Sisters of the Quilt

by Cindy Woodsmall

  Matthew Esh. The name dug its way past his anger at Hannah’s accusers. Was there something to all these rumors? Dorcas had said Matthew’s name a dozen times in all the gossip. But surely the community wouldn’t be angry with her and write letters of correction if being alone with Matthew was the only “misdeed” she was accused of. They wouldn’t hold it against her to this degree even if she did stay out all night with him … or was it Jacob Yoder that she was supposed to have stayed out all night with? She might get some mean-looking frowns, even a few murmurs or cold shoulders, but not letters and the community wagging their tongues freely about her. Something more than Matthew … or Jacob … was going on.

  Was it possible she’d gotten caught up in a relationship with that English guy at the hospital that Dorcas mentioned? The rumors said she had, and she’d acted weird the night he’d showed up.

  “That’s ridiculous!” Paul railed against himself, smacking the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. “Are you going to join in and accuse her?”

  The rumors were based on lies. He had no doubts about his Hannah. The truck jolted as he hit a pothole.

  Well, okay, he had a few doubts. He’d witnessed firsthand how friendly Hannah was with Matthew. No big surprise that half the rumors involved him. The other half involved some nameless English person and that doctor Hannah quoted from time to time. One or two of the rumors had Jacob Yoder’s name attached to them. Dorcas said Jacob was one of Mary’s brothers. Heat ran through his body.

  She wasn’t guilty. No way. He knew her. She was simply naive and didn’t always think about how things might look.

  Dorcas had told him that, according to her mother’s cousin, Hannah was still living at the Yoders’ Daadi Haus with Mary. He intended to knock on the door and insist he be allowed to talk to Hannah. He had to make sure she was okay.

  She might even be willing to leave Owl’s Perch and go with him. She would turn eighteen in a little over two weeks. They could hide out somewhere until then if need be.

  If she wanted out, he’d get her out.

  The letter Dorcas had shown him, which was a duplicate of one sent to Hannah, had quoted Scripture about dressing modestly and being honest. He growled. Ridiculous hyperbole. Hannah was no more capable of sneaking out to be with a man in her undergarments than Paul was of flying.

  Let’s see them send those letters when they don’t know where you live, Hannah.

  As Paul pulled into the Yoders’ driveway, he noticed there were no lights on in the house. He drove farther into the driveway, stopping in front of the Daadi Haus. He saw a light on in the living room. Maybe Hannah and Mary were still awake.

  Paul knocked on the door. He didn’t care if the whole neighborhood heard him. He was tired of sneaking around as if he and Hannah were sinners.

  A girl with greenish blue eyes and blond hair covered by a white prayer Kapp came to the door dressed in a flannel gown and housecoat. He assumed it was Mary, though he’d never met her, since she’d been asleep the day he came to her house for a visit with Hannah. “Mary?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “I’m Paul Waddell. I need to speak to Hannah. Is she here?”

  She nodded and opened the door. “Hannah went to bed with complaints of aches. She’s asleep now, and I’d hate to wake her.”

  Physical pains brought on by the emotional weight of the rumors, Paul figured. “I’m not leaving until I speak with her, even if every member of this district learns that I’m here.”

  Mary tilted her head, considering his words. Finally a smile crossed her face. “I suppose I’ll be the one in pain if I don’t wake her. I’ll be right back.”

  Paul paced, much as he’d done when he’d come to visit her in November. She’d been out that day, and by her own admission she’d been with Matthew.

  Hannah came to the living room door, her long hair loosely pulled into a bun with wisps breaking free everywhere. She had a shawl wrapped over her day clothes, but she didn’t have her Kapp on. She looked a bit addled, as if she’d been sound asleep.

  Paul bolted to her, clasping his hands over hers. “Are you all right? I heard …”

  She stared at him, but she didn’t ask why he was here or suggest he hide his truck. He rubbed his head, feeling confused.

  Mary came up behind Hannah and whispered something in her ear in Pennsylvania Dutch. She held Hannah’s head covering out to her.

  “Ich kann net.” Hannah shook her head, refusing to take it.

  Paul would have found Hannah’s refusal to wear her prayer Kapp disturbing enough even without any rumors flying on the winds. Doubts concerning her began nibbling at him. All the women from his sect of Mennonites wore Kapps. Where was her submission to the ways they’d agreed on as right?

  As he tried to decipher what the two were whispering about, he’d never felt so out of place. Mary said something about calling for a doctor. Hannah reacted angrily. Did Mary need a doctor? Surely Mary didn’t think Hannah needed one just because she’d gone to bed achy.

  Mary grabbed Hannah’s coat and helped her put it on, still whispering. “Grossmammi iss do. Du kannscht net im Haus schwetze.”

  “Ya, gut.” Hannah nodded.

  Yes and good—that he understood.

  Hannah fastened her coat. “Mary’s grandmother has moved back into her bedroom upstairs. We need to find a quiet place outside to talk.”

  Without a word, Paul followed her out the door, up the hill, and past the barn. When they came to a huge oak, she stopped.

  She played with the bark of the tree, barely turning to look at him. “I didn’t expect to see you until May.”

  “Dorcas came to see me. She said you’re being treated poorly, almost being shunned among your people. I came to see if you’re okay.”

  Looking wearier than he could ever have imagined, she shrugged. “There are rumors and displeasure among the People. But any mention of shunning is absurd. That’s not done lightly and never to an unbaptized member. There’s some pressure, but I’m fine.”

  She didn’t look fine. She looked miserable. Whatever else was going on, she didn’t seem the least bit glad to see him. “Have we made a mistake, Hannah?”

  She turned, mumbling something in Pennsylvania Dutch. Then she seemed to realize her lapse and repeated her words. “If you don’t know, I can’t tell you.”

  He studied her. She’d changed. In a thousand ways he couldn’t even define. “Tell me what’s going on, Hannah. I’m always gone, always trying to build a life for us. I don’t understand what’s happening.”

  She stepped away from him. “When you graduate, will you still want me?”

  He jammed his hands into his pockets, feeling the letter in one and his paycheck in the other. “Yes, absolutely.”

  Clearing her throat, she lifted her chin and nodded. “Then I’ll be here.”

  Paul clutched the letter in his hand, pulling it from his pocket. “But, Hannah, where have all these rumors come from? What’s going on?”

  She glanced at the paper in his hands, but she didn’t ask about it. “I’m tired. That’s all.”

  He stepped closer to her, trying to look her in the eye. “That answer doesn’t address my question about the rumors. Were you out for a ride in your nightgown with some guy?”

  She returned to playing with the bark on the tree. “I want to answer you, Paul, but you’ve got to hear me out. Okay?”

  He shoved the letter back into his pocket. “All right.”

  She spoke without looking up from her fascination with the tree bark. “Almost every rumor you’ve heard has a piece of truth in it.”

  Doubts and questions came in on all sides. “Go on.” He moved in closer until he was directly behind her as she faced the tree.

  Hannah sidestepped, moving out into the open. “I did go for a ride in my nightgown. It was the night of Luke and Mary’s accident. My family had gone to bed. I hadn’t felt well for weeks and was restless. Luke and I had argued earlier that day. I wanted
to talk to him as soon as he got home. So I waited on the porch in my gown. Matthew drove up with a new horse and buggy. When he offered me a ride, I took it. We were only gone for a few minutes.”

  Matthew Esh again. Paul simmered quietly.

  She brushed wisps of curly hair from her face. “I’ve paid dearly for those five minutes, Paul.”

  “And is Matthew paying too?”

  She shrugged. “As far as I know, we’ve kept his name out of that particular rumor mill.”

  Paul propped one hand against the tree and kicked at a patch of snow.

  “And the gossip about you and that doctor?”

  Paul listened as she explained rumor after rumor. He was disappointed in his bride-to-be. She should have handled herself more carefully than to have been in the hayloft with Matthew. To Paul, the fact that the bishop caught them was beside the point. And there was no way she could justify staying out all night just because she was upset. The thing with the doctor didn’t seem as inappropriate as the other issues. But the longer he listened, the angrier he became. Her carefully worded explanations were beginning to sound like fabricated stories.

  The night he went to the hospital, he’d heard Matthew mockingly call her a liar, teasing her that he knew her better than anyone and that she lied really well but not well enough to trick him. Was she really a liar? According to what Dorcas said, even the church leaders thought she was being deceptive.

  Had he allowed himself to be blind, like Jack? Paul was only in Owl’s Perch sporadically, and even then he was confined to his world, waiting on her to come to him. Matthew had been with her the day Paul came to visit. Later that night Matthew had called her name, searching for her while she was secretly in Paul’s arms. Matthew had warmed the bricks for Hannah’s trip to Gram’s, but he had no way of knowing Paul was waiting for her at the other end.

  “You spent an entire night alone in Matthew’s repair shop. And when you were found, Jacob Yoder was with you. But it’s all perfectly innocent?”

  “I fell asleep. When I woke up, Jacob had come into the shop looking for me.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I’m telling you the truth, Paul.”

  Her crying addled him. “Okay, okay. But answer me this. Every piece of this puzzle is attached to one common thread.” He paused, pity for her beginning to drain from him as indignation stirred. How many times had Melanie cried her way back into Jack’s heart? “The common thread is you being too sick or too upset to go home. I understand why you were concerned about Luke not coming home the night of the accident. But why were you so upset that you ran to Matthew’s repair shop? And what caused you to be so sick after I left that they burned your clothes and Sarah had to take your place at Gram’s?”

  She lowered her head. “You know enough about that day, Paul. There was the car … and …”

  He grabbed her arm. “Hannah, what is it you’re not telling me?”

  She jerked against his hold. Determined to look into her eyes and finally understand, he pulled her toward him.

  A firm, round belly pressed against him.

  “No!” She placed a hand on his chest and pushed him away.

  He held tight to her wrist, staring at her. As if in slow motion, he splayed his free hand and laid it on her stomach. It was as round and firm as if it held a basketball … or a baby.

  His precious Hannah was pregnant.

  Dear God, what a fool I’ve been.

  A thousand thoughts ran through his mind within a few seconds. No wonder she’d been so evasive with him. She was carrying Matthew Esh’s baby! Nothing but friends, indeed. But apparently he didn’t want her and their child because Hannah had asked if he would still want her after graduation. Did she really expect him to raise another man’s child as his own?

  Great, racking sobs shook her body as she tried to pry his fingers off her stomach. “Paul, I-I can explain. I …”

  He grabbed her by the shoulders. “You always have an explanation. Always! And I’ve always been fool enough to believe you. No more, Hannah. No more!” Pulling his keys from his pocket, he ran down the hill.

  “Paul!” Her scream was haunting, but he refused to look back. “Paul, please! The unmentionable happened. Please don’t leave me!”

  He jumped in his truck and started the engine as her last words rang in his ears. “The unmentionable” meant either adultery or unmarried sex. How in the world could he forgive her?

  He glanced up the hill. Hannah was on her knees, rocking back and forth and screaming for him to listen to her. Tears blurred his vision. He’d been such a fool. He threw the truck in reverse, with no intention of ever laying eyes on her again.

  Barely aware of her surroundings, Hannah watched Paul back into the road, squealing his tires as he sped off. He was gone. It was over. The only thing she’d wanted out of life had just left, hating her. The cold, wet ground seeped through her clothing, making her shiver. The sobs jolting her body tore through the silence of the damp night air.

  A pair of gentle hands covered Hannah’s shoulders, helping her rise to her feet. “Sh, Liewi. It’ll be okay. It’ll all be okay.” Mary steadied her as they walked back toward the Daadi Haus.

  Human silhouettes formed in the driveway as Mary and Hannah made their way down the hill. Through her blurred vision, Hannah saw Mary’s parents and two of her brothers. She had no idea how much they’d seen or heard. But what did it matter now? Paul knew the truth, and he’d made his choice. He thought she was a liar, and he’d left her. She knew he would never return.

  A cool cloth pressed against Hannah’s brow. She stirred, wondering how long she’d slept once she could weep no longer. Her pain had poured out as she huddled in the bed like a child, crying for hours. Each time she roused for a few moments, Mary had whispered reassuring words to her.

  Drawing a deep breath, Hannah pulled her aching body to a sitting position. She hurt all over: her back, thighs, head, and across her stomach. Leaning back, Hannah rested against the headboard, waiting for some of the pains to subside. Her eyes closed; she took a few deep breaths. “What’s the time?”

  “It’s ten in the morning.”

  The baby shifted. On impulse, Hannah reached for Mary’s hand and placed it on her stomach.

  Mary gasped. “That’s so amazing.”

  Hannah hadn’t ever thought so before, but maybe Mary was right. She opened her eyes and realized she still had on her day clothes from yesterday. The skirts were covered in mud, and to her horror she remembered kneeling on the ground begging Paul not to leave her. She groaned. A lot of good her begging had done.

  Mary shifted her hand as the baby moved, following the slow, easy motion across Hannah’s belly. “It’s a Bobbeli, Hannah. A real Bobbeli.”

  It kicked and Mary jumped. She laughed, but Hannah couldn’t find any humor in the incident. It was a real baby, all right. One that belonged to a creep.

  Mary placed the cloth from Hannah’s brow in the bowl and walked to the dresser, where she set the basin down.

  Hannah put her feet on the floor, rubbing her rounded, aching sides.

  “I’ll do the laundry; you rest.” Picking up Hannah’s pair of mud-caked stockings, Mary gave an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “Mamm set the tub of dirty clothes on the back porch. But my aunt gave birth to her twins during the night. My whole family left for Ohio before sunrise, and they’ll be gone for the week to help my aunt with her young brood and the newborns. They left us a key to the phone shanty, saying they’d be calling some here and there.” Mary dunked the stockings into the bowl of water, dipping them up and down.

  Twins. The word conjured up images of Hannah’s aunt who had been shunned. It was hard to imagine what Zabeth’s life must be like after all these years without any family around her. Hannah wondered if Zabeth regretted doing whatever it was she did that caused her to be put under the ban.

  Hannah dismissed those thoughts and gazed at Mary. “It’s not laundry day, is it?”

  “No, but we didn’t do laundry Mond
ay. We talked and cried.”

  Hannah supposed it was a good thing she’d told Mary everything a few days ago, or last night would have been even worse, if that were possible.

  She rose. The room spun, and she grabbed the headboard to steady herself. “I need to take a shower.”

  Mary came to her. When Hannah turned around, Mary untied and unpinned her pinafore. “I don’t think my family heard much of anything last night. If they had, they wouldn’t have kept their plans and gone to visit my aunt. Daed said something about us not milling about the property at night while they’re gone.”

  “It doesn’t matter what they heard, not anymore.” But Hannah knew it did. In a world where conforming was paramount, her parents could pay a high price for Hannah’s defiance of the Old Ways. If the bishop decided she had to do things a certain way, and she refused, he could do little to her. But his power over her parents was another matter. They wouldn’t be shunned, but they’d be ostracized, however politely.

  “Pacifists,” Hannah mumbled. “Passive aggressive is more accurate.”

  Brushing wisps of hair off Hannah’s neck, Mary whispered, “My family didn’t come outside until they heard Paul’s tires squeal.”

  It took a few moments for Mary’s words to sink in. Hannah slid her apron off and faced Mary. “Then they don’t know about …” She touched her protruding stomach.

  Mary laid her hand on Hannah’s belly. “They don’t know.” Mary’s warm, gentle hand caressed Hannah’s stomach, and her face crumpled with sympathy. “We could surround the little thing with love, no?”

  As Mary spoke the words, the infant fluttered in a new way, as if it had been waiting to hear a caring word, causing Hannah’s soul to stir with an inkling of an emotion that had never been a part of her before. Hannah felt sorry for the tiny being. It seemed so desperate to be loved.

  As she headed for the shower, Hannah noticed their half-sewn “Past and Future” quilt on the side table. The women of Owl’s Perch had donated so many scraps of material for the future side of the quilt, there’d been plenty left over to make baby blankets for the children Luke and Mary would have. Running her fingers across the basting that held the two sides together, Hannah dismissed the pity she’d felt moments earlier. “No, I can’t love this child, but someone else can.”