“Visitors do work,” Hannah said with a grin.
“Not tonight they don’t,” Betty said, letting go of Hannah’s elbow as they walked into the living room. Jake was already seated on the couch next to Steve in his rocker.
“I had to talk with Betty,” Hannah said, explaining the visit to Steve as she sat beside Jake.
“Women’s secrets?” Steve said. “I suppose Betty will be glad to get in on the new gossip.”
“Now, Steve,” Betty said with a glare, “Hannah is a minister’s wife, and she doesn’t gossip.”
“Oh, I suppose minister’s wives still have a few faults,” Steve said with a smile, glancing at Hannah. “Don’t they, Jake?”
“She doesn’t have very many,” Jake said, patting Hannah on the arm.
“Now see there,” Betty said. “You’ve hurt the poor girl’s feelings for no good reason at all.”
“I’m not perfect, Betty,” Hannah said, getting a word in edgewise. “Now, let’s talk about something else besides me.”
“Do I get in on the secret?” Steve asked.
“Really, it’s nothing much of a secret,” Hannah began. “Well, maybe it is, but Mom wanted me to look into this right away so they can make plans.”
In the background the sound of popcorn popping came from the kitchen, and Hannah paused to listen.
“Go out and help your sister,” Betty said to twelve-year-old Nancy. “Maybe you could get the apples from the basement.”
Nancy closed her book and headed for the kitchen.
Hannah followed the young girl with her eyes. “Your children are growing up so fast.”
“Yes, we all are getting older. I suppose it won’t be long now before Steve and I are grandparents.”
“Hey, don’t be rushing things,” Steve said. “He just brought Kendra home on Sunday night for the first time.”
“It was Mary Keim’s boy, the youngest—Henry,” Betty explained. “He’s so handsome, I couldn’t believe it when Kendra told me he asked her. I always wanted good-looking boys for my girls, but this was such a surprise. It’s as if Da Hah’s actually seeing eye-to-eye with me on the subject!”
“They’re not married yet,” Steve cautioned.
“But they will be…in a few years,” Betty said knowingly. “Kendra won’t let this one slip away.”
“So, I still haven’t heard the juicy gossip,” Steve said, rocking steadily.
“Steve, there are children around, and there is no gossip,” Betty said. “So please quit saying so.”
He laughed, “Well, I’m waiting all the same.”
“Popcorn!” Kendra announced, coming into the room with a heaping plastic bowl, carrying smaller bowls with her other hand.
“Popcorn,” Steve said. “Help yourself there, Jake. You’re sure not saying much tonight.”
“Well, it’s Hannah who wants to talk with Betty,” he said.
“Jake uses up all his words preaching,” Betty said. “Don’t you know that, Steve? You shouldn’t tease the man like that.”
Jake grinned. “I’d talk if I had something to say, but eating popcorn looks like a better idea.”
“That’s the man for me,” Steve said, heaping high one of the smaller bowls. He handed it to Jake, who took it, settling back on the couch. Steve filled his own bowl, while Betty stood up to prepare one for Hannah.
“Just a little popcorn,” Hannah said with a wave of her hand.
“So start from the beginning,” Betty said, sitting down again.
“Mom wrote a letter,” Hannah said before chewing some popcorn slowly. “She wonders whether Miriam could come out for the summer and perhaps on into the fall. Miriam has been wanting to travel for some time, I guess, and this would be the year for it since she turned twenty-one last summer.”
“Oh,” Betty said. “Well, of course she would be welcome.”
“Mom is wondering if she could work at the riding stable like I did those two summers.”
“Hey, that’s a great idea!” Steve said. “I could use all that money like you made for us those two years.”
“Steve,” Betty said, “watch what you’re saying.”
Steve laughed and Jake joined in.
“Well, I guess it did help,” Betty said. “So maybe it would be an idea to consider, as I’m certainly not hiring that English girl again. But we don’t have but two horses this year. Although I don’t imagine Miriam would care.”
“She shouldn’t,” Hannah said. “It might leave her more time for other things, as I remember us being pretty busy with four horses the year I worked.”
“I think it’s a great idea,” Steve said. “So let’s consider the matter settled. I’ll even get two more horses if Miriam’s as good with them as Hannah was.”
“They’re sisters,” Betty said. “She ought to be.”
“I think Miriam will do fine,” Steve said.
“Well then, there’s your answer,” Betty said. “If Steve has no objections, then neither do I.”
“I have no objections,” Steve said.
“Then I’ll write Mom right away,” Hannah said, “and see when Miriam can come. I have a feeling it will be fairly quickly.”
“Oh, it will be a great summer then,” Betty said, smiling from ear to ear. “I can feel it in my bones.”
Jake cleared his throat on the couch, and Steve glanced sharply at him.
“Is something wrong with this plan?” Steve asked. “Are there ministerial objections?”
“No,” Jake said. “It’s just that Betty’s comments about a good summer just reminded me that Ben Stoll is setting up a tent in Libby for Mennonite revival meetings.”
“Oh no,” Betty groaned. “Not the Mennonites in Libby. What is this world coming to, anyway?”
“I’m afraid it’s true,” Jake said.
“Do you think they’ll give us much trouble?” Steve asked.
“I hope not,” Jake said. “Bishop John has things fairly well under control, I think.”
“That’s good,” Steve said, scooping up another bowl of popcorn.
Betty groaned again, “I think I changed my mind. It’s going to be a perfectly awful summer. I can feel it in my bones.”
Four
Hannah sat writing at the kitchen table, the cabin silent around her. Signing her name with a flourish, she paused to read what she had written.
Dear Mom,
It was so good to hear from you yesterday, and thank you so much for your concern. We are doing well, and the baby is fine as far as I know. I hope and pray things will stay that way.
Jake is doing well at the furniture shop. Mr. Brunson is such a blessing to us and has become a good friend. He is coming down for supper tomorrow night. He wants cherry pie for dessert and one to take home with him. I’d better get busy soon with the food making.
Jake took me over to Betty’s last night so I could ask her about Miriam’s visit. Betty agreed at once. They were all very excited, including Steve. I think Steve wants the extra income this summer again. I don’t think Betty planned to do much with the riding stable this year since they had trouble with the English girl they hired last year. Kendra could manage, I suppose, but she doesn’t like horses that much. Plus she’s dating Mary Keim’s boy and likely has her mind on other things.
So Miriam is welcome to come. I say the sooner the better. If she wants to stay at the cabin for a while, I would love to have her. Long term of course, she could stay at Betty’s place. Jake is talking of building a larger house higher up on the ridge, but I don’t think it will happen anytime soon. Such things take money, and even if Jake is doing well, I’d hate to spend his hard-earned money on a new house unless it’s absolutely necessary. He works so hard already, and then there’s the church work yet.
Which reminds me to tell you—Jake said the Mennonites are setting up a tent revival this summer here in Libby. That’s our closest town. Jake thinks they are definitely targeting the Amish community, which seems like an awful t
hing to me. We only have one district and not that many people. Last year we lost Ben and Sylvia Stoll, the young couple you met on your visit, and it’s not like we can afford to lose any more.
I know each loss would hurt Jake and Bishop John terribly. Jake has a lot of faith in Bishop John. He thinks John’s steady hand will guide us through this time. But the reason I’m telling you this is in case it has any effect on Miriam coming to Montana. I don’t think it should, but I wanted to warn you. Jake and I certainly have no intentions of being drawn into this new thing, and I can’t imagine there being much danger to Miriam either.
Well, I have a house to clean and plans to make for Mr. Brunson’s supper, so I’d better get busy.
With much love,
Hannah
Hannah sealed the envelope and walked quickly out the front door. She glanced briefly at the mountain range shrouded in low-hanging clouds before walking down the graveled lane toward the main road. A gentle breeze from the south pushed gently at her back. Hannah spread her arms, throwing her head back and laughing softly. Summer really was just around the corner, and Miriam was coming to visit.
“It will surely be a gut year. Won’t it?” she said, looking over her shoulder and pausing as the sun broke through the clouds, flooding the distant valley in sunlight.
“It sure will be,” she whispered, still watching as the sunlight grew until the whole mountain range was filled with light. As Hannah waited, the growing light paused, and began to slowly fade away as clouds moved in.
A smile trembled on her lips before Hannah turned to walk on. At the blacktop road she placed the letter in the mailbox and raised the flag. Turning to walk back up the hill, the wind was in her face now and she spread her arms again, closing her eyes.
“Go ahead, world,” she whispered. “Make your trouble. Because I’m safe with God and with Jake. They love me.”
The gravel crunched beneath her black shoes. Hannah opened her eyes, looking toward the mountains. All was cloudy now with no sign of the earlier breakthrough of sunlight. Approaching the cabin, Hannah paused at the split-rail fence.
“Good morning, roses,” she said. “Are you happy this morning? It looks like there might be rain later for you. That’s better than my water, isn’t it?”
The roses swayed gently in the soft breeze and she laughed. Flowers couldn’t talk back, of course, but it sure would be gut to have someone in the house soon who could. A little bobli, perhaps a boy, who could coo as well as cry. He would be Jake’s boy, and a part of Jake would have come into the world to carry on his name. Or perhaps the child would be a little girl, a cute little girl, because Jake could only have cute little girls. Either way, the bobli would come to bless them with sweetness and love.
“I hope you don’t die from too much attention,” she said to the roses with one last backward glance.
Going into the cabin through the kitchen door, Hannah laid her recipe book out on the table. It was time for serious planning for Mr. Brunson’s special night. He had done so much for them and deserved the best.
Flipping through the pages, her mom’s recipe for underground ham caught her attention. Would that be the thing to make for Mr. Brunson? It tasted gut, but might it be a little fancy? Perhaps he was expecting something more Amish. More simple. Even something like mashed potatoes, gravy, and chicken.
Jah, Mr. Brunson would like the basics. With a smile, Hannah closed the book. The gravy and fried chicken could be made without recipes. Yet there needed to be more or Mr. Brunson might think she’d simply slapped something together.
There was the cherry pie of course, but something even more was needed. Hannah thought for a long moment and then found the tab for salads in her recipe book. Opening the page, her eye caught the recipe for a seven-layer salad. Jah, that was the very thing. This would add a touch of fancy, and then perhaps homemade ice cream for dessert. Mr. Brunson would be so impressed his eyes would sparkle with joy.
Hannah laughed at the thought. Homemade ice cream would be just the thing and would go perfectly with the cherry pie. When he came for supper, Mr. Brunson would have something to eat that fully expressed Jake’s and her gratitude.
Walking into the living room to the hickory desk, Hannah came back with a pen and paper and sat down at the table. Looking over the recipes, she began her grocery shopping list. There was no way she had all these items in the house. Carefully she wrote down a bag of potatoes and cream cheese to add a little extra taste to the mashed potatoes. There was enough flour and seasoning in the house for gravy, but no cherry pie filling. This summer she really would have to can cherries instead of relying on store-bought. Betty said there was an orchard north of Libby that sold cherries for a reasonable price.
Scribbling on the list, Hannah added the vegetables for the seven-layer salad, extra lettuce, and buttermilk for her chicken batter. Two bags of chicken should be enough—if she remembered correctly the bag sizes the grocery store carried. Now, did she have enough bacon for the green beans?
Stepping outside through the kitchen door, Hannah walked to the springhouse above the presently budding garden. The long rows of corn had sprouted last week already, holding their green shoots skyward this morning, apparently eager for the rain that now threatened over the mountains. One long row was devoted to tomatoes and beside it, the potatoes. Shorter rows went for green beans, carrots, and lettuce. Now that Miriam was coming, she could help with the weeding and harvesting.
Opening the springhouse door, Hannah stepped inside the cool darkness. The spring waters bubbled out of the ground here, and Jake had built the shack over the spot. Shelves lined the walls, with an open, graveled pit for vegetables and potatoes. Hannah squinted, finding a single package of bacon on the lower shelf.
So it had been gut that she checked. She also would need ice to make the ice cream…or should she cheat and bring back store-bought ice cream? It would keep in a plastic bag lowered into the cool water.
Nee…it must be homemade. Mr. Brunson deserved the best. So she needed cream. They really needed a cow. Perhaps someday when Jake could put up a larger fence since the two horses didn’t fully use the present pasture. But that could all come after the bobli.
Carefully Hannah closed the springhouse door and walked back across the lawn. Back inside the cabin, Hannah finished her list and retrieved her billfold and checkbook from above the cabinet and her bonnet and shawl from the utility room. Out in the barn she pushed open the door with both hands. Mosey wandered over at the sound, and she quickly snapped the tie rope on his halter. “That a boy,” she said, rubbing his neck. “You’re a nice horse, aren’t you?”
He whinnied and bobbed his head.
Leading him out of the stall, Hannah threw the harness over his back in two big heaves. Laughing, she tightened the chest straps while he turned his neck and head to look at her.
“I’m going to make them good and tight,” she said. “I don’t want things coming off while I’m driving alone.”
He turned his head back, and Hannah jerked on the strap, bringing it up another notch.
“There,” she said. “That’s good enough. Now we’re ready for the bridle.”
Mosey opened his mouth without any resistance as she slid in the bit, tightening the throatlatch. He could be a pain, clamping his teeth shut if he was in a bad mood.
“You’re in good spirits this morning,” she said. “Which is gut because I’m bringing back an awful lot of groceries.”
Hannah pulled on the reins, and Mosey followed her out to the buggy, swinging under the shafts by himself when she held them up.
“Good boy,” she said. “That’s the way to act. Now hold still while I fasten things.”
Slipping the tugs on, and walking completely around him one last time, Hannah threw the lines through the open storm front. Placing her hand on his bridle, she held Mosey for a few seconds before making a dash for the buggy steps. He didn’t move until she was inside and picked up the lines.
Driving
to the main road, Hannah pulled Mosey to a complete stop, checking for traffic both ways before she let out the lines. Mosey quickly settled into a steady pace, eating up the miles, as she allowed the peace of the drive to settle over her.
Englisha cars slowed down, pulling out before they zoomed past her, but she paid them no mind. Everyone seemed to drive faster around here than back East, but there had never been any Amish buggy accidents in the small community yet, so maybe the English people here in Montana were more careful.
At the edge of Libby, she tightened up on the reins. The grocery store parking lot only had a few cars near the building, and Hannah pulled up to the nearest light pole, climbing down to tie Mosey securely to the metal pipe. Walking toward the grocery store, her eye caught a large advertisement posted on the glass doors. Such posters were common on the grocery store doors, but this one brought her to a complete halt. A large picture of a tent was plastered over the pane with words in black above it: Old-Fashioned Tent Revival. Everyone welcome.
Hannah caught her breath and stared for a long moment. The Mennonites really were coming to Libby.
Five
Hannah rushed about the kitchen stirring up the last of the ice cream ingredients. Jake had come home early with the ice wrapped with blankets in the back of the buggy. He was outside now setting up the hand freezer on the walk.
“I’m ready,” Jake hollered, his voice carrying faintly through the log walls.
There was no use shouting back; her voice wouldn’t carry. Opening the kitchen door she stepped around the corner of the cabin.
“It’s almost ready,” she said. “I just have to stir in the cream.”
“The ice is melting,” Jake said, leaning against the rail fence, two bags of ice at his feet.
“I’ll be right back,” she said, turning back inside.
A Baby for Hannah (Hannah's Heart 3) Page 3
