Gideon raised his hand, motioning her to stop talking. “No one else may ever understand how scary this is for you, a young girl facing her dreams with little money and even less formal education. But what do you want from life in five, ten, or twenty years from now?”
She knew the answer to that. “I think I need to talk to Dr. Lehman. If I’m gonna go to school while taking a chance on working with the Amish, I want it to be with him at the birthing centers—whether he thinks he needs me or not.”
As Faye drove along the back roads toward Zabeth’s place, it was hard for Hannah to believe how things had turned around for her, and she said a silent prayer of thanks. Across from Hannah in the backseat of the beat-up vehicle, Zabeth chatted with Faye. When they passed the same fine brick home Hannah had seen the last time she was out this way, an eerie sensation slid up her spine. It was only last Monday that Gideon had driven her down this street in search of her aunt.
She’d called Dr. Lehman last night. At first he said he didn’t have the need or the time to train her, but when she laid out all the coincidences that had brought her across his path, the phone line went completely silent, as if he needed time to absorb it all. Finally he spoke, agreeing to hire her. Of course he had concessions she had to agree to, like using some of her recuperation time to train on his office computers. The decision she’d made about stepping into the medical field to work with the Amish felt good, and she could only hope it was right.
But she knew she’d never really feel free unless … “How hard is it to change a last name?”
Zabeth’s eyes grew large for a moment. “I can help you do that.”
Faye glanced back at her. “You’ll need your birth certificate though.”
Her heart skipped a beat as she turned to her aunt. “I didn’t bring it.”
Her aunt reached across the seat and patted Hannah’s hand. “A good lawyer will know how to get a copy of that through a courthouse without your Daed or anyone else knowing a thing. Trust me.”
Faye slowed the vehicle and turned right onto the same long driveway Gideon had taken her on. “I wouldn’t suggest changing your first name. That’s too hard to get used to. But women are pretty comfortable changing their last names. My boyfr—husband, Richard, can put you in contact with people who can help.”
Faye passed the dilapidated house Gideon had brought Hannah to last week. A few hundred feet beyond, after a row of thick hedges, she slowed almost to a stop before turning right. Hannah couldn’t believe how close she and Gideon had been to her aunt’s place when they gave up and left.
Zabeth’s forehead wrinkled. “What would you want your last name to be?”
“Well, I wouldn’t want it to be the same as yours. My parents might think of that—” She lost her train of thought as the car topped a knoll and a small log cabin came into sight. Smoke swirled out of its chimney, reaching toward the heavens before it dispersed. A porch ran the length of the cabin, and there was a clothesline with dresses shifting under the frigid breeze. Her eyes misted at the sight.
When the car came to a stop, Hannah climbed out, never taking her eyes off the view before her.
Faye slammed her car door shut. “I told you there wasn’t much to it.”
Around the side of the yard Hannah could see a place where the snow lay in neat rows. A garden was buried there, just waiting on spring.
She cleared her throat and turned to tell Zabeth it was perfect. “Es iss fehlerfrei.”
Zabeth nodded and wrapped her in a hug. “So denk ich aa.” She drew back, looking into Hannah’s eyes. “Des iss aa alleweil dei Heemet. Ya?”
Hannah’s emotions were too thick for words as Zabeth told her this was her home now. She fell into her aunt’s embrace. “Ya.”
“Okay, guys, the least you could do is insult the place in a language I can understand.”
Hannah stepped back, too surprised at Faye’s words to respond. Her eyes moved to Zabeth, and they broke into laughter. Obviously Faye didn’t understand Zabeth’s love for this place.
“Come on, child.” Zabeth led her up the front steps while talking over her shoulder to Faye. “Perhaps such a fancy Englischer as yourself can get Hannah’s bag out of the trunk and join us in our fine abode … if you can stand it.”
Faye huffed, but she went to the trunk of the car.
The front door was made from three vertical planks of rough-hewn wood and had a tiny peephole drilled in it. Zabeth opened the door, and they stepped into a small, scantly furnished room. One lone bulb hung from the middle of the ceiling. Nothing hung on the walls but a plain, round clock. A tiny kitchen sat off to the left, too small for even the dining table to fit in it. The table and chairs were in the main room. To her right, two open doors led into what Hannah figured were bedrooms. The place was more plain than Hannah’s own home—except for a shiny piano. She stared at the instrument.
Zabeth shrugged. “I guess that does look a bit out of place.” She gestured across the room. “I have a stereo and stacks of CDs in my bedroom that fit no part of this landscape either.”
Faye closed the door with her foot and dropped Hannah’s bag in front of a couch that had clearly seen better days.
Zabeth slid out of her coat. “So, Hannah, you will need to have a last name. What will you choose?”
Hannah’s cheeks burned. She’d put the name on the application, but saying it out loud was asking a lot. “I like the name Lawson, although I don’t know why. It just came to me when I was filling out an application.”
“Well, Miss Lawson, your room is right there.” Zabeth pointed to one of three rooms directly off the living room. “The room next to it is mine. The bathroom is the only other door, and it doubles as a coat closet. That’s the whole place.” She chuckled.
Faye sat and propped her feet up on the coffee table. “You know, Richard works construction and travels a lot for business. So if you want to write letters home now and then without revealing your whereabouts, he could drop them in the mail for you from different cities and states.”
“I did promise to write to Mary, Luke, and Matthew, and I’d like to do that without worrying about being traced.”
Zabeth set her glass in the sink. “And by this time tomorrow, I hope to know who Mary, Luke, and Matthew are.”
Hannah cocked her head. “And I’ll know all sorts of things about you too, right?”
Zabeth paused. “Sure.” Grasping the scarf at the base of her neck, she tightened the knot.
Hannah swallowed. “What illness were you referring to in your letter to Daed?”
Zabeth shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. You turn eighteen soon enough, and I’m here now.”
Hannah took a sip of her water. She only had now?
Heavy-eyed from a long night of wrestling with her fears and her conscience, Mary placed the “Past and Future” quilt onto the brown paper and folded the sides around it. Having come to some decisions, she was grateful for the rules of privacy over her medical charts. Unfortunately the reason for her thankfulness boiled down to one goal: deception.
Just a tad—nothing major like Hannah had done.
But Mary wasn’t going to lose Luke—no matter what it took.
The doctor told her that she appeared to be healing quite well, although he wanted to read the results of her next CT scan before he allowed her to resume all her previous duties as the only daughter of a large family.
He’d been quite firm about her not marrying unless she was very careful for several years not to get pregnant.
Easy for him to say. He believed in using birth control.
After explaining a hundred things that sort of made sense and sort of didn’t, he’d looked her in the eye. “The baby would be fine, but a pregnancy for you, specifically the labor and delivery, could be very dangerous. I don’t know how to make it any plainer, Mary. You either need to use birth-control pills or not get married for at least five years. Okay?”
She grabbed a piece of scrap material an
d wrapped it around each side of the package. No, it wasn’t okay. Thoughts of the latest news she’d learned pressed against her. It was a bad enough indication of her future that Hannah had up and left two weeks ago. Now Mary had learned from her father that Zeb Lapp had done the same thing some twenty-two years ago—abruptly moved away from his Mamm, Daed, and all his siblings. All her father remembered about Zeb’s arrival here was that something had happened in his old community that didn’t sit well, so he left. When he decided to settle in Owl’s Perch, the bishop verified he was in good standing with his old church and welcomed him into their fellowship. That information, along with knowing how quickly and easily Hannah had decided to leave on her own, had opened Mary’s eyes to what could happen. She didn’t think Hannah knew what her father had done. She doubted if Luke knew it, but pulling up stakes and leaving everyone behind was in their blood. Had to be.
Luke was so frustrated with his family and the church leaders for how they’d handled Hannah that Mary feared if he had to wait on her to marry him, he might just leave Owl’s Perch for a spell. Through the grapevine, she happened to know that Mervin Stoltzfus had already offered Luke a job in Lancaster. And while he was working and living there, he might find someone else. But if she and Luke began to make plans to marry in the next wedding season, then he’d be hers forever.
She tied the material into a bow. It was time to give this to Paul and see if Luke had talked to the bishop yet. Maybe he’d give them permission, and she wouldn’t need to fudge on the truth.
She suddenly felt flushed.
When the doctor took follow-up pictures of her injuries from the buggy accident, if it all looked healthy and strong, then why should he tell her to wait?
Doctors. Sometimes they wanted too much say over her life. Regardless of what that doctor wanted, she would begin her instruction period in April and join the faith in September—all in preparation to marry Luke the next wedding season.
She grabbed her shawl and the package. Buggy rides made her miserably nervous since the accident, but what was on her mind was more important than trembling hands and an aching chest. Besides, she’d talk her Daed into dropping her off there and then going on. Luke would see to it she got back home.
Paul wanted a chance to talk to Luke before he returned to school and work on Monday. He’d missed two full weeks of school and was no closer to knowing where Hannah was than before. It was time to try to catch up and graduate as planned. Hannah had made her decisions, and if she changed her mind, he was fairly confident Luke would contact him.
He used the newly worn path between Gram’s and the harness shop. When he walked inside, an Amish man was at the counter ordering something from Luke.
“Welcome. Be with you in a minute.” Luke didn’t even look up as he spoke the words.
Taking a moment to look out the window, Paul noticed that Gram had a visitor pulling into her driveway. Oddly enough, it looked like the Millers from his Mennonite community in Maryland. If it was, that probably meant their eldest daughter, Dorcas, would be with them.
The car stopped and let Dorcas out before pulling on up to Gram’s house. Dorcas opened the mailbox and checked inside it, then closed it and started walking toward Gram’s. Paul was curious but turned his attention back to Luke as he told the customer bye.
“Hey” Luke grabbed a poker and stoked the wood stove, though the place was already way too warm to suit Paul. “Mary wanted to see you. She should be here any minute.”
“She wanted to see me?”
Luke chuckled. “You see somebody else I could be talking to?”
Paul shook his head, not at all sure he cared to hear what Mary might have to say to him. He’d met Mary for the first time two weeks ago when he’d demanded to see Hannah and then sped off without hearing her out.
Luke set the poker next to the stove. “I spoke to Matthew the other day. The church leaders are looking for a midyear replacement for Elle. She teaches at the school. If they don’t find one, she’ll finish out the school year, but then she’s going away with her dad for six months. Matthew and I are thinking about using that time to expand our businesses by joining under one roof—E and L Buggy, Harness, and Horses.”
Paul frowned. “Buggy, harness, and horses? All three? I don’t think I’ve ever seen all three combined into one business before.”
Luke wiped his hands down his workshop apron. “It’s a hunk to try to pull off, but if it works out, we’ll add three new rooms onto his place, and this building will become storage.”
“But can’t you do just as well separately without such a big gamble?”
“See, as it stands, when one of us needs to travel to get supplies or drum up business—like when Matthew needs to deliver things to an out-of-state customer—the shop has to be closed for several days. But if we work together, one of us can mind the shops while the other travels for business. Plus we can combine our energy and creativity and really make a go of this business.”
“Sounds like some long days of hard work ahead.”
“Yeah, if Mary isn’t well enough for us to wed this season, I might rent out our upstairs apartment and even spend a bit of time in Lancaster. Mervin Stoltzfus needs some help and is willing to pay good money and give me a place to live while I’m there.”
“But if you’re trying to build a new business here, why would you take that on too?”
Luke moved behind his work counter. “A new business needs money. I can make good money working part-time for Mervin and sink that money into E and L. Besides, the new business shouldn’t require both of us to be here all the time. Just don’t tell Mary about the Lancaster deal. It’s something I’m only thinking about.”
“Sure. I can keep it a secret …” Paul rubbed his fingers and thumb together. “For a price.”
Luke laughed. “Renting out my apartment upstairs will be a good source of income, but the idea of living at home when I’m not in Lancaster is a miserable one.”
Through the small window to his left, Paul saw Dorcas walking toward the shop. Gram must have told her where he was. He appreciated Dorcas’s opinion on certain things, but she seemed to have taken on the powers of a bounty hunter of late. Though tempted to moan and complain to Luke about her, he resisted.
He turned his attention back to Luke. “Maybe while you’re enlarging Matthew’s shop, you should build yourself a place to sleep there. You could take your meals and showers at the Esh place or with Mary’s folks.”
Luke’s face lit up. “That’s a good idea.” He slapped Paul on the shoulder. “I knew you college boys were good for something.”
Paul chuckled. “Thanks.”
The door popped open, and Dorcas entered with a smile. “Sign says you’re open for business. Should I have knocked?”
Luke turned. “Knocking isn’t necessary when we’re open. Can I help you with something?”
“Luke,” Paul said, “this is Dorcas Miller. She’s a friend of my mother’s, and she’s not in need of any leather.” Unless we can use it to strap her to a chair in her house in Maryland.
Dorcas entered the shop, but before she closed the door, they saw Mary getting out of a buggy.
“Mary,”—Luke went to the front door—“come warm up by the stove.”
Mary had a package in her hand as she paused just inside the door. “Did you speak to the bishop?” Her voice was hushed, but Paul heard her clearly.
Luke put his arm around Mary’s shoulders. “I tried, but before I got started, he said there’s too much going on right now for him to make any more decisions. He’ll talk to me in a few months.”
Disappointment covered Mary’s face before she looked at Paul and held the package toward him. “I brought you something.”
He felt nailed to the floor.
“Hannah and I made it, but she did most of the work, and it was her idea.”
Paul’s mouth went dry. He slid the brown paper off, letting it fall to the floor.
Running his hand ov
er the thick, textured quilt, he couldn’t believe Mary was giving him anything.
Mary smiled as a tear trickled down her cheek. “It has more of Hannah in it than anything else we own. Luke and me wanted you to have it.”
He stared into Mary’s eyes, wondering how she could so easily forgive him. He looked to Luke, who nodded his approval.
“I don’t know what to say.”
Skimming her delicate hands across the fabric, she whispered, “It’ll keep you warm until Hannah returns.”
The realization that Mary hadn’t given up on Hannah’s marrying him sat well with Paul. Suddenly the quilt meant even more. “Thank you.”
Dorcas stepped forward. “This is amazing. Did you say Hannah made this?”
Mary stroked the blanket. “Yes. She called it a ‘Past and Future’ quilt. It has patches of cloth from our childhood and patches of material from fabric we plan to use for our clothing in the future.”
A car door slammed, breaking the spell of the moment. The front door opened, and a man strolled in.
“May I help you?” Luke asked.
The man pointed toward his car. “I’m thinking about getting a leather cover for my seats.”
“Sure.” Luke went behind the counter and pulled out a catalog.
While Luke prepared to assist the newcomer, Paul turned to Mary, touching the edging of the quilt. “I can’t believe you’re giving this to me. Just saying thank you doesn’t seem like enough.”
In spite of the whispers inside her head that made her feel crazy, Sarah refused to give up on her quest. Hannah’s baby was alive and well, and someone had to know where. She tugged on the reins, guiding the horse to slow down. Since she had baked some goods for others in the community, Mamm had said she could go out visiting for a while as long as she didn’t go on foot or by bike. Clearly Daed hadn’t told her where he’d found Sarah during her last trip out visiting.
She pulled the buggy off the side of the snow-and-muck-covered dirt road just before the knoll. On the other side of this hill, maybe two hundred feet away from her, sat Luke’s shop, and not far to the side of that was Mrs. Waddell’s place.
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