A Dream for Hannah (20 page)

Hannah held out her hand, a big smile on her face.

Betty wished with all her heart she knew which was which, but she did not. The result was that she had to look, and when she did Hannah also saw.

“Oh,” Hannah said, “I have two letters? Who is the other one from?”

Betty looked at her with a sorrowful expression. “I think you probably know.”

Hannah’s face only showed confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You had been seeing someone secretly, and your mom doesn’t like it.”

Hannah’s face paled. “Did Mom tell you?”

“No,” Betty said, “I guessed.”

“You guessed? That’s not possible.”

“Yes, I did. Look at that letter. Isn’t that the handwriting of a boy? A clumsy one, I must admit, but most boys are clumsy, especially when they’re in love. Now I may be a dumb goose, but I can figure that much out. I can also guess that’s why you’re really out here. Your mom wants to get you away from someone of whom she doesn’t approve. Now isn’t that right? That’s why you weren’t interested in any boys at church yesterday.”

Hannah’s mouth fell open.

“I’m right, am I not?” Betty asked, her voice triumphant. “Now the question is how can I help your mother out? I thought of hiding the letter, but you didn’t give me a chance.”

“Ah,” Hannah cleared her throat and answered, “I can’t really tell you why I’m out here. There is a reason, but it’s best kept quiet. If Mom ever tells you, then that’s okay. But until then, I can’t say. And, as far as this letter being from a boy, I have no idea…Well, yes, I do have an idea. It’s probably from Sam.” Hannah looked more closely at the letter, “Yes, that’s who it’s from.”

“From Sam?” Now Betty was confused. “He likes you?”

“I think so,” Hannah said, numbly.

“So that is why you’re out here,” Betty affirmed and now quickly reversed her opinion. “It’s you that wants to get away from Sam, and your mother wants you to take him.”

“No, it’s not like that,” Hannah said.

Betty had no plans to be wrong twice in a row. And she would most certainly side with her sister. An inspiration came to her.

“Look at your letter, and see if I’m not right,” Betty said.

“Which one? Sam’s?” Hannah asked. “What will that prove?”

“No, your mother’s.”

“What will that show?”

“Just open it.” Betty put all her eggs into this basket, her lips firmly pressed together. She had to be right.

Hannah slowly opened the letter and read out loud, “Dear Hannah, we are all missing you. Our weather is nice and sunny.”

Betty interrupted her and said, “Keep reading. There must be something about your Sam.”

Hannah scanned the page and then turned it over and read, “Who do you think I saw the day after you left?”

Betty’s face had a big smile on it. Hannah kept reading, “It was Sam. He looked so sorrowful when he asked for your address that I gave it to him. If he writes, at least send him one letter back.”

“See?” Betty was giddy. “There it is. Your mother wants you to see him. I knew it.”

“I don’t think it means what you think it does,” Hannah protested.

“So what does it mean, then?” Betty challenged her.

“He’s got a crush on me. That’s all. I don’t like him. Not in the least.”

“But you’re trying to get away from him, right?”

“No,” Hannah said, “that’s not why I’m here.”

Betty held up her hand. “Hannah, child, I know how it is. You don’t have to tell me. It’s okay. But I think you really should consider this young man. If your mother likes him enough to give him your address, then I’m all for it.” Betty was greatly encouraged by her obvious deductions and continued. “I’m guessing you liked him in school,” she proclaimed in another stroke of genius.

“Yes,” Hannah said, angry now, “but that was when I was much younger!”

“My, my,” Betty said, “such an outburst! You do have it bad. I really think you ought to consider what your mother wants. Parents often know what’s best for their children.”

“Look, it’s not what you think,” Hannah said, trying to calm herself.

“Just remember,” Betty said, “consider your mother’s wishes.”

Before Hannah could speak again, the first riders returned on the path.

“Now I have work to do,” Betty said, “and you do too.”

With that Betty left Hannah standing in the middle of the yard while she bustled toward the house.

Hannah watched her go and then walked toward the riders and took their horses from them as they dismounted.

“Wonderful ride!” the lady gushed. “Your horses are so well behaved.”

“We try to keep them so,” Hannah said with a smile as she wished humans were as well behaved.

The man produced his billfold and gave Hannah a generous tip.

“Thank you,” she said, “but you don’t have to do that.”

“Oh, it was worth it,” the lady said and then took the man’s hand as they turned and walked to their car.

Hannah puzzled all day about whether to tell Betty about Peter, the real reason why she was in Montana. Perhaps Betty needed to know. In the end, Hannah decided against it. Things were best left alone. But if her mom ever wished to share the news with Betty, that would be okay.

In the meantime, there was the letter from Sam to deal with. She still hadn’t opened the envelope. The last riders of the day arrived at three thirty, and when they returned an hour later, Hannah had a great urge to take a ride, especially as she looked at Prince. He was almost as nice as Honey. She stroked his neck and then turned to go into the house.

She found Betty in the kitchen and asked, “Will you come riding with me? I haven’t had a chance yet, and the horses still have energy left.”

“No, I’m afraid not, dear,” Betty said. “I never was much of a rider.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing. It’s never too late to start.”

Betty laughed. “That’s easy for you to say. Just don’t stay out too late and stay on the trail.”

Hannah took off at a run toward the barn. She led Mandy inside, unsaddled her, and led her through the gate to the pasture. Prince neighed to join her.

“Now, now,” Hannah told him when she got back out, “you and I are going for a ride. Isn’t that going to be fun?”

He jerked his head up and down as if in agreement with her.

Hannah swung up and onto Prince. She led him up the trail and into the wooded hills. The beauty of it overwhelmed her again. Away from the buildings, the land rose to reveal the town in the distance and behind that the Cabinet Mountains. To the north were more mountains surrounding her with their vast ruggedness.

Already well into late spring, they were no longer snowcapped. Summer had almost come, even to this northwest corner of Montana.

Hannah came down to a wide river, the Kootenai Betty had said, and pulled Prince to a stop. Here was the source of the sound of rushing water that occasionally reached her ears when she was at the barn. By Eastern standards, it was a huge river. The hardy pines that grew everywhere descended the riverbank, in some places right up to the edge of the water. The water rippled past her with vigor and seemed to be in a great hurry to get where it was going. Steve had said the headwaters were in Canada. Hannah wondered how such a thing was possible. Water flowed in front of her that had begun as a small trickle in the mountains of Canada, from a mysterious place she had never been. Now it was here, and it went on from here to unknown places, propelled by a power beyond itself.

She patted Prince on the neck and leaned into his mane. The smell of horse soothed her mind. “Well, what do you think, old boy?” she asked him out loud.

He lifted his head toward the river and neighed sharply.

“Do you have friends around here?” she asked him and laughed.

He jerked his head back and forth and arched his neck.

They continued on, and before long the trail opened up to reveal a flat plateau along the bank. Although the rock-strewn riverbank was steep, where the foothill started again it was flat. The land was level for a long stretch into the distance. “Ah,” she exclaimed, “let’s go, Prince!”

He seemed to understand as she gave him his head. Hannah bent low on his neck to avoid the wind and then rose in the stirrups and rode with complete abandonment. Prince’s hooves pounded on the trail, his stride smooth as he galloped in great bounds.

She shouted aloud in sheer joy, her heart opening itself wide. Out here it seemed as if there was no evil anywhere that could touch her. For one glorious moment, she could forget that anything or anyone else existed besides her and Prince and this wonderful world.

Hannah drew Prince in and laughed until the sound of her voice made her remember that there were indeed problems that needed to be faced, and this might be the exact place to start. The letter from Sam had still not been opened.

“Well,” she told Prince, her voice still ringing with happiness, “that was very good. Now let’s just stand here and let me look at some of my troubles.”

Hannah pulled the letter out of her pocket. She shook the paper so that the contents slid to one end. For a moment she thought,
Why not just throw the thing away without reading it? Why spoil this joy?

Prince stretched his neck out toward the ground and blew his nose.

“See,” she told him, “that’s what you would do, wouldn’t you?”

But what would her mom want her to do? She had given Sam her address. Did she also think it was a good idea that Sam wrote? Betty was sure Kathy did, but was it really true?

Hannah could ask, she supposed, but that didn’t help for now. Besides, asking would be foolish. Her mom might not want to tell lest it influence Hannah’s decision. That would be like her mom, which also meant that Betty could be right. Hannah had never asked her mom how she felt about Sam. It was a horrible thought, but what if her mother
did
approve of Sam?

Hannah wished she could forget the whole thing, but boys somehow just didn’t seem to go away. She had to admit it would be wonderful to be loved, but in the right way this time—not like with Peter and that dream. Love needed to be done the right way. But what was the right way? Her parents’ way? Someone they approved of? That was an even scarier thought. Could it be that perhaps Sam should be examined closer, open mouth and all—especially if her mother thought so? She laughed out loud at the thought. Out here, seated on Prince, with the mountains around her, Sam’s open mouth did not seem so serious. She supposed he kept it shut sometimes.

“Maybe,” she said, chuckling to Prince, “but I don’t know.” Prince twitched his ear as if a fly had landed on it, but a glance around didn’t reveal any flies.

With a sigh Hannah tore open one end of the envelope.

Eighteen

The sun had set behind the Cabinet Mountains. Jake sat in his cabin with his meager supper of canned bean soup. He desired greatly the taste of his mother’s home-baked cooking. She would be appalled if she could see what he was eating now. Jake grinned at the thought.

The day had seen its share of visitors come past his outpost. Most of them were younger or middle-aged hikers. Occasionally a vehicle made the climb to his cabin with an older couple who simply wanted to enjoy the view. He made time for all of them and invited them to climb the tower if they wished.

Those had been his instructions. “We are employees of the public, and so show them every courtesy,” he had been told. “Only in the event of a crisis and the tower is needed, is it to be off limits to the public.”

Today there had been no fires to report, but Jake was still tired. He wasn’t sure if it was from all the people who had come by or just a result of all his recent troubled thoughts. He stretched his legs out on the kitchen chair. Before him was the notepad on which he intended to write to his parents again. It was high time he did, plus there was good news to report. He had found and visited an Amish church.

Pushing his fatigue aside, he started.

Dear Mom and Dad,

Greetings in the name of Christ our Savior. I am happy to report that I have found an Amish church, and I attended
there on Sunday. I spent the night at the bishop’s house. His name is Nisley. He knew my grandfather and took me in very well.

On Sunday morning, they even asked me to lead the praise song. They are just a small group but very friendly. I have plans to attend there at least every other Sunday. Hopefully this will be okay with Deacon Miller, if he should ask. You know what I mean.

The peanut butter tasted strange. Not that it was bad or anything. Maybe they don’t use the same syrup as back home. They have a bunch of boys in the young folks but not many youth activities.