Sisters of the Quilt Trilogy (88 page)

Hannah set the glass on the table, staring at him.

A husband?

A door jerked open, and her father stepped out. “Roger won’t let anyone even speak to Sarah until you return.”

Paul glanced that way. “I’ll be there in just a minute.” He angled his back to the door where her father stood. “I was able to talk with Mary for a minute last night. Privacy with you seemed paramount to her, and she asked if you’d come get her today as early as possible. If you need a place to talk, you’re welcome to bring her here. No one in her community will think it odd for you two to be here since Sarah will be moving in with them when she leaves.” He motioned to the landing. “Upstairs, first door to your left is an unused office. It has a couple of extra couches and stuff. Just put the Do Not Disturb sign on the doorknob, and no one will even knock. I’d better get back to the meeting.”

Mute, she sank back onto the couch.

He thought she was married? She moaned, knowing she should have thought about this before now.

M
atthew paid Nate and climbed out of the truck. The white clapboard home with green shutters was a welcome sight. The aroma of burned wood drifted through the air, making him cringe. At least this time he knew why it’d been stealing his desire to rebuild.

The familiar sound of wet fabric being snapped in the air caused him to walk around the corner of the house. The morning sun glistened against Kathryn’s white prayer Kapp, her light brown hair evident under it. Her tanned arms stretched to hang out the day’s laundry, and awe at the woman in front of him caught him by surprise. She didn’t even notice him, and yet her presence inside him was undeniable.

From the get-go, his relationship with Kathryn had been different from what he had with Elle. It was built on things they had in common, on workdays, and the kindness in her heart to offer him true friendship. He wondered just how much Joseph meant to her and if he had any chance of winning her over. Paying her to stay and help his family while he went off with a girl he’d once asked to marry him had probably been the stupidest thing he’d done since he’d met Elle Leggett.

Kathryn grabbed the wooden basket and fiddled with clothespins inside it while walking.

“Hi,” Matthew said, causing her to stop right before she ran into him.

The seriousness across her face wasn’t the welcome he’d hoped for, but what could he expect from her?

She gave a nod and redirected her route.

He stepped in front of her. “I don’t even get a hello?”

“Did you enjoy your extra time in Baltimore? I hope so, because it caused me to break my word.”

“I … I’m sorry. Whatever problems it caused, I’ll straighten them out.”

Kathryn passed him the laundry basket before reaching under her apron and pulling out a letter. “It’s my resignation.”

He shook his head. “I’ll not take that.”

She placed it in the basket and walked off. “It’s done whether you read it or not.”

“Kathryn, wait.” He jogged that way and stood in front of her while she plowed on. “Just hear me out. I spent days in a fog, so confused I didn’t care about keeping my word to return.”

“You had no right to simply call and leave a message that you weren’t returning on time.”

“Kathryn,”—Matthew grabbed the letter and dropped the basket onto the ground—“give me another chance. I’m here to stay, to rebuild. I made decisions while there, good ones.”

She shielded her eyes from the sunlight and stared at him. “Elle is behind you in this plan of rebuilding?”

Matthew shrugged. “I finished endin’ things with her. We don’t even make good friends. How could we make a good marriage?” He shifted, using his body to shield her from the sun. “She may or may not ever join the faith. I wish her well, but whatever she chooses, I’m glad it’s over—in spite of the promise I once gave her.”

Kathryn propped her hands on her hips, staring at him. “If you ever tell me one thing and then do another, I’ll …”

Curious, Matthew taunted, “You’ll what?”

The smile across her face said she’d moved from frustration to teasing. “I’ll tell your Mamm.”

Matthew chuckled and flexed his muscle. “And what’s she going to do about it?”

She laughed. “Daed wants me home and … and Joseph.”

At twenty-two she was certainly old enough not to do as her father wanted, but she wouldn’t. “Don’t you think your Daed will give ya more time if I talk to him?”

She crossed her arms, looking like she might be giving weight to his question.

Still holding the letter, Matthew grabbed the laundry basket. “I guess the first question I should have asked is, are you willing to stay?”

Even if it causes problems with you and Joseph?

But he wouldn’t voice that last part. Why invite trouble?

She looked to where the shops had stood. Burned framing and caved-in roofs. “Getting a chance to see E and L come back to life? Ya, I’m willing to let
you
talk to my Daed about that.”

Matthew chuckled. “He is a reasonable man, right?”

“No doubt.”

“So what is his push to get ya back home lately?”

“I’m not sure, except maybe Joseph is putting pressure on him. My Daed has said from the beginning that he didn’t want me staying here so long that I might be tempted to put down roots in a community this far from home.”

“I guess I can understand that.”

“I’d rather find a way to juggle both, being here to help with E and L when needed and going home for a few days or so whenever I’m not needed. It’s expensive hiring a driver to take me the two hours to home and then drive back. But there’s no kind of job at home for me that comes close to the kind of satisfaction I get out of running your office.”

“I’ll talk with your Daed.”

“I went through the files while you were gone. Lots of the papers were partially burned, but I was able to figure out who’d done the ordering. I placed a bunch of calls and have a large stack of orders for you.”

“Ya figured out who made the orders from what was left of the forms?”

“That, and I remembered some of the orders, and the caller ID on the phone still worked, even after the fire. I was able to retrieve over thirty numbers and call people back to take their orders again.”

“And what if I’d not chosen to rebuild?”

“Then I’d have passed the orders on to a place in Indiana. We can’t leave people stranded. It’s just not right. And speaking of not right, you owe me no promises, ever, but if you give your word, you’d better keep it.”

“Or you’ll tell Mamm.”

Amusement danced across her face. “You got a better threat?”

“Yeah, but I’m not tellin’ what it is.”

She laughed and took the letter from him and ripped it in two before shoving it into her hidden pocket. Seriousness replaced her smile. “I’m sorry for the added grief you must feel, but I’ve had concerns about your happiness with Elle.”

“But you said you were praying for us.”

“Praying the best for you two. Before vows, it’s not a given that what’s best is marriage.”

Her words circled through his mind, and Matthew was hopeful that maybe Joseph wasn’t the right man for Kathryn either.

Matthew grabbed the basket, and they walked toward the house. “We have work to do and loss to cope with, but any sadness over things not working out with Elle took place long ago.”

From across the kitchen table, Hannah gazed into Mary’s eyes, wishing they were alone. With no way to know what was on her mind and no way of finding out until they went somewhere private, Hannah only knew the same thing she came here knowing—Mary had a secret, and she was scared. Mammi Annie sat in the living room, keeping a vigilant ear for every word spoken.

Hannah sipped her coffee. She’d finally been allowed inside someone’s home, and this was how the welcome played out? The rocking chair in the corner of the room creaked as Lissa swayed it back and forth while munching on a sandwich. The clock ticked on. It amazed Hannah how the sounds stood out in an Amish home. With no electric buzz from automatic washers, dryers, or dishwashers and certainly no televisions, radios, or entertainment centers, each home carried a peacefulness that Hannah loved—in spite of the stoic restraints that had to be navigated. But at nearly three in the afternoon, they needed to do something.

“We could go for a ride, but I get the feeling whatever is going on, we can’t talk with a little one in the car.” Her muted tones were quieter than the old timepiece ticking in the living room. Hannah wasn’t going to chance Lissa hearing something she could repeat to Sarah. Between Sarah’s emotional issues about babies and her ability to share things she shouldn’t, it could stir up a lot of trouble for Mary.

Mary’s half smile quivered, making dozens of tiny dimples in her chin. “We have to do something.”

The only thing Hannah knew to do was return to the Better Path. Although a bit unsure what they could do with Lissa while they talked openly, it appeared to be their best chance of communicating. Since Mammi Annie was listening, they couldn’t even whisper without the possibility of being heard.

If Mammi Annie were a little friendlier, Hannah might consider leaving Lissa with her while Mary and she went for a walk. But she had concerns about what Mammie Annie might ask and how Lissa might answer. Whatever tattered reputation Hannah had within Owl’s Perch, she needed to guard it for Sarah’s and Mary’s sake.

“Come on. It’s time we went to the Better Path. You need to talk to Paul about Sarah’s release, right?”

Mary glanced into the living room and rose. Hannah lifted Lissa into her arms, and the three left the Yoder place. As they drove down the narrow, paved roads, Mary kept rubbing her stomach.

“Does it hurt?” Hannah asked.

“No. I had a few sharp pains hit yesterday. That’s when I called you. Then they went away.”

“What type of pain?”

“The kind that hurts. What type of question is that?”

Hannah laughed. “A vague one, I guess. Where was the pain?”

“Right here.” Mary rubbed her right side near the upper part of her hip bone.

“How deep inside your body did it feel—just topical, like the skin being stretched, or deeper, like a muscle being pulled, or really deep, like an ache in the bone?”

Hannah listened carefully as Mary answered each question, knowing Dr. Lehman would want a complete report when she called him for his opinion. As the Better Path came into view, there were no signs of Daed and the church leaders. Hannah and Mary went inside with Lissa right beside them.

Maybe the argument with Paul had upset Lissa more than Hannah realized, because she clung to Hannah’s dress as they entered the building. Not one to be clingy very often, Lissa would be comfortable with her surroundings in a few minutes, but Hannah lifted the little girl into her arms. The conversation with Mary would just have to remain light until Lissa felt like playing at the tire swing or something.

They stepped inside the open space that included a large foyer, living room, and kitchen, with a lot of office doors off to the sides and a stairway that led to more offices. Five people, including Paul, were sitting in the kitchen. A freshly cut cake sat on the table, and they each had a plate with a slice. The soft chatter and laughs ended as everyone’s eyes moved to Mary and Hannah. Obviously they were sharing a special celebration break of some kind, but this wasn’t the quiet entrance into the place Hannah had banked on.

Paul excused himself and stood. “Hannah, Mary, right this way.” He left his half-eaten piece of cake and walked up the steps, leading them. Once on the landing, he opened a door. “If you use my office, everyone will think Mary’s here to read over things for Sarah’s release. Since her name’s been cleared concerning the fires and everything between her and the community is in good order, she’ll be released tomorrow, even though it’s a Saturday.”

Hannah, Mary, and Lissa stepped inside.

He glanced at his watch. “I won’t need my office for at least another hour.” He looked to Lissa. “You hungry?”

Lissa shrugged, but Hannah knew she was, even though she’d had a sandwich at Mary’s place. The tiny girl could outeat the rest of the family and looked like she never ate anything.

Paul slid one hand into his pant pocket. “I bet you could make us both a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”

Her eyes lit up. “Are you hungry too?”

Paul nodded. “And Halley brought a homemade cake.”

Lissa stared up at Hannah, silently begging for Paul’s plan to be okay with her. Paul had nailed a way to get Lissa to leave Hannah’s side. “Go ahead.”

He glanced to Hannah as he was closing the door. She mouthed a “thank you,” and he nodded.

Mary checked the door to make sure it was secure and then leaned against it. Tears welled and began running down her face.

“What’s going on?”

Wiping her tears, she gazed into Hannah’s eyes. “I’ve made a huge mistake. If you can’t help me …”

“I’m here to do anything I can.” She took Mary by the shoulders, giving a gentle squeeze before lowering her hands to her side. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“While I was engaged to Luke, the doctor told me not to marry, not to do anything that might cause me to get pregnant. I didn’t tell Luke, and …” She slid her hand over her protruding stomach. “I didn’t want to lose him …”