Amish Triplets for Christmas Page 19

  As if to challenge the notion, a tremendous gust abruptly lifted the branches of the willow tree and a cacophony of thunder reverberated overhead. The room went dim as instantly as if someone had doused a lamp and then just as suddenly was illuminated with a succession of brilliant flashes. Sarah screamed a piercing wail. Hannah barely had time to shut the windows against the barrage of hail bombarding the panes.

  “Kumme!” she urged the children. “Under my desk, now!”

  The children curled into balls on the floor, with Hannah shielding Sarah beneath her chest and the boys under each arm. Please, Lord, shelter us with Your mighty strength. Please, Lord, shelter us with Your mighty strength, Hannah prayed repeatedly as the atmosphere churned and cracked above them. The lightning was so scintillating and constant, Hannah could see it even as she squeezed her eyelids shut. The windowpanes popped like gunshot, and the force of the gale caused the desk to rattle like a train. Hannah tightened her grasp around the children.

  “Hold on!” Although she was just inches from their ears, she had to shout to be heard over the ruckus. “Hold on tight!”

  Such tremendous claps and clatters filled the air, she couldn’t discern what was happening inside the schoolhouse and what was happening outside it. In fact, she didn’t know if there was an inside anymore—it sounded as if the walls and roof had been fractured clear away from the building. Hannah tucked her chin to her chest against the dust and debris the wind was sweeping toward them in every direction.

  There was a formidable splintering before wham!—something above boomed so forcefully that Hannah felt the floorboards jump before she and the children were engulfed in complete darkness.

  * * *

  Sawyer, John and the boys made it to the house just as the squall broke out, large pellets of hail bouncing off the grass as they ran.

  “This is twister weather,” John said breathlessly to Doris, who was in the middle of supper preparations. “The animals knew it before we did. I had a hard time getting your horse into the stable, but eventually he settled down.”

  “You’re soaked, poor things,” she said, handing them each a towel. A bolt of lightning cracked nearby, causing her to leap. “My, my. I’m not even afraid of storms, and this one is making me jittery. I hope Hannah isn’t too nervous alone at school.”

  “You think Hannah and the kinner are still at the schoolhouse?” Sawyer asked in consternation. “Wouldn’t they have left a long time ago?”

  “I can’t be certain,” Doris stated, her pale skin fading to a lustrous shade of white, “but she had lessons to prepare. She said if a storm arose, they’d wait it out there.”

  “I have to make sure they’re alright.”

  “Sawyer,” John protested, grabbing his arm, “you can’t go out in this. The horses are already spooked and will run off the road. The Lord will keep Hannah and the kinner safe. We’ll go when it lets up.”

  “Neh,” argued Sawyer. “I have to get to them now.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Jonas volunteered.

  “Me, too,” said Phillip. “Daed, you should stay here and make Doris a cup of tea. It looks like her nerves are frazzled.”

  By the time they’d hitched the horse to the buggy and set out for the schoolhouse, the storm had traveled at a good clip from the southwest to the northeast. They witnessed lightning forking from the bruised clouds to the horizon, but the sky overhead was already brightening. Steam rose from the ground, and the air had a metallic smell. The fields were blanketed in hail like snow.

  As they neared the school, Sawyer was sickened by the sight of the damage: trees were uprooted and toppled, fences smashed and strewn, and a cow lay on its side in a field. He was grateful Jonas had the foresight to bring a couple of pairs of handsaws; more than once he and Phillip had to hop down and clear a path through the fallen trees. Sawyer realized this part of the town was the hardest hit. But nothing could have prepared him for the shock of seeing the schoolhouse.

  One side—the side where Doris held her classes—remained relatively unscathed. Hannah’s side, however, was nothing more than a heap of rubble, pulverized by the weight of the giant willow. Gasping in horror, Sawyer shouted, “Neh!”

  * * *

  When the noise finally abated, Hannah wiggled her fingers and her toes. In shock, she thought strangely, I must be alive.

  “Sarah? Simon? Samuel?” She tried to call their names, but her mouth was dry.

  The space was too tight for her to shift her body, and she was crouched in utter darkness. Nearly overcome by a wave of panic, she attempted to take a deep breath. It was then she felt the most marvelous movement beneath her chest, and subsequently each of her arms fluttered, too, reminding her of chicks hatching from their eggs. The children were stirring!

  “Are you hurt? Are you hurt?” she repeated. “Wiggle your fingers and toes. Tell me if you are hurt.”

  When all three children confirmed they were fine, Hannah burst into prayer. “Denki, mighty Lord, for Your provision!” she sang. “Denki, denki, denki!”

  “Is the storm over?” Sarah asked. “May we get out of here now?”

  “It’s very crowded,” Simon whimpered.

  “And dark,” Samuel admitted.

  “The storm is over,” Hannah said carefully. “I know it’s dark and crowded in here, but we’ll get out soon. You see, the wind blew quite a few branches and pieces of wood down on top of us. As soon as your daed and the leit come, they will lift the debris up and we will climb out.”

  “Are we trapped?” Sarah asked, and Hannah could feel her body quiver.

  “Trapped? Neh, we’re cozy,” Hannah replied. “This desk saved our lives! And do you know what? My groossdaadi made this desk many, many years ago when my daed was just a boy your age. My daed used to hide under it in the workshop. He pretended it was a cave.”

  “We can pretend it’s a cave!” Samuel suggested.

  “Jah,” Hannah encouraged him. “When people are in caves, they like to pass the time by telling stories. Let’s think back to the first day you came to school in Willow Creek and tell all of the stories we can remember about our time together.”

  “Like the time we caught the giant toad?” Simon asked.

  “Or when we played that gold dust trick on Daed?” Samuel wondered.

  “How about when we made snitz pies?” Sarah questioned.

  “Oh, my,” Hannah said. “Until this storm struck, I don’t think there was ever a bigger mess than on the day we made snitz pies!”

  “Jah,” agreed Sarah. “Now, that was a real disaster!”

  The four of them began to laugh so hard they shook.

  “Hey! You’re wiggling me like jelly!” Simon shouted, which made them laugh and wiggle all the more.

  * * *

  Sawyer had jumped from the buggy before he’d brought the horse to a complete halt. He sprinted up the stairs of the schoolhouse. The door to Hannah’s classroom oddly stood standing, but the rest of the wall and roof were skeletal at best. The space once occupied by neat rows of desks was covered with thick willow tree branches, piled at least a dozen feet high. Fearing no one could have survived it, Sawyer retched at the sight of the destruction.

  “Kumme,” Jonas said, grasping his shoulder from behind. “They’re not here. They probably left for her groossdaadi’s house before the storm broke.”

  Holding on to the possibility as a ray of hope, Sawyer turned to accompany his cousin when he heard it: giggling. He’d recognize the sound anywhere; it was the sound of his children’s happiness. It was Hannah’s wind-chime laughter.

  “Hello! Hello!” he shouted frantically. “Are you there? Are you hurt?”

  “We are here,” a faint voice responded. “We’re fine, but we can’t get out!”

  Tears sprang to Sawyer’s eyes, and he didn’t
bother to brush them away as he scrambled over the willow branches. “Where are you? Call out again!”

  “Under Hannah’s desk!” came several voices in unison. “Front of the classroom!”

  “We’re coming!” he shouted back, using his loudest volume. “We hear you and we’re coming!

  “They’re on the other side of this tree,” Sawyer directed. “It’s too high to cross. We have to come at it from the other side.”

  The back wall had collapsed forward, but Sawyer was able to determine the location of Hannah’s desk by memory. He, Jonas and Phillip began heaving the wreckage over the side of the foundation to the ground below, assuring Hannah and the children as they worked that they’d have them out soon.

  “Cover your heads,” Sawyer yelled when all but the last layer of pilings had been removed. “Some of this wood might shift when we pull the desk away. On the count of three—”

  Sawyer and Jonas tipped the desk at an angle so the foursome had room to escape. Samuel and Simon sprang to their feet, but Sarah’s and Hannah’s muscles were cramped from being in the same position for so long and the men had to help them stand.

  After embracing his children in a tremendous bear hug, Sawyer instructed, “Jonas, grab the boys’ hands. Phillip, you take Sarah. I’ve got Hannah.”

  His heart thudding like mad, he lifted her into his arms and placed her gently into the buggy. Her face was streaked with grime and her eyelashes were thick with dust, but he thought she was a most beautiful sight.

  He asked again, “Are you sure everyone is unharmed?”

  “We’re fine,” she confirmed, “but I must see if Groossdaadi is alright.”

  * * *

  As they charged toward her home, Hannah was appalled by the extent of the damage. Her stomach lurched several times, realizing her grandfather would never have heard the storm coming. She bit her lip and begged, Please, Lord, let him be safe.

  When they crested the hill leading to her lane, her worst fears were realized: even from a distance she could see the chimney was all that remained standing of her house. The horse stall was smashed, as was her grandfather’s workshop. The willow was stripped of its leaves, and the swing dangled like a flag of surrender from a top branch.

  “Neh! Neh!” she moaned, scrambling over the children to leap from the buggy while it was still in motion. “Neh!”

  “Hannah, wait!”

  But Hannah ignored the voice. She ran to her grandfather’s workshop and numbly began flinging pieces of wood from the pile. A miserable, lonely, bitter old coot. Those were the last words she’d spoken to him.

  “Hannah, wait!” the voice said again, in her ear now.

  Sawyer wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her off the pile of debris, but as soon as he set her down, she bolted for the wreckage again. She had to get to her grandfather. He could be buried beneath the rubble, as she and the children had been. He wouldn’t be able to hear her coming. She had to get to him. She had to let him know she was coming, that she’d never leave him.

  This time, Sawyer restrained her arms as he embraced her from behind. She kicked him and wept hysterically. “Let me go! Let me go!” she yelled. “I have to get to my groossdaadi. Why aren’t you helping me save him?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Sawyer stated emphatically. “Your groossdaadi is alive. He returned in his buggy behind us just now. He said he was delivering a cradle to Miriam Stolzfus when the storm struck.”

  Sawyer loosened his grip on her, and she slowly shifted to see if he was telling the truth. Although it was dusk, there was no mistaking the stooped figure shuffling in her direction.

  “Hannah!” her grandfather called. “My Hannah! I thought I’d lost you!”

  Hannah’s knees knocked, and her breathing was hard and fast. “Groossdaadi,” she whispered. Then the ground seemed to come up from behind to clock her in the head.

  She woke in a room where she’d never been and shaded her eyes against the glare of white morning light.

  “Hannah, it’s me, Doris Hooley,” a familiar voice greeted her. “You’re at the Plank farm. You had a fall and bumped your head. It probably hurts and you may experience a bit of confusion for a few days, but you’re going to be fine.”

  “My groossdaadi—”

  “He is fine, although I must say he has a huge appetite. I think he ate four eggs for breakfast!” Doris chuckled. “The kinner are fine, too, to your credit.”

  “Neh, to the Lord’s credit,” Hannah murmured, suddenly flooded with fragments of recollection about what happened the day before.

  “You may stay in bed, or if you can manage it, join us downstairs. I believe you’re better suited for one of Amelia’s dresses than for mine, so this morning I brought you one to wear. Sarah offered to brush your hair for you if I deem it unkempt,” Doris said with a chuckle. “And the washbasin is freshly filled.”

  Hannah felt as if every bone in her body ached, and her mind was slightly addled, but she was so eager to see everyone, she dressed and hobbled downstairs.

  “Guder mariye!” the children whispered.

  “Doris said we have to be quiet because your head might hurt still. Does it, Hannah?” Simon asked.

  “It hurts a little,” she said, “but do you know what might make it feel much better?”

  “If I fix you strawberry preserves on toast?” Sarah suggested.

  “I was going to say three hugs, but now I think I’ll say three hugs and strawberry preserves on toast!” she said, and the children readily complied.

  “Hannah, kumme,” her grandfather said from the porch.

  He patted the swing and she sat down, positioning her body not only so he could read her lips, but so she could take a good look at him. She felt as if she never wanted to let him out of her sight again.

  “Do you feel better?”

  “Jah,” she answered. “Much better. Safe and sound.”

  As the two of them sat watching the birds flit about as if their world hadn’t been turned upside down the day before, Sawyer ambled up the stairs and lowered himself into the spare chair.

  “Guder mariye, Hannah,” he greeted her. “We were all worried about you.”

  “Guder mariye, Sawyer. I am fine, denki.”

  “He wants to marry you,” Hannah’s grandfather announced in his characteristically bold manner, motioning his thumb toward Sawyer. “He has a daadi haus. I could work in his shop. You should consider saying jah.”

  Hannah closed her eyes. After all they’d just been through, her grandfather hadn’t changed a bit. He still wanted to control her life, based on his own desires. Even more disappointing, Sawyer hadn’t tried to convince her to marry him—her grandfather had done it on Sawyer’s behalf, just like his children had told her how lovesick he was. Shouldn’t these sentiments come from Sawyer? If he truly loved her, why didn’t his words express what was in his heart?

  * * *

  “Neh,” Hannah refused, and Sawyer’s heart sank.

  She squinted in her grandfather’s direction, but her words were clearly intended for Sawyer. “You want me to marry him because our house and all that we own is gone, but even that’s not reason enough for me, Groossdaadi. There are other things we can do. You can stay with Eve and Menno. I will live at Miriam and Jacob’s and care for their bobbel. After that, we’ll figure something out. The Lord will provide.”

  Her grandfather spryly leaped to his feet. He clasped Hannah’s shoulder with one hand and Sawyer’s with the other.

  “I may be deaf, but nothing gets by me. I saw some time ago that the two of you love each other, and I was selfish to stand in your way. I didn’t want to end up alone, but the gut Lord showed me yesterday how wrong I was to think I could hold on to you forever. For that, I am sorry, Hannah. I truly am.”

 
; Pausing, he took out a handkerchief and blew his nose.

  “You are right. The Lord will provide our daily bread, whether or not you marry this man. If you don’t want to marry him, don’t marry him. That is your decision to make, not mine. You have my blessing either way,” he said and then retreated into the house.

  “Your groossdaadi is right,” Sawyer said, leaning forward in his chair to brush a tendril of hair behind Hannah’s ear. His voice was husky as he declared, “I do love you and I have loved you for some time. I just haven’t expressed it aloud to you until now. I love you in a way I’ve never loved anyone before, and I always will.”

  Hannah’s eyes, so soulful and blue, scrutinized his face. She always seemed able to see right through me. She must know I’m telling the truth, he thought.

  Dropping to his knees, he pleaded as much as proposed, “Hannah Lantz, will you be my wife?”

  Her eyes widened and she lifted her hands to the top of her head. Her lip began to quiver as tears streamed down her face, but she said nothing, neither turning away nor drawing near. His lungs began to burn, and he felt as if he couldn’t get enough air. Unable to bear the silence, Sawyer closed his eyes. As he was wishing the ground would swallow him up, a butterfly alighted on his cheek.

  Then he realized it wasn’t the beating of a butterfly’s wings against his skin; it was Hannah’s eyelashes fluttering.

  “Jah, jah,” Hannah repeated, laughing and crying at once as she pressed her cheek against his. Sawyer wasn’t certain whether she was delirious or ecstatic.

  “Do you mean jah, you will marry me?” he asked, half question, half exclamation.

  “Jah, I will marry you, Sawyer Plank,” Hannah replied, nodding vigorously. “I love, love, love you!”

  Standing, he picked her up, twirled her around, and then he kissed her softly on the lips once before setting her back on the ground.

  With her brothers in tow, Sarah stepped out onto the porch at that moment carrying a plate of toast.

  “Daed,” she scolded, “you mustn’t get too close to Hannah. That is how germs are spread. She’ll catch your lovesickness.”