“Never steal from me? What do you think you’ve done?”
Dorcas broke into fresh sobs, and his dad passed her a box of tissues. While Paul stood there watching her, a memory hooked on to something inside him, and he tugged at it, like reeling in a fishing line.
The day after he’d asked Hannah to marry him, he was here in his parents’ home, writing her a letter, when his sister and Dorcas came into his room and interrupted him. He’d penned the fullness of his heart in those pages, and receiving it would have meant so much to Hannah. Those days had been unbelievably trying, nearly impossible to make contact and keep up with each other’s life. What were the odds of the only letter his sister and Dorcas knew about being the one that disappeared?
“Did you steal the letter?”
Dorcas’s hands fell limp to her side, and her head remained bowed. “Yes.”
His sister stepped forward. “Paul, you know enough of the truth. Please stop.”
Disgusted with Dorcas, he turned and walked out of the house. He got in his car and started driving. He hadn’t started out trusting Dorcas. The whole time they went to middle and high school together, he thought she was selfish and manipulative, but when she was receptive about Hannah, he convinced himself she was a decent and honest person. He should have trusted his gut.
The years of betrayal played through his mind; the ache over all he’d lost by trusting Dorcas seemed to circle endlessly inside him. More than two hours later he pulled into Gram’s driveway. He walked across the dark yard, through the pasture, and into the patch of woods. He didn’t stop until he was at the footbridge that crossed the creek. This was where he’d asked Hannah to marry him. The place where everything he’d ever wanted seemed to become possible. As clearly as if it’d happened yesterday, he remembered Hannah whispering yes to his proposal. It’d taken a few minutes to convince her that he was serious, that he had no one else on campus, and that they would find a way to win her father’s approval.
He’d lost everything he’d ever hoped for due to a violent man, his own knee-jerk reaction, and Dorcas’s manipulation. What Dorcas had done under the guise of friendship and warmth was unbelievable.
The price he’d paid—incomprehensible.
Even now, hours later, his hands shook. Looking down at the creek bed, watching the dark water ripple along its winding, twisting path, his thoughts turned to all the things this liquid would do before most of it flowed into the ocean: provide nutrition for the tiny creatures that lived in it, supply water for nearby trees, cattle, and wildlife. It’d smooth stones and bear life. Some of it would evaporate and sprinkle down no telling where in the world.
God had ways that couldn’t be seen or calculated from a small bridge while watching the beauty of dark waters pass under his feet. Everything in life carried more, accomplished more than could be seen with the naked eye or even imagined.
He prayed that both Hannah and he would accomplish more than either of them could see or imagine. But their courses had been altered. His was still free enough he would welcome—no, he’d be ecstatic to have her back every second of every day for as long as they lived. But she would have to have her heart ripped out again to return to him.
Inside Alliance Community Hospital, Hannah shoved her timecard into the slot and punched out, ending her last round of clinical rotations for nursing school. The Saturday shift ended two hours earlier than usual for the students, and ideas of trying to squeeze in a visit to Mary pulled on her. Hannah needed to talk to someone who would understand her feelings about Martin and babies and birth control. Mary would get it.
Hannah wanted perspective before mentioning the news to Martin. It’d been ten days since Dr. Lehman told her she might not be as infertile as she’d thought. Martin had to know, but first, Hannah needed to figure out her own thoughts and feelings about it. She and Martin were having enough trouble communicating of late. The last thing she needed to do was start a difficult conversation without knowing her own mind and heart.
Talking to Mary was the answer. Hannah was sure of it, but she couldn’t do it over the phone. The girl would freeze to death in the phone shanty before Hannah finished explaining the mess. Besides, Mary had a baby to tend to. But what about Martin? She’d been at work or school so much lately that they’d had no time together. Still, she needed to find some answers to help strengthen their relationship. Finding peace on this birth-control topic was more important for Martin and her than having a date night.
Confident of what she needed to do, Hannah unlocked her car door and called Martin.
“Hey, sweetheart, I’m on the other line. Can you hang on a minute?”
“Sure.” Hannah turned the engine, warming the car while waiting. About the time warm air started to flow, Martin came back on the line.
“Hey, I’m back. What are you doing calling at this time of day?”
“I got off early.”
“Good. That works even better. Vance Clarke … I don’t think you’ve met him yet. He’s Amy’s dad, and he’s passed us four TobyMac and Jeremy Camp concert tickets. Kevin and Lissa are psyched. It’s at the Canton Civic Center tomorrow, and I was on the other line making reservations at a hotel, so—”
“At a hotel?” Hannah interrupted him. “Canton is what, thirty to forty minutes from your place?” She laughed, trying not to sound like a wet blanket.
“It’s an adventure, Hannah. The kids get it. Try to keep up,” Martin teased.
“Am I familiar with TobyMac’s and Jeremy Camp’s music?”
“Sure you are. We sing a couple of their songs. Remember the—” His voice cut out, letting her know he had another incoming call. “Hey, Amy’s dad is on the other line. He probably wants to know if we’re able to use the tickets.”
“Martin, you guys go, but I want to slip to Owl’s Perch and see Mary. I’ll be back to your place before you are tomorrow.”
“What? No,” he snapped. “Hold on.”
The line went silent for a minute or two.
“You still there?” Martin’s voice said it all. She’d ruined the fun.
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“Since when did you decide traveling four hours one way is slipping to your friend’s house? And why are you letting all these visits come ahead of us?”
“It’s not like that. I just need to talk to her about some things.”
“Then call her. Come on, Hannah. The concert will be fun.”
She’d never been to a concert. She imagined booming music, multicolored electric lights flashing everywhere, and people center stage enjoying the limelight, like the concerts Martin had on DVD that he liked to watch. It was so far removed from the Plain life that she wouldn’t be able to enjoy it. Besides she really wanted time with Mary.
“Fun for who?”
“For whom,” he corrected, “and obviously not for you.”
“You have four tickets. Let Laura use mine. And I’ll see you as soon as you get home tomorrow.”
“Laura’s over sixty. She wouldn’t want to go.”
“She’s a well-paid nanny, and she’ll help with the children.”
“This stinks. I’ve already told the kids and made reservations. I can’t back out.”
“And you shouldn’t. You want to go to the concert, and I want to see Mary.”
“Hannah.” He said her name like he was scolding a dog. “For once, could you—”
“You know,” she interrupted him, “it’s not my fault you made the plans and told the children before talking to me. But if you had, I’d say the same thing: go, have fun. I’ll go to Mary’s, and we’ll meet back at your place before sundown. What time is the concert?”
“Six.”
“Oh, well then, I’ll meet you back at your place after the kids’ bedtime on a school night.”
“There’s no need for that tone. They’ll be fine. Laura can take them to school an hour or so late if need be.”
“And you’ll be fine going without me, okay?”
The phone was silent again.
“It was my last clinical rotation. I only have one more full week of school and then one day of finals the following week. Then I’m through. Yay! I’m even thinking of breaking out the pompoms for this.”
“You don’t own any pompoms.” The frustration in his voice faded into jesting. “But I’ll buy you some … and maybe a cheerleading outfit to boot.”
She laughed. “I’d really like to see Mary before we leave for Hawaii, and making a quick trip this weekend is my only chance.”
“Yeah, okay.” He sighed. “I figured you’d balk at going.”
Which probably explained why he made so many plans first and then told her. She wondered how often that worked in his favor without her realizing what he’d done.
“Are we good?” she asked.
“As good as we get, I suppose. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
“Martin, wait.” She couldn’t stand the idea of them arguing like this. “I know it seems like I’m being unfair, but just give me this last spur-of-the-moment trip, okay? I’ll do better. We’ll start everything fresh beginning the night I graduate.”
“Seeing her is that important?”
“Yeah, we’ll talk about why in a few weeks. It’s sort of prewedding planning stuff.”
“As in our wedding, the one you haven’t said yes to yet?”
“That’d be the one.”
He chuckled. “Suddenly I like this conversation. Try saying the good stuff up-front next time.”
“Sorry, I’m still new to this argue-as-you-go plan.”
“Yeah, we’ve got a few things to work out.”
“But you know we’ll work them out, right?”
“Yeah, I know. Bye, sweetheart.”
“Make sure Lissa and Kevin wear hats so they don’t get an earache, okay?”
“Will do. See you tomorrow night.”
“Yes you will. Bye.”
The night skies threatened snow as Hannah pulled out of Mary’s driveway. Without being asked, Mammi Annie had given them privacy to talk all morning. She had left the Daadi Haus where she, Luke, and Mary resided and had gone to the main house with Mary’s mother.
Mary had listened and understood in ways no one else could. Unfortunately, she didn’t have much in the way of advice—except to keep it honest between Martin and her and to think in terms of what her decisions would mean over the long haul of life.
Mary and Luke didn’t know what they’d do from here on out, but no matter what they decided, it wasn’t going to be easy. If Mary conceived often, she’d end up needing a C-section every year or two, possibly causing other health-related issues over the course of years. If they chose to avoid that, Luke would be unable to share the marriage bed with her. Neither would ever consider using birth control.
The electric lights shone bright from Gram’s kitchen, tempting Hannah to pull into her driveway and visit for a few minutes. She checked the clock. Five thirty. Hannah had plenty of time to visit and still get home before Martin and the children.
She rapped on Gram’s door and waited. The thump of her cane against the floor grew louder. The porch light came on.
With the chain lock in place, Gram opened the door to peer out. “Hannah.” She slammed the door, unhooked the chain, and swung the door open wide, motioning Hannah inside. “Why, I’ve done near wore the phone plain out picking it up to call you. I asked God to give me a sign if I was to tell you, and here you are.”
“Tell me what?”
Gram hesitated, looking like she might cry. “Dorcas has been sick for some time, and maybe because of this extra stress and maybe not, she’s in the hospital, not doing well at all. They can’t get her heartbeat regular, and she’s in and out of consciousness.” Gram clutched her chest.
“Gram, let’s get you to a chair.” Hannah supported Gram by her free arm and helped her to the couch.
After sitting, she shooed Hannah back. “I’m fine. My chest aches when I get all nervous, has since I was a young woman. Don’t worry none about me.”
“Gram.” Hannah sat on the edge of the couch beside her. “What’s wrong with Dorcas?”
“Lyme disease. She had it nearly three years without being diagnosed.”
“Why would you want to call me about Dorcas being sick? I know nothing as a nursing student that could help her.”
Gram placed her knobby hand over Hannah’s and patted it. “I wasn’t going to call about Dorcas.” She sighed. “I thought I was doing the right thing when I stopped letting you and Paul use my mailbox to write each other.”
A little concerned as to why Gram’s conversation was rambling all over the place, Hannah decided she would stay awhile. “It’s okay, Gram. You were doing what you thought was right. I’ll not put blame on anyone for that.”
“But what Dorcas has done to Paul by pretending to be his friend when she didn’t tell him about your calls …”
Hannah’s breath caught. “He knows?”
Gram’s eyes misted. “I can’t stand watching what’s happening with Paul, and I don’t know how much more he can take.”
“Paul’s tough. I see a power and strength in his eyes that can’t be damaged even by what Dorcas has done.”
Gram squeezed the handle of her cane. “Right now that power and strength Paul has is dead set against Dorcas. Go, look him in the eye, and see if Dorcas’s deceit isn’t eating him into bitterness. He doesn’t care if she dies, and she just might.”
“She’s that bad?”
Gram nodded.
“I … I didn’t know Lyme disease could do that, but I’m not sure I can help anybody deal with forgiveness.”
“He’ll listen to you … Please, Hannah.”
She knew so little about forgiveness it scared her. Every time she thought she had it covered, anger seemed to blindside her. She checked her watch. Almost six o’clock. If she went an hour out of the way to see Paul, she might not arrive at the house before Martin and the children. Guilt nibbled at her. Even if she was able to get there before him, she wouldn’t like Martin going to see an old girlfriend like this.
But part of this mess was her fault. She knew the same girl took both messages she left for Paul. She could’ve tried to reach him again or called Gram and left a message with her, but she didn’t. And he needed to know and understand why.
“Do you have his street address?”
Gram wrote the directions to Paul’s place, and Hannah went to her car. Concern for Paul weighed on her as she drove mile after mile. Snow flurries swirled through the dark skies. An hour after leaving Owl’s Perch, she was pulling into the parking lot of his apartment. She stopped at the curb of what she hoped was Paul’s building. Once at the door that matched the info Gram gave her, she heard the muffled voices of several men. She knocked.
“Enter,” a male voice boomed.
She knocked again.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, come in already!”
Whoever said the words, it wasn’t Paul. She eased the door open and stepped inside, seeing no one.
“Just leave the pizza on the counter and take the money.”
In spite of the one voice that was doing all the talking, in the background the voices of several men vibrated the room—Paul’s being one of them. She closed the door and walked in that direction. He was at a table with three other guys, playing cards.
He slapped a card faceup on the table. “If you can’t win …”
“You lose.” Two men repeated the words loudly, making the third guy throw his cards onto the table. A round of laughter pealed from all of them.
Gram was mistaken. Paul was fine, and he looked good too, tilted back on two legs of his chair, smiling.
“Excuse me.”
Paul jolted, losing his balance. He jumped to his feet as the chair fell over backward. The men broke into laughter. “Man, Waddell, with half the decent single women chasing you, one would think you wouldn’t lose it over one saying ‘excuse me.’ ” A man with jet-bl
ack hair and a five o’clock shadow spoke the words and then turned to look at her. “Then again …” He slapped a card onto the table, staring at her.
Paul’s eyes didn’t move from her. The hardwood floor was covered in chunks of mud and debris. Every one of the men still had on the messy boots.
Bachelors all of them. Probably. Hannah suppressed a smile.
The guy with the five o’clock shadow looked from Paul to Hannah, while the other two kept talking. “Whoa, idiots.”
Movement stopped.
The guy moved toward her. “I’m Marcus King.”
She knew his name well. He’d been best friends with Paul since they were kids and one of Paul’s college roommates. She guessed the other two were Ryan and Taylor.
“I’m Hannah.”
He smiled, shaking her hand as if he already knew her and liked her. “It’s good to finally meet you.” He turned back to the table. “Guys, we’re leaving. Now.”
The doorbell rang.
“That’d be the pizza.” Marcus went to the door.
Each of the other two men dipped his head as a silent hello while heading for the door. Shock faded from Paul’s face. He picked up his chair and ran his hands through his disheveled hair.
“Hey, Paul,” Marcus called, stepping back into view. He held up one of three pizza boxes. “I’ll leave this one on the counter.”
Marcus closed the front door behind him, and the only sounds left were the ticking of a clock and the bubbling of water. Hannah looked around, spotting the source of the trickling sound. An aquarium, every bit as large as Martin’s fifty-something-inch, HD, flat-screen TV. Colorful, graceful fish swam about, giving the whole room a peaceful feel. Five feet away, a recliner with a reading lamp behind it faced the tank. Lines of twine ran a foot above her, running from one end of the room to the other, with dozens of Christmas cards straddling the cords.
She closed her eyes, feeling the … quiet of the Plain traditions. No television, gaming stations, or blasting stereos. No Christmas trees or lights or fancy decorations. Opening her eyes, she saw a stack of Christmas presents in the corner, some already wrapped, some not. Christmas celebration was certainly looked forward to, but keeping life simple all year long was the Plain way.
Sisters of the Quilt Trilogy Page 92