Sisters of the Quilt Trilogy (43 page)

S
et on seeing Elle Leggett first thing today, Matthew climbed into the buggy and pulled to a stop in front of his home to wait for his brothers. If he didn’t get some time with Elle this morning before she began teaching, his heart might fail him—right there in the schoolyard in front of everyone.

“Peter! David!
Loss uns geh!
” He should’ve have ridden there by himself rather than let Mamm talk him into giving his younger brothers a ride to school. He pulled a pair of work gloves out of his coat pocket. So it was cold. If they didn’t hurry up, he’d let them walk.

“Kummet mol!”
he bellowed.

David moseyed out the front door, pulling on his winter coat. “We’re coming. Hold your horses. I mean horse.”

Nothing was the least bit humorous to Matthew right now. He wanted to see his girl.

David knelt on the porch and tied his shoes. Peter ran out the door, panting, carrying two brown-bag lunches. “Sorry. I didn’t realize you wanted to leave this early today.” He dropped one of the lunches next to David. “Forget this?”

“Oh, ya. I’d miss that about lunchtime, huh?” David climbed into the buggy.

Peter jostled into his spot on the bench seat. “Elle would share her lunch with you. She’s a real nice teacher.”

Matthew tapped the reins against the horse’s back and clicked his tongue. “Geh.”

The horse plodded forward.

David shoved his lunch bag between his feet on the floorboard. “Yeah, she’d share it with any student. Can’t say she’d do the same for you, Matthew.”

David squirmed around to face him. “So, why’s our teacher so frosty whenever your name comes up lately? I thought ya were her beau.”

“Just ride.” Matthew flicked the reins, stepping up the pace of his horse.

The chaos that had led to Hannah’s departure made him unable to keep up with what was happening in Elle’s life, but he’d bet she’d heard plenty of rumors about him and Hannah. He slowed the buggy and turned right, entering the long dirt road that led to the one-room schoolhouse.

His last exchange with Elle played through his thoughts. They’d argued over where his loyalties were, with her or with Hannah. He’d ached to climb into the buggy with her and go for a long ride, talking until everything was aired out. But he had agreed to help Hannah leave Owl’s Perch and had to keep that promise first.

Today he had time to talk, if she would listen. Pulling the buggy to a stop beside the schoolhouse, Matthew took note of the smoke coming out of the chimney. Elle’s driver had already dropped her off. He pulled the brake and wrapped the reins around the stob before climbing down. “Get wood from the shed, and stack it on the porch, but don’t come inside until someone else arrives.”

“You and Elle feudin’?” Peter asked.

Without responding, Matthew gathered an armload of wood and strode toward the school. He tapped on the door, giving her warning someone had arrived early, then went inside. Elle was sitting at her desk with a pencil in hand and looked up when he came through the door. She pursed her lips and returned her attention to the papers in front of her.

Matthew made his way to the woodbin. Stalling, he unloaded the split logs one by one, hoping the right words would pop into his head. Brushing the dirt and moss off his hands and into the woodbin, he studied her.

“Elle.” He walked to her desk and waited for her to look up again. She didn’t.

“You got something honest to say, say it.”

“Could you look at me, please?”

She slammed the pencil onto her desk, folded her arms, and looked him dead in the eye. “What am I supposed to think of you never having time for me? Could you just tell me that?”

“Han—”

She rose, toppling her chair backward. Her porcelain skin and reddish hair radiated beauty, even in her anger. “Could we manage one conversation without mentioning Hannah? Just one?”

Matthew had no idea what to say if he wasn’t supposed to mention Hannah’s name along with a list of apologies. He fidgeted with the edge of the student’s desk behind him. “I had to help her, but I care for no girl but you.”

She moved to the side of her desk, just a foot away from him, and sat on it, leaving the toe of her shoe on the floor. Her eyes of lavender mixed with blue, a combination he’d never seen before he met her, were a regular reminder that she hadn’t been born to Amish parents. She played with one of the ties on her prayer Kapp. The way her eyes probed him, looking to understand things she wouldn’t ask aloud, left him no doubt that she still cared deeply.

“See, neither me nor Hannah meant to cau—”

Elle rose and placed her fingers over his mouth. “I don’t want to hear about her.” She whispered the words as her fingertips slid across his lips. Her warm hands moved to his cheeks, and she gently pulled him to her until their lips were a mere inch apart. “I was hoping …”

Matthew clasped his hand around the back of her head, feeling the lump of her hair bun under her prayer Kapp. An image of her without her Kapp, her strawberry blond hair flowing over her shoulders, flashed in his mind’s eye. Of course, for him to see her like that they’d have to be behind locked doors and have taken their marriage vows.

He closed the gap between them until her soft lips brushed against his.

The sound of children approaching made Elle dart from his arms and retreat behind her desk before he had time to react. The door to the schoolhouse flung open, and several children scurried in, chatting feverishly.

Elle ran a finger over her lips. “Yep, that’s what I was hoping for.” She turned to the children and motioned to the pegs on the back wall. “Please put your coats on the pegs and lunches near the stove, and take your seats.”

Matthew chuckled. She went from sounding like his future wife to a schoolteacher as fast as the speed of that opening door.

Aching for another kiss, he moved to the opposite side of her desk and behaved like a visiting adult should, but it wasn’t easy. “How about if you have the driver bring you by the shop after school? I’ll see to it you either get home later or can stay at the Bylers’.”

She picked up her teacher’s attendance book, avoiding looking at him. “Okay. I’ll bring David and Peter with me.”

He turned to leave.

“And Matthew?”

He wheeled around, hoping to see a warm smile, but she was still fiddling with things on her desk.

“The girl we’re not talking about—she left me a letter. It sounds like there was something you haven’t told me.” She lifted both eyebrows, waiting on him to answer.

He gave a slight nod. “We’ll cover
everything
tonight.”

With the bacon frying, coffee perking on the stove, and a huge batch of sticky buns in the oven, Sarah glanced at the kitchen doorway and whispered, “Mamm?”

“Hmm?”

Although she had responded, Sarah knew her mother hadn’t fully come out of that faraway world she lived in lately. Mamm had called Sarah to her bedroom last night, shut the door, and explained things about how a woman conceived and what had taken place that caused Hannah to become pregnant. Her mother’s voice had been but a whisper as tears trailed down her face through the explanation. Then she’d dismissed her daughter without answering the one question that tormented Sarah.

“Mamm.” She said the word more firmly, hoping her mother would break free long enough to talk to her.

“What?”

“Do you really think Hannah’s baby died?”

Moving eggs from the basket to a small container, Mamm answered, “Yes.” She opened the refrigerator and set the eggs in it.

Dread so thick it seemed to be suffocating her wrapped around Sarah. As much as she’d hated her sister, it was too horrid to think she’d given birth to a child who hadn’t survived. That couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t.

It was your own words, Sarah Lapp, that turned Daed and the bishop against your sister
.

She rubbed her temples, trying to clear her head. “But how do you know? I mean, couldn’t she have taken the baby with her?”

Her mother faced her. “I know it’s a nightmare, Sarah, but it’s all true.”

Thoughts tripped one way and then stumbled another, all leading her where she just couldn’t accept the story the Eshes had told them yesterday.

Why, Sarah had seen how that oldest sister of hers had everyone jumping through hoops and doing her chores while she lay around pretending to be sick. With Sarah’s own eyes she saw Hannah climb into a buggy with some man, going off for a joyride at midnight in her nightgown!

Sarah turned the bacon over in the skillet, trying to keep the hot grease from spattering. If Hannah was so sneaky as to use Mrs. Waddell’s place to meet her beau and had sent and received letters for years without anyone in her family knowing, what else was she capable of? Maybe she’d never boarded that train. Was she hiding out right here in Owl’s Perch with her baby?

“Just how trusting are we supposed to be?” Sarah mumbled under her breath.

“Did you say something?” her mother asked.

“Are you sure she buried the … I mean, did you see the baby before …”

Mamm shook her head. “We saw the casket that Matthew made being lowered into the ground.” Mamm sat in a chair, looking too tired to remain on her feet. “Just as well, I suppose.”

“Do you think Naomi saw the baby?”

“I imagine. I know this is hard to accept, Sarah, but—”

“Can I go see Naomi after breakfast?”

“You’ve got chores. Just because you’re done with your schooling days—”

“Please?” Sarah interrupted her. “I just need to see her.”

The back door opened, and Sarah heard the menfolk stomping around as they pulled off their work boots.

“Okay, after breakfast you can slip out,” Mamm whispered. “But be back before Esther and Samuel are home from school.”

Sarah knocked on the Eshes’ door and waited. A moment later the door popped open.

Naomi’s eyes widened at the sight of her. “Why, Sarah Lapp, what are you doing here with everything your Mamm’s going through?”

“I brought you some sticky buns.”

Naomi accepted the plate from Sarah and walked toward her kitchen. “My guess is you’ve got more on your mind than sharing food.”

Sarah shut the door, peeled out of her cloak, and followed her. If anyone would give her straight answers, it’d be Naomi. Why, she’d been awful outspoken with Daed yesterday. Sarah bet she was aching to spill all she knew.

Naomi set the plate on the counter. “Take a seat, and tell me what’s on your mind.”

Laying her winter cape beside her, Sarah climbed onto a tall, swivel-backed counter stool. “I was hoping to understand a little more about what happened with Hannah.”

“I really don’t think we should talk about that. Your sister had a baby out of wedlock. How your parents want to address that with you children is up to them.”

Outspoken indeed
.

“Did you see the baby that night?”

“Yes. She was a tiny thing.”

A pitiful noise, like a baby crying, came from somewhere outside the house. The sound made Sarah’s insides jolt, but Naomi didn’t respond a bit to the cries.

The awful sound repeated with no reaction from Naomi. Was she just pretending not to hear it? Was she hiding the baby?