A Dream for Hannah (31 page)

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow,” Hannah said. “I should have done this a long time ago.”

“I don’t think so.” Betty pointed toward the small lamp stand beside the couch.

Hannah looked where Betty pointed. She had left one of her letters from Sam lying there, unread, from the morning’s mail.

“I let him look at it,” Betty said, her face determined.

Hannah’s face went white. “He saw one of Sam’s letters?” She barely got the words out.

“Jah,”
Betty said, “I told him you two have been writing all summer, that I thought you had been sweet on each other since your school days, and that your mother was really for it.”

Hannah felt the world go round and round and had to sit down.

“I’m sorry,” Betty said, “but you should have told him yourself.”

“Maybe,” Hannah said.

Later that night as the twinkling stars filled her window and the house was quiet and still, Hannah cried like a baby, her sobs muffled by her pillow.

Sunday morning—the day of Hannah’s baptism—arrived with wonderful weather. But the joy of the occasion was diminished by Hannah’s knowledge that after hearing about the letters between her and Sam, Jake would not be at church. He might even have already left for home.

It’s for the best,
Hannah tried to tell herself, knowing full well that her mind would not be able to convince her heart. Apparently God had intervened and answered her prayers. She just had no idea the answer would be so painful.

Hannah had woken up with a splitting headache, dressed, and made her way slowly downstairs. She knew her face must still be tearstained, but she didn’t care.

“What on earth? What’s happened to you, Hannah? You look awful,” Betty said when Hannah entered the kitchen.

“I’ve messed everything up,” she wailed.

“Sit down,” Betty ordered. “Not so loud—you’ll wake the rest of the children.”

“Now it’s my baptismal day, and Mom and Dad aren’t even here.”

“You knew that wasn’t possible,” Betty said, sympathy in her voice. “It’s too far for them to travel, and everything moved so fast.”

“I could have asked Bishop Nisley if I could be baptized at home.” Hannah felt the tears come again, her insides in knots.

“That’s a little late to think about now,” Betty said. “You knew it would have been hard to move your baptism into Indiana since your instruction class was out here. Just be happy with what you have. It’s a beautiful day for a baptism. And you have your problem with Jake solved—not the best way possible but taken care of. And you’ll be baptized out here under our beautiful mountains.”

Hannah felt the tears stop but not because of Betty’s words. It was the thought that Jake wouldn’t be in church that turned her heart cold and made her tears dry.

“It will be beautiful,” Hannah agreed with a weak smile.

“That’s a good girl.” Betty patted her on the arm. “Now let’s get ready around here.”

Hannah nodded, helped with breakfast, and then got the younger girls up. They ate mostly in silence, but on the way to church, her heart pounded again.
What if Jake hadn’t left yet at all? What if he had pondered the question long and hard and figured out that I would never look at him that way if my heart truly belonged to another. Jake surely understands me, trusts me, and will at least stay for my baptism. Perhaps we can talk this afternoon and get this matter straightened out.

“God has been so good to you,” Betty said from the front seat as they left for church.

“I know,” Hannah said, gazing at the nearby mountains.

She then turned her eyes to the buggies in the line ahead, and her heart caught in her throat at the sight of the Nisley’s buggy. Dizzyingly she watched, almost certain it was Jake’s dress shoes and pant legs appearing in the doorway of the buggy.

“Well, we’re here,” Betty said.

Distracted, Hannah glanced away and hoped her cheeks weren’t flushed. When Betty turned back around, Hannah looked toward the Nisley’s buggy again, but there was no Jake. It must have been one of Nisley’s young boys because there was no place for Jake to have disappeared to so quickly.

Numbly she climbed down from the buggy, helped Betty’s girls down, and then followed them inside. In the washroom she smiled the best she could and hoped it was good enough.

During her last instruction class, which was held upstairs, the sober-faced ministers didn’t seem to notice anything wrong with her. If they did, they wrote it off to baptismal jitters. With the class done, they all filed downstairs again and took seats on the front bench. Hannah felt a great nervousness sweep over her at this sudden exposure. Never would she have sat in front of the church by her own choice. Was this how it was when one got married? If Jake were beside her, Hannah figured her emotions could have been much more manageable. Even if he was in the boy’s row, it would have helped.

Since he wasn’t, she bit her lip and hoped the tears wouldn’t come. How foolish she had been—so caught up in her own world again—and now her parents weren’t even here for her baptism.

The ministers filed down from upstairs, and the local minister, Mose Chupp, stood up to speak. What he said, Hannah thought was nice, but she wished he was finished. Bishop Nisley had the main sermon, and she tried to listen more carefully.

Bishop Nisley had just finished with a story of a shepherd who went out to look for the sheep he had lost.

“All of us were lost sheep,” he said, “lost on the mountains of sin and bound for destruction. If God hadn’t come looking for us, there would have been no hope. We could never have found our way home on our own. The mountains were too rough, the path too steep, and the road too hard to travel. Only the loving care of the Shepherd saved us. Jesus shed His blood so that as many who wished could be carried home in His arms.

“Today we are here to witness several of our young people who have made that choice. They have chosen to forsake the world and all it has to offer and follow Jesus and His commandments. They have also made themselves open to the voice of His church and to receive counsel and instructions for the new life they have entered into.

“And make no mistake about it—new life in God begins before baptism. We are to believe in God and then to seal our inward renewal with an outward confession and sign. Baptism is that sign of water—not that it can wash away sins, only the blood of Jesus can do that.”

Bishop Nisley paused and let his gaze move up and down the line of young people. “As many of you, then, who still desire baptism, would you please kneel?”

Hannah and the others moved slowly to their knees on the hard floor. She felt like every eye must be looking at her, but somehow she kept on breathing.

“Do you confess before God and the church that you have forsaken the world, sin, and the devil, and all their evil works?” Bishop Nisley asked and quickly heard the answers from those kneeling.

Hannah’s mouth felt dry, but somehow
“jah”
came out.

“Do you believe that Jesus Christ is the only begotten Son of God, sent to take away the sins of the world, and have you accepted His salvation?”

This time Hannah’s answer came a little easier.

Then he asked, “Do you confess that you will continue to submit to the Word of God and to the counsel of the church in your Christian journey through life?”

Hannah said,
“Jah,”
and relief flooded her. She would begin this new life and forsake the old. How appropriate it was that all this was coming together in one place. Even if her parents weren’t here, she would see them soon. Once back home she could forget about Jake and teach her heart to behave.

The tears stung her eyes again, but resolution gripped her. She
would
behave.

The bishop’s voice was distinct as he came down the line, but soon both of his hands gently touched her
kapp.

“I baptize you on your confession, in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit,” he said, and Hannah felt water from the deacon’s pitcher wet her hair and then trickle down her cheeks.

Moments later, he was done with the girl beside her and had gone back to lift the first boy from his knees with a handshake and a kiss. When Bishop Nisley got to Hannah, he offered his hand and then turned her over to his wife Elizabeth, who kissed her on the cheek. Hannah wiped the water off her face and tried to smile. Elizabeth touched her gently on the shoulder and then greeted the girl beside her.

Hannah took a deep breath as the service came to a close. While the meal was served, she wished again that Jake was seated in his familiar place at the long table but pushed the thought away. She really needed to begin now to live her new life away from such foolish dreams.

As the Greyhound bus drove through Billings, after the all-night drive, Jake ached from his seat’s tight quarters. Other things hurt a lot worse, things like the pain in his heart—pain tempered only by his anger at Hannah.

So, all girls are the same, after all. Now I know for sure. Even girls that don’t look the same are treacherous beings who smile while they cut your heart out and throw it away. So Hannah had been writing to her boyfriend all summer. She was writing to someone while she led me on with those deep brown eyes. How could I have fallen for this again?
Jake
hit the seat in front of him out of sheer frustration, glad no one sat in it.

“Would you quit beating the seat?” a voice protested. A twenty-something girl stuck her frowning face around the back of her seat. When she caught sight of his face, she brightened. “Oh, I didn’t know it was you. I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to snap at you.” Her blue eyes sparkled. “My name’s Clara. What’s yours?”

Why not?
Jake
asked himself.
Just talk to her. Sure she’s English, but maybe English girls are somehow different, maybe better than Amish girls. They couldn’t be worse, that’s for sure.

“Hi,” he said, returning her smile. “It’s Jake.”

“Well, hi, Jake,” Clara said. “Are you heading home?”

“Yes, I am,” he said, surprised that she should guess. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere in particular at the moment.”

That’s a strange answer,
Jake thought.
Everyone is going somewhere.

“Really?” He went along with her. “Well, I’m going home after being gone all summer. Home to the farm and working the soil I guess. I’ve always been a farmer, and I guess I always will be.”

“Ugh,” Clara said and made a face. “Dirt. Who wants dirt and soil and working in the sun?” Her face disappeared around the edge of the seat. From the sounds that followed, there was no doubt she wouldn’t turn around in her seat again.

So, they are the same,
Jake thought.

The girl got off at the next stop, and Jake was glad. He resolved that when he got back home he would never trust girls again, good-looking or otherwise.

Twenty-eight

Hannah was dropped off at the Greyhound station only to discover her bus was running late. To pass the half hour or so, she decided to take a walk across the street to what seemed to be a small bookshop.