Where Shadows Meet

by Colleen Coble

  “I’m in your hands.” She grinned at the delight on Angie’s face and followed her to the kitchen.

  Something outside, a branch or the wind, caught her attention. “Did you hear something?” Hannah tipped her head to one side.

  “No.” Angie pushed her into a chair. “Come on, let’s do it before you change your mind. It won’t hurt a bit.”

  “That’s what you think.”

  “Just a trim.” Angie lifted a long lock of Hannah’s hair. “It’s all thin on the ends. We’ll trim a couple of inches and give it a few layers. You’ll be amazed at how much better it looks.”

  Her family already thought she was some kind of heathen. “Do it fast.”

  Angie sprang into action. “Just close your eyes. I’ll be gentle.”

  Minutes later, locks of russet hair lay around her in a heap. Did she even dare look at it—or touch it? Her scalp felt light as air, an odd sensation. Reaching up, she ran her hand through her hair. She’d been shorn. A smile played at her lips. She should have done this years ago.

  “You look amazing.” Angie’s lips tilted in a smile. “Go look.”

  Hannah went to the small half bath off the living room. Her hair was still long, reaching just past her bra, but the ends were straight and even. And the long layers Angie had cut into it released the natural curl. It didn’t even look like hers. She seemed different, wiser. And maybe she was.

  “Can I still put it up?”

  “Yes, but you’re not going to. You’re going to start wearing it down. It’s gorgeous and needs to be admired.”

  “I don’t want to draw too much attention to myself.” Except from Matt. The stray thought made her cheeks burn. She was still a married woman.

  Angie came up behind her. “Now for a little makeup. Though you really don’t need it. Your skin is so perfect.”

  “I think this is enough for one day,” Hannah said.

  “Nope, we’re going the whole hog. Sit still.” Angie stroked on eye shadow and blush. “You look amazing. Now for clothes. I want you to see what you look like in something that fits.”

  “It’s nearly time for bed,” Hannah said, glancing at her reflection one more time. Was that really her?

  “This won’t take long. I’ve got a dress that will look killer on you.” Angie grabbed her hand and dragged her down the hall. “Just try it on.”

  The spare room had a full-length mirror, and Hannah averted her eyes from it. Growing up, she’d been taught it was wrong to dwell on her appearance, and until she’d moved away with Reece, she’d never even seen herself in a full-length mirror. Even now, she found it hard to examine her body.

  Angie slid open the closet door and pulled out an umber sheath Hannah had seen her wear once. It was silky beneath her fingers, alluring. “I don’t think so,” she said, thrusting it back into Angie’s hand. She shuddered at the memories that flooded her.

  “Just for a second,” her friend coaxed. She pushed it back into Hannah’s hands.

  “Can I go to bed afterward? No more making me over?”

  “Okay. For tonight anyway. I want to knock the socks off the producers next week.”

  Hannah sighed and slipped off her long skirt and blouse. Angie slid the dress over her head, and it fell over her body in a soft shimmer.

  Angie’s eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open. “Wow. You look amazing.”

  The hem stopped at the top of her knees. The fabric was more like that of a nightgown than a dress. Hannah ran her palm over her hip. The material barely covered her, and she shivered when the cool air touched her heated skin.

  “Here. Put these on.” Angie pulled out a pair of strappy tan sandals.

  Just get it over with. Hannah stepped into the shoes and turned to look at the stranger in the mirror. The dress fit perfectly, outlining her shape. The color made her skin glow, and her hair seemed brighter by contrast. “I look like a streetwalker,” she said.

  “Okay, maybe I used a little too much blush and eye shadow. But you look beautiful,” Angie said.

  Where was the line between tasteful and overboard? Where was the balance? Just like fine quilts, a good life required balance. She hadn’t found it yet. This dress wasn’t her. Her fingers grabbed the hem and began to yank it upward just as the back door banged. “Is someone here?” She jerked the fabric down to her knees again and rushed down the hall. Reece stood in the doorway.

  Dressed in black pants and a white shirt, he looked like a typical Amish man. “How pretty you look, hon. Did you dress up just for me?” He crossed the distance between them in four steps and grabbed her arm. “We need to talk.”

  The strength left Hannah’s muscles. “Reece, what are you doing here?”

  Angie grabbed Hannah’s other hand. “Let go of her!”

  “This isn’t your concern,” Reece said. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get to your room and keep your trap shut. Otherwise, I’ll have to shut it for you.”

  “It’s okay,” Hannah said. “I’ll talk to him.” She glanced from Angie to the phone.

  Angie nodded. “I’ll be in my room. Call if you need me.”

  Hannah could still feel Reece’s eyes on her, stripping her of her self-regard, exposing her weakness, her guilt. Even with the darkest cloak of night around her, he would find her. She could travel to Tibet and make her home with the monks, and he would know. It was hopeless to dream of a life without his shadow blotting out the sunshine.

  She found her voice. “Leave me alone, Reece. I don’t want to talk to you.”

  “Let’s sit in the living room.” His fingers tightened on her wrist, and he tugged her to the sofa.

  She sank onto it, all strength gone. How long before the Rockville police showed up? Or Matt?

  Reece settled beside her. “I thought you’d want to hear an update on our daughter.”

  “Our daughter is dead. You killed her.”

  “Oh, she’s very much alive, Hannah. She’s been looking for her mommy. She needs you. I’m not good with kids.”

  “You—you don’t have her.”

  He coiled a lock of hair around his finger. “Are you sure? Hon, we belong together. You know it too. Quit fighting how you feel. No one has ever loved me like you. I’m lost without you. Come home. We’ll settle in Shipshewana. The bishop there has promised to help you repent and come under his guidance.”

  Hannah wanted to shut out the seductive sound of his voice. He was always able to make her doubt herself. She desperately wanted to know more, but she knew he was playing with her, toying with the scalding emotions that burned her chest. “Where is she?”

  “With me. Don’t you think she deserves a mother and a father?” His voice dropped to a softer pitch, sweet and gentle. “Come home, Hannah, and we’ll forget everything, all the past hurts. I won’t hit you again, I promise.”

  Hannah steeled herself against the pleading tone. “It’s a promise you can’t keep, Reece. I don’t believe you have her. Do you have a picture of the two of you together?” Her hands were shaking, and she clutched them together.

  “Not on me.”

  A siren screamed in the distance, then drew closer. He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “I’d better go. But I’ll get proof.”

  REECE SLAMMED THE door of his truck. She just didn’t understand yet. Women were the weaker vessel. Why couldn’t she understand he only wanted what was best for her? They belonged together. He only felt whole and strong when she was with him. His life had gone down the toilet after she left. Lost jobs, unpaid bills, too much drinking. But she would come back. He had to believe it.

  The sirens screamed past him. He’d have to snatch the kid, get a picture of the two of them together. He hadn’t wanted to have to do that unless there was no other way. The law would get involved. It would have been better for her to come home, then the two of them could go get custody. But the kid was the only thing that would bring Hannah home.

  No matter. He’d have it all—that perfect little family
everyone craved. The kid would adore him, and Hannah would rush to meet him when he came home from work.

  Driving out to the old homestead, where Reece had grown up, the years slipped away. Matt had never taken care of his grandmother the way he should, but Reece would, just as he always did. He stopped at the farmhouse and slipped an envelope containing cash into the mailbox. That should tide her over for another month. He should go see her, but she would disapprove of what he planned to do.

  He drove on to Gina’s house. The truck idled in the road as his gaze wandered over the place. They kept it up nice. He couldn’t remember who used to live here, but it was always run-down. A shadow passing the front window arrested his attention. He shut off the truck and killed the lights. Darkness hid his vehicle. Moments later the light flipped on and he could see Matt and a little girl enter the room.

  He should have realized Matt would stash her here. He wouldn’t want to run the risk of Hannah seeing her. Reece grinned. He’d like to be around when Hannah realized how Matt had been lying to her all this time.

  He stared at the child. His daughter. An unexpected emotion welled up in him as he gazed at her. His. She looked so much like Hannah. Sweet and pure, completely moldable. Why had he thought to give over her training to someone else? Matt could never be the father Reece could. It was up to Reece to raise her to be the right kind of woman. One who obeyed her husband someday. His gaze touched the child’s unruly hair again. He’d made a mistake, but he could fix it yet.

  MATT CARRIED CAITLIN piggyback down the hall toward the bedroom. The evening had gone by way too fast. It was great for Blake and Gina to keep her, but she belonged with him.

  He eased his daughter off his back and dropped her in the bed. “I’ll listen to your prayers, then I’ve got to go, princess.” He knelt on the floor beside the bed.

  She slipped onto the floor beside him and flung herself against him. “I want to come home, Daddy. It’s scary out here where it’s so dark outside.”

  “I know. It won’t be for long.” He kissed her again. “I’ll bring you a surprise tomorrow.”

  “I just want to come home.”

  Matt found it disconcerting to look in his daughter’s eyes, so much like Hannah’s. The problem was never far from his thoughts. “Me too. Now let’s pray.” He was touched to hear her sweet, simple prayer for him and her aunt Gina. And even for Trudy. As she prayed, he added his own plea for forgiveness for the lie he was living. Was it ever okay to lie—even for a good reason? He was Caitlin’s daddy. His role was to protect her. But the blow to his conscience was crippling.

  Still, he would endure anything for his little princess. He swelled with pride. She was turning out so well, even without a mother.

  She had a mother.

  He didn’t want to think about it. As Caitlin’s father, he was responsible for protecting her from people like Reece. She was too young to deal with all this. He kissed her and tucked the quilt around her. “’Night, princess. See you tomorrow.”

  “’Night, Daddy.” Her voice was muffled, and her eyes closed.

  He tiptoed out the door. The phone was ringing in the living room when he got there, and Gina answered it. “It’s for you,” she said. “The captain.”

  “Hey, what’s up?” Matt said into the phone.

  Sturgis’s voice blared in his ear. “I’ve been calling your cell for half an hour.”

  Matt’s hand went to his belt. The phone wasn’t there. “I must have left it in the SUV. What’s wrong?”

  “O’Connor picked the lock at your rental.”

  The alarm that spread up his spine surprised him. “On my way.” He ran for the door.

  “Gotta go,” he called to his sister. “Big problem.” She called after him, but he just waved and ran on to the vehicle.

  He expected to find the women cowering in the house, but instead, Hannah was making tea. Ajax lay at her feet.

  He stared at Hannah. She was dressed in some slinky number that showed off a set of amazing legs. She’d kept those hidden all these years? And she’d done something to her hair. It curled around her face and down her back in a tousle that made her look different, mysterious. Her hair and eyes brought to mind a roused lioness.

  Her gaze held determination. “He’s not going to terrorize me,” she said. “Not anymore.”

  “What happened?”

  She pointed to the door. “He drugged Ajax, then picked the lock on the kitchen door.”

  Matt knelt by his dog. “You okay, buddy?” Ajax whined and licked Matt’s hand, then dropped his head onto his paws again.

  Matt clamped down on the anger that rose within him. “We’re looking for Reece. He can’t hide for long. Every deputy in the county is on the lookout.”

  “You said you were sending a car by here,” she reminded him. “Where was it?”

  “The car only comes by every hour.” He didn’t know what Reece might do, but the man was dangerous. “I’ll stay here tonight, talk to the captain.”

  He went to the back door and examined the evidence. The lock had been jimmied, and scratches marred the brass. Ajax got up and followed, though he was a little wobbly. Stepping outside to the back deck, Matt scanned the dark yard. Reece would be long gone, but maybe he’d left a clue of some kind. He pulled a flashlight from his belt and let its beam sweep the ground. The recent rain had left the dirt soft. The grass was matted down under the kitchen window. The hair rose on the back of Matt’s neck. Reece had stood here and watched the women.

  What did the man want? Something so simple as wanting his wife back? Matt feared Reece was after more, that he wanted Caitlin too. But maybe not.

  He prowled around the yard for about half an hour, then headed to the back door.

  The screen door creaked as Blake came through it. “We got a call. Moe’s mother, Nora, was run off the road in her buggy. She’s dead.”

  Matt winced. This would hit Hannah hard. “It all seems directed at Hannah’s family.”

  Blake shrugged. “Might just look that way.”

  “This is very targeted.” Could it be that Reece had a vendetta against all of Hannah’s family? Maybe he wanted to strip her of all her support except for himself. Abusers isolated their victims, but this took it to a whole new level.

  “We’ve got to pick Reece up and question him.”

  “When did this happen?”

  “About an hour ago.”

  “But Reece was here, terrorizing Hannah.” Unease rustled in his gut. What was going on? “Did you tell Hannah about her aunt yet?”

  “Yeah.”

  The screen door opened again. Hannah’s strained face was wet, but she held on to her composure. “I need to be with my family. They’ll be hurting about this. I’d like to go out first thing in the morning.”

  “You all need protection. If we put you together in one place, maybe I can protect you all.” He wanted to tell her he was sorry about her aunt, but the words clogged his throat. She’d already been through so much. When he finally got the condolences out, she turned and walked back inside. He knew she wasn’t about to let him see her grief.

  SIXTEEN

  “The Tumbling Blocks Quilt is built piece by piece. It’s a picture of how the Amish life is built around community.”

  —HANNAH SCHWARTZ,

  IN The Amish Faith Through Their Quilts

  Hannah could count the days, the weeks, the months, the years since she’d seen Luca’s crooked smile. Ten years, six months, eleven days. An eternity. Yesterday.

  Tuesday morning, she sat in the car beside Angie and listened to the tick of the engine cooling. Could he really tear out his love for her, their past, like he pulled up the weeds in the garden? It seemed as though he had. He’d been back for several days and hadn’t come to find her.

  Maybe he was in the greenhouse. Oh, she was just making excuses. The fact was, he didn’t want to see her. If he did, he would have come to find her.

  She should have talked to her aunt sooner. Now w
hatever Nora knew was lost for good. Hannah had thought she had time.

  “Are we just going to sit here?” Angie asked. “Reconciliation doesn’t come unless you’re face-to-face.”

  “It doesn’t matter. He’ll do whatever the bishop says.” Hannah kept her eyes on the front door. Please, Lord, let him come to greet me. A useless prayer. God had forsaken her.

  Dressed in an A-line skirt and a sleeveless surplice blouse of Angie’s, she felt like a child playing dress-up. And that was the way she wanted it. Maybe she could step outside herself, be someone else, someone who could handle the rejection. Someone who would laugh at the pain.

  “Let’s go.” She shoved open her door and got out. A chicken fled from her feet, then turned and glared as if she were trying to steal the bug it had been after. She let Ajax out of the car. The dog’s presence always made her feel safer. The front door remained closed. The breeze ruffled her hair. No noise came from the open, screenless windows, but she sensed the family watched her from inside the house.

  Angie was beside her. “Want me to go first?”

  “No, I’ll go.” Hannah walked past the fragrant phlox and mounted the steps to the door. She rapped firmly on the screen door. The seconds ticked by with no one appearing. She knocked again, louder this time.

  Angie’s fist thundered on the door when again no one came. “We’re not going anywhere until we see Luca,” she called.

  Hannah shot her a quick look. “He won’t respond to open anger.”

  “He’s not responding at all right now.”

  Hannah nodded. “He will.” She settled herself onto the top step and waited. Angie shrugged and did the same. A kitten crept near, and Hannah tapped her leg and cooed to the small feline. The scent of horse and hay from the barn blew on the wind.

  She’d forgotten the stillness here. No whir of electric appliances, no cars. Just the peace of the past. If she closed her eyes, she could hear her mother’s laughter on the wind. The high sound of the wind in the trees could have been her father’s call for supper. She could sit here forever and remember.

  Nearly fifteen minutes passed before the door creaked open and Sarah stepped out onto the porch. Caught at a disadvantage with her friend towering over her, Hannah scrambled to her feet and smoothed her skirt.