Sisters of the Quilt Trilogy (72 page)

They were collecting evidence against her. Did they know?

Tossing the dress back into the chest, she figured they probably didn’t
know
anything or she’d have been confronted by now. Beaten. Thrown out of the house. Disowned forever.

Her chest hurt, and she could hear Hannah telling her to slow her breathing and picture herself sitting on the pier, dangling her feet in the pond. There wasn’t time for that. Sarah pulled quilts and old baby clothes out of the wooden box until a piece of paper floated to the floor. It’d been tucked in a quilt, safe from prying eyes during the warm month of September.

“Sarah?” Her father was in the room.

She froze, too frightened to look up. She clutched the coveted piece of paper in her fist.

Her father wrapped his hand around her arm and lifted her to her feet. He took the paper from her and unfolded it. “You will tell me what you’re doing going through things that do not belong to you.”

She couldn’t even catch a breath. How was she supposed to talk?

“Right now, Sarah.” His words came out purposeful and hard.

She fought for air. “I … I’ve got to call Hannah.”

“Why?” He barked the word at her.

She shook her head, unable to think with him in the room.

Daed clenched his jaw before he wrapped his hand around her wrist. He slowly turned her hand over, palm side up, and stared at it. He looked into her eyes and pressed the paper into her hand. “The decision is yours.”

P
aul walked the rows of yellow squash in his mother’s garden, twisting ripe ones from the vine and tossing them into the bushel basket. His attempt to break free of his disappointment and pain wasn’t working. Over two years of believing Hannah would return and they would reunite was hard to let go of. He’d convinced himself she was somewhere mending while gaining maturity, that by the time she came home, she’d no longer be too young to marry. He swallowed hard. Clearly she wasn’t too young to marry.

He’d held on to the dream of her return for so long that he felt ridiculous. And yet he still loved her. His life would never be what he believed it could have been with Hannah.

Nevertheless, it went on.

He’d known from the time she was fifteen that she’d tug on many a man’s heart. There was no way around it. He twisted another squash off its vine. Five years of his life had been devoted to waiting on Hannah to love him the way he loved her.

But she’d grown to love someone else.

An Englischer. An upper-middle-class one at that. He could hardly believe his Lion-heart would fit into that lifestyle. It was his fault, really. He’d led Hannah to desire a lifestyle beyond her community. He’d always talked about the freedoms of electricity, computers, education, and cars. He’d put idealistic views into her head, thinking he was helping her see the value of stepping out of the Old Order ways. In many respects he’d acted more like a fancy Englischer than a Plain man, and he’d done so in front of an impressionable young woman.

Paul’s family and community weren’t like Hannah’s Old Order Amish life, with no electricity or high-school diploma, but his roots were in the simple ways. When she left, he’d had one foot in each world. If he hadn’t, she might not have found it so easy to leave the Plain life.

His regrets wouldn’t solve anything. He’d lost his temper when he learned she was pregnant, and he’d always pay the price for that, but it was time he let go of his guilt and turned toward home and the roots he believed in. He refused to handle his loss the way his Uncle Samuel had. He wouldn’t grow a heart of stone and live out his days single, pining for what might have been. He’d taken the paper with Hannah’s phone number and address to the Lapp home yesterday. Her family could contact her or not as they saw fit, but he was finished longing for Hannah Lapp.

Completely finished.

The dinner bell rang. He grabbed the bushel basket and headed for the house. His sister and her husband, William, were here with their two boys and new baby girl. The Miller family was visiting too. Dorcas had brought the ingredients for homemade ice cream. It was a celebration in honor of his securing a full-time position at the Better Path and finishing his graduate program—although he planned to skip the commencement ceremony this time. Working at the Better Path wasn’t much of a job as far as pay or benefits, but he could do more preventive work as a counselor for families than as a caseworker.

Placing the basket on the back porch, he peered through the window. Dorcas was laughing with his mom about something while arranging candles on an oversize cake. She’d been feeling really ill lately, even having days where she could barely get out of bed, but she seemed fine today.

She glanced up, spotting him. Her eyes grew wide, as if he were spying on what she was doing. She wagged her finger at him before joining him on the back porch.

“Hey.” She nodded toward the house. “You gonna be able to stand all the family ruckus over you?”

“I always do,” he teased back, focusing on her. She wore the clothes of her People. He’d never seen her without a prayer Kapp. Her heart was as respectful of the Mennonite ways as any he’d ever seen. She’d remained his friend throughout all his pining for Hannah. They didn’t have the same level of camaraderie as he and Hannah had shared, and they rarely laughed together, but that could change with some effort.

He went to the edge of the porch and studied the horizon. “She isn’t coming back.”

Dorcas came up beside him. “I’m sorry.”

He turned to face her. “No, Dorcas, I should apologize to you. You’ve been patient and hopeful for me that she’d return. But you didn’t really want her to come back, did you?”

She closed her eyes, and her face twisted with emotion. “No. You’re not angry at me, are you?”

He watched the fields, trying to let go of his desire for Hannah’s return. “No, not at you.” He willed himself to give attention to the present, but like a hurricane gaining strength, bitter emotions churned inside him. “After dinner, would you care to go for a walk?”

She looked surprised. “You know I would love to. But I thought you were going to Gram’s to take care of the garden after dinner.”

Hannah’s garden
.

The one he’d tended for three summers, waiting on her to return. “It can grow weeds.” He motioned toward the house. “Let’s go celebrate.”

While the band held the last note of a song, Hannah laid the microphone down. Ready for a break, she walked into the kitchen. Placing a coffee filter into its basket, she heard Laura upstairs playing games with all the kids. Laura was just working part-time for now, giving Kevin and Lissa time to bond with her while Hannah and Martin were close by. Nina was glad for the reprieve and hadn’t even come over with Dave and Vicki tonight. Hannah filled the basket with fresh grounds and poured water into the coffee maker, then watched fresh brewed coffee immediately begin to fill the decanter. The band sang a song by Rascal Flatts about forgetting the past and moving on.

Memories of life with Zabeth circled through Hannah’s mind. How grateful she was for the chance to have been a part of Zabeth’s life, but she missed her.

The musicians began another song. Laughter and loud voices echoed through the house. She grabbed a grape from one of the prepared trays and popped it into her mouth. Life in Martin’s house was amazingly easy, and most day-to-day problems were solved in the time it took him to write a check.

“Hey.” Martin strode into the room, all smiles. Whiffs of his cologne followed him as he placed his hand on the small of her back.

She couldn’t help but smile. “Hi.”

“Any chance I can talk you into us going away for the weekend with Vicki and Dave?”

“Ah, chaperones, huh? And you think that’ll cause me to at least consider this rather brazen request?”

“Exactly.” He grabbed a mug and poured himself a cup of coffee. “Come on, Hannah.” He filled her cup and set the decanter back in place. “We have Laura now, and we need some time without Kevin and Lissa.” He drew the cup to his lips.

She added sugar and powdered cream to her coffee. “Okay. It’s probably time I learn to trust your judgment more.”

He choked on a sip of his coffee. “You’re going to kill me being so agreeable about things without warning. But since you’re in such a generous mood, maybe we could catch a movie during this weekend outing?”

“A movie?” The bottom of her mug scraped against the countertop when she wrapped her hand around it. “I’ve never been to a movie theater or watched the DVD thingy here at the house.”

“Good. Makes it easier to work out what movies you haven’t seen yet.” He smiled.

She giggled. “True enough. If I agree to this, do I get the infamous expensive popcorn and candy to go with it that I hear people talk about?”

“You can have anything you want, Hannah. Date night or not.”

Hannah believed that. She just hoped she never took advantage of it.

Lissa ran into the room, laughing. “Me and Kevin’s being good tonight, huh?”

“Yes, you are,” Martin answered. Hannah nodded in agreement.

“Can I have some soda?”

“How about either juice or water?” Hannah asked.

Lissa brushed strands of hair off her face. “Apple juice.”

Martin took a cup and lid from the cabinet and opened the fridge.

Looking from Martin to Lissa, Hannah couldn’t imagine ever living a solitary life at the cabin again. The adjustment to living on Martin’s property had taken some time, but now this is where her life took place—where schedules were juggled, where any and every thought or emotion was welcome to be freely expressed. She smiled to herself. Where music reigned supreme and lights flicked on in one room and off in another without a care given to it, where friendships were built and opposing opinions were listened to with respect.

Martin poured the drink and snapped the sippy lid on it.

Warmth and gratitude radiated from deep within her as if it were Christmastime and she were sitting in front of a roaring fire.

Wrapping her hands around the mug of coffee, Hannah watched him interact with Lissa. He’d changed a lot in the time she’d known him.

Kevin and Lissa still had times of crying for their parents, especially for their mom. Hannah had little doubt they would continue to miss their parents, but they knew they were loved, and surely that would cause abundant life to grow.

Lissa took the drink. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Martin patted her head. She leaned against him, hugging his legs, and he rubbed her back before she ran out of the room. He returned his attention to Hannah. “Care to tell me what’s on your mind?”

She shrugged. “Nothing.”

His green eyes fastened on her, making her feel like everything about her mattered to him. “I think there is.”

She smiled. “You’re right. There is.”

“Come on, phone girl, talk to me.”

“I’ve just been thinking …” She shrugged. “That I’m very glad. That’s all.”

He moved in close and slid his arms around her. “Ah, are the words
charming
and
intelligent
coming to mind much these days?”

She put her palms against his chest. “You just can’t not tease, can you?”

“Nope.”

“Well, just for your information, those words are included. And more.”

He kissed her forehead. “I like the sound of this. Those brainwashing tapes rigged to play in the cottage while you’re asleep must be working.” He brushed her lips with a kiss.

She felt safe and warm, loved and respected. In his arms, life never seemed as heavy.

“Any other words you want to share? There are children and friends in the house, so, you know, keep it decent.”

She laughed. “That’s enough for now. I wouldn’t want you to be tempted to sin by thinking too highly of yourself.”

“Oh, come on. Just one more thing?”

Her cheeks were burning, and he was fully amused. “Shut up, Palmer.”

Laughing, he hugged her tighter. “I’m pretty thankful for you, Hannah. You probably have no idea.”

“That’s exactly what I wanted to tell you.”

“That you’re thankful for you too?”

She smacked his arm. “You’re difficult. You know that?”

“And you have trouble telling a person what you’re thinking and feeling. You know that?”

“Well, duh.” She pulled him close, and he responded by brushing her lips with kisses, slowly and gently. “I … love you.”

He stopped kissing her and stared.

“Well, breathe, Martin. If you pass out,”—she took a step back—“you’re on your own.” She tapped the floor with her foot. “Thump.”

They shared a laugh before the phone interrupted them. She glanced at the caller ID, then looked at Martin. “It says it’s John Yoder. You think that could be the Yoders from Owl’s Perch?”

Martin reached for the phone.

She stopped him. “I’ll get it.”

With her pulse racing, Hannah grabbed the phone. “Hello?” She pushed her finger against her free ear, trying to block out the music and voices in the background. She walked out the back door.

“Hannah?” A young female voice wobbled and screeched.

“Yes?”

“You gotta come back, Hannah. You gotta.” Her sister sounded rattled.

“Sarah, what’s wrong?”

“Matthew’s shop burned down, and the bishop’s looking for who did it. It’s my fault, Hannah. Me and my tongue, we did it.”

“Matthew’s shop?” She looked at the back door, hoping Martin had followed her. He was right behind her, watching. “Did anyone get hurt?”

“Matthew and David are in the hospital.”

“How badly are they injured?” She felt Martin’s hand on her back, comforting her already.

“I don’t know.” Sarah cried harder. “I’m sorry for the stuff I spread, Hannah. I … I’m sorry.”