A Dream for Hannah (Hannah's Heart 1) Read online

  “No,” Hannah said, “just sick of myself.”

  “Maybe this is an opportunity to renew your dedication to Him,” Kathy suggested. “You gave your heart to Him when you were younger. Now might be the time for a fresh commitment.”

  Hannah agreed with a nod but said nothing.

  “Maybe even baptism,” Kathy ventured. “What about a new—perhaps more mature—beginning with God and then with the church?”

  “Do you think God wants me…after this?”

  “Of course,” Kathy said. “He loves all of us.”

  “Maybe if I told Him I would stop dreaming, He might forgive me. What do you think?”

  Tears stung Kathy’s eyes. “You shouldn’t be thinking things like that—not at all.”

  “I’m an awful person,” Hannah said. “I wanted what I wanted, and now Peter is dead.”

  Kathy got up and put her arm around Hannah’s shoulder, but Hannah didn’t return her hug.

  “I will tell God I am so sorry,” Hannah said, her eyes still blank. “Then He might not blame it all on Peter.”

  Kathy stroked her face gently. “Hannah, you shouldn’t be thinking such things. Peter is in the hands of God. He will judge righteously. You must not think that He won’t.”

  Hannah just whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

  Kathy held her, expecting tears to start at any moment, but they didn’t. That seemed even worse to her, but how to help her, that was the question. “God will take care of you,” Kathy said, releasing Hannah. “I’ll talk to your dad about this. Perhaps he knows what to do.”

  “You don’t have to bother Dad,” Hannah said as she rose from her chair. “He has enough on his mind.”

  That alarmed Kathy again, and she considered Hannah’s words as she began mixing the ingredients to make the bread.

  They bumped along on the rough forest road as the jeep climbed the mountain. “It’s beautiful up here,” Jake’s escort said, his voice enthusiastic. “We’d all love it more if it weren’t so lonely.”

  Jake nodded and agreed for the sake of agreement. His basic training was over, and he was in the forest green uniform ready to go to work at his outpost. His hair, though, he wore in the traditional Amish fashion. That would not change.

  His escort shifted into first gear, and the jeep lurched forward again. That’s something I wish were possible, a driver’s license, Jake thought as they bounced along. For now he doubted he would ever veer that far from his heritage and so would have to depend on others to drive him around.

  “Beautiful,” he said out loud to make conversation. Below them was the full expanse of the valley in which Libby, Montana, was located. The view cheered him like little had in weeks. Again he felt this was where he was supposed to be. He was sure of it.

  “Ever been to the mountains before?” his escort asked.

  “Nope,” he said.

  “Where’re you from?”

  “Iowa.”

  “Kind of flat, right?”

  He grinned. “Mostly cows and farmland.”

  “You’ll like this, then.”

  To this Jake nodded. As the jeep bounced violently again, his escort swerved away from the edge of a sheer drop-off.

  “We’re fine,” his escort reassured him and jerked the wheel toward the other side of the mountain.

  Jake only smiled, refusing to be afraid.

  “I had a talk with Hannah today,” Kathy said to Roy as they settled in for the evening, the stillness of the house all around them.

  Roy glanced up from his Amish newspaper. “Yes?”

  “The girl is really troubled,” Kathy said. “She needs something more than what we’re giving her.”

  “We’re praying,” Roy reminded her.

  “It may require doing something more,” Kathy said.

  “Did you find out what’s causing her sense of guilt? It still seems much too great for the circumstances.”

  “Partly,” Kathy said. “It has to do with what she thought was love. Now I think she’s become disillusioned with the idea of love.”

  “That could happen—considering her crush on Peter,” Roy allowed.

  “It’s more than that,” Kathy said. “She thought it was the real thing. She’s a young girl, Roy. I remember being her age and wanting to love someone—and have someone love me—in the right way.”

  “Did you tell her that the right way involves a decent boy…not just someone who can sweet-talk her?”

  “No, not today,” Kathy said. “That’s another conversation. Her heart is what concerns me at the moment. It’s not just broken—that would be one thing—but she has lost hope. That’s what seems so serious to me.”

  “She can find a good Amish boy anywhere,” Roy ventured. “It shouldn’t be that hard. She’s good-looking and capable. I don’t think she has anything to worry about.”

  “That’s not what I mean,” Kathy said. “Plenty of boys will want her. Her own feelings are the problem, and I don’t think this is something that will just go away by itself. The girl is truly hurting.”

  Roy acknowledged that with a turn of his head. “Did you ask her about joining the church? Maybe this would be a good time. It might help in the healing process.”

  “I did, and she agreed.”

  “Well, then, let’s try that. She can join the next instruction class.”

  “I think she needs something more than even that,” Kathy said gently.

  Roy stopped, his hand halfway to the paper, and waited.

  “What would you think about sending her to my sister in Montana for a visit?”

  “Yes,” Roy said, nodding, “that small Amish community they helped start a while back. They’re still not that stable, though, are they?”

  “They have a minister and bishop now,” Kathy said. “Anyway, Betty keeps writing all the time…about how beautiful the country is out there.”

  “Poor too,” Roy added.

  “Yes, but they also can’t get much hired help. It’s just too expensive. Betty mentioned in her last letter how surprised they’ve been with the demand for the riding horses they have. Betty started it as a sideline, but so many tourists stop there during the summer it could almost keep someone busy full-time.”

  “And you’re thinking Hannah could help?”

  “Yes, free of charge, of course, unless Betty thinks they can pay her something. But, as you said, they’re poor. I would be happy if Hannah could just work for her room and board. Then, if this helps her get over her depression, we would be more than paid back.”

  “What kind of help would she receive there that we couldn’t give her here?”

  Kathy wasn’t sure how to explain it but tried. “A change of scenery, a different church, maybe. A chance to meet new people. Oh, I don’t know. It just might be the thing to do.”

  “When are you thinking this would happen?”

  “There’s another van load going up in two weeks. Some ministers plan to visit, plus several other couples who are just curious are going along. Mr. Bowen is taking them.”

  “You have it all planned out, then?” Roy said with a knowing smile.

  “Not really,” Kathy said, “just thinking out loud. What do you think?”

  “I think we should see if she wants to go. If she does and if there’s room in the van, I don’t think it would cost too much for her share. How expensive are the motels on the way out?”

  “I think Betty said they space the drives each day to stay at Amish or Hutterite communities in the evenings. It’s about a three-day drive, two nights, she said.”

  Roy nodded. “Maybe this is the answer. Ask Hannah in the morning.”

  “I will,” Kathy said, glad to have agreement on the matter.

  Thirteen

  This was to be Jake’s first full day of fire watching. He stood on the fire deck in his forest-green colored uniform, the state of Montana insignia attached firmly above his left shirt pocket, and breathed in deeply the brisk morning air. What a life, h
e thought. One he’d never dreamed he’d see.

  He raised his binoculars to his eyes and took long sweeps up and down the slopes and the valleys in search of possible fires. The beauty of the mountain range took his breath away. He continued his watch over the terrain, and at mid morning he noticed a slim column of smoke. Was his mind playing tricks on him?

  As he brought the binoculars to bear on the base of the forest floor, as he had been trained, there was no mistake. He saw the clear lick of red flames spreading along the hillside. This was no contained campfire. Jake hurried inside, clicked the microphone on his radio, and stated, “Fire station zero-seven-five to base. Zero-seven-five to base.”

  “Zero-seven-five, come in,” came the response.

  “I have a small fire, two o’clock to my station. Appears to be about two miles out.”

  “Roger that, will be right on it,” the voice on the radio responded.

  Jake watched through his binoculars as the flames licked the base of a large tree and caught the lower branches on fire. From there it spread quickly upward until the whole tree was engulfed.

  He swept his binoculars sideways, toward where he figured the help would come from, and caught sight of a dust cloud. It slowly materialized into a pickup truck with fire-fighting equipment. When the vehicle arrived on the scene, two men scrambled out, quickly cut a perimeter around the area, and lit backfires that burst out in streaks of flame.

  An hour later, only a small section of burnt woods was visible in his lens. As the truck drove back toward town, Jake kept a careful watch on the slopes. At the end of the day, he had seen no other fires.

  When her mother approached Hannah the next morning with a suggestion that she visit Aunt Betty in Montana, Hannah was surprised that she found it agreeable. They discussed it as they washed the breakfast dishes and put them away. Miriam and Emma were sent outside to work so Kathy could speak with Hannah in private.

  “Maybe it would help me forget,” Hannah said hopefully.

  “You need to heal,” Kathy said. “I don’t think forgetting is as much of a problem.”

  “I just never want to dream again,” Hannah said as she carefully lifted the breakfast plates into the cupboard. “Never again.”

  “We all have to love,” Kathy said. “What you felt was natural.”

  “Not in the way I did,” Hannah replied. “That was so wrong. Do you think God will forgive me in Montana? Perhaps better than He can here? Perhaps He’d be closer to me near Aunt Betty’s mountains?”

  “He’s close to us right here,” Kathy assured her. “But we want you to go because we think it might do you good…and Betty could use the help, I’m sure.”

  “Keeping house?” Hannah couldn’t think what other work might be there.

  “No,” Kathy said. “It’s Betty’s horse-riding business that you would be helping with.”

  Hannah’s eyes brightened for the first time in days.

  “I’ll write Betty today,” Kathy said. “She’ll get the letter in time to write back if for some reason she doesn’t want you to come. But I’m sure she’ll want you. You’ll be working for room and board so there shouldn’t be a problem. In summers they really get busy with the rides on the farm. They have just the two horses, if I remember correctly.”

  Hannah felt relief for the first time in days.

  “When will we know for sure?” she asked.

  “I’ll ask Mr. Bowen this morning. He should know if there’s still room in the van.”

  They continued with the dishes in silence. The only sounds were the swish of the soapy water and the occasional clink of dishes. Kathy left around ten to talk with Mr. Bowen. She returned with the news that two spots were still available in the van, one of which Hannah could have.

  Betty’s letter arrived the day before the van was to leave. She expressed great delight in the idea of Hannah’s visit.

  So it was that Hannah boarded the van early on a Wednesday morning and headed for the distant land of Montana.

  Kathy had read the letter aloud to the whole family.

  Christian greetings from the mountain lands of Montana.

  We have received your welcome news of Hannah’s desire to visit. Of course, she can come. With her skill with horses, she can take care of the riders all summer. We might even get another horse. The extra income would be welcome, of course. As you know, money is tight around here. Thanks again for your offer of Hannah’s help. We will put her up to the best of our ability.

  With love,

  Your sister Betty

  The van was loaded with Hannah’s suitcase, and she was settled on the backseat. Beside her were Lois and Elmer Zook and Lois’s sister, Ruth, all of whom Hannah knew well from her church district. Elmer and Lois, it was rumored, were interested in moving to Montana.

  Minster Alvin, the one who preached at Peter’s funeral, sat in the passenger seat beside Mr. Bowen. His wife was in the row behind him with her sister and her sister’s husband.

  Occupying the third row was an older couple whose son and his wife had moved to Troy, Montana. They were lonesome to see their grandchildren and wanted to see the West again. With them was Naomi, the wife’s widowed sister, who offered Hannah a ready smile when she climbed into the van.

  There followed two days of hard driving, as much as Mr. Bowen could take. He drove up through Chicago and then west onto Interstate 90. During the second night, Mr. Bowen almost couldn’t make the designated stopping point at one of the Hutterite communities north of Billings.

  With Minister Alvin’s encouragement, Mr. Bowen persevered, and they finally arrived exhausted. He requested that he be allowed to retire early, and he even turned down a supper the Hutterites had quickly prepared at the common eating hall.

  “I need sleep more than food,” Mr. Bowen explained. The hosts willingly acquiesced and showed him to a room reserved for visitors. They invited the married couples to stay in small cabins while Hannah stayed with one of the young girls who introduced herself as Jane.

  “I hear you’re from Indiana,” the girl said.

  Hannah replied, “Yes, we live just outside of Nappanee. I’m going to spend the summer with my Aunt Betty in Troy, Montana.”

  “Is she Amish?” the girl asked.

  “Yes,” Hannah said. “She’s part of a small Amish community in the mountains. She has horses she rents out in the summertime. I’ll be helping her.”

  “Not a lot of mountains around here,” the girl said wryly, “except way off in the distance.”

  “It is pretty flat,” Hannah agreed. The big sky had awed her during the drive. She saw great sweeping views of grasslands that seemed to go on forever outside the van window. “Big sky country, right? Is that what you call it?”

  Jane nodded.

  “Have you lived here all your life?”

  “I was born here,” the girl said, “and I stayed here. Where else is there to go? You have to have a good reason to travel since the colony pays for it.”

  A piece of embroidery on the dresser caught Hannah’s eye. On the bottom of the piece, the name Jane was stitched in fine, exquisite lettering.

  “Did you sew that?” she asked. “It’s beautiful.”

  Jane nodded. “Mom taught my sisters and me. They’re all married now.”

  “You do nice work.” Hannah ran her fingers lightly over the embroidered piece. “Do you have horses in the colony?”

  “Lots of them,” Jane said. “The boys ride them mostly for work.”

  “Can you girls ride them too?”

  “Yes, when there’s a chance. Some of the girls like to ride, and some don’t.”

  “Do you?” Hannah asked. “It looks like you could ride here for days and never stop.”

  “Sometimes,” Jane grinned. “We girls are kept pretty busy with the housework. We all have daily chores. There’s not much time for things like horseback riding. Well,” Jane said, motioning with her hand, “maybe we should get to bed. You must be tired.”

&n
bsp; Hannah agreed, and they turned out the lights. Outside the window Hannah could see the expanse of the open sky, now flooded with stars. The sight so drew her, she had to get out of bed to gaze at it for a long moment.

  “It’s beautiful,” Jane whispered from her bed.

  “Yes,” Hannah said, “very beautiful. I hope the mountains will be as wonderful.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” Jane said. “This is about as good as it gets.”

  “Perhaps I should stay here,” Hannah teased.

  Jane laughed, and Hannah returned to her bed. Moments later she was under the covers and fast asleep.

  The morning sun had risen in its glory. Its light streamed full against the side of the Cabinet Mountains. Jake was up early and at his post although signs of fire at this hour were unlikely. Only later, when the mist rose from the ground, could he spot the haze of smoke from any burning fires. An occasional campfire could still smolder from the night before, but he was now trained to notice those differences.

  Around mid morning an English girl, accompanied by who he assumed to be her family, came up the trail. Part of his job was to give short tours to hikers who stopped by his station. This was an effort in public relations that was well worth its weight in gold, his supervisor had told him.

  Jake was at ground level at the moment the group appeared. Perhaps that was why the full impact of her face wasn’t lost on him. They were already close when he first saw her, and he jerked back, the similarities so shook him. She could have been Eliza’s sister, but that wasn’t possible. This was an English girl.

  Unable to take his eyes off her, he blushed with feelings of shame and anger. Memories he had tried to keep buried rushed back with their full strength, undiminished by time or distance.

  With great effort Jake managed to croak out a “good morning” to the tall, clean-shaven man in the lead.