Sisters of the Quilt Trilogy (69 page)

With Lissa in her lap and Kevin sitting beside her, Hannah finished the last page of a picture storybook of
Heidi
. She hadn’t sent them to school today. They were nervous about Hannah and Martin disappearing on them. She figured it was just one day, and they’d return on Monday.

Hannah closed the book and patted Lissa’s pajama-covered legs. “Okay, bedtime.”

Kevin jumped up. “I’m not going to sleep. I’m gonna turn out the lights and watch the stars glow that we put on the wall today. When Uncle Martin gets home, I’ll show him all the constellations we designed.”

Hannah set the book on the coffee table. She figured if he stayed in bed watching the stars long enough, he’d go to sleep. “Okay by me.”

He hurried toward his room. Lissa stood on the couch, wrapped her arms around Hannah’s neck, and held on tightly as Hannah walked upstairs. Lissa giggled the whole way.

Hannah set her on the bed and waited while she scurried to her sleeping spot. She tucked the blankets around her, sat on the side of the bed, and kissed her tiny hands. How could Faye just walk out on her little girl?

“Hannah.”

“Hmm?”

Lissa gazed up, her big dark eyes absorbing everything. “What’s
buoyant
mean?”

Hannah stroked Lissa’s hair. “You want to run that by me again?”

“But I’m in my p.j.’s. Where do you want me to run?”

Hannah repositioned herself on the bed. “Nowhere, sweetie. That means I need you to repeat what you said.”

Her face blossomed with wonder. “So you don’t know what
buoyant
is either?”

A deep chuckle made Hannah turn toward the doorway. Martin leaned against the doorframe, looking as confident as ever.

Lissa giggled. “Uncle Martin!”

She started to get up, but Martin held out both hands in a stop-sign fashion. “Stay, Rover, stay.”

She snuggled back under the covers. Hannah moved to the foot of the bed.

Martin sat down beside Lissa and patted her head. “Good girl.”

She broke into giggles. “He pretends I’m a puppy sometimes.”

Hannah nodded. “I see.”

She sat up, encircling him with her arms. “I love you, Uncle Martin.”

Martin gave her a gentle hug. “Back at ya. Now snuggle down, and let’s say good night to God.” He lowered his head and said prayers with her.

Suddenly Hannah was swept back to her own childhood. Her Daed used to tuck her in each night, lay his hand on her head, and say a silent prayer. In the silence she used to imagine he was begging God to make her be a good girl. She never quite managed goodness, but she missed the warmth of hearing his last words of the day as he tucked her in.

Martin whispered her name, drawing her out of her thoughts. The prayer was over, and he was standing next to her. He nodded toward the door.

He turned out the light and pulled the door almost shut as they left.

Hannah began descending the stairs. “Any signs of Faye?”

“None.” He sounded tired. “I talked to every friend and acquaintance I could find. I visited homeless shelters, talked to Dr. Smith. I came up completely empty-handed.” Martin touched her shoulder, and she stopped in midstep. “She might not come back.”

There was no sense in asking him what they were going to do if that happened. He didn’t know. And yet they both knew.

They heard a door open, and Kevin appeared on the landing.

Martin drew a deep breath. “Hey, sport, what’s up?”

“Come look at what me and Hannah did to my room today.”

Martin glanced at Hannah, not looking all that pleased that the guest bedroom was being transformed into a kid’s room. “I’m in the middle of—”

Hannah tugged at his shirt sleeve and gave a slight nod toward Kevin.

Martin’s body tensed with frustration. “I’ll be right there.”

Kevin went back into his room, and Martin sighed. “Listen, we need help this go-round. I know you think it’s pawning the children off on someone who doesn’t love them, but I intend to find someone who can come into the home. You’ve taken on more hours at the clinic, and you have school most nights. I already have a good list of candidates to fill either a full-or part-time position as nanny. I want to begin interviewing.”

“I could take a leave of absence. Kevin and Lissa need stability and lots of it. I just don’t think hired help is the answer.”

“That’s because you think if you work at something hard enough, you can fix it. You can’t heal the damage Faye and Richard have done, and dropping everything in our lives to baby the kids isn’t the answer. I want you to go on with your life as much as possible. Hiring part-time or full-time help is the ans—”

Hannah held up her hand, stopping him. “Maybe you’re right.”

Martin moved in closer. “I know I am.”

“Of course. So do you have someone on that list you’re already considering seriously?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

He took her hand in his and caressed it. “On whether you’re going to get angry if the answer is yes.”

“Are all men like this?”

“No. Very few climb to this level of honesty.”

She laughed. “How do you have a list already? She left yesterday.”

He looked at the ceiling and whistled innocently until she smacked his shoulder. “I started looking for someone when Faye was in rehab, but a certain young woman I know wouldn’t even consider it.”

“All right. You know my schedule. Just set up a time and date. Have whoever it is come here right after lunch one day. I’d like to see her in this environment, and she can have dinner with us.”

“Uncle Martin.” Kevin sounded exasperated.

Martin looked to the landing. “I’m coming. Go on back to your room.” They waited for the door to close. He turned back to her. “This is a good decision, Hannah. It’ll be just what we need so that Kevin and Lissa are taken care of but we get more time to date without kids in tow.”

“Ah, so that’s the goal, huh?” She went to kiss his cheek, but he pulled her into a lip kiss. She inhaled sharply. “Your plan sounds promising.” She finished descending the steps. “See you sometime tomorrow.”

“Hannah?”

She stopped and turned. “Yeah?”

“Is the cottage comfortable enough? Anything I can do or buy that would keep me from having to hear you complain about it later on?”

“Yeah, earplugs. Good night, Martin.”

“Good night.”

W
ith the aroma of new leather permeating the small shop, Luke sat behind the commercial-grade sewing machine, stitching a well-oiled piece of rawhide around the padding of a horse’s collar. The gas-powered motor that provided the strength for the heavy needle to do its job sat outside, right behind the wall where he was sitting. His thoughts seemed to move in rhythm with the steady
flub-dub, flub-dub, flub-dub
of the machine’s engine.

Joining Matthew in business and renting his old harness shop out to an Amish couple was the best thing he could have done. It seemed if Matthew put his hand to something, it became a huge success. Why, with the rent money he was making and the income he was earning as Matthew’s partner, he and Mary would be able to build a home of their own soon.

Luke cut the heavy-duty strings, loosened the rawhide from the machine, and rose to assemble another collar.

A shadow fell across his workbench, causing him to look up. “Daed, I didn’t hear you come in.”

The man stood in the middle of the room, reminding Luke of a statue. “The fact that divorce is unheard of among the Amish does nothing for a man if his wife hates him.”

Luke had no words of comfort, and now wasn’t the time to try to get his Daed to see his fault in all this, so he remained silent.

His father walked to him and held out a piece of paper in his trembling hands. “I never meant to …” He shut his eyes. “I got a letter from a Dr. J. Lehman in Alliance, Ohio.” His eyes watered. “My sister died, and a doctor sent me a note about it. The doctor mentioned that a relative had delayed the funeral to give any of Zabeth’s other relatives time to come. If I had my guess, I’d say the relative he speaks of is Hannah. I don’t know how she learned of my sister or her whereabouts, but none of my relatives had anything to do with my sister.”

Luke took the envelope. The doctor’s name was the only readable part. The return address looked as if drops of water had hit the ink and smudged it. He opened it, but there was no letter inside. “Daed?”

He gave a fatigued nod before pointing to the paper. “I know that’s not much information to go on. I had shoved the letter in my pocket, and it went through the washer, but it seems the envelope fell out and wedged itself under the washer. Maybe you know someone who can help you figure out how to find her.”

Luke shook his head. “Not unless I ask Paul. He’d know—or know how to find out.”

His father pointed to the envelope. “If that’s the only person, then that’s who you should take the information to.” His eyes reflected hurt so deep that a physical pain shot through Luke. A sob broke from his Daed’s throat. “I’ve tried standing true to Sarah, like I shoulda done with Hannah. But her nervousness just gets worse, and she’s mumbling to herself and turns up in the oddest places. Yet she doesn’t seem to know why she’s at those places. She’s locked inside herself, and no one has been able to reach her.”

Dismayed, Luke couldn’t respond, and he watched his father turn and leave the shop.

Luke stared at the envelope, wondering what to do. Was it fair for his Daed to use Paul to find Hannah when he hadn’t spoken a nice word to or about the man in the two and a half years Hannah had been missing? Besides, Paul seemed to have moved on, with Dorcas. And clearly Hannah still didn’t want to be found. She hadn’t written in a long while, but last he heard from her, she was going to school and felt good about where she was.

And although Mamm longed to see Hannah, she’d had her chances too, hadn’t she? Instead she chose to let Hannah grieve in solitude after her baby died. She never went to her.

But Sarah—she hadn’t been the same since the day she’d learned of her sister’s plight. If there was a reason for Paul to help find Hannah, Sarah was it.

Unsure what was the right thing to do, Luke tucked the paper into his leather apron and returned to the work at hand. Figuring this out would take awhile.

Martin walked to the cottage. He thought Hannah might want to know how well the interview had gone with the potential nanny, Laura Scofield, a sixty-two-year-old woman with excellent credentials. More than that, he wanted a few minutes with Hannah. He tapped on the door. It was almost eleven o’clock, but she’d just pulled into the driveway a few minutes ago. The hour was the downside of taking night classes. The truth was he couldn’t wait for her to get her diploma and end this continual rivalry he felt with her schedule.

She opened the door, looking gorgeous and tired. “Hey.” Stepping back, she invited him in.

“I took all the laundry by the dry cleaners.” He held out the basket of washed and folded clothes.

“Thanks. Care for a drink?” She set the basket on the table.

He grabbed two bottles of water. “I interviewed Laura Scofield, the nanny I mentioned to you. I’d like you to meet her as soon as you can, and perhaps you should set up that appointment. I think Laura is a perfect choice, but I feel pretty strongly that because of your age, you need to establish yourself as her authority concerning the children so no issues ever crop up in that area.”

“Ah, leave it to you to think about such things. I’ll call her tomorrow and schedule her visit.”

He held up a bottle of water. “Want one?”

“Yeah.” She stifled a yawn. “Kevin give you trouble going down for the night?”

He opened her bottle of water and passed it to her. “Has a cat got a climbing gear?”

“Taking care of two children is probably not how you’d like to spend your evenings.”

Martin sneered. “Not hardly, but it’s growing on me. It’s not nearly as bad as I thought it’d be.”

Hannah took a sip of water. “The Amish consider a baby the most precious gift on this planet. The People cherish them—just because they exist.”

“Yet they don’t seem all that warm and inviting once people are adults. My mom told me Zabeth’s troubles were plenty. And you left at seventeen and changed your name. So what happens between infanthood and adulthood?”

She motioned to the porch.

“Sure.”

They moved to the porch and sat on the steps. It seemed their best conversations took place outside, especially at the end of the day.

She pulled her legs in and propped her chin on her knees. When nothing but the gentle hum of crickets filled the air, Martin wondered if she’d answer him or not. It was never a given that she’d answer his questions.

She stretched her legs out and ran her hands down the row of buttons on the front of her dress. “I left because I refused to repent. I think the reasons for leaving are as varied as people themselves.”

Wondering what she had needed to repent of, Martin asked, “Is Paul still the reason you’ve never gone back home?”

“For a while I didn’t think I could stand seeing him with someone else.” She paused and seemed to shudder. “My father saw me the night I’d been attacked, witnessed the trauma, and yet later on he chose to believe I’d had a fight with Paul or something that night. I don’t really know how he twisted it in his mind, but he didn’t believe how I came up pregnant.”

“What happened between you and the rest of your family?”

She slowly explained each piece of the story until he understood things she and Zabeth had been silent about since he and Hannah met.

He moved in closer and put his arm around her shoulders. “Do you still miss Paul?”

She gazed at Martin, a smile crossing her lips. “I’ve found an unusual fish in the sea, a bit self-centered, but a remarkable man nonetheless.”

He pulled her closer and kissed her cheek. “Well, this fish is pretty happy to be caught. But sometimes I get the feeling you’re still unsure about us.”

“It’s not just a feeling. I am unsure, because I haven’t been ready to tell you everything.”

“This is everything, right?”

She shook her head. “I wish.” She paused. “Because of complications after I gave birth, I … I can’t have children.”

In her voice he heard the depth of loss she felt for the children she’d never bear. “I’m sorry.”

“I wasn’t sure when to tell you. It seems presumptuous to bring it up too soon and wrong to have waited this long.”

He removed his arm from her shoulders and slid his hand over hers. “No guilt over the timing.”

She watched as he kissed and caressed her fingers. “Don’t just rush in to make me feel better, Martin. You have dreams for your future, and maybe I don’t fit as well as you’d thought.”

“And maybe you fit better. I should have told you this, but I didn’t want to scare you away. I don’t want children. Even after getting serious about life and God, I stopped seeing some women because I didn’t want children, and I realized they did.”

“You’d put your hand on the Bible and confess that’s true?”

“I’ve never told a girl something in order to sound nice or to soften the blow. Not that sweet a guy.”

She pushed him back. “Yeah, but this is me. We’re different together, more bonded for reasons I don’t need to explain.”

“True enough, although I didn’t realize you knew that.” He rose. “I know what I want, but I’ll give the younger member of this band time to think and process. Good night, Hannah.” He headed toward his house before stopping in midstride. “If we’d both known that being honest about who we really are would have helped rather than caused problems, we might have actually told the whole truth earlier on.”

She shook her finger at him. “You’re making that phrase circle inside my head again.”

“The one missing the accurate adjectives
charming
and
intelligent?
”

“That’d be the one.”

“So what is it?”

“Shut up, Palmer.”

He kept a straight face, knowing she’d just answered him. “You’re not going to tell me what it is?”

“I did.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I know, but something with
charming
and
intelligent
would be much more accurate.”

“I’m fully aware of that.”

He chuckled and went inside his house.