by Beth Wiseman
“Ya. Gut.” Isaac eased around the corner toward the front door, then locked eyes with Hannah.
“And you remember my cousin, Mary.” She pulled her gaze from Isaac when she felt her cheeks flushing. She’d always miss Ethan, but her attraction to Isaac still brought on considerable guilt. But Isaac had finally decided to start dating, and Mary was the woman he chose, so Hannah needed to support his choice.
Isaac returned carrying both bookcases as if they were no heavier than a pail of grain, his muscles straining against his short-sleeved blue shirt. Hannah turned to Mary, who was clearly smitten with Isaac. Her cousin couldn’t take her eyes off of him.
“Danki,” Isaac said as he carried the two bookshelves past them and toward the back of the shop.
Isaac was a gentle soul, someone who loved animals, worked hard, and cherished the Lord. There was a time, long before Ethan, when Hannah had hoped things could be different between her and Isaac. They’d grown up together, and she’d witnessed his kindness for years, even when he didn’t know she was watching him.
Mary walked away, presumably to take a self-guided tour of the spacious store, and when Isaac returned from the back, Hannah said, “I hear you and Mary are going out Saturday.”
Isaac smiled. “Ya. She wanted to see the store and . . .” He looked around until he spotted Mary. “But I guess it will just be lunch instead since she’s looking around now. Phyllis and Tom took the morning off to go to one of their kinner’s school programs.”
“I think it’s gut that you have decided to date again. I know you’ve been busy taking care of your father. He looked like he was doing better at worship service.”
“Some days are better than others for Daed.” He scratched his chin. “I-I didn’t exactly ask your cousin out. She wanted to see the store and have lunch. Since she’s here now, I’m wondering if we will still go to lunch.”
Hannah fought the urge to spout something ugly since Mary hadn’t made bother to mention that she’d been the one to do the asking.
“There are some great pieces in here,” Mary said when she rejoined them. “Really beautiful.” She smiled. “See you Saturday. I’ll bring lunch.”
Hannah wondered how that might go since she’d never seen Mary prepare much of anything in the kitchen. Isaac nodded, so Hannah forced another smile and gave a quick wave good-bye.
How forward for Mary to ask a man out. She wanted to say something to her cousin when they got back into the buggy, but Hannah was afraid that Mary might notice a tinge of jealousy, so they stayed quiet for most of the trip. Right before they got home, Hannah couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Isaac said that you asked him out. Is that how it’s done in Texas? Because that seems . . . odd.” She straightened her back as she picked up the pace. When Mary reached for the dashboard of the buggy, Hannah sped up even more.
“I don’t think it matters who asked whom.” Mary rolled her eyes, and even though it appeared to be a playful gesture, it still fueled Hannah’s aggravation. But she stayed quiet as she recalled the way she’d pushed everyone away from her since Ethan’s death. She needed a friend, someone to confide in, to be close to. How could she fault Mary for wanting to spend time with Isaac?
She had another stop she wanted to make on the way home. It was a place she always visited by herself, but she wasn’t sure when she would have another opportunity to do so for the next few days, and she felt like she needed to be somewhere she could feel close to Ethan. Her feelings about Isaac and her cousin were confusing.
Five
Do you mind if we make a stop on the way home?” Hannah asked after a few minutes of silence.
“That’s fine.” Charlotte couldn’t shake the feeling that Hannah was judging her for asking Isaac out. Charlotte had spent the bulk of her life judging herself. She didn’t need anyone else doing it. But she wanted Hannah to trust her so she would open up more about Ethan, even though a part of her was terrified to know the details. But also heavy on Charlotte’s heart was the feeling that Hannah was somehow being disloyal. If she loved Ethan so much, then why was she jealous of Charlotte’s upcoming date with Isaac? Or was Charlotte misreading her?
A coworker once told Charlotte that she was too quick to judge a person. Charlotte hadn’t been able to argue with the woman. That was likely the reason she didn’t have many friends. She glanced at Hannah and wondered what it would have been like to have Hannah as a sister-in-law. Would they have been close, like sisters? Would Ethan eventually have accepted Charlotte into his world, and vice versa?
Charlotte was lost in thought as the breeze rushed against her face, the only relief from the heat. She tried to overlook the hint of manure wafting into the buggy. She glanced at Hannah again, then back at the car in front of them. Maybe Hannah deserved a second chance at love. With Isaac? The jury was still out, depending on what she found out about Ethan while she was here. Charlotte wondered when she would get her shot at happiness. She’d dated plenty of guys over the years, but it took tremendous effort for her to get close to anyone, and she usually ended the relationship before it really got off the ground. Sometimes she felt like she could explode with all the love she’d been holding back for the right person. So where is he?
Of course, it wouldn’t be anyone like Isaac, and she hoped that by asking him out she wasn’t leading him on. But where was this love that had eluded her all her life? Maybe only good people got that idyllic life: great family, friends, spouse, children. She realized that the only person she’d ever trusted was Ethan, which made the distance that had formed between them—geographically and otherwise—so hard. Despite their awful childhoods, they’d always been close, except for the two years they’d been separated by foster care and then later when he’d ended up in Lancaster County.
Hannah clicked her tongue, picking up speed along Lincoln Highway.
Charlotte’s knuckles weren’t as white as last time, but her heart was still racing.
“Where are we going?”
Hannah kept her eyes straight ahead. “A special place I like to go.”
Charlotte wished it was a mall. Or a hair salon so she could get her roots touched up, something she should have done before she made this trip. Her roots were going to be a problem if anyone in the King household got a look at the top of her head before she was able to use the box of hair dye she’d brought from home. She sighed, thinking how nice a pedicure sounded, knowing it would be at least a couple more weeks before she visited any of those places.
Thankfully, Hannah turned off the main highway, and she slowed the buggy to a trot down a narrow dirt road that didn’t have any wheel ruts or evidence a horse had been there recently. From what Charlotte had seen of Lancaster County so far, it was rolling hills with lush fields and manicured homes. It reminded her of the Texas Hill Country, except in Texas, there were very few silos, and the tall feed containers were plentiful here.
But this stretch of road didn’t resemble the pristine areas she’d passed by since her arrival. “A road less traveled,” she said softly as the sun peeked over a hillside in front of them. No houses in sight, no cattle, and after only a few minutes, even the buzz of cars on Lincoln Highway became faint, then disappeared altogether. Gangly stalks of greenery on either side of the road blew in the breeze, which seemed cooler all of a sudden—so much so, that the line of sweat that ran the length of her spine chilled for a few moments. Some tree branches arched over the road, so low the buggy barely cleared them. There was something peaceful about this place, if not a bit eerie. “Where are we?”
Hannah pulled back on the reins. “Whoa.” Once they were stopped in the middle of the road, Hannah stepped out of the buggy and tethered the horse to a tree. As Charlotte got out on her side, she eased up to Hannah, and again, she felt a shimmer of cool air.
“My special place.” Hannah offered only a faint smile as she motioned for Charlotte to follow her. Pushing back twigs hanging on both sides, Charlotte could see a narrow path.
&nb
sp; “What about the buggy? Can you just leave it in the middle of the road?” Charlotte stepped carefully. “Are there snakes here?”
Hannah continued to push the hanging greenery to the sides as she walked the path. “Nee, no one comes here. And there are no snakes.”
Hannah couldn’t know that for certain, so Charlotte kept her eyes peeled on the dirt path in front of her, her head ducked, and arms spread to keep from getting popped with a twig. She slapped at a spidery bug crawling on her arm. This was an adventure she could have done without. The silence was growing disturbing. Not even the sound of a bird chirping. She stopped walking and stiffened as a thought assaulted her. “Wait,” she said.
Hannah stopped, turned around, and lifted an eyebrow. “What’s wrong?”
Charlotte drew in a breath. “Is this the place . . . the place where . . .?”
“What?” Hannah gave her head a little shake before she put her hands on her hips. “What place?”
“Where, uh . . . your friend . . . uh, Ethan . . . ended his life?” Charlotte didn’t want to ever go to that place, and if Hannah was bringing her to Ethan’s hanging tree, Charlotte was turning back.
“Nee. Of course not,” Hannah said. “But this is where Ethan and I used to come. And I promise that once we get past these woods, you will love what you see.” She turned and started walking again. “Ethan loved it here.”
Charlotte couldn’t imagine that she would love whatever was on the other side of the wilderness, as she brushed away a spider’s web that Hannah had managed to avoid. But she was curious what her brother found so attractive here, so she marched forward in her black leather loafers that were ugly as sin, but the most comfortable shoes she’d ever worn.
The path ended, and as if walking through a doorway into another world, the forest was behind them, and Charlotte followed Hannah out onto a lush, freshly mowed clearing that looked as big as a football field. It was as lovely as any of the yards surrounding the Amish homes both in town and in the rural areas. As the sun swelled on the horizon, Charlotte brought a hand to her forehead to block the glare, but there was no denying the beauty kept secret by the thick forest surrounding this spot. “Wow,” she whispered as she took in the view. “I can see why Ethan liked it here.” Just saying his name caused a knot to pulse in her throat, so she pressed her lips together and kept following Hannah across the open field.
In the distance, she could see a small structure tucked into the tree line. “What’s that?” She pointed to her right as she quickened her pace and caught up with Hannah.
“It’s the original outhouse that belonged to the homestead that used to stand here. When Ethan tore down the house, I asked him to keep one thing that belonged to the man who used to own the property, since he was someone respected in our community. His name was Jonas Miller. He grew up in the farmhouse that used to be here, and he and his wife Irma Rose lived here for a while before they bought a house off of Black Horse Road. They both died, and this tract of land had been all but forgotten until Ethan stumbled upon it one day while out exploring.”
“It’s really pretty,” Charlotte said, being careful not to let her voice crack. She could almost feel Ethan around her. “Was Ethan . . . um . . .” She gulped, trying to harness all the emotion bubbling to the surface. “Was Ethan going to build a house here?” This was definitely a place he would have chosen.
Hannah nodded and smiled, even though her eyes were glassy. “He went to go see Sarah Jane, Jonas’s daughter. She’d forgotten about the property and happily sold it to Ethan.” She slowed her pace as they neared the lone structure with a half-moon carved into the door. “Much of this was still wooded, but Ethan began working to clear it, then decided he liked it this way, surrounded by the woods.”
She walked to the side of the outhouse and ran her hand along the side. There was a heart with the names Jonas and Irma Rose inside of it. Others had carved their names as well—Sarah Jane, Samuel, Lillian, Lizzie, and several others. She breathed in the freshly mowed grass. “Who keeps this mowed?”
Hannah smiled again. “I have no idea.”
Charlotte frowned. “How can you not know who is taking care of your property?” Or is it Ethan’s property? That thought brought up an interesting point. Charlotte had insisted that Ethan’s body be sent home to Texas, finally hiring an attorney to make it happen. But otherwise, she knew of no possessions outside of the small savings he had in Houston and the sparse furnishings in his apartment.
“Many in our district knew that Ethan and I loved this place, and I think someone is tending it out of respect to Ethan.” Hannah tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear. “I don’t know. I guess they will tire of it someday.” She ran her hand gingerly across the etched names, sighing. “Ethan and I were going to write our names here after we were married.”
“What’s that?” Charlotte took in a deep breath when she saw Ethan’s name etched across the small cross a few yards from the outhouse.
Hannah moved toward the cross and squatted down in front of it. “Ethan’s family told us we had to send his body back to Texas.” She glanced up at Charlotte. “He was raised in Dallas. Is that anywhere close to where you grew up or where you live now in Beeville?”
“No,” she said softly as she recalled their move from Dallas to Waco. That was when their family structure started to fall apart. Their father had an affair, and their mother never recovered from the betrayal.
“Anyway,” Hannah went on, “Ethan’s sister hired a lawman to make sure Ethan’s body was sent to Houston, which is where she lives. Ethan and I had talked about both being buried in our family cemetery someday. When I wrote his sister a letter explaining that, I didn’t even hear back from her, but the lawman got word to us.”
Charlotte’s shoulders had never felt heavier, like the burdens of the world rested on them as she tried to decide if Ethan would have really said he wanted to be buried here. She remembered reading that letter, but at the time, Charlotte just wanted Ethan home, and she’d placed full blame for his death on Hannah. During the first few weeks following her brother’s death, she needed someone to be accountable. Over time, Charlotte’s therapist had worked hard to try to convince her that Ethan was ultimately responsible for his own life. But Charlotte still struggled to accept that.
“So, is anything buried there?” Charlotte pointed to the cross.
Hannah stood up. “Ya. A few special things that both Ethan and I treasured. It was all I had, and I needed a place to come to mourn.”
As the sun settled behind some clouds, Hannah took a few steps to her left, sat down in the grass, then laid back. “Ethan and I used to lay here and find pictures in the clouds.” She looked up at Charlotte and grinned. “That must sound silly, but have you ever done that?”
Plenty of times. With Ethan. She nodded.
“Let’s find pictures now.” She patted the green grass beside her.
Charlotte let out a small grunt. “I was a kid when I did it. I mean . . .” She thought about Ethan lying on the grass staring up at the clouds. “Okay.” Easing herself onto the ground, she felt a bit ridiculous and thought briefly about ants and other creepy crawlies, but the smell and feel of the freshly cut grass instantly took her back to happier times, before things had gone bad between her parents. She was glad that she could recall those few good memories.
“What do you see?” Hannah folded her hands across her stomach and crossed her ankles.
Charlotte felt like she was six years old again. “I don’t know.” Clouds. Dark clouds.
They were both quiet as the sun continued to fade, but Charlotte turned toward Hannah when she heard her crying. With her face covered, Hannah said, “Every time I come here, I look toward the sky for some sort of sign that Ethan went to heaven. I beg God to let me know that my Ethan is there with Him. But I see nothing. Not even pictures anymore.”
Charlotte held her breath as an overwhelming need to comfort Hannah wrapped around her, but instead she just close
d her eyes, knowing she wasn’t going to see any formations in the clouds either. No answers. No visions. And no one to comfort her.
They were both quiet again, until Hannah sniffled and said, “Do you believe that Ethan is in heaven?”
Charlotte snapped her head to the side until she was eye to eye with Hannah. “If there is a heaven, Ethan is there.”
There was no mistaking the confused expression on Hannah’s face. “What do you mean, Mary? If there is a heaven?”
Charlotte was so tired of lying. It took way more energy than telling the truth, and one tiny web of lies was turning into a thick nest of betrayal. “Don’t you ever wonder? Don’t you ever doubt or question if there really is . . . a place we go after we die?”
Hannah didn’t look like she was breathing as she stared at Charlotte. “Nee. Not once have I wondered about that.”
“Then why are you questioning if Ethan is there?”
Hannah’s chest rose and fell as she drew in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Because some people don’t think you will go to heaven if you take your own life.” She turned to Charlotte again. “And I can’t imagine being in heaven without Ethan.”
Charlotte didn’t know what to say so she refocused on the clouds as they shifted across the sky, and eventually Hannah did too.
After a few minutes, she could see a picture forming, as if an artist with a brush was creating a painting right in front of her. When she realized what it was, she put a hand over her mouth so she wouldn’t gasp, but she couldn’t control the tears filling her eyes. She bolted upright, shaken, but never more thankful. Ethan is in heaven. There must be a heaven. Charlotte wanted to shout it from the rooftops, but Hannah would want to know what she saw and how Charlotte could be so sure Ethan was with God. Then her cover would be blown.
Hannah sat up quickly. “What did you see?”
Charlotte did what she did best. And told another lie.