A Hope for Hannah (3 page)

“That’s a little mean. You don’t have to rub it in,” she said defensively. “I was just trying to find the will of God. Sure, I wasn’t too good at it, but it turned out all right, didn’t it?”

“Yes, it did.” He looked directly into her eyes from across the table, and she reached for his hand under the table. “Plus I had my own troubles,” he added, “with or without signs.”

Hannah could see that it was best to say nothing more on the subject.

“You’ll be happy here,” Jake promised. “With the baby there will be plenty to do.”

Jake was finishing his last spoonful of cereal when they heard a vehicle pull up outside.

“Someone’s here,” Hannah said.

“Who could be here at this time of day?” Jake asked.

Three

Jake opened the door and offered a hearty “Good morning, Mr. Brunson” to their neighbor from just up the hill.

Hannah heard the sounds of a reply but couldn’t understand the words. What Mr. Brunson was doing out this early in the morning, she couldn’t imagine. He lived farther up on their narrow dirt road in a small two-story home built by Mr. Brunson himself some time before Jake and Hannah moved in.

“No log cabin for me,” he had told her once with a chuckle when she commented on how much she loved their little cabin. “I like Eastern living too well.” Why Mr. Brunson liked that kind of living while he stayed in Montana, Hannah had wondered, but the neighbor had never offered more information. He would often drive by in his beat-up Ford pickup and wave to her if she was outside. Sometimes he’d stop in for vegetables from her garden. Though she had offered the produce for free, he had insisted on paying. He paid her generously, more than she could have gotten anywhere else had she wanted to sell the produce.

“Please come in,” Jake said. “We were just finishing breakfast.”

“I wouldn’t want to disturb that,” Mr. Brunson said, stepping inside and removing his trademark John Deere cap as he ran his hand through his thin white hair. “Just thought I’d come down and see how you folks were doing this morning.”

“Fine, I guess,” Jake said. “We had a visitor last night, though. A bear. I figure it was just passing through. I don’t think there’s any danger.”

“It was a grizzly, wasn’t it,” Mr. Brunson said knowingly.

“I think so,” Jake said. “We went outside after we heard noises. It looked like it had a hump on its back like grizzlies have.”

“That’s what I thought. I didn’t get that good of a look, but it was big, that’s for sure. One of my hogs is gone, and I’m sure the bear got it. I was just hoping it hadn’t done any damage down here.”

At the talk of the bear, Hannah got up to join the two men.

“Good morning,” Mr. Brunson said.

“Good morning,” she returned. “That bear sniffed around our bedroom wall. You don’t suppose it will come back?”

“If my hog tasted good, which I’m sure it did,” Mr. Brunson said with a laugh, “it wouldn’t surprise me if it did. I’m going down to talk with the game warden first thing.”

“Will they do something?” Jake asked. “Grizzlies usually don’t come this far down. At least that’s what the locals said.”

“I haven’t been local long enough to know.” Mr. Brunson’s face was grim again. “I just don’t like bears walking around my backyard and picking up my pigs.”

“Did you find the hog’s remains?” Jake asked. “If you found the kill, the game official would have to do something about it, which would solve our problem of the bear coming back.”

“I found what was left of it up in the woods, but don’t count on the game warden doing anything about it,” Mr. Brunson said.

“Well, enough about that bear,” Hannah said with a shiver. “You haven’t had breakfast yet, have you, Mr. Brunson?”

“No, I haven’t had time. Too many bear troubles,” Mr. Brunson said, chuckling.

“Come on in and sit down, then,” Hannah said. “The stove is still warm. I’ll fix you some eggs and toast.”

“Oh, I couldn’t be a bother. Really,” Mr. Brunson was quick to say and moved toward the front door.

“We insist,” Jake said. “Hannah is good at frying up eggs.”

“I would guess so,” Mr. Brunson said as he followed Jake to the kitchen and sat down in the chair he was offered.

Hannah stirred the fire, brought the flame to a hot burn, and placed the still warm pan back on the burner. She wondered whether she could add something else to the breakfast menu. There was sausage in the springhouse. Should she get a piece for Mr. Brunson to eat with his eggs?

Hannah decided that she should and that Jake wouldn’t mind. “I’ll be right back,” she said, leaving Jake and Mr. Brunson talking about the best way to get the game officials to take action on the grizzly.

She took a knife and plate with her to the springhouse, found the sausage, and cut a piece off, adding it to her plate. From the boneless ham, she cut enough off for Jake’s lunch sandwich.

Back in the house, Jake was up, pacing in front of the counter and busy preparing his lunch, something she usually did for him.

“I’ll help you in just a bit,” she told him as he looked for something in the cupboards.

“The cheese,” he said.

“Third drawer down,” she said, “on the left. I keep a small piece there.”

The crinkle of plastic told her he had found it as she stood at the stove, browning the sausage in the hot pan. She then cracked the eggs and let them slip into the pan next to the sausage.

“I’m sorry about this,” Mr. Brunson commented. “You really didn’t have to fix me breakfast.”

“I’m glad to. It’s no problem,” Hannah assured him. She kept an eye on the crackling pan while she gave Jake a hand with his ham sandwich and made sure he saw the tomato and knife she slipped into the lunch bucket. It surprised her to learn how much men could miss and never see.

“Put a slice of tomato on it before you eat it,” she whispered.

He nodded and grinned. They had already had the conversation before.

“Well, I really have to go,” Jake said as he snapped his lunch bucket shut and saw that Hannah’s attention had returned to the breakfast pan. “My ride’s due soon.”

“You do get out early,” Mr. Brunson commented. “You like logging, Jake?”

“It’s work,” Jake admitted grudgingly. “I liked my forestry job much better.”

“Why aren’t you doing it, then?” Mr. Brunson asked.

“For one thing, it’s too far to drive every day. Plus you have to live up in the cabin, and I don’t think they take married couples.”

“No, I don’t think they do,” Mr. Brunson agreed.

“Breakfast,” Hannah announced, setting the plate of eggs and sausage in front of Mr. Brunson. Moments before, she had toasted a piece of bread freehand over the fire.

Mr. Brunson didn’t fail to notice the results. “Right nice bread toasting there. I’ll have to learn to do that myself.”

“It doesn’t work very well on electric stoves,” Hannah said, though she was not sure what kind of appliances Mr. Brunson had.

“I have gas,” he said, grinning. “Think it would taste the same?”

“That’s how we always toasted our bread at home. It tastes just the same,” Hannah said, glad Mr. Brunson approved. There had been times when she had failed miserably, and the bread had turned to near cinder.

“I’m gone.” Jake stood in the kitchen door with his lunch pail. “See you tonight, dear.”

“Be careful,” Hannah said. She would have kissed him, but Mr. Brunson was there.

“Thanks for asking me to breakfast,” Mr. Brunson said, grinning broadly, his fork poised above his plate and ready to dig in.

“You’re welcome,” Jake said, already at the open front door. The latch fell into place behind him after he stepped outside.

Hannah sat down at the kitchen table as Mr. Brunson began to eat without prayer. Her astonishment must have shown because he stopped, took a look at her face, and said sheepishly, “I’m sorry. I guess I’ve been uncivilized too long.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” she said quickly, embarrassed to have been so obviously shocked. The surprise was just so sudden.

“I used to pray,” Mr. Brunson said. “I just needed a reminder.” He paused with bowed head, his lips moving slowly. He gave her a crooked smile when he was done.

“How long have you lived here?” Hannah asked in an attempt to put him at ease.

“Not long. A couple of years,” he said.

“From the East?” she asked.

“Yep—Boston. Big city. I needed some country, I guess.”

“My mom and dad are coming to visit soon,” she volunteered, leading up to a question that had bothered her. “I never see any visitors at your place.”

“I guess you don’t,” he said and ran his hand over his head. “I don’t have many relatives to come out and visit me.”

As he finished his eggs, Hannah noticed the sausage was already gone. She wished she had cooked him two pieces.

“I’m an old man,” Mr. Brunson offered, interrupting her thoughts.

“Surely you have family,” she said, her voice confident. Everyone had family. “They never come to visit?”

“One brother,” he said. “He lives back East. He’s about as old as I am. Doubt if he wants to travel much.”

“No wife?” she asked. “Surely you married.” She considered she was being too bold, but the question was out before she could take it back.

“Well,” he began, keeping his eyes on the now empty breakfast plate, “my brother is married. He has two children, but they are in business. They don’t have much interest in me or Montana.” Mr. Brunson gave her a wry smile.

Referring to the brother’s children and observing something in the faraway and pained look in his eyes, she asked, “Boy? Girl?”

“Two…I mean, one each,” he said. “One boy, one girl.”

“Are your parents gone?” she asked as she got up and took his plate to the sink.

“I’m pretty old,” Mr. Brunson said as he laughed. “They died a long time ago. I was young—still in my twenties. Mom followed a year after Dad. They were great people.”

“I’m sure they were,” Hannah said, touched by Mr. Brunson’s emotion. “I wouldn’t know what to do with both my parents gone.”

“I suppose not,” Mr. Brunson agreed. “Just be thankful for what you have while you have it. It could all be gone so quickly.” Something in his voice made Hannah want to ask more, but she had already pried too much. She simply said, “God has been good to us. That’s what Dad always says.”

“He’s a wise man,” Mr. Brunson said. “Now, thanks for the breakfast. I must be going. Tell Jake his wife is a great cook.”

“You’re welcome,” Hannah said, glad for the praise. Then she said, “Mr. Brunson, maybe you could come for supper some night when Mom and Dad are here.”

“Oh,” he said, seeming genuinely surprised, “I wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

“You wouldn’t be,” she assured him. “Dad would enjoy meeting you.”

“Well,” he answered, pausing slightly. With a smile he continued and said, “Maybe I will.”

“I’ll send Jake up, then—when I know which night. If you can’t come that night, maybe some other.”

Mr. Brunson found his John Deere cap by the front door and fumbled slightly as he put it on. Hannah glanced up and noticed there was the hint of moisture in his eyes as he left.

Hannah walked back to the kitchen and began to wash the breakfast plates. Out the window, the solid light of the risen sun was showcasing the slopes of the Cabinet Mountains.

Four

Hannah began the work she had planned for the day. She started with the ears of corn that needed to be harvested from the garden and carried to the front yard. She estimated how much corn she could can that day and plucked enough ears for what she hoped would do the job.

She tried to remember how her mother knew the right amount and wished she could consult her now, but that wasn’t possible. There was aunt Betty, but Hannah discarded that thought quickly. It was simply not practical because of the distance involved and the time such a buggy trip would take. No, she was on her own, and she’d just have to figure it out by herself.

After adding wood to the kitchen stove, Hannah began husking the corn in the yard. She considered how difficult managing a wood stove could be compared to the gas range she was used to at home. But this was her home now, and she realized Montana was rougher than Indiana. Hannah was determined to make the best of things and knew being with Jake was worth whatever extra effort she’d have to make.