A Dream for Hannah (Hannah's Heart 1) Page 5

  Her dad continued, “I realize that rumspringa is perhaps coming up—even for you. I guess we can’t keep you from that either, although I don’t like it at all.”

  “You can’t forbid her,” Kathy interrupted him.

  “I know,” Roy told her. “That’s not what I was thinking.”

  Now Kathy sounded surprised. “What have you been thinking?”

  “I’ll tell you some other time,” he said. “Not right now, though. Let’s let Hannah go to bed. I think it’s our bedtime, isn’t it? We’ll talk about it later perhaps.”

  With that, Hannah left for her bedroom. She pulled up the window and breathed in deeply the night air. It was too late to see any sunsets but not too late to think about Peter and the day’s events, and what her dad had said. Had he ever felt how she felt? Could men feel that way? She was sure Peter could. Very sure.

  Dreamily she stood by the window and remembered. The night sounds filled her ears, and the thoughts of the day filled her heart. I told him he couldn’t come, but wouldn’t it be wonderful if he did?

  “Peter,” she whispered his name. What would it be like to go out with him on Saturday night? She wasn’t sure how that would be, but it might be good to find out. She might like it.

  What will I do if he does come to the window? She didn’t know the answer. As she stood there breathing in the night air, she shivered—not because she was cold but because of her thoughts of Peter.

  Six

  Isaac sat between Hannah and Miriam and drove the buggy even though he was the youngest. It was a male thing, Hannah was sure. Isaac would probably fall out of the buggy in embarrassment if they were to pull up to the Sunday evening hymn sing in front of his friends with one of his sisters driving.

  Hannah wished it was Peter driving the buggy—just the two of them, of course. She could imagine the feeling of how his words would wrap around her with comfort and strength. He wouldn’t have to act all grown up like Isaac—who claimed the buggy lines so fiercely—because he was comfortable being himself.

  “Expecting someone to ask you out?” Miriam teased.

  Hannah blushed and shook her head. She knew Peter would never ask her out in the Amish way. He was into rumspringa and would hardly consider a visit to their calm Sunday night hymn sings worth his time. A bedroom window escape was Peter’s real idea of a night out.

  “I think Hannah’s daydreaming about a boy,” Miriam said in fun.

  Hannah remained silent, used to her siblings teasing her.

  “Sam’s got his eye on her.” Isaac slapped the reins and laughed. “But I haven’t seen him around since Hannah’s accident. Probably a good idea. That will keep the hospital bills down.”

  “You didn’t see him, then,” Hannah snapped.

  Isaac kept his eyes straight ahead, but Hannah still heard his chuckle.

  “We shouldn’t be too hard on her,” Miriam said. “She’s had a rough time.”

  “With Sam, I would say so.” Isaac gave up any pretense and laughed loudly.

  “You’re awful.” Hannah made a face at him and then relented and grinned at the thought. What Isaac said was true, and if she wasn’t careful, they would find out about Peter, and then there would be no end to the teasing.

  “At least she still has a sense of humor,” Miriam said as Isaac pulled into the driveway. He stopped at the end of the walk to drop his sisters off and barely waited till they were clear of the buggy before he took off. Hannah gathered her shawl quickly to keep it away from the wheel. The boy would learn the hard way to pay attention to how he drove.

  Now if Peter had been driving—the thought brought a smile to her face—he would have waited till she was at the walk before he pulled the buggy away. She knew he would because he was Peter.

  The smile on her face prompted Miriam to ask again, “You sure no one is taking you home?”

  Hannah shook her head and kept her eyes on the sidewalk. Miriam would probably understand, since she occasionally dated. Yet Peter seemed such a sacred subject, one best left unmentioned for now.

  They walked into the washroom and left their bonnets and shawls there. The girls then gathered in the kitchen, exchanging nods with a few others. As if by an unstated ritual, two of the oldest girls started to move toward the living room. The other girls lined up single file, followed the two leaders into the room, and took their seats on the benches. As Hannah sat down, she noticed right away that Sam was staring at her from across the room. She had felt his eyes on her from the time she stepped into the living room. As far as she was concerned, it was an entirely useless expenditure of his efforts.

  Hannah was sure that a few of the girls had noticed his stare. She saw Annie glance in Sam’s direction, but he wouldn’t take his eyes off of Hannah. Did the boy think he could stare all evening? Why didn’t he go for someone who liked him? She thought she knew the answer and didn’t like it. Perhaps it’s because I’m better looking or maybe my ability to just get up and get going quickly after an accident. He probably thinks I’ll make a good farmhand for that place his father will leave him.

  Hannah realized her face had turned into a look of disgust and caught herself in time. A look of disgust at the hymn sing was not exactly a welcome expression. Hannah relaxed her face and kept her eyes on the songbook page. What an impossible boy.

  By nine o’clock the hymn sing was finished and the talk began, cut short at times when a girl had to leave to catch either her brother’s or her boyfriend’s buggy. Hannah kept a watch on Isaac, who sat in the back row with the younger boys. He was deep into conversation with his cousin and seemed to have plans to stay for a while yet. She turned to talk with Naomi Zook to pass the time.

  When Miriam stood to leave, Hannah cut short her conversation and followed. On the way out, Hannah caught herself thinking that if this were Peter ahead of her, how wonderful the world would be.

  In the washroom, Hannah found her bonnet and shawl. It occurred to her that maybe Sam had similar thoughts about her as he made his way to his buggy. What a strange world—and so mixed up—she thought as she pulled her bonnet strings tight.

  At the end of the walkway, Isaac was parked with the buggy wheels turned away from the step. Perhaps he had visions of a girlfriend walking lightly down the walk toward him.

  “He’s got the wheels turned,” Hannah whispered to Miriam.

  Miriam laughed. “There is hope for him if he doesn’t run us over before he learns.”

  Both girls climbed in, and Isaac burst out with the news almost before they took their seats, “Ernest Byler just took Betsy home tonight.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Miriam said in astonishment. “He’s going on thirty or so.”

  “Well, it’s true. I saw it with my own eyes. Betsy walked right by her brother’s buggy and climbed into Ernest’s. They must have had it planned like that—to try to sneak it by everyone.”

  “She’s got to be close to thirty too,” Hannah mused. “Who would have thought it? I didn’t think either of them would ever get married.”

  “I guess the leftovers take the leftovers,” Isaac proposed as an answer. “Everyone needs someone.”

  “That’s not a nice thing to say,” Miriam said. “Maybe they just waited for each other.”

  “It could be,” he answered.

  “I see you had the wheels turned for us.” Miriam smiled at Isaac, her face faintly visible in the darkness of the buggy.

  “Well…” Isaac seemed embarrassed.

  “That’s okay,” Miriam said, patting his arm.

  “You’re not saying anything,” Isaac said, turning in Hannah’s direction.

  “Just listening,” she said. “After you ran us over, I thought that was nice. Thinking of some other girl perhaps?”

  Isaac made a face at her.

  “You shouldn’t have any problem finding a girl,” she said.

  “Don’t torment me,” Isaac replied, groaning, and both sisters laughed.

  “See,” he said and slappe
d the reins, “it seems like you either get no one or you get too many. No one’s my problem.”

  “Don’t pay any attention to him,” Miriam told Hannah. “He just wants you to feel sorry for him. He’s got all the chances a decent boy should have. He’s too young to make up his mind yet—which is good I suppose. That shows maturity.”

  Isaac rolled his eyes and slapped the reins again.

  A few evenings later, Hannah stood by her upstairs bedroom window. The air, filled with the warmth of the late spring day, stirred in gentle ripples around her. The days were glorious and numbered, and she readily received the joy they gave. Each moment made her feel more alive than the last one.

  On the flat northern Indiana horizon, the faint bubble of the full moon rose and soon would cast its deep glow across the sky. It would be another hour before the moon grew fully visible, but already Hannah could see low hanging clouds accented against the branches of the old tree that leaned over the house roof.

  The thought of Peter came, adding even more fragrance to the scene. Would he actually ever come, climb up the tree, and drop from the branches? What would she do if he did?

  She shivered and pulled the window shut. It slid softly in that way new windows in new houses do. As she turned the latch, Hannah paused. An object had struck the wall and rattled down the siding. Next she heard a ping on the window glass. Slowly she opened the window again. She saw nothing. Her eyes searched, but no form became visible by the tree or anywhere else in the open. Hannah glanced down the fencerow toward the road but saw nothing there either. Out by the barn, their dog, Shep, barked sharply. She almost told him to be quiet, but her voice would attract more attention. His bark was already bad enough.

  Surely, she thought, Peter’s not coming. After all, it has been quite a while since I’ve seen him in town, and even then I warned him not to come.

  But if he did, would he know about the dog? That problem hadn’t occurred to her. Shep barked louder, his bark urgent and aggressive.

  Oh, I can’t believe I am even thinking about this. I don’t want him to come. I don’t want him to come. She chanted the thought to herself but couldn’t move herself away from the window. If Peter was out there, she wanted to see him. Surely he would be smart enough to avoid the dog. He was Peter, after all.

  Hannah listened while the bark moved from the back of the barn to the front and then stopped. The silence was followed by a few short yaps. Nothing more happened. On the horizon the moon had slipped upward until it cleared the tree line. The warm glow of the moonlight revealed no signs of movement. She listened for long moments and then knew it was time to get to bed. Peter or no Peter, the morning would come quickly enough. Slowly she closed the window.

  But the thoughts wouldn’t stop. Even in bed with the covers tight under her chin, they toyed with her mind. What had the noise been? Would Shep bark over nothing? What if it was Peter, and he got chased away? Now he’d never come back. But what if he did actually come to the window? Would she let him in? Hannah shivered again. I can’t think like this! Stop it. Stop it. It’s so wrong, and I have to be a good girl.

  With her eyes on the window and the moon’s glow soon bright in the sky, Hannah drifted off to sleep.

  At breakfast the next morning, her mom brought up the subject. “I wonder what Shep was barking about last night.”

  “I heard it too,” her dad said. “It was probably one of the cows running around. The barking came from the barn.”

  “Was one out?” Kathy asked.

  “I saw nothing while doing the chores,” Roy said. “They are all accounted for. Did you see anything missing, Isaac?”

  Isaac shook his head sleepily, apparently unwilling to make words this early in the morning.

  “That’s strange.” Kathy glanced at Hannah. “Did you see anything? You’re often up later than the others.”

  “I heard Shep barking,” Hannah said and kept any emotion out of her voice. She had seen nothing, but they would not take it lightly if they knew who she thought it might have been.

  Kathy glanced at her again. “Did you hear anything else?”

  “Some noises on the side of the house,” she said in the same tone of voice. “Then a bong and a ping.”

  “Well, that could be anything,” Kathy said.

  “That was probably a limb of that old tree brushing against the side of the house,” Roy added. “I need to cut that limb off before it falls onto the house.”

  Hannah almost said, “No, don’t cut it down,” but caught herself in time.

  “You had better not cut it yet, at least not right away,” Kathy said. “The children like to climb around on the thing.”

  Hannah took a deep breath of relief and then said quickly, “Yes, it’s real good to climb up on the roof with. Isaac still likes to use it.”

  Isaac didn’t say anything.

  “I don’t know,” Roy said. “You shouldn’t be climbing around on the roof anyway. The limb could be a danger to the house during one of those wind storms. I think it needs to go.”

  “Whatever you think,” Kathy acquiesced quickly.

  Hannah said nothing. She figured there was no use, and besides her dad wouldn’t get to the project right away. Perhaps Peter would come before that. Then she remembered and reversed her thinking. I don’t want him to come. I don’t want him to come. Those two trains of thought could sure confuse a person.

  The next night the moon rose a little sooner and lit up the yard with its glow. Hannah stood by the window, unable to leave her post. The two thoughts in her mind chased each other around. He’s not coming, she told herself. It’s much too light. If he does come and Shep chases him, Dad might catch him. I wonder if he likes me enough to come anyway. The thought caught her fancy. What if he wants to see me so much that he comes charging across the yard even if the moon is shining? What if he chases Shep away? Does he like me that much? Wouldn’t that be something?

  Finally she knew that if he did come, she would climb out the window with him. There couldn’t be that much harm in doing so.

  With one last look around and no sign of Peter, Hannah closed the window and pulled down the spring-loaded shade. She got ready for bed and then put the shade back up for one last look around. There was no sign of anyone, but she could almost imagine there was. Peter was that wonderful. He would come soon, drop from the branch, and knock on her window, and they would go for a ride together in his nice sports car.

  Hannah looked at the moon for a long time and studied the dark ridges that ran at crazy angles across the surface. Its soft glow seemed to agree with her. The world was right, and Peter would come soon—because he was Peter.

  The moon rose later each night, and eventually Hannah no longer spent as much time by the window.

  Today Kathy had both girls helping with peaches. The heat of the wood oven, carrying the heavy jars back and forth, and pealing the endless supply of peaches made for a very long day. There had been little time to think of other things.

  Hannah hadn’t forgotten Peter completely and paused tonight for a moment by the window. Her body and mind were equally weary as she looked out over the dark barnyard. At the memory of his words, faint pleasantness filled her, and then sleepiness overcame her. She climbed into bed and fell quickly into a deep, exhausted sleep.

  A mile away, a blue MGC, with its six-cylinder engine, purred slowly along the dirt road.

  “Why don’t you go faster?” the passenger asked the driver.

  “I’m not ready to get there yet,” Peter told his cousin Lester.

  “Scared, aren’t you?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Then what am I along for?”

  “I already told you. You need to feed the dog while I see the girl.”

  “So what keeps the dog from feeding on me?”

  “Look, I’ve been feeding this dog every other night for almost a week now—ever since he chased me off. Please. He’s not a vicious dog, just noisy.”

  “S
o you’re trying to see this girl, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s so important about her? I mean, there are plenty of English girls in town to see—like a certain girl I know of.” Lester looked at Peter slyly. “Not everything is a secret, you know.”

  “This one is Amish. Now, we’ve already talked about it. Would you hush?”

  “Well, there are plenty of Amish girls in town too. Rumspringa doesn’t leave them behind, you know.”

  Peter paused for effect. “This one is different, okay?”

  Lester looked skeptically in Peter’s direction. The lights of the car cast too little light for Lester to catch a good glimpse of Peter’s face. “How old is this girl?”

  “About sixteen, maybe seventeen. About our age. Certainly not older.”

  “Have I seen her before?”

  “I don’t think so. I never did either till we met in the hospital. They’re not in our district.”

  “So what’s this girl like? What’s so special?”

  “Would you quit being so nosy?”

  “What are you going to do when you get up to her window?”

  “That’s my business. Now just be quiet. We’re getting close to their place.”

  Lester wasn’t done yet. “I hope she knows what she’s doing. I certainly wouldn’t trust you.”

  “That’s what’s so cute about her.” Peter grinned in the darkness. “She doesn’t know what she’s doing. She’s got all kinds of stars in her eyes. Look, I’m just going to take her out for a ride. You’ll have to wait around while we go for a spin.”

  “I don’t trust you. I do declare!” Lester proclaimed.

  “Come on! Would you just be quiet now and get that bag ready to feed the dog with?”

  Lester grunted. “You’d better not get into trouble, or I’ll tell on you.”

  “I won’t. Besides I’m not doing anything wrong. Sure, she’s only seventeen or so, but what’s her dad going to do if he catches us? Give me a lecture on how it’s a little early for a girl to do rumspringa? That’s about all he can do.”