A Baby for Hannah (Hannah's Heart 3) Page 19

  “Da Hah has His mysterious ways.” Mary laughed. “I’m glad you came!”

  “So where do we go from here?” Mr. Brunson asked. “And please call me Norman.”

  “Norman’s a gut name and almost Amish.”

  “Does that make you feel better about this?”

  Mary smiled, the light of the kerosene lamp softening her face. “I would have accepted whatever name you had.”

  “Then how do we proceed, Mary?” Mr. Brunson asked, taking both her hands in his. “May I stop by the house and see you, perhaps during the daytime? Or should it only be at night?”

  “Always in a rush just like a man,” Mary said, laughing and pulling her hands out of his.

  “Well, I am old, and there seems to be a lot of things to do.”

  “You’re not that old. Perhaps you should begin by looking into joining the Mennonites, and I can do the same. We could start doing that by attending the rest of the meetings. Would that be okay with you?”

  “Okay? It would be lovely.”

  “Then that’s decided.”

  Mr. Brunson reached across the table, taking both of her hands again, “I really think this will work out between us, Mary. I know we come from worlds apart, and that we have both been married before, but I feel a great love for you. I’ve grown weary and crusty from living by myself, so you’ll have to soften me up again. This church thing seems so big, but we must not let it separate us. Are you willing to try, to give us a chance?”

  “Is that a marriage proposal, Norman?”

  “It is—given with very clumsy words, I’m afraid.”

  “They are fine words, Norman, and my answer is jah if we can both make it work with the Mennonites.”

  “We will make it work,” Mr. Brunson said, squeezing her hands tightly. Oh how he wanted to kiss her! But what did the Amish allow in these situations? Who knew, and besides, enough chances had already been taken for one night.

  “I will see you tomorrow night,” Mr. Brunson said, getting to his feet. “Do you want me to pick you up?”

  “No,” Mary said, with a smile. “I think it would be best if I drive down in my buggy.”

  Twenty-Seven

  Jake ate his supper slowly as Hannah watched his face.

  “I made pecan pie today,” Hannah said. “Especially for you.”

  He smiled weakly, briefly meeting her eyes.

  “It’s the Mennonite revival meetings, isn’t it?” Hannah asked, cutting a piece of pie and sliding it onto his plate. “Perhaps you’ll feel better after eating this.”

  “Thanks,” Jake said, trying to smile again. “But it will take more than pecan pie.”

  “I know—but maybe for a few moments you’ll feel better.”

  “Mr. Brunson is acting mighty strange. He wouldn’t say much when he stopped in at the shop today, but his face was glowing.”

  “Do you think he went to the meeting last night?”

  “I don’t know,” Jake said, cutting into the pie with his fork.

  “Do you like the pie?” Hannah asked, leaning closer to him as he took a bite.

  “You know I love it. You make the best pecan pie in the world. Even Mom can’t make pecan pie like you can.”

  “I don’t think you should ever tell her that, but you can sure tell me.”

  They ate in silence until Hannah added, “Speaking of your mom, shouldn’t you write her back about her concerns?”

  “I would if I knew what to say, but I don’t.”

  “She’d probably appreciate anything. That was quite a long letter she wrote.”

  “What would you write to your mom if she sent you a letter like that?”

  “Mom wouldn’t write a letter like that, and I’m not a man.”

  Hannah reached over to rub Jake’s shoulder, “So what do you think Mr. Brunson is doing?”

  “I’m certain he’s up to something with Mary Keim, although I can’t think what it could be.”

  “You don’t think he’s been to speak with her?”

  “I wouldn’t know how or what gut it would do.”

  “Maybe he’s spoken with her about going back East to join the Amish.”

  Jake shook his head. “There’s the business to take care of, and Mr. Brunson wouldn’t defy Bishop John like that. He might be in love with Mary, but he’s still an honorable man.”

  “Then perhaps you’ve been imagining things. Maybe he just had a gut day and was feeling well.”

  “I hope that’s all it is,” Jake said, getting up from the table. “But Ben Stoll stopped by the shop today, and I know he’s up to something. He wanted to talk about us attending the meetings and wouldn’t give me a straight answer when I asked if any of our people had been there for the first one.”

  “I’m so sorry for all the trouble,” Hannah said, giving Jake a quick hug. “But you are going to be a father soon. Just think about that instead of dwelling on church worries.”

  “You’re right, of course. What would I do without you?”

  “You wouldn’t be in this trouble if it weren’t for me,” Hannah said, meeting his eyes. “They wouldn’t have voted you into the ministry as a single man.”

  Jake tenderly wiped a tear from her cheek. “You are the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me. I love you very much, Hannah.”

  “Thank you. I needed to hear that.” Hannah lifted her face for a long kiss. “I love you too. Now, I better go clean up the kitchen.”

  “Maybe I should help you tonight?”

  “No, you have enough on your mind already.”

  Jake released her with a smile and left for the living room, taking the gas lantern with him. Hannah lit the kerosene lamp and set it on top of the stove mantel. By its soft flickering light she heated the water, washed the dishes, and wiped them dry…all the while thinking of how Jake was bearing up under the load. He was holding up well considering all the pressures on him. Was there more she could do for him? Not likely, other than what she had already done—keep the house in gut order, prepare his supper, and give him the love and support he needed.

  Thankfully Jake gave plenty of love back. It would be awful if he didn’t, and they had to go through this time bickering with each other as some couples did. He was such a gut man for her…and so wise. Which likely meant that Jake’s instincts were correct, and that Mr. Brunson was up to something with Mary, but what could it be? Would Mr. Brunson go behind their backs and lure Mary out into the English world? Surely he wouldn’t.

  Perhaps she should go speak with Mr. Brunson tomorrow, but would that be wise? It was hard to tell.

  Drying the last dish, Hannah opened the cupboard door, transferring the plates onto the shelves. Taking the kerosene lamp with her into the living room, she found Jake busy writing at the desk.

  She gave him a soft smile. “Writing to your mother after all?”

  “Jah. I just finished. Do you want to read it?”

  “I like to read anything you write,” Hannah said, taking the paper from his hand.

  Setting the kerosene lamp on the desk, Hannah walked over to the couch, and sat down to read.

  Dear Mom and Dad,

  Christian greetings of love. I received your letter and am very glad you shared your concerns with us. I had no idea this belief had become a problem nor was I aware of anything being taught differently here under Bishop John than what I had been used to growing up. We rarely talked about such things.

  Please accept my apologies if we believe something you hold to be in error. I will try to look into this later, but I have not had the time yet. We are in the middle of so many things right now, and I hope you can have patience with us.

  There are Mennonite revival meetings going on in the community, which are of great concern to us. I’m afraid it may involve some of our church members.

  Hannah paused reading as a buggy rattled up the lane and turned into the driveway. She looked toward Jake, who had stood up.

  “Are you expecting anyone?” Hann
ah asked.

  “No. Maybe it’s Betty coming to borrow something or Miriam for an evening visit.”

  “I’m going to finish the letter quickly,” Hannah said, glancing back down at the page.

  Hannah is doing well with the baby, and we are looking forward to the birth later this year. I hope you can come visit then if that is at all possible.

  With much love,

  your son, Jake

  “It’s a gut letter,” Hannah said, handing the paper to him.

  Jake’s hand stayed limp at his side, his eyes staring out of the window. “It’s Bishop John and Minister Mose Chupp, and they haven’t brought their wives along.”

  Hannah gasped, hanging on to Jake’s arm as he moved slowly toward the door.

  “You had better go into the kitchen,” Jake said. “You can hear what they say from there.”

  Hannah nodded, her heart pounding. “What have we done?” she whispered.

  “I don’t know,” Jake said. “Quick, go into the kitchen.”

  “I’m staying with you,” Hannah said, letting go of Jake’s arm and sitting on the couch.

  “No,” Jake said, but the men were already on the porch. Opening the door, Jake stepped aside as they entered, their faces solemn. They removed their hats, laying them on the floor just inside the cabin door.

  “I’m sorry to disturb your evening like this,” Bishop John said, “but something very urgent has come up.”

  Hannah rose and motioned with her hand toward the couch. The two men sat down slowly, glancing at her. She turned and fled to the kitchen, pulling out a chair from the table and sitting down in the darkness. The low murmur of their voices rose clearly from the living room.

  “I apologize again for this unplanned visit,” Bishop John said. “But this matter needs to be dealt with at once.”

  “What has happened?” Jake asked.

  “Someone said that you planned to attend the Mennonite meetings this week,” Bishop John said. “Is this true?”

  Hannah almost jumped to her feet but forced herself to stay in her chair.

  “No,” Jake said. “We have no such plans. And even if I wanted to go, Hannah would have strong objections.”

  “We had hoped it was you who would have the strong objections,” Mose said.

  “I do have them,” Jake said. “It’s not Hannah who’s holding me back.”

  “That’s gut to hear,” Bishop John said. “But we still have great concerns about these meetings. Are you aware that our people are attending the meetings?”

  “No,” Jake replied, “I am not.”

  “Well they have,” Bishop John said. “Will and Rebecca attended, as well as Mary Keim.”

  “Mary Keim?” Jake echoed.

  Hannah rose this time.

  “Jah, I’m sorry to say it’s true,” Bishop John said. “We have not yet had time to speak with Mary about the matter. Will, we suspected had a desire to join the Mennonites. It’s up to Rebecca now whether she will go with him or not. How we will handle the situation if she doesn’t is uncertain at this point. I really wish you had agreed to the excommunication of Ben and Sylvia, Jake. It would make things so much easier now.”

  “I still don’t think it is the right course,” Jake said. “This is not an excommunication offense.”

  “Are you sure you don’t have Mennonite sympathies?” Mose asked. “This matter has us very concerned.”

  “If I have them, I’m not aware,” Jake said.

  “Then perhaps this will show us where you stand on things, Jake,” Bishop John said. “Mose and I have decided that we do need to proceed on the excommunication and that a vote needs to be taken this Sunday. Since you profess to have no sympathies for Ben Stoll, surely you can understand our point of view.”

  “I can,” Jake said. “But I still don’t think it would be wise.”

  “This may help,” Bishop John said. “I had hoped I wouldn’t need to show this to you—that I would be able to convince you on the merits alone, but I see that you do not trust your fellow ministers very far.”

  Hannah listened in the silence, and Jake said nothing. Carefully she peeked around the corner of the kitchen door. Bishop John had a letter in his hand and was holding it out to Jake, who wasn’t taking it.

  “You can read it out loud,” Jake finally said. “It might be better that way.”

  “As you wish,” Bishop John said. “This is from Bishop Wengerd in Northern Indiana, whom I wrote to for advice. This is what he says:

  Dear Brethren. My heart also goes out in grief over the situation you have described to me. Thankfully the Mennonites around here are more respectful of our beliefs and stay in their own churches for the most part. Since the brother and sister who have left your church are not following this standard practice, I do believe that there might be grounds for excommunication, as it has been our experience that it is not wise to ignore such challenges to our faith. I hope this helps, and that the rest of the ministry and the council of the church can come to an agreement on this matter.

  “What do you think about that?” Mose asked when Bishop John had finished reading.

  Twenty-Eight

  Hannah paced the kitchen floor. What had Jake done wrong that he deserved this late-night visit? Jake would now be disturbed for the rest of the evening and be unable to sleep till late. He worked hard enough already at the furniture shop.

  Her knee hit the back of a chair and tipped it over, and it went clattering across the floor. Hannah held her breath, but the murmur of voices continued in the living room. Finding a spine of the chair with her outstretched fingers, Hannah carefully set it upright. What were they doing to Jake? Would he give in to Bishop John’s demands?

  Turning toward the kitchen opening, Hannah stood behind the sill and listened again.

  “This is a very serious matter,” Mose was saying. “We cannot proceed without unity among the ministry. Surely you know that.”

  “I do,” Jake said.

  “Doesn’t what Bishop Wengerd says mean anything to you?” Bishop John asked.

  “It does,” Jake said. “But it’s also just another opinion. We really have no solid tradition to go on. From what I have read of the forefathers, they were very hesitant to excommunicate members who stayed within the Anabaptist churches.”

  “But Ben and Sylvia have defied us,” Bishop John said. “They aren’t acting like family at all. They are moving in to take church members away from us.”

  “Jah,” Mose said, nodding soberly. “That is very true, and I think you should give Bishop Wengerd’s opinion a lot of weight. He is, after all, an older bishop, full of the wisdom age brings to the ministry.”

  “And I am a young minister,” Jake said. “I didn’t choose this calling, it was placed upon me, and now I must give an answer to Da Hah for what I decide. I cannot just go by what others are saying.”

  Hannah peeked around the corner. Bishop John was shaking his head, his hands clasped in front of him. Mose opened his mouth, his words coming out in a plea.

  “You are taking way too much upon yourself, Jake. We are just ministers. It’s up to the bishop to lead the church. If John wants Ben and Sylvia excommunicated, then the matter should proceed to a vote in the church.”

  “Then let it proceed,” Jake said. “I am in agreement with that.”

  “I’m not sure that’s the same thing,” Mose said.

  “It’s gut enough,” Bishop John said, holding up his hand. “I will take the responsibility upon myself for this matter. I will tell the church it’s my idea, and that you two are not standing in the way. Is that gut enough, Jake?” Hannah held her breath, as Jake hung his head.

  “It’s gut enough,” Jake finally said. “As long as you do not tell them I support the excommunication.”

  “Then we have unity,” Bishop John said. “It’s not as gut as I had hoped for, but it’s close enough. We will have a members’ meeting immediately after the service on Sunday, where I will read Bishop Wengerd
’s letter to the church, and we will take the vote.”

  “Surely it will pass,” Mose said. “I cannot see why it wouldn’t.”

  “I would hope so,” Bishop John said. “In the meantime we have a lot of work to do. The two of you need to visit both Will and Rebecca and Mary Keim and find out what their plans are. Don’t take your wives with you. I want this to stay between us for now.”

  “What about the voting?” Mose asked. “How are going to get a vote of unity from those who are already attending the meetings?”

  “They will be disqualified from voting,” Bishop John said. “That should be easy for everyone to understand.”

  “I should think so,” Mose said. “Since they have already shown where their sympathies lie.”

  “What about you?” Bishop John asked, looking at Jake.

  “I will not stand in your way,” Jake said. “I guess it would be hard to expect a clear vote from someone who has already attended the meetings.”

  “Then it’s decided,” Bishop John said, getting to his feet. “Now let’s get back home, Mose, to our families and not take up any more of this young couple’s evening. Da Hah knows we have already disturbed them enough.”

  “It is the work of the church and must be done,” Mose said, following Bishop John to the door. They both bent over to pick up their hats and pulled them on their heads. Hannah stayed where she was while Jake shut the door behind them and watched until the faint outline of the buggy had disappeared into the shadows of the night. Jake went into the kitchen and found her sobbing, her head on the table.

  “I’m so sorry about this,” Jake said, setting the kerosene lamp on the table and sitting down beside her. He ran his hand over her face.