Page 2 of A Daddy for Hanna
The very thought of it broke her heart, and yet she still couldn’t stay.
Hanna wondered if any of her family members would whisper her name in secret while tucked under their covers at night like she did for her brother Eli.
The solitude she felt within her huge Amish community had always been her secret sorrow. She’d tried so hard to capture the sense of community her family and friends felt here, the genuine happiness she saw all around her, but it was no use.
After years of trying to force it, she’d finally realized it couldn’t be forced.
The screen door banged shut as she fled the house. The early August air was cool but promised a warm day. From the front porch, she scanned the farm through the dim morning light.
To her left over the tree-covered mountain, the horizon glowed pink with the imminence of sunrise. At this early hour, the best place to find her daat was in the barn.
Determined to face him bravely, she took a deep breath and set off.
Nerves turned her stomach sour, her heart accelerated, and her palms broke into a sweat.
Was this how Eli had felt before his departure? Brave yet terrified at the same time?
“Daat?” She crept through the open doors. The smell of hay and animals surrounded her. Two kittens scampered across the floor and into the shadows. “Daat?”
“I’m here, Hanna.” From behind an out-of-order milking machine, he popped up and wiped his brow on the back of his sleeve. He scratched at his thick, brown beard and raised an eyebrow. “What is it? Why are you wearing shoes?”
She glanced at her feet. During the summer, the only reason she, as well as Sarah and the children, had to wear shoes outside was to go to church or for a rare trip into town. In contrast, her daat and brothers worked around machinery and large animals, so they wore boots year-round.
She finally met her father’s gaze, his impatient scrutiny, and she suppressed a shudder.
“I’ve made a decision about joining the church,” she said.
The large vein on his temple pulsed. Anger, a warning, flared in his cold blue eyes. He swallowed hard and wiped at his brow again. “And?”
“I’ve decided not to. I’m here to say good-bye.”
“You’re a foolish girl!” he spat out, rounding the milking machine to approach her. Though he walked with a limp, she instinctively backed up, ready to make a fast escape should he become violent. “The Devil’s Playground looks good to you, does it?”
Hanna trembled and stepped back. “This life isn’t for me, and I wish you would respect that as you ought to. I feel I must point out that others who leave our community are still welcomed by their families for visits.” She gestured to the door behind her, looking at the rolling fields behind the house. “I don’t belong. Just like Eli didn’t belong. I can’t stay for one more day.”
“Do not speak his name! You’re forsaking your family and friends. Not to mention God and His plan for you. If you leave, you’ll have no one. Nothing.” He paused and softened his voice. “You’re part of this family. You can’t leave. We care about you.”
Her throat burned, but she’d resolved not to allow his words to sway her, no matter what he said. In her heart, she believed her daat cared more about his reputation in the community and how a second child leaving would affect his image. First Eli. Now her. He would probably say or do anything to make her stay.
A noise caught her attention, and she spotted a few of her younger cousins, who lived on a nearby farm and frequently visited to help in the mornings, peering at them from behind a ladder that led up to the loft. The sight of their little faces almost broke her resolve. Oh how she would miss them, and her arms ached to hug them one last time.
“Go tend to the goats!” her daat growled, his face reddening more by the second. Her cousins scrambled away, and Hanna hated that she wouldn’t be able to say good-bye to them all. Daat would prevent her from speaking to anyone else before she left—of that she had no doubt.
“I’m leaving now,” she said, angry with herself for trying to say her farewells. What had she expected? A hug and well wishes? An invitation to visit the farm whenever she liked? Not likely.
His bushy eyebrows pinched together and he limped forward. He held a wrench in his hand, and the livid expression he wore revealed his intentions. Her stomach flipped, and she turned and ran from the barn without a backward glance. She had no wish to see his anger or to feel it. Those days had come to an end.
As she passed the woodshop where her brothers, Jacob and Abram, spent their mornings, she paused to gaze through the windows. She spotted them moving about the shop but shrank away from an encounter with them. After being shut out by Sarah and her own daat, she couldn’t bear the thought of another cold rejection.
No one called out her name, and no one came running after her as she headed for the cornfield. It took a few minutes to reach the rocks where she’d hidden her bag. Luckily it hadn’t rained. She peeked inside, inspecting the contents. A hairbrush, a skein of her favorite yarn, several crochet hooks, a small sewing kit, a pen, a set of correspondence cards, her birth certificate, an apron, and two dark blue dresses identical to the one she had on. No food. No water. No money. Nothing of any real value. Yet Hanna wasn’t worried. Not much, anyway.
She had a plan.
As she exited the field and made for the forest path she knew well, the rising sun chased the shadows out of the tall trees and underbrush. Hanna walked slowly, keeping her attention on the narrow trail. A blacksnake had bitten her in the forest last year while she was picking berries, and she had no desire to repeat that painful experience, even though none of the local snakes were venomous. Eli had taught her all about snakes and bears and bobcats—the only real threat posed by nature near the farm. The best way to keep safe when alone was to make noise, so she hummed the tune to “In the Still Isolation,” her favorite childhood song.
The path ahead led to the Hartzlers’ farm, but Hanna didn’t intend to stop there. If she stayed in the woods and traveled a bit farther, she would happen upon Ben Foster’s property. Mr. Foster lived in the middle of the forest and rarely left his home. He was kind and trustworthy though, and he had helped Eli when he’d left home years ago.
She smiled as she recalled the one and only letter Eli had sent to the farm. She’d intercepted it and tossed it into the fire before her daat could find it. It had been a simple note addressed to her. Eli had been brief and vague, only telling her that he’d spent time living with and working for Mr. Foster, but that he’d eventually traveled across the country and met a nice woman in Oregon, where he planned to settle down. He’d assured her Mr. Foster was a decent man she could trust, and she would be able to visit his home and write Eli letters without their daat finding out. And so, she’d been sneaking away to Mr. Foster’s cabin for the last three years.
