A Baby for Hannah Read Online Free PDF Page A

Approaching the cabin, Hannah paused at the split-rail fence.
    “Good morning, roses,” she said. “Are you happy this morning? It looks like there might be rain later for you. That’s better than my water, isn’t it?”
    The roses swayed gently in the soft breeze and she laughed. Flowers couldn’t talk back, of course, but it sure would be gut to have someone in the house soon who could. A little bobli, perhaps a boy, who could coo as well as cry. He would be Jake’s boy, and a part of Jake would have come into the world to carry on his name. Or perhaps the child would be a little girl, a cute little girl, because Jake could only have cute little girls. Either way, the bobli would come to bless them with sweetness and love.
    “I hope you don’t die from too much attention,” she said to the roses with one last backward glance.
    Going into the cabin through the kitchen door, Hannah laid her recipe book out on the table. It was time for serious planning for Mr. Brunson’s special night. He had done so much for them and deserved the best.
    Flipping through the pages, her mom’s recipe for underground ham caught her attention. Would that be the thing to make for Mr. Brunson? It tasted gut, but might it be a little fancy? Perhaps he was expecting something more Amish. More simple. Even something like mashed potatoes, gravy, and chicken.
    Jah, Mr. Brunson would like the basics. With a smile, Hannah closed the book. The gravy and fried chicken could be made without recipes. Yet there needed to be more or Mr. Brunson might think she’d simply slapped something together.
    There was the cherry pie of course, but something even more was needed. Hannah thought for a long moment and then found the tab for salads in her recipe book. Opening the page, her eye caught the recipe for a seven-layer salad. Jah, that was the very thing. This would add a touch of fancy, and then perhaps homemade ice cream for dessert. Mr. Brunson would be so impressed his eyes would sparkle with joy.
    Hannah laughed at the thought. Homemade ice cream would be just the thing and would go perfectly with the cherry pie. When he came for supper, Mr. Brunson would have something to eat that fully expressed Jake’s and her gratitude.
    Walking into the living room to the hickory desk, Hannah came back with a pen and paper and sat down at the table. Looking over the recipes, she began her grocery shopping list. There was no way she had all these items in the house. Carefully she wrote down a bag of potatoes and cream cheese to add a little extra taste to the mashed potatoes. There was enough flour and seasoning in the house for gravy, but no cherry pie filling. This summer she really would have to can cherries instead of relying on store-bought. Betty said there was an orchard north of Libby that sold cherries for a reasonable price.
    Scribbling on the list, Hannah added the vegetables for the seven-layer salad, extra lettuce, and buttermilk for her chicken batter. Two bags of chicken should be enough—if she remembered correctly the bag sizes the grocery store carried. Now, did she have enough bacon for the green beans?
    Stepping outside through the kitchen door, Hannah walked to the springhouse above the presently budding garden. The long rows of corn had sprouted last week already, holding their green shoots skyward this morning, apparently eager for the rain that now threatened over the mountains. One long row was devoted to tomatoes and beside it, the potatoes. Shorter rows went for green beans, carrots, and lettuce. Now that Miriam was coming, she could help with the weeding and harvesting.
    Opening the springhouse door, Hannah stepped inside the cool darkness. The spring waters bubbled out of the ground here, and Jake had built the shack over the spot. Shelves lined the walls, with an open, graveled pit for vegetables and potatoes. Hannah squinted, finding a single package of bacon on the lower shelf.
    So it had been gut that she checked. She also