by Amy Lillard
“Are you staying?” Leah’s words were quietly spoken, but dropped like a bomb between them.
“I came home because—” I had nowhere else to go. Except she couldn’t say those words. “I came here until Mitch’s estate is settled.”
“Then what?”
Hannah shrugged in the darkness. “Brandon and I start over. Get an apartment, go back to school.” She hadn’t thought about it until just that minute, but she would need to get her GED. She would need a job. And money, if there wasn’t going to be any left over. She almost laughed out loud. Mitch had gone out and bought a yacht without her knowledge. She’d be lucky to get enough for a deposit on an apartment.
Then what?
“Dat thinks you’re staying.”
“I know.”
She heard the covers rustle and could barely make out Leah’s shadowy form as she pushed herself up on one elbow. “Did you tell him that?”
“I didn’t tell him that I wasn’t staying.”
“Hannah.” Her sister’s tone was filled with exasperation.
Hannah sighed and flopped back onto the bed, staring up at the darkness. “You don’t understand.”
“Try me.”
“I said you don’t understand, not that you won’t.”
“Try me anyway.”
Hannah sucked in a deep breath and shook her head, even if her sister couldn’t see. “You never did anything.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Leah noted.
“I mean you never got into any trouble. Mamm and Dat . . . they never had to get onto you or ground you.”
“That’s because they were too busy grounding you.” Leah gave a small chuckle.
“Be serious,” Hannah retorted.
“I am. You couldn’t get away with anything, which meant I got away with everything.”
That wasn’t exactly how Hannah remembered it. “I just wanted to go out and look around a bit, but instead I broke everyone’s heart.” Including her own.
“So you came back and made Dat believe that you are staying.”
“I let him believe what he wanted to believe.”
“That’s better.” Leah’s words dripped with sarcasm.
“Leah.” She wanted to protest, but Hannah knew that her sister was right.
“I’m just saying. If you let Dat believe that you’re staying, how is he going to feel when you leave again?”
She hadn’t allowed herself to think about that. It had been easy, considering how many other things she had on her mind. And now she had to deal with Aaron and his relationship with Brandon. “I don’t know,” she whispered.
“You could stay.” Leah’s words dropped into the shadows between them.
“I can’t stay.” Even as she said the words, the idea of staying ran through her head. She could stay, not worry about starting over. She could go home. Hide out. Not let life get to her.
And what would that solve?
Nothing. She couldn’t stay. She was just being fanciful. She had Brandon to think about. He might have been tickled with the car battery–operated phone charger that she had gotten him for his birthday, but that didn’t mean he could make a life there in Plain Country, Mississippi. She herself knew how hard it was to adhere to the rules and regulations in such a conservative district. People like Gracie, they seemed to fall right into their own lives, never having to adapt. Never questioning, never wondering if there was more beyond the horizon. If Hannah herself had had all those questions, and if she had such problems adjusting after living there her entire life, she couldn’t expect Brandon to be able to after being raised among the Englisch. It simply wasn’t possible. No matter how much he enjoyed spending time with Joshua and his other cousins. This would never be home to Brandon. He would always be just a visitor. She wasn’t one hundred percent convinced that she could fall back into the lifestyle once again.
But if her father thought she was staying . . .
“What are you going to do?”
Hannah fluffed her pillow and tried to get more comfortable, but the entire conversation was beginning to make her head hurt. “I’m going to go to church tomorrow and hope they don’t put me under an official Bann. Then after church, I’m going to Aaron’s house so he and I can talk about Brandon and what to do. Then I’m going to wait for my attorney to contact me about Mitch’s estate.”
“And that’s all?” Leah asked.
“For now that’s all I have.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sunday morning dawned bright and sunny, directly at odds with her mood. The minute she thought she had it figured out, something came along and swept her feet out from under her.
God is always listening.
He knew what trials she faced. She would just have to be faithful and be patient, but honestly, both seemed in short supply these days.
“I think the bishop may want to talk to you after the service,” Mamm said, as they washed the breakfast dishes.
Hannah nodded and tried not to let the pang in her belly get the best of her. Of course the bishop wanted to talk to her. She fully expected it. She had been back in Pontotoc four weeks. Four very eventful weeks. She couldn’t remain there indefinitely without making a decision about where she belonged. She had known all along that this time was coming; she had just thought she would have a better idea of what to do when it got here.
“I thought as much,” she managed to say.
“And what are you going to tell him?” Mamm handed her the last dish and wiped the counters down with the damp cloth.
Hannah dried the plate and stacked it in the hutch with the rest. “I don’t know.”
Mamm crossed her arms and eyed Hannah closely.
“What?” She really didn’t want to know what was on her mother’s mind, but she felt the need to say something. The look in those green eyes was too knowing for her own comfort.
“It’s time, Hannah Mae.”
“For what?” She was playing dumb, but she wanted to delay this as long as possible.
Mamm flicked an expressive hand toward her. “One day you’re dressed in a frack and kapp, the next you’re wearing your Englisch clothes. You can’t remain with a foot in each world indefinitely.”
The tension holding Hannah’s shoulders stiff wilted. “I know.”
“You know that, but you don’t know what you want to do?”
She knew what she wanted; she just didn’t see any feasible way for it to happen. Not now. Especially not now. She might have wanted, might have hoped and dreamed that there was a second chance for her and Aaron, but that had been blown apart yesterday.
She sighed. “I was hoping that Aaron and I . . .”
“Jah?”
Hannah shook her head. “But that’s not going to happen.”
“I’ve seen the way that boy looks at you.”
Hannah couldn’t stop her grin. “He’s hardly a boy.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes, Mamm. I do.”
“What’s the problem?”
Did she really want to get into this with her mother now? No, she decided. They needed to leave for church soon, and her mother would have more questions than could be answered in fifteen minutes or less. This was a secret Hannah would have to keep for a bit longer.
“Love isn’t the only thing we have to worry about.”
Her mother nodded sagely. “Jah. There’s the church, but I know they will vote to forgive you, and baptism classes start in the spring.” Her mother’s eyes lit up like sunshine through stained glass.
“Yes,” Hannah said. “Of course.”
But it was just one more lie on top of the mountain of lies she had already told.
* * *
“Hannah, a word.”
She tossed the remaining cups into the trash barrel and turned to face the bishop.
Amos Raber was a tall man with an iron-gray beard and fierce eyes. To tell the truth, Hannah had always been a little frightened of him. Maybe be
cause when she was younger she felt as if he held the keys to her redemption.
Now she believed differently, but he hadn’t lost any of his intimidation. In many ways, he held the keys to her future.
“Of course.” She dipped her chin and waited for him to continue.
“I’ll come to your house tomorrow morning.” The words held an ominous ring.
“I’ll be there.”
He gave a quick nod, then moved away to take care of other business, she was sure.
Hannah released a pent-up breath. She had known this was coming, but that didn’t make it any easier. Just as she knew she and Aaron needed to have a long talk. She was looking forward to that even less.
“Are you about ready to go?” Tillie bounded up, her grin as infectious as always.
“I thought you were going to ride home with Mamm and Dat.”
Tillie made a face. “I was supposed to ride home with Melvin.” She shook her head.
“Is everything okay?” As if she could help. Hannah had her own problems with no answers. She had no business handing out advice to her sister.
Tillie shook her head, her sunny disposition disappearing in a heartbeat. She looked first one way and then the other, as if making sure no one was around to hear what she had to say. “He thinks we should go away for a little bit.”
Hannah stopped. “Go away?”
“Jah. You know. Like take a trip.”
“Like to Ethridge?” Please, Lord, let her say yes.
“Like to Tunica.”
“Tunica!”
Tillie shushed her and glanced around again. “Not so loud.”
Hannah took her sister by the arm and pulled her between two of the parked buggies. People were milling in and out. Some were getting ready to leave, but with over two hundred people wandering around, how were they supposed to get any privacy?
“Tillie, you can’t go to Tunica.”
Her sister pulled her arm from Hannah’s grasp and sniffed. “Why not?”
“Well, there are casinos there, for one. What are you going to do in a casino?”
She shrugged. “You left and went away for years. Why shouldn’t I go somewhere?”
“It’s not like you think out there.” How could she explain the terrible decision she had made without revealing her own secrets? She couldn’t. But it wasn’t like she would be able to keep her secret forever.
“I’m going to tell you something,” she said, lowering her voice until it was barely above a whisper. “But you have to promise to keep it to yourself.”
Something in her tone struck a chord with Tillie. Her sister’s eyes widened, and she nodded.
“I would have come back a long time ago—years ago—but Jim wrote me and told me that Aaron was seeing someone else.”
“Lizzie?” Tillie breathed.
“Yes. And because of that, I’ve not had the life I feel I should have had.”
“But you could have come back,” Tillie said.
“I suppose I could have, but I didn’t think I could handle the rejection if he chose Lizzie over me. And Brandon.”
It took a moment for what she said to sink in. “Brandon?”
Hannah nodded. “Brandon is Aaron’s son.”
“Does he know this?”
“He does now. And Leah knows, but no one else. I need to keep it that way until we figure out how to tell Brandon the truth.”
Tillie’s eyes grew even wider. “Brandon doesn’t know?”
Hannah swallowed the lump in her throat. “No. It’s been my secret all these years.”
“Wow.” Tillie’s expression was one of wonder and awe. “Why are you telling me this now?”
“Because it’s all about choices.” She sighed. “I’ve made so many bad ones. Ones I can’t take back. Ones that are affecting my life to this day. I just don’t want the same thing to happen to you.”
Her arrow hit its mark. Tillie nodded, her expression more thoughtful than Hannah had ever seen it.
“It’s just for a while,” Tillie protested, though her tone was weak.
Hannah shot her a sad smile. “That’s exactly what I said.”
* * *
In the end, Hannah had to take both Gracie and Tillie home before heading over to Aaron’s. Thankfully she didn’t have to answer any of Brandon’s questions about her whereabouts. He had gone into town to go to church and eat with Shelly and her family. Since they knew Amish church would last over half the day, she wasn’t expecting him home until after supper.
But when she pulled into the drive at Aaron’s, Laura Kate and Essie immediately ran out to greet her.
“Hannah! Hannah!” they cried, “you’re here!” as if she hadn’t seen them less than an hour before at church.
Aaron came out onto the porch, his stance a little less enthusiastic.
“I thought we would have time to talk,” Hannah said as he unhitched her horse and turned her out into the pasture. That alone made Hannah feel that she was going to be here until they worked something out. No matter how long it took.
“Girls, go find your brother and tell him it’s time to go down to Nancy’s.”
Essie stuck out her lip in an exaggerated pout. “Do we have to?”
“Jah. You do.”
Hannah thought they might protest further, but they didn’t. With dragging footsteps, they ducked into the barn to find their brother.
“They don’t like to go to Nancy’s?” Hannah asked. Nancy Byler was a close neighbor to the Zooks. She was something of an odd duck, sweet as sugar, and very helpful. She didn’t have any children of her own and favored babysitting over any other ministry to foster the community.
“They would rather stay here with you.” Something in his tone seemed to accuse her. As if she were making his family care about her for some sinister reason.
Be fair.
She had lied to him about something big. Really big. And it was going to be a while before he would forgive her.
“Come on.” He motioned her to follow him into the house.
They were going to sit and talk, so why did it feel as if she were headed to her doom?
Because the world as she knew it was once again coming to an end.
When will this stop, Lord? I have surrendered all to You. When will this end?
“Have a seat. Do you want a drink of water or anything?”
Hannah shook her head as she sank onto the couch. Her stomach was pitching like a ship on rough seas. She needed to get a handle on herself before she was physically ill.
Aaron sat down on the bench across from her, his eyes intense. “Why?”
The question was simple, but covered everything all at once. In order to answer she would have to tell her story from the beginning, but she supposed she owed him that much. Maybe if she told it he would understand.
She sucked in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “When I left here, I only planned to stay gone for a couple of months. That was the agreement.”
“Agreement?”
She nodded. “Between me and Leah. She never wanted to go, but she didn’t want me to leave by myself.”
“Go on.”
“After a couple of months, I wasn’t ready to come back. But Leah was. I talked her into staying a little longer. By then I had met Mitch.” He was the embodiment of everything Hannah had been missing with the Amish. So sophisticated, so Englisch. At the time she had wondered if he held all the answers. If he could tell her what she had been missing; what she would be missing when she went back.
“Leah and I got into a terrible argument, and she left. I never told her, but that same day I received a letter from Jim telling me that you were seeing Lizzie Yoder.”
Aaron blew out a harsh breath. “This is my fault?”
“No. I take the blame. But please understand, I couldn’t come back here. I was unwed, pregnant. You were seeing someone else. What if you rejected me? What would I do then?”
“You think I wouldn’t have accepted my re
sponsibility?”
“Do you really think I wanted to be a responsibility to you?”
“I loved you!” His voice was nearing a shout, and he rose halfway out of his chair as he said the words. Then he cleared his throat and settled back into his seat.
“Then why did you start dating her?” Hannah hadn’t wanted to ask that question. It was something she could live without knowing. She didn’t want to hear how Aaron had fallen for Lizzie’s charms. But now that the question was out and hovering between them, she needed the answer more than she needed her next breath.
“You left without one word. I had no idea where you had gone. I had no idea when you would be back.” He shrugged. “I did the only thing I could. I started over.”
So much pain. So many mistakes.
“I did the same.” She pressed her lips together and gathered her thoughts before continuing. “Mitch was so excited.”
“He thought the baby was his?” A stain of dark red flushed his cheeks.
“No. He knew from the beginning, but he said he wanted a family. He was anxious for this immediate family.” Or so he had thought. But once Brandon was born, all Mitch could see was another man’s child. He had told her that very thing during one of their constant arguments. He had thought he could look past Brandon’s parentage, but he wasn’t able. And Hannah was stuck in a marriage to a man she had nothing in common with, a man who tossed her over the first chance he got.
But now Mitch was gone, and the man sitting across from her deserved a chance to be a father to the son he had never known he had.
“I might be able to understand why you kept this from me when he was alive, but why didn’t you tell me this when you came back into town?”
Hannah clasped her hands in her lap, unsure of what to do with them. “I guess I had been lying about it for so long that it never occurred to me to tell the truth.” She hadn’t thought of Aaron as Brandon’s father . . . ever.