A Hope for Hannah (2 page)

She had always thought she was the courageous one, the one who wanted adventure. After all, she had come out to Montana on her own that first summer. The mountains had fascinated her, drawn her in, and given her strength. But tonight those same mountains had turned on her and given her a bear for a gift—a
grizzly.
Even the stately pine trees, with their whispers that soothed her before, now seemed to talk of dark things she knew nothing about, things too awful to say out loud.

She turned in the bed, hoping she wouldn’t disturb Jake. She thought of his job on the logging crew, really a job of last resort. Yes, at first it was a blessing because they needed the income, but now it had become more and more of a burden. Jake didn’t complain, but the burden was apparent in the stoop of his shoulders when he came home at night. It revealed itself in his descriptions of how he operated the cutter, navigated the steep slopes, and worked with logs that rolled down the sides of the mountains. She also heard it in his descriptions of Mr. Wesley, his boss. She had met Mr. Wesley once when he had stopped by the house to interview Jake for the job. He operated the largest timber company in Libby, and his huge, burly form matched his position, nearly filling their cabin door that day. She had been too glad Jake had gotten the job to worry much about Mr. Wesley, but after he left she was glad she wouldn’t see him every day.

Hannah shivered again, feeling the sharp chill that seeped into the log house—the same one that seemed so wonderful in summer. Winter would come soon to this strange land, and neither she nor Jake had ever been through one here.

Hannah willed herself to stop thinking. Now she knew for certain. There had been something she wanted to tell Jake but had wanted to wait until she was sure. Now on this night—the night the bear came—she was certain. The strangeness puzzled her. How could a bear’s unexpected visit and this wonderful news have anything to do with each other?

Two

Hannah woke only a few hours later, just before dawn. She expected to be groggy after the night’s events and was surprised at how clearheaded she was.

Quietly she slid out of bed to avoid waking Jake. He could have his last few minutes of sleep uninterrupted. Hannah walked out to the large front window of the cabin, its metal frame outlined by the last of the moon. She stood in front of the window and looked toward the east where the sun would soon come up.

Jake had said windows were a problem in log cabins. He was surprised one this size hadn’t broken as the logs settled over the years. It was a blessing of the Lord—a sign perhaps—she had thought. It was one of the things that had persuaded her to accept Jake’s decision to buy this remote cabin.

The loneliness of the area had excited her at the time. But this morning it felt empty, a void needing to be filled. She looked for signs of the first sun ray above the Cabinet Mountains but found only stars, their brightness still undimmed.

As beautiful as it was here, for some reason a wave of homesickness for Indiana swept over her.
Indiana.
Home. There her mother would be up at this time, perhaps even earlier. She would be making soft noises in the kitchen as she prepared breakfast. There, Hannah too would be awakened, not do the waking as she soon would for Jake.

The responsibilities of the day pressed in on her. Jake’s breakfast needed to be made and later the last of the garden needed tending. Was this how life was or would be? A simple life with its demands, settled down to spurts of joy with Jake and the danger of bears lurking in the night?

One other bright thought hung on the horizon, not unlike that vigorous twinkling star above the highest peak of the mountain range. Her mother and father were coming to visit before communion Sunday. They would see aunt Betty, her mother’s sister, but Hannah knew the real reason they would be coming all those miles. They were coming to see her. Perhaps that was the cause of her sudden homesickness.

Maybe so, she decided, and if that was the case, her homesickness would soon go away. As for the grizzly’s visit last night, no doubt it was as Jake said—an experience that wouldn’t be repeated.

Hannah returned to the bedroom and gently shook Jake’s shoulder. “Time to get up,” she whispered.

He slowly opened his eyes. “You’re up already? A little early, isn’t it?”

“I just woke up. I couldn’t sleep any longer. Probably the bear last night,” she suggested as an explanation.

“Yeah, maybe,” he agreed, sitting up. “There was a bear last night, wasn’t there?”

“Yes, there certainly was.”

“It was just passing through. Bears don’t hang around for very long in this area,” he said, apparently feeling the need to repeat his prediction from last night. “Is it looking like rain?”

“Not that I could tell,” Hannah said.

“Mr. Wesley thought we might be in for a storm. Hopefully not. I really can’t lose the wages.”

“Are we short on money?” Hannah asked, a little surprised by the comment. The last time she had checked their bank account, it seemed fine.

“It’s fine now,” Jake said, “but winter’s coming soon enough. There won’t be as much work for me then, and the mortgage payment is a burden.”

“Then you better get to work,” Hannah said. “I’ll get breakfast started.” She impulsively reached out and ran her hand through Jake’s hair. He was cute in the morning even when he talked about bothersome things like bears and his concerns about the money.

Jake smiled sheepishly, and Hannah kissed his forehead and turned to the kitchen. With a glance around, Hannah saw she needed to make a quick trip outside to the little springhouse, which stood about fifty feet from the cabin and served as their refrigerator. Jake had repaired the ramshackle little building soon after they moved in after the wedding.

With quick steps in the cool air, Hannah unlatched the door and took a handful of eggs from the wooden pine shelves. On her return she felt the chill of the morning air sink in deeper and wondered why she hadn’t noticed the cold earlier. It was never this cold quite so soon back in Indiana.

Hannah thought about Jake’s fear over the growing scarcity of work. Her dad had always taken care of money problems when she was growing up. Her mom had rarely spoken of money. Now she realized part of being married was dealing with money. She would have to do her part and help Jake out when she could. As hard as he worked for what seemed like meager wages, he deserved that much out of her.

Yet, wouldn’t God take care of them no matter what happened? Jake would find work somehow, and if there wasn’t work, they could skimp on the money they had. She had canned vegetables from the garden last summer, and there were still some potatoes and carrots in the ground, ready to be harvested. That would all help. And they could always save more, couldn’t they? Most important of all, they loved each other. Surely that would see them through anything.

Hannah bent over her woodstove and lifted the lid to start the fire. Back home in Indiana, they had gas that lit the oven and burners at the turn of a knob. They were not, of course, like the electric ones the
Englishers
used, but they were certainly better than what she had here. Yet she was happy. Jake had purchased the old woodstove secondhand in Libby at a price they could afford. Gas would be more expensive. “Wood was cheap,” Jake had said, and she agreed.

Jake kept a box of kindling wood in the corner of the kitchen. Hannah took a few pieces and assembled them just so in the stove—something she had learned by trial and error. She was now able to get a flame lit rather quickly. By the time Jake came into the kitchen minutes later, Hannah had the frying pan warmed and ready to cook.

“I’ll take three eggs this morning,” Jake said.

“Hungry are we?” Hannah asked, taking notice of the departure from his usual two.

“It’s the bear’s fault,” he said, grinning.

Sometimes Hannah made him oatmeal, but Jake preferred his store-bought cornflakes. Hannah winced at the price when she made the purchase at the IGA in Libby but said nothing to Jake. If he wanted corn flakes, he should have them. The few times Hannah had gone with her mother to make the Saturday shopping trip into Nappanee, paying the bill had not been on her mind. Now things had changed.

Hannah finished the eggs and then joined Jake at the table. Together they paused in silence with bowed heads. Jake didn’t pray out loud yet, which was fine with Hannah. That would come in time.

“Mom and Dad are coming the week before communion Sunday,” Hannah reminded him.

He nodded, his mind apparently elsewhere. Hannah turned to look outside. The first ray of sun was sending streaks of light over the Cabinet Mountains. The glory of the sight, as the colors broke through, prompted her to abandon her plate and walk to the window.

“I’m not tired of it yet,” she whispered more to herself than to Jake. Such sunrises did things for her, deep down things that drew her heart closer to God.

“It is beautiful,” Jake agreed from the breakfast table. “It’s even nicer when you’re standing on the other side of the mountain looking east.” Hannah knew he had often been able to enjoy that eastward view when he had worked as a fire spotter for the Forest Service before they were married.

Jake reached for the cornflake box.

Hannah, still in awe of the morning sight outside, knew there would be no better time than now to share her news. Without fanfare she simply said, “Jake, we’re going to have a baby.” Her heart beat rapidly as she watched Jake’s face. He looked almost as beautiful as the sunrise, and now the news seemed to make him all the more the man she wanted to love the rest of her life.

The cornflakes box stopped in midair, a few flakes falling out and landing softly in his bowl. “You are?” He said, pausing and looking intently at her.

“Yes,” she said, knowing her smile lit up her face. “
We
are.”

“A
baby,”
Jake said as he rose to his feet. He swept her up in his arms, and she laughed softly.

“Are you
sure?”

“Yes,” she said, “very sure.”

For a moment neither of them said anything.

Finally Hannah said, “Just think, Jake, you will be a father.”

“Yes,” he said with a sudden soberness. “That comes with a great responsibility to raise the child right.”

“But you want that responsibility, don’t you? You
are
happy?” she asked.

“Oh, yes! But am I fit to be a father, that’s the question.”

“Yes, of course, you are. You’ll make a great father.” Then another thought occurred to her. “Is it the money?”

He didn’t seem to flinch at the question. Rather he seemed to ponder long before he answered.

“Maybe partly. I know we don’t have much, but many young parents are like that. I don’t think a baby makes it worse. No,” he said, shaking his head, “I worry about myself, I guess. It will be a heavy responsibility. I just didn’t think it would happen this soon.”

“Well, you’re married,” she said, her voice a tease. “What did you expect?”

He grinned. “I guess I was just thinking of you.” Then another thought occurred to him. “Is there a midwife close by?”

“I’ll have to ask Elizabeth. She’ll know what the other women do.”

“The other women,” he said. He sat back down and poured milk onto his cornflakes. “Hannah, you really don’t have any other women to talk to about this, do you?”

“Well, there’s aunt Betty. And there are a couple of women in the church.”

“But if your mother were here or—”

“Or if we were there?” Hannah finished his sentence. “Jake, have you ever thought of moving back East?” she asked, the memory of the earlier wave of homesickness returning to her. “With your work the way it is—the uncertainty and all—Dad could probably get you a job at the trailer factory pretty easily.”

“I don’t think so,” he said, shaking his head. “I like it here.”

“Well, I do too,” she replied, agreeing, “but that bear last night was a little scary. Do you think we can make it here—on the logging income—with the baby coming?”

“I don’t really know. This is all so new. A baby and all. But you’d want to move? You’d want to leave this community,” he said, looking at her with a surprised expression, “and this country? Who wants to go back and live where it’s flat?”

Hannah didn’t know exactly how she felt. She loved the mountains too. But there were practical considerations to think about. And now there was the baby. True, she did miss her mother right now. “I’m just thinking that if we were to go back, it would be best to do it soon, well before the baby comes so we have time to get settled in.”

Jake said nothing, but Hannah could tell he was unconvinced.

“We’ve never lived through a winter here either,” she continued. “You could be out of work for a long time. What would we do? And the bear last night—maybe that was a sign to us.”

This brought a chuckle, and Jake’s spoon stopped halfway to his mouth. “Surely you’ve learned your lesson about believing in signs, haven’t you?”

“I suppose,” she said and couldn’t keep from smiling too.

“A ‘sign’ almost got you married to that…Sam boy.”