by Karen Harper
The dinner and reception were as exciting as the ceremony had been solemn. The corner table for the newlyweds and their attendants was set with candles and two cakes for the wedding party—the three layers was okay, but no tiers allowed in bridal cakes by church rules, for that would be too worldly and fancy. During the meal, there was teasing and laughter, much getting and giving of small gifts; the larger ones such as money and items for their future home were on display in the guest bedroom upstairs.
Hannah was given a ballpoint pen with Joshua’s and Naomi’s names and their wedding date. She saved one of the napkins which said the same. While their guests laughed and cheered, some of the couple’s friends got up to present Naomi with a clothesline and mop, then a bridle for Josh someone suggested he get used to putting in his own mouth, on and on.
The first seating ate and chatted as nearly two hundred guests in three rooms devoured chicken, dressing, mashed potatoes and gravy, coleslaw, applesauce and creamed celery, a traditional wedding dish. Special yeast rolls with butter were distributed by the waiters, who were also friends of the bride and groom. Coffee, tea, pies and cakes came last. Hannah had wedged herself in between Ella and her sister Barbara, who was being courted by Gabe Kauffman, Sarah’s brother. Gabe sat on Barbara’s other side. The bride had worked hard to seat courting couples together, but Hannah noted Naomi had put neither Susan Zook nor Katie Weaver in shouting distance of Seth.
But Hannah made a mental note that, when she saw Sarah in two days for her little wedding, she’d have to remember to tell her Gabe was still Barbara Lantz’s come-calling friend. Sarah had been so hungry for any news of her family.
Hannah was somewhat surprised that Linc sat next to Seth, who had Marlena on his lap. She admired how he had managed to feed himself and her, yet listen to Linc. If that conversation was about people being “whacked” and “hit,” she thought, it was the strangest Amish wedding talk of all time.
“Remember how Sarah used to stuff herself with nothings at weddings?” Ella asked, referring to the lightly sugared, fried pastries that moderns called “elephant ears.” Nothings were stacked on plates at the end of each table. People usually just broke off a piece but Sarah used to snatch and hoard half a dozen of them.
Amid the hubbub and the laughter, Hannah and Ella stayed silent for a moment, remembering, before Hannah said, “I’ll take some and put them out for her reception Saturday.”
Hannah was just about to excuse herself and go out to check on the wedding wagon before the first seating was dismissed, when her older sister Ruth appeared over her shoulder and whispered, “Naomi would like for you to sing. The only thing is, Josh also asked Seth.”
The room seemed to spin, a blur of noise and movement. Hannah could feel Ella looking at her and Ruth’s steady stare. She glanced over at Seth and Linc. Seth hadn’t budged, either; he was staring at her with eyebrows lifted as if to say, Are you game? Linc, who had evidently overheard, lifted both hands, palms up, and bounced them once as if to say, Come on! I’d like to hear you sing.
“For Naomi, of course I will,” she told Ruth. “I’ll sing first and then Seth can, unless he insists on starting.”
While Seth handed Marlena to his mother, Hannah stood and stepped over the bench. This invitation to sing before her people was in her world what Linc had called “huge” in his. She’d jumped the fence to pursue a singing career. Back she had come, shamed and scared. What she’d done was considered to be prideful, although singing at a wedding—the newlyweds never sang themselves because it was bad luck—was encouraged and common.
She met Seth in the corner, behind the eck table. Josh turned around with a grin. “Guess you’d better sing fast so folks don’t think you have an announcement to make,” he kidded them, and returned to talking to his bride and sidesitters.
“Shall I go first?” Hannah asked Seth as they went off into the hallway to talk things over. “We can’t sing together, haven’t for years, and we don’t need any rumors.”
“True. There are enough of those winging around today about who was in the graves or who put them there, besides those about the Troyers’ financial troubles, today of all days.”
“What did you hear about that?”
He lowered his voice, though the noise level in the next room was high and no one could hear them here. “That Levi Troyer had some money out to other Amish businessmen that went bad and he’s over his head financially with a worldly bank—desperate for cash to prop things up. He’s actually talked to some of the reporters in town about doing articles about the mill—said he’ll be in them, pictures and all. He’s going to hire me to oversee the reconstruction crew for the mill, and I can’t turn that down—if he’s financially stable.”
“Better make sure you get paid some up front. But wait till Daad hears all that. Mr. Troyer will get a warning or worse if he shows his face in the papers or on TV. But what are we going to do?”
“About the singing or something else? Okay, you go first. We can’t just do a duet. But I’d like for us to—sing like the old days, I mean.”
“The old days are gone. You killed them, and I did, too.”
“Then we should try to make new ones.”
She didn’t know what to say. Her heart was thumping harder from that than from anything today. Seth was not so much as touching her and she yearned for his hands on her, his mouth covering hers.
They planned their songs, then she darted away, but he stayed by the door while she asked Josh to tap his cider glass for quiet and make an announcement. “My wife’s sister Hannah is going to sing, and after that, our own vorsinger, Seth Lantz.”
Hannah had been rehearsing several Englische songs for Sarah’s wedding, but she knew this audience would like one of them. Her voice rang out, almost shaky at first, but then in control and with conviction. The lyrics were from the Book of Ruth in the Bible with the chorus:
Whither thou goest, I will go.
Whither thou lodgest, I will lodge.
Thy people will be my people, my love,
And thy God, my God.
When she finished, everyone sat quiet, as if stunned. It wasn’t their way to applaud, anyway. Tears in her eyes, Hannah stepped back, then moved away as Seth sang two songs in German, one a hymn and one a rollicking song about a horse that pulled a buggy all the way home when the suitor fell asleep after visiting his beloved.
Just hearing Seth’s voice and recalling how he used to sing love songs for her alone shook Hannah to the core, more than her own song had. Afraid she’d be silly enough to cry, she slipped out into the kitchen and pushed past the volunteer cooks who had stopped preparing food for the second sitting to crowd in the doorway, in order to see as well as hear Seth. When he finished, Hannah ducked out on the back porch and sucked in a huge breath to steady herself.
She heard the door open, a man’s heavy footfalls on the porch boards behind her. He must have followed her out, but she couldn’t bear to face him right now. He’d see the need for him on her face, and she couldn’t just act like a coward.
From behind her, he put his hands on her shoulders. Trembling, she put her hands over his and—not Seth. Not Seth’s hands. She spun to face Linc.
“I’ve got to go, but I had no idea,” he said. “Your voice is fantastic—unique! You must have had some idiot for an agent. I know getting a foothold can be tough, but I can’t believe you couldn’t make a go of it. I swear to you, once I’ve solved this case, I’ll stake you to a new beginning and find you some contact that will get you a start. I know nothing about the music biz, but, for you, I’m going to find out!”
All afternoon, people said their thanks and goodbyes, especially the dairy farmers who had to go to milking. That evening, the Troyers provided the repast, starting with snacks of all kinds, then cold cuts of ham and beef with mounds of potato salad and cookies. Hannah saved some nothings to take to Sarah and gave herself a sugar and caffeine buzz eating chocolate chip whoopie pies.
You might know
, she thought, she got the piece of bride’s cake with the little wedding ring favor in it, the only piece of jewelry an Amish woman ever bought. Unfortunately, it meant the recipient would be the next to wed. When she saw its cheap golden gleam peering out from her piece of cake, she’d been tempted to just hide it, but Naomi would have had a fit, and it was her day.
Dusk was descending outside when Seth suddenly appeared at her shoulder with a sleeping Marlena in his arms. They stood in a corner of the kitchen, which was temporarily deserted while the cooks ate their bride’s cake in the dining room.
“I hope what I said about us making music together didn’t upset you,” he said.
“No, I— We have some good memories of that. So how’s it going with John Arrowroot?” she asked to shift the subject.
“I told Linc he admitted he’s been to the hill above the graveyard after dark at times, and he’s got blown-up photos of that area in his garage. I’d like to get into his house—farther than his back bathroom—but that’s risky if he’s guilty. You know, I do feel for his cause and understand it. Well, I’ve got to get my little angel home and in bed. Hannah, your song was beautiful. Are you singing it for Sarah’s wedding?”
“Yes, that and several others. Ray-Lynn Logan’s taking me.”
“Give Sarah a kiss for me and my best wishes for their happiness.”
“I will. She’ll be glad to hear that.”
“And you and Ray-Lynn be watchful if I don’t see you before then.” He studied her face, then stared at her lips, almost as if he would give her that kiss to pass on. But he didn’t. He moved away before turning back. “And thanks for loaning Marlena your doll. I’ll get it back to you soon. She sleeps with it, and it seems to help her bad dreams.”
“Then let her keep it for a while.”
“I think there’s an Englische song about ‘I’ll see you in my dreams.’”
“I’ve heard that one.”
His smile caressed her. Somehow it was as if he touched her all over. He put his hat on and went out into the darkening night.
16
THE NEXT MORNING, Hannah not only dusted and straightened things in the Plain and Fancy B and B common rooms but, one-handed, helped Amanda change beds upstairs. But she didn’t learn anything new from another close observation of Lily Freeman’s room, except that she hadn’t removed her makeup at night and had thoughtlessly smeared rouge or powder on her pillowcase. And the paper pile and laptop had disappeared from the desk.
All Hannah really learned about anyone was that Amanda was worried about her brother Harlan’s drinking and thought his wife, Clair, who was a hairdresser at the Hair Port in town, talked about it to too many people. Hannah kept her mouth closed on that because here was Amanda telling her about it.
“There are some around here,” Amanda muttered, “who just won’t want to store or buy their meat from a man who drinks. And what if he drives that new refrigerator truck of his around with a bottle of that rotgut stashed in it?”
“As long as he doesn’t hit something, I doubt if the sheriff has time right now to arrest someone for not passing a sobriety test,” Hannah said.
“Harlan’s a very hard worker and has done well for himself, especially lately,” Amanda went on. “But I told him things will go downhill fast if he doesn’t give up drinking. And I shouldn’t have said ‘rotgut,’ because he says he buys only the best Canadian or Scotch whiskey, as if that makes a difference, because booze is still booze!”
Rather than staying for lunch after her work was done today, Hannah excused herself and headed Nettie toward the Rod ’n’ Gun. She surprised herself with how excited she was to have her old buggy and horse back. It gave her a heady sense of freedom, despite the fact that her family and friends thought she shouldn’t be out on her own. But nothing had happened since that night in the maze, and Linc thought that was probably an attack on him, not her. Besides, there was safety in numbers, and other buggies were on the road. Some drivers or riders waved to her, though maybe they thought at first she was Naomi. However much the horses and buggies looked alike to outsiders, her people could identify them by their gait and appearance.
When she reined Nettie in on Elaine Carson’s property, Hannah heard a sudden, loud noise and hit the buggy floor. Gunfire! Nearby! Then she felt like an idiot and sat up fast, hoping no one had seen her. That was just the flapping of the big flag in the stiff wind, and besides, there was a shooting range out back.
She saw Lily’s red car was already here. Maybe, since she knew her room would be cleaned today, she’d taken her laptop and papers with her. A quick glance in the back and front seats showed nothing, but someone who’d been living in a big city must know to hide important things in the trunk, even around here.
As she went inside, Hannah had to buck herself up to stand her ground. The bang-bang-bang! of gunfire from the range out in back was barely muted by the rear wall and window.
She moved to the back window and watched Elaine work with Lily on the shooting range with their backs to her. Both wore large, black earmuffs. The range was built to avoid the wind and weather with separate booths that opened toward a variety of targets at varied distances, some strung on lines to be moved sideways. Only Lily was shooting, holding a pistol, stiff-armed, straight out with both hands. That reminded Hannah of Linc’s handgun. The loss of that had shaken him as much as getting hit on the head, but she’d notice him wearing another one, even yesterday. Why didn’t he just leave it in his car? Did he think he was going to have to arrest someone at an Amish wedding celebration or draw it in the graveyard when he rushed back to be with his BCI team of forensic specialists?
Suddenly, Elaine turned her head and saw Hannah. She gave a thumbs-up. Lily turned, too, and nodded, but went back to shooting—this time at the man-shaped target—while Elaine came out into the store.
“We’re about ready to take a break,” Elaine told her, now wearing the earmuffs around her neck. “Want some coffee?”
“Oh, sure. Thanks.”
“She’s going to work with a moving target after, so that will be new.”
“It’s all new to me.”
She thought at first that Lily might not want her here, but it just seemed that she was really intent on the shooting lessons. It was obvious, at least, as the three of them sat in Elaine’s small office—lots of photos of her life in the army there, too—that Lily was concerned about crime coming into the Home Valley.
“It’s just terrible what you had to go through, Hannah,” she said. “It’s what convinced me to learn to protect myself. I supposed I should have done this when I lived in Vegas, but I guess I still had a bit of the small-town girl in me then, like nothing bad could happen. Why, before I left the Home Valley you never so much as heard about someone smashing a pumpkin at Halloween! I hope the sheriff and Agent Armstrong are getting somewhere in their investigation. Even when I wine and dine the sheriff, he’s so closemouthed. But they surely don’t think it’s someone Amish or even from around here, do they?”
“They have to look at all possibilities, of course.”
“I know there are some unstable characters, like the Meyers brothers and that pro-Indian-rights guy—what’s his name, Elaine?”
“John Arrowroot. I’m for individual rights, but he’s really going overboard when he tries to claim our land for those long dead and gone. He’s sure as heck not gonna get my property!”
Though nothing Elaine had said was enough to put her on Linc’s list of suspects, at least Hannah had picked up on one thing from Lily to help Ray-Lynn. She’d been wining and dining Sheriff Freeman? But how and where? For sure, not in the restaurant he and Ray-Lynn co-owned. At his own—Lily’s old—house? Ray-Lynn would have what she called a conniption when Hannah told her what the woman had let slip.
“It’s nice that you and the sheriff are still friends,” Hannah told Lily. “I know it’s been tough for me, coming back after I left, to patch up some relationships.”
“Don’t I
wish! I swear, it must have been early menopause talking when I was so mean to Jack and took off. I should have had my head, not my rampant hormones, examined. But at least I’m back and making some new friends, like Elaine and Amanda—and you, too, Hannah. You’re welcome to come to my shooting lessons, and I hope your hand—and heart—heal fast.”
That insight and kindness softened that very heart toward Lily Freeman, Hannah realized, but she was still going to report in to Ray-Lynn.
Saturday morning, after dressing for Sarah’s wedding, Hannah tiptoed downstairs, surprised that Mamm wasn’t already bustling about in the kitchen. She was wearing the new emerald-green dress Naomi had made for her but would take her bonnet off inside and go bareheaded. The opposite of many worldly women, she had not dark, but blond roots, and she was starting to wish her bright red hair would grow out fast.
The house seemed extra quiet without Naomi here. As was tradition, she and Josh were spending some time at the Troyers’ before they would live here for a few days, then be off to visit other family and friends. It would be late summer before they moved into their own place, which Naomi said Mr. Troyer would hire Seth to build at the edge of the family’s holdings.
In two big shopping bags with handles, Hannah carried a wrapped box of Ella’s lavender products, the Kauffman quilt she’d also wrapped and a bakery box of nothings she’d saved from Naomi’s wedding. These gifts would mean so much to Sarah. Weddings, Hannah thought, Amish and English, here and there, but not hers. Maybe never hers.
She carried the bags out into the small pantry off the kitchen so they wouldn’t get in the way at breakfast—or upset her mother. She decided she’d have time to fix breakfast for her parents; she’d heard Daad go outside a while ago.
