Shaking from apprehension as well as the cold rain, Hannah yanked open the shanty door. She dialed 411 and asked for the phone number of Edgar Waddell, Gram’s late husband. Using the paper and pen that lay beside the phone, Hannah soon had the number in hand. There was no way to deny that there were things about the modern world she liked. Feeling triumphant for the first time in forever, she dialed Gram’s number.
When the phone was picked up quickly, she was sure it would be Paul.
“Hello,” Gram said.
It was good to hear the woman’s voice. “Hi, Gram. This is Hannah. The Yoders got a phone shanty, and … is … is Paul there?”
“No, dear. I guess Becky told you we came by her place, but he left as soon as he dropped me off. How are you feeling these days?”
Groping to find her voice, Hannah murmured a few niceties in order to answer her and hung up the phone.
She leaned her head against a wall of the tiny booth, aching to hear Paul’s voice.
Between her miserable sorrow and the wet clothes that clung to her, Hannah shivered hard. She closed the shanty door behind her and headed around the back side of the house. The downpour had ceased, leaving only a light mist.
Her body ached from the day’s events, and the hopelessness in her heart only added to her discomforts. As the wet clothes clung to her physical body, the aches and pains of the past few months clung to her soul, dragging her into ever-deeper waters.
She heard an automobile rumble on the paved road some twenty feet away. Hannah scurried into the shadows. A horn gave a short toot, and lights flashed. She turned. Through the misting night, she saw an old, midnight blue truck. The door opened, and Paul jumped out. He hustled toward her as if he’d caught a glimpse of her before she had retreated to the shadows. The sight of him in blue jeans and a button-down shirt running toward her was almost more than her knees could take. She ran down the hill and threw her arms around his neck. His strong grip lifted her off the ground and held her.
He nuzzled against her neck, even planting a kiss on her cold, damp skin. Her arms tightened. Oh, please, tell me I’m not dreaming.
He set her feet on the ground. His hands moved to her face, cradling it. She gazed at him intently, expecting him to speak. Slowly a smile eased his tense features, and she heard him draw a heavy breath. He lowered his face until his lips touched hers. Warmth and power swept through her. She had no idea a kiss felt like this. Desperate to bury all the pain her family had heaped on her, she reveled in the magnitude of Paul’s touch. She kissed him, not wanting to ever stop.
Astonishment jolted her, and she pulled him closer, running her hand over the back of his head. His soft, warm, gentle lips moved over hers, and she returned the favor, until Hannah thought they might both take flight right then and there. Finally desperate for air, they parted.
Paul rested his hand on his chest. “Wow.” He gulped in air. “I needed that so badly.” His eyes bored into her. He smiled. “Hi.”
Hannah bit her bottom lip, too thrilled and embarrassed to maintain eye contact. “I called Gram’s. She said you were gone.”
He reached into his back pocket. “I couldn’t leave without trying one last time to get this to you.” He passed her a letter. “It explains all sorts of things. I … I’m sorry, but I can’t be here for Christmas. But I’ll be at Gram’s the day before Thanksgiving. It’d be our only time until this spring. Please tell me you can get away.”
She took the letter from his hand, then tucked it inside the bib of her apron. She reached for Paul’s hand. “I’ll find a way.”
His lips met hers again and again, and she finally understood the desire of a woman to yield herself to the marriage bed.
“I miss you so badly, Hannah. You can’t imagine.” He whispered the words as he kissed down her neck.
“Hannah?” a deep voice called through the low rumble of thunder.
Hannah jumped, turning her head toward the sound of Matthew’s voice. She didn’t see him, which probably meant he hadn’t seen her. She cuddled against Paul’s chest for a moment, then took a step back. “That’s Matthew,” she whispered. “Mary must be asking for me. I have to go.”
Frustration seemed to pass through Paul’s eyes.
“Hannah!” Matthew called again.
“Go,” Paul whispered, nudging his head toward the Daadi Haus. “I love you.”
“Always and forever, Paul,” Hannah whispered. “Always and forever.” She tilted her chin slightly as strength returned to her. Biting her bottom lip, she winked before trudging up the soggy hill.
Paul climbed into the truck, damp but ecstatic. His heart thumped against his chest. All he wanted to do was close his eyes and enjoy the exhilaration of what had just taken place. He ran his thumb over his lips.
Wow.
That encounter was not something he would have ever dreamed possible, unless he was dreaming of their wedding night. But even then, he hadn’t considered that kind of uninhibited passion from Hannah.
Refusing to pass in front of the Yoder house, he cranked the truck and put it in reverse. Finally all his weeks of planning had meant something. Just about the time he was ready to explode in frustration, the most amazing encounter of his life occurred. Paul drew in a deep breath, determined to remember those few moments anytime discouragement tried to eat away at his confidence in their future. Reveling in the incident, he backed the truck onto a road to his left, then pulled forward.
Whenever he’d thought about seeing Hannah over the Thanksgiving weekend, he’d hoped to at least get a kiss on the cheek, maybe even a brush of their lips. But what had just taken place—That reunion was a million times better than the teary discombobulating scene at the hospital. Funny, he’d gone to the hospital expecting a warm welcome only to find her an overstressed, teary-eyed mess. Earlier today he’d looked forward to slipping her the letter and gazing into her eyes from across the room. He’d been bitterly disappointed then too. But tonight he’d come by simply hoping to find a way to pass her his note or get a glimpse of her through a window. What he got was far, far more than he’d known to hope for.
Life—it’s strange.
Now, if Hannah could manage to come to Gram’s next week, they could have all day together before they were separated until his spring break or maybe until he graduated.
Paul mulled over the situation with Hannah’s father. No parent liked the idea of his child, especially his daughter, choosing something aside from what the father had in mind. But surely Mr. Lapp could adjust.
Hannah stuck her sewing needle in the small tomato cushion and shook her hands, trying to get the blood flowing again. Laying Samuel’s shirt on the finished pile, she mused over all the work she’d gotten done for her family while living at Mary’s grandmother’s place. She had worked extra hard since Paul had made his brief appearance. She’d baked goods and sent them home with Luke. He in turn had brought her mounds of mending, and she’d worked on it every spare moment. Getting up well before dawn, she’d done everything the Yoders needed before they needed it, determined to earn the right to go to Mrs. Waddell’s for the eve of Thanksgiving.
Today was the day to ask permission to go. Her parents, with all the children in tow, were coming here to Mary’s house after church.
With only the aid of a quad cane, Mary trekked into the room. Her gait was slow and a bit unsteady. Her eyes narrowed as she pointed to the sewing basket and stack of clothes. “On a Sunday?”
Hannah felt little remorse. “With everyone at church but us, it was a good time to get this done. My feet were propped up, and I was stress free.”
Mary chuckled. “You, relaxed? Are you capable of taking things easy?”
The sounds of buggies and voices signaled that the families had arrived home from church. Hannah grabbed her scissors and pincushion and stuffed them into the sewing basket. She stacked the mended clothes on top and dashed for the bedroom, where she hid the evidence in a corner.
When her parents entered A
nnie Yoder’s home, they told her that Sarah had ridden home from church with Edna. She was the only Lapp who hadn’t come to Mary’s today. At least the girl was showing some good sense. Unless she intended to apologize and take back the gossip she was spreading, Hannah knew Mary did not want anything to do with her.
After lunch had been eaten and the table cleared, Hannah found herself alone in the kitchen with her parents. This rare moment of solitude was the opportunity she’d been hoping for. Daed was lingering over a cup of coffee, Mamm watching him. The rest of the clan were playing board games in the living room. Hannah slid the last of the dishes into the warm, sudsy water, knowing her father wouldn’t want her washing them until after sundown.
When she turned around, her parents had their heads together whispering back and forth. She wondered if they were discussing Aunt Zabeth. Maybe they thought Hannah was old enough to hear about the aunt she’d discovered months ago.
Their conversation stopped when they saw she was looking at them. They each gave a slight shake of the head, assuring her she was to ask no questions. Just as well. She had her own things she needed to talk about.
She dried her hands on a towel and drew a deep breath. “Mamm, Daed, I was wondering … See, I always help Mrs. Waddell cook before Thanksgiving. She packs everything in coolers and goes to her son’s house in Maryland early Thanksgiving Day.” She held her breath, waiting for their reaction. Hannah’s explanation of Mrs. Waddell’s Thanksgiving tradition wasn’t the complete truth, but it was close enough. If they knew that for the past two Thanksgivings, Paul had worked beside her and then had driven his grandmother to his home in Maryland for the rest of the Thanksgiving weekend, they wouldn’t consider this request.
A look of triumph and surprise crossed their eyes, giving Hannah the uneasy feeling that she’d just walked into a trap. Her mother gave a slight nod to her father. He turned the coffee cup in his hand, squeezing it firmly. “If … if you’ll do something for your mother first, we’ll allow it.”
She moved to a chair. “Was iss es?”
Daed pushed the cup away from him. “We want you to come by the house on your way to Mrs. Waddell’s.” His eyes moved to his wife’s. Uneasy looks in her parents’ eyes replaced the victorious expressions of moments earlier.
“Okay.” The word came out long and slow. “But why?”
Her father shrugged, his eyes focused on the table. “Could you do as we’ve asked without pestering us with questions?”
Hannah looked to her mother, who was staring a hole in the center of the table. What did they want? Whatever it was, they didn’t desire to discuss it here with family and friends in the other room. By their responses, it was something they knew she would be against. Most likely they had heard about the rift between her and Sarah and intended to force her to put an end to it.
But it didn’t really matter what their plan was. They were her parents, and she’d end up complying no matter what they wanted; otherwise, she wouldn’t get a day at Gram’s with Paul.
Samuel ran into the room with Mary’s seven-year-old brother, Robert, hot on his trail. Nine-year-old Jesse followed, teasing them both by dangling a spit-up towel from their oldest brother’s infant. The volume in the room grew by the moment.
Hannah rose from her chair, her parents watching her every move. The uneasiness of their request sat hard on her lungs. But no matter what they had in mind for her, no price was too high to pay to see Paul again.
Hannah’s eyes bolted open. She tossed the covers back and jumped out of bed. Today she’d see Paul. Scurrying through the dark, cold room, she got ready for the day as quietly as possible. Leaving Mary asleep, Hannah slipped out the front door and headed for the barn.
The day before Thanksgiving dawned cold and cloudy. By the time the skies gave way to dreary light, Hannah had hitched John Yoder’s horse to a buggy. After a quick stop at home, she would finally be on her way to Mrs. Waddell’s. With her treasured anatomy book beside her so she could show it to Paul, she gave a light slap of the reins against the horse.
Before she’d even left the Yoders’ barn, she spotted Matthew Esh rounding up stray cows. When she hollered, asking him what was going on, he said one of his brothers had left the gate open. Loose cows were a hazard for motorists. Hannah unhitched the buggy. She put the horse in its stall and then helped chase the roaming cows back toward Esh land.
Soon Mary’s father, four of her brothers, and Matthew’s two brothers joined them, and they managed to get the daft cows back where they belonged. After she and Matthew rounded up the last two cows, they stopped by his house for a drink. Matthew apologized for interrupting her morning, then he heated bricks for her feet while he hitched his warmest buggy to a horse for her. When she said she needed her book from the other buggy, he sent Peter to get it.
By the time Peter returned, Hannah was flustered at how much time had passed. But neither the late start nor the overcast sky could cool Hannah’s spirits. She slapped the reins against the horse’s back, spurring it to go faster. Though still unaware of what her parents wanted, Hannah was determined to do their bidding quickly—even if she had to apologize to Sarah for things that weren’t her fault.
The horse’s pace was entirely too slow for Hannah. She laid her hand on the cover of the anatomy book on the seat beside her, looking forward to studying it with Paul throughout the day as time allowed. She understood so much more now than last summer, when he had taught her a few things through his textbooks.
As Hannah neared her house, she was surprised to see her mother standing by the side of the road. She pulled the buggy to a stop and opened the carriage door. “A bit cold to be out here, no?”
Mamm patted something inside the bib of her apron and walked around to the passenger’s side of the buggy without saying a word. Choosing not to give her mother any cause to begin a debate, Hannah slid the book under the seat of the carriage.
Mamm climbed in and wrapped her shawl more tightly around herself. “I need to ask you a question.”
Hannah clicked her tongue, and the horse trudged forward. “Was?”
“Something’s been weighing on my mind. I dreamed about it last week, and, well, Hannah, have you had a woman’s time since the incident?”
Hannah’s throat constricted. She didn’t want to think about this, not ever, but especially not today. She shook her head. “But Mary hasn’t had one since her accident. Dr. Greenfield said trauma can do that to a female.”
Reaching into her bib, Mamm pulled out a small, rectangular-shaped box. “Follow the instructions on the back of the box.”
“What is that?”
She drew a deep breath. “It’s a pregnancy test.”
Hannah’s eyes blurred with tears as she pulled into the driveway. “Mamm, no. I’m not … I’m not.”
“It’s been three months, child. It’s time to find out.”
Feeling alarm at the very idea, Hannah said nothing.
Daed stepped out of the house, looking troubled. He walked to the buggy and opened Hannah’s door. They had her cornered. She had to comply in order to see Paul today, but if the test was positive, she couldn’t face him. No wonder their eyes had lit up at her request to go to Gram’s. It meant she wouldn’t argue about taking the test.
Powerlessness churned in her. Even if the test came back positive, she couldn’t break her word to Gram and not show up for the workday. Her parents had to be banking on that.
Hannah folded her arms over her waist, rebellion rearing its ugly head. She wanted to rail against them, make them admit how calculating they were being.
“This is ridiculous,” Hannah spat, not caring that she was talking back. But the frightening thing was, their request wasn’t ridiculous at all. As much as she wanted to deny that she might be expecting, her body was changing in ways she’d never experienced. Her chin tilted upward, and her shoulders stiffened.
Mamm held the box toward her. “Take it.”
Hannah obeyed. “I’m not pregna
nt.”
Her father held the door open and motioned for Hannah to exit the carriage. “Come on. Let’s go for a walk.” His voice was the gentle, loving one she remembered from childhood.
Holding the rectangular box in her hand, Hannah followed him up the hill to the same bench they’d gone to after her attack. The same angry and confused feelings washed over her. Daed sat on the bench and patted the spot beside him. She sat. He took her hand. “Hannah, you’re my daughter. No matter what comes, I’ll take care of you.”
Oh, God, I don’t want to be pregnant. Please.
She chafed at the prayer. Either she was pregnant or she wasn’t. Moaning to God wasn’t going to change that. Neither would ignoring the possibility. But she didn’t want to know, not today. Not on her last day with Paul until spring.
She blinked, trying to clear her vision and read the instructions on the home pregnancy test. “I’ll do it,” she said through gritted teeth. “But I’m not staying to read the outcome.”
Pulling back on the reins, Hannah made the horse move at a snail’s pace, biding her time so she could control her trembling. When Gram’s farm came into view, Hannah spotted Paul’s truck parked in the driveway.
She tugged at the right rein, pulling in behind it. Paul stepped outside before he could possibly have heard the buggy. He waved. His face beamed.
Inside her, a roar of determination exploded. She wasn’t going to sink into a heap, not today. When she returned home, she was certain she would discover that the test proved she wasn’t pregnant.
As she pulled the buggy closer to the barn, Paul fell in step beside it. Once inside, she pulled the reins and yanked the brake. Paul opened the buggy door and held out his hand. “I was getting worried that you couldn’t get away.”
She grabbed the book from under the seat and took his hand. “The Eshes’ cows got out.”
Sisters of the Quilt Page 20