Sisters of the Quilt

by Cindy Woodsmall

  A uniformed man strode by. “Train for Pittsburgh will begin boarding in two minutes,” he called out. “Please have your tickets ready.”

  Luke felt panicky. He had to change her mind. “So you have some things to work through. It’s the hand you were dealt, Hannah, but Mary and Matthew and I will help you. We’ll set things right with the church. It may take some time, but …”

  A man wearing a red cap stopped in front of them. “If you wish to ride the elevator to the platform, I’m heading that way in just a minute.”

  Hannah drew a deep breath and stared at Luke. “Think, Luke, just really think about this. Would you want to stay if you had to face what I’ll have to face for the rest of my life?”

  Luke searched his sister’s face. She’d borne so much grief and condemnation that she was no longer the girl he’d known only six months ago.

  God, help me. What do I say?

  No one spoke as he waited to get some inkling, some word of wisdom.

  Let her go.

  His heart sank. He wanted the chance to do things right, but this wasn’t about him. “You will write to us or call Mary and let us know when you’re settled?”

  “I will,” she said, her eyes misting. “I promise.”

  The redcap returned, pulling a long flatbed dolly behind him. Matthew stood and passed the man Hannah’s bag and a ten-dollar bill. “Make sure to carry this bag onto the train for her and get her a seat.”

  “Absolutely, sir.” The man grabbed her suitcase and placed it on the dolly. He then turned to collect some of the other passengers’ bags.

  Matthew gently placed his hands on Hannah’s shoulders. “You’re sure about this?”

  She stroked the two tickets in her hands. “Yes.” She hugged him tight. “Good-bye, Matthew.”

  He squeezed her gently. “Bye, Hannah. You take care and write to us.”

  She backed away. “I will.” She turned to Luke. “I’m going to be fine.”

  Luke swallowed hard. “Can you at least tell me where you’re going?”

  She shook her head. “It’s best that no one knows.”

  Luke hugged her, wondering if he would ever see his sister again. “You’re probably right.”

  When he let her go, she looked at him for a long moment. “Thank you.” She grabbed one of Luke’s hands and one of Matthew’s. “Both of you.”

  The redcap paused in front of Hannah. “You ready, ma’am?”

  She let go of their hands. Matthew’s returned to his side, but Luke held on to his sister. A shadow of insecurity came over her face.

  Luke released her hand and turned to the redcap. “She’s ready.”

  Hannah glanced at her boarding passes, one for the first leg of the trip to Pittsburgh and the other for the Amtrak passenger train that would take her to Alliance. Gripping her tickets as well as her ID, she felt her resolve weaken. At the moment, hope only slightly outweighed her anxiety.

  Grateful Luke had come and shared his feelings, Hannah fell into step with the small group of people following the redcap as he pushed the dolly filled with luggage. After twenty or so steps a hallway came into view on her left. The beauty of the Harrisburg Train Depot ended abruptly as gray concrete seemed to cover everything except the dingy-looking elevator doors.

  She turned and waved at Matthew and Luke. They both waved back, looking torn between supporting her decision to leave and wanting to keep her near. Pulling her attention away from them, she walked to the elevator and squeezed in with the few others who weren’t using the stairs.

  The redcap pushed a button. As the doors began to close, realization of what she was doing hit Hannah like an ice storm. A voice inside her head screamed at her to grab a piece of luggage off the dolly and shove it between the doors. Was she making the worst mistake of her life? How could she leave everything familiar behind? Could the pain of knowing that her daughter might have lived if she’d handled things right have caused her to imagine God was leading her away from the source of her pain?

  She fought to get control of her fears. How could she, a girl with an eighth-grade education who’d just given birth and buried her child, move to some foreign place and start over?

  Closing her eyes, she remembered the whispery voice, and her fears calmed a bit.

  As the sun went down for the second day, Paul made another round through Owl’s Perch. He’d known the Amish community could keep its silence, not even giving an impression of politeness if they thought an outsider was subversive, probing, or inappropriate. Regardless of who knew what, those he approached either turned away from him or closed a door on him without sharing a bit of information.

  In spite of knocking on Matthew Esh’s and Mary Yoder’s doors, he hadn’t convinced anyone to share more than a hard countenance and an unwillingness even to hint where Hannah might be. Mr. Esh had informed Paul that Matthew and his mother were gone for the night. When Matthew returned, Paul could ask whatever questions he wanted. Matthew was a grown man, and he could decide for himself what he wanted to say on the subject of Hannah Lapp.

  Her name seemed to be poison on the man’s lips. “Ya don’t need to knock on the door again, asking for him. When he gets home, someone will hang a towel on the front railing.” During the curt, brief conversation with Mr. Esh, Paul got the feeling that Matthew’s being gone was in some way related to Hannah. Maybe he’d taken her somewhere to hide while the community calmed down.

  With nowhere else to turn, Paul had gone to Gram’s the night before and had slept a few hours before beginning his search again. He’d straight-lined it for the Esh place, but there was no towel hanging out. As he drove on, going through the community again and again, he had to face that his willingness to accept Hannah’s reality might be too late. She’d gone into hiding somewhere, and unless Matthew helped him locate her …

  His heartbeat quickened when he spotted what looked like an Amish woman riding in a van, sitting next to a driver, with an Amish man in the backseat. Paul’s fatigue fell to the wayside as the car drove into the Eshes’ driveway. He pulled up beside the other vehicle and jumped out. The woman barely looked at him as she closed the car door and trudged toward the house. When the man climbed out of the backseat, Paul immediately recognized him.

  “Matthew,” he called.

  Matthew glanced up before turning back to pay the driver. The driver shook his head, refusing the money and drove off.

  “I’m Paul Waddell. I’m looking for Hannah.”

  Matthew looked at him with eyes that were every bit as unfriendly as Mary’s and Hannah’s father’s had been. “She’s gone. My mother and I took her to the train station.”

  Paul’s heart seemed to stop beating. “Where did she go? How can I contact her?”

  Matthew shook his head. “She didn’t say. She doesn’t want anyone to know where she’s going.”

  Paul struggled to stay standing.

  Matthew stepped forward, his features changing from coldness to puzzlement. “Why did ya take her money?”

  As if a second fist had hit Paul in the chest, he gasped. “What?”

  “The money in the account that belonged to both of you. Why did ya take her part of it?”

  “I never … It’s gone?”

  Matthew nodded.

  Paul’s chest constricted as he carried on a conversation that had nothing to do with helping him find Hannah. “I only use that account twice a year, putting money into it after all expenses have been paid out for a six-month period. But … is it possible that Hannah lost the bankbook the day I gave it to her, the day she was raped?” Paul rubbed his forehead, feeling unbearably dizzy. “If her attacker got his hands on the bankbook and emptied the account, then maybe the police will have a lead to find her attacker. Will you go with me and tell them what you know about it?”

  Matthew dipped his head and sighed. “I don’t know. I disobeyed the bishop on some things concerning Hannah, and I’m in a lot of hot water with him … and my girlfriend.”

&nbs
p; “I … I didn’t realize you had a girlfriend.”

  “I did …” Matthew shrugged before he reached into his pocket and pulled out a letter. He handed it to Paul. “Hannah said you’d come looking for her at some point.”

  Paul snatched the letter as if he’d been thrown a lifeline. He tore it open, hoping it would tell him where to find her.

  Paul,

  If you’re reading this note, then you’ve come in search of answers, perhaps in search of me. I have no way of telling how much time has passed. Maybe you have a family of your own by now.

  I’m not sure how much help I can offer you, but I had to go. It seems that no one believes my account of how I conceived a child. The injustice of this is more than I’m willing to bear. I need to get away, to start fresh. I had to put everything behind me and begin anew, like putting new wine into new wineskins, ya?

  I hope you find peace, Paul. I don’t hold you responsible for your reaction. I hope you don’t hold resentment against me for mine. I wish you well.

  Hannah

  Feeling as if he’d been thrown into a deep pit with no way out, Paul held tight to the letter. “How will she support herself and a baby?”

  Matthew didn’t answer.

  Paul searched Matthew’s eyes, looking for hints of things he wasn’t saying. “Does she have a plan? Is she going someplace where they’ll help her and the child?”

  Matthew folded his arms across his chest. “Hannah went into labor a couple of days ago. The baby died.”

  A loud, unstoppable groan left Paul. Unable to stand on his own, he placed the palms of his hands against the roof of Marcus’s car. She’d given birth since he’d seen her a few days ago?

  God, how can anyone survive all this alone?

  “She’ll get a job,” Matthew went on.

  Paul drew several deep breaths, needing the cold air to keep him from turning into a raving maniac. “But if she has no money …”

  “She didn’t leave empty-handed. She has enough to take care of herself in any way she needs until she’s on her feet. I … I made sure of that.”

  Paul lowered his head into his hands, too hurt and tired to know what to think.

  Matthew placed his hand on Paul’s shoulder. “She needed to go. Trust God with that.”

  God wasn’t the issue here. It was Hannah, who’d chosen to run off while Paul had spent nearly two days and most of a night looking for her. Why did she have to keep the pregnancy such a secret? Couldn’t she have found a way to tell him months ago so they at least had a chance of working through all this? Who would she go to for help now?

  Frustrations and fears melted together until Paul had no idea what he felt—or what he should feel.

  “Paul, trust that Hannah figured out what she needed and that she’s doing it.”

  Paul lifted his head and gazed into Matthew’s eyes, seeing the same kindness and understanding Hannah must have seen. Matthew lowered his hand as Paul began to reread the letter.

  Hannah wanted a fresh start. As he read, the frustration of nearly thirty hours of riding through her community searching for her released its grip on him. The phrase “new wine into new wineskins” was biblical symbolism he’d shared with Hannah on several occasions. Despite his anguish, a gentle peace slowly eased over him. The young woman he’d always thought had the heart of a lion had just broken free of her cage. A smile tugged at his lips.

  Maybe Hannah and Matthew were right. Perhaps she did need a clean break from the scandal and grief that the rape had caused. But he wanted to be with her.

  “You say she has plenty of money and a plan?”

  Matthew nodded. “She’s safe, Paul, and probably enjoying the freedom to find her own path in this world.”

  Paul walked to the edge of the driveway and gazed across the snow-covered pasturelands to the distant hills. The view was almost a perfect image of the dreams that had haunted him night before last. “Two days back I dreamed throughout the night that a voice was calling to Hannah from across the lands to kumm raus.”

  “Paul.” Matthew’s voice broke with emotion, and Paul turned to look at him. Matthew’s brows knitted tightly, and shock covered his face. “She heard the same words call to her as we stood near her infant’s grave site. She even answered it aloud.”

  Paul couldn’t budge as Matthew’s words worked their way into his understanding. He studied the horizon, mystified at this assurance of Hannah’s departure.

  Confusion and heartache lifted somewhat as optimism surrounded him. Confidence that she would return one day took root. He would hold on to that hope and continue to pray that the Lord would heal her and complete the work He had begun in her—in both of them.

  Godspeed, Lion-heart. Godspeed.

  After stepping off the elevator and onto the train platform, the redcap asked Hannah to wait on a bench while he boarded the others first. He reassured her that he’d reserve a seat for her that had room for her carry-on. As she waited, her thoughts turned up the heat on worry.

  Her community and other family members besides Luke had to know by now that she’d left Owl’s Perch. The Yoders and even her own parents didn’t want her living under their roofs, but that didn’t mean they would accept her leaving. The faster she could put more distance between her and her people, the better.

  For them and for her.

  The minutes seemed to drag by, and her heart palpitated several times before the redcap returned. He led the way as they followed the yellow line, passing several cars in the process.

  He came to a stop. “This is your car, ma’am.” Without leaving the platform, he passed her bag and ticket to a uniformed man on the train, who seemed to be expecting her.

  Before she’d decided whether she should tip the redcap again or not, he’d disappeared.

  With the porter leading the way, Hannah strode down the aisle. He motioned to a seat near where baggage was being kept. “I’ll put your bag right here in front of you. If you need anything, let me know.”

  She eased onto the thick blue chair, glad she had the whole row to herself. Through the train window, she could see people on the upper level of the building she’d left minutes earlier. People young and old were gazing through the glass from inside the building, waving their good-byes to loved ones. Neither Matthew nor Luke was anywhere to be seen, and she wondered if they’d already headed home.

  Doubts tumbled through her mind while grief and uncertainty assaulted her emotions. Maybe the voice that had called her to kumm raus was simply her mind playing tricks on her and she’d been foolish enough to follow it. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, wondering how she could plan a future based on a nondescript, unspecific voice.

  The train shifted forward smoothly, and her misgivings quieted some. As it began swaying and picking up speed, Hannah’s hope stirred again. Soon she began to feel as if she were soaring like an eagle rather than gliding and jolting along on train tracks. She was beginning a journey between her and God. It had to be worth taking.

  As the hours passed, Hannah watched the ever-changing scenery outside her window. Every time the train stopped and then pulled out from another depot, she sensed she was leaving behind a bit more of her overwhelming sense of powerlessness. It became easier and easier to breathe as the train moved northwestward. She hadn’t expected that.

  As she stared through the window, a soft whisper crossed her soul.

  Nevertheless.

  It was an odd word coming to her at an odd time, but it kept circling through her mind, whispering hope. Life hurt. Nevertheless, it was a gift worthy of honoring.

  Nevertheless.

  The word came stronger this time, immediately lifting her spirits and causing sprigs of new faith to grow.

  Her infant had died. Nevertheless, Rachel was now with God.

  Hannah’s relationship with Paul was over. Nevertheless, God’s strength would pull her through.

  If everything ended with God, then those who were in Him had a good ending—eventu
ally.

  A deep warmth comforted her.

  If she already felt this much healing before she’d even gotten on the second train, what healings lay ahead as she learned about life and God over the next few months or years?

  She closed her eyes and basked in the warmth of her renewed faith in the God who loves His children.

  She’d find her aunt and make plans from there. For now, that’s all she knew. And for now, that was enough.

  A desire to write to Paul swept over her. He needed to know about nevertheless. Regardless of the way things turned out between them, God had a plan.

  Acknowledgments

  I’d like to give a very special thanks to three women without whom this book and its sequels would not be possible: Miriam Flaud, my dear Old Order Amish friend, who opened her home, her family life, and her heart to this writing endeavor; Linda Wertz, who knows the Amish community well and opened doors for me, chauffeured me tirelessly whenever I landed in Pennsylvania, and never questioned if it would all be worth it; and Kathy Ide, editor, mentor, and friend. You in no way doubted that I could do this, even though you saw the roughest drafts of them all.

  I’d like to thank everyone who had a hand in making sure all fictional patients responded in ways that were medically accurate: Rebecca T. Slagle, BSN, MN, neonatal nurse practitioner; Kim Pace, RN, BSN, manager, NICU/Nursery, Northeast GA Medical Center; Jeffry J. Bizon, MD, OB/GYN; Terri Driesel, physical therapist; Elizabeth Curtis, RN.

  Thank you to my critique partner, Marci Burke, whose fast-paced imagination, problem-solving skills, and faithful diligence can get any author out of a writer’s block and back to work long before he or she is ready!