A Dream for Hannah (37 page)

Kathy took another deep breath. “There was Peter…” she began and wrapped up minutes later with the funeral and their decision to send Hannah out West.

Betty could hardly believe what she was hearing.

Hannah was close to a fresh set of tears but just lamented, “Oh, my life is all messed up now—completely messed up!”

“I would say so,” Kathy agreed. “How are we going to get it all untangled? Now you’ve walked out at your own wedding. You know people are never going to forget that. What are we going to do?”

“I suppose this is all my fault—entirely my fault,” Betty said mostly to herself as if she was stuck on that one thought.

“I’m ruined,” Hannah cried. “No one will marry me now. I had planned to tell Jake about Sam…Now it’s too late forever.” She covered her face in her hands in total despair.

“So what do you think?” Kathy asked Betty. “Where do we go from here? The rest of the family will be home soon.”

“I’ve messed things up so badly. I don’t know,” Betty admitted. “Maybe Hannah should come back out West with me. We could leave tomorrow. We can tell people she is going with me to get well out there, which she is, of course. That will make sense to everyone, and with a little time, this thing will blow over.”

“It won’t blow over for me,” Hannah muttered, “not ever.”

Kathy ignored Hannah and spoke to Betty, “That does make sense. Let me tell Roy about it when he comes home, and we’ll go from there. For now, Hannah, go up to your room, get out of that dress, and start packing as if you’re going. I’ll bring your supper up. You can say goodbye to your sisters in the morning.”

Hannah nodded, her face glum, her steps hollow on the stairs.

Kathy recounted the entire story to Roy that evening, and Betty filled in the details Kathy left out.

“I’ve not heard of anything so stupid in a long time!” he proclaimed. “I guess now we have to see how things can be straightened out.”

“Can Hannah go with Betty, then?” Kathy asked.

“Jah,”
Roy allowed a moment later, “but she’s paying for her next wedding herself.”

“Just be thankful if there is another one,” Kathy said.

“Oh, there will be one,” he said. “You can count on that.”

“That will take God’s help,” Kathy said.

Roy nodded. Apparently his anger had run its course.

The whine of the Greyhound bus got on Hannah’s nerves again. She wished a thousand times she could be somewhere else. At least Montana was at the end of this noise. In between her occasional outbursts of tears and Betty’s silence, Hannah comforted herself. Her normally talkative aunt was saying little, but at least there hadn’t been further lectures.

Somewhere on the plains of Nebraska, Hannah finally got up the nerve to ask, “How did I go so wrong? I was just trying to stop dreaming and do the right thing.”

Betty continued to gaze out the window until Hannah was sure there would be no answer.
She’s mad,
Hannah thought.
The whole world hates me now, and I’ve lost any hope of love
—
ever.

Betty shifted on her seat and turned from the window toward Hannah. “It’s this way,” she finally said. “Dreams are just to show us the way, to give us courage when the road gets hard, and to give us hope when we find the thorns on the rosebush. Dreams are neither evil nor to be rejected.”

“But I did reject my dream,” Hannah said, tears filling her eyes again, “and can I ever trust dreams again?”

“Yes, you can open your heart again,” Betty said. “Don’t keep on with what is wrong. Look ahead, not behind.”

“But it hurts.” Hannah stifled a sob.

“I know,” Betty said, “but that hurt is where God will walk with you.”

Hannah couldn’t find her voice and simply let the tears flow.

They switched buses in Sioux Falls at about five that evening. The new bus was a connecting bus, and some passengers were already aboard, their dim silhouettes visible through the high windows.

Betty led the way onto the bus. Hannah followed close behind, her mind elsewhere. Betty stopped abruptly midway back, and Hannah almost bumped into her.

“Jake!” Betty exclaimed. “Jake Byler, what are you doing here?”

Jake stared at them, his face dark and expressionless. Hannah felt all the blood leave her body, her knees trembled, and she gripped the sides of the seats with both hands.

“I’ve left home again. Not sure where I’ll end up this time,” Jake said without emotion, remembering the hurt he had received from his attraction to Hannah. “Not that it should matter to you—or your niece.”

To Hannah’s great surprise, Betty moved toward the empty seat behind Jake, motioning Hannah in first. Hannah kept her eyes on the floor, unwilling to say anything.

“I suppose you have the right to feel that way,” Betty said, her voice surprisingly cheerful. “Who would have thought we’d meet you here like this? Now I have a chance to make things right, and I will start right here.”

Hannah was too frightened to make a sound.

A white-haired older lady seated in front of Jake, her head visible when she turned toward the window, caught Hannah’s attention. Behind them was a younger couple with sandwiches they must have purchased during the stopover. Surely Betty would know enough to speak in Pennsylvania Dutch, whatever she planned to say.

Betty launched into her side of the entire story in her native tongue. Hannah listened, shocked herself at how clumsy she had been. Jake would never forgive her no matter what Betty said.

Betty concluded with Hannah’s botched wedding and then folded her hands. “So, that’s my story.”

Jake was silent, taking it all in. There was still hurt in his eyes, but he seemed to soften a bit after hearing Betty’s story.

“Now it’s your turn, Hannah,” Betty said, turning to her niece.

Hannah froze, her blood like ice, but she knew it was now or never. With slow words she told Jake about Peter, his death, and why she had agreed to write to Sam. She told him how she had planned to tell him about Sam that evening the mountain lion had screamed at them. She explained how she took his departure as a sign from God that she was supposed to stop dreaming and marry Sam. And then she said, “I’m so sorry for how this has all turned out.”

Hannah was astonished to see an even softer glow in Jake’s eyes. Could he possibly have a heart that would understand—after such a story?

“I guess I have some things to say too,” he finally said. Then for the next twenty minutes, he told them his own story. “See, I have done some things I shouldn’t have. My bishop thinks I’m making a mistake by leaving again.”

When Jake was done, the older lady in front of him turned around in her seat and stuck her head around the corner. “Oh, that was the sweetest thing I have heard in a long time. You people sure make a mess of things, but it looks like God is looking out for you.”

Betty was aghast and said, “But we were speaking in German. How did you understand?”

“Ach,”
she said, chuckling,
“Ich bin Deutscher.
You were speaking some dialect, but I understood it. It’s such a wonderful story.”

“I see,” Betty said, seeming to recover herself rather quickly. Turning to Jake, she asked, “And now you’re wondering again, is that it? Still trying to get over the pain?”

“I guess that’s it,” Jake said, his face sheepish. “I have a thirty-day ticket. Maybe I would have stopped in Montana. If I do and if Bishop Nisley will give a good report, perhaps I can get back home before my bishop gets upset.”

“Especially if you have some news,” Betty said with a smile.

Jake grinned at her and nodded.

“What about it, Hannah?” he asked. “Can we start over—all fresh and new?”

Hannah looked at him, her eyes growing misty, her heart pounding hard. Could God—and Jake—really be giving her another chance at happiness, even after she had messed things up so badly?

“I think we can,” Hannah said through her tears. But now they were tears of happiness not sorrow.

“Oh,” Betty said, ecstatic, “is it too much too hope for—a wedding in Montana, perhaps? Maybe you’ll even
live
there!”

Jake and Hannah said nothing but simply looked at each other. Betty beamed and said, “Oh! This is really happening. I’m not dreaming.”

“Let’s not mention anything about dreaming right now,” Hannah said.

“That’s because we don’t have to,” Jake said. “We’re living it.”

“By God’s grace.
Jah,
by God’s grace we are,” Betty repeated herself.

“That’s right,” Jake agreed, still gazing at Hannah.

She simply nodded.

It was a moonless Indiana Sunday night and fifteen minutes after the hymn sing had been dismissed. Girls stood around the front door, watchful and ready for their rides. The group stiffened when Annie Bontrager walked out. Her brother’s buggy was not next in line—Sam Knepp’s was.

Annie stepped forward and one girl whispered, “So soon?” to the others. Another one answered with, “Someone’s sure in a hurry,” and the buzz began.

“Good evening,” Annie simply said to Sam as she gracefully hopped into the buggy, her dress not even brushing the buggy wheel.

“Good evening,” he responded, letting out the reins of his horse. They drove quickly out of the driveway in silence.

She gathered herself to say it, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. The quiet of the night gave her strength. No more was she the clumsy, blushing girl from her school days. Years of waiting and sorrow had tempered her soul. Now she would take the chance given to her and not let it slip away. Annie cleared her throat and said, “What Hannah did to you was not nice, Sam. You know that.”

Sam said nothing but held onto the reins as his horse pulled hard.

“I’m glad it happened, though,” she said into the darkness.

“Really, Annie?” he asked, and his voice trembled.

She said nothing for a long moment and then said “I think God has kept you. You don’t know how thankful I am for that. The day of the wedding was really a miracle for me—and maybe for us.”

No light penetrated the buggy at the moment, and nothing much could be seen, the darkness heavy around them. If there had been a little light, one could have seen that while his hands were still on the reins, Sam’s mouth hung wide open.