by Marta Perry
Someone attracted her attention and she turned away, leaving Seth alone with Chloe.
He touched her arm. “You okay?”
“Yes.” She smiled. “You?”
“I might have been more tired sometime in my life, but I don’t remember it,” he said.
A car horn blared, drawing everyone’s attention. It was Dave Hartman, the emergency coordinator.
He made a sweeping gesture, signaling them to come closer. People began moving toward him, feet dragging.
“We got everyone out of this end of town,” he said, taking off his safety helmet to run a hand through wet gray hair. “Good work, folks. Police are putting up barricades to keep everyone out until it’s safe to get back in.”
“You got any guesses as to when that will be?” one of the men asked.
“Your idea is as good as mine.” Dave nodded to the lower end of town, covered now by swift-moving brown water. “We should get an update from county officials in an hour or so. From what I’ve heard so far, the river’s not even going to crest until late tomorrow, and they’re talking a record high.”
A low groan greeted the words. These people probably knew better than Seth did what that meant.
“We’ve done it before, we can do it again,” Hartman said. “Meantime, go home and get some sleep.”
“That’s if we still have a bed,” someone else said with black humor, and a rueful laugh ran through the crowd.
“Right.” Hartman put his helmet back on, the gesture weary. “There’s more to do, if you’re up to it after you rest. Report in either to the office on Main Street or to the temporary trailer on Market Street.” He raised his hand in what might almost have been a benediction. “Get some rest. You need it.”
The group dispersed slowly. Seth turned to Chloe. The way she was sagging, a slight breeze would knock her over.
“You heard the man. We need to crash.”
She looked at him blankly. “Where? My bed is underwater.”
A good question. Seth tried to force his sluggish brain to function. Susanna’s place was down in the flood zone, like Chloe’s.
Dave came over to them. “You folks have a place to stay?”
Chloe gestured helplessly at the water.
“Yeah, that’s what I figured. No problem. You can come home with me.”
“We can’t impose—” Chloe began, but he cut her off.
“Listen, there’s nothing my wife likes more than a houseful of people to take care of. She’s probably cooking breakfast for half the neighborhood right now. She’d be the first one to say you should stay with us.”
“We might get rooms at a motel,” Seth said, reluctant to move in on strangers.
“Either closed or full,” Dave said. “Come on. You can follow me.”
With a glance at him, Chloe nodded. “All right. Thank you. But I have to make sure my sister’s all right first.”
Dave nodded. “Okay, here’s my address.” He pulled a soggy card from an inside pocket. “I’ll call my wife and tell her to expect you. Don’t let us down now.”
Still cheerful, he tramped off.
“I’m sure Susanna is fine . . .” Seth began.
Chloe shook her head. “I have to see for myself.”
Well, he wouldn’t expect anything else. “Our cars are at Nate’s store,” he reminded her. “Someone there will know where she is. With Dora, I’d think.”
Chloe nodded, and they started plodding up the street side by side. They hadn’t gone more than half a block before an SUV pulled up next to them. The woman driving leaned across to the window.
“Hop in. I’ll take you where you need to go.”
Seth would have protested, but he suspected Chloe’s strength wasn’t going to hold up much longer. He nodded, and they climbed in the back. “Gaus’s store,” he said.
The woman nodded and pulled out. “There’s a cooler back there with juice and soda,” she said. “Help yourself.”
“Thanks.” Seth was too tired to ask who she was or where she was going with the drinks. He pulled out a couple of small bottles of orange juice and handed one to Chloe.
In a few minutes, the woman swung into the parking lot at the store. “Stay safe,” she said. Before they could even thank her, she’d driven off.
“Random acts of kindness,” Chloe said, and he nodded. They’d probably never know who the woman was, any more than the people they’d brought out of the flooded houses would know them. It didn’t matter.
The door to the storeroom was unlocked, and when Seth opened it, he found several people still at work, sorting supplies that were probably destined for the shelter. He hailed the nearest person—a vaguely familiar-looking Amish woman. He didn’t realize who she was until Chloe spoke.
“Dora, is Susanna still here?”
She shook her head, eyeing Chloe with a certain amount of wariness. “She’s at the shelter. She and my son took some foodstuffs over, and she stayed to help.”
“Is she all right?” Chloe’s voice wavered slightly.
Maybe Dora heard it because her look softened. “Most likely she thinks she’s better off busy than worrying.”
“I’m sorry. Your shop . . .”
“It will be as God wills.” The phrase of acceptance had always annoyed Seth when he was young, but it had begun to make a bit more sense.
“We’ll head over there, then,” he said.
Dora caught Chloe’s hand. “Tell her she’s to stay with me, ja? And you, as well, if you need a place.”
“That’s kind of you.” Chloe blinked at the unexpected offer. “I already have a place, but I’ll tell her. And I’ll try to get her to take a break.”
Dora nodded. “Maybe she’ll listen to you, ain’t so? She hasn’t listened to anyone else.”
“I don’t know about that, but I’ll try.” Chloe looked doubtful.
They went back out into the rain, but at least it was a gentle drizzle and not a downpour any longer. A small thing to be grateful for. “We can take my car.”
Chloe started to protest, but Seth kept talking as he steered her toward his vehicle. “There’s no point in trying to park two cars at the shelter. The lot’s bound to be crowded.”
“You don’t have to come.” Chloe’s mouth was set in a stubborn line.
“Maybe not, but I am. And once you’re sure Susanna is okay, you’re going to get some rest.”
“I’m fine.” But at least she made no more objections about letting him drive to the shelter.
“Sure you’re fine.” He slid into the driver’s seat and started the car. “That’s why you’re rubbing your shoulder and swaying on your feet.”
Caught in the act of massaging her shoulder, Chloe didn’t bother to argue. “Muscle strain, that’s all,” she said. “Putting down the river with Granddad was a little different from what we did last night.”
“I don’t know about you, but I’d just as soon not have to put in a night like that one again.”
“I suppose a lot of people are thinking that same thought,” she said. She pushed damp hair off her face. “I just realized—Lydia is probably worried sick about us. If only she had a phone—”
Chloe stopped herself. She tried to be sensitive to the Amish beliefs of her sisters, but he suspected she found it difficult at a time like this one.
“Once we’re settled, I’ll call my mamm’s phone shanty and leave a message. She’ll make sure Lydia knows what’s happening.”
“Good.” Chloe relaxed against the headrest with a sigh.
“Here we are.” He pulled into the parking lot. As he’d imagined, it was nearly full. He found a spot, and in a moment they were approaching the double front doors of the square brick building.
“This used to be the lodge hall of a fraternal organization.” He pulled the door open. “They were once big
in towns like Oyersburg, but most of the buildings have been put to other uses.”
Chloe didn’t seem to be listening, and he could hardly blame her. Besides, she’d been here for the Saturday market. He wasn’t leading a sightseeing trip, but he had the feeling that if he didn’t keep his mind busy, he’d fall asleep on his feet like a horse.
They emerged into a center hallway, and a hum of noise came from the big room to the left where most of the stalls had been set up for the market. Now one end contained cots, and the other long tables and chairs. Several children were sound asleep in their makeshift beds, but it looked as if most of the adults were too keyed up or too worried to sleep. They gathered in small groups, talking, or simply sat, staring into space. The scent of coffee and pancakes wafted from the far end of the room.
“The kitchen,” he said, touching Chloe’s arm. “That’s where Susanna will be, most likely.”
She nodded, and they worked their way through the crowd toward the kitchen, not talking. Seth studied Chloe, alert for any sign that exhaustion was overtaking her.
But she somehow kept putting one foot in front of the other. He’d seen Chloe in a lot of roles since they’d met—the serious scholar, the reluctant sister, the determined idealist. Tonight he’d seen her turn that stubborn determination of hers to a fierce need to help others no matter the cost to herself, and his admiration had increased with every hour that passed. Chloe might still struggle with her difficult heritage, but she knew how to set that aside to do the job in front of her.
His feelings had clarified a little during this long night. Admiration. Attraction. And something more? He didn’t know, but he wanted to find out.
Chloe pushed open the swinging door to the kitchen, with him right behind her. She stood for a moment, scanning the figures moving purposefully around the room.
“There.” He touched her arm. “By the stove.”
Susanna, an oversized white apron over her deep blue dress, stood at the mammoth gas range. She was flipping pancakes with a practiced hand while sausages sizzled in a cast iron fry pan.
The aroma hit Seth, making him dizzy. How long had it been since they’d eaten? Time had telescoped and stretched like a child’s rubber toy since he’d rushed toward Oyersburg to find Chloe.
“Susanna.” Chloe hurried toward her, narrowly missing a collision with a gray-haired man carrying a tray full of serving platters. “Are you okay?”
Susanna’s face blossomed into a smile when she saw Chloe. “Ja, for sure. What about you? When I heard you’d gone back down to the creek— Ach, you shouldn’t scare me so bad.”
Susanna was talking like a big sister, her tone loving and scolding all at once. Some of the fatigue seeped from Chloe’s face when she heard it.
“We had a busy night.” Her gesture included Seth. “Looks like you have, too.”
“There’s plenty to do, that’s certain-sure.” Susanna turned back to her pancakes, lifting them to a platter waiting warmed on the back of the stove. “What am I thinking? Do you want some breakfast? There’s plenty.”
“Sounds great,” Seth said before Chloe could speak. She might not think she needed food right now, but he knew better.
The woman working the next set of burners reached across to take the spatula from Susanna. “You go and eat with your friends, dear. And then you’d better get some rest.”
“I’m not tired,” Susanna said, but her drawn face gave the lie to the words. These sisters were a stubborn bunch, it seemed, Seth thought.
“Yes, you are.” The woman included them in her smile. “You all look like you need food and rest, so take it. We’ll want you able to work the next few days, not dead on your feet.” She waved them away with the spatula.
Seth ushered Chloe and Susanna away before they could argue, guiding them to a corner of the kitchen where some of the other volunteers were snatching a meal. “Sit.” He pushed them into chairs. “I’ll get the food.”
But another volunteer was there before he could move, setting laden plates in front of them. Someone else pushed a carafe of coffee toward him, but Seth shook his head. He’d had enough coffee during the night to last him.
The first bite of pancakes and sausage was bliss. He looked toward Chloe to be sure she was eating.
She wasn’t. She had her arms around Susanna, hugging her, and they both had tears in their eyes.
It seemed the emergency had broken through some part, at least, of the barrier between Chloe and her sister. Could he say the same about Chloe and himself? He didn’t know.
CHAPTER TEN
Susanna
struggled awake, coming vaguely to an awareness of something very much wrong. What . . . ?
Memory flooded back as she opened her eyes. She was lying in a double bed. The large, square room was sparsely furnished as was typical of an Amish house. A wooden chest of drawers, a row of pegs on the wall for clothing, a bookshelf. A rocking chair sat next to a small table by the window.
She stared at the window but could make nothing of the grayness beyond. It could be any time from dawn to dusk. How long had she been asleep?
Pushing back the double-wedding-ring quilt, Susanna slid her feet to the floor, her bare toes encountering a hooked rug. The white nightgown she wore fell around her in waves. Obviously it was one of Dora’s.
She pushed disheveled hair back from her face. She had a vague memory of Nate guiding her staggering steps up to the spare bedroom at some point, and embarrassment heated her cheeks. What must he think of her, unable even to walk upstairs by herself?
Hand on the bedside table for support, she stood, relieved to discover that her legs held her up. Her limp was bad enough, but she really hated it when someone saw her stumble, the invariable result when she’d taxed her body beyond its limits as she had in the past twenty-four hours.
A memory slid into her mind as if it had been jarred loose by the events of the past day. Herself at six or seven, curled up in her small bed, wrapping the pillow around her ears to shut out the sound of her parents’ voices in the next room.
“I’m chust saying maybe it’s better for Susanna to know the truth about herself from us.” Her father had sounded as if it took all his strength to hang on to his patience. “Then we don’t have to worry about her finding out by accident.”
“No!” Mamm’s voice had risen, frightening her. “I won’t have it.”
“But when she marries . . .”
“She won’t marry, you know that. She’s not like other girls.” Mamm’s voice had been strong and determined. “No one else wants her. But we do. She’s ours, and I won’t have you telling her otherwise.”
Susanna realized she was gripping the edge of the table so hard that her fingers hurt. She forced herself to release her grip, rubbing her hand automatically.
The memory must have been buried very deep. She certainly hadn’t thought of it in years, but now it might have happened yesterday. In light of what she knew now, it was clear that Daad had wanted to tell her the truth about her parentage.
Mamm had won that argument, obviously. If she’d ever known how her words would one day hurt Susanna, she’d never have spoken them.
No one else wants her.
Pushing the thought away, she moved to the rocking chair, where someone had laid out clothes for her to wear. Maybe Mamm had been right, at least about the not marrying part. But someone did want her—Dora, her sisters.
The memory replayed in her mind of those moments when she and Chloe had held each other close. Susanna wasn’t even sure who had initiated the hug, but it had seemed so right. It had been right. In that moment she had felt their relationship, deep in her bones. It was as if her heart and Chloe’s heart had called to each other in that moment. Whether she and Chloe and Lydia knew one another or not, they were sisters.
As for marrying—well, even without marriage, her life could be
fulfilling, as long as she had the shop. Fighting down a wave of panic, she pulled the nightgown off over her head. Get dressed, that was the first thing. And then find someone who could tell her what had happened to the shop.
Dressing quickly, Susanna realized that the soft blue dress must belong to one of Nate’s sisters. It fit fairly well except that it hung a bit long on her. She found the straight pins to fasten the front of the dress lying on the table and slipped them in place with the ease of long practice. The shoes were her own, obviously cleaned and dried to be ready for her.
Now for her hair, and then she could go. She brushed it out, tackling the tangles with energy. Normally she’d have put her hair in a single thick braid before climbing into bed, but she’d probably fallen asleep before she could start.
A knock at the door told her Dora must have heard her steps and known she was awake. “I’m awake—” She swung the door open, losing her words when she saw that it was Nate, not Dora.
“I . . . I thought it was your mamm.” She knew her cheeks were pink at facing Nate fresh from bed with her hair hanging halfway down her back.
“She wanted me to tell you to come and have something to eat.” If Nate was embarrassed as well, he hid it better. “Don’t hurry. Mamm just always wants to feed people.”
“I know. Denke, Nate.” Gathering her scrambled thoughts, she began to ask him about the shop, but he was already starting down the stairs.
Closing the door, Susanna hurried with her hair. She wrapped it into a bun, securing it with hairpins, and setting the prayer covering in place. This one looked new, and she guessed either Dora or one of her daughters might have made it but not worn it yet. Giving it to her was a kind gesture.
As she went out of the room, she spared a thought for her own things, many of them maybe underwater by now. She had little that couldn’t be replaced, but Daad’s family Bible and the quilts her mamm had made would be a loss. Still, her apartment sat a bit higher than the shop. Maybe those things she treasured would be spared. If not . . . many folks were losing far more than that, she feared.
Taking a quick look around the upstairs, she gripped the banister. Five bedrooms, it seemed. Nate had probably hoped to fill them with kinder.
