meet you, Miss," he said.

  "It's nice to meet you, too, Adam. Please call me Louise."

  "Let's go home," Hannah said. "I want you to see our new house."

  She put her arm through Louise's and they walked to the carriage. Adam waited for Louise's trunks and when they came off the train, he put them on the back of the wagon. Louise and Hannah were sitting on the front seat and Adam climbed up next to Hannah. As they rode back to the ranch, Adam couldn't stop thinking of how good it felt to have Hannah sit so close. He had an urge to touch her hand and tightened his hands around the reins. She was talking to Louise about New Jersey and didn't seem interested in him at all.

  Hannah kept her head turned away from Adam. She kept thinking about his arms around her and when she did, her cheeks would redden and she would feel warm. Louise noticed. She could tell Hannah liked Adam.

  When they got to the ranch, Adam helped them down from the wagon and Hannah took Louise inside the house. Adam watched them walk away, and he could still feel her body pressed against his.

  Chapter 33

  Louise loved the view of the mountains. She had been sketching since they sat down, and Hannah felt the old feeling of jealousy rise up in her chest. Louise's mountains were magnificent. They were majestic and so real she felt as though she could touch them.

  "I imagine you're out here every day painting," Louise said.

  "Sometimes," Hannah replied. She hadn't painted since Adam told her that her picture was nice.

  "How can you stay away? It's so beautiful."

  Hannah thought about telling Louise what Adam had said. She'd never talked about her envy of Louise's talent and hadn't wanted to jeopardize their friendship by mentioning it. Would her confession make Louise feel badly? After all, the girl had lived her whole life thinking she wasn't good enough. Hannah decided not to say anything about her jealousy, but she would tell Louise what Adam said.

  "One day I was up here sketching when Adam came and looked at what I'd done. He said it was...nice."

  "And," Louise said.

  "And I haven't done anything since."

  Louise put down her brush. "Did you stop sketching because he said your picture was nice?"

  "Well, yes," Hannah said. "Louise, I want my drawings to make people feel something more. I want them to look at my paintings and feel so much that they can't contain it. I want them to weep."

  Louise laughed.

  "What's funny?" Hannah said. She narrowed her eyes.

  "You are. You've just described yourself." Louise took Hannah's hand. "Being with Mrs. Mason taught me that people like us, artists, we see things differently than other people. We weep when we see a painting that moves us because we know what the artist was feeling when he painted it. But most people look and see a nice painting."

  Hannah looked out over the valley. "So, I'll never be able to make them feel what I'm feeling?"

  "Some, yes, but most people will just admire the fact that you can do what they can't, and isn't that pretty?"

  Hannah smiled. "I've been so mean to him ever since he said that."

  "Then you owe him an apology."

  Hannah balked at apologizing to Adam. Her pride reared its ugly head.

  "Do you really think so?" she said.

  Louise nodded. "And do it soon. The longer you wait, the harder it will be."

  They sat on the hill a long time. By the end of the day, Hannah had resolved to tell Adam she was sorry, but she didn't look forward to it. Realizing that she was truly different from other people had been a revelation to her. She suddenly remembered John Liberty bringing her water in the tin bucket and the sand castles she made. They were intricate affairs with carved windows and stone walls. The other children would watch her and try to emulate what she'd made, but they couldn't. She'd always been different. She just hadn't understood.

  Chapter 34

  When Adam was five and living in St. Louis, he knew a girl named Annabelle. She was a fat, unhappy girl who at five years old had no friends and was left to herself most of the time. She would bully Adam, the only child in the neighborhood who would talk to her, and he would do what she said. He felt sorry for Annabelle. She was mean, but she was unhappy, too.

  Her parents were well-to-do, and one day her father brought home a box of bunnies. He had shot the mother by accident and when his manservant found the litter, Annabelle's father told him to put them in a box to take home. He had no idea how to raise a rabbit, but his manservant should, so home they came with the bunnies. Annabelle was excited to see the bunnies and squealed with delight when he put them in a box on the porch behind the house.

  But when she was alone, her attitude toward the bunnies changed. Annabelle was the youngest of four children. Her brother and two sisters were older, too old to play with Annabelle, and they usually ignored her when she would try to talk to them. Annabelle was supposed to be a boy, they reasoned, and their disappointment with her gender gave them an excuse to dismiss her. There were four bunnies in the box, one of them much smaller than the others.

  Adam arrived as Annabelle was kneeling by the box.

  "You're no good," she said. "You stay there. No one wants you."

  He climbed the stairs and looked into the box.

  "Where did they come from?" he asked.

  "Papa brought them home," she replied. "He killed their mama."

  The little bunny crawled back to the other bunnies to keep warm. Annabelle pushed it back to the other side of the
box.

  "No. You stay there. "

  "Why are you doing that?" Adam asked.

  "Because it's bad. It has to be punished."

  "Why?" he asked. "It's just a little bunny."

  "Because nobody likes him."

  The bunny began to crawl to its siblings again and Annabelle pushed it away.

  "If you don't stop," she said, "I'll hurt you. Now stay there."

  Adam stayed close to the box. If she tried to hurt the bunny, he would stop her. Adam couldn't stand to see something so innocent hurt.

  "Annabelle."

  The children looked at the door and saw her eldest sister looking at them.

  "Come inside and wash your hands. Those rabbits are full of disease. It's time to eat."

  The only thing that made Annabelle happy was food. She jumped up and rushed into the house, leaving the box behind. The little bunny had crawled back to the others. Adam pulled the box toward the stairs. He went down the steps and turned to pick up the box. It was heavy, but he was still able to carry it out of Annabelle's yard.

  Mrs. Walker was a widow who lived next door to Annabelle. Sometimes she would ask Adam to do jobs around her yard and she would pay him a whole nickel. She was kind and when he was finished working, she always had a warm cookie waiting for him. He took the box to Mrs. Walker's porch. She would know what to do with them.

  Mrs. Walker opened her back door when she heard Adam knock. She looked down at his sad face and smiled. Then she saw the box of bunnies.

  "Why, Adam, where did you get them?" she asked.

  Adam couldn't lie. "They belong to Annabelle."

  "Then why did you bring them here?"

  "I was afraid she would hurt them."

  Mrs. Walker knew Annabelle. She had seen her push Adam and pull his hair.

  "Can you help them?" he asked.

  "I'm sorry, Adam, but I don't know how to raise baby rabbits."

  "I bet Doc Baxter would tell you how."

  Doc Baxter was the local veterinarian. He usually smelled of whiskey, but he loved animals and treated them kindly.

  "Why don't you go and ask him? I'll keep the box here."

  "Don't let Annabelle see them," he said.

  "I'll put them in the mud room," she said, pulling the box through the door.

  She watched Adam run away and sighed. He had such a good heart.

  Adam went to the veterinary office and it was closed, but he knew where Doc Baxter lived. He found him on his front porch. He was drinking from a small glass and smoking a cigar.

  "Can I help you, son?" he said. He sounded funny.

  "What do you feed baby rabbits?" Adam said.

  "You find some baby rabbits?"

  Adam hesitated. He had to tell the truth.

  "They belong to Annabelle Wells."

  "How did she get them?"

  "Her pa killed their ma."

  "Damn fool," he said. "I'll bet he shot her, didn't he?"

  "I...I don't know."

  "Well, the odds are those rabbits will die, but if you want to feed them, give them dandelion greens, carrot tops, like that. If they eat, they might have a chance."

  "Thanks, Doc," Adam said as he ran away.

  He ran back to Mrs. Walker's and told her what the doctor had said.

  "Well, then let's give them some carrot tops and see what happens. It's getting late, Adam. Your uncle will wonder where you are."

  "He's not home yet."

  "It's six o'clock. I think he will be home. Why don't you come back tomorrow and see how they're doing."

  "Mrs. Walker," he said. "Don't tell Annabelle you have them."

  Mrs. Walker looked in his eyes. He was so earnest.

  "I won't say a word," she said.

  The next day Annabelle came to his house demanding her rabbits back. Adam lied for the first time in his life and told her he had set them free. She huffed and puffed, then she pushed him to the ground.

  "I hate you," she said before leaving him lying on his back porch.

  After that, he didn't see Annabelle until one day, when Adam was graduating from the eighth grade, he saw her in the school hallway leaning against a wall. She was still fat and unhappy, but she smiled when she saw him. He walked over to her and he smiled, too.

  "How are you, Annabelle?" he asked.

  "I'm not mad at you anymore," she said.

  "About what?" he asked.

  "About the rabbits. I was pretty mad when you took them, but I'm glad you did. I would have hurt them and I'd feel bad now."

  "I'm glad you're not mad anymore."

  "Did you really let them go?" she asked.

  He weighed his answer carefully. Annabelle's father had been angry when he found out they were gone. He yelled at Adam's uncle for interfering and threatened to call the police. In the end, Adam persuaded Mr. Wells that his uncle had nothing to do with the rabbits disappearing, but that he, Adam, had let them go. If he found out Mrs. Walker had taken them in, he might get angry all over again. She had raised them so well she was able to take them to the woods several miles away and set them free.

  "Yes," he said. "I let them go."

  One day after church, Jimmy was confronted by a bully named Teddy. Somehow Teddy had found out that Jimmy, whose last name was Welsh and not Dawes, was not Marian's son and had been adopted. The other children knew, too. Adam came out of church and saw Teddy push Jimmy to the ground. He ran over to help Jimmy up and turned to Teddy with his eyes blazing.

  "Don't ever do that again," Adam said.

  "And who's gonna stop me?" Teddy said.

  "I will," Adam said. "If you lay a hand on him, I'll knock every tooth out of your head."

  Teddy backed away. He sneered at Adam and spit on the ground.

  "My ma says he don't know who his parents are. She says he's a mongrel and he don't belong with decent folk," he said. "My ma told me to stay away from him."

  "Then she'll want to hear you've been talking to him, won't she?"

  Teddy hadn't thought of that. He kicked some dirt at Adam before walking away. Adam looked at Jimmy. His face was set and Adam knew he was thinking about what Teddy had said.

  "Why did he call me a mongrel?" Jimmy asked.

  "Because he's a fool."

  "What did he mean?"

  Adam put his hand on Jimmy's shoulder.

  "You'll have to ask your ma."

  When Marian and the others came out of church, Jimmy told her what had happened and asked her why the boy had called him a mongrel. She looked sad and put her hands on his shoulders.

  "Some people like to make other people feel bad. I don't know why, but they do. Sometimes when a person is adopted, others think because they don't know who their parents are, that they must not be as good as they are."

  "But I know who my parents are," Jimmy said.

  "Then you must ignore them," Marian said. "They're ignorant fools."

  "I was adopted," Adam said. "And I turned out okay."

  "You were?" Jimmy said.

  "Yup. My parents died and I had to live with my uncle and aunt. Don't let anybody tell you you aren't good enough."

  Hannah was standing next to Marian. She liked what Adam said to Jimmy.

  As they made their way back to the ranch in the new, big carriage James had purchased, they saw a tall man hanging a new sign in front of the doctor's office. He saw them and nodded. The men tipped their hats. The sign said "Owen Wallace, Doctor of Medicine." Hannah thought he was nice looking.

  The old doctor had died six months ago and some of the women in town complained to the town council that they had better find a new one soon or else. Adam smiled. The women had gotten their way.

  Chapter 35

  Becky had been cleaning the house since sunup. The kitchen had been scrubbed from top to bottom in preparation for next week's canning. Baskets of harvested vegetables sat in the new root cellar James had had built for them and this week, Adam was taking Hannah and Jimmy around the valley in the wagon to farms w
ith fruit trees. Each day they came home with something new -- apples, pears, and peaches had been easy to find, but Hannah was overjoyed when they found a farmer selling cherries. She loved Becky's cherry preserves!

  When the kitchen was spic and span, Becky began sorting through her mason jars. She had brought them with her from New Jersey. Marian had told her James would be more than happy to buy her new ones, but Becky was sentimental about the jars -- the ones she had used since becoming Marian's housekeeper.

  Becky had been an upstairs maid in the Hughes household when Mr. Hughes arranged Marian's marriage to Randall Dawes. Becky hated Randall on sight. She knew the type of man he was. She also knew what an innocent girl Marian was, and it broke her heart to see the lovely young girl shackled to such a man. Becky became Marian's confidante, and when she asked her parents if Becky could come with her to her new home, they agreed.

  Marian and Becky were the same age. Becky had gone into service when she was fourteen. She had been the Hughes' scullery maid and had been promoted to kitchen maid two years later. Then she was promoted again to upstairs maid. Going with Marian meant another promotion -- a giant leap to housekeeper. Randall felt one housekeeper would be sufficient as he planned to spend his time away from home. Marian had been raised with a personal maid and the Hughes family had given Randall the opportunity to take the maid along, too, but he refused. He thought it was a frivolous waste of money and believed Becky could fill the role.

  The first year in her new position had been difficult. Becky had no experience dressing hair or preparing the stylish dresses a society woman was required to wear. The layers had to be assembled just so, or the outfit would look unkempt. Becky was blessed in her lady, however, and Marian's patience that first year made the transition less arduous. She grew to love her mistress.