Sisters of the Quilt

by Cindy Woodsmall

  But she couldn’t just drive away. Sarah needed help, and Hannah intended to see that she got it, because it was clear that Sarah was as trapped inside her mental imbalance as Hannah had been inside her circumstances. No one deserved to be abandoned to either of those. No one.

  The man’s voice echoed inside her head … “Can you tell me how to get to Duncannon?”

  Hannah doubled her fists. “God will turn for good what was meant for evil, and I will come out better in life because of the attack. Better! Do you hear me?” She made a complete circle, yelling at her surroundings.

  She gazed up at the crystal blue sky, feeling traces of hope that only God could give.

  With Mary beside him, Luke guided the horse and buggy down the dirt road he’d seen Hannah driving on just a few minutes ago. When he saw her pass the Lapp house, he figured she might be headed to the apartment where he and Mary were supposed to be living, the place the community had built for them while they were mending from their accident.

  When he spotted her car, it was parked on the dirt road itself, not in the driveway of his building. Hannah was leaning against the front of it with her back to him. Why was she here, on this road of all places?

  He brought the buggy to a stop, and she turned, catching a glimpse of him before standing and heading his way. The closer she came, the more he realized that she barely resembled her former self. It wasn’t just that she’d become a woman and wore the clothes and hairstyle of the Englischers, but he couldn’t put his finger on what else made her so different.

  “Hi.” She stared up at him while playing with the sunglasses in her hand.

  “Look at you. All grown up. When I saw you at the train station, a white sheet had more color and shook less in the wind than you.”

  She smiled. “Yeah, but I survived …” She slid her glasses into a side pocket and pressed her hands down the front of a very dirty dress. “And then life got better.”

  Feeling as ill at ease as he did when he was a teen trying to hide his emotions, Luke couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  “Luke.” Mary elongated his name.

  “Oh ya, sorry.” He jumped down and helped his very expectant wife down too.

  Mary stumbled as her feet hit the ground, and Luke steadied her. She watched Hannah, staring at her much like Luke was. Hannah’s eyes went to Mary’s stomach, and a slow smile crossed her face. Mary closed the distance between them, and the two women fell into an embrace.

  As he watched his wife tremble, he realized she’d never truly shared with him just how badly or how often she’d missed her closest friend.

  When they took a step back, Mary looked unsure and awkward again. Luke pointed at Hannah’s hair and clothing. “I saw a glimpse of you at the funeral, but … you’re not living Plain?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “At the train station you had on Plain clothing.”

  “Of course. All I had in the way of identification was a photoless ID. The only way that’s accepted is if the Amish clothing accompanies it. Did you think I’d been living Plain all this time?”

  “I’d hoped.”

  It seemed the volume of unwelcome discomfort between them could’ve filled every silo in Owl’s Perch. Clearly his sister was now an outsider.

  Mary smiled. “I hope ya own nicer and cleaner dresses than this one, or being fancy needs a new name.”

  Hannah swiped her hands over her stained dress. “I had a flat tire.”

  She’d done what? Luke studied the car. “You know how to change a flat tire?”

  “No, but I figured it out … hopefully. If I didn’t, I’ll know it when the tire comes off.”

  Mary nudged him. “Leave her alone already and give her a hug. I know you want to.”

  He stared at his sister, wondering if she was as different on the inside as she looked on the outside. He moved like he’d been thrown from a horse a few days ago, all stiff and uncomfortable, but he embraced her. “I suppose there are worse things than living as an Englischer, although I’m not sure what they are.” He squeezed her tighter. “I’ve missed you so much. Don’t you ever leave here again without telling us how to reach you.” He released her. “Ya?”

  She nodded. “Wait here.”

  Hannah came back with a business card. “This has my cell number on it and my work number. You call, I’ll answer.”

  Mary held out her hand for the card. “It’ll be less likely to get lost if I keep it.”

  “Hey.” Luke laughed and grumbled.

  Hannah passed him a card too. “Take this, and we’ll see if you can keep up with it.”

  “Thanks.” He read the card. “So you work for this Dr. Lehman?”

  Hannah nodded. “You would be hard pressed to find a better man anywhere than Dr. Lehman.”

  “Paul said your last name is now Lawson.” Luke glanced up from the card. “Seems nothing about you is the same.”

  “Zabeth helped me change—”

  “Zabeth?” Mary interrupted, flipping the card over as if looking for answers.

  Hannah’s eyes reflected sadness, but she offered a smile. “Daed’s twin sister, one he never spoke of. She lived shunned for close to three decades, and … I stayed with her until she died in May. She helped me change my last name when I arrived.”

  “Changed it?” Feeling offended, Luke fought to suppress it. Neither man nor woman should change their God-given name because it suited them. “Were you that ashamed of being Amish?”

  “Luke,” Mary scolded him, shock filling her eyes.

  Hannah tilted her chin, staring him in the eye. “That had nothing to do with my decision, but I had several reasons. Mostly I had to let go and start over. Will you hold that against me?”

  Luke held his tongue in check, wrestling to see this from her perspective.

  “Look, I don’t want to argue or defend myself What’s done is done, and Sarah called me home.”

  Especially because she was here for the first time in years, Luke didn’t want to quarrel either. “I’m pretty sure Daed thinks you’re married.”

  “It doesn’t much matter what he thinks or how he feels on this topic. I’m not married now, but I will be soon enough.”

  Luke removed his hat and scratched his head, wondering where all the lines of right and wrong were in this. “Except if he learns you’re not married, he’ll try to persuade you to come under his roof and join the faith. When that doesn’t happen, he’ll blame himself, making Mamm’s life harder.”

  Mary slid her hand around his arm. “Then maybe it’d be best if we don’t say anything.”

  He fidgeted with his hat, watching his sister. Finally he nodded. “Probably so. For now.”

  It was a few moments before the awkwardness faded a bit and Hannah gestured at Mary’s abdomen. “I see your childhood dreams continue to come true.”

  Mary’s cheeks flushed with pink. “It must be for all the world to see these days, no matter how large and pleated the dress.”

  Hannah nodded. “When is the baby due?”

  “November, right before Thanksgiving.” Mary rubbed her stomach. “I’ve been so excited that I wanted to put an ad in The Budget.”

  The horse nudged Mary, knocking her forward. Hannah steadied her before the animal whinnied loudly, making Mary jump and Hannah and Luke laugh. Hannah pulled a set of keys from her dress pocket and pressed a button on the keyless remote. The trunk opened. She grabbed a bag of baby carrots and opened them.

  Luke rubbed the horse’s neck. “Do you always carry horse snacks with you?”

  Hannah placed a carrot on the palm of her hand. “I bought some groceries so I wouldn’t need to eat out so much while here.”

  “You’re staying all week?” Luke asked.

  She shook her head. “No, I need to find answers for Sarah and get back to Ohio. Not only do I have a family that needs me, but every day I’m here I lessen my chances of graduating from nursing school come December, and someone else has to take my clin
ical rotations. If I miss class on Wednesday and Thursday, I’m likely to give up all chance.”

  “Clinical rotation?” Mary asked.

  “It’s a lot like doing apprentice work, only in a hospital.”

  Mary’s brows crinkled. “You do that separate from working for Dr. Lehman?”

  “Yeah, each requires time every other weekend, and then I work for Dr. Lehman during the week, around my school schedule.”

  Mary glanced at Luke, her greenish blue eyes mirroring a bit of hurt. “And you have a family? No wonder you ain’t been back. You left yourself no room for missing us.”

  Luke shifted. “What exactly do you want for Sarah?”

  “I … I think she needs professional help, Luke.”

  He didn’t respond.

  Hannah gazed into his eyes. “You have to see the problems too. Not wanting them to exist doesn’t keep them from being real, and it doesn’t help Sarah.”

  “I’m not sure what you think you can get done while you’re here, but Daed is not going to agree to Sarah seeing someone. Paul mentioned that to Daed not long after you left, and I wouldn’t recommend repeating the idea.”

  Mary touched his arm, gazing up at him. “If Sarah’s setting the fires, we don’t have a choice but to try to get her some help.” She looked to Hannah. “The family is trying to keep her from running off, but your parents are exhausted from the effort.”

  Luke put on his hat. “I really don’t think Sarah’s setting the fires. I got no proof. Just hunches. Sarah’s got problems, but it’s not like her to hurt someone.”

  Hannah’s forehead creased. “Well, she did plenty of damage to my life, and she meant it too. But whether that was just a sister thing, I don’t know.” She gazed down the road toward the Lapp home. “I guess it’s time for me to talk to Daed. I have to see him anyway before I leave. I might as well stick my neck out all the way while it’s on the chopping block.”

  “I’ll stand beside you, if you think it’s the right thing to do,” Luke offered.

  “It’d be great if you and Mary could be at the house, but let me talk to him alone first. If I know Daed, my chances of winning this debate are best if he doesn’t think I’m trying to get people on my side and turn them against him.”

  Luke notched his hat tighter on his head. “Sound thinking.”

  He was sure Mary would like a few minutes to talk with Hannah alone, but he couldn’t suggest she ride with Hannah to the house. If Daed saw his daughter-in-law riding with his wayward daughter, the bishop would be on Luke’s doorstep soon enough, with frowns and words of correction for both Mary and him.

  “You know, I need to mosey on up to my old harness shop and try to collect rent.” Luke climbed into the buggy. “Mary, why don’t you stay here, and I’ll be back in a bit.”

  His wife smiled at him. “Sure.”

  Hannah held out her hand for Mary. With their heads almost touching, the two began talking as if time had stolen too little to really matter.

  The sound of a car in the driveway made Sarah drop what she was doing and head for the back door. The plate clanging against the floor meant little to her.

  “Sarah,” Mamm scolded above the noise of the wringer washer, “you can’t let go of everything because you had a new thought.”

  She paused, turning to look at the twirling metal plate and scattered scrambled eggs. “Sorry.”

  That was the right word. She was sure of it. It seemed to her that words carried enough weight to change anything, if she could just find the right ones. Without returning to help clean up the mess, she barreled out the back door.

  Hannah opened the driver’s side door while fidgeting with a cord of some type. She placed a small silver thing in her dress pocket and then got out. “Hey, Sarah, how’s your morning going?”

  Sarah got right in front of her sister. “You gotta take me to see your baby, then maybe we can all go to Ohio together. I know the babe’s a toddler now, but …”

  “Sarah, I explained all of that yesterday when we were on the dock. Remember? The baby died. Didn’t others tell you this already?”

  “It’s not true. The baby is alive. We just haven’t found where they took …”

  “Her,” Hannah finished the sentence. “I had a girl who was born too premature to live. It’s fairly common with teen pregnancies.”

  “No!” Sarah screamed the word. “No. No. No. No!”

  “What’s going on?” Daed came out of the barn yelling. His eyes moved from Sarah to Hannah. “Hannah.” He gave a nod.

  “Hi, Daed.”

  Sarah wanted to scratch their eyes out. They behaved so orderly, so stoic, when there was no way that’s how they felt. Why couldn’t someone in this family say what they were feeling? Why did they hide so much, even Hannah’s own child? Well, clearly it was up to her to show the truth.

  Hannah wiped the palms of her hands down her dress. “I came to talk …”

  Daed nodded. “It’s much past time. We have a lot to talk about.”

  “I spoke with Sarah yesterday, and she’d like some help.”

  “So that’s what you want to talk about?” Daed paused, staring at his eldest daughter. “You lied to me coming and going. Then you’re gone for years only to come back to meddle in things that are none of yours. I think your visit has lasted long enough, don’t you?”

  “Daed, I … I was seventeen, and by our own traditions it was my free time to find a mate.”

  “The rumschpringe is to be used to find an Amish mate, and you know it!”

  “I understand that’s every Amish parent’s hope, but those years are for young people to step outside of parental authority and find their own path. Did you not do much the same during your teen years?”

  “You’re too much like Zabeth.”

  “I found her and lived with her until she died. Did you know that?”

  “I figured as much. And seeing you now, I can’t say it did anything positive to help guide you. From the time you were a little bitty thing, you were too much like her. I was blindsided by trusting you to be who you appeared to be, a dutiful girl who wouldn’t lie to me. I got no use for a liar.”

  Ready to yank her own hair out, Sarah watched as Luke and Mary pulled into the driveway and drove the horse and buggy up to the far side of the carriage house. He barely glanced at Daed, and she bet he had no power to improve things between Hannah and Daed.

  She couldn’t let Hannah leave.

  Flames danced in her head.

  Fire.

  The thought soothed her rumpled nerves, and Sarah took several steps backward without either Hannah or Daed noticing. She slipped off to the shed, found her stash of matches, and grabbed her push scooter.

  With the matches in her pocket, Sarah rode the scooter, propelling it with her foot, as fast as she could to Katie Waddell’s.

  The fires brought Hannah, and fire will keep her.

  Burned wood and ash crunched under Matthew’s feet, making him cringe at the memory of what’d taken place right here. Maybe Elle was right; maybe getting away from Owl’s Perch was a good idea, a better one than he wanted to admit. What had living Amish gained him so far?

  Loneliness and ashes.

  She’d said she loved him. He longed to believe that, needed it now more than ever. The half-burned beams were good for nothing but being knocked down. Over two years of hard work gone. It made him sick. The only thing that seemed to bring a trace of hope to life was Elle’s invitation to come to Baltimore. Everything else felt as empty and lifeless as this building.

  “Matthew.” Kathryn’s voice called to him from the direction of his house.

  How could he rebuild the place that killed his brother?

  “Matthew?” Kathryn clapped her hands, drawing him from his thoughts. She stood at the edge of the burned-out place. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine. Did ya need somethin’?”

  “Your mother asked me to have you come in. She’d like to apply the salve to your back whi
le she’s up for a bit.”

  Matthew lifted a charred buggy wheel. “Elle’s asked me to go to Baltimore and stay for a while.”

  “A few days there while you’re healing isn’t such a bad idea, I guess. You can’t do much here until you heal more, and the newness of Baltimore might lift your spirits and give you a different perspective.”

  Her voice had the first bit of edge to it he’d ever heard, and he looked up.

  She held his gaze. “What?”

  “You don’t like the idea.”

  “I have concerns. You’ll answer to the bishop about this for sure.”

  Matthew nodded. “He won’t learn of it until I’m gone.”

  “I don’t know what you’ll tell your Mamm or Daed—or even your brother, for that matter—that will keep from adding fear and stress to them.”

  He tossed the ruined wheel onto the ash-covered ground. “It’s my life, not theirs.”

  “Your pain is talking, not Matthew.”

  He kicked a half-burned leg of a workbench, causing it to fall. “The pain has been burned into me until we’re one.”

  “For now. But it’s your choice whether the pain grows stronger than you or whether you grow stronger than it. And I happen to think making choices that hurt those we love will cause the ache inside a person to grow stronger and the true soul to grow weaker.”

  She just didn’t get it. It wasn’t her brother that had died, or her back that burned and hurt constantly, or her business that had burned down, or her love that beckoned her away. “That sounds an awful lot like flowery words from someone who doesn’t know and can’t possibly understand.”

  “I didn’t lose a business. That part’s true, but I did lose a brother.” Pain flickered across her face, and she paused. “Abram drowned, and”— she closed her eyes for a moment—“I go on.”

  For the first time Matthew realized who Kathryn was—Elmer Glick’s daughter. When Matthew was about twelve years old, Elmer Glick had lost a son in a drowning. That son was Kathryn’s brother, which meant, according to rumors that had flooded in from Snow Shoe some eighty-five miles away, Kathryn had come close to drowning too.