A Hope for Hannah Read Online Free

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