Anathema

by Colleen Coble

  The children had their hands in their laps. “Naomi, would you like to pray?” Hannah asked in her rusty German.

  Naomi nodded, and both little girls clasped their hands and bowed their heads. Hannah listened to the silence and remembered her own family. Luca had asked her not to endear the children to her, but she found it impossible not to talk to them and interact. By the time the meal was over, they were chattering to her as though she was their best friend. They helped her carry the plates back to the kitchen.

  Luca stopped at the sink and glanced at her. “It’s good you have come back, Hannah. If there ’s anything that belonged to your parents here, feel free to take it.”

  Hannah wondered if he might know what had happened to the ring. “Luca, would you happen to know—”

  “Hannah, could you hand me those plates?” Sarah broke in with a desperate edge to her voice.

  Hannah blinked but handed over the plates stacked on the table in front of her. Sarah was accepting a favor? As Sarah took the plates, Hannah saw the plea in her eyes.

  “Thanks. Matt, I’ve got some scraps you can feed the dog.” Sarah gave the bag to Matt.

  Sarah didn’t want her to talk to Luca about the ring. Hannah decided to hold her tongue, but only until tomorrow when she could talk to her friend alone. Maybe Sarah would finally tell her what was going on.

  “I’m going to go out and feed the cats,” Hannah said. She grabbed the cat food from the back porch and carried it into the yard. Three of the cats came running, but Spooky was still missing. Matt followed her, but he didn’t say anything and walked off toward the woods.

  Did he suspect someone was out there? She hurriedly finished feeding the cats and went back inside.

  “Have you seen Spooky?” she asked Asia. Through the window, the trees drew shadows against the backdrop of night. Her family had already headed to bed.

  “Not since this morning,” Asia said.

  “Maybe Matt has him.” Hannah stepped to the back door and peered out to where he stood staring off into the woods. His stance conveyed lone-liness. Had he been watching for intruders or just craving some alone time? Interacting with the big family could be an intense experience. She couldn’t read his expression in the darkness. The backyard swallowed up any hint of illumination from the stars, and there was no moon. She slipped out to join him.

  “Something wrong?” he asked.

  “Have you seen Spooky?”

  “Like I’d be looking for a cat.”

  She’d forgotten how much he hated cats. “Maybe he’s with Ajax. Where is he?”

  “On the step.” He pointed out the dog, who had pricked his ears at the sound of his name. Ajax rose and stretched, then padded over to nuzzle her hand.

  Hannah didn’t want to admit to her worry, but her mild misgiving ramped up to alarm. “He never stays away at mealtime. He loves his food.”

  “Did you try calling him? Maybe he ’s lost in the woods.”

  Hannah didn’t want to admit something might have . . . eaten him. “I’ll go look.”

  “Look, it’s a cat. He ’ll be fine. Don’t tell me you’re one of those who think cats will climb a tree and then not be able to get down.”

  “He’s a good climber. I’ll go find him.”

  “Not without me. Reece could be out there. I’ll grab a flashlight.” Matt went past her into the house and returned moments later with a flashlight and a kerosene lantern. He gave her the lantern. “You take that since you know how to work it.” He called his dog to him. “You got anything of Spooky’s?”

  “His bed.” She took the lantern, then ran to grab the pad from the back porch. “Here it is.” She handed it to Matt.

  He held it under Ajax’s nose. “Find Spooky, boy.” The dog whined, then put his nose to the ground and began to pull Matt toward the woods. Matt flipped on his flashlight and went with the dog.

  Hannah followed the wide beam cast by Matt’s flashlight. “Here, kitty, kitty,” she called. “Spookman, where are you? Pur-r-r.” She made the purring sound that usually had the cats running to her.

  “There’s a wild patch of catnip over this way,” Matt said, pointing to the left. “Ajax is leading that way. Let’s see if he’s there.” He unhooked Ajax’s leash, and the dog bounded ahead.

  Hannah raised the lantern high and let its beam radiate through the trees as they entered the woods. The cool, damp air smelled of moss and dead leaves under the new vegetation. She stumbled over a fallen log and nearly fell. Stopping to catch her breath and her balance, she listened for a plaintive meow but heard nothing but frogs in the pond and the whir of mosquitoes dive-bombing for her skin.

  Matt was a few feet ahead of her, and some whisper of alarm made her hurry to catch up with him. “You see anything?” she asked when she touched his arm and found it hard and tense.

  His other hand covered hers. “Shh, I thought I heard something.”

  She held her breath, listening to the night sounds of the forest. Then a faint sound reached her ears. A meow, she was sure of it. Ajax leaped from Matt’s side, and they heard him rustle through the weeds before the sound of his movement faded away.

  “Ajax, come back here!” Matt called.

  Hannah ran after the dog. “Maybe he can lead us to Spooky.”

  “Not if he goes too far too fast.” Matt caught her arm. “Don’t go rushing off. It might be a trap.”

  “A trap? It’s a lost cat.”

  “Maybe. Your cats are used to roaming and coming home. So why didn’t Spooky?”

  She tugged on her arm. “Maybe he’s hurt.”

  “Maybe. But it’s my job to protect you.”

  For some reason the bald words stung. She wanted him to protect her because he cared, but that was stupid. The interlude in the barn this afternoon must have meant nothing to him. She managed to pull her arm free, then moved forward, finding her way through the brambles and vines that tried to trip her up. The light from her lantern wavered and bounced, making the twisted branches and low shrubs look menacing. Matt’s paranoia was affecting her.

  “Spookman?” she called again. “Here, kitty, kitty.” The meow came again, an outraged sound that bounced off the trees. He was still some distance from her location, and she couldn’t quite tell which direction to head.

  Matt caught her arm again. “This way.” He pulled her to the right. A small creek barred their way. “Careful, the rocks will be slippery.”

  Hannah stepped out onto a rock. Cold water soaked through her shoes. The rocks almost seemed to roll under her feet, but it was only moss trying to shed her from its surface. Balancing with her outstretched arms, she tottered across the stream and only fell to her knees with the last leap onto the wet bank.

  “You okay?” Matt hauled her up as if she weighed no more than his dog.

  “Fine.” She brushed at the wet mud on her skirt. The cry from her cat came again. “He’s over this hill.”

  “Yeah.” He took her hand and helped her up the slippery hillside.

  The warm embrace of his hand around hers made it seem they were actually partners—and congenial ones at that. What might their relationship become if they could get past their previous hurts and move on to a new life? She was such a coward—she hadn’t even wanted to face the trouble of divorcing Reece.

  Matt battered through some arching brambles and held them out of the way for her. She stepped into a small clearing with him. Holding her lantern high, she turned in the meadow. Metal caught a beam from the light and bounced it back at her. Eyes glowed through the wire. A cat’s eyes.

  Spooky paced a small cage placed in the center of the clearing. His plaintive cries rose to a crescendo. Ajax circled the cage and whined his sympathy. He pawed at the door. Hannah started forward, but Matt grabbed her arm.

  He grabbed a stick and prodded the air and the ground with it before he approached the cage. Ajax began to bark, obviously thinking it a fine game.

  Hannah started to follow Matt, but a hand smelling o
f onions clapped over her mouth. An arm came around her waist and pulled her back, dragging her into the bushes. She thrashed against the man and dropped the lantern. She tried to scream, but the animals were making so much ruckus that her muffled screech didn’t get past the strong hand. She thought she heard Matt calling her name in the distance. Reaching out, she grabbed at branches, but they were too thin and weak to support her and she was left with leaves.

  “Sh, Hannah, don’t make a fuss.” Reece ’s lips touched her ear, then traveled down her neck in a trail to her shoulder.

  She shuddered when she realized who held her, then began to struggle more wildly. If only she could get her teeth into his hand. He dragged her farther away until she could barely hear the bark of the dog in the shrouding trees.

  He shook her. “I said be quiet. I’ve got a gun, Hannah. Want me to shoot Matt?”

  Hot moisture burned her eyes, and she blinked rapidly. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her frightened tears.

  “Good girl,” he crooned. “I’ve missed you, Hannah. The smell of you, the taste of you.”

  He nuzzled her neck, and bile rose in her throat at the sensation of his whiskers. A tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. He licked that up too. Matt called her name from somewhere.

  “Sweet Hannah,” he whispered. “I know you’ve missed me. Our little girl misses her mother. We can be a family, my love, the perfect little unit. Just come home with me now. I’m going to take my hand away if you promise not to scream. Do you promise? Remember, if Matt comes running, he ’s a dead man.”

  She nodded. If he didn’t take his hand off her face soon, she ’d faint. He nuzzled her neck again, then raised his hand from her mouth. Before she could react, he flipped her around to face him. He dragged her tightly against him and buried his face in her neck again.

  She managed to get both palms against his chest and shoved hard enough to gain a few inches. “Get your hands off me. You’re a murderer. You killed my parents, and Moe and Aunt Nora. I have proof !”

  He pinned her arms to her sides. “What proof?” His voice went harsh.

  Now that he was in front of her, hatred swallowed her fear. He was still lying, still manipulating. “The picture you sent. The little girl is sitting on one of my mother’s quilts. That means you had access to them when you got rid of her.”

  Now that she was in his presence, she knew. Her soul recognized the evil in him.

  “No one will believe you. Besides—” He broke off and shut his mouth. “Never mind.”

  “Where is she?” Hannah demanded. She began to strike at him with her fists, but she was no more effective than a kitten pawing at a tiger. Her hands struck his suspenders. “Where is my baby girl?” The words choked off. She could see him smiling in the faint glimmer of light through the trees now that her eyes had adjusted.

  “Have you asked Matt about her?”

  “What’s Matt got to do with this?”

  Before Reece answered, Matt called Hannah’s name again. His voice sounded closer. Reece released her. “Ask Matt if you can meet his daughter. See what he says.” His hands fell from her body, and he melted into the shadows.

  Hannah stared into the darkness. Where had he gone so quickly? Matt yelled for her again. “I’m here,” she called.

  He broke through the underbrush and found her. “What happened?” He carried the lantern she had dropped. Ajax loped at his feet.

  “Reece grabbed me.” Hannah wrapped her arms around herself. The shakes began then, shuddering through her frame. She swiped at the wetness still on her cheek. Disgusting.

  Matt lifted the light and came to her side. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Which way did he go?”

  “I—I’m not sure.” The darkness and trauma had left her disoriented. “Don’t leave me.” She hurtled into his arms. Before she realized it, she had wrapped her arms around his waist and was nestling against his chest. She fit nicely. His chin just touched the top of her head. She liked the scent of his cologne, something spicy and masculine.

  “You’re shaking,” Matt said. He grasped her shoulders and pulled her away. “Let’s get in the house. I want you safe.” He handed her the flashlight and lantern, then returned to fetch Spooky.

  She shone the way with the flashlight. Safe. With him she was safe. But she’d thought that once about Reece. She wasn’t a good judge of men.

  They were back at the house none too soon for Hannah. Asia had gone upstairs.

  Matt pressed her onto the sofa in the sitting room. “You need some water?”

  “No, I’m fine.” And she was. In the rays of the sputtering gaslight with home around her and Matt here with her, she knew Reece could never touch her.

  Matt sat beside her. “You’re pale.”

  “It’s okay. He wanted to scare me.”

  His arm came around her and pulled her to him. “What did he say?”

  “Nothing, really.” She shuddered. “I told him I knew he’d killed my family. I’m sure the girl is my daughter. The quilt under the child connects him to the murders. Reece had access to the quilts only if he killed my parents.”

  Matt stilled. “Anything else?”

  She wasn’t about to tell him that Reece had insinuated Matt might know something. Reece had sensed her feelings for Matt and was trying to destroy them. She leaned her head against his chest and fell silent.

  Heaven. The scent of his breath, the hard muscles of his chest under her palm as it rested against his shirt—this was heaven as she ’d never known it. It had been so long since someone looked at her as if she was a real person.

  Hannah realized this emotion she ’d been fighting for days was love. Matt was the kind of man she’d always longed for. Peace and safety settled around her until she realized the position she ’d put them both in as she sought comfort. She wasn’t divorced.

  “Ask him about his daughter.”

  Why would Reece say that? Was it only to twist her emotions about Matt up in knots? Did he think Matt wouldn’t want her to see his daughter? She didn’t want to think. She straightened and pulled away from his embrace. He immediately released her. Reece never would have done that. He would have taken it as a personal challenge to force her to yield to him.

  “I’m sorry. I’m moving too fast,” he whispered. “I care about you, Hannah. I want to see you, to take you to dinner. Make you laugh. See your hair on your shoulders in the candlelight. When you’re free to do that.”

  What woman’s heart wouldn’t be stirred by those poetic words? But maybe he was just practiced at it. Hannah swallowed past the lump in her throat. She should ask him about what Reece had said, but she didn’t want to bring strife into the room with them. She wanted to cup his dear face in her hands and kiss him. But the question had to be asked. She had to know what Reece meant.

  “Could I meet your daughter?”

  Matt went still, and his smile faded. “Where did that come from?”

  “Reece said I should ask you about your daughter. What did he mean?”

  The warmth blinked out of Matt’s eyes. He rose from the sofa and turned his back to her. “Who knows what a madman thinks? We ’d better get to bed.”

  “Could I see a picture of your daughter?”

  “I don’t have one with me.” He stood and held out his hand. “Let’s forget tonight ever happened.”

  Forgetting about it was the last thing she wanted. Was he hiding something?

  twenty-two

  “The Amish Center Diamond Quilt is beautiful in its simplicity. It

  captures in a lovely image the belief that God should always be at the

  center of all decisions and life choices, that he is supreme.”

  —HANNAH SCHWARTZ,

  IN The Amish Faith Through Their Quilts

  Matt sponged himself off with warm water heated on the woodstove. He towel-dried his hair with a vengeance, then jerked on jeans and sneakers to dash to the outhouse and ba
ck. The sun was peeking through the window as he went back to the sitting room and folded his sheets. He hadn’t gotten much sleep last night with the ferocious thunderstorm that had crashed overhead until early this morning.

  He should have known better than to let himself care. All he had to do was keep his distance and wait for Hannah to leave, but no, he ’d had to go make a fool of himself. He was weak, and even worse, he was a fool. She had the power to rip his world apart. He needed to keep her at arm’s length. For all his preaching to Blake about the sanctity of marriage, he ’d ignored the fact that she was legally bound. Where did the boundaries lie with God? Surely God didn’t want her to go back to an abusive man, one who might even be a murderer.

  Being with her was like peeking into a different world—a place where he might actually find love again. But it couldn’t happen, not now. He’d never give up his daughter, and Hannah would never forgive his lies.

  The rest of the household stirred overhead. Floorboards creaked and a door scraped open. The steps groaned under someone’s weight, then Hannah stepped into view. Dressed in a denim skirt and yellow blouse, she looked as bright as a daffodil.

  “Sounds like your family is up,” he said.

  “I’d love to make pancakes for them this morning before we go to Aunt Nora’s funeral, but they won’t accept any favors from me.” She wasn’t looking at him.

  He knew he should shove his feet into his shoes and get the heck out of Dodge, but instead he stepped closer to her. “Hey, I’m a mean wielder of the spatula. How about you mix it up before they get down and I’ll do the cooking. They won’t say a word.”

  Her smile turned hopeful. “You cook?”

  “You question my culinary ability?”

  “Of course not. I know you can do anything.” She smiled, and a steady faith burned in her eyes.

  She made him believe he was Superman. How did she do that? He followed her to the kitchen and made coffee while she put on an apron and assembled her ingredients.