Sisters of the Quilt Trilogy

by Cindy Woodsmall

  The door at the top of the steps creaked open, and a half-dressed young man stepped out. “They don’t live here. Never have. We rent the place.”

  He might be Amish, but she couldn’t tell for sure since he only had on a sleeveless T-shirt and pants.

  He descended a few steps.

  Hannah backed up. “I’m sorry for interrupting you.”

  “No interruption at all.”

  Luke and Mary never lived in the home above the harness shop, both of which were built by the community just for them? Unwilling to ask any questions, Hannah went to her car.

  Opening the door to the vehicle, she spotted Katie Waddell’s white clapboard home amid fenced pasturelands. The once-worn footpath from here to Gram’s was thick with grass. Hannah closed the door to her car. Maybe it was time to push beyond her fears. She headed for the old farmhouse. Except for a few fences that needed mending, the place looked good. Her heart pounded something fierce as she crossed Gram’s screened porch to the back door.

  “Look at me, Hannah.” As if catapulted back in time, she could hear Paul’s voice and feel the soft rumble of his words against her soul. “I’ve been aching to talk to you before I return to college. There are some things I just can’t write in a letter.”

  She shuddered, trying to dismiss the memory and ignore the feelings that washed over her as she knocked on the door. No one answered. She peered through the gape in the curtains that hung over the glass part of the door and knocked louder. After several minutes she gave up, left the porch, and moved to the side yard, thinking Gram might be in the garden. But one look at the garden said no one had been in it for quite awhile. Paul’s old rattletrap of a truck sat under a pavilion near the garden, the hood up and the engine dangling above by a thick chain.

  Eeriness crawled over her skin as if she were trapped in one of those Twilight Zone episodes Martin had told her about. Whatever was going on, life seemed to have changed for everyone else as much as it had for her. She headed for her car. It was time to find the hotel near Harrisburg where Martin had made reservations for her and settle in for the night. She could have stayed at a hotel closer to her community, but according to Martin, the one he’d chosen was nicer: very safe, with breakfast included, and a business center in case she needed Internet access. Unfortunately she’d be stuck there all day tomorrow since it was a church day. Visits by estranged Amish may not be tolerated any day, but especially on a Sunday. And Matthew had made it clear she needed to wait until after the funeral to be seen by the community as a whole and by his family in particular. If that’s how strongly Matthew felt, her father would magnify that sentiment a thousandfold.

  Regardless of what it took, she’d get through the next few days with her dignity intact. They’d trampled her spirit once. She’d not give them another chance.

  Hannah.

  Paul woke with a start.

  The nighttime breeze rustled through the sheers of the half-open window. He turned the alarm clock toward him. Three a.m. Regardless of the time, it wasn’t likely he’d go back to sleep.

  He pushed her “Past and Future” quilt off him.

  “Past and Future.” Paul stood and began folding the quilt. Even in the dim glow of street lamps, he could see the handiwork of the Amish girl who’d promised to marry him. Last Tuesday he’d found her—seen her, rather—in front of an upscale Ohio home in the embrace of her husband.

  It was time to get this thing off his bed and out of his apartment. Mary had given it to him after Hannah left, saying it had more of Hannah in it than anything else. It was supposed to keep him warm until she returned and they wed. He wasn’t sure what to do with it just yet, but it wasn’t staying here.

  Dark gave way to light as he sat with a coffee cup and a stack of his clients’ files on the table in front of him. Reading and taking notes on Andrew Brown’s family, he continued to map out the issues each family member dealt with to see if he could find a common thread, a connected problem he was missing. He’d head for work, then go to Gram’s and mend a few fences before nightfall, but right now these moments without interruption belonged to him.

  The shrill ring of his phone ended his private study time, and he knew Monday had begun.

  He rose from the table and lifted the receiver. “Paul Waddell.”

  “Paul, it’s me, Luke. I hate to call you so early in the morning. Should have thought to contact you sooner, but it’s been crazy around here.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “I’m sure you’ve heard by now, but I thought I’d call anyway.”

  “I’ve been in the mountains all weekend, camped out with friends.”

  “E and L shops burned to the ground Friday.”

  Paul’s thoughts jumped to each person in the Lapp and Esh families. “I’m really sorry. Is everyone okay?”

  “No.” Luke paused. “David died.” His voice wavered. “And Matthew was injured. Aside from needing therapy and some scarring on his back and shoulders, Matthew will be fine.” Luke’s words came out quiet and slow. “David’s funeral is this afternoon, one o’clock, at our Old Order cemetery.”

  Funeral. Hating what this meant for Matthew and his family, Paul couldn’t manage to respond.

  “Things haven’t work out between Elle and Matthew, and … well … I think it’d do him good for as many friends as can to be there.”

  “Absolutely, I’ll be there.”

  “Good. I knew I could depend on you. But, uh, look, I should warn you.” Luke took a heavy breath and talked even slower. “Sarah found the paper you brought to the house with Hannah’s phone number and address. She called her and asked her to come home. We haven’t seen anything of her yet, but Sarah swears she promised to come for a few days and was supposed to be here two days ago. Sarah came up missing early Saturday morning, and when we figured out she’d hired a driver to take her into Harrisburg, we all went there looking for her. We found her at the train station, determined to wait for Hannah.”

  Paul appreciated the sentiments behind Luke’s explanation, knowing his friend was trying to prepare him for bumping into Hannah. “Well, if she does come, it’ll be a good time for your community and family to make peace with her before any more time passes. I’ll see you this afternoon, and if you need anything, just call.”

  Paul drove to work, second-guessing himself as to whether he should take the day off or not. He pulled into his parking space and headed for his office. Throughout the morning he tried to hear every word his clients spoke, but he found the clock jumping in time and he’d taken no notes during the sessions. It wasn’t so much knowing Hannah was supposed to come back as feeling concern for how her family would react to her. She bore few traits of having been raised Plain. That was obvious the moment he saw her last week—wearing a short-sleeved, thin cotton dress with no pleats while laughing and kissing a man.

  Feeling like a second-rate counselor, he checked the clock. “Andrew, our time is up for today, but if you can allow extra time next week, I’d like to go back over some of this.”

  “My wife likes what she’s seeing in me. I do too. Even m-my son seems better.”

  Andrew’s stumbling over the word my reminded Paul they had quite a bit of road to cover before healing included the father-and-son relationship.

  Paul rose. “I’d like to see your wife and children again as soon as it fits their schedule.”

  Andrew followed his cue and stood. “You’re a lot of help, Paul. I haven’t lost it with the kids for over a month.”

  He walked Andrew out of his office and down the carpeted stairway. They stopped at the receptionist’s desk, which sat in the large open area of the old foyer, dining room, and living room combo—all of which were furnished in home-style comfort for clients of the Better Path. The office space and mission was an old homestead, and everything in it was designed to retain the homey feel.

  “Halley, would you put Andrew on the books for the same time next week, and he won’t be charged for this week.”<
br />
  “Really?” Andrew looked surprised.

  Although guilt shadowed Paul, he couldn’t tell Andrew why he wasn’t charging him. It’d taken too long to build a rapport with the man to undermine his confidence with a confession of not hearing all he had said today. “Take care, Andrew, and I’ll see you next week.” He turned back to Halley. “Did you reach my appointments for this afternoon and reschedule?”

  “Yes. And Dorcas called.”

  Paul nodded. “Did she say what she needed?”

  “No, but she asked you to call her before you leave today.”

  “Okay, thanks.” Paul went back up the stairs and into his office. It’d feel good to talk with Dorcas, to try to connect with reality over any lingering dreams of Hannah’s returning to him.

  He lifted the phone and dialed the Miller home.

  “Hello.” Dorcas sounded tired.

  “Good morning. What’s up?”

  “Paul.” The excitement in her tone was undeniable, and he smiled.

  “Did you doubt I’d call back?”

  “I wasn’t sure how long it’d take you to get the message and then find the time. I wanted to remind you of Evelyn’s birthday today. Everyone’s meeting here for dinner. Your parents are arriving around five. I’d hoped you could be here by seven.”

  He’d totally forgotten about her sister’s birthday celebration tonight. “Did you hear about the fire in Owl’s Perch?”

  “Yeah, I heard. My mother’s cousin Jeanie called. That’s so awful.”

  “I’m going to the funeral, and I want to stay around here today in case there’s anything I can do for Matthew. Sorry.”

  “Oh.” She sounded disappointed. “I should have thought of that. Of course you’re going.”

  On a whim Paul came up with a plan she would like. “Since I’m pulling weekend duty at the clinic, I’m off tomorrow. I need to get some fences mended at Gram’s. Care to spend the day there with me?”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  “Well … no reason. You’ve just barely shown any interest in … well, you know, and your invitation is just surprising, that’s all.”

  He paused, willing himself to open up to her. “I’ve been thinking about things this morning, and maybe I’d held on to the idea of Hannah’s coming back because I didn’t want to admit defeat more than I actually wanted her back.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “I guess I should’ve figured this out way before now.”

  “Do you think she’ll return for the funeral?”

  “Maybe, but I’m sure you’ll feel better when you hear that she’s married.”

  “She’s married?”

  “Yes, I found out when I went to Ohio last week.”

  “I’m really sorry.”

  Confident she wasn’t all that sorry, he imagined she was probably relieved and quickly becoming hopeful. Paul placed his latest notes on Andrew into the appropriate file. “That’s nice of you, but it’s water under the bridge and long gone. Do you want to come to Gram’s tomorrow?”

  “Absolutely.”

  He slid the file into the cabinet and locked it. “I’ll come get you in the morning, and we’ll go out for breakfast first.”

  “Oh, Paul, that sounds wonderful.”

  “Good. I need to run. The funeral starts in an hour.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow. Okay?”

  “Sure thing. Bye.” Paul hung up the phone, feeling more on track with his life than he had in years. Why had it taken seeing Hannah married and happy before he could connect with his own life?

  He grabbed his suit jacket and headed for his car. Driving toward the cemetery, Paul was thinking about the Esh and Lapp families, wondering what, if anything, he could do to make this time easier. He’d sure like to help get the shop back in working condition—if they would accept his help. The community itself felt nothing but distrust for Paul, as if maybe it was his fault Hannah had been pregnant and had run away. Thankfully, Luke and Matthew didn’t feel that way, but whether Paul would be allowed to pitch in and help rebuild was another matter.

  Speculating whether Hannah would actually come home for this or not, he trailed behind the long line of horses and buggies as they slowly wound their way to the cemetery. Thoughts of the last two years with Dorcas floated through his mind. Maybe he hadn’t been waiting for Hannah to return. She’d been seventeen years old and six months pregnant when he left her standing there crying after him. Maybe guilt had more to do with his waiting all this time.

  The stark black buggies set against a nearby field with large rolls of golden, baled hay looked picturesque, but the reality of life, anyone’s life, never seemed to match the peaceful image of a quick glimpse. He parked his car near a group of horses and carriages in a dirt and gravel area across the street from the burial spot. Those who’d come to pay their respects quietly made their way to the site.

  Unlike most Amish funerals, all parts of the ritual would be conducted with a closed casket because of the fire. Their heritage kept them from having a photo to set up on a table near the casket like Englischers might.

  Hanging back with the other non-Amish neighbors, Paul spotted Matthew near the grave as men prepared to lower the casket into the ground using ropes. Matthew was the only Amish man here without a jacket on. It had to be due to the burns on his back. Since Paul had come to assure Matthew he had people who cared, he stepped around the crowd, including Hannah’s parents and younger siblings, and went to Matthew and offered his hand. “I’m really sorry.”

  Matthew didn’t even look up as he shook Paul’s hand. “Ya. It’s a miserable thing.”

  Luke caught Paul’s eye and gave a nod, and Paul returned it. Mary stood beside him, leaning heavily into her husband.

  He reached to clasp Matthew’s shoulder, but Matthew pulled away. “Second-degree burns leave the nerves exposed. It’s more pain than I can tolerate most days.”

  Wishing for the right words, Paul nodded. “I should have thought … Matthew, when you’re well enough and begin clearing the debris and rebuilding, I want to help.”

  Staring at the freshly dug hole, Matthew sighed. “Hannah came to see me Saturday.” He gave a stiff shrug. “I wasn’t sure what I thought of her returning—still not. But I’m sure I came across unwelcoming and—”

  An Amish man spoke loudly. “Dear ones, let’s bow in silence.”

  The weight of today settled over Paul as he closed his eyes. The gentle winds across his face and the warmth of the sun made the day one that should be enjoyed. Instead the focus was on loss.

  Death seemed like such an odd thing. One did not have to die or know anyone who’d died to experience it. Death came without pallbearers or grave sites. The death of a dream, hope, and even love. He hadn’t realized love could die. One day breathing. One day in poor health. One day dead. Never to be resurrected.

  But it didn’t have to be that way, not for every family that became ill. What had happened to Hannah and him had been horrible, but the death of a family—one that had taken a vow before God—that’s where he wanted to stop death. Like with Andrew’s family and …

  Another image of Dorcas filled his mind, making him long to connect with life. It was too precious and too short not to spend it on love and family. Life beckoned to be lived. Love called to be embraced. And he intended to do both.

  When the preacher said amen, another Amish man stepped forward and began reading a hymn while the pallbearers slowly placed dirt on the coffin. Paul looked through the crowd, praying for the families that were represented. Movement off to the left caught his eye. He glanced in that direction, just beyond the trees and near the shoulder of the road where a few cars had parked.

  Hannah.

  She was wearing a dark green dress and leaning against a gold Honda a hundred feet away. She removed the sunglasses from her face. An air of control and poise surrounded her like an aura. He thought she was right not to come too close, to ha
ndle this quietly and with no fanfare. Yet she was present for Matthew’s sake … and maybe her own. Even if her people could recognize her, they wouldn’t see her where she stood, not unless—

  “Hannah!” Sarah’s scream pierced the formality.

  Her father grabbed her arm. “Hush.”

  Every eye turned to where Sarah was looking and saw Hannah. Mary gasped and started to head for her, but Luke put his arm around her and whispered something.

  Sarah broke free of her father’s grip and took off running. “Hannah!”

  Zeb Lapp followed her, unable to keep up with her all-out sprint.

  Hannah dipped her chin and rubbed her forehead. Paul hated this. He wanted to step out and go to her, to give her at least one person as a shield against the murmurs and stares. Someone to be a friend. But he’d only make things worse for her if he did.

  He understood anew why she’d given up and left once she lost hope in their relationship. The reason she hadn’t returned—until her sister made contact, needing her—stared hard at him, and he got it. There simply was no winning inside Owl’s Perch for Hannah Lapp.

  Every person Hannah had known growing up turned to stare at her.

  Her Daed was still a good thirty feet away when he finally caught Sarah’s arm. “Stop this. Now.”

  But she flailed her free hand and kept heading for Hannah. “You came! I knew you’d keep your promise!”

  Her Daed lost his grip, and she took off again. He took long strides toward Hannah, and when his gaze met hers, she felt like an unruly child. “Well, do something.”

  Hannah read his lips and his expression more than heard his words. She nodded and closed the gap between them. Sarah grabbed her, almost knocking her over. Unexpected warmth flooded Hannah. No one could have made her believe the feelings she had for her sister right now. Sarah had caused such harm to Hannah’s life in the past. And yet the tie to her younger sister was undeniable.

  The hug lasted a good minute before Hannah removed her sister’s arms. “You have to go back now, Sarah. We’ll have all the time you need later.”