Sisters of the Quilt Trilogy (98 page)

The niggling feeling returned, making her wonder just what it was about Laura’s living in the house and taking over full-time that bothered her. Was it her own ego? Did she want to be everything for Martin and this shifted things? At sixty-two years old, Laura wasn’t exactly a threat in the attraction department.

“I’m sure Ol’ Gert is in need of people attention.”

“I contacted the Sawyer family, the ones who live up the road from the cabin. Their oldest boy and his sister are feeding her and riding her regularly. It’ll make tending to her during the winter easier now that you’re living in the cottage.”

Hannah wondered when he’d hired the Sawyer teens to take care of the horse. “But even if we don’t go to the cabin, I haven’t had any time with Kevin yet.”

“Your guilt is working overtime again. He’s fine. We had a great weekend, and he didn’t miss you anymore than when you pull weekends helping deliver babies.”

Torn between what Martin wanted and what she wanted, she said nothing.

“Come on, phone girl,” he spoke up. “I deserve a night out with just us. I have the state engineering exams next weekend. I’ve been studying like crazy, and I want a real date, okay?”

“I did miss being here for your birthday and even for the makeup date for your birthday. We’ll go wherever you’d like.”

“Well, then I’ll make reservations for us and surprise you. I’ll also call a locksmith and have him replace the doorknob on the cottage. Hopefully he’ll be able to get to it soon.” Someone paged him over the intercom again. “I’m looking forward to tonight, but I’m late for a meeting that can’t start without me.”

“Not a problem. See you tonight.”

After grabbing a bite to eat, Hannah and Lissa ran a few errands before returning to Martin’s with Lissa’s schoolwork in hand. Laura was unloading groceries when they arrived. Martin had been right. Laura had gone out the front door, and Hannah could have entered that way. While Lissa prattled to Laura about the trip, Hannah went into Martin’s home office and called the nursing school. She explained to the director of nursing about her family needing her, but she didn’t go into detail. Hannah waited while Kim looked up her records. In encouraging tones, Kim told her she had to make up any tests and clinical rotations she’d missed, but she wasn’t in danger of not graduating.

The good news coursed through Hannah, bringing her fresh energy. Leaving Lissa to get her makeup work done with Laura’s help, she headed to the birthing clinic, ready to see her ever-faithful Tuesday afternoon quilters. She might not get time at Zabeth’s cabin tonight, but she’d sneak in a few hours with her Old Order Amish quilting friends.

Hannah turned onto the gravel driveway of the birthing clinic. To her right was the health center. Past that, farther to the right, was the quilting house. The sight of the shop awakened something odd inside her. Horses and buggies were hitched in various places near the quilting house. Smoke rose from the chimney, assuring her the Amish women hoped she would arrive this afternoon. This community of Amish seemed more open to learn and less likely to judge quickly. If there was one thing she would like to take back to her Amish community in Pennsylvania, it’d be the grace she’d found here—with Zabeth, Dr. Lehman, and these Amish women.

The sprawling branches of the oaks were carrying full-peak colors: gold, orange, yellow, and brick. In a few weeks the leaves would turn brown and fall off, and the subtle beauty of barren branches would replace the intense color.

Hannah entered the small room. A chorus of welcomes hit her so hard her eyes misted.

Sadie rose from the table and engulfed her in a hug, whispering a welcome in Pennsylvania Dutch.
“Kumm, saag uns wege dei Bsuch do yetz.”

Is this what Hannah came for, to tell them about her latest visit with her Amish family? She was here to answer medical questions while they worked on another quilt for charity, wasn’t she?

She gazed at the group. Over a dozen women were here. Verna pointed to a metal plate sitting on the wood stove. “Fresh-baked chocolate-chip cookies.”

The mist in Hannah’s eyes turned to full, brimming tears, but why?

Lois offered a wobbly smile. “They aren’t that bad. We promise.”

Sadie squeezed Hannah’s hand as the room broke into laughter. These women knew what it took to live Old Order Amish, and they understood the pain of breaking away. They’d had loved ones who’d left.

Today she wanted more than just to leave with a sense of peace about her future. None of them would ever prod her to talk, but they were willing to listen, and she wanted to tell them of her past—all of it. And she wanted to share her present, in hopes of never forgetting to carry into her future some part of who she’d once been.

By the time she left the quilting house, it was clear that her emotions had been more raw from her visit back home than she’d realized, but the women’s love and acceptance wrapped her in warmth. She hurried to Martin’s place, determined to get as much time with Kevin as possible before leaving for the evening. Guilt was already weighing on her, but she and Martin did need an evening to talk. As she climbed out of her car, Kevin barreled out the back door and ran into her arms.

She went to her knees, feeling a thousand hopes and dreams for this child as he held her tight. “Hey, how are you?”

His little face beamed as he released her. “I got something new. Want to see it?”

“Absolutely.”

Kevin pulled her into the house.

“Hannah,” Laura called.

Almost to the stairway, Hannah and Kevin stopped midstep. “Yes?”

Laura appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. “Martin’s secretary called. The locksmith won’t be here until after eight.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

Kevin tugged on her hand, and they went up the stairs and to his room, where he talked nonstop for more than an hour. At some point the doorbell rang, and Laura answered it, apparently receiving a delivery. After Kevin finished talking and was ready to do something besides chat with Hannah, she grabbed her overnight bag out of her car and went to Martin’s room to shower and get ready for her date. When she stepped into his bedroom, on his bed was a box with a bright red bow and her name in bold letters across it. This had to be what was delivered.

She opened the card.

Since you’re locked out of the cottage, I thought you might need a dress for tonight
.

Love you, Martin

The note was personal enough, but it wasn’t in his handwriting. She opened the box and lifted out a red, formfitting, silk dress covered with a loose layer of matching chiffon. The dress had ruched cap sleeves, which would show more skin than she was comfortable with. Not at all sure what to think, she held the dress against her body. It was gorgeous, but …

Something inside the box caught her eye, and she moved a layer of tissue to reveal a black silk jacket. She couldn’t help but smile. Martin thought of everything all the time. It wasn’t the least bit practical, and there was no telling what he’d paid for it, but for his birthday dinner he’d bought her a dress, and she intended to wear it.

Leaving the jacket on the bed, she took the dress and her overnight bag into Martin’s bathroom. After a soothing shower and drying her hair for a few minutes, she slid into the red dress.

Red
.

She gazed at herself, her long, curly hair draped about her. She didn’t look anything like the women she’d grown up with, the ones she’d spent time with over the weekend, or the ones she’d been with this afternoon. But Martin would definitely be pleased. She paused, looking into her eyes. Yet she had to admit that being Plain was more than just a part of who she’d once been, as hidden as that seemed while wearing a red silk and chiffon dress.

She grabbed the pins and began winding her hair into a bun. A rap at the bedroom door caused her to peer out of the bathroom.

Martin leaned against the doorframe, smiling and looking as confident as ever. “I think I like your being locked out of the cottage and forced to wear something different.”

She slid the last hairpin into place and stepped across the threshold before turning a complete circle.

“Oh yeah.” He nodded his approval, his eyes fixed. “Definitely. Amy clearly has great taste.”

“You hadn’t seen it before now?”

“Too swamped. Amy Clarke picked it out and then called me with a description. I made sure she bought a jacket, just in case it showed too much skin for your liking.”

“Well, according to the look in your eye, you’re pleased with the outcome of your joint effort with Amy.”

“We’ve teamed up on projects for years, but we’ve never yet produced anything near this gorgeous.”

She crossed the room. When Martin opened his arms, thoughts of Paul popped into her mind, as if he had his arms open for her. Suddenly a bit shaken and weak-kneed, she snuggled into Martin’s embrace.

He held her for a moment before shifting and planting a kiss on her lips. Then he put a bit of space between them, keeping her face inches from his. “How’s Paul?”

Slipping from his embrace, she stared at him. “What?”

“Lissa was just telling me that he was injured and you helped him.”

“Oh … yeah …” She adjusted the sleeve of her dress, unsure how to explain what’d taken place, really taken place. “A lot of good things happened for me, and I’d planned on our talking about the whole trip later tonight.”

“I’m not interested in the whole trip, just the parts that go down memory lane with an ex-fiancé.” His eyes and his tone held the intensity of an owner of a thriving engineering firm.

She knew right then that trying to explain what she and Paul had experienced this past weekend was a really bad plan. Martin had been her closest ally since she’d landed here, broken and friendless. But she’d become the woman he was in love with, the one he intended to marry. And maybe, inside of that relationship, full disclosure of every feeling wasn’t a wise move, at least until she understood them herself.

Placing her hand in the center of his chest, she studied his handsome face, remembering dozens of parts of the journey that had bonded them in ways no one else could understand. “Paul and I found some closure, and now I own parts of myself that were stolen from me years ago. I came home ready to tell you what went on, feeling like I can begin life anew and having a peace with my ghosts that I never expected. And I don’t deserve the tone in your voice.”

Do I?

The sensation of Paul opening his arms and her slipping into them had been an unwelcome thought, one that had to be more symbolic than evidence of hidden desires. Her love for and connection to Martin completely outweighed all else. He and the children were her future, her freedom, her strength.

Martin eased his arms around her. “I didn’t mean to have a tone.”

She dipped her chin, allowing him to kiss her forehead. “You’re honest and to the point about whatever is on your mind. I love that about you, even if you ruined a good moment.”

He took her left hand and cradled it in his, running his finger over the ring he’d given her. Turning her hand over, palm up, he eased her fingers open. “My heart is right here.” He lifted her hand and kissed the center of her palm. “Have I ruined this greeting completely, or can I get it back?”

“Wow,” she whispered. “I’d say it’s definitely not ruined.”

F
rom the roof of the building, Matthew anchored his foot on the top of the ladder as Luke passed him another heavy piece of decking.
“An drei. Eens. Zwee. Drei.”

On
three
, Luke hoisted the wood upward, and Matthew heaved it toward himself at the same time. They moved the last piece of decking into place and hammered it down before taking a seat. His back was completely healed, and except for scarring, he had no signs of ever having been injured.

Luke removed his work gloves and looked at his aching hands.
“Die Arewet iss net zu hatt.”

Matthew chuckled. Both of them were worn out and beat up. “Ya, not
too
difficult.” They sat in silence for a bit, resting, the cold air making every breath visible. “Phase two of getting the roof on is complete. Do we have the energy for phase three?”

“Not at this very minute, no.” Luke cleared his throat. “So you wanna tell me what the bishop said when he came to visit yesterday?”

“At the next communion, I may not be allowed to participate. He’s frownin’ really hard about me goin’ to the city to stay with a woman.” Matthew shrugged. “And he said I had no right to be engaged to an Englischer. Of course I reminded him that it wasn’t an official engagement and that her own bishop had been convinced she intended to join the church. He then began talking about the sin of being with a woman before marriage, like going to Baltimore for those two weeks meant I shared a bed with Elle. It wasn’t like that.”

“I believe you. Never doubted it. But what does Kathryn think happened between you and Elle?”

“I haven’t talked to her since she left for home two weeks ago, but she never spoke of it. You think she may be holdin’ on to that quiet-like?”

“Seems to me women are hard to figure. What might make one as difficult as a stinging nettle barely seems annoying to another.”

The bell rang, signaling lunch was ready.

Luke motioned. “Come on. Let’s eat and rest for a spell, then we’ll get back at it. I’d like to get the felt laid and half the roofing on by sundown.

“Sure.” Matthew wasn’t really all that hungry, but he’d go inside and eat. It was easier than seeing the lines of concern across his mother’s face.

Once they were on the ground, Luke placed his hand on Matthew’s shoulder. “Two weeks and no word from Kathryn, right?”

Matthew nodded.

“Well, for better or worse, I do believe you’re about to get a word.” Luke pointed at a car pulling into the driveway.

Kathryn sat in the front passenger’s seat, her head tilted down as the car pulled to a stop.

Luke smacked him on the back. “I’ll tell your Mamm you’re busy.”

“Thanks.” Matthew went to the driver’s side of the car, pulling his billfold out of his pocket. How had he managed to only have two girls in his life and both lived far enough away they had to travel by driver in order to see him?

The woman driver rolled down the window, told him the price, and took the money.

“If you’ll pop the trunk, I’ll grab her bags.”

“She doesn’t have bags in the trunk.”

Matthew glanced up, trying to catch Kathryn’s eye, but she was looking at the shop. No bags wasn’t good news. The driver left, and Matthew wasn’t sure how to begin the conversation.

Kathryn walked toward the shop. “It’s coming right along, ya?”

“Ya.” Matthew followed her.

The young woman had a head for business, a heart for people, and moods as steady as the passing of time. He only hoped she saw half as much in him as he saw in her.

She stepped through the framing and into the shop area. “I didn’t think you’d have the decking on already.”

“The aim was to have the roof up by the first of November. In spite of two days of rain when we could do nothin’, we’re still a couple of days ahead of schedule.”

“If I’d stayed and had things organized like you wanted, you could have worked in the barn, filling an order during those rain days.”

“I wanted you to stay. That part’s true enough. But I’m not all that interested in what buggy-building work could’ve been done.” He grabbed one suspender. “I take it you’re not stayin’.”

She tightened her black shawl around her shoulders. “I didn’t tell Joseph about you wanting us to see each other.”

“And you didn’t bring any luggage, so I guess I’ve hit the top prize, messing up our working relationship too.” He hadn’t really banked on the complications that could come out of this, but he was far more disappointed in losing her than losing a worker, albeit a really fantastic one. He figured she must care for Joseph a whole lot more than it appeared when he saw them together, but the truth was, none of it was his business.

She placed her hands on the framing, as if testing its strength. He studied the delicate lines across the backs of her hands, wondering what all she’d accomplish over the coming years. Like him, she was goal minded. Unlike him, she brought a sense of order to the chaos of each workday. He’d probably not even have the burned-out building removed by now if it wasn’t for her skill at organizing.

Kathryn turned to face him. “I didn’t tell Joseph because my reasons for not seeing him anymore aren’t because of us. He’s … safe, and as much as part of me wants that, it’s not good enough anymore.”

“But you’re not staying?”

“Your Mamm’s up to running her own household now. We dropped my luggage off at the Bylers’ before coming here.”

“This is sounding much better as we go along.”

“You’re not safe, and I find that scary.”

Matthew chuckled. “Joseph is, and it seems that’s not what you’re lookin’ for either—whatever safe’ means.” He stepped in closer. “Explain this safe thing.”

She shrugged. “I can’t, not really. I just know Joseph is and you’re not. You want to be. I believe that, but I’m not sure wanting to be is enough.”

“Safe.” Matthew gazed into her eyes, seeing a beautiful, steady woman, one whose friendship gave him strength. Elle used to drive him crazy with her passionate decisions that she put no thought into. Then when the emotion faded, she had no reason to follow through. “Does this feeling that I’m not safe have anything to do with me going to Baltimore with Elle?”

Her brown eyes studied him. “Should it?” The question wasn’t an accusation and didn’t hint of jealousy or insecurity.

“No. But the bishop’s got me on probation over it. If you’re willing for us to court, it’ll have to be kept private, real private.”

Her brows knit. “I don’t understand.”

“He’d forget the trip thing if he thought I was seeing a baptized member, and I’ll not use you to get out of trouble with the bishop. And I’ll not drag your name through the gossip that will take place if he doesn’t allow me to take communion.”

The lines of concern faded, and a beautiful smile moved clear up to her eyes. “A few years back, when the rumors about Hannah started, it wasn’t long before you became a part of them too. You and she were friends. She was pretty far along being pregnant, and you stuck by her—disobeyed the bishop about going to see her. You even stayed overnight with her when you took her to the train depot. That about right?”

“Yes.”

“When I heard the rumors, I hurt for Hannah—whether it was her doing for being pregnant or not. But as to your part …” Clearly hesitant, she paused. “It won’t make any sense. I mean, it’s just strange.”

“Strange? That can’t be the right word when talkin’ about me.”

She laughed softly. “My opinions are the strange thing, not you. See, I thought you
had
to be worth getting to know if you disobeyed the bishop to help her and yet were willing to return and take whatever correction he was gonna give.”

He stopped all movement, waiting to be able to breathe again.

“The idea of who you were had me curious.” She shrugged. “This current problem with the bishop is because you needed time away. You came back with your head on straight. I won’t hold going to Baltimore against you.”

She made him feel as if what they had could not ever belong to anyone else, and he wanted a name for her that no one else used. “Katie.” He said it softly, and the slow, warm smile that crossed her face said she liked it. Matthew lifted the strings to her Kapp and gave them a little tug. “Just where were you when I was going to every singing lookin’ for … for you?”

“In Snow Shoe, staying safe.”

The back door to the house slammed, and Matthew took a step back. “Are you willing for us to court?”

She nodded. “I am.”

Matthew glanced up, seeing Peter walking toward them. He moved his body slightly, brushing his fingers along Kathryn’s hand. “Then we keep it a secret for now, ya?”

She lifted her hand that he’d just stroked and stared at it. “Ya.”

He’d had no words to express his grief. Now he lacked them to convey his hope.