Her Brother's Keeper (12 page)

Hannah sat up in bed, lit her lantern, then opened the drawer of her nightstand. She pulled out the cedar box with a few keepsakes from Ethan, things she hadn't buried. Even though pictures weren't allowed, she and Ethan had taken one of themselves a few weeks before he died. Their day at the Allentown Fair was one of Hannah's fondest memories, and from high up on the Ferris wheel, Ethan had held out his phone and snapped a picture of them. A flash of light lit up their faces against the darkness of night behind them. If only she could have known that only a short time later, her Ethan would be gone.

Why, Ethan? Why?
She'd asked herself hundreds of times. They'd had their entire future to look forward to, and Hannah had been certain God had blessed her beyond her greatest hopes. She took out the two dried roses, the first ones Ethan had given her, ones he had grown himself. She thumbed through other keepsakes, expecting the familiar tears to build, but lately, her grief
had taken a new turn. Anger. How do you love someone, commit to a lifetime with them, then leave without saying good-bye, not even a note? Nothing. Just word from a neighbor that Ethan was dead, that he had hanged himself. And now Hannah had to live with that image in her mind. Although, she was sure it wasn't as bad as the vision that Big Johnny Stoltzfus would have to carry around, since he was the one who found Ethan. She missed Ethan, but he hadn't only ended his own life, he'd taken a part of Hannah's too.

She was putting everything back in the small box when she heard a voice, and since sleep wasn't coming this evening, she picked up the lantern and eased her bedroom door open. She could see a light coming from beneath the door in Mary's room. Tiptoeing, she made her way down the hallway and knocked lightly.

“Mary, are you awake?”

“Yeah, just a minute.”

“No, no, no,” Charlotte whispered as she looked at her watch. She'd just finished applying the hair color she'd brought from home. Since she might be here at least another three weeks, she decided to fix her hair tonight while everyone slept. Someone was bound to notice her roots any day now—they were so obvious to her.

She was thankful for the prayer covering. She always
had her hair done at a salon, so she had no idea how to match just the roots, which is why she'd applied the dye over all her hair. Hopefully, this would be a shade of blond she could live with and that no one would notice a difference. Twice, Hannah had almost caught Charlotte without any head covering. She was sure Amish women didn't color their hair. She'd seen plenty of the women with full heads of gray hair, many who didn't even look like they'd reached forty yet.

Hannah often wore just a scarf over her head at home, and sometimes nothing at all when she was inside the house. Same with Lena. When both of the women had asked why Charlotte never took her prayer cap off, she said she wasn't comfortable doing so around Hannah's father and brother. She had no idea what the rule was, but it was all she could come up with at the time.

Ugh.
Dye was going to get all over the towel, but as she wound it around her head, she decided to worry about that later.

“Hey, what's up?” she asked as she pushed the door open a few inches, shining her flashlight toward the ceiling.

“I'm sorry. I thought you took a bath earlier.” Hannah held the lantern up a little higher and stared at Charlotte through the opening.

“I did. I'm just . . . well, just . . . soaking my hair.”

Hannah cocked her head. “
Soaking
your hair?”

Charlotte opened the door a little wider and forced a toothy smile that she hoped might look genuine. “Oh, it's
just something to make my hair shiny.” She knew vanity was looked down upon, and once again, she was kicking herself for not choosing her words more carefully. “Not really shiny, just manageable. It tangles easily.”

Hannah crinkled her nose as she waved a hand in front of her face. “
Ach
, it doesn't smell very
gut
, does it?”

“No. It's pretty stinky.” Charlotte cleared her throat, wondering why she hadn't thought this through.

“I can't sleep and wondered if maybe we could talk.”

Charlotte was just about to concoct another lie, excuse, something—when Hannah added, “I want to talk about Ethan. Something is bothering me.”

“Okay.” She eased the door open, glad Hannah was ready to discuss Ethan, but nervous too. She took three quick steps backward when Hannah came closer with the lantern.

“Ach
, I'm sorry. I can snuff it out.”

“No. It's okay.” She sat on the side of the bed closest to the window, and Hannah put the lantern on the dresser across the room before she took a seat on the other side of the bed.

Charlotte waited, her head tingling from the dye. She turned the flashlight off and placed it on the bed. From where it was on the dresser, the lantern cast only shadows on the two of them. But that was okay. Charlotte didn't need the open flame any closer.

“Do you need to go do something with your hair?” Hannah pushed her thick, dark hair over her shoulder.

“No.
Nee.
It's fine. It has to set.” She scratched her forehead. “For management. I mean, to be manageable.”
Good grief. This is so exhausting.
“Anyway, you said you wanted to talk about Ethan?” She folded her legs underneath her and hoped she was ready for whatever Hannah was about to share.

“Ya
. My feelings about Ethan have started to change lately. For some reason, I'm feeling angry at him. I've prayed for God to keep this anger away from my heart, but at times, I'm more mad than hurt. And I'm just not sure how to feel about that.”

Charlotte's bottom lip trembled. Hopefully, Hannah couldn't see it in the darkness. “Why are you angry?” She heard the way she spat the words. Hannah may still be grieving Ethan's death, but Charlotte hadn't cleared Hannah of somehow being involved, even if only emotionally.

Hannah lowered her head. “
Ya
, I know. I am ashamed for feeling this way. But Ethan left me. He left me alone here, loving him and unable to be with him. Why would a person do that to someone they loved?”

Charlotte was trembling all over now as she recalled Ethan's last letter to her, still wondering if Hannah had broken Ethan's heart. She shined the flashlight directly in Hannah's face. “What happened, Hannah? Why do you think your fiancé killed himself?” Charlotte held her breath as her heart pounded. This was it, the purpose of her trip, if Hannah trusted her enough to be honest.

Hannah hung her head, shaking it back and forth as she sniffled. “He ended things with me. I have no idea why. He told me he wasn't worthy of my love, called off our wedding, and he was dead two days later.”

Charlotte waited for Hannah's words to register, then forced herself to breathe. “What?”

“It just didn't make any sense.” Hannah stood up and paced in the shadows between the glow from the lantern and Charlotte's flashlight. “When I tried to question him about it, he just left me standing in the middle of his living room and ran out the door. It was the last time I saw him.”

As much as Charlotte hadn't wanted to visit Ethan's house, that might be the only place she would get some answers because obviously Hannah was as confused as Charlotte. “I'm so sorry, Hannah.” Her stomach clenched as she thought about the way she'd been feeling lately. “You have a right to be angry. It's an awful feeling not to understand why someone you love would do this.”

Hannah stood up, pulled a tissue from the pocket of her white robe, and dabbed at her eyes. “I feel like I can't move forward, like I'm stuck until I know what caused Ethan to do this.” She picked up the lantern and held it up. “It's been a year. When will it stop hurting?”

Charlotte hoped she wouldn't burst into tears. Hannah wasn't her enemy, she was her ally. She shook her head and whispered into the dimly lit room. “I don't know.”

Charlotte had an overwhelming urge to make a full confession. But tomorrow was lunch with Isaac, and
maybe he had more information. Although, wouldn't he have already shared anything he knew with Hannah? This wasn't the time to add more grief on Hannah, so Charlotte opted to stay in the role she'd chosen, at least for now.

Hannah excused herself and made a hasty exit. Charlotte glanced at her cell phone to check the time—noticing she only had two bars left—then she sat on the bed to wait ten more minutes until her hair would be done. She'd been so wrong about the woman her brother had intended to marry, and she was more confused now than ever.

Finally, it was time to wash out the color. She eased her bedroom door open and tiptoed down the hall. As she fumbled in near darkness, she set the sink faucet to warm and did her best to rinse her hair by the light of her flashlight, trying desperately to sort things out in her mind.

But as she rewrapped her head in a clean towel, she couldn't help but wonder if she would find the answer at Ethan's house.

Seven

C
harlotte picked up her cell phone from the nightstand and checked the time.
Ugh
. Not only was she late for breakfast, but she was going to need a trip to town soon to charge her phone somewhere. It was still dark as she fumbled with the flashlight, then pulled a dark-blue dress over her head, followed by a black apron. She twisted her hair into a bun and put the prayer covering on, opting to skip brushing her teeth until after breakfast. She knew that Lena and Hannah would clean things up right after the men finished eating, and Charlotte didn't want to miss out. She could hear forks clinking against plates, so she picked up the pace as she shined the flashlight down the stairs and breathed in the aroma of bacon.

“I'm sorry I'm late again,” she said as she eased into her chair and reached for a slice of bread. She was just about to take a bite when she realized they would all be
expecting her to pray, so she bowed her head and closed her eyes.
I wish I knew You. But even though I don't really, maybe You can help me find some sort of peace about Ethan. And I'd like to pray for Hannah to have peace in her heart also.
It was the first prayer she'd said in a long time. During devotions, she'd mostly just listened, and that had been hard enough.

When she opened her eyes, no one was eating, and all eyes were on her. She grinned. “What?” She dabbed at her chin, swiped at her eyes, and wondered if there was something on her face. Then Jacob burst out laughing.

“Your hair is
green
!”

Charlotte reached up and touched the patch of exposed hair that always showed even with the prayer covering on. “What?” she said in a whisper as she glanced at Hannah, then at Lena. She'd washed the dye out in almost total darkness last night and the sun wasn't up yet this morning, but as always, the kitchen was well lit with lanterns hanging above the table and on the counters.

Hannah brought a hand to her mouth, covering it as her eyes grew round as saucers. Even quiet Amos was staring. Charlotte scooted back from the table so fast, the chair hit the wall. She fumbled with the flashlight, trying to turn it on, and ran through the living room, darting up the stairs two at a time. She didn't stop until she was in front of the mirror in the bathroom, and as she tore her prayer cap off, she pointed the light toward the mirror. She was speechless.

“We will fix this,” Hannah said when she caught up to Charlotte, breathless as she lifted the lantern she was carrying. “But we must hurry before your picnic with Isaac later today.” She shook her head, frowning. “Your stop-tangle tonic must not have worked like it was supposed to.”

“My hair is
green
.” Charlotte pulled the pins from her bun, allowing her hair to fall halfway down her back. She glanced at Hannah, who was standing with one hand on Charlotte's shoulder. “I finally have a date . . . and my hair is
green
.” There hadn't been a shortage of dates in her life, but it had been awhile—so long that she couldn't even remember the last guy she'd gone out with. She'd just sort of shut down after Ethan died.