A Dream for Hannah (34 page)

“Okay, I guess,” Hannah said to the rattle of dishes in the kitchen sink. “Sam’s a farmer. He wants to have me over to his place on a Sunday afternoon sometime.”

“Likely to help chore, right?”

“I think that’s the plan,” Hannah said. “He probably wants to see if I meet the grade.”

Kathy wrinkled her face and said, “Maybe you shouldn’t jump to conclusions too quickly. Sam seems quite smitten with you. I doubt if you doing chores has anything to do with it.”

“Whether I can do them or not may have,” Hannah said and kept her eyes on the dishes.

Kathy laughed.

“It’s not funny, Mom. I shouldn’t have to prove myself. It makes no sense at all. I thought love was supposed to just come all by itself.”

“Now, Hannah,” Kathy said, “first of all you don’t know if that is what this is, and even if it is, that’s not too unusual. You can’t blame Sam, can you? He does have to keep that farm up, the one he’s getting from his father.”

“I guess,” Hannah said, sighing in resignation. “I’ll try. Not that I don’t like cows, but it just doesn’t seem right.”

“There’s still time to say no,” Kathy said. “That’s what courtship is all about.”

“I can’t do that,” Hannah said. “It would be like walking away simply because it’s too hard. I don’t want to do that.”

“Well, love
is
hard sometimes,” Kathy said. “Life throws all kinds of things at us, and some aren’t too pleasant.”

“So I’m learning,” Hannah said as she lifted the last of the dishes out of the soapy water, rinsed them, and then placed them on the rack. She jerked a towel out of the drawer and started to wipe the plates dry.

“It’ll all work out for the best,” Kathy assured her. “It always does when we trust God. He knows what is best.”

Hannah nodded and hoped against hope her mother was right.

On Sunday night, as expected, Sam raised the question about whether or not Hannah could come over the following Sunday afternoon.

“Jah,”
she said and hoped her smile was sincere, “I can come.”

Sam was delighted, and a week later, she got into Sam’s buggy after church at two thirty.

“Did you get a chance to read the book I gave you,” Hannah asked, hoping to start a nice conversation because he hadn’t said anything beyond his usual “hi” since she’d climbed in.

“I tried to,” he said, “but I didn’t get very far. It’s pretty heavy stuff.”

“Not really,” Hannah said. From her school days, she remembered that he didn’t read much. “Perhaps it will do you good.”

“I got as far as Christian falling into the swamp,” Sam told her, a silly grin forming on his face. “I thought that was pretty stupid of him. If he had just stopped to look, there was a perfectly good set of steps to use. That evangelist, whoever he was, pointed this out to Christian after pulling him out of the mire.”

“It’s supposed to teach a lesson—” Hannah said, “a spiritual lesson about what happens when we have sin strapped to our shoulders.”

“So why doesn’t the story just come out and say that?”

“Because it’s more interesting this way.”

“It wasn’t to me,” he told her. “That’s the problem with books. They don’t just say what they want to say. You have to think and figure it out for yourself. It makes no sense to me to even bother. If I have to figure it out anyway, why not just figure it out without the books?”

If it had been dark, Hannah would have looked at him, but because it wasn’t, she kept her eyes straight ahead. Her look of dismay would have been too obvious. Clearly another tact was needed to encourage him to read books.

“Have you ever read any books that you liked?” Hannah asked.

Sam shook his head, his freckles moving with his face.

“Have you heard of
The Adventures of Tom Sawyer
or
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn?”
she asked.

“No,” he said, pulling up on the horse’s reins as they approached the Knepp driveway.

“I’ll give them to you next Sunday night,” Hannah said, her determination resolute. “Every boy ought to love those. Not that they have as much value as
Pilgrim’s Progress,
but they are interesting.”

“Are they fit for married men to read?” Sam asked.

“But you’re not married,” Hannah said.

Sam blushed. “That’s what Dad says is a good standard,” he explained. “He never said it about books but about other things. If a married man should do it, then it’s probably okay.”

Hannah shrugged in despair. “I’ve never heard that one before. Anyway, let’s see what you think about
Tom Sawyer,
okay?”

“Was it in the school library?” Sam asked.

“No,” Hannah said, “it wasn’t. Why do you ask?”

“I can’t remember seeing anything like that,” he said. “I looked at all the books there once. None of them interested me.”

“Well, maybe these will,” Hannah said.

Sam pulled up to the barn and got out to unhitch. Hannah helped him undo the traces and then waited while he went into the barn with the horse.

They walked together toward the house. Sam reached ahead of her to open the kitchen door so she could enter first. “We can go into the living room,” he said as he shut the door behind him.

She took off her bonnet but was uncertain as to where to put it, and so she carried it with her. Both of his parents were in the living room. Enos nodded at her from where he was seated on the couch. “Hi, Hannah,” he said. He had
The Budget
open in his hands, the pages dangling down the side of his lap.

Hannah nodded in return and looked back over her shoulder to see where Sam was.

Laura got up from her rocker and set her crocheting on the floor. “Sam said you were coming,” she said, reaching for the bonnet Hannah still held in her hand. “Let me take that for you.”

Hannah wondered where Sam was and glanced back toward the kitchen again.

“He’s probably looking to see if the popcorn’s ready,” Laura offered as explanation. “Just take a seat. He’ll be out when he finds it’s not made yet.”

True to her word, Sam appeared at the kitchen doorway. “Where’s the popcorn?” he asked.

“It’s not made yet,” Laura said. “So, what are you two going to be doing this afternoon?”

Sam grinned. “Why don’t we play a game of backgammon with you and Dad? You can make the popcorn later.”

“But only two can play,” Laura said.

“We can take turns,” Sam insisted. “Two watch and two play.”

“Are you up to it, Enos?” Laura asked her husband.

“I guess,” he said with a grunt and scooted forward on the couch. “I haven’t played it in a while.”

“It has been a while, but you and I used to play it a lot,” Laura reminded him. “Get your old bones up here and try your hand again.”

Enos laughed. “Well, where are we playing?”

“Out in the kitchen,” Laura said and stood to look for the game. The others followed her.

“Who goes first?” Enos asked as they took seats around the table.

“You and Mom,” Sam announced. “Then Hannah and me. The winners play winners.”

“Sounds good,” Enos said. “We need to get this done before the chores, though.”

“And the popcorn,” Sam said.

“Let’s start, then.” Laura opened the playing board as the brown and tan checkers slid across the table.

Enos made the first move once the checkers were arranged in their proper places.

Hannah noticed that Sam watched the game intently, easily offering advice to his mother.

“You just be quiet,” she finally said. “I usually beat you anyway.”

“Not always,” Sam said with a boyish grin. “Just sometimes.”

The match was a close one with Laura ahead at first, and then Enos pulled off a string of double sixes right at the end.

“That’s not fair,” Laura protested.

“It’s just a game,” Enos said. “Enjoy your defeat.”

“It’s still not fair,” she complained as he moved his last piece home.

“Now I get to play the winner of you two,” Enos pronounced triumphantly to Sam and Hannah.

Sam led out first, and Hannah followed with a careful throw of her dice. They were even till the bottom of the board, and then Sam threw a couple of twos, and Hannah pulled ahead. It wasn’t even close when she finally brought her last checker home.

“That’s good, Hannah,” Laura said. “Really good.” Sam didn’t look too happy, but Hannah figured it was just a game. He’d have to get used to it. Games could turn out either way.

“Okay, now it’s us two,” Enos said to Hannah. “You seem to know what you’re doing.”

“Just throw the row of sixes again,” Laura said sarcastically, “just to be fair, you know.”

“I’ll try,” Enos assured her.

This time Hannah led. Again, as with Sam, it wasn’t even close beyond the bottom of the board.

“Where are your sixes?” Laura had started to rub it in halfway through the game. “Hannah is beating you.”

“She must have played this a lot,” Enos suggested with a laugh.

“Not really,” Hannah said. “Maybe it’s just luck.”

Enos grunted as Laura set up the board again. Then she glanced at the clock and announced that there was still just enough time for popcorn before chores if she started right now.

“I hope so,” Sam said. “I wouldn’t want to miss that on a Sunday afternoon.”

Hannah mentally noted that Sam liked his popcorn. Obviously this would be expected in the future after they were married.

At four, Enos and Sam left for the barn to get the cows in. Hannah went into the bedroom to change into some old clothing Laura offered her. When Laura announced that it was time for them to go, they walked outside together to the barn. Hannah figured it would often be this way in her future as part of this family.

The cows were already lined up in their stanchions, licking at the little dash of feed in front of them.

“You’ll just watch,” Laura said, “since you’ve probably never milked before.”

“I’ve milked by hand,” Hannah said in an attempt to redeem herself.

“This is different,” Laura said. “Here we milk with
milkers
as you can see.”

“Is there something I can do?” Hannah glanced around. There didn’t seem to be.

Laura thought for a moment and then suggested that Hannah wash the cow’s udders. “Not a pleasant job,” Laura said, puckering up her face, “but it’s something you could do.”

Hannah figured the moment of truth had come and that she had better jump to it if she was to survive Sam’s way of life. “Sure, I’ll try,” she said.

Laura offered her the bucket of water and gave her instructions.

Hannah leaned carefully against the first cow’s hindquarters with the cloth in hand. A sharp kick would do her in, she figured, but the task had to be done. Bent over, Hannah closely followed the instructions she had been given. She used the washcloth to clean the entire area the
milkers
would touch. Despite slipping on something slimy, she scrubbed pieces of dirt and manure from the cow. When she finished the first cow, she knew it had been done right.

Laura confirmed the point. “That’s right,” she said, nodding. “Now just move on to the next one.”

Twenty cows later, Hannah had fully mastered the technique. She also now smelled like a cow.

Sam passed by and seemed satisfied. “Looks like she’s doing real well,” he said to his mother.

Hannah straightened her back, causing Sam to probably wonder if she was up to it. Disappointment filled her, but Hannah continued on to the twenty-first cow.

When the chores were done, Hannah walked to the house with Laura before the men came in. She had time to change and help with the family’s supper before she and Sam left together to attend the hymn sing. Sam seemed in high spirits, humming to himself in the buggy. That was another thing he would need to work on, Hannah decided. One didn’t hum in other people’s presence. It wasn’t good manners. But that would all come later. The day had been full enough already.

“We’re doing the last of the shocking next week,” Sam said, interrupting her thoughts.

“Yes,” Hannah said, assuming he meant the threshing crew.

“I was wondering if you could come over, perhaps in the afternoon, to help.”

She looked at him in bewilderment. “But the threshing crew does that.”

“Oh,” Sam said, “they were already there. This is just a small field that wasn’t ready. We have to do it ourselves. All the help we can get would be appreciated.”

Hannah’s head spun. Would Sam pick her up, or was she supposed to drive over herself? Would he think it a weakness to ask for a ride? Finally she simply asked, “What time?”

“After lunch on Thursday,” Sam said.

“Okay, I’ll be there if Mom doesn’t object,” Hannah said.

Sam nodded, slapped the reins, and hummed softly.

After the hymn sing, he took her home and dropped her off at her front door.

“See you next week,” he said and drove down the driveway.

Hannah listened to his buggy wheels fade into the night. So this was the way life would be. Well, it might not be too bad. At least he knew how to play games. She would have to work hard, but there were worse things. Softly she tiptoed into the house and upstairs to bed.

She took
The Adventures of Tom Sawyer
off
her
little bookshelf and laid it on the dresser.