A Hope for Hannah (8 page)

“Oh?” She looked up in surprise, wondering what Jake would want in town. They had little money or need to spend it, with or without his joblessness.

“Bishop Nisley mentioned the hardware store might have a job. The manager had asked him about Amish labor the other week. I just thought of that.”

“What do they pay?” Hannah said, wondering aloud.

“I don’t know, but anything is better than what I have now.”

“I would hate to see you just give away your time. They can’t pay much.”

“We will make it,” Jake said. “God will help us. It starts, though, with doing what you can do even if it doesn’t pay that much.”

The room settled into silence for a few minutes, and then Jake asked, “Has the
Family Life
come this month?”

“Yesterday. It’s in the bedroom.”

Jake left the room, returned a minute later, and settled back in his chair, scanning the table of contents and then flipping quickly to a specific page.

Curious, Hannah leaned over to read the title of the article, “Learning to Make Home Businesses Profitable.”

“Interesting,” Jake mumbled, his eyes on the page.

“What’s interesting?”

For an answer he read out loud, “The larger Amish communities have long prospered in the area of small business, many of them having ready and willing buyers available in the pool of tourists who visit their areas. This has produced cottage industries of furniture makers, vegetable growers, goat farmers, and a number of others specific to the area.

“Now, though, the need for small businesses is growing, especially in our smaller communities without readily available factory jobs. They also provide options for younger families in communities where farmland now sells at exorbitant prices.”

Jake stopped and then said, “The article goes on with some good ideas on how to start and what one might do.”

“You’re thinking of starting your own business?” Hannah asked.

Jake shrugged, his eyes returning to the article. “I don’t know. Maybe I could.”

“What would you do?”

“I don’t know yet.”

Hannah felt like probing deeper but decided against it. It had been enough for one day.

Not long after, the two headed for bed.

“Do you think the bear will return tonight?” Hannah asked.

Jake glanced out the window, pondering the bright night sky. “I don’t think so. It didn’t find much here last night. Maybe it’s done.”

“I hope so,” Hannah said.

She fell asleep easily, listening to Jake’s steady breathing beside her. She woke only once, late in the night with the moon still full and bright in their bedroom window. She listened for strange sounds that might be the bear and, hearing none, slipped back into sleep.

Nine

The next morning Jake prepared to drive to Libby and begin his job hunt right after breakfast.

“The hardware store will be open by the time I get into town,” he told Hannah as he left for the barn to harness their driving horse.

Moments later Hannah watched him steer the buggy toward the main road and felt forsaken, even though she was used to his absence each day. Perhaps it was the uncertainty of what he would find once he got to town she reasoned as she stepped outside to look at the Cabinet Mountains.

Morning was when she especially enjoyed being outside. The ever-sharp freshness of this country invigorated her. Today, though, the mountains looked forbidding with their clouds still hanging heavy on the peaks.

Well,
she told herself,
it’s just the weather. Jake will know what to do.
But still the uneasiness wouldn’t leave.

After Hannah started the breakfast dishes, she heard a truck approaching and knew at once it had to be Mr. Brunson. She went out to the driveway to meet him.

He rolled down his window as she called, “Good morning! I hope you have some good news about the grizzly.”

Mr. Brunson shook his head. “Sorry. The state isn’t going to be of much help.”

Hannah’s face fell as she envisioned many more nights with the bear outside the cabin walls.

“He said that with winter coming soon, the bear will hibernate. All bears do. He thinks its pattern might change in the spring.”

“I guess we’ll have to live with it, then,” Hannah said, hopelessness in her voice.

“Sorry. I’d shoot the thing, but you know how that would go.”

Hannah nodded. She didn’t want to encourage breaking the law. Then she blurted out their news, the desire to share with someone else having become too great. “Jake lost his job last night. His boss stopped in after you left.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, and with winter coming.” Mr. Brunson looked concerned. “Any prospects?”

“He’s in town looking right now. He hopes the hardware store has an opening.”

“Well, I hope he finds something. Jake’s a good man,” Mr. Brunson said as he put his gear shift in reverse.

“Don’t forget about supper,” Hannah said. “Mom and Dad will be here in a few Sundays. They’re staying a whole week.”

“To a good supper, then,” Mr. Brunson said. “I’ll look forward to that. It will be nice to meet your folks.” Then he backed out of the driveway and gave her a final wave as he drove toward the main road.

Hannah felt the aloneness creep in again and wished it were Sunday already. She would see Betty or Bishop John’s wife then. There were others too, but Hannah was looking forward to the comforting hug Betty would give her when she told her aunt about Jake losing his job.

While Hannah grew up, Betty had always seemed much older, almost ancient from a little girl’s perspective. Even during the summers when Hannah helped with the riding stable, she thought of Betty’s age that way. Of late, though, the distance between them had become much smaller. How that could be, Hannah wasn’t certain.

Being ancient herself was not an attractive answer, but she began to think that maybe that was what was happening.
I do feel kind of ancient all of a sudden
—
with the bear, the baby, and now Jake’s job loss.

The baby.
For the first time that morning, joy filled her. A child, her and Jake’s child, and she had not told her mother yet. Should she? This life inside of her. This new beginning. This great unknown.
Is this the
way all expectant mothers feel? I suppose so, but this feels very much like I am the very first woman to ever feel this way. What joy!

How strange,
she thought.
I don’t even know whether this child is a boy or a girl, yet it doesn’t seem to matter. Is this how Mom felt
—
not knowing, yet feeling the capacity to love regardless?

How will this child turn out? Will it look like Jake or me? When it lays in the crib, so small and newborn, will Betty say she can tell exactly where this child comes from? Likely so,
Hannah thought and smiled at the vision of Betty bending over the side rail and discerning the distant lineage of this newcomer.

Her mother needed to be told. She could write, but that didn’t seem to be the thing to do. Already she could feel the words form in her mind, in letters on the page. Yet, she paused. Her mom was coming soon, so why not wait and tell her in person?

Yes, she quickly decided she would wait. It would be more fun. It would make her feel closer. She felt tears form. How wonderful it would be to tell her mother while she was sitting in the living room, surrounded by the walls of her cabin—Jake’s and her cabin. This would make it so much more real.

Still, communion Sunday seemed a long way off. Her parents would stay in the spare bedroom during their visit, and that needed preparation or at least a good cleaning. But not yet. If she cleaned it now, the room would just get dirty again before her mother arrived.

No, it would require a last-minute rush to prepare, making everything as spotless as it could be in a log cabin. The dust and dirt were downsides to living in a log cabin, but she hoped her mother would see the plus side too. “Romantic” was not a word her mother would use, of course, but it was the word that occurred to Hannah.

Then she remembered where Jake had gone this morning. So quickly had she forgotten and forgotten also why she wanted to move back East. But did she really? Like Jake, she loved it here. It was the very opposite of what she grew up with, but she dearly hoped it wouldn’t be taken away from them.

This was no doubt what Jake felt and why he was less shaken by the present than she was. If you knew where you belonged, it made the staying easier and the leaving harder. If only she could be as certain as Jake. If only she had his faith that it would all work out okay.

Hannah returned to the kitchen. Her dishes were done for the morning, and she turned her attention to other matters—mending, weeding, and the many small chores that presented themselves afresh every morning.

Just before noon she heard the clatter of Jake’s buggy on the gravel and hurried out to the porch. One look at his face told her everything.

“I’m sorry,” she said even before he stepped onto the porch.

He looked as if his shoulders carried a great burden. She was struck by how out of place it looked on someone so young.

“Nothing,” he said simply. “Mr. Howard said in a few weeks maybe, when the snow season starts but not now.”

“What are we going to do?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I think I might have to start some business on my own.”

“Like you were reading about in
Family Life?”

Jake nodded.

Hannah wasn’t sure what to think. “You’ll need money for that.”

“I know,” Jake agreed.

“But from where?”

He shook his head.

“My parents are coming soon. Maybe you could ask them,” she offered.

Jake shook his head again. “Not your parents. We’re not asking them for money. I’m not taking the chance of losing it.”

Not sure whether Jake was being stubborn or strong, she studied his face.

“I’m not asking,” he repeated, seemingly reading her thoughts.

“But the baby—” she said.

“I know. Something will have to be done,” he replied, and he lapsed into silence.

“I’ll have lunch ready soon,” Hannah said after a few moments, hoping that would somehow provide a little comfort to his obviously bruised feelings. She wished she could do more, but what?

“I’ll put the horse away,” Jake said and returned to the hitching post where Mosey waited patiently to be let out of the buggy traces.

Hannah had sandwiches ready when he came in. Jake sat down at the kitchen table. Outside the early clouds still hung around, having grown darker now.

“Do you think it’s going to rain?” she asked in an attempt to make conversation.

“It could.” Jake didn’t offer anything more.

“Do you think your logging job might be available in the spring?” she asked.

“I doubt it,” he said quietly but didn’t elaborate.

“Why?” she asked.

“There’s something about the business,” Jake offered. “I don’t think it’s prospering very well. Logging’s not the thing to be involved in right now.”

She trusted Jake’s instincts in the matter and laid her hand on his arm.

“Hannah, you still think we should move back East, don’t you?” he asked.

Surprised that it was occurring to him now, she hesitated. “I think we need to do what’s best for all of us, including our baby.”

“So do I,” Jake said, “but I really do think we should stick it out a little longer.”

“I don’t doubt you,” she whispered even though her courage was weak.

“If God wants us here, we should stay,” Jake said, apparently in an argument with himself, “no matter what.”

Not sure how to take that—as if God came down and told people where to live—Hannah puzzled over how to answer. “I have feelings both ways,” she ventured. “Today I wanted to stay, but then I think of the money and the baby.”

“I know,” Jake said, “me too.”

They finished their sandwiches in silence—not an uncomfortable silence, just a troubled one. She wished it wasn’t so, but the fact that Jake would be around for the rest of the day turned out to be more of a disturbance than she had expected. He sat and read while she cleaned, and then he went out to the barn.