A Baby for Hannah (Hannah's Heart 3) Page 20

  “It’s not your fault,” she sobbed. “You didn’t have anything to do with it.”

  “I guess it’s like Mose said. It’s the work of the church.”

  “It’s horrible, horrible work,” Hannah said, breaking out in fresh tears. “I can’t stand this anymore.”

  Jake pulled her tight against his chest, removing her kapp, and gently taking out her hair pins. He ran his fingers through her hair, pushing the long strands over her shoulder and down to her waist.

  “There, there,” Jake said. “We still love each other. Nothing has changed that.”

  “It feels changed,” she cried into his chest. “Everything feels changed.”

  “Do you think I backed down?” Jake asked. “That they got me to change my mind against my will?”

  “Well, who wouldn’t have?” Hannah asked, searching his face in the flickering light of the kerosene lamp.

  “I wasn’t backing down,” Jake said. “I was just trying to keep the peace. Bishop John still has to get the vote passed.”

  “You know he will,” Hannah said. “And then all those people will be excommunicated. Even Mary Keim will be.”

  “Not if she doesn’t go back to the meetings again or gives a church confession.”

  “It’s all too awful to think about,” Hannah said, burying her face in Jake’s arms. “I wish you weren’t a minister.”

  “That can’t be helped,” Jake said, stroking her hair. “You are very beautiful. Do you know that?”

  “How can you say that now?” Hannah asked, looking up at him.

  “Because I love you,” Jake said. “And we will have to be very brave.”

  “But I’m not very brave,” Hannah said.

  “But you will try to be, I know you will,” Jake said.

  Hannah jerked her head upright as the faint sound of buggy wheels drifted in from the driveway.

  “There’s someone coming, and I don’t have my kapp on,” Hannah said, gasping.

  “I doubt if it’s the ministers again,” Jake said, stepping out into the living room. Hannah raced past him, her hair trailing over her shoulders, her kapp clutched in her hands.

  Finding a match, Hannah lit the kerosene lamp in the bedroom, setting the light beside the mirror and quickly working on her hair. Who would be coming at this hour of the night, and what would they think if she wasn’t out in the living room with Jake? Would they think she had already gone to bed?

  Pulling on her kapp, she brushed the last strand of hair in place and ran out of the bedroom, slowing down as she approached the living room. Taking a moment to catch her breath, Hannah stepped out into the light. No one was around, but Jake’s faint form was visible through the front window, standing on the porch.

  Was Jake speaking with someone? Had the ministers come back for some final rebuke they didn’t want her to hear? Tears stung her eyes as Hannah opened the cabin door. Whoever it was, this time they would have to speak to Jake in front of her.

  Jake was staring out toward the barn, waiting, as she stepped up beside him. A faint form appeared out of the darkness.

  “Miriam,” Hannah gasped. “What are you doing out tonight? And at this hour?”

  “It’s still early for Indiana people,” Miriam said, laughing, the sound tinkling like music across the grass. “And what’s wrong with you two? You look like you’re seeing a ghost.”

  “Well, you’re not a ghost,” Jake said. “So why don’t you come on in the house?”

  “Jah,” Hannah said, grabbing her arm. “It’s so gut to see you.”

  Miriam laughed again, “I think I’ll have to come over more often for a welcome like this. At least someone likes me.”

  “Are you having troubles?” Jake asked, while he held the cabin door open.

  “Lots of them,” Miriam said. “But nothing the two of you can’t solve.”

  “Ah,” Jake said, “so now we are miracle workers.”

  “I think you are,” Miriam said. “I was cheered up just by driving in the lane.”

  “It’s always gut to lighten the soul,” Jake said, following the two women inside.

  “We do need it,” Hannah said, pulling Miriam down on the couch beside her. “Do tell me that you come with good news?”

  “First, tell me things are well with you two. I passed Bishop John and Mose Chupp on the main road, but surely they wouldn’t be bearers of any bad news.”

  Hannah glanced at Jake, who didn’t say anything.

  “Oh,” Miriam said. “You are a minister, you don’t need to tell me more than that. I don’t want to be involved anyway. All I want is to enjoy the great gift of love which Da Hah has given me and to never think of another day arriving without it.”

  “I take it Dennis is still seeing you?” Jake said with a wry smile.

  “That’s wonderful news,” Hannah said. “So I take it that Dennis isn’t going to the Mennonite revival meetings? That’s even better news.”

  “No, Dennis isn’t going,” Miriam said. “He loves me too much for that.”

  “Is that the only reason he’s not going?” Jake asked. “His brother Will attended with his family. At least that’s what we’ve heard.”

  “It doesn’t make any difference,” Miriam said. “How many times do I have to say that Dennis is not like his brother? He’s wonderful, sweet, and so in love with me.”

  “That’s what they say—love is blind,” Jake said. “Still, I think I’d be a little careful if I were you.”

  “Oh, what do you know?” Miriam said with a twinkle in her eye. “You married Hannah with your eyes closed.”

  “I did not,” Jake said, laughing softly. “They were wide open.”

  “That’s what you say, but I know better,” Miriam said. “You would have followed her to the end of the world. I saw that doggy look in your eyes at the wedding. People might think you’re this great preacher, but I saw you when you were just a little boy and so in love.”

  Jake laughed. “I see I didn’t fool you, but that still doesn’t change the situation with Dennis. He isn’t a very safe choice for marriage.”

  “Then I’m tired of safe choices,” Miriam said. “I’m tired of safe Indiana, safe hymn singings, safe boys who are so boring they bring me to tears. I’ve found what I wanted out here in Montana, and unless Dennis is the one who throws me back home, I’m not going back without him. In fact, I’ll be perfectly happy living in these mountains for the rest of my life.”

  “Sounds like the girl knows her mind,” Jake said. “But you’ve been warned.”

  “Maybe you should listen to Jake,” Hannah said. “He knows what he’s talking about.”

  “Both of you are way ahead of yourselves. I haven’t even said what I came to ask,” Miriam said. “Can I at least get that out of my mouth before you give me this big lecture?”

  “Sorry,” Hannah said. “We weren’t trying to lecture you, were we, Jake.”

  “No,” Jake said, grunting. “Just warning.”

  Miriam continued, “It’s like this. Betty is making more and more of a fit about me seeing Dennis. I think these tent meetings are really disturbing her world, and I hate to bring Dennis home to the house while Betty is in such a bad mood. Could I please use your living room for a few Sunday evenings until these meetings blow over?”

  “I don’t know why not,” Hannah said, glancing at Jake.

  “Sure,” he said, with a smile. “It’s not like we aren’t in enough trouble already.”

  “Oh, you are both such dears,” Miriam said, jumping to her feet. “I just had to know that tonight yet before I could get a wink of sleep.”

  Twenty-Nine

  Jake drove his buggy into Mose Chupp’s driveway on Saturday evening, pulling to a stop by the barn and waiting. It was still early, but they needed plenty of time. Perhaps if things didn’t go too badly, they might even be able to make both stops tonight. Another evening next week would simply be too much. Hannah was already in tears when he left the house. Wearily h
e settled back into the buggy seat as Mose opened the front door and came quickly down the walk.

  “Good evening,” Jake said, as Mose climbed in.

  “Good evening,” Mose replied, nodding. “It’s not a gut night, is it?”

  “No, it isn’t,” Jake said. “But Bishop John wants answers, and I guess this is the only way to get them.”

  “The work of the Lord is often hard,” Mose said. “And we must bear the load as true servants of the most high God.”

  “Yes, I suppose so,” Jake said. “But Hannah is much troubled tonight, and it grieves me greatly.”

  “The women are the weaker vessel,” Mose said. “And especially so when they are young.”

  “You forget that I am young,” Jake said, turning out of the driveway onto the main road.

  “Jah, one does forget such things, but both of you seem much older than your years. I suppose it is the grace of God given for what is needed.”

  Jake slapped the reins and said “Get-up” to Joel. “I don’t like how much stress this is placing on Hannah. She’s already lost one baby, and we don’t want to go through that again.”

  “There will be grace given,” Mose said, nodding his head soberly. “Of that we can always be sure.”

  “I still don’t like it,” Jake said. “And this had better be over with soon.”

  Mose glanced sharply at him. “You’re not thinking of rebelling against Bishop John, are you?”

  “Of course not,” Jake said. “But still, I’m very short on patience tonight.”

  “It could get worse before it gets better,” Mose said. “But still we must bear the burden. Yes, as you say, you are young, but don’t allow yourself to be overcome with the rashness of youth. You are already pushing the limit with Bishop John. I think he’s being very lenient with you, considering the circumstances. Some of the older bishops would have you up for discipline already.”

  “I know,” Jake said. “But it still wouldn’t be right. I am obligated to give my honest opinion.”

  “I think that’s what Bishop John likes about you,” Mose said, settling back into his seat. “You are honest. I suppose you could have left for the Mennonites already if you had wanted to.”

  “Why do you and Bishop John think I would want to join the Mennonites?”

  “Ben Stoll sure went out of his way to try and pull you into these meetings. I guess we could ask the same thing about why Ben might think such a thing of you.”

  “I don’t know,” Jake said, slapping the reins again as his horse moved forward. “I’m just tired of the subject. I’m tired of thinking of this mess. I’m tired of being the one who disagrees with Bishop John. I’m tired of the whole thing. I didn’t sign up for this. Hannah and I wanted nothing more than a peaceful life here in the valley, and look what it’s gotten us. And now my second child is threatened by all this.”

  “Is Hannah not doing well?” Mose asked. “I didn’t know things were that serious. Perhaps Clara could visit her, maybe help out with the housework. Is that what’s causing the problem?”

  “No,” Jake said. “It’s the church problems, that’s all. And I don’t think either of us can take much more, so we’d better get this done tonight, even if it goes late.”

  “Hannah’s sister Miriam is here,” Mose said. “Can she help out? And isn’t Hannah seeing a doctor?”

  “Jah,” Jake said. “And Dr. Lisa gave a gut report on the last visit, and Hannah has another appointment soon. But I’m still concerned.”

  “Then you should trust in Da Hah,” Mose said. “He will see you through this. He will see all of us through this.”

  “Yes, that’s true,” Jake said. “Whose place are we going to first?”

  “I think Will and Rebecca’s,” Mose said. “That might be the easy one, and we can see if we still have time left afterward.”

  “I don’t think any of them will be easy,” Jake said. “I don’t think losing people to the Mennonites is ever easy.”

  “No,” Mose said. “But why are you so sure we have lost them? Have they spoken to you already?”

  “Of course not,” Jake said, turning into Will and Rebecca’s driveway. “I would have told you or Bishop John if they had. Can’t anyone trust me anymore?”

  “I would say Bishop John is placing quite a lot of trust in you by sending you out on this mission tonight.”

  “Then perhaps it would be nice to not be trusted so much,” Jake said, pulling to a stop by the hitching post.

  “You must not say such things,” Mose said, climbing down from the buggy.

  “I know, and I’m sorry,” Jake said as he tied Joel. “And now let’s hope Will and Rebecca are home or we will have to come back another night.”

  “They’re home,” Mose said, leading the way up the graveled sidewalk. “I just saw their children’s faces peeking out of the front window.”

  Jake followed soberly behind him and waited while Mose knocked on the front door. Moments later, Will opened the door halfway, standing with his hand on the knob.

  “Good evening,” Will said, not moving.

  “Good evening,” Mose said. “Is it okay if we come inside? We have a church matter we wish to speak with you and Rebecca about.”

  “Yes, I expected as much,” Will said. “And why did Bishop John not come himself?”

  “We are not here to argue,” Mose said. “We just need to know what your plans are.”

  “Well, come on in,” Will said, stepping aside. “I don’t think this should take long. I’m leaving the Amish church. Does that answer your question?”

  Mose took off his hat, and Jake did the same. Stepping across the threshold, Mose glanced around quickly. There was no sign of Rebecca or the children.

  Is Will keeping them out of sight on purpose? Jake wondered. Or is Rebecca simply unwilling to speak with us?

  “We still need to speak with you about it,” Mose said. “Perhaps you could explain yourself a little better. We’d also like to speak with Rebecca.”

  “I don’t think she wants to speak with you,” Will said. “At least that’s what she told me.”

  “I think it would be best if she told us that herself,” Mose said, standing in the middle of the kitchen floor. Jake shifted on his feet beside him.

  “Then take a seat on the couch,” Will said, waving his hand toward the living room. “I will find Rebecca.”

  Jake sat down beside Mose, keeping his eyes turned toward the floor. Hannah’s weeping face rose in his mind. They should have brought along their wives. It would have made things so much easier, but Bishop John had insisted they leave them at home.

  A door slammed in the house and Jake jumped. Moments later Will reappeared with Rebecca behind him, wiping her eyes with a white handkerchief. She did not look at them as Will led her to the other couch. They both sat down.

  “I’m sorry that we have to speak with you,” Mose said, clearing his throat. “But it’s necessary that we hear from you how you’re feeling.”

  “I’m not feeling very well,” Rebecca whispered.

  “Have you been with Will to all the tent meetings this week?” Mose asked.

  “Jah,” Rebecca said.

  “And what are your feelings on the matter? Will tells us he is leaving for the Mennonites.”

  “This is how we can find peace in our home,” Rebecca said, tears springing to her eyes. “There seems to be no other way.”

  “So it is Will who wants to leave and not you?” Mose asked, his eyes moving to Will.

  “It is,” Rebecca said. “He is my husband, and I have borne his children, and I love him.”

  “This is a serious matter,” Mose said. “It could involve the church direction your children and your grandchildren take. Have you thought about that?”

  “I have,” Rebecca said, wiping her eyes again. “But I’m tired of thinking about it. Will is not happy in the Amish church. He has wanted to leave for an Englisha church for some time now. I cannot give my word to
such a thing, and I would stay behind with the children if necessary, but the Mennonites are another matter. Such a move should not warrant excommunication. At least there is that hope.”

  Mose turned to Will. “Is this the basis on which to make a church move? Your wife is obviously not in agreement with your decision.”

  “You can think of me what you wish,” Will said. “But I must do what I think is best.”

  “And you think it is best to take your wife and children out into the world?” Mose asked.

  “Perhaps it’s the world to you,” Will said. “But it’s where I came from. I was still a small boy when my parents joined the Mennonites, and then I moved on to the Amish. I guess I made a mistake, and my parents were right all along.”

  “Are your parents still Mennonites?” Mose asked.

  Will nodded.

  “His father and mother were down to visit this week,” Rebecca said, her voice stronger now. “It’s what helped me make up my mind.”

  “Is your father involved in these revival meetings?” Mose asked. “Surely he would not make church trouble for his son?”

  “No,” Rebecca said, shaking her head. “It is not like that at all. Will’s parents are wonderful people. They wouldn’t try to take us away from the Amish church, but just seeing his dad talk with Will about spiritual things—like they haven’t in a long time, helped me become comfortable with the idea.”

  “And they couldn’t talk about spiritual things before?” Mose asked.

  “I don’t know about Will’s brother, Dennis,” Rebecca said. “But there always seemed to be a strain between Will and his father.”

  “I was the one who took Dennis to the Amish,” Will said. “I said some harsh things to Dad before we left.”

  “Does Dennis feel the same way you do?” Jake asked, leaning forward.

  “No,” Will said, laughing. “That’s the funny part about this. Dennis doesn’t follow me around anymore, so I guess he’s grown up.”

  “Has Dennis been to any of the meetings?”

  “We haven’t seen anyone there but Mary Keim,” Rebecca said. “And Will has promised me he won’t try to lure any of the community members to do what we’re doing.”