27

Barely aware of her surroundings, Hannah watched Paul back into the road, squealing his tires as he sped off. He was gone. It was over. The only thing she’d wanted out of life had just left, hating her. The cold, wet ground seeped through her clothing, making her shiver. The sobs jolting her body tore through the silence of the damp night air.

A pair of gentle hands covered Hannah’s shoulders, helping her rise to her feet. “Sh, Liewi. It’ll be okay. It’ll all be okay.” Mary steadied her as they walked back toward the Daadi Haus.

Human silhouettes formed in the driveway as Mary and Hannah made their way down the hill. Through her blurred vision, Hannah saw Mary’s parents and two of her brothers. She had no idea how much they’d seen or heard. But what did it matter now? Paul knew the truth, and he’d made his choice. He thought she was a liar, and he’d left her. She knew he would never return.

A cool cloth pressed against Hannah’s brow. She stirred, wondering how long she’d slept once she could weep no longer. Her pain had poured out as she huddled in the bed like a child, crying for hours. Each time she roused for a few moments, Mary had whispered reassuring words to her.

Drawing a deep breath, Hannah pulled her aching body to a sitting position. She hurt all over: her back, thighs, head, and across her stomach. Leaning back, Hannah rested against the headboard, waiting for some of the pains to subside. Her eyes closed; she took a few deep breaths. “What’s the time?”

“It’s ten in the morning.”

The baby shifted. On impulse, Hannah reached for Mary’s hand and placed it on her stomach.

Mary gasped. “That’s so amazing.”

Hannah hadn’t ever thought so before, but maybe Mary was right. She opened her eyes and realized she still had on her day clothes from yesterday. The skirts were covered in mud, and to her horror she remembered kneeling on the ground begging Paul not to leave her. She groaned. A lot of good her begging had done.

Mary shifted her hand as the baby moved, following the slow, easy motion across Hannah’s belly. “It’s a Bobbeli, Hannah. A real Bobbeli.”

It kicked and Mary jumped. She laughed, but Hannah couldn’t find any humor in the incident. It was a real baby, all right. One that belonged to a creep.

Mary placed the cloth from Hannah’s brow in the bowl and walked to the dresser, where she set the basin down.

Hannah put her feet on the floor, rubbing her rounded, aching sides.

“I’ll do the laundry; you rest.” Picking up Hannah’s pair of mud-caked stockings, Mary gave an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “Mamm set the tub of dirty clothes on the back porch. But my aunt gave birth to her twins during the night. My whole family left for Ohio before sunrise, and they’ll be gone for the week to help my aunt with her young brood and the newborns. They left us a key to the phone shanty, saying they’d be calling some here and there.” Mary dunked the stockings into the bowl of water, dipping them up and down.

Twins. The word conjured up images of Hannah’s aunt who had been shunned. It was hard to imagine what Zabeth’s life must be like after all these years without any family around her. Hannah wondered if Zabeth regretted doing whatever it was she did that caused her to be put under the ban.

Hannah dismissed those thoughts and gazed at Mary. “It’s not laundry day, is it?”

“No, but we didn’t do laundry Monday. We talked and cried.”

Hannah supposed it was a good thing she’d told Mary everything a few days ago, or last night would have been even worse, if that were possible.

She rose. The room spun, and she grabbed the headboard to steady herself. “I need to take a shower.”

Mary came to her. When Hannah turned around, Mary untied and unpinned her pinafore. “I don’t think my family heard much of anything last night. If they had, they wouldn’t have kept their plans and gone to visit my aunt. Daed said something about us not milling about the property at night while they’re gone.”

“It doesn’t matter what they heard, not anymore.” But Hannah knew it did. In a world where conforming was paramount, her parents could pay a high price for Hannah’s defiance of the Old Ways. If the bishop decided she had to do things a certain way, and she refused, he could do little to her. But his power over her parents was another matter. They wouldn’t be shunned, but they’d be ostracized, however politely.

“Pacifists,” Hannah mumbled. “Passive aggressive is more accurate.”

Brushing wisps of hair off Hannah’s neck, Mary whispered, “My family didn’t come outside until they heard Paul’s tires squeal.”

It took a few moments for Mary’s words to sink in. Hannah slid her apron off and faced Mary. “Then they don’t know about…” She touched her protruding stomach.

Mary laid her hand on Hannah’s belly. “They don’t know.” Mary’s warm, gentle hand caressed Hannah’s stomach, and her face crumpled with sympathy. “We could surround the little thing with love, no?”

As Mary spoke the words, the infant fluttered in a new way, as if it had been waiting to hear a caring word, causing Hannah’s soul to stir with an inkling of an emotion that had never been a part of her before. Hannah felt sorry for the tiny being. It seemed so desperate to be loved.

As she headed for the shower, Hannah noticed their half-sewn “Past and Future” quilt on the side table. The women of Owl’s Perch had donated so many scraps of material for the future side of the quilt, there’d been plenty left over to make baby blankets for the children Luke and Mary would have. Running her fingers across the basting that held the two sides together, Hannah dismissed the pity she’d felt moments earlier. “No, I can’t love this child, but someone else can.”

Mary grabbed a clean apron and dress off a peg and passed them to Hannah. Taking the clean clothes, Hannah padded into the bathroom. A vision of the monster who had fathered the baby jolted Hannah, and she bristled against Mary’s suggestion.

Talking from the other room, Mary changed the topic. “You’ll miss our shower when you move back home.”

Tuning out Mary’s effort at general niceties, Hannah closed the bathroom door and leaned her forehead against it. She and Mary were long overdue for returning to normal life. But when the news of her pregnancy spread, she would no longer be welcomed at the Yoders’. And her father wasn’t going to let her move back home unless she set things right with the church leaders.

What am I going to do?

Her future with Paul was destroyed. The pain of that was so deep it hurt to breathe. She’d known all along if he knew the truth, it would end everything. Her best efforts at concealing the pregnancy had failed.

She finally moved to the tub and flicked on the water. The only thing left to do was to make plans for the baby. Hannah’s life was over, but a new life was growing inside her, preparing to embark on its own journey on this planet.

She sat on the side of the tub, moving her hands over her swollen stomach. The baby was still now, quieted for a nap, she supposed. Pulling the lever on the faucet, Hannah started the shower running. Amid all the heartache and embarrassment clinging to her, a new desire sprang forth. She eased to the bathroom door and listened. Mary had left the bedroom. Tiptoeing through the room to the dresser, Hannah kept her eye on the bedroom door. She opened the drawer with the stethoscope, wanting to hear the infant’s heartbeat. But she didn’t want Mary to see her. It was a private thing, something between a mother and her child.

As she grabbed the stethoscope, she shuddered. A mother?

Hurrying, she slid out of her dress, put the stethoscope in her ears, and began searching for a heartbeat. Unable to find it, she flicked the water off and listened again. After a minute of moving the stethoscope around, she heard a whooshing noise. That had to be it. It was rhythmic, like Mary’s heartbeat, but much faster.

Chills covered her. Like Mary’s heartbeat?

Oh, dear God, it’s a real baby.

She had known that, hadn’t she?

Listening to its blood flow through the tiny chambers of its heart, she had to admit the truth. She’d realized it was alive, but she’d wished over and over it wasn’t. She’d known it was growing and that it had the power to ruin her and Paul. But never, not once, had she had a suspicion that it was as precious as Mary’s heartbeat. She took the stethoscope out of her ears and dropped it on the floor.

Placing her hand over her belly again, the baby balled up under it, as if responding to its mother. Remorse entered Hannah’s heart. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

She took a deep breath and stepped into the shower. As the warm water soothed her taut, sore muscles, she tried to ignore the awful grief of losing Paul. She put her face under the showerhead and let the pelting water rinse away her tears. As she leaned against the shower wall, visions of Paul’s angry face haunted her. He’d had no mercy for her, only judgment.

God, help me, please.

An image of a tan-skinned, young Jewish girl, about Hannah’s age, formed a vision in her mind’s eye. That girl had been pregnant before she was married too. The picture lasted less than a second, but suddenly Hannah didn’t feel so alone. A sense that God had not abandoned her, and didn’t intend to, strengthened her.

This sense of God was a welcomed one, and it wasn’t completely new. She’d felt His closeness and acceptance after Luke had spewed his venom on her, before Matthew showed up at the Yoders’ barn back in October. But within a month she learned she was pregnant, and from there most thoughts of God were far from her as she desperately tried to hide her pregnancy from Paul. Oddly, God didn’t seem angry with her about it. He seemed more than willing to step in and comfort her. She propped her palms against the shower wall, muttering confessions of her weakness. Tears clouded her eyes, but they weren’t from sorrow or self-pity. She’d tapped into joy, unbelievable as that was. As the thoughts gave her courage, she knew what had to be done. This infant and she were connected. It didn’t belong to its father; it belonged to the Father. That’s who Hannah would pray the child would take after: its heavenly Father.

As she got out of the shower and dressed, her thoughts spun with snippets of hope. But all traces of good feelings aside, her reality hadn’t changed a bit. So now what? Pinning her wet hair into a bun, she searched for answers.

Although Mary wasn’t in the room with her, the memory of her soft voice filtered through Hannah’s soul. We could surround the little thing with love, no?

She ran her hand over her stomach. Suddenly another understanding poured into Hannah’s mind. Love—real, God kind of love—gave the infant worthiness, because in life each being was both worthy and unworthy at the same time. A tiny bolt of laughter ran through Hannah. “Yes, Mary. Yes, we can surround this baby with love.”

Mary listened without interrupting as Hannah paced the room, explaining her decision to keep the baby. Mary nodded. “We will cherish the babe because it is, simply because it is.”

Going from one end of the room to the other, Hannah voiced her thoughts. “I have no money and a baby on the way. How will we do this?”

“Ach, Hannah, you’ll have to get the support of your family and our community. I can see no other way. Our parents inherited their homes. Luke and I have a place because people donated money and their labor. You can’t provide for a baby on your own.”

A slow pain worked its way through Hannah’s back and around her abdomen. It intensified, and she grabbed the back of the couch, waiting for it to ease. When the discomfort stopped, she took a breath.

Mary held up her index finger, telling Hannah to wait. She dashed into the bedroom and came back holding Hannah’s Kapp in her hands. Mary had scrubbed it clean and, by the looks of it, had probably spent over an hour ironing it. “It’s time for this, no?” Mary held it out to her.

Hannah closed her eyes, feeling the weight of joining the church bear down on her. She placed her hands under her round belly and stared at the ever-growing ball before she moved to the window. As she watched the barren trees sway in the winds, she wondered if she’d always feel this trapped.

“Hannah, I see no other choice. Your father will not help you if you don’t come under the church’s leadership, and he won’t allow anyone else in the community to help you either…even if they would. Even my Daed is not going to allow us to remain close if your father is set against you.”

Hannah leaned her forehead against the cold window. “Oh God, help me.”

Mary placed her hand on Hannah’s shoulder. “He is helping you, but to take the help He’s provided, you must put this on.”

Hannah turned and studied the sheer Kapp.

“I’ll be behind you every step of the way.”

Mary was right; it was the only way. “Yes, it’s time to come under the leaders’ say. But there isn’t time to join the church before the baby is born.”

Mary cupped her hand under Hannah’s chin, tilting her face up. “The baby won’t know it was born before instruction classes began or that it was several months old before you finished and then joined the church. The people won’t tell, not once you’re baptized. They will forget those things that are behind.” Mary gave a sad but sweet smile. “And they won’t speak of them again.”

An undeniable need to settle the issue as soon as possible grew within Hannah. “I’ve dreamed for too long of a life that became impossible the moment I was attacked.” Hannah took the Kapp. “Maybe before.”

Mary wrapped Hannah in her arms. “Then we’ll do this together.”

Hannah hugged her, thankful for Mary and determined to be the kind of mother this child would be grateful for. “Make arrangements for the bishop, preachers, deacon, and Daed to all come here this afternoon, but I need to see Matthew first.”