Forsaken (9 page)

Dusk swooped down like a hawk on its prey, and the last blood-red rays soaked into the land. Akiva relaxed in the shadows, but his keen gaze bore into the lit window.

Hannah stirred something on the stove and turned toward her little sister—what was her name? Kim? Kate? Katie? But his gaze latched onto Hannah, tracing her every movement, straining to catch a glimpse of her as she moved about the kitchen, memorizing each hand gesture and smile. A longing welled up in him to feel the warmth of her smile aimed in his direction. It had been too long, and he drank in the sight of her like a man traipsing through the Sahara devours water.

“
I see my beauty in you
.” He whispered the words of the ancient mystic that welled up inside him like spring water burbling out of the ground, unable to be contained.

She wore a dark purple dress; that color had always been his favorite. Tiny wisps of blond hair escaped the traditional Amish way her hair was twisted and tied up. His chest tightened and his throat convulsed, the longing that had lain dormant for so long awoke within him, stretched, and made every fiber come alive with an inner heat. It spread throughout his body and his skin tingled.

She was poetry in motion, a sonnet begging to be written, and snippets of words and verses from wordsmiths far beyond his skill came to mind.

She was a phantom of delight

When first she gleamed upon my sight;

A lovely apparition, sent

To be a moment's ornament;

Her eyes as stars of twilight fair.

Then the green shade slid downward, covering the window, blocking his view, and his longing hardened into a cold knot in his chest. He'd waited so long to be near her, to see her. Would she still smell of flour and sunshine, rain and cedar? Did she taste of strawberries? Would she once again soften in his arms?

But before he could touch or taste her again, how could he approach her?

Would she even recognize him?

Fear him?

Or rush to meet him?

The last stanza of the Wordsworth poem said what he couldn't manage: “
A perfect Woman, nobly planned, To warn, to comfort, and command; and yet a spirit still, and bright with something of angelic light
.”

It was always the same being near Hannah—his tongue tangled, his throat closed, and poetry loosened the words from within him and allowed him to reveal his heart. If there was a beating muscle inside him after all of this time, it was collapsing and folding in on itself, the weight of grief heavy and unrelenting. Love, like a beacon guiding him, had brought him all this way to find her, to be with her once more. And yet now that he was here, doubts and fears poisoned his hope.

The back door of the house opened, and a wedge of lantern light slanted across the porch. Akiva whirled away, bolted over the porch railing, and vanished into the barn. The earthy smells of hay and manure surrounded him, and he paced before the stalls. A horse stamped its foot and whinnied. The animal's nervous agitation seemed contagious and soon the other animals acted restless and uneasy, shifting and snorting, backing away from the openings as he passed. He moved over to one stall, stared at a gray mare who ducked her head, a muscle along her neck twitching.

Then something lying on the ground caught Akiva's eye. He turned away from the stall, bent, and retrieved the faceless rag doll. Dressed like an Amish girl, the doll reminded him of one Hannah had carried long ago. He placed it against his chest, the place where his heart could no longer beat without her.

She was the reason he had returned.

She was his only reason for his existence.

And she would be his salvation.

Then it became clear what he must do. He would risk his last hope, all his love, even what life he had left.
Everything.
His hand tightened on the doll, crushing it with the strength of his determination.

Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the Pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul…

It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate:

I am the captain of my soul.

Maybe it was simply Hannah's mood of late, the gloom slithering over her as night approached, like dark fingers snuffing out the lamp of daylight. Time should have made missing Jacob easier, and yet it seemed harder, the sorrow darker.

From the kitchen window, she watched Levi climb into his buggy, readjust his hat, and flick the reins to get his horse moving. Only to herself did she admit she felt a stirring around him, more than a passing interest, and yet her heart seemed shackled to the past and she was unable to step forward. Were the shackles fear? Plain old fear of once more losing her heart? Or was her love for Jacob so strong that it bound her to the past forever? Would she never be free? Free to love someone again…someone like Levi?

“Hannah?” Mamm called.

She released the edge of the green shade, and it flopped back against the window. Then she hurried to take the platter of roasted chicken to the table. Dat sat at one end, Grandpa Ephraim at the other; Katie and Hannah looked at each other across the honeyed bread and buttered potatoes; Mamm perched cattycorner to her girls. The large wooden table seemed almost empty now with Rachel and Grandma Ruth gone. Sadness swelled inside Hannah's chest as her family nest seemed to be dwindling, which Mamm said was a new season for their lives. She bowed her head and silently thanked the Lord for His bounty and prayed for no more losses.

As soon as Dat cleared his throat, the signal for the food to be passed, Katie looked toward him expectantly. “The
English
man didn't want to stay for dinner?”

Mamm paused, holding the bowl of beets. “What
English
man?”

Dat took the beets then potatoes, scooping hefty helpings onto his plate, and the beet juice bled into the fluffy, white mound. “A stranger stopped earlier while you were at Molly's. He was not looking for a meal, Katie. He was lost. That is all.”

“Easy to do out here.” Mamm passed the acorn squash, buttered in the center and sprinkled with brown sugar.

With a heavy sigh, Katie rested her cheek against the back of her hand. “I wish he would have stayed.”

“Pass the butter.” Dat broke off one end of the sourdough loaf and mopped up gravy with it.

“Did you see the inside of his car?”

Dat made a disgruntled sound. “Why would I do that?”

“Curiosity is not evil,” Grandpa Ephraim said, “but it is pride that leads to destruction.”

Katie opened her mouth, but Mamm pressed a hand against Katie's arm to shush her. She glanced from Mamm to Dat and then stuffed her mouth with potatoes.

There was no other news, other than the weather forecast and how Molly Esh was readying her household for Sunday services, nothing of interest to discuss, and so they chewed in silence. Hannah stared at the calendar nailed to the wall, waiting for the meal to end, her thoughts lost in confusion. Her feelings were all jumbled, and she stared at those blank squares until her mind felt equally vacant.

After Dat scraped the last spoonful of potatoes onto his plate, the women waited for him to finish eating. Hannah's hands remained folded in her lap. Finally, he pushed back from the table, muttered, “
Gut
,” and stood.

Katie and Hannah cleaned off the table, scraping plates and bowls and covering the leftover bread.

“Mamm,” Katie said as she took a plate from Hannah and began drying it, “I left my doll in the barn. Can I go and get her?”

“When you finish with your chores.”

Katie nodded and worked hard to finish the dishes, scrubbing and washing the pots and pans and dishes. When Hannah folded the dishtowel at last, she smiled at her little sister, noticing how her summer freckles were starting to fade. “Go on now. I'll finish up.”

With a big grin, Katie skipped toward the back door.

“Hannah,” Dat called from his chair in the main room as Katie opened the back door, “go with her.”

“But…?” She stopped immediately at the frown slanting Mamm's eyebrows downward as Mamm took a plate from her. Worry darkened her mother's eyes and made Hannah's stomach clench tight. Why would Dat want her to go? Did he want to speak to Mamm privately? Was there something wrong? She ducked her chin and folded the rag.

Mamm took the rag from her too. “Go on. I will wipe the counters.”

As Hannah walked out the door, just before the latch caught, she heard Mamm ask, “Is everything all right, Daniel?”

He grunted. “And why wouldn't it be?”

But a minute later, he followed Hannah outside and stood on the porch, hands on his waist as he looked beyond the railing. She felt his gaze on her as she caught up with her younger sister and they walked toward the barn together. It was an easy walk, the ground smooth, and only fifty yards. Dat and Levi kept the area neat and cleared, as the milk truck pulled through here each morning to collect the milk and needed enough space to turn around. To one side of the barn was a paddock, and to the left was the spring house, the chicken coop, and the shed where the buggy was stored. On the backside of the barn was the silo, more paddocks, and where feed and hay were stacked. Fields stretched out beyond, which were now put to bed for the winter but in spring would be plowed and planted.

With Katie at her side, Hannah slid open the barn door. It was heavy and resisted, but she pushed hard. Waning light made the inside dark and shadowy, and Hannah wished she'd brought her flashlight. Katie ran ahead down the row of stalls. “You left your doll in here?”

“I thought so.” Walking back toward Hannah, Katie shook her head. “Maybe I left it in the loft.” With a shrug, she climbed up the wooden ladder into the rafters where a momma cat and her kittens lived.

Hannah walked along the stalls, peering inside each one and searching the shadowy corners for the doll that often seemed permanently attached to Katie. Sometimes her sister would steal away in the afternoons and play with the kittens or lamb, her doll always in her hand or under her arm.

A breath of a breeze drifted across the back of her neck, and chill bumps rose along her arms. She turned, glanced around. It felt as if someone was here. Her gaze drifted toward the boards above and she heard Katie rummaging around. Of course, she wasn't alone. But where was Toby? Wouldn't the lab bark if there was something dangerous? Then she heard the voice, the whisper of her name.

Hannah
.

Her heart battered her insides. A sudden flush made her skin prickle.

“Katie?” Her voice quavered.

“It's not here either.” Katie's voice was muffled but Hannah could hear the disappointment.

Hannah. I'm here. Don't be afraid.

She turned in a circle, searching for the source of the voice, her gaze frantic, her heartbeat frenzied. An icy chill flowed over her from head to toe and seeped into as if her bones were sponges, and she began to quake.

“Katie?”

Her little sister poked her head out of the opening above. “What?”

“Did you hear that?”

“What?”

Hannah shook her head. “Nothing. Must have been the wind.”

“Maybe my doll is in the spring house.” Katie climbed back down the ladder, cuddling a kitten that bolted out of her arms, obviously eager for freedom. “I played in there earlier.”

“All right.” Hannah rubbed the chill from her arms. “We'll try there.” She took Katie's hand in hers, glanced over her shoulder, and hurried her out of the barn.

Together, they walked across the small patch of dirt. Even in the short time they'd been in the barn, darkness had stolen over the farm, but the moon and stars lit the way to the small building on the side of the barn that housed the diesel engines required for refrigerating the milk, and the air compressors, which pumped water to the house. Toby came around the corner and nudged the back of her skirt then wandered off, nose to ground. When Hannah finally unhinged the rusty lock and pushed inside, Katie followed closely behind. The wind slammed the door shut and buried them in darkness.

Katie gasped and clung tighter to Hannah's hand.

“It's all right.” Hannah's voice sounded odd and tiny in the small building, as if all sound was absorbed in the darkness. Even though her heart was pumping harder and faster than the machines, it had no effect on banishing the cold fear that burrowed into her belly. She blinked hard, trying to see, but the black was deep and complete.

“Should I get the lantern?” Katie's voice sounded timid.

Hannah patted their joined hands, as much to comfort her little sister as herself. “Just give your eyes a minute to adjust.”

In that length of time, she could make out shadows and shapes of the machinery, but the corners were lost in shadows so black they must have been able to soak up all light. “Why were you playing in here? Dat doesn't want you in here.”

“I forgot. I won't do it again.” Katie started forward then stopped and tugged on Hannah's hand. “Will you come with me to the back?”

“Sure, Katie.”

They picked their way over power lines and cords. The air pump hissed and popped in a steady rhythm, but the usually familiar sound seemed louder in the darkness and made Hannah's skin contract. They moved along the back wall, inching forward, feeling their way along the wooden planks until Hannah saw a small, dark lump. “Is that it?”

Katie rushed forward and scooped up her baby doll, which used to be Hannah's and before that Mamm's. She smoothed out the doll's rumpled skirt and squashed bonnet. “Toby's gonna be in trouble. I think he stole it.”

Hannah laughed with relief. “At least she's all right now. Let's go back to the house.”

“Where have you been?” Katie scolded her doll. “You shouldn't go wandering off alone like that. I didn't know where you were. Come along, it's almost time for bed.”