A Dream for Hannah (Hannah's Heart 1)

by Jerry S. Eicher

  Kathy had no objections to Hannah helping Sam’s family. “They probably do need the extra hand,” she offered as explanation to the surprised look on Hannah’s face.

  “They’re just making it hard on me,” Hannah insisted. “I just hope they decide I’m capable of being a good farm wife before too long.”

  “It might just be what life is like with him,” Kathy said. “You can’t say you aren’t being warned.”

  “I can make it,” Hannah said, squaring her chin. “I’m capable and strong enough for anything a farmer’s wife is supposed to be. They’ll see.”

  “How are you getting over there?”

  “Will you let me drive your horse?”

  “I guess so. Just be back before too late because your dad might want it for the evening.”

  So after lunch on the following Thursday, Hannah hitched the horse and headed down the road. It was a beautiful day as she drove along. The nice weather reminded her of Montana. What a distant place that has become, she mused.

  Already Montana seemed so far away, and even the thought of Jake didn’t really bring a reaction. She hadn’t thought of him in several days. That was surely a good sign, wasn’t it? Hannah slapped the reins and assured herself that it was. And now she was off to Sam’s place to prove herself a capable farm woman. But she considered that if he knew all her sins, it might take more than just a day in the fields to convince them. She settled back into the buggy seat and let the memories of that far away place flood through her—Betty and Steve, the horses, the mountains, the plain by the river, and the rides with Jake. She had come so close to saying “yes” to Jake. She could hardly believe it now. Where would that have led her? No doubt someplace wrong, and so God had intervened when she couldn’t have helped herself. He had sent the mountain lion for one thing. And then, if that wasn’t enough, He had Betty tell Jake that she had been writing to Sam all summer.

  Now she would live the life He had planned for her. She had to admit, though, that she couldn’t help but wish there was more excitement in being a farmer’s wife. But then, wasn’t her dream of excitement what had gotten her into trouble before? Yes, it was. No more of that.

  Hannah slapped the reins again and urged the old driving horse on. When she reached sight of the Knepp place, already a small cloud of straw dust was in the air, light puffs beside the barn. The afternoon threshing had started before she got here.

  Laura waved to her as she drove in. After she tied the horse, Hannah headed toward Laura, wondering exactly what her duties would be. Laura solved that question by offering her a pitchfork.

  “Come up and help me,” Laura hollered above the racket.

  Hannah looked in horror at the great rugged tractor that was attached to the threshing machine by a wide flap of belt. Both looked like mortal danger, but Laura smiled and waved her up.

  Hannah gripped tightly as she climbed up the front of the wagon with its tiered sideboards and stood shakily on the top.

  “Don’t fall off,” Laura hollered. “Grab the fork. Use that to keep your balance.”

  Hannah followed Laura’s directions but wondered how she would be able to do anything else.

  “Have you ever done this before?” Laura asked.

  Hannah shook her head.

  “Be careful, then,” Laura said. “Pick up the bundles one at a time and throw them into the hopper.”

  Hannah looked down over the edge of the wagon at the hopper. Its great mouth stared back at her. Out of the hole came rotating sets of iron teeth that reached toward her as if to grab her and suck her in. Hannah shuddered at the thought.

  “We need bundles,” a voice hollered from around the corner of the threshing machine.

  Hannah didn’t recognize the voice above the roar of the machinery.

  “We’d better get to work,” Laura said, her face grim. “Hang on tight and throw when you’re ready.” She demonstrated how it was done, and Hannah followed her lead. One by one, the bundles of oats hit the spinning iron teeth, causing the threshing machine to roar and groan.

  Hannah was scared about missing the hopper on her first try, but she succeeded to her own great pleasure.

  “That’s good,” Laura said from beside her.

  Hannah threw her next one. Laura followed, and they cast down the bundles one after the other until the wagon was empty.

  When they had finished, they noticed another full wagon waiting. Sam was the driver. He looked sweaty and dirty—the same condition Hannah assumed she was in.

  “I would have offered to help,” he hollered above all the racket, “but you’re already done.”

  “Hang on,” Laura hollered back. “I’m moving the wagon.”

  Hannah balanced herself on the empty wagon bed as it lurched forward. Sam immediately pulled his wagon into place in front of the threshing machine and began to throw bundles into the hopper.

  “We’d better take over,” Laura told Hannah. “He needs to go back for another load.”

  She nodded and followed Laura up the side of the wagon.

  “Hi,” Sam said when she got to the top. “How’s it going?”

  “Okay, I guess,” she said and forced a smile. “It’s dusty work.”

  “She’s doing just great,” Laura said. That answer seemed to please him.

  “Two more loads,” Sam said before he headed down the side of the wagon. “We should be done before dark.”

  “I can’t stay too late,” Hannah told Laura as Sam’s wagon bounced noisily down the lane toward the back fields. “Dad might need the horse tonight.”

  “You just go when you need to,” Laura said. “I think we’ll be done before Sam thinks. He always overestimates the time it takes.”

  Hannah and Laura swung away at the bundles until the wagon was empty again. Laura offered her a glass of water while they waited for Sam to return from the field. As Hannah wiped her brow, Laura smiled her approval, and Hannah felt perhaps she could be a farmer’s wife.

  “Only another half a load,” Sam announced when he returned. “We’ll have it loaded in no time.”

  “What about unloading it?” Laura said with a groan. “The life of a farmer’s wife,” she said, turning to look at Hannah, “what do you think of it?”

  “I think I can do it,” Hannah said without much effort.

  “Just thought I’d warn you,” Laura said.

  Hannah nodded. It seemed that her mother had said something like that not too long ago. I can do it, she told herself firmly, grabbing the fork again and swinging the bundles into the hopper.

  “You’re good at this,” Laura said, “for never having done it before.”

  “I’m trying,” Hannah answered as she heaved another bundle into the air.

  By the time the next load was finished, she excused herself, happy that she had lasted until the end. At her buggy she retrieved the copy of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer for Sam, gave it to Laura, and asked her to see that Sam got it.

  Laura looked amused but accepted the book. With a last wave, Hannah climbed into the buggy and headed home.

  As she fell into bed that night, barely after supper, she said aloud, “I can make it. Life as a farmer’s wife is a good life.”

  Apparently Sam agreed because several weeks later, with the advent of winter, he proposed. It was one of those early winter, Sunday afternoons with a blizzard threatening from the west. Talk had been of calling off the hymn sing, but the young folks had braved it. Now with still no snow in the air, Sam sat in Hannah’s living room. He had seemed nervous all evening. Now he cleared his throat, squirmed on the couch, and simply asked, “You will marry me, won’t you? That’s what these past few months have been about, haven’t they?”

  “Well, jah,” Hannah said slowly, startled now that she was confronted by the expected question. She thought herself ready, but it still took her breath away.

  You have stopped dreaming, she told herself, but there was still one more sign she needed. “Did you ever get around to readin
g that book about Tom Sawyer that I gave you?” Hannah asked.

  Sam looked as if he wondered what that had to do with anything. He finally found the answer he thought was best and said, “My dad said it wasn’t worth reading. But I told him I’d read it anyway because you gave it to me.” He laughed. “It was funny.”

  “So you liked it?”

  “Jah, I think it’s the first book I have ever really liked.”

  “Well.” Hannah was pleased and felt a sense of accomplishment. Perhaps this wouldn’t be as bad as she imagined. “Then the answer is yes.”

  “Yes to what?” Sam asked, apparently puzzled.

  “To marrying you,” Hannah said.

  “You will?” he asked, astonishment gripping his voice. “That’s wonderful.” He stared at her, his mouth shut, but a tear threatened one eye.

  “So when will it be?” Hannah asked, embarrassed that he was so touched.

  He thought for a moment, as if contemplating whether or not to answer, and then his face became certain again, as if he had arrived at a firm conclusion. “How about in spring?”

  “That soon?” she asked, her mind spinning. “How do we make plans that fast?”

  “It can be done if you want to,” Sam assured her. “Dad already started the daudy haus. It might be done in time. If not, we can stay upstairs in the big house until Mom and Dad leave.”

  “Oh,” Hannah said, catching her breath, “why not.” The signs were right, and the way was clear. She knew her smile was crooked, but it was the best she could manage.

  “Spring it will be, then,” Sam said triumphantly. His hand trembled as he reached for her hand.

  How pure, she thought. He is so much better than Peter and my foolish dreams. She just wished her heart would be a little more excited.

  The winter passed quickly, and spring came before Hannah wanted it to. The day of the wedding arrived with perfect weather. Kathy had been in a tizzy at first when she heard the planned date, but now it was finally going to happen. The pies were baked, the potatoes done, the casseroles stirred, and the fruit set out.

  Roy’s cousin lent them his place—the large house for the ceremony and the pole barn for the reception afterward. The Miller home simply wasn’t large enough for an Amish wedding. Hannah picked out her color—dark blue for a wedding dress and a lighter shade of blue for her attendants.

  Rows and rows of tables were set up in the pole barn. They were covered with white paper tablecloths and matching silverware, all set out in marvelous perfection. Betty had arrived by Greyhound on Monday. Steve was unable to come, but Betty said she would not have missed this for the world because she had a hand, of sorts, in the matter.

  Relatives came in from the neighboring states, most arriving the day prior and were put up in whatever homes were available. Kathy had people in every room of the house, stacked in it seemed, but at least all had some place to sleep.

  Laura insisted that their entire upstairs be kept empty out of respect for the soon-to-be couple who were planning to spend their first night together there as well as the weeks ahead.

  Bishop Knepp from Holmes County would preside over the ceremony. He was more than just an uncle to the family. Apparently he was also someone who was pretty important. Although the exact reason had never been made entirely clear, Hannah accepted that and understood an important bishop must be respected—whoever he was.

  At nine sharp they all filed in to take their seats. Hannah and Sam sat up front, very prim and proper in their starched wedding outfits. Sam wore a brand new black suit Laura had ordered from a top seamstress who lived in the Goshen area.

  It was when the men filed in that Hannah felt a stab of pain in her heart. Where it came from, she couldn’t understand. But it was suddenly there, just out of the blue and with the force of a hurricane. Terror gripped her. After all this waiting and all this pain, what if this is the wrong thing to do?

  Stop, dummkopf, you can’t doubt this now. Although Hannah told herself this firmly, she was sure her face grew white against the blue wedding dress. She glanced at Sam although she knew it wasn’t proper. Amish brides-to-be were supposed to keep their eyes on the floor. But Hannah had to know if Sam noticed her sudden distress.

  Sam hadn’t noticed. He seemed wrapped up in his own world, his eyes gazing calmly in the minister’s direction as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

  If he’s okay, I’m okay, Hannah told herself and calmed down a bit.

  The singing started, and with it her breathing fully returned to normal. Sam and Hannah then followed the ministers upstairs to receive their final instructions. Hannah managed that without embarrassment and then followed Sam quietly back downstairs when the instruction time was over.

  Ten minutes later the ministers themselves came back down, and the preaching started. What then seemed like only ten minutes later—although she knew it was more like at least an hour and a half—she heard the voice of Bishop Knepp faintly reach her.

  The moment had arrived.

  “If these, our beloved brother and sister, still desire to be united in holy matrimony, would they rise to their feet.”

  Hannah rose after Sam had stood up. It was then that the hurricane returned in full force. Her heart pounded so hard she was sure others could hear, but even so, she knew the ceremony must go on.

  Bishop Knepp turned to Sam and asked him, “Do you confess before God and the church that this, our beloved sister Hannah, is given to you in marriage by the will of God?”

  Sam answered in a loud and clear voice, “Yes.”

  Bishop Knepp turned to Hannah, his hand already prepared to reach out and join the two of theirs together. “Do you confess before God and the church that this, our beloved brother Sam, is given to you in marriage by the will of God?”

  Hannah couldn’t have gotten a sound out if she had tried, and she didn’t try.

  By the will of God? Horror flooded her. What am I doing? In desperation she reached for sanity and resolution but found none. The air seemed empty around her as if there wasn’t enough to fill the words let alone her lungs.

  Bishop Knepp looked at her, a kind expression on his face. No doubt he had seen fright-stricken Amish brides before and was sympathetic to her plight. It crossed Hannah’s mind that all she had to do was nod, and Bishop Knepp would accept it.

  Instead, to her own surprise, she shook her head.

  “Die schwester sagt nein?” the Bishop asked out loud in sheer astonishment.

  Hannah nodded and replied with surprising clarity. “Yes, the sister says no.”

  She suddenly knew.

  Bishop Knepp seemed rooted to his spot. Clearly this was out of the routine. Finally he simply motioned to Sam to seat himself and signaled for the service to proceed. The song leader led out in the final hymn. All around her Hannah could see people looking at each other with shock in their eyes. She had embarrassed not only herself but her whole family. She looked at Sam, seated at her side, his mouth closed and eyes dazed.

  Truly she was the community dummkopf now.

  Thirty-two

  Hannah felt the song end more than she heard it. The congregation around her was obviously uncertain as to what to do when the last notes of the song died away. Hannah could have burst out in sobs right then and there, but it wouldn’t do to lose control in public. What was going to happen next, she had no idea.

  In front of her, someone shuffled their feet, and a man cleared his throat. Hannah hardly dared look when she heard the voice of her father. “The meal is already prepared and will proceed as normal,” he said simply and sat down.

  Apparently that was all the direction that was needed. A frightened bride might have ruined her wedding day, but they would all discuss that later. Food was prepared and must be eaten. That much could easily be understood and followed.

  One problem remained. The bridal party was to lead the way. Custom was ingrained deeply, and Sam didn’t move, his face tight and turned toward the floor. Neither did
anyone else make that first move.

  Hannah dared not move a muscle. Sheer numbness had overtaken her body. She was now much more than a dummkopf in the eyes of everyone. She was likely a mental case in everyone’s mind. The pity and compassion could almost be felt.

  Kathy solved the problem when she rose to her feet. Hannah could have cried with relief, but she withheld even that emotion. Even though her mom might rebuke her, Kathy was still her mother. Kathy walked to the front and stood where everyone could see her—where the bridal party was seated. She placed her hand on Hannah’s shoulder and shook it gently.

  Hannah lifted her head slightly, and Kathy motioned for her to come. She took Hannah by the hand and led her into the kitchen. From there they walked into the small sewing room off to the side. No one followed except Betty, but the problem was now solved. Hannah could hear people getting to their feet.

  Hannah thought about Sam and how he must feel. She didn’t notice him as she and her mother and Betty made their way past the food and into the bathroom for some privacy. Later someone would tell her that he had gone straight to the barn, found his horse, and, with the help of several of the sympathetic younger boys, was on his way by the time the yard began to fill with people. None of the adults stared as he drove out the lane. A man must be given his privacy, even in public, for his time of grief.

  In the bathroom, Hannah had dissolved into uncontrollable sobs. Lest her cries extend beyond the door, Kathy pressed one of the towels against Hannah’s face. Betty stood there helplessly, quietly repeating, “Oh, Gott im Himmel. Oh, Gott im Himmel, helfen Sie uns.”

  Hannah sensed Kathy and Betty looking at each other and wondering how they could take her home. Her outburst couldn’t be hidden for long. Hannah wished she could stop sobbing, but she simply couldn’t. She didn’t know how they would get her out of the house without a scene, and at the moment, she no longer cared.

  “Tell Roy to get the buggy,” Kathy whispered to Betty. “Have him pull it up to the end of the walks.”