Sisters of the Quilt Trilogy (17 page)

Hannah jolted and released him. Without another word, Paul disappeared down the hallway just as Becky rounded the corner.

A
sigh escaped Hannah’s lips. Darkness seemed to surround her like billows of toxic fumes. She hadn’t come clean with Paul. What would happen if he figured out that she was keeping secrets from him?

If that unmentionable night wasn’t so humiliating, she might find the courage to tell him. But which was worse—Paul knowing nothing, leaving her to pretend she was fine, or his knowing the truth? She ached for the peace and freedom that would come only if there were no secrets between them. But there was no way to know if he could handle finding out about the rape unless she told him about it.

I wish I could just vanish for a while and hide out while I think this through. Maybe go to Ohio. How hard would it be to find Aunt Zabeth?

But then Paul came back to mind, and the thought of fleeing to Ohio lost all its luster. He’d looked so good last night, his touch making life seem worth its troubles. She wished that she hadn’t cried through most of his visit. The nightmare of her attack had to be put behind her, or it was going to ruin everything.

After being pulled one way and then the other, in a moment of clarity she realized a truth. Carrying the weight of silence was certainly not the worst thing that could happen. The worst tragedy of all would be to lose Paul.

Hannah leaned against the windowsill of Mary’s fifth-floor room. The fresh rays of daylight filtered through the glass as Mary slept fitfully. Becky was down in billing, taking care of whatever it was that needed taking care of in order for Mary to leave the hospital today.

The door to the room opened. Dr. Greenfield stepped inside, holding two plastic foam cups on top of a large hardback book. Hannah had to smile. Their friendship was fleeting and sometimes awkward, but he seemed to be a truly genuine person.

He shoved the door closed with his foot. “I was hoping for a minute with you before Mary’s release.” He held the book toward her.

Hannah took the cup closest to her, surveying its steaming contents. “Hot chocolate?”

“You’re too young for coffee.” He smiled, lifting the cup of coffee to his lips with one hand and holding the book toward her with the other. “This is for you. It’s about anatomy and how the body works. I think your family will allow you to have this since, among other things, it explains what to expect during a woman’s recuperation from a subdural hematoma. I think you’ll find it quite helpful as you work with Mary.”

She grasped the book and opened it. An outline of a human body stared back at her. Dr. Greenfield reached across and turned a clear page, laying it on top of the nondescript image. The clear page revealed the vital organs and the veins and arteries running throughout the body. Beside the organs were lines with numbers.

“Ach, wie wunderbaar.”

“Excuse me?”

Hannah looked up, embarrassed at her lack of manners. “Forgive me. I … I said it’s wonderful.”

He beamed at her. “It’s an overlay. There are several of them.” He turned to another page. “This one shows the respiratory system.” He flipped a few more pages and then stopped at solid white ones covered in typed print. “This part explains what you’re looking at.”

Hannah slid her hand over the silky page. “This is amazing.” She looked up. “Thank you.”

Dr. Greenfield nodded. “You’re welcome.” He took a pen from his pocket and held his hand out for the book. She passed it to him. He wrote on the inside of the back cover. “I know getting to a phone is problematic for you. Nonetheless, if you ever need anything, this is the number for my answering service. Just tell them who you are, and they’ll reach me. It might be a few hours before I get the message, depending on where I am and what I’m doing at the time. But I promise I’ll return your call ASAP.”

She watched him write in her new book and had to squelch the desire to tell him not to. Books were too special to be written in. “ASAP?”

“As soon as possible.”

Hannah grinned. “Ah.” She was going to miss talking with someone as good-humored and open-minded as Dr. Greenfield.

He closed the book and handed it to her. “The nurse will be in shortly to change Mary’s bandage. Then she’ll be released. You should already have all the instructions for her care, but if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to call the number the nurse gave you.” He strode out the door.

She opened her new book and began devouring the pages.

A crackling noise made her stop reading and look up. Edie Walls, one of the young nurses, stood there with a cup pressed against her lips. She lowered the cup, crunching on ice. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to disturb you.” She set the cup on the side table. “Ice chips. It’s the best thing I’ve found for morning sickness.” She opened a drawer in the table beside the bed and pulled out a roll of gauze and tape. “Morning sickness is a stupid thing to call it, though. When I was pregnant with my first child, I only felt nauseated in the evening. With this one, I’m sick all day every day. And then I’m so tired.”

Nausea and tiredness
. Hannah had felt that way for weeks. But there were so many odors around here, and she hadn’t slept decently in forever, and—

“But that’s not the worst part.” Edie unrolled a long piece of gauze. “Why, my emotions are such a roller-coaster ride, they’re driving me nuts.”

Blood rushed to Hannah’s temple. Was that the reason her feelings were going in every direction at once?

No, it couldn’t be.

Pregnant?
Surely that couldn’t be the reason for the feelings of nausea and sickness. She was just stressed and—

Edie pulled a pair of scissors from her pocket. “The first time I was pregnant, I couldn’t stand the idea of eating anything those first few weeks.”

The book fell from Hannah’s hand. Her arms and legs felt too heavy for her body.

From the outermost part of her peripheral vision, blackness closed in. It gradually blocked out the room as well as Edie.

Hannah felt Edie’s hand under her forearm. Edie was saying something, but Hannah couldn’t make out her words.

God!
The words screamed inside her.
Please. Please. Noooooooo
. Her heart raced as the continual cry rang out in her soul.

It couldn’t be.

It couldn’t.

“Hannah? Can you hear me?” Edie took her by the shoulders and eased her to the floor. “Hannah, lie back. Help is on the way.”

Edie held Hannah’s ankles, keeping her feet and legs slightly elevated. Some sense of reality flowed back into her. Terror and chills ran throughout her body. Fighting to gain control, she jerked her feet loose and sat up.

“I … I’m fine.” She wasn’t. But no one could help her. Hannah turned, placing her hands on the seat of the chair behind her, and pushed herself upright. On wavering legs, she made her way to the door.

In the hallway a woman took her by the arm and spoke to her. Hannah couldn’t make out what she said. Pulling free, she ran to the stairwell. The door closed behind her, thudding loudly. She flew down one flight of steps before stopping. She leaned against the wall, gasping for air.

A moment later the stairwell door above her burst open, and Edie barged in. When she spotted Hannah, she scurried down the steps. The blank look on her face said that she had no idea what to do or say.

Hannah’s vision blurred as someone else clomped down the steps.

“What happened?”

With her back against the wall, Hannah slid to a sitting position on the cold tile floor. She wrapped her arms around her knees and buried her face. A pair of large hands took one of her arms and held it. Velcro ripped, her arm was covered with a band, and the strap was tightened. It loosened. Stayed loose for a while. Then tightened again.

“What happened right before she began blacking out?” The voice sounded like Dr. Greenfield’s but different … sterner. She didn’t want to see him.

Then again, who better? But how would she ever explain …

“We were talking,” Edie said. “That’s all.”

“About?”

Hannah’s chin was gently lifted and the back of her head pressed against the wall. She felt what had to be a stethoscope roam over her chest.

“Can’t hear much of anything through all these layers of clothes,” the man mumbled.

“Actually, now that I think about it, I was doing all the talking. I was telling her about being pregnant and how ice chips help me feel less nauseated.”

Determined to get out of there, Hannah pushed the hand holding the stethoscope away from her. She ripped the Velcro loose from its grip and slid the cuff off her arm. Bracing herself against the wall, she tried to stand. A strong hand helped her to her feet.

“Let’s get you to the ER, Hannah.” Dr. Greenfield placed his hand under her forearm, steadying her.

She shook her head, desperate to get away. “I’m fine. I need air. That’s all.” She pulled away from his grip. “Leave me alone. Please.”

With his hand under her arm, supporting her, Dr. Greenfield led Hannah outdoors like a child. The cool fall air, mixed with the smells of automobiles, whipped against her face. She eased her arm out of his grip and followed the sidewalk away from the hospital to a private nook between two wings of the building. Shaking, without any power to stop, Hannah sat on a gray stone bench that doubled as a retaining wall for plants.

Dr. Greenfield sat beside her and took her wrist, pressing his fingers against her pulse. “I’d really like you to be checked out.”

She barely shook her head and managed a whisper. “No.”

Patches of puffy clouds moved across the sky, transforming shapes as quickly and easily as life altered. If she really was pregnant, Paul must never find out.
Never
. Maybe she wasn’t. Maybe what happened to her wasn’t how women got pregnant. How would she know? The subject was forbidden.

She hated that man. Hated him. Images of slashing a knife across his belly flooded her. But the fury would do her no good. She was powerless on all sides. She didn’t know who he was.

Dr. Greenfield placed his forearms on his legs and leaned forward, his gaze never leaving her face.

Hannah swallowed. She had to know if she might be pregnant. And she had no one better to ask. “The Amish don’t talk about … certain things.”

“I’ll talk to you about anything you want to know.”

She shifted, turning away slightly. There was no way she could ask him this. “Never mind.”

“Hannah, Edie says she was telling you about her pregnancy. Is there something about that conversation that caused your reaction?”

Hannah shrugged and gave a slight nod.

“Is that a yes?”

She nodded.

“Are you pregnant?”

Hannah closed her eyes. “I … I don’t know.”

Dr. Greenfield’s face didn’t change a bit. “But there’s a chance you’re pregnant—is that it?”

“I … I don’t know.”

“You don’t know if you’re pregnant, or you don’t know how someone gets that way?”

Hannah could feel her cheeks burning.

“I’m going to take a shot in the dark here and tell you how a woman conceives.” With a voice as kind and gentle as she’d ever heard, he told her all she needed to know.

It made perfect sense. She lived on a farm, for heaven’s sake, with livestock that were bred. But somehow understanding how women became pregnant had eluded her. Feelings of embarrassment were so thick she thought her heart would stop beating right then.

She cleared her throat. “And if … if someone is … overpowered … forced to … can she still get pregnant?”

“Hannah, if this happened to you, you need to see a doctor and the police.”

“No.” Her voice shook.

He drew a deep breath. “Yes, a woman can conceive a child even then.”

She rose. “Mary’s probably been released by now. Her mother will be searching for me. Thank you, Dr. Greenfield.” She eased one foot in front of the other, taking several shaky steps.

“Hannah, wait.” In one quick movement, he stood in front of her. “What can I do to help you? What will you let me do?”

The compassion in his voice touched a place deep inside her. She stared at the stethoscope dangling around his neck. “There’s nothing to do.” Her jaws ached. Her eyes burned. Why couldn’t the earth just open and swallow her? “Who knows? Maybe I’m jumping to conclusions.”

“It’s possible. Trauma causes a woman’s body to do odd things: feel nauseated, skip cycles, have panic attacks. It can even result in chemical changes in the brain that can send a person into severe depression. But if you’re having those symptoms and pregnancy isn’t the cause …”

She touched the sides of her
Kapp
, making sure it was in place.

“Hannah, I know a woman doctor who works exclusively with females. She’s gentle and understanding. She can at least confirm whether or not you’re—”

“Please don’t,” Hannah interrupted him. “I’m going home and pray for the best.”

Dr. Greenfield put one hand on her shoulder, gazing into her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hannah!”
Daed’s
voice made her jump. Dr. Greenfield immediately removed his hand and pulled away from her.

She turned toward the voice and saw her father standing at the T in the sidewalk, the bishop right beside him. The looks on their faces were a mixture of bewilderment and accusation. Dr. Greenfield leaned in close behind her. “We aren’t finished talking yet, Hannah.”