Amish Protector

by Marta Perry

  Joanna chuckled. Aunt Jessie had a point. The woman did seem to be all thumbs, but she certain sure was enthusiastic. She chattered the whole time she worked, mostly about what seemed an endless number of near catastrophes in her life.

  They began to put out the layers that would become the quilt—the backing, the batting and finally the quilt top that had been so painstakingly pieced over the weeks. They’d planned a joint project for this class, with the quilt to be donated to a nearby nursing home for one of the patients. Hopefully, he or she wouldn’t mind a few inconsistencies.

  Joanna let her mind drift from the job at hand, so of course it went right back to the previous day and her anger at Noah. Somehow, it wasn’t as easy to drum up the anger as it had been then. He shouldn’t have blamed her so quickly, but she thought he probably regretted opening up to her as much as he had. She’d known, somehow, that he seldom did that with anyone outside his family, if he even talked about it there.

  She smoothed the quilt top flat with her palm, enjoying the blending and contrast of the colors. Aunt Jessie liked to tell beginners that piecing a quilt was like piecing a life together. Life had bright spots and dull ones, times of pain and times of joy, but all the pieces together could form a beautiful quilt. Or a beautiful life.

  Did her parents think Joanna’s adoption was a bright patch? Certainly, it had brought joy in many ways, but today’s confusion and worry were a part of it, as well.

  “What are you fretting about?” Aunt Jessie’s question was so apt that it startled her.

  “Nothing, really.” But that wasn’t true. On impulse she spoke. “Aunt Jessie, do you think a person...like Noah...ever gets over all the sadness and fear he experienced as a child?”

  Her aunt’s face showed her concern. “Has he talked to you about his daad?”

  “Just a little. He said he still gets the feeling that people, even the Leit, look down on him or feel sorry for him. I wish...”

  “I think I can guess what you wish,” she said.

  “Really? Because I’m not even sure what I wish myself.” Joanna saw Noah’s face again in her mind.

  “This is about what your daad said in the sermon yesterday, ain’t so?” Aunt Jessie shook her head. “Noah should realize that meant your daad was calling the whole congregation to repentance. Preparing for communion demands it. No one may come to the table while nursing a grudge against his neighbor. It’s not just about Noah. It’s about all of us.”

  “Yah, I know. I just wish I could help him see that.”

  Aunt Jessie fiddled with the roller handle as if her mind was elsewhere. “It’s not easy to help someone, even if you think you know how. So often there are unexpected consequences to even the kindest deed.”

  Joanna suspected Aunt Jessie was thinking about her adoption, not Noah’s troubles. Jessie had done what she thought was best in helping Mamm and Daad cover up the circumstances, but now so many complications had come from that.

  Before she could speak, the front door rattled. They both turned to look. Chief Jamison came in with Noah following him and looking as if he’d rather be anywhere else.

  “Joanna, I need to talk to you,” Jamison said, and added a perfunctory, “Sorry to interrupt.”

  “I don’t think Joanna wants me here.” Noah’s hand was still on the door as if he’d flee at a moment’s notice.

  “Don’t be ferhoodled,” Joanna said. “Komm.”

  “Go in the back room.” Aunt Jessie sounded resigned. “I can take care of things.”

  No one spoke as the two men followed Joanna into the small room at the back and Jamison closed the door.

  “Now we can talk,” he said.

  Joanna’s mind flew to Meredith. “Is Meredith all right?”

  “She’s fine for now.” Jamison’s square face tightened. “I want to keep her that way.”

  “Don’t we all?” Noah still looked impatient.

  “Not the person who attacked her.” Jamison snapped the words.

  Apparently trying to control himself, Jamison shook his head. “Look, here’s the situation. Right now she’s in the hospital and I’ve got someone keeping an eye on her room, but I can’t do that forever. What if that cousin of hers gets the court to send her off to Philadelphia? How can they protect her when they don’t know what’s going on?”

  “It’s not as if we know,” Joanna pointed out. “I wish we did.”

  “Here’s what I want. I need you to think over everything that’s happened again. Since the attack on Saturday, I’m not content with saying Meredith’s original fall was an accident.”

  She had never really thought it was, Joanna realized. Before she could say anything, Jamison went on.

  “And what about the break-in here? Was it connected? That’s where I need the two of you to think through the whole week. Was there anything odd, anything that didn’t seem to make sense to you? I’m grasping at straws, and I don’t like it.” His ruddy face had turned the color of a brick.

  Noah turned to her, and she knew what was in his mind. “I think you’d best tell him.”

  Joanna closed her eyes for a moment, trying to shut it out, but he was right. She turned to the chief, organizing her thoughts—what to say, what to leave out.

  “After the break-in, when I was getting my things together to stay overnight, it seemed to me that someone had searched my bedroom.” She lifted her palms in a helpless gesture. “I can’t be positive, but I thought everything was just a little off where it should be.”

  “Nothing missing?”

  She shook her head. “No. I’m sure not. I went over it again and again. The only thing I wondered about someone looking for was this.” She drew the fine chain out from the neck of her dress and let the small gold heart dangle from her fingers. She had to force herself to go on. “My mother said it was given me by my birth mother.”

  Jamison touched it lightly, making it swing. “That’s not the sort of thing an Amish woman would own.”

  “No,” she said, and braced herself for the questions.

  Jamison seemed to study her for a long moment. Then he shook his head. “I don’t want to know every secret good people have. But if your birth mother was English, that goes a long way to explaining this.” He pulled some folded papers from his pocket, spreading them out for her to see.

  She looked at the printed sheet blankly, not sure what she was seeing.

  “The DNA results,” Jamison said. “The lab came through with it faster than we thought. This one is yours—” he pointed “—and this one is Ms. Bristow’s. According to the analysis, the chances are very good that you’re related. Closely related, like cousins or siblings.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  JOANNA STOOD, STUNNED and shocked. Jamison, looking as if he needed to escape, thrust the papers at Joanna and started toward the door.

  “I’ll give you a little time to get used to it. And think again about everything that happened. There has to be something that will point us to the truth. We’ll talk again.”

  He left, closing the door firmly behind him. Joanna stared at the papers in her hand, trying to focus on the words, but they jumped and danced before her eyes. What was worse, she didn’t even know if she wanted to be able to see what was written there.

  Aware of Noah standing silent next to her, she held them out to him. “You look. I can’t make any sense of it.”

  “Are you sure you want me to see this?”

  She pushed them toward him again. “Why not? You already know everything that I do.”

  His hand closed over the pages, and Joanna was relieved to let them go. It was too much, happening too fast. Still, she’d known all along it might come to this—known from the moment when Noah had pointed out the resemblance.

  It hadn’t just been the resemblance, though. When she sat next to Meredith in the hospital room, teasing
her gently to respond, she’d known that they were connected. She’d felt it, and that was why she’d been so determined all along to learn the truth. She and Meredith shared a bond even though they’d barely started to know each other.

  Joanna leaned against the counter she and her aunt used for cutting quilt squares, needing to feel something solid. Everything else was whirling out of control, especially her thoughts. Even the familiar room with its bolts of fabric and row of quilting books seemed oddly askew.

  Next to her, Noah’s solid frame was the only still point. He studied the papers, frowning a little as he looked from one to the other, his eyes grave and intent. Finally, he put the report down on the table, centering it before leaning back again, his arm brushing hers.

  “I don’t understand all the charts, but the conclusion seems clear enough. Like the chief said, it shows that you two are closely related.” He turned the frown on her. “Does that sound possible with what your parents told you?”

  He was waiting for a response, but she couldn’t find one.

  Noah nudged her elbow. “Joanna?”

  “I suppose. I mean, they obviously didn’t know anything about the mother, so anything is possible.”

  “Yah, well, this is the answer you said you wanted, ain’t so? Now you have it.”

  “I guess I did.” She shook her head, then pressed her fingers against her forehead as if that would help settle her thoughts. “Now...now I’m not so sure.”

  “It’s a shock, maybe. But you can handle it.” His voice was steady; for an instant she resented it. Easy enough for him to be calm. He hadn’t just had his world turned upside down. But that was childish.

  “I thought I could, but now I look at myself and I see a little girl, playing at being grown-up. Playing at being independent and handling everything herself.”

  She seemed to have traveled very far in a short time, making her look back a long distance to the girl she used to be, so foolishly confident. “Now...I have to live up to what I’ve claimed to be.”

  “Yah, that’s so.”

  Noah’s voice didn’t give any clue to his opinion. She wanted to look at him, to see what expression was hidden in his eyes, but she couldn’t.

  “I guess what I really want is to stay safe in my own little world.” Joanna tried to manage a smile at her own foolishness.

  “It hasn’t been all that safe,” he said. He touched the bruises on her neck with his fingertips, very lightly, sending a shimmer of warmth through her. “All right, so now you know. What will you do about it? How is it going to change your life?”

  She frowned at him. “That’s not being very sympathetic. Do you really think I know the answer to that?”

  Noah’s lips quirked. “Now you’re sounding more like your usual self. As for being sympathetic...well, I can either prod you to face facts or I can sympathize. And if I try to comfort you... I don’t think that’s a good idea.” His voice was husky with emotion. “It means too much now to touch you. To me, at least, and maybe to you. I can’t pretend you’re just a friend, Joanna. I care too much for that.”

  There was no playing games about it. He was right...they were both aware of how strong their attraction was, all the more dangerous because of its strength. Whether it would lead to anything was a complicated question, so they’d best be careful. Their beliefs didn’t allow anything else.

  Joanna straightened, giving a short nod. “You’re right. I have to face it. This is what my parents have feared all along...that I would want to know. And that, in knowing, I would want to leave them for the Englisch world.”

  “Is that what you want, Joanna?”

  Joanna’s breath caught in her throat, and she spun around. Aunt Jessie stood in the doorway. Joanna had been so deeply engrossed in what they were saying that she hadn’t even heard the door open.

  “To leave?” Revulsion at the thought surged through her. “No, I don’t want that. At least, I don’t think I do.” She bit her lip.

  “But you can’t leave it alone, can you?” It wasn’t said in a critical way, but as a simple statement of fact. Jessie knew her too well.

  Joanna struggled with the answer and came up with the truth. “No, I can’t. Meredith is my kin, even if she doesn’t know it. I can’t leave her alone when she’s in danger.” At least that was clear, if nothing else was.

  Aunt Jessie nodded as if she hadn’t expected anything else. “What are you going to tell your parents?”

  “I...I don’t know.” She felt like a coward. “Maybe they’ll never need to know.”

  Her aunt just looked at her for a long moment. Then she turned and walked away, leaving them alone.

  “Jessie makes her feelings known without saying a word, ain’t so?” Noah’s expression was as disapproving as her aunt’s had been.

  “Don’t.” She felt like striking out in her frustration, and Noah was the only one there. “I don’t want to hurt them. Is that so wrong?”

  “Now it’s my turn to say don’t. Don’t be so foolish. You can’t keep something like that from them. They’re bound to have questions. Will you lie to them?”

  “If I did, would it be so terrible? I’m trying to protect them.” How had she become the one doing wrong in their eyes?

  “They kept the truth from you,” he reminded her. “That didn’t help matters in the long run.” He paused, and it seemed to her that he was struggling with himself over what he wanted to say. “Listen to me, Joanna. I do know something about lying in families, even for the best of motives. I grew up with it. Mamm and I tried to keep the truth about Daad from the younger ones, and we both tried to pretend it wasn’t happening to the rest of the church.”

  “Anyone would do the same.”

  “If they did, they’d be wrong.” Passion filled his voice. “People know, at some level, that they’re being lied to. Even if they don’t admit it, they know. The kinder did, and I think it hurt the younger ones even when they tried to hide it.” His face tightened, his skin drawing against the bones, making him look years older. “We tried so hard to protect Daad from the church knowing, and we probably kept him from getting the help he needed early enough.”

  Joanna saw the pain in his face as he admitted it. She wanted to reach out and comfort him, but when she remembered his words, she didn’t dare.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “Just don’t do it to your family,” he said, the pain clear in his voice. “The truth is always better.”

  He went out of the room, leaving her alone. They’d all left her alone, because they knew she was the only one who could deal with this knowledge. And she had begun to fear she couldn’t.

  * * *

  NOAH MADE HIS way back to the hardware store, thinking if he had talked to Joanna any longer, she’d probably end up angry with him again. He hadn’t missed the fact that the offense she’d taken when he spoke about her father had vanished, rolled up and swept away by more recent developments. Still, he did owe her an apology for blindsiding her about the bishop’s sermon.

  The news Chief Jamison brought had clearly knocked Joanna off her usual steadiness. She’d thought she’d been prepared to know about her relationship with Meredith, but she wasn’t.

  That was natural enough. Anyone would feel the same way at finding out they weren’t who they thought they were. And Joanna had such a burden to keep from hurting anyone, especially those she loved.

  He had longed to help her—he still did—and the desire to put his arms around her and comfort her had almost been too strong to resist. Almost, but not quite.

  Talking about his past had made it all worse. He couldn’t remember his father without remembering the drinking and the violence. Without making him wonder how much of his father’s weakness was in him.

  Thank the gut Lord he’d never been attracted by strong drink, but the violence, turned so quickly agai
nst loved ones, wrenched his stomach. What man could truly be sure he’d never strike out against anyone, even knowing the church’s teaching? His own memories were too vivid to let him risk it.

  To Noah’s relief, he began to have customers almost as soon as he turned the door sign to Open. Amish customers. It was pretty clear that the bishop’s sermon had hit home, and he couldn’t help being annoyed that people who should be his brothers in faith had to be lectured about patronizing his store.

  All he could do was smile, say thank you and be helpful to everyone who walked in the door. He couldn’t let customers get away because of his pride, not when he had a family to support.

  Midway through the afternoon, Michael Forster came in, no doubt prompted by the bishop as the others had been. Michael had come to River Haven back in the spring, after years away from his family and the Amish faith. He’d returned under a cloud, but he’d stayed to become a part of the community again and was soon to marry Joanna’s good friend Catherine.

  Noah moved forward to greet him. “Michael. Can I help you with something today?”

  “Yah, denke.” Michael put a list down on the counter. “I’m working on an addition to a house over near Smithton. Ready to start on the finishing, so there’s a lot I need.”

  Noah leaned over to check the first item on the list. “Cabinet knobs and handles. The owner doesn’t want to pick those out?”

  Michael grimaced. “Husband and wife can’t agree, so they left it up to me. Show me what you have, and I’ll do my best, but...”

  “They probably won’t like them.” Noah finished for him, leading the way to the appropriate rack. “No problem. You can exchange as many times as you need.”

  He stood by while Michael browsed through the selection. “I hear you and Cathy are doing up that house on the nursery property.”

  Michael grinned. “News flies, ain’t so? We just made up our minds last week. We’ll like being close to family.” He took a porcelain knob off the rack. “What do you think of this one?”

  “They wear well, but they’re not as popular as they once were.” He shrugged. “Sounds silly that I know such a thing, but I have to carry a variety for my Englisch customers—not that I have so many of those now.”