A Hope for Hannah (34 page)

On the Friday before Christmas, a fierce snowstorm blew in from Idaho. Mr. Howard had insisted Jake leave work at the hardware store early and get home while he could. By the time Jake pulled into the driveway, the storm was gathering its full strength.

Hannah watched Jake unhitch Mosey as snow swirled furiously around them. Jake pulled on Mosey’s reins, trying to get him to move inside more quickly. Apparently the horse, after his hurried drive from town, was too tired to care. Finally Mosey relented. Jake quickly got him settled in his stall and then rushed to the house. Reaching the porch, he shook the snow from his coat and hat before entering with a sigh.

“Quite some storm,” he said. Then he quickly added, “Look what I have!”

“What?” she asked.

“A bonus check!” Jake drew a piece of paper from his coat pocket and waved it around. “Mr. Howard sold all the furniture we’ve made so far. It’s partly due to Christmas sales, but it doesn’t matter. Sales are sales. He kept his promise and paid me my share of the profits.” Jake grinned broadly with satisfaction.

“That’s wonderful!” Hannah let relief flow through her freely, though she felt a little ashamed that money should mean so much to her. In their situation that was just the way it was.

“Two mortgage payments,” Jake pronounced. “Two! That will put us past January.”

“We might need it,” Hannah said, her mind on the snow outside. She could just see them snowed in for weeks on end and Jake unable to work.

“I think the worst is over, moneywise,” Jake said, still wearing his broad grin. “The furniture shop seems to be a winner.”

“I hope so,” Hannah said. “I’ll get supper going. I didn’t expect you home early.” She started toward the kitchen.

“Wait,” Jake said. “I bought us something. I thought it was time.”

“What?” she asked, puzzled.

“It’s still out in the buggy. I wanted to tell you first.”

Hannah waited, letting Jake take his time.

“Meat,” Jake said. “Hamburger from the store. I want us to have some for supper.”

“Can we afford it?” It was all Hannah could think to say.

“With this check, yes, we can,” he said, his grin returning. He lifted up the check again. “I’ll cash it Monday. We’ll have money left over after we pay the bank for the cabin.”

“Meat,” she said. “I’ve forgotten how much I missed it. Have you thought of it?”

“First thing,” Jake said. “I know you’ve been missing it.”

“I wasn’t complaining,” she made sure to say.

“I know you weren’t. You’re too good a wife to complain.”

“And
you
have a silver tongue!” she said.

“I thought maybe golden?” he teased.

“Silver is good enough. Now, you go bring in the meat. I need to start frying it if you want some for supper.”

“I’ll be right back,” Jake said, reaching for his coat again. As he opened the front door, the snow and wind blasted into the cabin.

“The storm’s getting worse,” Hannah said.

“We are snug as two bugs in a rug,” Jake said as he disappeared out the door, the latch firmly clinking in place behind him.

Hannah stoked the fire in the stove. When Jake came in, she thawed the hamburger over the stove. Soon the rich aroma of freshly fried hamburger filled the cabin.

They sat down to eat, Jake prayed aloud, and the two served themselves healthy-sized portions of the meat. Jake, to Hannah’s teasing, squeezed ketchup liberally onto his plate and dipped each piece of meat before he brought it to his mouth.

As she watched him, Hannah felt her own pleasure grow.
Is this not how things are supposed to be
—
life with my husband, the two of us gathered around the dinner table with snow blasting outside? Closed in together?
It made the moment feel as though all the outside problems they could ever face were far away. Perhaps if life was changing for them—if things were really getting better—she might have an answer to her silent wish.

The snow continued to fall as they went to bed. Drifts were now up to the top of the front porch, but Hannah didn’t care. Jake’s check had brought them a measure of security that set aside worries about the weather. Let it snow. Let it do its worst. They were safe inside.

When they awoke in the morning, the snow was still falling, and it continued throughout the day. Jake stayed inside, studying his German lesson book and not seeming to mind the forced imprisonment.

By evening the outside world seemed completely shut down, and still the snow fell. Jake raised the question that had just occurred to Hannah at nearly the same time.

“Do you think there will be church tomorrow?”

“I don’t know,” she said. She walked to the front window and looked out. It was hard for her to imagine how a buggy could get through the drifts piled in the yard, let alone those on the road.

“I wonder how we will know?” Jake thought out loud.

“Do people ever stay home from church here?” Hannah wondered aloud. Rarely in Indiana did such a thing happen. The roads were usually plowed before a person had time to decide to stay home. Montana, though, was strange country, Hannah reminded herself. This was definitely not Indiana.

“I guess it depends,” Jake said. “I’m going over to Steve and Betty’s to find out.”

“No, Jake, don’t,” she said firmly. “It’s too late in the day. You could get stuck in those drifts, and it will be dark before long.”

“Well, maybe you’re right,” he said, bending to her logic. “I guess we’ll just have to wait until morning.”

Hannah thought the problem was solved and rose to prepare supper.

“I’m going to see Mr. Brunson,” Jake said suddenly a few minutes later.

“Now?” she asked from the kitchen.

“He might be having trouble,” Jake said. “Someone should check up on him.”

“You just have the itch to get out of the house, that’s all.”

“I suppose that’s part of it,” Jake said with a grin, but Hannah could tell it was more than that. And since she too was concerned about Mr. Brunson, she made no further objection.

“Just don’t get stuck,” she said as Jake bundled up. “I’ll have supper ready by the time you get back.”

Watching Jake struggle through the snow troubled Hannah, but she comforted herself with the knowledge that it would take a lot to stop Jake or even slow him down. He took huge strides up the slope, tracking back and forth to avoid the worse drifts, but made good time.

When he got back almost an hour later, he looked happier than when he left. The time outside of the cabin in the elements had done him good.

“No problems,” Jake said. “The old man seems well settled in. He has plenty of wood and food. He said he doesn’t need to get out till spring, if necessary.” Jake laughed at the thought.

“Did he say anything about his son?” Hannah asked. “Has he heard from him?”

“No…at least he didn’t say anything to me about him,” Jake said and then turned to another subject. “While I still have my coat on, I’m going out to the end of the driveway for the mail.”

“For the mail?” Hannah asked in astonishment. “Surely no mailman went out today. Besides, supper’s almost ready.”

“They probably plowed the main road. We have all night for supper. There’s not much daylight left. If there
is
mail, I want to get it before dark.”

“You’ll get stuck. Really, you will.”

“I also want to see the main road—see if it’s as bad as it is at Mr. Brunson’s. Maybe the roads aren’t plowed after all.”

“The mailman hasn’t come. You’re just wasting your time.”

“I’ve got it to waste,” he said, already partway out the cabin door.

This time Hannah didn’t watch him go. If he could make it up the mountain, he surely could make it down to the main road. But then as darkness fell and Jake hadn’t come back yet, she began to worry a little. This time there was no church business that could be keeping him away. Instead, visions of Jake stuck in a snow bank flashed through her mind.

With supper ready and spread on the table, she looked out the window for some sign of Jake. Surely he ought to be back by now. His tracks were still visible in the snow, blown over a little but there. What were not there were any return tracks.

Hannah sighed and went back to the kitchen, where she tried to occupy herself. When she realized the supper would soon be cold, she began to worry more about Jake. He knew supper was nearly ready. What on earth could happen on a walk to the end of the road?

She stuck her face out the cabin door and was startled by the sharp chill in the air. Apparently the temperature had fallen rapidly. Her emotions swung from irritation with Jake to genuine concern that something might have happened.

Finally she knew she had to do something. There was no phone to call out with and the thought of a trek to call on Mr. Brunson for help was abandoned when she realized that the hike up there would be as arduous as the hike out to the road. Besides, it might accomplish nothing—Mr. Brunson was old and could hardly be expected to traipse through such large snowdrifts.

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