Sisters of the Quilt Trilogy

by Cindy Woodsmall

  “You’re at the clinic then, and someone is in labor? I thought you were off tonight.”

  “I am. I … I’m at the cabin.”

  Silence.

  It seemed to define their relationship more than anything else of late.

  “I’m leaving right now.”

  “It’s ten thirty, and you’re there while I’m here waiting. Didn’t you hear your phone ring half a dozen times tonight?”

  “This is the first time it’s rung.”

  “It is so time for you to get a new phone.”

  “I just wanted to see the place, Martin. You used to like it, remember?”

  “You used to live there, and what I liked about it was you.”

  He’d never understand why she didn’t fully appreciate his guiding her toward change for the better. And she’d never understand why he couldn’t enjoy and appreciate the simplicity of a single light bulb hanging from a ceiling or the pleasure of warm soil under her bare feet as she tended her garden.

  But he’d taught her how to navigate the Englischer world. They’d laughed and bonded and fallen in love. He’d healed her broken heart and made it possible for her to slip into a new life. And she loved him. They’d get through this transition. He was right; the cabin needed to be sold, and she needed to move on.

  “I’m leaving right now.”

  She went to her car, barely paying attention to the roads as she drove to Martin’s. It was after eleven when she pulled into his driveway. Carrying an armload of books and dry cleaning, Hannah pushed her hip against the car door, closing it. Streams of yellow gold light shone through the huge arched window of the main house onto the sparse layer of snow across the backyard. Martin stood at the second-story window, looking down.

  The constant ache that’d taken up residence inside her increased. If they could just talk about what was happening to them, maybe they’d find their way back to each other again.

  They’d tried. Both of them.

  He’d told her that she needed to finish letting go of the Plain life. They’d sell the cabin, but she could take the on-call hours Dr. Lehman offered. Martin would have a vasectomy, but she could continue with her nursing school.

  The concessions he wanted were great.

  With the eyes of two young children staring at her even in her sleep, she would become whatever he needed her to be. If she thought about it the right way, the compromises were rational. He was asking her to adjust better to the Englischer life. He wasn’t wrong in wanting that.

  In spite of her full arms, she managed a wave. Martin raised his hand slowly, returning the gesture. Hoping desperately that the trip to Hawaii would be all they needed it to be, she went to the cottage.

  If she could just get Paul out of her mind, many of their other issues would fall to the wayside. Wouldn’t they? Balancing all the stuff in her arms, she struggled to open the unlocked door to her cottage. Without flipping on a light, she walked through the dark room and plunked everything onto the small, round kitchen table.

  Her cell phone rang, and she dug through her coat pocket to locate it. “Hi.”

  “Hey, phone girl.” Martin sounded sleepy or maybe just tired.

  “Hey, yourself.” She wrestled to find words and not to sound as empty as she felt. “How was your day?”

  “Usual. Yours?”

  “Normal stuff, except we delivered a set of twins. The Fishers now have two sets of twins in their brood of nine children.”

  “Fascinating I’m sure. Can you imagine what the day is like for those parents?”

  She flicked on a light. “How one feels about that depends on what their goals in life are.” Taking her dry-cleaned uniform with her, she walked into the bedroom and hung it in the closet before returning to the kitchen.

  “Yeah, I guess so. I’ve been meaning to ask about Friday night’s graduation. Did you need to do something about a cap and gown?”

  Spotting a large envelope on the table under the books she’d piled there, she slid it free. “No, all I need is my nurse’s uniform. I actually sent it to the dry cleaner so it’d look its best. I picked it up earlier today.”

  It was addressed to Hannah Lapp Lawson, but it had no return address. It must have come in the mail today and Laura brought it to the cottage and left it on the table. Maybe her Daed had responded to the letter she sent him. It’d been a very short note—Dear Daed, all is forgiven. I love you, Hannah.

  It’d taken her hours to write those simple words, but by the time she wrote them, she meant every one. She opened the envelope and shook the contents onto the table. A letter on green stationery and one very thick white envelope slid onto the table. She flipped the white envelope over and stopped cold.

  Her first name was written across it in Paul’s handwriting.

  “Helloooooo?” Martin called.

  “I … I need to tend to some things. How about if we talk tomorrow?”

  Martin said something she didn’t really hear before she said goodbye and disconnected the call.

  She unfolded the green stationery first and glanced to the end.

  From Dorcas?

  She returned to the top of the page and began reading.

  Hannah,

  You cannot imagine how much I do not want to write this letter. I’ve wished you weren’t in Paul’s life since the day I learned of you. I wanted Paul to feel toward me the things he wrote in this letter to you. But if love never fails, it seems self-interest is doomed to fail—and now I hold less of his heart than I thought possible.

  When you left, he debated over what to do and decided to give you time to return on your own. Whenever he wavered in that decision, I encouraged him to stay the course. He waited for you. And I never told him you called. He waited until he saw you in Ohio with a man he thought to be your husband. And a week later you returned, and he began falling for you again. Perhaps you’ve truly moved on and I’m only making things worse, but I felt I had to make sure you knew everything, which is what I should have done for both of you to begin with.

  Please forgive me,

  Dorcas

  With temptation to read his letter pounding, she felt guilt close in around her. Reading Paul’s letter would do nothing but cause her mayhem. In the tumultuous quiet, an image of Kevin and Lissa filled her, and she was absolutely confident what had to be done. She put Dorcas’s letter with Paul’s and slid them back into the larger envelope. With her voice screaming inside her, she ignored the desire to read his letter and walked to the trash can. But her fingers wouldn’t let it go.

  He’d written to her in love and waited more than two years for her to return. Was she really going to throw all the sincerity he’d poured onto paper into the garbage?

  “God, help me.”

  But He didn’t. She felt no added strength to release the letter and no freedom to read it. Paul’s words from two weeks ago rang inside her head: Come on, Hannah. How great can your relationship with Martin be if …

  Her need to protect herself from Paul wasn’t just about Martin and her. It was about Kevin and Lissa. She wouldn’t abandon them. Couldn’t. Their dad had, and a few months later their mother had too. Hannah wouldn’t add to that rejection. Besides, Martin wasn’t likely even to have Kevin and Lissa if she hadn’t pushed and prodded him. She couldn’t ever turn her back on any of them and still be able to find any part of herself. Dropping the letter into the trash can, she felt her chest constrict. Ignoring the feeling, she went into the bedroom. The mirror that hung on the back of the door caught her eye, and she gazed at herself. The only thing she’d ever wanted was a life with Paul Waddell. That’s all. Tears stung her eyes, and without changing clothes, she flicked off the light and crawled into bed.

  All Dorcas had managed to do was make the hurt worse. Willing herself to sleep, Hannah closed her eyes. Hours passed, and her desire to read the letter only grew. The temptation to feel some part of what she would have felt then embarrassed her. Disgusted with herself, she eased her legs over the s
ide of the bed and sat up.

  She could tear it up or burn it, but she figured that would only cause the longing to mutate into a regret she could never undo. She swallowed hard. This was ridiculous. There was no way she could ignore the letter. If it lay in the trash for a thousand years, she’d still know he’d written it and waited for her.

  Wasn’t her fear of facing the truth most of what had destroyed them to begin with?

  She’d feared what he’d think of her if he learned she’d been raped and later was pregnant, so she tried to hide both. She’d feared watching him fall in love with someone else and have children with her, so she ran. She’d feared if she stood before him vulnerable, he’d reach out to her in pity, so she didn’t give him the chance. She’d feared if they worked through everything else, she’d tear him from his family, and his life would never be healed again.

  Darkness cloaked the room, and she longed for rays of the new day to come, but there were still two hours of nighttime ahead. Sick of how she’d let fear rule her, she went to the kitchen, flicked on the light, and moved to the trash can. She lifted the envelope from the trash bag, noticing it was wet from sharing space with a used coffee filter. She pulled the white envelope from the manila one. It was slightly damp, and the color of the wet coffee grounds had seeped through. Dorcas had kept it pristine for more than three years, but Hannah had already managed to stain it.

  Feeling as if she messed up everything she touched, she sat down, slid the letter out, and opened it.

  Dear Hannah,

  I’ve waited so long to get to share how I really feel. My heart is so full now that you’ve agreed to be my wife. Tonight my family had a party, and I could only dream of having you by my side. Sharing your love and laughter is my deepest desire, and I can’t wait for the many gatherings of friends and family in the future when we can be together as man and wife.

  I know you are worried about your family and what will happen, but I’m convinced we can work through any struggle and overcome anything or anyone that would separate us. I will do everything I can to win them over.

  There are so many unique parts to you, my Lion-heart. I know you can’t see it and don’t even want me saying it, but I realized it the first day I saw you at Gram’s, tending to all the meals for the workers. Just a thought of you brings back a dozen memories of who you are and who we are together. And I don’t want you to bury your gifts and talents to be only a helpmate to me. My dream is that we both aim to be exactly who God called us to be. I don’t think He stocked you with talents so they would rust or get buried while you play a dutiful wife.

  We can’t know what life will hold, but I have no preset desires of who I want us to be or what I want, except I want you, Lion-heart, just you, wherever that may lead us.

  Unable to read any further through her tears, she lowered the letter and folded it.

  Reading it was a mistake. Knowing he’d waited for her and was still in love with her was too much. Now she’d hear his voice inside her all the rest of her days.

  She’d fought so hard to let him go because of reasons that now were as lifeless as last year’s garden. Nauseous and tired, she went to take a shower.

  It was just as over today as it was six months or two years ago, only now her heart was too vested in Paul to be fair to Martin, and she had no idea how to untie her heart from Paul’s. She soaked under a hot shower until it started running cool. Longing pulled at her, and there was no ignoring it.

  She dried off and slid into her thick cotton bathrobe.

  The feelings tore at her. How had Paul handled waiting for her all that time?

  The sun was rising, dispelling the darkness. Funny how the smallest light could dispel darkness, but light was never dismissed that easily.

  She went into the kitchen and fixed a pot of coffee.

  There was a tap at her front door. Closing her eyes for a moment, she drew a deep breath and hoped Martin didn’t notice how stressed she was. It wasn’t like him to stop in before work.

  She opened the door and stepped back. “Hi.”

  He came inside and closed the door. “I saw the light on.”

  “Care for some coffee?” She lifted the decanter.

  “No thanks.”

  He sounded different, milder and not agitated at all.

  Pouring herself another cup, she tried not to respond to the stare she could feel coming from him. “What’s on your agenda for today?”

  “The usual. Yours?”

  Feeling tears sting, she took a seat, staying focused on the counter, the mug, anything but looking at him. “Not as much to do with school over. I thought about going shopping for clothes for the trip. Maybe begin packing for Lissa and Kevin.”

  He pulled out a chair and sat. “Before I met your Daed and heard what he had to say, I would have told you to wash your hands of them and never look back.”

  She plunked sugar into her cup and watched the black liquid swirl as she stirred it. “But we both know that somewhere between being done wrong and never, people change.”

  The hum of the furnace and the various soft noises of the electric coffeepot hung in the air, but neither Martin nor she spoke for more than five minutes.

  He finally reached across the table and took her hand in his. “Hannah, sweetheart, could you look at me, please?”

  She slowly looked up, surprised not to see anger in his eyes.

  Martin let out a long, slow breath. “There she is. That’s the girl I used to see when we first met, only then she was in love with what’s his name.” Martin kissed the back of her hand. “He didn’t turn his back on you like you thought, did he?”

  Hannah swallowed and shook her head. “How …” She choked back a sob and couldn’t finish her sentence.

  “When Mary was in labor and you were trying to find Paul, you said something to Dorcas about the times you’d called and she hadn’t told him.” Martin rubbed her hand gently. “When did you find out?”

  “The second time I went back.” Tears worked their way free. “I’ve not handled this with Paul right. I’m so sorry.”

  “I promised Zabeth I’d let you go, help you go, if you ever seemed interested in returning to your community—unless we were married by then.” Martin shook his head. “I know you love me, and I know you don’t want to leave Kevin and Lissa, but the problems go deep into who we are. We want to be right for each other.” He cursed softly. “We tried to be and almost convinced ourselves we could do it, but I don’t think we can. Not in all the ways that make a marriage good most of the time.”

  Through blurry vision she watched him.

  “I want someone who wants me, phone girl. I deserve that, and Zabeth would want—no, she’d demand that for me too, just as she’d demand it for you. I haven’t waited this long to settle for someone who is in love with me and someone else at the same time. You don’t even love anything about my lifestyle—not my house, my hobbies, or my dreams for the future.”

  “But Kevin and Lissa—they are our dreams and future too. They need us. Please, Martin.”

  He held up his hand, trying to make her hush.

  Hannah searched his face. “They need both of us. I’ll try hard—”

  He smacked the tabletop, stopping her midsentence. “No more, Hannah. The decision is made.” His booming voice made the room vibrate. He closed his eyes and sucked in a ragged breath. “Do you hear yourself? Everything about staying with me is based on Kevin and Lissa!”

  Her hands were shaking as he spoke a truth she didn’t want him to know.

  “You’re twenty years old, and they aren’t yours. You do know Faye could return, right? I won’t give them to her unless she spends time here and goes through drug testing to prove herself, but I will make room for her in their lives and on my property.”

  Hannah withdrew her hands, placing her palms over her moist eyes.

  Martin tugged at her wrist, waiting on her to look at him again. “Could you just think about something for a minute? If you sta
yed because of Kevin and Lissa, you’d be saying you don’t believe God can provide anyone else for them. Or for me.” Martin gave a confident smile. “Trust me, there are other women out there who would love to step into your shoes. Some of them are even worth having.”

  “This can’t be happening.”

  “I always knew there was a chance I’d lose you to the Plain ways and maybe even to what’s his name. The moment you got that call from Sarah … from home, I think I knew I had begun to lose you. I just didn’t want to admit it.”

  A sob broke from her, and she covered her face.

  “Look, we’ll do graduation with Kevin and Lissa, and afterward we’ll do a going-away party with the band so the kids get closure. You can invite …”

  He let the sentence trail. She didn’t have any friends, not in Ohio. She had Dr. Lehman, maybe the Plain women from the Tuesday quiltings, but they’d never come here for a party. She only had Martin, Kevin, and Lissa. All the people who kept Martin’s home a buzz of activity were his friends, ones she never managed to truly connect to. Maybe if she’d tried harder …

  “I’ll transfer your ticket to Hawaii into Laura’s name, and we’ll explain to the kids that you’ve decided to move home. I don’t want to wait until after Christmas. Between school, work, and returning to Owl’s Perch, they’ve adjusted to you being gone a lot already. The trip to Hawaii will be a good transition time for them.” His speech was slow and methodical, as if he’d memorized what he’d say and the tone he’d keep while saying it, but the hurt and anger behind his well-behaved exterior was deep.

  Breathing seemed almost impossible as she fought against the tears. In spite of crying, she lowered her hands and looked him in the face. “I’m so, so sorry. This is all my fault.”

  “Your fault?”

  “I pushed you to stop dating others and date me.”

  “Get real, Hannah. I’ve never been pushed by any girl into anything I didn’t want to begin with. And that includes you.”

  His words came out as arrogant and condescending as the first time they’d met, and he must have realized it, because he sighed, and then his countenance became more gentle.