“Matthew and David are in the hospital.”
“How badly are they injured?” She felt Martin’s hand on her back, comforting her already.
“I don’t know.” Sarah cried harder. “I’m sorry for the stuff I spread, Hannah. I … I’m sorry.”
“Hush now, Sarah, hush.” Hannah almost choked on the words. Of all the people she’d missed since moving here, Sarah was not one of them. She had betrayed Hannah too many times.
Sarah drew a ragged breath. “It’s my fault. Because of what I did to you. The fire’s coming for our house. Don’t you see? First the Bylers’ place, now Matthew’s. It’s moving closer. It’s coming for me.”
“Oh, sweetie.” Hannah reverted to the tone she’d used in their childhood when Sarah would get so nervous she couldn’t catch her breath. “I’ll head for home by midmorning. Everything will be okay.”
“Really?”
Hannah’s breath caught. The idea of going home didn’t hold near as much terror as it once had, but it was far from appealing. “Yes, I’ll be home by tomorrow night.”
Through broken sobs, Sarah whispered, “Thank you.”
A dial tone buzzed in her ear. After a moment, she pushed the disconnect button.
Martin grabbed a lawn chair and pulled it up behind her. “What’s going on?”
She sat. “That was my … my sister Sarah. There was a fire. I … I need to go home.”
Concern flickered across his brow. “How long?”
“Just a few days.”
“How did she get my phone number?”
“I don’t know.”
Martin knelt in front of her. “Will you be back before school on Monday? If you miss, with their policy of mandatory—”
“I don’t know, but I’ll be home by Wednesday for sure.”
“I’ll take time off from work and go with you. Laura can keep Lissa and Kevin here.”
Hannah shook her head. “You don’t understand, Martin. My family may not even allow me in the house. The community will be cold, to say the least. If I take you, I’ll be treated worse than an outsider. If I have any hope of doing what needs to be done or of helping Sarah, I’ve got to do this alone.”
“But I can make this easier on you.”
“Not this time. You’re more likely to lose your temper and make things worse. I’m not treasured in Owl’s Perch like I’ve been since I landed here. You’ll have to trust me about this.”
He gave a reluctant nod. “What’s wrong with Sarah?”
“She’s a lot like Faye, only she doesn’t need the addiction to be an emotional wreck. She said her tongue set the fire.”
“Her tongue?” Disbelief etched across his face. “Is this the same Matthew you told me about?”
Nodding, she caressed Martin’s cheek. “Yes. He stood by me, helped me leave, and gave me money. I’ve got to go to him.”
Martin placed his hand over hers and rubbed it. “Hannah.” He stood and guided her to her feet. “Once you’re there, you’ll be faced with figuring out all sorts of things.”
“I think I’ll be figuring out how to get back to you, Kevin, and Lissa quickly. I’m coming back just as soon as I can.” She snuggled against him. “This isn’t going to be enjoyable, Martin.”
He kissed her forehead. “You’ll question what you really want, where you really fit in—that kind of stuff. I love you, Hannah Lawson. Don’t forget that.”
“I won’t, not for a minute. And I’ll return as quickly as I can.” She took a step back. “We need to explain this to Kevin and Lissa. And I need to pack.”
“We need to go over directions of how to get on the Ohio Turnpike.”
She took him by the hand and led him toward the cottage. “Before all that and before we talk to the kids, I have something I want to give you. It was supposed to be for your birthday in two weeks, but now’s a better time.”
Martin tugged at her hand. “I need to get something too and let the others know where we’ve gone.”
“Sure.” Hannah went into the storage room and lifted the repaired quilt from a box. She unfolded new wrapping paper across the kitchen table and laid the quilt inside. She still wasn’t sure who it had originally belonged to. The only thing she knew for sure was Zabeth had designed and sewn it. And since Hannah and her Plain friends at the quilting gatherings had repaired it, she was going to give it to Martin.
When she heard the knock on her door, she hurriedly put the last piece of tape in place and turned the package over. “Come in.”
Martin popped open the door and walked inside.
“I’ve been working on repairing something for you, so it’s not new.”
He took the gift from her. “May I open it now?”
“That’s the idea.”
He unwrapped it, tearing the paper at will. His face drained of emotion for a few seconds before he looked at her. “Where … did you find this … and how did you find the time?” He ran his finger over a corduroy square in the blanket.
“It was at the bottom of a box in the storage room. The Tuesday afternoon women’s group at the clinic always sews quilts for charity.” She grinned. “You’ll be glad to know you qualified.”
Martin chuckled. “Thanks.” His green eyes lingered on her before admiring the quilt again. He spread it out over the kitchen table. “I’ve missed this thing for years. Zabeth and Mom made this when Faye and I were children. Zabeth placed it over me at night every winter for years after my mom died, so it became mine.”
“Don’t put it in the washer, or it’ll fall apart again.”
“I didn’t know that.” He gazed at the multicolored patches. “This was from my mother’s wedding gown,” he said, pointing to a square of white satin. “And this,” he said, his finger moving to a patch of faded-blue denim, “is from my grandfather’s overalls. Did you know he was a dairy farmer?” His fingers skimmed each section tenderly. “This is from my first pair of cowboy pants, when I was four. This quilt is a patchwork of Palmer life—before it became a train wreck.”
“You’re doing the best anyone can to make things right.”
He laid the quilt on the chair and took her hands. “Hannah, I have something for you, but maybe it’s not appropriate as you head back to your Amish community.” He reached inside his jeans pocket and pulled out a small box. “It’s a birthstone ring.”
She opened the box to see a gold ring with two stones nestled in an S-shaped loop.
Martin removed it from the box. “It’s sort of a strange gift. One is Kevin’s birthstone, and the other is Lissa’s.” He chuckled. “Lissa’s stone is a diamond, and Kevin’s is a ruby—well, actually his is a garnet, but I think the ruby is the same basic color, right? And it’s a higher quality stone.” He lifted her left hand. “I know you haven’t said yes to anything, but if you’d wear this on your left hand, it’d mean a lot to me.”
Hannah watched as he slid it onto her finger. “Ah, so it’s an honorary mother’s gift, yet somehow it tells everyone I’m spoken for even though I’ve not accepted your rather brazen, albeit romance-free proposal. Have I missed anything?”
Martin kissed the finger that now wore the ring. “You know me entirely too well. But you skipped the fact that I am in love with you.”
“Oh, I never skip that part. I think about it all the time.” She slid her arms around his shoulders and hugged him. “Thank you for everything. I wouldn’t want to face Owl’s Perch without knowing I have you here waiting for me.”
“There’s one more thing.” He pulled some papers from his pocket and passed them to her.
She opened them. “A trip to Hawaii.” She glanced up. “Over Christmas?”
“Before you say no, consider this: Dave, Vicki, and Nina are going too. As are several top employees from the company. Kevin and Lissa aren’t near as likely to miss their parents as badly over Christmas if they are in a whole new setting. You’ll be finished with school, and we should celebrate. And my idea is perfect.”
; She couldn’t deny the idea was exciting—to get on a plane and fly, to see a beach for the first time in her life, and in Hawaii. “That’s you, isn’t it? Thinking through every angle of something and then going for it.” She folded the papers and passed them back to him. “I’ll look forward to it every day between now and then.”
Martin kissed her, sealing her determination to get back to him as soon as possible.
Luke paced the floor of the hospital while the Esh family talked with the doctor at Matthew’s bedside. The orangy smell of cleaning products was all too familiar, and it brought back awful memories from Mary’s time at a medical facility.
Elle waited at the end of the hall, looking like an outcast.
Mary came to his side and took his hand before laying her head on his shoulder. Luke turned and wrapped her in his arms. They’d survived their accident three years ago and recovered. But this time was different. There’d been a working cell phone and a car. Luke had the power and the means to make decisions.
Yet David hadn’t survived.
Matthew’s parents, Naomi and Raymond, came out of the room. Luke and Mary went to them, but Elle hung back, listening. Naomi stared straight into Luke’s face and spoke flatly. “He was awake and asking for you, but the pain medicine must’ve taken over, and he’s asleep for now. When he wakes, just know his eyes are covered with bandages, so he won’t be able to see you. None of the burns will require a skin graft.” She brushed her hands down the front of her apron.
“Does he know about David?”
Naomi nodded. “Yes.”
“And that the business is gone?”
She nodded again. “We told him everything.”
“Will he get his eyesight back?”
“Ash and soot from the ceiling fell into his eyes, but the doctor thinks that when the bandages are removed in a couple of days, he’ll be able to see.”
Grief was etched on Naomi’s and Raymond’s faces. They’d lost one son. Hopefully just one. Luke feared the weight of what had happened might break Matthew, even if he regained his eyesight. Raymond led Naomi to a chair and sat beside her.
Elle went into Matthew’s room.
Ignoring the ways of his people, Luke placed his hand on Mary’s protruding stomach, so thankful she hadn’t been near the shop when the explosion occurred. Everything dear to him was right here in his arms, but Matthew had lost his business and his brother. And if anyone asked Luke, the man had never had Elle to begin with, certainly not since her father returned.
He dreaded the realities that would beat Matthew without mercy for a long time to come. He walked to the doorway of Matthew’s room. An IV was attached to one arm, and he was lying on his stomach. Aside from the temporary problem with his eyes, nothing but the skin on his back had received burns. Elle stood beside the bed.
Matthew stirred. “Luke?”
Elle placed her hand over his. “It’s me—Elle.”
Matthew pulled away from her. “Go home, Elle. Just go.”
“Matthew, please. I’m so sorry—”
“Get out.”
Elle glanced up, spotting Luke. He nodded toward the door, confirming Matthew’s words.
Anxiety over Matthew and facing her father wore on Hannah as she drove across the Pennsylvania state line. She’d been foolish and desperate when she’d left home two and a half years ago, thinking freedom could be found in running away.
She’d arrived in Alliance broken; nevertheless God had given her Dr. Lehman, and he, in turn, had found Zabeth. And Zabeth had brought Martin, Lissa, and Kevin into her life, and Hannah loved them.
Her freedom had been found in the love they offered her.
But was anyone ever completely free?
She didn’t think so. Never free of troubles or of human need. But she was free to make mistakes or get caught in a trauma and still be loved. That was something Owl’s Perch couldn’t give her.
In spite of her reluctance to return, she looked forward to seeing the friends she’d left behind. And Paul? Well, it should be easy to avoid him. If she had to face him, she wouldn’t share how badly he’d hurt her. It wasn’t any of his business. He might be married to that Dorcas by now, or at least engaged, but Hannah had moved on.
Thoughts of Martin filled her mind. She’d done more than just move on, and even though her nerves said otherwise, Paul Waddell was simply someone she’d once thought she loved.
Nevertheless. For the first time in years, the word spoke softly in her spirit.
She’d face her father before leaving again.
Nevertheless.
She’d take these few days and find peace with her past. Then she’d return to Martin, Lissa, and Kevin.
Content with those thoughts, she drew a deep breath.
She didn’t know what would happen in Owl’s Perch, but she trusted the One who held her heart. The One who’d taught her that He was more powerful in her life than any injustice—past or future.
Acknowledgments
With deep gratitude I thank those who’ve faithfully helped me with this project.
My dear husband, your love and support make this possible.
Miriam Flaud, my dear Old Order Amish friend, who opens her home, reads each manuscript, and answers questions via her phone shanty because she has a heart of gold.
Eldo and Dorcas Miller, whose expertise about the Plain Mennonite community mixed with their willingness to teach me have been a tremendous blessing.
Joan Kunaniec, a wonderful Plain Mennonite who willingly shares her love and respect of the Plain ways.
Rick and Linda Wertz, whose readiness to help with research, photos, and accurate navigation of the Pennsylvania roadways is a gift in my life.
Jeffry J. Bizon, MD, OB/GYN, and his wife, Kathy, who make time to keep the medical information correct; I couldn’t have done this without your help.
To all the awe-inspiring people my husband and I met while spending a week in Alliance, Ohio. Your warmth and openness lingers with us still.
Mrs. Rhonda Shonk, Office Manager, Alliance City Schools Career Centre and the Robert T. White School of Practical Nursing, whom I relied upon to keep Hannah’s schooling experiences accurate.
Don and Jean Aebi and Sue Feller, residents of Alliance who shared information via e-mail after I returned home to Georgia. You made the nuances of being an Alliance resident come to life.
Steve Laube, my agent. I’m forever blessed to be one of your authors. You’re everything I’d hoped for in an agent. You have calmed my nerves and answered my newbie questions with the patience of Job. Thank you.
And a special thank-you to my editor extraordinaire, Shannon Hill, who is clearly skilled at molding lumps of clay. And to Carol Bartley, whose keen sense of story balance never ceases to amaze me. And to everyone at WaterBrook Press, I’m very grateful for all you do.
Glossary
aa—also or too
ach—oh
alleweil—now, at this time
da—the
Daadi Haus—grandfather’s house.
Generally this refers to a house that is attached to or is near the main house and belongs to a grandparent. Many times the main house belonged to the grandparents when they were raising their family. The main house is usually passed down to a son, who takes over the responsibilities his parents once had. The grandparents then move into the smaller place and usually have fewer responsibilities.
dabber—quickly or at once
Daed—dad or father
dei—your
denk—think
denke—thank you
des—this
draus—out
du—you [singular]
Dummkopp—blockhead or dunce
Englischer—a non-Amish person.
Mennonite sects whose women wear the prayer Kapps are not considered Englischers and are often referred to as Plain Mennonites.
es—it
fehlerfrei—-perfect
geh—go
gu
t—good
hatt—difficult or hard
Heemet—home
hilfe—-help
ich—I
in—in
iss—is
Kall—fellow
Kapp—a prayer covering or cap
kumm—come
kummet—come
letz—wrong
liewer—dear
loss—let
loss uns geh—let’s go
mach’s—make it
Mamm—mom or mother
Mammi—shortened term of endearment for grandmother
mol—on
muscht—must
net—not
Ordnung—The written and unwritten
rules of the Amish. The regulations are passed down from generation to generation. Any new rules are agreed upon by the church leaders and endorsed by the members during special meetings. Most Amish know all the rules by heart.
Pennsylvania Dutch—Pennsylvania German. The word Dutch in this phrase has nothing to do with the Netherlands. The original word was Deutsch, which means “German.” The Amish speak some High German (used in church services) and Pennsylvania German (Pennsylvania Dutch), and after a certain age, they are taught English.
rumschpringe—running around
schnell—quick(ly)
schpring—run
schtobbe—stop
schwetze—talk
seller—that one
so—so
uns—us
verhuddelt—confused
was—what
Welt—-world
will—will or wants to
ya—yes
* Glossary taken from Eugene S. Stine, Pennsylvania German Dictionary (Birdsboro, PA: Pennysylvania German Society, 1996), and the usage confirmed by an instructor of the Pennsylvania Dutch language.
Book Three
To my husband
I could fill a thousand books with words of love and still not have shared but a small portion of who you are to me.
Hannah’s car faded into the distance of the paved horizon. The cold concrete chilling Martin’s bare feet and the lukewarm cup of coffee in his hand confirmed that this was no way to begin a Saturday morning. Watching the place where Hannah’s vehicle had disappeared, Kevin and Lissa slowly stopped waving. For the first time since Hannah had landed in Ohio—two and a half years ago and not yet eighteen—she was on her way back to her Pennsylvania home and the Old Order Amish family she’d left behind. Maybe he should have insisted on going with her.
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