Hannah's Journey (20 page)

She could not help but think how wondrous were the ways that God led his children in directions they could not imagine and often fought against. Take Levi…

“Good morning,” he said, coming alongside her and relieving her of the basket she’d used to gather the eggs.

“Levi Harnisher, you startled me,” she chastised him, but she was smiling and she reached up and caressed his cheek with her fingers.

Levi set the basket down and wrapped his arms around her, “Hello, wife,” he murmured.

“Not yet,” she said, “but before this day’s over.”

Their kiss spoke of all the promise and hope they both held for their years together. Hannah even dared to hope that there might be children and she knew that Levi wanted that as well. He would not speak of it because he knew that it upset her to think she might not be able to give him the family every Amish man hopes for.

The rumble of metal wheels and clop of horse hooves on the shell-packed path that led to Gunther’s house announced the arrival of their first guests—the wedding party come to help set up and welcome the others. Because this was her second marriage, theirs would be a quieter ceremony with far less of the usual fuss that came with a first wedding.

Hannah had made herself a new dress, apron and covering—items she would wear on Sundays for the coming years. Levi had bought a new suit barren of the lapels and buttons that had decorated the suits he’d worn as a businessman.

“Wife,” he whispered against her temple as he released her and gave her back the egg basket. He greeted the men and helped unload the benches that would need to be set up for the ceremony, and later would convert
to tables for the two meals to be served in the daylong celebration.

Behind the church bench wagon, women were spilling out of a small parade of buggies. They talked softly but excitedly as they started toward the house bearing covered dishes of food, and carrying the good Sunday clothing they would change into once the work of setting up was done.

An hour later, the members of the wedding party had all had their breakfast and changed into their finer clothes. They took up their posts, waiting to greet the guests as they arrived. And arrive they did—on foot, by buggy and by three-wheeled bicycle—all anxious to witness the marriage of the widow to the reformed circus baron. To Levi’s surprise, his sisters and their families had arrived along with Matthew and Mae a few days earlier. They had quietly embraced the brother they had not seen in decades, and Levi had welcomed them back into his life with open arms.

Now Hannah and Levi waited with the bishop in Gunther’s small bedroom. While Bishop Troyer spoke to them of the duties and obligations of marriage and family, Hannah could hear the guests singing hymns. She found herself thinking of the times she had sat in the business car of Levi’s circus train, the strains of the circus band’s brass fanfares surrounding her. But the sound of voices raised in song without benefit of instrumental accompaniment seemed twice as sweet.

“Shall we?” Bishop Troyer rose and indicated that they should follow him into the larger room where their guests waited. Hannah’s smile widened as she saw Hans, Fred and Jake seated together in the back row of the men’s section. Then spotted Lily and three of
the other women she had befriended seated in the very center of the women’s section, their floral hats standing out like parrots among the more somber coverings of the Amish women. She squeezed Levi’s hand and nodded and he grinned down at her.

“Surprise,” he mouthed. “I got special permission.”

To either side of the room sat the attendants or
newehockers
for each of them. Pleasant, Lydia and Hannah’s soon-to-be sister-in-law, Mae, sat opposite Caleb, Gunther and Matthew. Hannah smoothed the skirt of her new deep blue dress and straightened her cape and apron before taking her place on the bench reserved for Levi and her.

The ceremony began with prayer followed by one of the ministers reading a passage of scripture. Levi had requested the Beatitudes for he reminded them all that it was this passage that had turned his life around and brought him home to his faith and to Hannah.

The sermon seemed to go on forever and Hannah could not help but smile as she recalled how Levi had admitted that the lengthy sermons was one part of being Amish that was going to take some getting used to. She couldn’t help but wonder how their friends from the circus were surviving the closeness of the room and the droning of the minister’s words when she heard a distinct snore coming from somewhere behind her, and then Jake’s startled yelp when Fred obviously nudged him.

The minister paused for a second to allow the titters of laughter to die and then droned on. Finally, he called Hannah and Levi forward, administered the required questioning that was akin to an English couple
stating their vows and then blessed them. As soon as the bishop stepped forward to offer the final prayer, Hannah felt an aura of excitement permeate the room. And the moment the prayer ended, the room exploded into action.

Women hurried off to the kitchen while men transformed the benches into tables set in a u-shape in the yard. As soon as the tables were in place, the women filled them with a feast of roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, creamed celery, coleslaw, fruit salad, tapioca rice pudding, applesauce, and bread, butter and jam. For dessert there was Pleasant’s cherry pie and hand-cranked ice cream.

“Who gets married at the crack of dawn on a Tuesday?” Jake asked as he made a show of stretching and yawning and then grabbed Levi in a bearhug.

“Eight o’clock is hardly the crack of dawn,” Levi told him. “And Tuesday’s a day as good as any other day.”

“Hello, Hannah,” Jake said. “I’ve missed you—Ida’s okay but not nearly so pretty.”

Hannah blushed and Levi leaned in to explain Jake’s mistake to him. “It is not our way…”

“…to pass out compliments,” Jake finished. “Just stating the facts, my friend. Nothing more.”

“We’re so pleased you came,” Hannah said, noticing the other guests hanging back and whispering among themselves, reluctant to approach the newlyweds with the outsiders around. “We…”

“…need to attend to your other guests,” Lily said, taking Jake firmly by the arm. “Go talk horses with Gunther,” she instructed, and winked at Hannah as she and the other women from the circus headed off to see if they could help in the kitchen.

Once the tables were set up and the food had been brought out, Hannah and Levi took their places at one corner of the “u” with the women sitting down the side of the table next to Hannah and the men next to Levi. Hannah sat on Levi’s left as she would now whenever they went anywhere in the buggy. As tradition dictated, Hannah’s family from Ohio and Matthew and Levi’s sisters and their families ate in the kitchen.

At first, Hannah had worried that Lily and the other circus women might be uncomfortable. Jake, Fred and Hans could easily take part in the male conversation about baseball, livestock and such, but the women were a different matter.

“They’ll be all right,” Levi whispered, reading her mind as usual.

And then she heard Lily say, “The one thing I have never been able to understand is how you get all that stuffing inside the chicken.” That led to a sharing of recipes for stuffing a chicken, which led to a discussion of the variety of recipes for stuffing which led to Lily’s memories of her mother’s Thanksgiving turkey and so on, until Hannah knew she had nothing to worry about. She could not remember a time when she had been happier in her life. And she could not imagine that the future might hold any more joy than she was experiencing at that very moment.

As soon as everyone had eaten, the crowd broke off into small groups. The younger guests played games or flocked to the shade of a tree to talk, while single men and women paired off or gathered in small clusters. Hannah and Levi made the rounds visiting with each
guest until it was time for yet another meal, then more visiting, and finally around ten o’clock, the guests took their leave.

As Hannah stood with Levi saying their goodbyes, she could not help but marvel at the fact that on this day she had become Mrs. Levi Harnisher. Her life had changed so much in just a few short months and yet she had never felt more certain of her path than she did on this night standing side by side with Levi.

“You must be exhausted,” Levi said, wrapping his arm around her waist as she waved to the last of the buggies making its way down the lane.

“Oh, no,” she protested. “I want this day to go on and on.” But she could not stifle the yawn that forced its way through her lips, and Levi laughed.

“Walk with me,” he invited, holding out his hand to her.

From this day forward, I will always walk with you,
she thought as she took his hand and walked with him down the now-deserted lane.

“Looks like we’ll have good weather to begin our journey north tomorrow,” he mused, glancing up at the clear, starlit sky and crescent moon.

“Not a cloud in the sky,” she replied. But although the heavens were filled with stars, there was only one cloud hanging over the perfect day. Regardless of what Levi might say, she wanted so much to give him children. At Levi’s insistence, she had been examined by a doctor and told that there was no physical reason she could not conceive. But the problem had never been conceiving. The problem had been bringing the child to term, and the doctor had admitted to her in private that he could not predict such a thing.

Levi felt the tension that had gripped her as they walked. He let go of her hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Let’s sit awhile,” he said, leading her to the tangled roots of a large banyan tree where they sat side by side on one of the giant tendrils running out from the tree’s base, their arms around each other.

They were both nervous, he realized—a product of the fact that they did not yet know each other’s habits. “Are you happy?” he asked.

She shifted until she could look up at him. “Yes. And you?” She traced the shape of his mouth with her finger, and he smiled.

“I cannot recall a time when I felt more at peace, more content with what the future might bring as I do at this moment, Hannah. Whatever challenges life may present to us, I know that with you at my side we can meet them.”

“And God’s blessing,” she reminded him gently.

“For me, you are that blessing,” he said. “My wife—my love,” he murmured as he kissed her.

Her prayer covering scratched his chin as she laid her cheek against his chest and sighed happily.

“Hannah?”

“Mmm?”

“Now that I’m a married man, I’ll have to grow out my beard,” he reminded her.

She laughed, the sound muffled against his shirt until she raised her face to his and stroked his smooth cheek. “Perhaps you can give your razor and shaving brush to Caleb. I saw him running his hand over his jaw the other day the way you sometimes do.”

“Peach fuzz,” Levi said and laughed. “But then, he is growing up.”

“It will be another bond between you,” she reminded him.

“
Ja.
I’ll give them to him before we leave tomorrow.” He pulled her close again, but after a moment she sat up and faced him.

“I have a gift for you, my husband,” she said softly. Then she reached up to remove her prayer covering and his breath caught as he realized that for the first time he would see her hair undone.

“Let me,” he said.

She dropped her hands to her sides and waited while he removed the long hairpins that held the weight of her hair in place. He took his time, laying each pin in a cup of her hands so none would be lost.

He pulled the last pin free and watched as her hair tumbled to her waist, thick and heavy against her back in waves made permanent by years of the same twists and turns. He looked forward to the morning when he would watch her tame it all into the precise bun that he had come to love. And for all the days and nights of their lives this would be their special moment—that moment of release when he and he alone would know the full blossom of her beauty. And then in the morning she would tuck it all away again. They were man and wife and for as long as God gave them, neither of them would ever be alone—or lonely—again.

They sat together in silence, him stroking his fingers through her hair as she rested her head against his shoulder. He kissed her temple.

“We should go in,” she murmured. “It’s been a long and wonderful day.”

“With more to come tomorrow and the day after that and the day…”

She sat up and pulled the weight of her hair over one shoulder. Then she took his hand in hers. “Pray with me,” she said softly. She fit her fingers between each of his and turned so that her forehead and his were touching as they bowed their heads and silently thanked God for the blessings He had given them.

T
hey returned from their wedding trip two days before Christmas and as far as Hannah was concerned the best gift she could possibly receive was seeing Caleb again.

“Look at you,” she kept saying as Caleb rolled his eyes and Levi gave him a sympathetic smile. “Why, you’ve grown and filled out so much.”

“Ma, it’s only been six weeks,” he reminded her.

“Still, look at you,” she repeated and hugged him.

“How’s the horse business?” Levi asked.

“I’ve got eleven customers,” Caleb reported.

“Twelve,” Levi corrected and nodded toward their newly built barn. “I bought a pair of Belgians from Jake to help with the planting, and there’s a mare in there you could ride from farm to farm. Might save you some time and make it possible to add new customers.”

Caleb’s eyes grew huge with delight. “Really?”

Levi shrugged. “Go see for yourself.” He wrapped his arm around Hannah’s shoulder as they watched the boy take off for the barn at a run. A moment after he entered the barn, they heard a loud cheer and a moment
after that, he came out leading the gray dappled mare by a lead rope.

“You’ll spoil him,” Hannah said.

“We’ll consider it an early Christmas present. Besides, all I’m doing is encouraging his work ethic,” Levi protested. Then with a wink, he added, “The only person I’m interested in spoiling is you.” He pulled her close and kissed her forehead.

His soft beard brushed her skin and she looked up at him. In the six weeks since their wedding he had grown the beard that all married Amish men had. But Levi’s beard was a rich shade of copper and she would not have believed it possible, but he was even more handsome with it than he had been clean-shaven.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, the wide brim of his straw hat shading his worried expression.

“Better,” she assured him. She was well aware of what her problem was but Levi had not yet caught on and she was not yet ready to tell him.

She was pregnant. By her count, she was entering her second month and as had always been her pattern, she was suffering from morning sickness. She knew she should explain it to Levi but then what if she lost this baby as she had all the others? He would be devastated. Watching him with his nieces and nephews and then hers as they traveled around during their wedding trip, she had seen how very much he enjoyed being around children. He would be such a wonderful father—already was one to Caleb. How could she disappoint him? She almost wished she weren’t pregnant.

The thought shocked her and she silently begged God’s forgiveness.
Thy will be done…
she reminded herself firmly. Whether or not she carried this child to
term was not in her hands or Levi’s—it was God’s will and there was a reason for whatever way things went. But she could not help praying nightly for their child’s health and well-being.

“Are you sure you’re up to having everyone come here?” Levi was asking her as they watched Caleb mount the horse bareback and ride around the farmyard.

They had insisted on hosting the celebration known as “second Christmas” held on the twenty-sixth. “Of course. Everyone is bringing something to share so there’s not much work to do.”

“And you’re sure having Lily and the others is all right?”

“They are our friends,” she said firmly. “And they have no place to go for the day. If that is upsetting to anyone, well, then…” Actually, she wasn’t sure. She knew there were some in the small Amish community who did not care for their ongoing association with these outsiders.

“Too worldly,” she had heard one matron hiss to her neighbor as she passed the two women after last Sunday’s services.

And Pleasant had told her outright that there were those in the community who were less than convinced that Levi’s baptism had been legitimate. “Merle says that several of the men think he came back to the church because of you. Merle also says that if Levi were sincere, he would have no further association with his former employees.”

Hannah had learned that “Merle says” had become a staple in Pleasant’s conversation over the weeks that she and Levi had been gone. Merle Obermeier was a
widower who had made no secret of his decision to pursue Pleasant as his second wife and the mother of his four children. He was a decade older than Pleasant, a dour and suspicious man who always seemed to look for the dark side of things.

“Do you love him?” Hannah had asked Pleasant after becoming aware of the relationship.

Pleasant had shrugged and Hannah’s heart had gone out to her. Did Pleasant not deserve the same happiness that Hannah had found with Levi? Surely there was a man out there somewhere who could give her sister-in-law that kind of happiness.

“Don’t just settle because you think…”

“I don’t just think,” Pleasant had replied bitterly. “I know. Merle Obermeier may be my last chance. He’s a good man, Hannah.”

And Hannah had understood that the discussion of Pleasant’s future was closed. Well, Merle Obermeier might think otherwise but she knew that Levi had genuinely found his faith. He seemed almost relieved to be back living the plain life of his youth. As for Lily and the others, Merle could disapprove but Hannah and Levi would not turn their backs on their English friends. People would just have to understand. And if they didn’t? Well, she had no doubt that Levi would deal with that if the time ever came.

Levi was aware that Hannah might be pregnant. The signs were all there, and yet she said nothing. In the mornings when she fought against waves of nausea, she mumbled something about a virus and sipped ginger tea to settle her stomach. He knew why she was keep
ing the news to herself. She was afraid of miscarrying and nothing he could do or say could quell that fear.

He had talked to the doctor privately, seeking the man’s assurance that there was no medical reason why Hannah could not give birth. The doctor had advised patience. “The one thing you don’t want to be doing is adding to her fears.”

But Levi felt such a compulsion to care for his wife and unborn child that it was all he could do not to tell Hannah what he suspected and demand that she allow him to worry with her.
Demand,
he thought as he watched her hanging laundry on the clothesline he had stretched like a tightrope between two large palm trees outside their back door. Demanding was the way of Levi Harmon, a man used to having his way. A man used to others giving him his way as if that were somehow his right.

But Levi Harnisher understood that such thoughts were a part of the outside world. In the Amish world it was not his will, but God’s will that mattered. “Well, then,” he prayed quietly, “if it be Your will, give us this baby, this child that we share, and let us raise him or her in the way of our ancestors.”

He pushed himself out of the rocker on the porch and went to help Hannah. The wind had caught a sheet she was trying to hang and it whipped away from her like a sail broken free of its mast.

“Got it,” he called as he rescued the damp sheet from its landing place in her herb garden and carried it back to her.

“It will have to be washed again,” she fussed as she wadded it into a ball.

He picked it up and spread it over the clothesline,
pulling clothespins from where she had clipped them to her apron and anchoring it there. “It’s fine,” he told her and then he placed his hands on her shoulders until she looked up at him. “Everything will be fine.”

The tears welled in her blue eyes and he pulled her into his embrace and rocked her side to side.

“How long have you known?” Her voice was muffled against his chest.

“A while now.”

“And yet you said nothing.”

“Nor did you,” he reminded her. “But now we know—the three of us and…”

She pulled back. “You told Caleb?”

He chuckled. “No.”

“Then who are the three of us?”

“You. Me.” He placed one palm gently over her midsection. “And this child of ours.”

She covered his hand with hers. “Tell me again,” she said softly.

“Everything will be fine,” he repeated then added, “whatever happens. We have already been blessed beyond all measure just by finding each other, Hannah. If God sees fit to give us a child, then I would have to say that our cup would runneth over.”

The sheer relief Hannah felt at being able to share the worries and joys of her pregnancy with Levi had the surprising effect of making her feel much better. On Christmas morning she hardly had any nausea at all, but she was glad that the routine called for prayer, fasting and quiet reflection on the true meaning of the day.

With Gunther and his three daughters, Hannah, Levi
and Caleb attended services at Merle Obermeier’s farm. He had the largest house so that everyone could be in the same room. The yard was already filled with buggies, unhitched and parked in a circle when they arrived, and more buggies had followed them up the lane. Caleb joined his friends to help lead the horses away either to the barn or to pasture. Hannah was relieved that Caleb had made new friends. New families had come to Florida in the last year—young families with children. The settlement growing up around the celery fields was becoming its own little community.

Inside the house the air was warm because of so many people crowded into one room and also because Merle refused to open any windows, assuring everyone that the house would stay far cooler if they would simply come in quickly and close the door behind them. He stood sentry at the front door to see that his instructions were followed.

“All that fanning of the door—opening and then closing it only to immediately open it again. That’s the cause of all this hot air—that and Obermeier’s lecturing,” Gunther grumbled.

“Papa, please.” Pleasant squeezed her father’s forearm. “It’s his house.”

Hannah could not help looking around and trying to imagine Pleasant living here. Merle had been a widower for less than a year. There had been a time when rumor had it that he had cast his eye on Hannah as a possible second wife. But then she had boarded the circus train to go and find Caleb and Merle had made it plain to Pleasant that he could not tolerate such open trafficking with outsiders.

Of course, Hannah pointed out the fact that Pleasant
had made that same journey, but she explained that Merle saw her participation as unavoidable. After all, Gunther could hardly expect Hannah to travel alone. In his view, Gunther had gone along to keep an eye on Levi, and Pleasant’s role was to watch over Hannah.

Hannah noticed that Merle’s two youngest children were running in and out of the house and up and down the stairs without one word from their father. Would Pleasant be able to teach them some manners and discipline them? Would Merle allow such a thing? For although he regularly reprimanded his eldest son and only daughter and cast sour looks in the direction of any mother whose baby was crying or whose toddler was making faces at another child, he turned a blind eye to the shenanigans of his own toddlers. Lydia had reported that the older two often missed school. The older boy was often ill, and Lydia worried that Merle’s daughter was being expected to take on far too much responsibility at home.

Surely, Pleasant could do better than this, Hannah thought, and then she immediately sought God’s forgiveness. It was not for her to say whether or not Pleasant and Merle should wed. No more than it was for her to say if she and Levi would be blessed with the birth of their own child.

Levi and Caleb sat shoulder to shoulder on the bench in front of her. Levi glanced back, his deep chocolate eyes inquiring as to her health.

“I’m fine,” she mouthed and motioned for him—and Caleb—to turn their faces forward. But the truth was that the oppressive heat that was building in the room with each new arrival was getting to her. She felt flushed and lightheaded. The women were seated so
close together on the bench that there was barely any room for what little air there was to circulate.

She heard others singing the opening hymn and tried to follow along. Then Bishop Troyer said, “Shall we pray?” And suddenly the room began to undulate as if she had been pushed underwater and was trying to fight her way back to the surface. A thud and then nothing until she felt blessed fresh air and smelled the scent of newly mown grass.

“Hannah?”

Levi was on his knees cradling her in his arms. Pleasant arrived on the run, spilling half of the glass of water she carried. Caleb was fanning her with his broad-brimmed Sunday black hat.

“Ma?”

“I’m all right,” she told him. “Just overcome by the heat is all.”

Caleb heaved a sigh of relief and grinned. “You weren’t the only one.” He pointed across the yard where others were attending to three other people—a woman, a girl and an older man.

Levi chuckled. “When the fourth person went down, the bishop told Merle to open the windows or he was moving the services outside.”

Hannah glanced toward the house and saw that every window had been opened wide. From inside she could hear the drone of the sermon the first minister was delivering. He was quoting the story of Jesus’s birth as recorded in the book of Matthew.

“Hannah?” Levi leaned near. “The baby?”

“We’re fine,” she assured him. “Now shush. I want to hear the story.” She clasped hands with Levi and leaned against him as the familiar words rolled out through
the open windows and across the yard. She couldn’t help thinking that even though most people thought of snow and cold weather when they thought of Christmas, Jesus had been born in the tropics—a place not so very different from this place. Somehow that gave her a measure of comfort.

When the services ended, Hannah insisted that she help the other women lay out a light lunch for everyone to enjoy before they headed for home. The meal was plain and sparse and the talk was of the feasts they would all enjoy the following day after the children presented their Christmas pageant at the school.

“Let’s go home. You need to rest,” Levi told her when he came looking for her after the meal and found her scrubbing pans in Merle’s kitchen—pans that she suspected had nothing to do with the meal just served.

“Yes, go,” Pleasant urged. “I can finish this.”