Sisters of the Quilt Trilogy (24 page)

The pony trotted across the top of the ridge and into the Yoders’ barnyard before Matthew brought the rig to a stop. “I’m glad you got to meet Elle.”

Hannah climbed out of the cart. “Me too. But remember what I said about that midnight ride. Just don’t tell anyone it was you, and your relationship with Elle won’t feel any strain from the rumors.”

Matthew shrugged as he scanned the yards. “Looks like Mary had more
Englischers
come visit.”

Paul was backing Gram’s car out of the driveway.

Hannah’s heart jerked inside her chest.

P
aul pulled onto the paved road, disappointment so thick he couldn’t think. Maybe it would be better if Gram drove, since he was almost blind with disappointment. All his weeks of planning ruined, and because he hadn’t seen her today, he probably wouldn’t have the chance to see her over Thanksgiving either. He doubted he could change his dad’s mind about leaving the state for the Christmas holidays. After disappointing his father with how little he’d been home over the past few years, he couldn’t refuse his father’s gift of a family vacation at the beach. Besides being rude, it would cause a rift between them, and he needed his father on his side during the lengthy spell to win the approval of Hannah’s family.

Paul sighed. He didn’t know when he’d been more aggravated. Now he might not see Hannah until May. Would she continue to wait for him through all these unforeseen obstacles? Another angry sigh escaped his lips. May was too far away. Something had to be done.

He glanced at his grandmother. “Gram, you’ve got to help me get a letter to Hannah.”

Gram’s soft wrinkles seemed to droop more than normal these days. He figured she was missing Hannah as much as he was. Hannah was one of the few people who managed to ignore his grandmother’s curtness and stubbornness. Gram could hire laborers left and right, but she couldn’t pay someone to truly care. Hannah always cared.

Gram harrumphed. “I can’t, Paul. I came here today. That will have to be enough.”

He squeezed the steering wheel. “Please, Gram. Surely you can pass her one letter.”

She shook her head. “I promised …” Gram dropped her sentence, squirming uncomfortably against the bucket seat.

Paul stopped the car, not caring that he was in the middle of the road. “Go on.”

The lines on Gram’s face stiffened. “You two will be fine … if you’re supposed to be. That’s all there is to it.”

“Who did you promise that you wouldn’t pass letters to Hannah?” Paul stage-whispered the words in an effort to remain gentle and respectful with his grandmother. There were only a few people who would ask for a promise like this from his grandmother: Hannah’s father, her mother, or one of her older brothers. Paul decided to go with the most likely person. “Did her father come to see you?”

Gram didn’t move a muscle. “She is his daughter, Paul. And whether you believe this or not, he has more rights over Hannah’s life than you.”

A deep disappointment stabbed him in the center of his chest. Mr. Lapp wasn’t supposed to know, not yet. Not until Hannah was legally an adult so she couldn’t get into too much trouble with her father. “What did he say?”

The sternness on her face softened as her eyes glistened with tears. Paul realized he’d been putting her in a tug of war for months by wanting one thing from her while Hannah’s father demanded another.

She pulled a handkerchief out of her purse and dabbed at her eyes. “It came to his attention that Hannah had been waiting on letters to come to my house for her. Her father suspects there’s an
Englischer
or Mennonite working for me who is tempting his daughter away from where God has placed her. He didn’t ask for specific information, and I offered none. I did, however, agree not to allow any more letters.” She shoved the hanky back into her purse. “Paul, I’m sorry, but the man has good points. She’s his daughter, and by English laws she’s a minor.” She clapped her hands and motioned for Paul to get the car moving.

He eased his foot onto the gas pedal, driving without noticing much of anything. “How did he learn of the letters?”

“I think Sarah told him.”

So even her sister was against him and Hannah being together. The magnitude of all that was against them settled heavily onto his shoulders.

Gram rubbed her forehead. “When Hannah got sick right after you left, Sarah started coming in her stead. She asked me if I had any letters for Hannah. My guess is that Hannah must have asked her to pick up anything that came to me for her.”

Coming to a stop sign, Paul brought the car to a halt. “So her father is going behind her back to end things. This isn’t good. I wanted a chance to earn his respect.”

Gram glowered at him. “Kinda hard to earn respect when you’re sneaking around behind the man’s back.”

Paul accelerated too quickly, causing the tires to squeal. “I don’t know what else to do, Gram. Let her go when that’s not what either of us wants? I mean, if God’s Word said something against two people who love Him falling in love, then I’d back off.”

Hannah stood by the side of the road, watching Gram’s car disappear around a curve. She was so tired of life not being fair that she could crawl in a hole and stay there. She waited, hoping Paul would spot her in the rearview mirror. But as the car disappeared around a bend, her heart sank. She turned and trudged back up the driveway.

She heard a horse exhale and looked up. Matthew had ridden from the barnyard and down the driveway.

He stood beside the buggy, holding up the sack containing the honey jars. “You forgot the honey.”

She reached for the bag. “Thanks.” Holding the honey against her chest, she faced into the wind and took a deep breath, trying desperately to get a hold on her emotions.

Matthew motioned toward the paved road. “I take it whoever was in that car is the reason you don’t mess with singings.”

Hannah closed her eyes, weary of secrets, half truths, and slinking through life as if she was a sinner. Even Matthew didn’t understand. She saw it in his eyes. In spite of Elle’s background, he didn’t understand that all she wanted was a life with Paul. That’s all.

The wind thrashed against her cheeks as thunder rumbled and a streak of lightning shot across the sky. She wished it were possible for the wind to snatch her up and land her in a place where life wasn’t a constant choosing of sides.

“You’d better go on in, Matthew. The rains will be here before you get to the edge of the field.” Hannah took the pony by the harness. “Go on in. I’ll put the rig in the barn and the pony in a stall. When the storm blows over, you can go home.”

Matthew surveyed the skies while grabbing his crutches and getting out of the wagon.

Before he could say another word, Hannah led the pony into the barn. As she unhitched the animal from the carriage, a delicious new thought danced into her mind. Maybe, just maybe she could use the Yoders’ phone to call Paul. She had no idea why she hadn’t thought of it before. Maybe because using the phone for the first time earlier today had made her realize how easy it was to place a call. Excitement pulsed through her.

As she put the pony in a stall, another round of thunder clapped, vibrating the air around her. The fast-paced clops of a horse heading in her direction made her quickly fasten the stall gate and rush to the door of the barn.

Luke
.

Looking pale with worry, he came to a halt just outside the barn and slid off the horse. Holding the reins, he sprinted into the shelter. “How is Mary?”

“Still asleep as far as I know.”
Becky would be calling for me if she weren’t
.

He thrust the reins toward her. “Edna said she had some sort of spell today.”

“A tiny one.” Hannah took the leather straps, knowing he intended for her to walk the horse until it was cool and to rub the sweat-soaked creature down. “We just need to make sure she has less excitement and no hint of discord with anyone.” She patted the horse’s neck, feeling the sweat on the beast. “She’s never been one to cope well with gossip, and a quilting is not the place for her right now.”

Between his concern for Mary and the brewing storm, Hannah knew her brother would be staying the night. With Luke there, hopes of sneaking out long enough to call Paul faded. She grabbed a sackcloth and started drying the horse’s neck.

Luke struck a match and lit a kerosene lamp. “That’s why she didn’t want to come to the farm without you the night of the accident; she was afraid it’d stir unfounded gossip about us.”

“She didn’t want to be the target of speculation where you were concerned.” She hung the damp sack on the rail and grabbed a dry one.

“Ach,”
he growled. “So it’s my fault?”

“That’s not what I was trying to say. Luke, I … I’m sorry I didn’t go with you that night. Really I am.” Hannah could only take his word for how her decision to stay home had resulted in their accident.

“Bein’ sorry doesn’t fix a thing, now does it? She’s your best friend, Hannah. You knew how she felt about being seen with me on our property without you there to make it look like friends spending time together. You knew!” Luke turned his back on her and dashed for the house.

Large drops of rain pelted the tin roof. Hannah swiped the cloth over the other side of the horse. Luke’s words could only hurt her so deep this time. His resentment against her was ridiculous. He had told Mary he forgave the man driving the car that hit them. So why couldn’t Luke forgive his own sister? She was fast becoming weary of her brother. He was too much like her father—pleasant to those he agreed with, angry and demanding with those he didn’t.

Longing to talk to someone who truly knew her welled in her heart. She had to call Paul, regardless of Luke’s presence. Maybe now was the best time, while they thought she was tending to the animals. Hannah hurried to finish this chore so she could steal around the back way to the phone. If only she could hear his voice, she could endure until Christmas.

As she tossed feed into a trough, she noticed John Yoder’s horse penned up for the night. The men and boys of the Yoder family must have returned from their hunt and from school while she was at the Esh place. Her stomach growled. It was past time for supper, and she hadn’t had lunch.

She turned off the kerosene lamp and shut the barn door behind her. Standing under the eaves of the barn, she plotted the best route to the phone without anyone seeing her. Having settled on a course that went behind trees and bushes, she took off running.

Shaking from apprehension as well as the cold rain, Hannah yanked open the shanty door. She dialed 411 and asked for the phone number of Edgar Waddell, Gram’s late husband. Using the paper and pen that lay beside the phone, Hannah soon had the number in hand. There was no way to deny that there were things about the modern world she liked. Feeling triumphant for the first time in forever, she dialed Gram’s number.

When the phone was picked up quickly, she was sure it would be Paul.

“Hello,” Gram said.

It was good to hear the woman’s voice. “Hi, Gram. This is Hannah. The Yoders got a phone shanty, and … is … is Paul there?”

“No, dear. I guess Becky told you we came by her place, but he left as soon as he dropped me off. How are you feeling these days?”

Groping to find her voice, Hannah murmured a few niceties in order to answer her and hung up the phone.

She leaned her head against a wall of the tiny booth, aching to hear Paul’s voice.

Between her miserable sorrow and the wet clothes that clung to her, Hannah shivered hard. She closed the shanty door behind her and headed around the back side of the house. The downpour had ceased, leaving only a light mist.

Her body ached from the day’s events, and the hopelessness in her heart only added to her discomforts. As the wet clothes clung to her physical body, the aches and pains of the past few months clung to her soul, dragging her into ever-deeper waters.

She heard an automobile rumble on the paved road some twenty feet away. Hannah scurried into the shadows. A horn gave a short toot, and lights flashed. She turned. Through the misting night, she saw an old, midnight blue truck. The door opened, and Paul jumped out. He hustled toward her as if he’d caught a glimpse of her before she had retreated to the shadows. The sight of him in blue jeans and a button-down shirt running toward her was almost more than her knees could take. She ran down the hill and threw her arms around his neck. His strong grip lifted her off the ground and held her.

He nuzzled against her neck, even planting a kiss on her cold, damp skin. Her arms tightened.
Oh, please, tell me I’m not dreaming
.

He set her feet on the ground. His hands moved to her face, cradling it. She gazed at him intently, expecting him to speak. Slowly a smile eased his tense features, and she heard him draw a heavy breath. He lowered his face until his lips touched hers. Warmth and power swept through her. She had no idea a kiss felt like this. Desperate to bury all the pain her family had heaped on her, she reveled in the magnitude of Paul’s touch. She kissed him, not wanting to ever stop.