Sisters of the Quilt Trilogy (106 page)

H
annah unlocked the cabin door and shoved it open. The December cold inside Zabeth’s cabin was as unyielding as the loneliness inside her. Silvery moonbeams stretched across the floor, and she moved to the piano without turning on the light. She plunked a few keys. It needed tuning, but she remembered the wonderful songs Zabeth played while Hannah sat beside her, watching.

As a baptized member of the Amish faith, Zabeth had broken ties with every relative to pursue her love of music. Martin carried that kind of passion for music. Hannah enjoyed it, but it didn’t reside in her like it did in them.

She walked to the window and looked out back. It was there on the bench she’d first met Martin.

Inside this cabin they formed a friendship and fell in love.

If he’d just come to the cabin …

But he wouldn’t. He wanted to sell it. Worse, she’d given in.

Everything between them began to change once this was no longer their haven. This is who she was, and he’d come here over and over again and embraced that part of her.

One lone light bulb hung from the ceiling. She went to the light switch and flipped it on and then off and then on. It was the first place she lived that had electricity … and freedom. Zabeth had supported her every dream, and she’d loved and accepted everything about Hannah.

Still wearing her coat, Hannah flicked the light off and lay on the couch. She needed to leave in just a minute. It was Tuesday, her night off, and Martin was expecting her.

His words beckoned to her—
“Come on, phone girl, make a choice for us.”

She had chosen. The decision was made.

Her future was with him.

After the children were in bed Sunday night, she’d told Martin about seeing Paul earlier that evening. The anger he’d expressed still made her shudder. She rushed through her explanation for going to Owl’s Perch—that she needed to talk to Mary because Dr. Lehman had said Hannah might be able to have children. Anger drained from his face, and the conversation shifted. By the time she went to the cottage, she’d agreed to his having a vasectomy.

Lying on her back staring at the ceiling, warm tears trickled down the sides of her face, and she closed her eyes.

Her phone rang, and she jerked. Fishing it out of her coat pocket, she sat up. “Hi.”

“Hey, where are you?”

Hannah blinked. “I … I must have fallen asleep.”

“You’re at the clinic then, and someone is in labor? I thought you were off tonight.”

“I am. I … I’m at the cabin.”

Silence.

It seemed to define their relationship more than anything else of late.

“I’m leaving right now.”

“It’s ten thirty, and you’re there while I’m here waiting. Didn’t you hear your phone ring half a dozen times tonight?”

“This is the first time it’s rung.”

“It is so time for you to get a new phone.”

“I just wanted to see the place, Martin. You used to like it, remember?”

“You used to live there, and what I liked about it was you.”

He’d never understand why she didn’t fully appreciate his guiding her toward change for the better. And she’d never understand why he couldn’t enjoy and appreciate the simplicity of a single light bulb hanging from a ceiling or the pleasure of warm soil under her bare feet as she tended her garden.

But he’d taught her how to navigate the Englischer world. They’d laughed and bonded and fallen in love. He’d healed her broken heart and made it possible for her to slip into a new life. And she loved him. They’d get through this transition. He was right; the cabin needed to be sold, and she needed to move on.

“I’m leaving right now.”

She went to her car, barely paying attention to the roads as she drove to Martin’s. It was after eleven when she pulled into his driveway. Carrying an armload of books and dry cleaning, Hannah pushed her hip against the car door, closing it. Streams of yellow gold light shone through the huge arched window of the main house onto the sparse layer of snow across the backyard. Martin stood at the second-story window, looking down.

The constant ache that’d taken up residence inside her increased. If they could just talk about what was happening to them, maybe they’d find their way back to each other again.

They’d tried. Both of them.

He’d told her that she needed to finish letting go of the Plain life. They’d sell the cabin, but she could take the on-call hours Dr. Lehman offered. Martin would have a vasectomy, but she could continue with her nursing school.

The concessions he wanted were great.

With the eyes of two young children staring at her even in her sleep, she would become whatever he needed her to be. If she thought about it the right way, the compromises were rational. He was asking her to adjust better to the Englischer life. He wasn’t wrong in wanting that.

In spite of her full arms, she managed a wave. Martin raised his hand slowly, returning the gesture. Hoping desperately that the trip to Hawaii would be all they needed it to be, she went to the cottage.

If she could just get Paul out of her mind, many of their other issues would fall to the wayside. Wouldn’t they? Balancing all the stuff in her arms, she struggled to open the unlocked door to her cottage. Without flipping on a light, she walked through the dark room and plunked everything onto the small, round kitchen table.

Her cell phone rang, and she dug through her coat pocket to locate it. “Hi.”

“Hey, phone girl.” Martin sounded sleepy or maybe just tired.

“Hey, yourself.” She wrestled to find words and not to sound as empty as she felt. “How was your day?”

“Usual. Yours?”

“Normal stuff, except we delivered a set of twins. The Fishers now have two sets of twins in their brood of nine children.”

“Fascinating I’m sure. Can you imagine what the day is like for those parents?”

She flicked on a light. “How one feels about that depends on what their goals in life are.” Taking her dry-cleaned uniform with her, she walked into the bedroom and hung it in the closet before returning to the kitchen.

“Yeah, I guess so. I’ve been meaning to ask about Friday night’s graduation. Did you need to do something about a cap and gown?”

Spotting a large envelope on the table under the books she’d piled there, she slid it free. “No, all I need is my nurse’s uniform. I actually sent it to the dry cleaner so it’d look its best. I picked it up earlier today.”

It was addressed to Hannah Lapp Lawson, but it had no return address. It must have come in the mail today and Laura brought it to the cottage and left it on the table. Maybe her Daed had responded to the letter she sent him. It’d been a very short note—
Dear Daed, all is forgiven. I love you, Hannah
.

It’d taken her hours to write those simple words, but by the time she wrote them, she meant every one. She opened the envelope and shook the contents onto the table. A letter on green stationery and one very thick white envelope slid onto the table. She flipped the white envelope over and stopped cold.

Her first name was written across it in Paul’s handwriting.

“Helloooooo?” Martin called.

“I … I need to tend to some things. How about if we talk tomorrow?”

Martin said something she didn’t really hear before she said goodbye and disconnected the call.

She unfolded the green stationery first and glanced to the end.

From Dorcas?

She returned to the top of the page and began reading.

Hannah,

You cannot imagine how much I do not want to write this letter. I’ve wished you weren’t in Paul’s life since the day I learned of you. I wanted Paul to feel toward me the things he wrote in this letter to you. But if love never fails, it seems self-interest is doomed to fail—and now I hold less of his heart than I thought possible.

When you left, he debated over what to do and decided to give you time to return on your own. Whenever he wavered in that decision, I encouraged him to stay the course. He waited for you. And I never told him you called. He waited until he saw you in Ohio with a man he thought to be your husband. And a week later you returned, and he began falling for you again. Perhaps you’ve truly moved on and I’m only making things worse, but I felt I had to make sure you knew everything, which is what I should have done for both of you to begin with.

Please forgive me,
Dorcas

With temptation to read his letter pounding, she felt guilt close in around her. Reading Paul’s letter would do nothing but cause her mayhem. In the tumultuous quiet, an image of Kevin and Lissa filled her, and she was absolutely confident what had to be done. She put Dorcas’s letter with Paul’s and slid them back into the larger envelope. With her voice screaming inside her, she ignored the desire to read his letter and walked to the trash can. But her fingers wouldn’t let it go.

He’d written to her in love and waited more than two years for her to return. Was she really going to throw all the sincerity he’d poured onto paper into the garbage?

“God, help me.”

But He didn’t. She felt no added strength to release the letter and no freedom to read it. Paul’s words from two weeks ago rang inside her head:
Come on, Hannah. How great can your relationship with Martin be if …

Her need to protect herself from Paul wasn’t just about Martin and her. It was about Kevin and Lissa. She wouldn’t abandon them. Couldn’t. Their dad had, and a few months later their mother had too. Hannah wouldn’t add to that rejection. Besides, Martin wasn’t likely even to have Kevin and Lissa if she hadn’t pushed and prodded him. She couldn’t ever turn her back on any of them and still be able to find any part of herself. Dropping the letter into the trash can, she felt her chest constrict. Ignoring the feeling, she went into the bedroom. The mirror that hung on the back of the door caught her eye, and she gazed at herself. The only thing she’d ever wanted was a life with Paul Waddell. That’s all. Tears stung her eyes, and without changing clothes, she flicked off the light and crawled into bed.

All Dorcas had managed to do was make the hurt worse. Willing herself to sleep, Hannah closed her eyes. Hours passed, and her desire to read the letter only grew. The temptation to feel some part of what she would have felt then embarrassed her. Disgusted with herself, she eased her legs over the side of the bed and sat up.

She could tear it up or burn it, but she figured that would only cause the longing to mutate into a regret she could never undo. She swallowed hard. This was ridiculous. There was no way she could ignore the letter. If it lay in the trash for a thousand years, she’d still know he’d written it and waited for her.

Wasn’t her fear of facing the truth most of what had destroyed them to begin with?

She’d feared what he’d think of her if he learned she’d been raped and later was pregnant, so she tried to hide both. She’d feared watching him fall in love with someone else and have children with her, so she ran. She’d feared if she stood before him vulnerable, he’d reach out to her in pity, so she didn’t give him the chance. She’d feared if they worked through everything else, she’d tear him from his family, and his life would never be healed again.

Darkness cloaked the room, and she longed for rays of the new day to come, but there were still two hours of nighttime ahead. Sick of how she’d let fear rule her, she went to the kitchen, flicked on the light, and moved to the trash can. She lifted the envelope from the trash bag, noticing it was wet from sharing space with a used coffee filter. She pulled the white envelope from the manila one. It was slightly damp, and the color of the wet coffee grounds had seeped through. Dorcas had kept it pristine for more than three years, but Hannah had already managed to stain it.

Feeling as if she messed up everything she touched, she sat down, slid the letter out, and opened it.

Dear Hannah,

I’ve waited so long to get to share how I really feel. My heart is so full now that you’ve agreed to be my wife. Tonight my family had a party, and I could only dream of having you by my side. Sharing your love and laughter is my deepest desire, and I can’t wait for the many gatherings of friends and family in the future when we can be together as man and wife.

I know you are worried about your family and what will happen, but I’m convinced we can work through any struggle and overcome anything or anyone that would separate us. I will do everything I can to win them over.

There are so many unique parts to you, my Lion-heart. I know you can’t see it and don’t even want me saying it, but I realized it the first day I saw you at Gram’s, tending to all the meals for the workers. Just a thought of you brings back a dozen memories of who you are and who we are together. And I don’t want you to bury your gifts and talents to be only a helpmate to me. My dream is that we both aim to be exactly who God called us to be. I don’t think He stocked you with talents so they would rust or get buried while you play a dutiful wife.