A Baby for Hannah (Hannah's Heart 3) Page 25

  “It must never happen to us,” she whispered as she climbed down and tied Mosey securely to the light post. “Jake and I have to raise our children to fear Da Hah and to walk in holiness. Please help us, God. Protect us from the evils of this world.”

  Pressing her arms tightly around her swollen body, Hannah walked across the parking lot and up the steps into Dr. Lisa’s office.

  “Good morning,” the receptionist said brightly. “How are you today?”

  “Okay,” Hannah said, smiling weakly.

  “You look a little peaked.”

  “I’m okay,” Hannah said, taking a seat as the receptionist looked skeptically at her.

  Nurse Sally came bustling up the hall, and Hannah turned toward her. Perhaps Sally would take her back in right away, out from under the receptionist’s scrutiny.

  “Good morning, Hannah,” Sally said cheerfully. “Are we ready to go back?”

  “Jah,” Hannah said, quickly getting to her feet.

  The receptionist was still watching her as Sally led her down the hall. Did she really look that awful? Or was the kindly middle-aged lady simply allowing her motherly concern to get the best of her? Perhaps she had a daughter whose pregnancy had ended badly. Hannah shivered at the thought.

  “Are you cold?” Sally asked.

  “No,” Hannah said. “I’m fine.”

  “I guess we’ll see,” Sally said, taking her temperature quickly.

  “I’m just a little tired,” Hannah said. “Maybe that’s why I’m looking peaked.”

  “Pregnancies can do that,” Sally said, lifting Hannah’s arm to strap on the blood pressure gauge, then pumping in air until the strap bit into Hannah’s arm.

  “How is it?” Hannah asked as Sally wrote down the numbers.

  “It’s up a little, but we’ll see what Dr. Lisa has to say. Come with me, and we’ll get you ready.”

  Moments later Sally disappeared, and Hannah stared at the white wall as she waited. It was so different here, as it should be. This was a doctor’s office where bodies were nurtured and cared for. But the cabin at home was also what it should be, a place where the love between her and Jake could grow. A place of comfort, of shelter from the world, and a place where their children would be safe.

  The door opened and Dr. Lisa came in.

  “How are you doing, Hannah?” she asked, picking up the chart Sally had left.

  “Fine, I think,” Hannah said, forcing a smile.

  “Your blood pressure is up,” Dr. Lisa said, taking Hannah’s hand. “Are you still under a lot of stress?”

  “I guess,” Hannah said, taking a deep breath. Dr. Lisa might as well know. “There’s been a lot of church things going on.”

  “I see,” Dr. Lisa said. “Are you worried about this pregnancy?”

  “Sometimes,” Hannah said. “But not really. I think this one will be okay.”

  Dr. Lisa smiled. “That’s a good way to look at it. Have you thought more about using our birthing room?”

  “Jah,” Hannah said. “And I appreciate the offer but I’d like to have the baby at home. It’s the way it should be. It’s not that your room isn’t nice—it certainly is. I’m sure it fits the needs perfectly of most people.”

  “Does Jake agree with you on this?”

  “I haven’t told him yet.”

  “Well, you can always change your mind later. I try to be flexible, but I think you should contact the midwife soon. They sometimes have their schedules filled up. The woman’s name is Mattie Esh. The receptionist will give you Mattie’s card on your way out.”

  Hannah nodded and repeated the name.

  “So that’s settled then,” Dr. Lisa said, stepping back from the table. “And everything else looks fine. I would say we have a nice, healthy baby coming along.”

  “Thanks,” Hannah said. “I hope I haven’t offended you with my decision not to use the birthing room.”

  “Not at all,” Dr. Lisa said. “But let my office know at once if you should change your mind or if Mattie has any problems. I would much rather know sooner then after the problem has gotten out of hand.”

  “I promise,” Hannah said. “And thank you so much.”

  “The receptionist will take care of you then, and you should be okay,” Dr. Lisa said, closing the door behind her.

  Hannah refastened her clothes and walked down the empty hall to the front desk.

  “All ready to go?” the receptionist asked.

  “Jah,” Hannah said, taking out the checkbook.

  “Was everything okay?” the receptionist asked, handing her the bill.

  “My blood pressure was a little high,” Hannah said, writing out the check. “But nothing serious.”

  “Oh, that’s good to hear.”

  “Jah, it is,” Hannah said, passing the check over the counter.

  “So when will you be in next?” the receptionist asked, rising to her feet. “Let me ask Dr. Lisa because it doesn’t say anything on your chart. Or did she tell you?”

  “No,” Hannah said. “I have plans to use the midwife now. Dr. Lisa said that should be okay unless complications come up. She said you’d give me her card.”

  “Yes, certainly,” she said as she reached for a small stack of cards near her phone. “And Dr. Lisa did tell you to call us if there are any problems?”

  “Jah, I promised her I would.” Hannah tucked the card in her pocket.

  “Don’t forget then,” the receptionist said.

  “I won’t,” Hannah said as she left. Mosey turned his head to look at her and whinnied when she got closer.

  “I made the right decision, I know I did,” Hannah whispered as she untied Mosey and climbed into the buggy. “I want to have the bobli at home, the way it’s supposed to be.”

  Guiding Mosey back into the street, Hannah settled back into the buggy seat. “Please God,” she whispered, her eyes sweeping the range of the Cabinet Mountains, “Let the bobli be okay. He can grow up here in this wonderful land, and Jake will be such a wonderful father for him.”

  An Englisha car came from out of town, slowing down when it drew closer. Hannah pulled the buggy over toward the shoulder as the vehicle passed, its occupants looking back at Hannah, obviously amused. At least they had no objections to slowing down for Amish buggies. Perhaps they were from out of town and were surprised to see Amish in Montana. At least they weren’t like the tourists back home in Indiana, who sometimes stopped to take pictures of Amish buggies. That was another gut reason to live out here in the West.

  As she approached the site of the tent, the canvas sides still swayed in the wind. Ben Stoll’s tent. At least it was his doing that it was here. So happy had she been in her thoughts about the bobli, she had forgotten about the Mennonite revival meetings. Would Ben see that it returned next year to claim more converts?

  “Don’t let it happen, God,” she whispered. “We need a place to raise our family in peace. Jake doesn’t deserve another summer like he’s been through. Can You please change Ben Stoll’s heart, and send him somewhere else with his missionary zeal?”

  Hannah sighed as the fluffy clouds moved across the ridges of the mountains.

  “But not our will, but Yours be done,” she whispered. “If You see fit to allow another trial like this next year, please give Jake and me the strength to bear it. We are not strong of ourselves, but we ask that You give us Your strength, and give Jake the wisdom to make the right decision if Bishop John wants to excommunicate Ben again. And please don’t leave us alone. We so want to do what is pleasing to You.”

  Thirty-Seven

  Hannah pulled right at Betty’s driveway. Mosey tossed his head and wanted to turn the other way, but she finally responded to the steady pull.

  “You’ll get home to your barn soon enough,” Hannah remarked, pulling up to the hitching rack. The barn door stood open, but there was no sign of Miriam. Hannah climbed down and tied Mosey to the post. He hung his head wearily and Hannah laughed. “You haven’t been on a l
ong trip, so stop acting so lazy.”

  Mosey jerked his head up and Hannah jumped as the screen door of the house slammed and Betty approached. “I’ve been waiting all morning for you to stop in, Hannah. How did the doctor’s visit go?”

  “Fine.”

  “Oh, it’s so gut to see you again,” Betty said, giving Hannah a big hug.

  “I just saw you on Sunday,” Hannah reminded with a laugh.

  “But with all that’s been going on, it seems like longer.”

  “I know,” Hannah said, her face darkening. “Have you heard of any more of our people going to Ben’s tent revival?”

  “No,” Betty said, her voice full of relief. “Not one single person! And that’s not everything…but maybe I shouldn’t be telling you this.”

  “Then maybe you shouldn’t,” Hannah said. “I don’t think I can handle any more bad news.”

  “It’s not like that,” Betty said, her smile never dimming. “This is gut news. Ben Stoll is upset that no more Amish have come. Can you believe that?”

  “That is good news. I was sure hoping no one else would go.”

  Betty glanced around, as if someone could be listening. “Ben has somehow found out about Jake’s opposition to the excommunication thing.”

  “Oh no. I wonder how?” Hannah asked.

  “I don’t know, but I imagine this will make Jake look good to Bishop John.”

  “Because Ben found out about it?”

  “No, silly, because Ben is blaming Jake for his failure to get more Amish people. For myself, I think the man had dreams in his head of being a minister. Maybe even of starting up a Mennonite church right in this area with the members he would steal from our community being his first converts.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Because now even Will is upset with Ben. I can’t believe that I am the first person to tell you this gut news. I thought for sure you had already heard.”

  “Look,” Hannah said, taking Betty by the arm, “why would Ben blame Jake for his failure?”

  “Because Jake was the one who opposed the excommunication, that’s why.”

  “I still don’t understand.”

  “See, Ben had his hopes set on the excommunication going through. He was planning to make a big deal out of it at the tent meetings. He even had plans to go door-to-door to all the Amish people and tell them how wrong Bishop John was. It was going to be his big chance to bring in many more from the community.”

  “But it wouldn’t have worked. You wouldn’t have left, would you?”

  “No, of course not, but some of the others might have if Ben was able to convince them that excommunication was too harsh. At least that’s what Ben was hoping for.”

  “Who told you all this?”

  “Rebecca,” Betty whispered. “Ben went by Will and Rebecca’s one night after one of the meetings and blew off a head of steam to Will about it. But now don’t you tell anyone I said so.”

  Hannah smiled. “So now I can be really glad Jake stood by what he believed. Although it was really old Menno Troyer who should be thanked. He’s the one who said he wouldn’t vote for the excommunication and thus changed Bishop John’s mind.”

  “But it all wouldn’t have happened without Jake. So don’t go saying Jake’s part wasn’t important. I know we’re not supposed to be proud of our husbands, but this was a really important thing. And Rebecca also said Ben is leaving the area for good next week.”

  “But will he come back next year?”

  “I don’t think so. Not since Will told him he’s changed his mind about joining the Mennonite church Ben wants to start up. Will said after having Jake as his minister and listening to Ben sound off, he could never sit on Sunday mornings listening to Ben preach.”

  “Oh, but that’s an awful thing to say.”

  “I don’t think so,” Betty said. “Ben had it coming to him for what he’s put this community through.”

  “But we have to still love Ben.”

  “I do,” Betty said weakly. “It will just be easier to love him once he and Sylvia are back in Kalispell for good.”

  “What are Will and Rebecca planning to do?”

  “It looks like they’re still going Mennonite, but just not here. It wouldn’t surprise me if Will took Rebecca back to Idaho where his parents are.”

  “That would be too bad. Maybe he’ll change his mind?”

  “Well, if he does, that would be a job for Jake.”

  “Maybe if we pray,” Hannah said, looking toward the Cabinet Mountain range. The fluffy clouds were still there, sweeping across the ridges.

  “This one will take more than prayer,” Betty said. Then she looked away and said, “Well, speaking of changing minds, I guess this is the time for me to admit that maybe I was wrong about Dennis.”

  “Well, that is a change of mind.”

  “Jah, it is. I can say now that I’m convinced that Dennis is a gut man, even though I’m still not so sure about Will. So there, I’ve said it. Beyond that I’m not responsible for the girl’s wild plans, nor am I responsible for what will happen when your mother finds out. It wouldn’t surprise me if we heard her scream all the way from Indiana.”

  “What is Miriam planning to do?”

  “I’m not saying,” Betty said, firmly placing her hand on her mouth. “There are some things that even I can’t say.”

  “So where is Miriam?” Hannah asked, glancing around. “I didn’t see her in the barn.”

  “She’s riding back by the river this morning—since we don’t have any people stopping by. I told her she needs to spend some time thinking, but I don’t think it will change her mind. She has a harebrained idea.”

  “When will she be back?”

  “I don’t know,” Betty said. “She’s been gone awhile.”

  “Then you have to tell me what she’s planning to do. Is it something awful? It can’t be joining the Mennonites. You said there aren’t any more of our people attending the meetings.”

  “I’m not saying. You’ll just have to wait until Miriam comes back and ask her.”

  “I can ride out to meet her,” Hannah said, starting to move toward the barn.

  “Not in your condition, you’re not,” Betty said, taking Hannah’s arm. “I’m not going to allow it. If something would happen, I’d never forgive myself.”

  “But I know how to ride. I’ve ridden since I was a little girl.”

  “You’re staying here, and there’s simply no question about that.”

  “Then I’ll walk out to meet her.” Hannah said, taking a few quick steps.

  “Hannah Byler, I declare! You are as stubborn as your sister,” Betty said with a sigh. “Oh, all right. If you insist, I’ll help you get the horse ready. But if you fall off, I’ll blame myself for the rest of my living days.”

  “Well, you could tell me what Miriam is up to, then I wouldn’t have to go.”

  “No, I won’t do that. I suppose you’ll be okay if you take the mare. She’s gentle.”

  “Okay,” Hannah said. She waited while Betty went to the barn for the horse.

  When Betty returned with the saddled horse, she helped Hannah pull herself up on the mare. Mosey whinnied loudly in objection.

  “You just stay here and behave yourself,” Hannah told him. “I’ll be back before long.”

  At the trail’s head, Betty let go, and the mare trotted quickly toward the river.

  “Now, don’t you go too fast,” Betty hollered after Hannah, and she turned to wave.

  What on earth is Miriam up to? Hannah wondered. Betty said it was gut news, but news that would still upset their mother. With a quick kick against the mare’s side, Hannah urged the horse into a gallop. The soft gurgle of the river reached her ears long before she saw the water through the trees. Perhaps Miriam was already on her way back, and she wouldn’t have to ride far. Hannah pulled back on the reins when she reached the bank and looked north where the trail followed the river. There was no sign of
Miriam or her horse.

  Quickly Hannah moved on, falling into the soft roll of the mare’s movements. She was an easy horse to ride, as were all of Betty’s horses. It was a requirement in her business. Stopping at the next rise, Hannah still didn’t see Miriam. Here the mountain range could be seen on all sides, and Hannah slowed to study the beauty around her.

  She had brought Jake here before they had spoken of their love for each other. They had ridden along this river and laughed at the joy of each other’s company, even though it was forbidden then to speak of their feelings. How mixed up she had been, and how close she had come to making the biggest mistake of her life. Was Miriam about to do likewise?

  Betty’s reassurances were small comfort. Hadn’t Betty’s idea of the right man for her been Sam? Jah, it had. Betty had a wonderful heart, but she wasn’t always on the right track with her feelings. Had she talked Miriam into something she shouldn’t be doing, like she had done with Sam and her?

  Urging the horse on, Hannah moved along the riverbank, keeping the reins taut in case there was trouble. Surely she could keep her balance even with a stumble, but there was no sense in taking any chances.

  Coming over the next ridge, Hannah caught sight of Miriam ahead, seated on the best horse Betty had—a beautiful gelding with a golden-brown coat ending in white stockings on both front legs.

  “Miriam,” Hannah yelled, but Miriam continued looking toward the northern range of the distant mountains.

  At a fast trot, Hannah went down into a slight dip in the trail, riding up the other side with the mare’s sure feet never missing a beat.

  “Miriam,” she called again.

  This time Miriam turned and waved, but didn’t move her horse. Hannah approached, finally coming to a stop beside her sister.

  “What are you doing out here?” Miriam asked, turning around again.