by Beth Wiseman
“Nee, Abraham. I’m not trying to break up with you. I am breaking up with you.” She pulled a tissue from the pocket of her white apron and dabbed at her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she repeated.
He touched her arm, and she flinched. “Hannah, I understand that you’re scared about what’s happening between us. I am too. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.”
Hannah closed her eyes for a few moments, drawn in by the tenderness in his voice, and then she met his gaze, his eyes like magnets, pulling her to a place she shouldn’t go. It was early, and the sun had barely begun its descent. Hannah could see her reflection in Abraham’s eyes, but she wasn’t sure she liked what she saw.
“Please don’t cry.” He spoke in a whisper as he gently kissed her on the cheek. “I’m sorry if I get carried away sometimes. It’s just . . .” He lowered his gaze, then looked back at her, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes. “You’re just so beautiful, and I love you so much.”
Hannah took a deep breath. “If you loved me so much, you wouldn’t keep pushing me to do things I’m not comfortable with. Things you shouldn’t be comfortable with either.”
He raised both palms and smiled. His tears vanished as quickly as they’d appeared. “I surrender. I promise. I’ll be good. Let’s don’t break up.”
This was the Abraham she’d fallen for. Confident, charming, and more good-looking than anyone she’d ever seen. But the more she saw what was inside him, the less and less attractive he’d become.
She took another deep breath. “I’m sorry, Abraham, I really am. But I am breaking up with you. I don’t want to date you anymore. And I want to go home.”
Abraham was eerily quiet, his eyes fused with hers, his expression difficult to read, like the calm before a big storm.
Hannah had been really afraid twice in her life. Once when she cut her leg climbing over a barbwire fence. The gash had been deep, and she’d never seen so much blood. The other time was when Rachel was sick and ran such a high fever that she hallucinated and talked to people who weren’t in the room.
Next to those two events, the look on Abraham’s face molded into an expression that now held the number three spot on her list, and she trembled.
Abraham’s nostrils flared as his lips thinned with anger. His brown eyes turned black with fury as he clenched his fists at his sides. “No one has ever broken up with me, Hannah King.”
Now it was Abraham trembling, but Hannah didn’t think it was because he was afraid. She closed her eyes and prayed.
Gideon finished the last of his burger and fries, but Rachel had barely touched any of her food.
“Do you want me to take you home?” Gideon swallowed hard when Rachel looked across the table at him with tears in her eyes. She was upset about Hannah, but he wondered if there was more to her mood. “Maybe this wasn’t a gut idea. I don’t want things to be weird between us, and—”
She shook her head. “It’s not you or the date. It’s . . .” She blinked her eyes a few times. “Do you think it would be okay if we don’t go to a movie?”
Gideon drew in a deep breath and blew it out slowly as he struggled to hide his disappointment. This was going worse than he could have imagined. “Ya, sure, that’s fine. I’ll take you home in the buggy. I can get word to the driver.”
She stared at him for a long while. “Do you think we could go to the beekeeper’s cemetery?”
Gideon’s eyebrows lifted so high in surprise he thought his temples might explode from the pressure. He’d dreamed about kissing Rachel for years, but everyone knew what went on at the beekeeper’s cemetery, and Gideon wasn’t able to hide his shock, even though a tiny part of him wanted to bolt out the door with her right now.
Rachel covered her face with her hands for a couple of seconds, and when she slowly moved them, her face was as red as a freshly painted barn. “Nee, it’s not what you think. I’m worried about Hannah, and I think that might be where she and Abraham are.” She put a hand across her churning stomach. “I can feel it when something is wrong with Hannah. I’m so worried, Gideon. And I’m so sorry. I was looking forward to seeing a movie.”
“Nee, nee. Don’t be sorry.” He reached across the table and found Rachel’s hand and squeezed, something that came as natural as breathing, when he wasn’t analyzing how things should be on a date. He motioned for the waitress. “We’ll leave as soon as I pay the bill.”
Gideon worried all the way to the buggy, hoping he would be able to reach their driver before the guy showed up. He had to leave a message, but a few minutes later, they were on the road in his buggy. He could feel the anxiety radiating from Rachel like steam off a hot bath.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” he said, holding her hand. He was surprised Hannah would go to the beekeeper’s cemetery, since the place had such a bad reputation that seemed to follow anyone who went there, but he knew she was a good girl. As was Rachel.
Gideon let go of Rachel’s hand when she started to cry, and he coaxed the horse into a fast trot, hoping there wouldn’t be much traffic when they neared Lincoln Highway. Sometimes the wait could be awhile, and even worse, impatient Englischers often spooked the horses by honking.
“Don’t worry. I’ll get you there safely and as fast as I can.”
“I haven’t been very nice to Hannah lately.” Rachel found his hand again and held it tightly as Gideon wondered why the sisters had been at odds and if it had anything to do with Abraham. “I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to her.”
“I’m sure she’s fine,” he repeated and squeezed her fingers.
Still, Gideon had seen this play out before. Rachel and Hannah seemed to know when the other was hurt or sick, or if something was wrong. Most recently it happened when Rachel missed a church service a few months ago, which wasn’t like her. Gideon had seen Hannah fidgeting throughout the service. About thirty minutes into the worship service, she’d bolted out the door with no explanation. Gideon later learned that she found Rachel at home hallucinating with a high fever.
He could recall multiple incidents like that one, though not all that severe. Mostly it was Hannah running somewhere out of fear for Rachel. Everyone joked that it was because she was the older sister by eight minutes. But right now there was no mistaking the panic in Rachel’s eyes or the way her lip trembled. She was scared for Hannah.
Gideon wasn’t sure why. Abraham was admired by everyone in the community, even though he’d been here only a month or so. All the girls were smitten with him. But maybe Rachel knew something Gideon didn’t. He picked up speed, and Rachel’s grip on his hand tightened.
CHAPTER 7
Dusk was settling in by the time Gideon turned on the asphalt road that ran south of the cemetery.
“Stop the buggy!” Rachel screamed. Gideon pulled back on the reins, and the horse lifted its two front legs, neighing and kicking as if fending off an intruder. But it was Hannah who appeared before them, limping, her dark-green dress ripped at the seam. She was missing one of her black loafers.
Rachel jumped from her seat in the topless buggy and ran to Hannah with shaky legs and outstretched arms. “Hannah!” Her heart slammed against her chest as she stopped in front of her sister and latched on to Hannah’s forearms. “Are you okay?” She inspected Hannah from head to toe, her eyes homing in on Hannah’s scraped knee and the blood trickling down her leg. Tears streaked her sister’s face, and a force rose inside Rachel that she didn’t know existed. “Who did this to you? Did Abraham hurt you?”
Hannah shook her head. “Nee, nee. I fell down.” She looked at her one bare foot. “And I twisted my ankle.”
“Move.” Gideon slid between them, scooped Hannah into his arms, and started walking toward the buggy so fast that Rachel could barely keep up. He gently eased Hannah into the back seat and told Rachel to get in the front. “The horse is spooked. It’s almost dark. And I can see headlights in the distance. We need to get going.”
After they started down the road, Gideon a
nd Rachel looked over their shoulders at the same time, and both asked Hannah again if she was okay.
Sniffling, she sat up. “I was running from the cemetery, and when I got to the road, I tripped and fell on the asphalt.”
Rachel reached behind her and handed Hannah her handkerchief to put on her knee. “Where is Abraham? What happened?” Rachel brought a hand to her chest, hoping to calm her racing heart. “Why were you running?”
Hannah cried harder. “I broke up with Abraham, and he got really mad. He was shaking and yelling at me, and—and I got scared.” She sucked in a gasp of air. “So I ran away.” She sobbed for a few moments. “He didn’t even come after me or look for me, that I know of. And I’m glad.” She scrunched up her face, wincing as she dabbed at her knee. “I never want to see him again.”
Violence wasn’t their way, but Rachel envisioned a baseball bat in her hand as she took a big swing at Abraham.
After the horse was moving in a steady trot on the main road toward home, Gideon reached his arm into the back seat and touched Hannah’s arm. “Thank goodness Rachel got that feeling she gets and insisted we head this way. Do you want to stop for a few minutes to gather yourself before we get to your house?”
Hannah shook her head. “Nee, I just want to get home.”
Rachel took a deep breath, faced forward, and tried to lose the image of herself with the baseball bat. Hannah was okay, and that was all that mattered.
She closed her eyes and slid her hand across the seat in search of Gideon’s. When she touched his leg instead, she pulled back and glanced over her shoulder. Gideon’s hand had found its way into Hannah’s grasp.
Rachel fought the familiar jealousy bubbling to the surface, fearing she was going straight to hell if she couldn’t corral her emotions when it came to Hannah and guys. But even though she knew it was probably only Gideon’s way of comforting his friend, she couldn’t help but wonder, was it more?
Then again, why shouldn’t Gideon go after Hannah now that Abraham wasn’t in the picture? Hannah was a catch. And Rachel remembered the crush Hannah had on Gideon in the eighth grade. Both sets of parents would be thrilled if Gideon dated Rachel or Hannah. Either sister would surely do. Gideon and Rachel were only friends anyway.
They were quiet as Gideon turned on the road to Rachel and Hannah’s house. As discreetly as she could, barely moving her head, Rachel cut her eyes to Gideon’s arm, trailing it all the way to his hand, which was still holding on to Hannah’s. She took a deep breath, faced forward, and thanked God again that Hannah was okay.
In the yard, Gideon was quick to get out of the buggy. He helped Hannah to her feet, keeping an arm around her shoulder. Rachel walked behind them as Hannah’s arm circled Gideon’s waist, her head resting on his chest.
“What should we tell Mamm and Daed?” Rachel was still struggling to control her pulse as she trailed behind them.
Hannah pointed to the living room, then the downstairs bedroom. “The lights are all off. They’re already in bed.”
Rachel doubted they were asleep, knowing her mother wouldn’t close her eyes until she knew both of her daughters were home safely.
“We’ll be really quiet and hurry up the stairs,” Hannah said. “We can figure out what to tell them later.”
“The truth sounds gut,” Rachel said, probably much too sarcastically.
Gideon helped Hannah up the porch steps and eased open the screen door, then the wooden door. He waited until Hannah lit a lantern and headed upstairs before he turned and headed back outside.
Rachel followed him. A faint light from the solar lantern in the yard provided enough light for her to see his eyes changing from amber to green. And now that she knew Hannah was okay, once again she couldn’t stop looking at Gideon’s lips. “That was some kind of first date, ya?”
A muscle in Gideon’s jaw flicked. “I can’t believe Abraham treated Hannah this way.”
Rachel shifted her weight, putting herself an inch or two closer to Gideon. She twirled the string from her kapp around her finger. “Well, you know Hannah. She’ll soon be on to the next fellow in line.” She cringed at her own words. Hannah was probably upstairs bawling her eyes out. “I’m sure she’ll be okay.”
It was surprising how quickly she’d gone from a doting and terrified sister to a jealous shrew. She had proclaimed for a year how she wasn’t interested in Gideon, but she couldn’t stand the thought of Hannah trying to snatch him away too. Maybe she could salvage the night. She inched closer to Gideon, but he seemed to be looking somewhere over Rachel’s shoulder, his wandering gaze traveling up. To the light of the lantern in the girls’ room.
Rachel recalled how she had sat in that same spot watching Hannah kissing Abraham. Now the situation had reversed, and she hoped Gideon would kiss her good night.
“I guess I’d better go,” he finally said, snapping his attention back to Rachel. “I’m sorry this happened to Hannah. You better go on in and tend to her.” He glanced up again at the lit window. “I hope Abraham feels bad for the way he acted.”
Then he turned and walked toward his buggy.
Strangely disappointed, Rachel went back to the porch. She was almost up the stairs when Gideon called her name.
“Do you want to try this again next Saturday?” he asked in a loud whisper.
Rachel glanced up at Hannah, who was staring out the window, then back at Gideon. “Sure.”
He tipped his straw hat and waved.
Easing open the screen door, Rachel trudged inside, the weight of her guilt pushing her lower and lower. Hannah had endured a horrible night. She might be pregnant. And all Rachel could think about was how she’d feel if Hannah and Gideon got together.
It wasn’t even a real date.
Her thoughts tumbled as she recalled how jealous she’d been of Hannah and Abraham. And now, it didn’t sound like Abraham was the gut person she’d thought him to be. Had his looks overshadowed his personality, tricking them both?
And what about Hannah? If she was finished with Abraham, was she making a move on Gideon?
But Gideon had asked Rachel out again, so maybe she’d been wrong to think there was anything more to his actions with her sister than being a nice guy.
Unsure of her reasoning, Rachel made a decision. She wasn’t going to tell Hannah about her and Gideon’s arrangement.
Hannah gazed out the window and smiled. Gideon was a good guy, and she hoped it would work out for him and Rachel.
Sniffling, she sat down on her bed and waited for Rachel to get upstairs. Her sister was going to have a lot of questions. She bit her bottom lip and stifled the tears threatening to spill again. She wasn’t sure she ever wanted to get involved with another guy. Could any of them really be trusted? And can I trust myself to choose without losing my head over a man’s looks?
Abraham had seemed so nice in the beginning, so charming, so giving. But as she recalled the warning signs, which were clearer now, she admitted to herself that she’d overlooked some of his less attractive qualities. For example, Abraham had commented that Hannah was prettier than Rachel. It was one thing to say Hannah was pretty, but to compare the sisters was horrible. She’d thought so at the time, but she’d let it go. What did that say about her?
“Wie bischt.” Rachel walked in carrying a lantern and closed the door behind her. “Is your knee all right?” She sat on her bed and placed the light on the bedside table between their beds, next to Hannah’s lantern.
“Ya, it’s okay. I just scraped it pretty bad. I put some of Mamm’s salve on it.” Hannah tried to smile. “I’m sorry I messed up your date with Gideon, but I’m so grateful you showed up. I was mostly just upset, and I would have found a way home. But . . . I’m glad it was you and Gideon who found me since I was in such a bad way.”
“I just had that feeling.” Rachel sighed, and Hannah knew what she meant.
Hannah took off her prayer covering and removed her hairpins, then set the items on the bed, letting her blond hair fall
well below her shoulders. Running her fingers through it, she tried to block out the events of the evening, but Rachel’s questions would be forthcoming any minute, so she braced herself.
“I can’t believe Abraham got so mad about you breaking up with him, mad enough that he scared you.” Rachel shook her head. “I never would have thought he would be like that.” She raised her eyes to Hannah’s and squinted. “Why did you break up with him? Had he gotten angry with you like that before?”
Hannah couldn’t tell Rachel how ungentlemanly he’d acted last week. Or that she’d decided to continue dating him to protect Rachel. “He just wasn’t the right person for me.”
Hannah had fallen asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, but Rachel was wide awake. If Hannah was pregnant, she might not have broken up with the baby’s father, even though he was a jerk. So maybe she wasn’t pregnant after all.
Or maybe she was. Maybe she didn’t realize she’d missed her monthly and didn’t know she was with child.
It was all too much to dive into tonight after what Hannah had been through.
Rachel snuffed out Hannah’s lantern but kept hers lit on the table. Reading made her tired, so she opened a magazine to an article about summer gardening tips. After ten or fifteen minutes, she was dozing off sitting up. But she jumped when something hit the window. Straightening, she closed the magazine and sat perfectly still. It happened again—a pebble hitting the glass. The battery was dead on the clock they kept on the nightstand, but Rachel figured it to be around ten.
Hannah snored lightly as Rachel tiptoed to the window and peered into the darkness. She didn’t see anyone at first, but then someone shined a flashlight at her, blinding her for a moment. Once the light was out of her face, she saw someone standing in the yard, near enough to the propane lamp that she was finally able to make out who it was.
She looked over her shoulder at Hannah, still sleeping soundly, then, quiet as a church mouse, she slid her dress over her nightgown, grabbed the lantern, and left the room to go outside.