Sisters of the Quilt Trilogy

by Cindy Woodsmall

  “See, neither me nor Hannah meant to cau—”

  Elle rose and placed her fingers over his mouth. “I don’t want to hear about her.” She whispered the words as her fingertips slid across his lips. Her warm hands moved to his cheeks, and she gently pulled him to her until their lips were a mere inch apart. “I was hoping …”

  Matthew clasped his hand around the back of her head, feeling the lump of her hair bun under her prayer Kapp. An image of her without her Kapp, her strawberry blond hair flowing over her shoulders, flashed in his mind’s eye. Of course, for him to see her like that they’d have to be behind locked doors and have taken their marriage vows.

  He closed the gap between them until her soft lips brushed against his.

  The sound of children approaching made Elle dart from his arms and retreat behind her desk before he had time to react. The door to the schoolhouse flung open, and several children scurried in, chatting feverishly.

  Elle ran a finger over her lips. “Yep, that’s what I was hoping for.” She turned to the children and motioned to the pegs on the back wall. “Please put your coats on the pegs and lunches near the stove, and take your seats.”

  Matthew chuckled. She went from sounding like his future wife to a schoolteacher as fast as the speed of that opening door.

  Aching for another kiss, he moved to the opposite side of her desk and behaved like a visiting adult should, but it wasn’t easy. “How about if you have the driver bring you by the shop after school? I’ll see to it you either get home later or can stay at the Bylers’.”

  She picked up her teacher’s attendance book, avoiding looking at him. “Okay. I’ll bring David and Peter with me.”

  He turned to leave.

  “And Matthew?”

  He wheeled around, hoping to see a warm smile, but she was still fiddling with things on her desk.

  “The girl we’re not talking about—she left me a letter. It sounds like there was something you haven’t told me.” She lifted both eyebrows, waiting on him to answer.

  He gave a slight nod. “We’ll cover everything tonight.”

  With the bacon frying, coffee perking on the stove, and a huge batch of sticky buns in the oven, Sarah glanced at the kitchen doorway and whispered, “Mamm?”

  “Hmm?”

  Although she had responded, Sarah knew her mother hadn’t fully come out of that faraway world she lived in lately. Mamm had called Sarah to her bedroom last night, shut the door, and explained things about how a woman conceived and what had taken place that caused Hannah to become pregnant. Her mother’s voice had been but a whisper as tears trailed down her face through the explanation. Then she’d dismissed her daughter without answering the one question that tormented Sarah.

  “Mamm.” She said the word more firmly, hoping her mother would break free long enough to talk to her.

  “What?”

  “Do you really think Hannah’s baby died?”

  Moving eggs from the basket to a small container, Mamm answered, “Yes.” She opened the refrigerator and set the eggs in it.

  Dread so thick it seemed to be suffocating her wrapped around Sarah. As much as she’d hated her sister, it was too horrid to think she’d given birth to a child who hadn’t survived. That couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t.

  It was your own words, Sarah Lapp, that turned Daed and the bishop against your sister.

  She rubbed her temples, trying to clear her head. “But how do you know? I mean, couldn’t she have taken the baby with her?”

  Her mother faced her. “I know it’s a nightmare, Sarah, but it’s all true.”

  Thoughts tripped one way and then stumbled another, all leading her where she just couldn’t accept the story the Eshes had told them yesterday.

  Why, Sarah had seen how that oldest sister of hers had everyone jumping through hoops and doing her chores while she lay around pretending to be sick. With Sarah’s own eyes she saw Hannah climb into a buggy with some man, going off for a joyride at midnight in her nightgown!

  Sarah turned the bacon over in the skillet, trying to keep the hot grease from spattering. If Hannah was so sneaky as to use Mrs. Waddell’s place to meet her beau and had sent and received letters for years without anyone in her family knowing, what else was she capable of? Maybe she’d never boarded that train. Was she hiding out right here in Owl’s Perch with her baby?

  “Just how trusting are we supposed to be?” Sarah mumbled under her breath.

  “Did you say something?” her mother asked.

  “Are you sure she buried the … I mean, did you see the baby before …”

  Mamm shook her head. “We saw the casket that Matthew made being lowered into the ground.” Mamm sat in a chair, looking too tired to remain on her feet. “Just as well, I suppose.”

  “Do you think Naomi saw the baby?”

  “I imagine. I know this is hard to accept, Sarah, but—”

  “Can I go see Naomi after breakfast?”

  “You’ve got chores. Just because you’re done with your schooling days—”

  “Please?” Sarah interrupted her. “I just need to see her.”

  The back door opened, and Sarah heard the menfolk stomping around as they pulled off their work boots.

  “Okay, after breakfast you can slip out,” Mamm whispered. “But be back before Esther and Samuel are home from school.”

  Sarah knocked on the Eshes’ door and waited. A moment later the door popped open.

  Naomi’s eyes widened at the sight of her. “Why, Sarah Lapp, what are you doing here with everything your Mamm’s going through?”

  “I brought you some sticky buns.”

  Naomi accepted the plate from Sarah and walked toward her kitchen. “My guess is you’ve got more on your mind than sharing food.”

  Sarah shut the door, peeled out of her cloak, and followed her. If anyone would give her straight answers, it’d be Naomi. Why, she’d been awful outspoken with Daed yesterday. Sarah bet she was aching to spill all she knew.

  Naomi set the plate on the counter. “Take a seat, and tell me what’s on your mind.”

  Laying her winter cape beside her, Sarah climbed onto a tall, swivel-backed counter stool. “I was hoping to understand a little more about what happened with Hannah.”

  “I really don’t think we should talk about that. Your sister had a baby out of wedlock. How your parents want to address that with you children is up to them.”

  Outspoken indeed.

  “Did you see the baby that night?”

  “Yes. She was a tiny thing.”

  A pitiful noise, like a baby crying, came from somewhere outside the house. The sound made Sarah’s insides jolt, but Naomi didn’t respond a bit to the cries.

  The awful sound repeated with no reaction from Naomi. Was she just pretending not to hear it? Was she hiding the baby?

  Realizing Naomi wasn’t going to tell her anything and ready to search for what was making this noise, Sarah rose. “I was hoping you’d say something that could help me understand.”

  Naomi straightened her pinafore. “I’d like to know some things too, like where she was heading when she boarded that train.”

  Wrapping her cloak around her, Sarah asked, “Did you see her get on the train?”

  “Oh, honey, I sure did. You don’t need to worry about that. She got on that train safe and sound with her tickets in hand.”

  Sarah nodded. So Hannah did leave Owl’s Perch. That actually brought Sarah a measure of relief, although she couldn’t figure out why. She excused herself and slipped out the door and listened for the sound. It was coming from Matthew’s shop.

  Hoping Naomi didn’t look out her window, Sarah scampered across the yard to the shop. After looking everywhere on the first floor, she climbed the ladder to the storage loft. She looked behind every crate for signs that someone was hiding Hannah’s baby. She found none. But it had to be alive somewhere.

  When the front door swooshed open, Sarah jumped.

  A
moment later it closed. She tiptoed in the direction of the ladder, cringing with every moan the wooden floorboards made.

  “Hello?” Matthew called.

  No way around it, she was caught. With her heartbeat going wild, she hollered down, “Hi, Matthew.” Her voice sounded guilty, even to her. Navigating each rung of the ladder carefully, she made her way to the ground floor.

  “I saw Old Bess hitched to a buggy out front. I figured it’d be you that came over here, but I guessed you were in the house.”

  Shaking the dust from her dress, Sarah refused to look at him. “I was. I brought your family some sticky buns, but then I came out here to see you.”

  “In the attic?” he scoffed. “What are ya really lookin’ for, Sarah? Peace?”

  “That’s ridiculous. I’m not the one who’s done anything wrong.”

  Folding his arms across his chest, Matthew rocked back. “Ah, now I see how you’re living with yourself.”

  She brushed dust off her black cloak. “Well, aren’t you just cheeky and rude when you’re by yourself?”

  “Sticking with Hannah’s wishes, I ain’t told anyone what I know. But don’t let that piece of information make you think it’ll stay that way.”

  “What’re you trying to say?”

  “Your sister was better to you than anyone. You can mark my words on that. She saw you for what you are and loved you anyway—until you ruined her whole life.”

  His words stung something horrid, but she wasn’t about to let him know that. “And to think I held you in such high esteem. It’s clear enough that Hannah has cast her spell over you just like she did my Jacob.”

  “It ain’t like that between me and Hannah. But I’d like to know one thing from you, and then maybe I won’t tell your secret.”

  The shrieking cry filled the room. Sarah jumped, a gray eeriness settling over her. “What was that?”

  Matthew rolled his eyes. “A tomcat killed all the mama cat’s babes. She ain’t quit hollering over it yet.”

  Sarah swallowed hard. A mama cat?

  The baby’s not dead. It’s not.

  An image of a tiny coffin lying in a grave with dark soil being tossed onto it flashed through her mind. She sucked in air and scrunched her eyes closed, trying to free herself of the sickening thought.

  “You okay?”

  “Of course,” she snapped. “I need to go.”

  “Not before you’ve answered my question.”

  “What?”

  Matthew leaned against the planked wall, blocking her exit. “I’m not going to ask why you told everyone about Hannah going out for a late night ride. It happened. You told—out of jealousy is my guess. But why did you lie about how long she was gone?”

  “I’m not jealous!” she fumed.

  “Answer the question.”

  “I didn’t lie.” She just wasn’t sure, that was all. Most of her life she’d lost track of time easily. Had she lost track that night?

  “Wrong answer.”

  “Well, if you’re so smart, how long was she gone?”

  “Less than five minutes, and we never left sight of the house, just like she said.”

  Sarah drew back “We? You were with her? That can’t be. I saw her in a tourist buggy with a horse I ain’t never seen before.”

  “Look around you, Sarah. Part of what I do is take old buggies and refinish them, some of them for touristy places. I go to the racetrack and buy horses and train them, sometimes for those same places.”

  The screaming returned, banging against her temples and shrieking at her. “But—”

  “There are no buts. I’ll put my hand on the Bible and say how long we were gone that night. Will you stick by your story that well?”

  Beads of sweat rolled down her back, and suddenly the door loomed in front of her. Pushing it open, she gulped cold air and ran to her buggy. Shaking like a leaf, she flicked the reins and started toward home. As the horse lumbered onward, guilt inched into her thoughts, feuding with the fear of what would happen when the community found out she’d been wrong.

  Her thoughts suddenly became dull and confused, as if a tornado had deadened a path through her mind.

  Matthew met Elle at the car and took the books from her hands as she got out. Peter and David wasted no time heading inside the house—for food, he was quite sure.

  “Come on.” Matthew led her into the privacy of his repair shop. Once they were sitting on the couch, he drew a deep breath and told the whole story of his and Hannah’s buggy ride, how she came to stay at his repair shop overnight, and why he’d kept secrets for Hannah.

  Elle rose. “That buggy ride everyone talked about … It was you she was with?” She gaped at him in disbelief.

  “The rumors are lies. We weren’t gone no thirty minutes. I bet it wasn’t even five.”

  “Every time I think things are straight between us, something else concerning Hannah comes up.” She rolled her eyes. “If it’s all so innocent, why keep it a secret from me?”

  “Hannah asked me to, and I was afraid you wouldn’t believe me.”

  “And keeping secrets was your way to win my trust?”

  Matthew stood. “See, Hannah and—”

  She rose on her tiptoes and pushed her finger against his chest. “If you don’t quit talking about Hannah, I’m going to scream.”

  “You are screaming.”

  She narrowed her eyes and growled at him. “Make the point, Matthew—without Hannah’s name being mentioned—before I show you just how loud I can scream.”

  “Elle, none of the rumors are true. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

  She propped her hands on her hips. “It’s just all so infuriating. I want to believe you. You know I do.”

  Matthew inched closer, fearing she’d step farther away, but she didn’t. “Elle, there was a time when I thought maybe I’d enjoy taking Hannah home from singings. It was just a thought, no real emotions or desires attached to it. Then I met you.”

  “So I have two choices: believe you and maybe play the fool for life, or believe the rumors and go find someone else.”

  “For life?” Matthew smiled.

  “Oh shut up.” She stormed off to the far side of the room.

  “You know, you’re a mite easier to get along with in the morning than in the afternoon.”

  A short burst of laughter escaped her. Matthew had the sneaking suspicion he’d hit on a truth about her that she already knew. He crossed the room and pulled her into his arms.

  “We’re not finished arguing.” She pushed against him, but he didn’t let go.

  He ran his finger over her lips. “Could we take a break and return to arguing later?”

  Expecting a snippy remark, Matthew was caught off guard when she slowly kissed his finger.

  He lifted her chin and kissed her the way he wished he’d had time to do that morning. “Marry me, Elle,” Matthew mumbled between kisses.

  Someone banged on the door, making them both jump. A moment later the door swung open.

  “Dad,” Elle whispered.

  Deep darkness became a reddish black as Hannah tried to open her eyes. Papers were rustling somewhere close by.

  “Can you hear me?”

  A machine near her head made little bleeps faster and faster.

  “It’s okay. Stay calm. You’re in Alliance Community Hospital.”

  A wave of nausea ran through her. She couldn’t be in the hospital. How would she pay? They would find her, and her father would come. Her eyes refused to open. The dark world tugged at her, and she struggled to stay awake. She tried lifting her arms, but they barely budged.

  She forced enough air into her lungs so she could speak. “I won’t go back. I won’t.”

  Plastic wrap crinkled right beside her. “Well, I don’t know where ‘back’ is, but if you’re angry with somebody at home, you just might change your mind when you realize how close you came to not surviving.”

  She heard water being poured. Lickin
g her dry lips, she commanded her eyes to open. They didn’t obey.

  “Good thing for you that your body started responding positively. You gave us a scare for nearly twenty-four hours. Then your vitals improved, letting us know you would survive. That took place around this time yesterday.” A straw touched her lips. “Take a drink.”

  Sipping the cool water, Hannah began to come out of that dark place. She pulled away from the straw, scrunched her eyes, and managed to lift her eyelids for a moment.

  Standing over her was the doctor from the last clinic that wouldn’t hire her. Fragmented thoughts sprang to her mind, too disconnected to make sense.

  The straw pressed against her lips again. She drew cool water into her mouth, feeling more clarity with each swallow. She tried shifting in the bed. Parts of her body were working now—her arms, shoulders, and legs. But with her torso feeling like dead weight and the soreness across her lower body, she couldn’t move. “You may not remember, but I’m Dr. Lehman. How are you feeling?”

  Forcing the correct response, Hannah whispered, “Okay. The girl … at the clinic, how is she?”

  “She made a complete recovery and went home yesterday. You, on the other hand, are still quite sick. You’re in ICU. You had what’s called a retained placenta. Our best guess is that when that boy kicked against you, the pool of internal blood broke loose from its clot. It was merciful timing to happen near the clinic, that’s for sure. The surgeon did what he could to repair your uterus. Until yesterday you were on a ventilator. You were given a ten-pack of platelets and a unit of fresh frozen plasma. Now that may not mean a whole lot to you, but trust me, you should read up on it and thank your lucky stars you survived.”

  Embarrassed that an entire surgical team knew her secret, Hannah closed her eyes. She didn’t want to know what they’d done. The only question she wanted answered was how she would pay for this.