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

  When the buggy stopped, Coons had to jump back across the ditch to deal with it. “Can I do something for you?” he asked.

  “Name’s Roy Miller,” Hannah’s father said, leaning out of his buggy. “I live down the road. My daughter was just dropped off by a young boy. I was wondering if this is the same one.”

  “What time was that?” Officer Coons asked.

  “About twenty minutes ago.”

  “You have any information about him?”

  “Just that his name is Peter.”

  “This one will be hard to identify by his name, I’m sorry to say. Hit that tree pretty hard.” Officer Coons turned his flashlight in the direction Roy had just come from. Long black skid marks were clearly visible. “Looks like whoever this was was driving too fast. You know what kind of car he was driving?”

  Roy shook his head. “I’m not sure. I never saw it myself. I think my wife mentioned a blue MGC once. The boy’s been around my daughter before.”

  “One of those situations.” The officer was sympathetic. “The color of the paint won’t be much help either, I’m sorry to say, but we can look at the make of the car.”

  Coons’ flashlight beam shone across the ditch at the wrecked car frame. The beam only partially reached before it faded away. The officer shook his flashlight to get more light and then brought the beam to bear on the rear of the car. Even from that distance, they could both read the distinct MGC letters.

  “Sorry,” the officer said. “Someone close to the girl?”

  “No, they were just out for the first time.”

  “Did they have some kind of fight or something to cause him to be driving this fast?”

  “Yes,” Roy said with a voice that communicated his reluctance to make such an admission. “There was a disagreement. I only found out about it when he dropped her off.”

  “He still shouldn’t have been driving like that,” Officer Coons was quick to say. “Hormones, I guess, cost him big this time.”

  The wail of sirens came from the distance. The emergency vehicle’s lights mingled with those of the trooper’s cruiser.

  “I should be going,” Roy said, slapping the reins and turning the buggy around. As he passed the first rescue vehicle, he turned his head from the burst of bright lights.

  When Roy returned home, Kathy was waiting in the kitchen for him. She had lit a kerosene lamp and set it on the table, its flickering light ghostly on the walls.

  “What was that all about?” she asked, her voice hushed.

  Apparently something about Roy’s face, framed in the kitchen door, brought her to her feet, and Kathy sucked in her breath. “What’s happened?”

  Roy sat down, numb, and motioned for her to be seated. “I noticed something—a fire—when we were walking toward the house. You and Hannah didn’t see it because your backs were turned. It looked like it could have been an accident, and so that was what I went to see.”

  “And?” Her question hung in the air.

  “It was him,” Roy said quietly.

  “Peter?” Her hands went to her face.

  “Yes,” he said, “I’m afraid so. How are we going to tell Hannah?”

  “What happened?” Kathy asked.

  “There was an officer there already. From the skid marks, he thinks the boy was driving too fast. When I asked questions, he started asking me questions. Now that I think about it, I probably should have kept my mouth shut.”

  “You didn’t tell him that Peter was out with Hannah?” Kathy tried to keep her composure.

  “I’m afraid I did. I wasn’t planning to, but the officer started asking direct questions, and it just came out.”

  “Oh, my,” Kathy made as if to rise from the chair but sat down again. “What if this comes out? They weren’t even dating.”

  Roy numbly nodded.

  They sat there for a long time and said nothing. Finally the fatigue of the day took over, and they stumbled wearily to bed. Sleep came soon enough, and when the alarm went off, it was all both of them could do to get up.

  Since he started his full-time factory job, Roy had to leave for work early. The farmwork was now limited to evenings and weekends. His ride always came by at five thirty.

  “I’m sorry I won’t be here for the talk with Hannah,” he told Kathy as he ate his breakfast. “You could speak with her now but save the news for this evening. I could tell her then.”

  “I’d rather not wait,” Kathy said. “I’ll tell her.”

  Hearing his ride approaching on the gravel road, Roy nodded and dashed out the door, his lunch pail in his hand.

  Kathy let Hannah and her sisters sleep in an extra hour before she woke them. She woke Isaac at the regular time, and he was now outside, busy with his chores. Hannah came downstairs first. Her head was throbbing, but even worse was the pain in her heart. Love had betrayed her.

  “Sit down,” Kathy said when she entered the kitchen. “We might as well wait till your sisters arrive. I don’t want to have to repeat myself.”

  When Hannah looked up, showing the wounded expression on her face, Kathy said, “They have to be told. You know that. And I’m afraid there’s more—far more—than even you know.”

  Hannah’s eyes teared up. Not understanding but nodding anyway, she clasped her hands together tightly under the table. She knew she deserved a good scolding and was ready for whatever punishment would come her way. With a deep breath, she calmed herself.

  “Sit down, girls, for a minute,” Kathy told Miriam and Emma when they appeared. “I have something I need to tell all of you.”

  Hannah looked up, and in an attempt to help her mother, she blurted out, “I’m so sorry.” She looked down to her lap. “I know I deserve to be punished for what I did.”

  “What did she do?” Emma asked with great curiosity.

  “Yes, what?” Miriam echoed.

  “Now let’s not make this harder than it has to be,” Kathy said, her voice gentle. “Hannah has made a mistake, and it’s hard enough already.”

  “I’ll do anything to make it right,” Hannah cried.

  “It’s not that, dear.” Kathy put her arms around Hannah, tears now in her own eyes. “Something happened after Peter left here last night.”

  “Would someone explain what happened?” Emma complained. “Who’s Peter?”

  Hannah looked blankly at her mom.

  “Hannah, Peter had an accident last night after he left here.” Kathy had to force herself to look at Hannah as she continued, “Hannah, I have to tell you Peter was killed in that accident.”

  Hannah’s face went white.

  No one spoke until Hannah said, “He’s dead? Peter’s gone?”

  “Yes. I’m afraid so.”

  “Just like that?” Hannah whispered the words.

  “I’m so sorry.” Kathy pulled her close again.

  “But,” Hannah struggled to make her voice audible, “you don’t just die like that. I was with him last night. He can’t be dead.”

  Kathy held her tightly, cushioning her sobs. Emma and Miriam waited speechless with sober faces.

  “How did it happen?” Hannah finally asked when she had composed herself.

  “The officer thinks Peter was driving too fast. He hit a tree. Your dad went down there last night.”

  “Why didn’t you wake me then?” Hannah asked.

  “We thought it best not to. It just didn’t seem right.”

  “It’s all my fault…that he’s dead,” Hannah stated numbly.

  “No,” Kathy said. “We don’t know why these things happen. They just do.”

  “But I sent him away. If I hadn’t made him angry, it wouldn’t have happened. It was my fault.”

  “Nee, it wasn’t. He drove too fast. That’s not your fault—it was his. And as for sending him away, I think you know that was the right thing to do.”

  “It’s still my fault,” Hannah said as the tears continued to flow.

  Miriam and Emma still had puzzled looks on their
faces. Hannah would leave it to her mother to explain. Her voice was too choked to try even if she had wanted to.

  “I did a lot of things wrong last night,” she finally said.

  Kathy then turned to Miriam and Emma and explained what had happened. Miriam went to Hannah and gave her a hug. Emma sat in her chair transfixed.

  “She went out with a boy…through the window. Now he’s dead.”

  “I know. It’s all my fault.” Hannah put her head in her hands.

  “It wasn’t your fault,” Kathy said. “You have to stop saying that, or you’ll never get over this.”

  “I never will get over it. I know I won’t,” Hannah insisted.

  After a meager breakfast, during which Hannah barely touched her food, Kathy assigned them their duties for the day, Hannah included. Work would surely help soothe some of the pain.

  Ten

  By late that evening, Hannah had finally calmed down enough for Kathy to leave her alone in her bedroom. The tears had broken out fresh again after supper. Roy had wanted to speak with her but had decided against it when Kathy told him she’d gone through enough for one day. “Give her time,” Kathy said.

  Kathy came downstairs to join Ray in the living room. “When’s the funeral?” she asked.

  “Day after tomorrow. Do you think we should go?” he said, glancing up at her.

  “Yes, I think we probably should,” she said.

  “What about Hannah?”

  Kathy paused. “I’m not sure, but it may be the best thing for her. She’s taking it really hard. Sometimes facing reality is the best route to take.”

  Roy nodded. “I think that’s the best. Why do you think she’s taking it so hard?”

  Kathy gave the question some thought and said, “You know, I’m not sure I have it figured out yet. If he was her steady, it would make sense, but he wasn’t.”

  “Do you think she loved the boy?” Roy asked.

  Kathy shrugged. “It’s hard to imagine so. She hardly knew him. She just saw him maybe two or three times.”

  “You don’t think they’ve been seeing each other secretly, do you?”

  Kathy frowned. “The thought has crossed my mind, but she isn’t one to lie. I see no signs that she has started now. No, it must be something else.”

  Roy agreed but added, “We need to keep an eye on her. She’s still pretty torn up. It won’t help if she sees the story in the paper.”

  “What did they say?” she asked.

  “Amish Boy Killed After Dropping Off Girlfriend,” he said and kept his eyes straight ahead.

  “Did the story give Hannah’s name?”

  “No, I mentioned no names to the officer other than my name, Roy. They can hardly trace it with that. I don’t want Hannah’s name attached to Peter’s death. We know it wasn’t her fault, but seeing it in print might not convince others—or Hannah for that matter.”

  Kathy sighed. “Perhaps Da Hah will have mercy. Seems like she’s had it hard enough already. It would be hard on her if it comes out publicly.”

  “Perhaps there will be mercy,” Roy said.

  “Let’s ask Him,” Kathy suggested.

  Roy nodded and lowered himself to his knees beside the couch. Kathy followed his example, gripped his arm, and listened to him pray. Dear God, we ask for mercy and grace on this situation. Hannah has made her mistakes, and we ask for forgiveness for her and for Peter. Please be with his family as they suffer through this time. Their sorrow must be great, much greater than ours. In Your loving kindness, comfort them and give them peace. Amen.

  They got up from their knees, and Kathy made a quick trip upstairs. A peek in Hannah’s bedroom confirmed that she seemed to be sound asleep.

  The day of the funeral dawned cloudy with rain threatening, which Hannah thought quite appropriate. They had all gotten up early because there would be nearly an hour’s drive to the district in which Peter had lived. Hannah ate breakfast in silence, and then they were on the road by seven thirty. Long before they even got close to the house, the road became lined with buggies. Vans, filled with what were clearly visitors, slowly passed them on the other side of the road. Nearer to the house, even the vans got in line and pulled along at the same speed as the buggies.

  “It’s going to be a huge funeral,” Kathy noted.

  “Quite large,” Roy agreed. “A tragedy usually brings in more people.”

  Hannah tried to hold back her tears. How would she explain them? No one but her family knew she had any connections with Peter’s death. Still the guilt hung heavy over her. Guilt almost more than she could bear.

  When they finally turned onto the final road, the buggies had slowed down to a slow walk. Within a hundred yards of the field where they would park, the line moved haltingly, a constant stopping and starting.

  “Drop us off at the house,” Kathy suggested.

  “You think you’ll get into the house service?” Roy asked.

  “Since we’re not relatives, I doubt it. But they have a large pole barn out back. I’ll wait for you at the house. Then we can head out there.”

  Roy nodded. Amish funerals were often conducted in two locations if the main building couldn’t accommodate everyone. Separate preachers and preaching would be arranged with the secondary meeting kept informed of the progress in the main house. In this way similar schedules would be maintained.

  Roy slowed the buggy to a halt and let Kathy out with Hannah and Emma. Isaac had driven a separate buggy with Miriam. As Hannah stepped down from the buggy, the usual sight greeted her—the long rows of men and boys attired in white shirts and black suits on each side of the driveway.

  While the sight was the usual, the effect on Hannah this morning wasn’t. She tried to maintain her composure as she followed Kathy up the driveway toward the house. The weight of so many somber and black-clad males was palpable in the air.

  I’m guilty, Hannah cried inwardly as she fought back the tears. Other accusing voices joined in as the weight pressed in on her. Yes, it’s my fault Peter is dead.

  She felt so condemned. The best thing she could do to keep from crying out her guilt to everyone present was to keep her eyes on the ground and not show any undue emotion.

  Hannah placed one foot in front of the other while she fought with her thoughts and her guilt. Surely relief would come soon after this day was over. This pain simply couldn’t go on forever.

  While they waited outside the house for Roy, Kathy greeted some of the women. Most of them were unfamiliar to Hannah, visitors no doubt, likely relatives of Peter’s she had never met. Everyone spoke in short whispers, no in-depth conversations. Such talk would come later, but for now everyone stood silently and waited for the ushers to let them know when it would be time to go inside.

  When Roy appeared, he motioned for Kathy to follow him to the pole barn and the secondary service. However, an usher stopped them and indicated they were to get in line for the primary service in the house.

  “We’re not relatives,” Roy whispered to him.

  “It was one of your cousin’s friends, was it not?” the usher asked.

  “Yes,” Roy agreed.

  “That’s good enough, then.” The usher motioned with his hand. “Most of the immediate relatives are already seated. There will yet be room.”

  Roy shrugged and got in line with Kathy and the girls. Hannah could see nothing of Miriam and Isaac. Wherever they were, they would find seats for themselves.

  The service started without any songs as all Amish funerals did. The service began abruptly with the preaching as if to accent the suddenness with which death often comes.

  Hannah sat numbly beside her mom and tried not to move. She listened to the preaching and hoped something would be said that would help. They were now on the third speaker, all of whom spoke, as Amish ministers do, without notes or a Bible. The love and mercy of God was mentioned, but the main points all three men made were about the evilness of sin and how God calls us before the judgment seat at unexpected t
imes and in unexpected ways.

  “The judgment day comes quickly,” Minister Alvin said, “like the turning of a page or the opening of a door. We never know what lies beyond that door.” He clasped his hands in front of him, holding them at chest level. His black beard, not yet showing any signs of gray, came down far enough to lightly touch his clasped hands.

  “A holy God demands an answer for sin,” he said as his voice gathered strength. “We cannot live as we want and then die expecting that He does not care. Our lives are as a vapor that today is rising, and then tomorrow suddenly it may be gone. Then comes the judgment. Today we have been given a warning in the life of one of our young people. We do not know what he found on the other side of that door. Perhaps he cried out to God and found mercy. How will we know until we ourselves arrive over there?

  “What we do know is that time is still with each of us,” Alvin thundered—his face intense, his eyes raised to the ceiling and focused on what could be eternity itself. “Time to repent, time to turn away from the world, time to come back to our families and the church, time to find God and good. The only question is: Will we? Will we take the warning? Will we heed the call of God? Will we listen to what He is saying?”

  Hannah listened intently. Other than feeling a deep terror, her whole body felt numb. She was quite sure that she was worthy of being burned to a crisp on the spot. If I hadn’t made him mad, he wouldn’t have driven so fast. Now nothing, for all eternity, can bring him back.

  Hannah couldn’t have cried if she wanted to; she was too cold. Even in this room of more than 600 people, she shivered. Kathy glanced at her, concerned.

  Alvin now came to the end of his sermon. “It is only by the mercy of God that any of us can ever stand before the Almighty God. If He had not sent His only Son, the beloved and holy Jesus, then all of us would be without hope. It is by the blood of Jesus, shed on that cruel cross, that our sins can be washed away. But we must all turn from our sins to Him. May God have mercy on us all.”

  With that Alvin took his seat, and Kathy pulled the shivering Hannah close to her. The ushers stood and began to escort the lines of people past the closed casket. One by one they filed by until only the family was left. Those seated inside the house returned to their seats while those from the barn stood outside waiting.