She laughed. “Daed wants me home and … and Joseph.”
At twenty-two she was certainly old enough not to do as her father wanted, but she wouldn’t. “Don’t you think your Daed will give ya more time if I talk to him?”
She crossed her arms, looking like she might be giving weight to his question.
Still holding the letter, Matthew grabbed the laundry basket. “I guess the first question I should have asked is, are you willing to stay?”
Even if it causes problems with you and Joseph?
But he wouldn’t voice that last part. Why invite trouble?
She looked to where the shops had stood. Burned framing and caved-in roofs. “Getting a chance to see E and L come back to life? Ya, I’m willing to let you talk to my Daed about that.”
Matthew chuckled. “He is a reasonable man, right?”
“No doubt.”
“So what is his push to get ya back home lately?”
“I’m not sure, except maybe Joseph is putting pressure on him. My Daed has said from the beginning that he didn’t want me staying here so long that I might be tempted to put down roots in a community this far from home.”
“I guess I can understand that.”
“I’d rather find a way to juggle both, being here to help with E and L when needed and going home for a few days or so whenever I’m not needed. It’s expensive hiring a driver to take me the two hours to home and then drive back. But there’s no kind of job at home for me that comes close to the kind of satisfaction I get out of running your office.”
“I’ll talk with your Daed.”
“I went through the files while you were gone. Lots of the papers were partially burned, but I was able to figure out who’d done the ordering. I placed a bunch of calls and have a large stack of orders for you.”
“Ya figured out who made the orders from what was left of the forms?”
“That, and I remembered some of the orders, and the caller ID on the phone still worked, even after the fire. I was able to retrieve over thirty numbers and call people back to take their orders again.”
“And what if I’d not chosen to rebuild?”
“Then I’d have passed the orders on to a place in Indiana. We can’t leave people stranded. It’s just not right. And speaking of not right, you owe me no promises, ever, but if you give your word, you’d better keep it.”
“Or you’ll tell Mamm.”
Amusement danced across her face. “You got a better threat?”
“Yeah, but I’m not tellin’ what it is.”
She laughed and took the letter from him and ripped it in two before shoving it into her hidden pocket. Seriousness replaced her smile. “I’m sorry for the added grief you must feel, but I’ve had concerns about your happiness with Elle.”
“But you said you were praying for us.”
“Praying the best for you two. Before vows, it’s not a given that what’s best is marriage.”
Her words circled through his mind, and Matthew was hopeful that maybe Joseph wasn’t the right man for Kathryn either.
Matthew grabbed the basket, and they walked toward the house. “We have work to do and loss to cope with, but any sadness over things not working out with Elle took place long ago.”
From across the kitchen table, Hannah gazed into Mary’s eyes, wishing they were alone. With no way to know what was on her mind and no way of finding out until they went somewhere private, Hannah only knew the same thing she came here knowing—Mary had a secret, and she was scared. Mammi Annie sat in the living room, keeping a vigilant ear for every word spoken.
Hannah sipped her coffee. She’d finally been allowed inside someone’s home, and this was how the welcome played out? The rocking chair in the corner of the room creaked as Lissa swayed it back and forth while munching on a sandwich. The clock ticked on. It amazed Hannah how the sounds stood out in an Amish home. With no electric buzz from automatic washers, dryers, or dishwashers and certainly no televisions, radios, or entertainment centers, each home carried a peacefulness that Hannah loved—in spite of the stoic restraints that had to be navigated. But at nearly three in the afternoon, they needed to do something.
“We could go for a ride, but I get the feeling whatever is going on, we can’t talk with a little one in the car.” Her muted tones were quieter than the old timepiece ticking in the living room. Hannah wasn’t going to chance Lissa hearing something she could repeat to Sarah. Between Sarah’s emotional issues about babies and her ability to share things she shouldn’t, it could stir up a lot of trouble for Mary.
Mary’s half smile quivered, making dozens of tiny dimples in her chin. “We have to do something.”
The only thing Hannah knew to do was return to the Better Path. Although a bit unsure what they could do with Lissa while they talked openly, it appeared to be their best chance of communicating. Since Mammi Annie was listening, they couldn’t even whisper without the possibility of being heard.
If Mammi Annie were a little friendlier, Hannah might consider leaving Lissa with her while Mary and she went for a walk. But she had concerns about what Mammie Annie might ask and how Lissa might answer. Whatever tattered reputation Hannah had within Owl’s Perch, she needed to guard it for Sarah’s and Mary’s sake.
“Come on. It’s time we went to the Better Path. You need to talk to Paul about Sarah’s release, right?”
Mary glanced into the living room and rose. Hannah lifted Lissa into her arms, and the three left the Yoder place. As they drove down the narrow, paved roads, Mary kept rubbing her stomach.
“Does it hurt?” Hannah asked.
“No. I had a few sharp pains hit yesterday. That’s when I called you. Then they went away.”
“What type of pain?”
“The kind that hurts. What type of question is that?”
Hannah laughed. “A vague one, I guess. Where was the pain?”
“Right here.” Mary rubbed her right side near the upper part of her hip bone.
“How deep inside your body did it feel—just topical, like the skin being stretched, or deeper, like a muscle being pulled, or really deep, like an ache in the bone?”
Hannah listened carefully as Mary answered each question, knowing Dr. Lehman would want a complete report when she called him for his opinion. As the Better Path came into view, there were no signs of Daed and the church leaders. Hannah and Mary went inside with Lissa right beside them.
Maybe the argument with Paul had upset Lissa more than Hannah realized, because she clung to Hannah’s dress as they entered the building. Not one to be clingy very often, Lissa would be comfortable with her surroundings in a few minutes, but Hannah lifted the little girl into her arms. The conversation with Mary would just have to remain light until Lissa felt like playing at the tire swing or something.
They stepped inside the open space that included a large foyer, living room, and kitchen, with a lot of office doors off to the sides and a stairway that led to more offices. Five people, including Paul, were sitting in the kitchen. A freshly cut cake sat on the table, and they each had a plate with a slice. The soft chatter and laughs ended as everyone’s eyes moved to Mary and Hannah. Obviously they were sharing a special celebration break of some kind, but this wasn’t the quiet entrance into the place Hannah had banked on.
Paul excused himself and stood. “Hannah, Mary, right this way.” He left his half-eaten piece of cake and walked up the steps, leading them. Once on the landing, he opened a door. “If you use my office, everyone will think Mary’s here to read over things for Sarah’s release. Since her name’s been cleared concerning the fires and everything between her and the community is in good order, she’ll be released tomorrow, even though it’s a Saturday.”
Hannah, Mary, and Lissa stepped inside.
He glanced at his watch. “I won’t need my office for at least another hour.” He looked to Lissa. “You hungry?”
Lissa shrugged, but Hannah knew she was, even though she’d had a sandwich
at Mary’s place. The tiny girl could outeat the rest of the family and looked like she never ate anything.
Paul slid one hand into his pant pocket. “I bet you could make us both a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”
Her eyes lit up. “Are you hungry too?”
Paul nodded. “And Halley brought a homemade cake.”
Lissa stared up at Hannah, silently begging for Paul’s plan to be okay with her. Paul had nailed a way to get Lissa to leave Hannah’s side. “Go ahead.”
He glanced to Hannah as he was closing the door. She mouthed a “thank you,” and he nodded.
Mary checked the door to make sure it was secure and then leaned against it. Tears welled and began running down her face.
“What’s going on?”
Wiping her tears, she gazed into Hannah’s eyes. “I’ve made a huge mistake. If you can’t help me …”
“I’m here to do anything I can.” She took Mary by the shoulders, giving a gentle squeeze before lowering her hands to her side. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“While I was engaged to Luke, the doctor told me not to marry, not to do anything that might cause me to get pregnant. I didn’t tell Luke, and …” She slid her hand over her protruding stomach. “I didn’t want to lose him …”
Hannah knew this story all too well, not wanting to lose someone and not telling them the truth. “What did the doctor say was the specific reason for not getting pregnant?”
“He said the baby would be fine but labor and delivery could be really dangerous.”
“Mary, how could you do this?”
“At first I thought I was choosing to trust God with the marriage bed.” Her shoulders slumped, and she shook her head. “But you have no room to be mad at me. You hid your pregnancy from Paul.”
“Good grief, have you looked at my life?”
“But this is different, and I thought everything would work out. Please, we’ve got to find answers. I’m so scared for the baby, and Luke, and me.”
Unwilling to share the fullness of her displeasure, Hannah nodded. “Are you having any other symptoms—spotting or anything?”
“No.”
“Any tightening of your stomach muscles?”
“No.”
“Okay, we’ll start with a quick exam of your vitals. I need my medical bag out of the car. We’ve got to find you a local obstetrician, which probably won’t be easy at this point in your pregnancy.”
“I … I won’t see just any doctor. That’s how I got into this fix in the first place. They’re pushy and bossy and look down on the Amish. You know they do.”
“Not all of them, only a few.” Hannah shook her head. “I don’t even have a two-year-degree nursing license. If you think I’m the answer, you’re wrong.”
“Those doctors can’t be trusted now any more than when my mother refused to see them. Why, they just walk in, give orders, and you’ll do it their way, or you can take the highway.” She shook her head. “I’m really scared, Hannah, but for years I’ve heard about a slew of bad doctors working with Amish because we don’t sue, and it sounds safer to choose the highway every time.”
The absolute stubbornness was way too familiar to Hannah. No wonder they had bonded so well as children. They were like two mules in full agreement against all reason. And the fruit of it grieved her for both of them. “Mary, you’re tying my hands here, and the safety of you and the baby are at risk.”
“I thought …” She moved to a chair and took a seat. “Don’t you personally know a doctor around here that we could trust?”
“No, but maybe …” Hannah knelt in front of her. “Would you trust Dr. Lehman to examine you and then help us find a physician in the area? I think he’d know someone.”
“Would he do that?”
“He literally saved my life a few days after I landed in Ohio. He’s trustworthy, but it’s asking a lot for him to come here.”
Mary stood, grabbed the phone on Paul’s desk from its cradle, and held it toward Hannah. “Please?”
She took the phone and set it back in place. How long would Mary have hidden this secret if Hannah hadn’t come back to Owl’s Perch? “After we get some medical facts about what’s going on, you have to tell Luke everything.”
Mary backed up. “I can’t.”
“I won’t come back here and have a part in dishonesty again.”
“ ‘Dishonesty’ is an awful harsh word.”
“What you’ve done is harsh. I’m not sure you get that.”
Mary pursed her lips, and Hannah feared if she wasn’t careful, Mary would stonewall her too. Wishing she could see the truth of what she’d done, Hannah put her hand against Mary’s cheek. “Are you more concerned about falling off that pedestal Luke has you on than doing what’s right?”
“He’s going to be so mad at me.”
“Uh, yeah.” Hannah immediately regretted the sarcastic tone. “But you’d be mad at him too if he’d kept such a thing from you. And the longer he kept the secret, the angrier you’d be when you found out.”
Her friend stared off to the side before nodding. “Okay, I’ll tell him everything after we have word from the doctor.”
In the quiet of her hotel room, with Lissa asleep in the bed next to hers, Hannah ended the phone call with Dr. Lehman. Sleep had been impossible, but his opinion was in line with Hannah’s thoughts-Mary’s pains were due to pressure and stress on the round ligaments. He was off Monday and said it was time for another visit to Lancaster to see his mom anyway, so he didn’t mind going the forty miles out of the way to see Mary. He said he was actually glad for the invitation since he’d been wanting to see Hannah’s Owl’s Perch and meet some of the people from her past.
His willingness to always support her still managed to catch her by surprise. She sat back against the pillows, the Bible in her lap still open. Her damp hair continued to air dry from the shower she’d taken a couple of hours ago. In all the time she’d known him, Dr. Lehman had never let her down. He constantly trained her to take on more responsibilities at his clinic as a nurse, and sometimes he seemed to expect more from her than from his nurses with four-year degrees, but in many ways he was more like a dad to her than her own father.
Lissa sat up, rubbing her eyes. Without a word spoken, she crawled into the bed with Hannah and snuggled. So grateful for the love Kevin and Lissa brought into her life, Hannah stroked the little girl’s hair and kissed her head. “How are you this morning?”
“Hungry.”
Hannah rubbed her small back, enjoying the few minutes of having a child in her arms. “Well, then we’ll need to take care of that first thing, won’t we?” Hannah closed the Bible.
Lissa put her hand on it. “What it’d say this morning?”
“That if someone sins against me and asks for forgiveness, I’m to give it to them.”
“Did someone sinned against you?”
Hannah placed her hand on Lissa’s head. “I thought they did, and I’ve not been nice to them, but now I’m not so sure they did what I thought.”
“You were mad at somebody who didn’t do nothing wrong?”
Hannah slid out of bed, wishing she’d controlled herself rather than screamed at Paul. “Seems so.”
“You gotta ask for forgiveness now?”
That uncomfortable idea made Hannah’s insides shiver. “Right now I’m going to help you get dressed, and then we’ll get you some breakfast.”
After Lissa ate fruit, yogurt, half a bagel, and even some cereal at the continental breakfast the hotel provided, they went to the car and headed for Mary’s. Sarah should have been released from the Better Path about an hour ago and should be at Luke and Mary’s by now. Hannah needed to tell Mary what Dr. Lehman had said, and then she wanted to spend as much time with Sarah this weekend as possible, because when Hannah left this time, she hoped not to return for several months.
The scenery changed from city life to Amish country as Hannah drove out of the Harrisburg area and into Owl
’s Perch. As she traveled on, Gram’s home came into view. She’d once loved this place above all others. Taking note of how beautifully the house and acreage were kept, she spotted Paul mending a fence.
Instead of stopping, she pressed the accelerator.
She didn’t owe him an apology. He owed her one.
Her conscience pricked, making her skin tingle like dull pins were poking her. He’d given an apology, several actually, and his words couldn’t have seemed more sincere. She’d hidden things from him and then blamed him when he reacted. She clicked her tongue and huffed.
Lissa mimicked her and giggled. Hannah looked in the child-view mirror. Lissa’s innocent smile brought a landslide of conviction. What advice would she give to Lissa if she acted as Hannah had—regardless of how justified the reaction may have felt?
Notching the blinker into place, Hannah slowed the vehicle, turned around in a stranger’s driveway, and headed back to Gram’s. “Lissa, I need to speak to Paul for a minute, okay?”
“Think he needs another sandwich?”
“No, but there’s a bridge over a small creek near where he’s fixing a fence. You can play on that and toss pebbles into the water while I speak to him for a minute, okay?”
Her little face lit up. “A covered bridge?”
“Well, it’s surrounded by trees.”
Her head bobbed up and down as if she’d just been given an extravagant new toy. Hannah pulled into Gram’s driveway, hoping Dorcas wasn’t here today. In the side yard, not far from the house, Paul wrestled with a fence post.
She got out of the car and helped Lissa unbuckle, and they walked across the yard. With each step, Hannah questioned herself. Memories of their past caught her. Of course they did. What had she been thinking to come here? Except for a few extremely short visits, she’d never seen him anywhere but here. This was where they first met. Where they worked together. Where they became friends. Where she’d fallen in—
Stop it, Hannah.
But the memories didn’t stop. A weird feeling crept over her when she caught a glimpse of the bridge through the turning shadows of its surrounding trees. As if in those woods she could again see Paul standing in front of her—broad shoulders, hair the color of ripe hay, blue eyes that used to haunt her dreams.
Sisters of the Quilt Trilogy Page 78