A Dream for Hannah (33 page)

Hannah gave him a smile in return.

He then spoke awkwardly, “I just wanted to check, to make sure I understood you right. Can I take you home on Sunday evening?” He searched her face. “I know we said so in the letters, but I wanted to be sure.”

“I understand,” Hannah said.
“Jah,
that will be fine. Sunday night.”

“Okay, then.” Sam smiled now and seemed a little less embarrassed.

“I’ll see you, then,” he said, climbing back into the buggy. “I really have to be going. There are still chores to do at the farm. I just took a few minutes to come over to see you.”

“Oh wait,” she said, almost forgetting the book in her hand. “I have something for you. I hope you like it.” With that she handed him the book.

He looked pleased but again at a loss for words. “Thanks,” he finally mustered. “That was nice of you.”

“Oh, it isn’t much. Well, have a good evening, Sam,” Hannah said as she stepped aside so he could swing his buggy around and out the lane again. When he was on the main road, she stood still and watched his buggy drive away, a queasy feeling in her stomach.
Well, he’s already improving his manners at least. Surely God is giving me signs to point the way.

Slightly comforted, Hannah walked back inside the house.

“Seeing him on Sunday night?” Kathy asked.

Hannah nodded and went up to her room. Morning would come soon enough, and her new life would begin in earnest. It would take a lot of rest, she thought, to keep up with it all.

Just the sight of Sam smelled of hard work, and she knew she would be expected to keep up. Why she hadn’t noticed before, she wasn’t sure, but hard work was good for everyone, she believed.
And with God’s help,
she told herself as she fell asleep,
I can do it.

On Sunday morning Mary Troyer, Hannah’s friend from school days, found time to talk with Hannah in the entrance to the house where the meeting was to be held.

“How was Montana?” she asked.

“Beautiful,” Hannah whispered. This one-word explanation truly captured it all for her. Jake had best be kept out of the picture.

“I haven’t seen your Aunt Betty in years,” Mary said, “ever since they moved out there.”

“She’s doing fine,” Hannah said. “Their little group has their struggles, but they’ll make it. And they were all very nice to me.”

“Was there a large young people’s group?” Mary asked.

“No,” Hannah said, “and just boys.”

Mary grinned. “I’m surprised you didn’t find one out there…instead of writing to Sam. You surprise me, Hannah.”

“I guess it was just meant to be. So what about you and Laverne. Is that still on?”

“I guess you could say so,” Mary said. “We’re going to marry.”

“When’s the date?” Hannah asked.

“I can’t tell you,” Mary said slyly, “but Laverne will be helping on the new construction crew out at Miller’s. I can tell you that much.”

“So it’s soon, then?” Hannah said, visions of the good-looking Laverne flashing in her mind.

Mary demurred. “You know how it is. It takes money nowadays to run a household. A good job helps.”

“So when is it?” Hannah insisted, forcing herself to stay with the subject at hand.

“I can’t tell you,” Mary repeated and laughed. “But don’t be surprised. I can tell you that much.”

“Ah, so it’s soon, then?” Hannah concluded.

Mary laughed again. “We should join the others,” she said and motioned toward the other women. “It’s just you and Sam that surprises me. Even back in eighth grade, I could never figure it out when you picked him, but I guess he does need a good wife.”

Hannah said nothing as they walked over to the others.

As church started, Hannah could clearly see the line of boys. Sam didn’t pay her much attention during the service, keeping his eyes on the preacher, which was fine with her. Not like Jake, it occurred to her.

After church she rode home with her parents. Hannah spent the afternoon in her room with a book, not looking forward to the evening’s date with Sam.

After supper she rode to the hymn sing with Isaac and Miriam, wondering what she and Sam would talk about later.
Will Sam stay till twelve? Should I mention anything about what time might be appropriate? What time would that be?
Hannah sighed and decided that things would just have to be taken as they happened.

She was not as afraid that the relationship might fail as she supposed she ought to be. She would care for Sam eventually, and for now, she just needed to stop worrying about what
could
be
and think about what
was.

Certainly Sam wouldn’t stop the relationship. Would she stop it?
Could
she stop it? That was the question she couldn’t ask. The road was simply too clear—too certain. The signposts were too obvious to be mistaken. Life was not meant to be lived in a dream world, but with real people. Yes, that was what it was, and Hannah would do her part to make it work.

The start of the hymn sing arrived soon enough and with it the familiar songs. It was good to be back among so many young people. Most of the faces were familiar to her. Those that weren’t, she assumed, came from neighboring districts. With such a large settlement, such back and forth visits were common enough.

After the last song had been sung, Hannah stepped outside and realized that it was harder than she had anticipated to figure out which buggy was Sam’s. It wouldn’t be right to ask someone, so she had to make the selection on her own. In the just-fallen dusk, she headed down the walks, hoping against hope some strange boy wouldn’t be sitting behind the buggy door she was about to open. With Jake—though she had never seen his buggy—she would have known his buggy at first sight. She seemed sure of that and then scolded herself for even thinking about Jake.

It was Sam’s freckled face that greeted her, lit dimly by the lantern light from the kitchen window. She couldn’t have missed because his red hair glowed softly. Her feelings of relief at the correct choice soon translated into a comfortable silence as they headed out the driveway. Sam said little until they arrived at her place, and she left it at that. A farmer’s wife spoke little anyway, and it might as well begin in like manner.

Hannah offered Sam a glass of orange juice, a fit gesture, she figured, to a healthy start to their relationship.

Sam still proved to have little to say, and so Hannah filled in the blanks with talk mostly about Montana. Sam joined in but only on subjects that involved work and business. Even when she talked about her trip, his questions were about the amount Betty had charged for rides, how many rides were given each day, and how much profit they made.

Her answers caused Sam to lapse into silence and then mutter calculations, which were followed by expressions of delight. “That was pretty good money,” he said.

“I suppose so,” Hannah allowed, although that hadn’t been the point of her story.

“I wonder if someone could do something like that around here?” Sam wondered out loud.

“There are no mountains,” she said. “That seems to be what really drew the people.”

“Tourists, in other words,” Sam stated.

She nodded.

“Then tourists are tourists,” he said. “They are really all the same. They all want to see things. In Montana they want to see the countryside, but here they want to see us.” Sam had suddenly become quite the conversationalist.

“I suppose,” Hannah agreed but didn’t entirely like the idea. A horseback ride in Montana was one thing. A trail ride in Indiana was something else entirely.

“It’s really good.” Sam was fully enthusiastic now. “That’s valuable experience you gained. I never thought people out West could teach us anything.” He shrugged his shoulders in sympathy and dismissal. “We are much more industrialized in the East. We have the factories, the hotels, the big lumberyards, and Amish Acres. But I guess it goes to prove that we learn something new every day.”

“I think people around here probably already know about giving horseback rides,” Hannah said with a smile.

“Could be,” Sam allowed. “I just had never heard of it. Anyway,” he said, brightening again, “you still have had the experience of doing it. That’s very valuable. Not too many women can do that.”

“I think they can,” Hannah objected. “It wasn’t that hard.”

“Well,” Sam said, blushing a little, “I think it’s good that you can. About the others, I don’t know. I know my mother can, and it’s important that you can.”

Hannah got the distinct feeling that she had passed some kind of test. But it was okay, she decided. She needed to learn to be the proper wife, and this was how she would learn it, that’s all. It certainly never happened that way in dreams, though. Of that she was sure.

“I’m glad you like it,” Hannah said out loud.

Sam grinned from ear to ear, and his mouth stayed shut, which Hannah took as a sign from God to continue on this journey. Maybe she was having a positive influence on Sam.

“You should have seen the countryside down by the river,” she started to tell him in the silence that followed. “The land stretched out in a long, flat plateau beside the river. There were mountains all around, and the wind blew across the water. We used to gallop—” She caught herself in horror, but the words couldn’t be taken back. What if Sam asked who she meant by “we”? Hannah continued, hoping he had missed it, “along the riverbank, mostly in the evenings.” Sam didn’t say anything one way or the other. He just seemed to be listening.

Hannah quickly continued, “Sometimes there were sunsets. You couldn’t see them too well because of the mountains, but it’s so amazing when the sun just drops behind them. And one night…Well, it was just so beautiful!”

Hannah glanced at Sam. He looked at her but showed no signs of interest. “That’s an interesting story,” he said.

Hannah was ready to tell him about the encounter with the mountain lion, but decided to save her breath. Apparently farmer’s wives weren’t supposed to enjoy mountains or have wild adventures with mountain lions—just hay bales, cows, and wheat shocks.

“Well, I had better be going,” Sam announced, glancing at the clock. “We have to be up early to do the milking, and then the fall plowing starts right after the oats are shocked.”

So he would leave early. In a way Hannah was glad, but aloud she said, “You can’t stay any later?”

“Maybe next time, although I doubt it. I don’t like staying up too late.” Sam then cleared his throat, a slightly embarrassed smile crossing his face. Just to make sure, he said, “I guess there will be another time?”

“If you want to,” Hannah said, already knowing his answer.

“I do,” he said, and thankfully his mouth stayed shut. “Until next Sunday then. Maybe we can see each other on Sunday afternoon after a while?”

“Would you like that better?” Hannah asked.

“I think so,” Sam said. “Not always, maybe, but sometimes. I could take you over to our place on those Sundays.”

“But you do the chores then, don’t you?” she asked.

Sam nodded. “I could take you straight home from church, we could talk some in the afternoon, and you could help chore. I would take you back to the hymn sing, then.”

“Not every Sunday, though.”

“No,” Sam allowed, “not every Sunday.”

“Okay then. We’ll decide as we go along. Next Sunday at the hymn sing, right?”

“Right,” Sam said and disappeared out the door. The sound of his buggy wheels soon sounded on the gravel, and he was gone.

“My first date,” Hannah said aloud with a frown. “My first real, legal date, and I’m not dreaming. That’s good—just good, old, practical, sensible human living. That’s a good girl.”

She climbed the stairs slowly and went to her window before she climbed in bed. A momentary sadness passed over her at the thought of Jake somewhere all alone. Had he arrived back home safely? Did his parents accept him again? Had he already met someone to care for? She hoped he had.

“I am a new person now,” Hannah whispered. “It is a new and a better start. This will make me happy. I know it will.”

Thirty

“So how did your evening with Sam go?” Kathy asked the next morning.