Sisters of the Quilt Trilogy (11 page)

Luke grabbed the sides of the carriage. Pain seared through him, and he fell to his knees. His right arm had no strength. Furthermore, it seemed to be draining his whole being of its power.

Staggering to his feet, he tried to think. The overturned buggy was angled toward the downward slope of the ditch, causing leverage and gravity to work against him. He squatted, placing his left shoulder under the side of the coach, and pushed with all the strength he could muster. The carriage didn’t budge. He was too weak to lift the weight off Mary.

Mary moaned. “Luke.”

He turned to see her reaching for him. He knelt, brushing back the tall grasses around her face. “Hold on. I’ll get help.”

He studied the fields and roads. The accident had occurred so far away from any main streets, no one would have seen or heard the collision. And no one would miss them for hours.

A gentle brush against his leg jolted his attention back to Mary. “Listen to me.” Her faint voice brought tears to his eyes. He bent closer, and she reached for his face. “I have loved you for as long as I can remember, Luke. We would have made a
gut
family,
ya
?”

“Mary, don’t talk like that. We
will
make a
gut
family. You’ll see. I …” Luke wanted to promise her she’d live and all would be set right, but he knew better than to cross that line. It wasn’t within his power to make such things happen.

Caressing his face, she whispered, “Don’t you ever forget, you’re the best catch around. You’ll find someone else.”

“No. Do you hear me? I said no!”

Her hand fell from his face, and her eyes closed. He clasped her hand in his. It felt lifeless and cold.

“Mary?” He patted her cheek. She gave no response. He tried again. “Mary!”

He rested her hand across her chest. Swaying, he stood. After stumbling back to the car, he pushed on the steering wheel, hunting for the horn. When he shoved the silver metal piece, that awful noise blasted through the still night again. On the floorboard he spied a tiny blue telephone. After placing the man’s limp body against the horn, Luke headed for the passenger side. As he rounded the back of the car, he wondered if he would be able to figure out how to use the device. He’d seen people use cell phones but had never tried one. He’d only used a corded touch-tone twice in his life.

After opening the car door, he grabbed the phone. He moved in front of the headlights and pressed the thing to his ear. No dial tone. He remembered the day a couple of local firefighters had come to his school and, among other things, said that in an emergency a person needed to get to a phone and dial 911. He pushed those numbers. Each time he pressed a button, an odd electronic sound chirped. But no sound came out of the earpiece.

He gazed across the field, screaming, “Somebody help us. Please.”

Looking back at the cell phone, Luke saw the light on the screen go out. He put the device to his ear. Still no sound. He punched the buttons again. The numbers illuminated. Now the screen read 911911. He pressed every button, but nothing helped.

Luke tossed the phone onto the car seat. He stumbled back to Mary and sat on the dirt beside her. When he touched her face, it still held a bit of warmth. Stretching out his legs, he lifted her head and placed it on his lap. Feeling helpless, he brushed wisps of hair from her face. “I don’t know what to do, Mary. I’m so sorry.”

Drops of blood fell onto Mary’s head from somewhere. Luke wiped them off with the palm of his hand. When he looked at his right arm, he saw blood dripping out of the cuff of his long-sleeved jacket. Leaning back, he lay down on the gravelly area. Darkness pulled in on him, and he was unable to resist it. As he closed his eyes, something resembling sleep took over. He could still hear the horn blasting. Maybe someone would come searching for the source of that awful racket.

Drifting into a place he couldn’t pull out of, Luke heard sirens. Car doors slammed. Two voices—a man and a woman—began talking. Luke tried to rouse himself. He ached to yell, “Over here! Come help my beloved Mary!” But no matter how much desire welled up within him, something kept pulling him deeper into nothingness.

“We’ve got a bleeder,” a woman shouted. He heard the sound of scissors working against fabric, then felt his jacket being pulled from his shoulder.

No. Not me. No
.

“Male. Approximately twenty years of age.”

My Mary. Please, save Mary. Can’t you see her?

“It looks like a bone from a compound fracture has nicked the artery in the right arm.”

An awesome feeling, which went beyond the rules of the
Ordnung
, called to him.

Through the silence that continued to envelop him, he heard the faint sound of the woman’s voice.

“I can’t find a pulse.”

T
he Lapp house was silent, with everyone asleep, as Hannah crept to a straight-backed chair on the porch, next to the open front door. If she saw car lights, she’d be in the house with the door locked before the driver could spot her. In spite of her fears, the cool air and the night sky with its shiny jewels staring down ministered to her bruised heart.

For the second time that day, she listened for the sound of hoofbeats against the hard-packed dirt road. The sirens she’d heard earlier bothered her. She knew worry was a sin, but Luke didn’t usually stay out this late. It was past eleven. He’d need to be up milking the cows before he knew it.

The cool air made her shiver. She wrapped the shawl tighter around her. No doubt she wasn’t the only one in love. Luke probably fell just short of worshiping Mary. With love like that, he’d draw plenty of strength to sustain him through his workday tomorrow, no matter how little sleep he got.

In spite of not hearing from Paul, she had begun to feel her sanity trickling back. Although the moments were rare, they brought enough relief to comfort her. She had to find her way out of this embarrassing, angry, painful fog she was living in.

Having a shunned aunt in Ohio made her curious if her aunt ever felt some of the same things she did. Somehow that thought helped her, and she began to wonder what her aunt was like.

A single moving light on the road caught her attention, and she quickly dismissed her daydreams. The glow was coming from a kerosene lantern on an open buggy. A tiny laugh escaped her. The horse was trotting at an incredible gait. After whiling away the hours with Mary, Luke was trying to make double time coming home.

As the courting buggy came closer, Hannah could see it wasn’t being pulled by their old mare. She stood and walked to the edge of the porch. When the carriage came into clear sight, she recognized its occupant.

Matthew Esh
.

Concern slid up her spine. Why was he heading away from his home and at such a speed at this time of night?

Matthew stopped the buggy and gave his warm smile. “You’re up awful late.”

“I was hoping Luke would be home before now.”

“Ah.” Matthew propped his foot on the side of the cart. “I saw
Mr. Lapp
and
Miss Yoder
a good bit earlier. They were moseying ’round outside our district.”

His jovial tone caught Hannah off guard, and she laughed. Only the English called each other by such titles. Amish students called even their teachers by their first names. But their relaxed ways about names didn’t apply when they were talking to or about the English.

Matthew’s horse snorted, drawing Hannah’s attention to the gorgeous creature pulling the cart. “You got a new horse,
ya
?”

“I bought him at auction last week, thinkin’ I could turn a profit. I already sold him to the wealthy folks in Virginia that my brother is building cabinets for. I’m gonna take him to the new owners as soon as the Sabbath is over.”

Hannah couldn’t remember ever seeing such a fine horse. Its body was lean and sinewy. The reddish brown color shimmered even under the cover of night. When Hannah touched its shoulder, she realized she’d come off the porch and was standing beside Matthew’s buggy. She lowered her hand, wondering afresh about her sanity.

Matthew leaned forward. “He’s mesmerizing, no?” The lilt in Matthew’s whisper made her lift her gaze. He held his index finger to his lips. “But if ya say I boasted about the horse, I’ll have to deny it.”

Hannah bit her bottom lip and refused the smile that wanted to be expressed. “Does the new courting buggy go with the horse?”

“Yep. I refinished it myself. Those Virginia people want it as a treat for their fancy inn. The stallion was a racetrack runner, ran well for many years.”

Moving to the front of the horse, Hannah caressed its muzzle. “He’s gorgeous.”

The horse whinnied and tossed his head high in the air.

Matthew chuckled. “I think he agrees with you. But I didn’t know you cared anything for horses.”

“Some things are too striking not to notice. What’s his name?”

“Vento Delicato. It’s Italian for ‘gentle wind.’ With a track record like his, I’d think they could have named him better.”

Hannah murmured to the horse. “Gentle Wind’s not such a bad name.”

Vento Delicato lowered his head and allowed her to stroke his face.

Matthew propped his elbow on his knee. “If you don’t mind me saying, you’re looking a bit down in the mouth these days, Hannah.”

She hated that “if you don’t mind me saying” phrase. When someone said that, a body might as well brace itself to mind whatever was about to be said. Even so, it was wrong of her to carry her sadness for the world to see.

“I … I was … under the weather. I’m feeling better. Thanks.”

Matthew slid forward on the seat. “He won’t get your hands dirty. I spent too much time grooming him before the singing tonight. I got all the loose hair off him I could so it wouldn’t fly off and cling to a girl’s good dre—”

Hannah knew the rest of the sentence. He’d hoped to take a girl home from the singing. More than ever before, she realized the pain of Matthew’s disappointment. Leaving the singings alone time after time had to hurt deeply, causing loneliness to grow unchecked.

Hannah looked down at her clothing. Surprise reverberated through her. She was in her nightgown! Modest as it was, going from her neck to her ankles and down to her elbows, it was still improper. She glanced up at Matthew.

His familiar lopsided grin brought back memories of their school days and softball games. He’d graduated two years before Hannah. But because he’d had to repeat a grade when he was very young, he was three years older than she.

He pointed at her and then the horse. “Obviously one of you is too gussied up for the occasion.”

Suppressing a smile, Hannah mocked, “Are ya saying I’m not dressed well enough to be standing beside your horse?”

“If the brand-new horseshoe fits, Hannah Lapp …”

Quiet snickers erupted from both of them.

“Would you like to see how smooth his gait is? It’s like riding on a fast-moving cloud.”

Hannah glanced down at her attire. “I’d better not.”

“If you’re worried that I’ll think this means something, don’t be. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that you’re more interested in my horse than any single guy around here.”

She studied him.

He shrugged. “At least you picked the finest horse.”

His relaxed posture and easy talk were refreshing after the misery of the past few weeks. She had a strong hankering to climb into the carriage and see what this horse could do. But first she’d need to change out of her nightgown.

“Can you wait a minute?”

Matthew held up his hand. “Just a dart down the private path on the other side of the barn. It’ll take less than five minutes.” He spread his fingers apart, signaling five. “If ya go change, you’ll likely wake someone, and then you’ll never get a chance to see how riding with this race-winning stallion feels.”

The horse bobbed its head up and down. Matthew motioned toward Vento. “See, even he agrees.”

Hannah glanced back at her lifeless house. Everyone was sound asleep, and they’d be back awful quick like. Vento stomped his foot and shook his mane as if telling her to give him a try. Eager to give life another chance, Hannah clutched her shawl with one hand. “Let’s see how this gentle wind rides.” Grabbing the buggy handle, Hannah pulled herself aboard.

Matthew gave the signal, and the stallion took off. The force of the forward movement made them fall back against the seat. Their laughter erupted, and the negative thoughts that had haunted her for a month finally gave way to positive ones.

Surely Paul would write her soon. He had to be terribly swamped at school. He’d told her they only had to get through this year, and then he’d work for her father until they had his blessing. She took a deep cleansing breath. Paul had no way of knowing her world had been shattered, and he couldn’t be held responsible for being busy with his last year of schooling and … What did he call that other thing? Oh yes, internship. He was also busy doing that.

The wheels to the carriage left the ground as they rolled over an in-ground rock. Hannah grabbed the seat on each side of her. Both she and Matthew burst out laughing. Feeling exhilarated, she sensed faith in the future beginning to stir within her.

Sarah stood on her tiptoes, peering out the bedroom window as her sister climbed into a buggy with a man. All Sarah could see of the driver was the top of his straw hat.

Hannah Lapp, you’re a liar
.

Hannah had everyone doing all her work because she was too tired. Sarah clenched her fists so tight her arms tingled with numbness. She’d spent all day at that awful Mrs. Waddell’s, and for what? So Hannah could traipse around the countryside at all hours in her nightdress? The bishop would hear about this.

The congregation was told regularly not to cause trouble by confronting someone. If there was a questionable issue, it was to be brought to the bishop, and he’d sort things out. If need be, he’d do it without ever saying who told him. And he could approach people confidentially. If they repented, no one else even need know about the event.

Then again, maybe she didn’t want to keep this quiet. It irked her to no end how Hannah always managed to sponge up everyone’s admiration;
Daed, Mamm
, and even Luke seemed to think she was some kind of Amish superhero or something. Levi wasn’t as bad about it as everyone else, but even he thought Hannah could bake, sew, and take care of the young’uns better than she could, which just plain out wasn’t true.

It would serve her sister right if they all knew the real Hannah. Why, if
Daed
and
Mamm
knew their daughter was gadding about like this, Sarah would never again have to hear her father say that she needed to be more like Hannah.

A shudder of excitement ran through her. Maybe this was more than just a way to open her parents’ eyes. Maybe it was what Sarah had been looking for ever since Jacob Yoder had taken to noticing Hannah over her. Why, Sarah’d had her eye on Jacob for more than a year, but of late the only Lapp he ever noticed at the meeting place was Hannah.

Sarah figured that whenever her sister went to Mary’s house, she was warming herself up to Jacob. The very thought made Sarah so mad she sometimes thought she hated her own sister. She’d told Hannah a long time ago how she felt about Jacob. Hannah had given her word she wasn’t interested in him. But Sarah wasn’t a fool. Jacob hadn’t shifted his attention to Hannah for no reason. His interest in her would end quickly if he knew about tonight.

Still, Sarah couldn’t be the one to tell him. He might take offense, saying she was a tattletale. There had to be a way for her parents—and Jacob Yoder—to know about this without anyone thinking less of her for it.

Hearing the sound of buggy wheels against the road, Sarah realized they’d returned. Wanting accurate details, Sarah took notice of everything she could. She had never seen a horse like that within her community, nor had she seen that courting gig. It wasn’t either Old Order Amish or Old Order Mennonite. As a matter of fact, it looked like some type of commercial rig, used for touristy stuff. If that was true, the driver probably wasn’t Amish or Mennonite. He was more than likely English. Oh, this was getting better and better. But why would an English boy be out at this time of night?

She watched Hannah climb out of the buggy. Her sister must’ve made some English friends from the hired workers Mrs. Waddell took on during the summer months. This man probably drove a tourist buggy for a living and wore that straw hat to make himself look more authentic for his customers.

Sarah would bet this wasn’t the first time Hannah had pulled such a stunt. No wonder her sister was always looking for mail to come to Mrs. Waddell’s. She had an English beau she needed to hear from in order to make her sneaky plans. Sarah huffed. Hannah out taking rides and whooping it up with a man while pretending to be sick. Sarah would get her back just as soon as she could speak with the bishop without anyone else knowing. If telling the bishop didn’t get this piece of news to her parents and Jacob Yoder, she would figure out another way. She was sick of playing second best to the likes of such a liar as her sister.