Sisters of the Quilt

by Cindy Woodsmall

  “Then you won’t be able to get an extension for Sarah.”

  “I’ll handle it.”

  “I’m coming in tomorrow. I intend to face Daed and the church leaders and put an end to this meeting they want with Sarah. I should be there by lunchtime, but if Mary is having any tightening across her stomach or any other odd symptoms, she needs to call the midwife immediately.”

  “I’ll make sure to get a few minutes with just her and relay your message. If I think she’s trying to ignore any symptoms, I’ll call the midwife myself.”

  She was silent again, and he waited.

  “If you talk to her and she needs me sooner …”

  “I’ll call and let you know. Anything else?”

  “Any news about the investigation concerning the fires?”

  “Not yet. I really don’t think we’ll hear anything for a few more weeks.” Paul opened the drawer and grabbed Sarah’s file. “While you’re here … I mean, since you’re coming in anyway, there are a few things we—you and Luke and me—need to cover about Sarah.”

  “Oh … yeah, sure, that’ll be fine. Bye.”

  “Bye.” Paul lowered the receiver from his ear.

  “Paul, wait.”

  She’d finally said his first name. And without choking on it too. He put the phone to his ear again. “Yes.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Anytime, Hannah.”

  Hannah ended the conversation with Paul, feeling nauseated at the surly to-do list staring at her. She didn’t want to walk down the hall to tell Dr. Lehman that she needed more time off to deal with another family issue. Worse, she’d need to leave Kevin and Lissa again and tell Martin she was returning to Owl’s Perch. They were supposed to celebrate Martin’s birthday tomorrow night. But the thing she had most hoped to avoid—facing Daed and the church leaders again-loomed before her.

  The quiet peacefulness of her surroundings inside the Amish birthing center had become a part of who she was. It was one of the beloved places in her new life. The respect she’d gained through her work and school caused her to no longer feel like the shaky, incompetent girl who’d landed in Winding Creek two and a half years ago. But this return to Owl’s Perch to deal with her Daed and the church leaders had her nerves taut. Needing a bit of fatherly support, Hannah headed down the hallway to find Dr. Lehman. Over the years she’d grown close to her benefactor. She talked to him about everything, and he’d become like the dad she wished she’d had.

  Grabbing the lab reports from her in-box as she passed by the mail center, she noted the empty waiting room before tapping on his door.

  “Come on in, Hannah.”

  She opened the door. “How do you do that?”

  He laughed. “If you don’t know by now, I shouldn’t tell you.” His gray hair glistened under the electric lights, and his abundant wrinkles creased with each word spoken. “You have a style all your own, even how you tap on a door.” He leaned back in his chair. “Did you get the birthing reports logged already?”

  “Almost, but … I need time off again to go back to Pennsylvania.”

  He laid down his pen. “Issues in Owl’s Perch?”

  “Yes, I’ll be back in time for my classes Monday night and will work here long hours next week to make up for everything.”

  He gestured toward the overstuffed chair in front of his desk. “We haven’t really talked since you returned. How’d things go when you went home?”

  She took a seat, glad for the friendship they shared. “Not great. I lost my temper too often, but Sarah’s in a safe place to begin getting well.”

  “In your shoes I’m sure I’d have lost it with them too.”

  “I … I gave the most grief to Paul.”

  “Ah, well, we won’t analyze why you targeted the somewhat innocent bystander.” Dr. Lehman clasped his hands together on the desk in front of him. “Where is Sarah?”

  “A place a bit similar to this, only it’s set up for counseling instead of birthing babies. It’s called the Better Path.”

  He rocked back in the office chair, looking both relaxed and deep in thought. “I think you’re absolutely right to reconnect with your family. That was my hope back when I helped you find your aunt and made a way for you to stay in Ohio. Take whatever time you need, but you should let the Tuesday quilters know what’s going on.”

  “I’m sure this will be the last time I’ll need to leave unexpectedly.”

  “Maybe. It’ll be best if you tell them your unpredictability with being here is rooted in the needs of your Amish family. So during Tuesday’s quilting you’ll cover this, okay?”

  She stood. “Okay.”

  Hannah sat in the carpool line, waiting to drop Kevin off at school. Martin wasn’t overly pleased with her returning to Owl’s Perch, but after a small explosion, he had helped her pack. To make things easier this go-around, she asked to take Lissa with her. Martin didn’t hesitate, saying Kevin was effortless enough for the nanny and him to deal with while Hannah was gone, but Lissa wasn’t. Since she was only in kindergarten, she could get away with missing a day or two of school, and Hannah would be home by Monday night for her nursing classes.

  While a teacher’s aide helped Kevin get out, Hannah went around the car. The aide moved on to open the car door for the next vehicle in line. Hannah knelt in front of him, straightening his shirt. “I’ll be back in a few days, so you keep Uncle Martin from staying up too late at night and eating too much junk food.” She ruffled his hair. “Okay?”

  “Aw, Hannah, it’s Friday. Staying up too late, potato chips, and SpongeBob make the weekend fun.”

  Clearly his uncle had discussed this with him. She kissed Kevin’s cheek. “A man weekend, huh?”

  “Yeah.” He put his little arms around her neck and hugged her. “Lissa ruined it last time, but I didn’t say nothing to her about it.”

  “You’re a good big brother.” She winked at him and hurried back around to the driver’s side. He waited on the sidewalk until she was behind the wheel, and then he waved and went into the school.

  With Lissa prattling endlessly for hours about cartoons, friends at school, and the differences between the Amish and Englischer homes, Hannah drove to Owl’s Perch. Her mind ran in a dozen directions, but she’d at least decided to see Mary first and deal with Sarah second. Hannah slowed the car as she came to the four-way stop near the Better Path. Why was her Daed’s horse and buggy parked under a shade tree behind the building?

  She cut into the driveway and put the car in Park. “Come on, sweetie.” She unbuckled Lissa and carried her inside the home-turned-clinic. The receptionist glanced up from her computer. “Ms. Lawson, right?”

  “Yes.” Hannah set Lissa’s feet on the floor, and the little girl headed straight for a group of toys in the corner near the desk. “I saw a horse and buggy out back. Do you know who’s here?”

  “Sarah’s father and a couple of other men. They’re in a meeting …” She pointed to a closed door.

  Hannah took off.

  “Wait, Ms. Lawson.”

  Hannah pointed at Lissa. “You make sure she stays near you.” Without waiting for the woman to respond, she opened the door. Sarah sat at the table with Paul, a stranger, her Daed, the bishop, one preacher, and the deacon. Hannah’s chest constricted. Why on earth had she trusted Paul?

  “What’s going on?”

  Her father frowned. “Has it become your place to question every man?”

  “Has it become your place to interrogate every daughter?”

  Paul rose from his seat and walked to her. “Let’s step outside, please.”

  She barely glanced his way. “Daed, surely you’re not blind enough to allow this type of meeting again.”

  Paul tapped her shoulder. “Come on, let’s step outside and talk.”

  Ignoring him, she stared straight into the eyes of the bishop. He wasn’t nearly as intimidating as she’d remembered. “And I see no reason why Sarah’s health is the church’s business.”r />
  Paul wrapped his hand around her bicep. “Roger, put all conversations on hold until I return, please.” He pulled her out of the room, closing the door behind them.

  She jerked against his grip. “Let go of me.”

  He released her and held his hands up as if proving he’d done so.

  She pointed her finger at him. “You gave me your word you wouldn’t let this happen.”

  “Hannah, I’m there with her, ready to defend or end the meeting or whatever else is needed. Roger, an arson investigator, is in there with the results of what started the fires. Sarah was doing great. Let us finish.”

  “You’re an idiot if you think you’ll understand the undercurrent of what’s being said or implied. I … I went through something similar, and it took me a year to get over those few hours.”

  “I’m really sorry that happened, but what’s taking place today isn’t about you.”

  A small, warm hand slid into Hannah’s, and she looked down to see a large set of dark brown eyes staring up at her. Fear creased Lissa’s features, and Hannah forced a smile.

  She knelt in front of her, brushing wisps of hair from her face. “It’s okay, Lissa. Just a little spat between adults.”

  Lissa frowned up at Paul. “You’re not supposed to be mean when somebody comes to visit you.”

  At least she had her loyalties in place. In this little girl’s eyes, regardless of Hannah’s outburst, she couldn’t possibly be wrong. Still, Hannah was being a horrible role model.

  “I apologize.” Paul tipped his head as if bowing to her wishes. “I’ll be more careful. Halley, why don’t you show Lissa the new colt in the neighbor’s pasture?”

  Halley rose and walked around her desk, held out her hand for Lissa’s, and waited. Lissa watched Hannah intently.

  She winked. “It’s okay. I’ll be right here when you get back. Go ahead.”

  Lissa released Hannah’s hand and took Halley’s.

  They were barely out the front door when Hannah turned back to Paul. “This is just another time of Daed not doing his daughters right. And you said you wouldn’t allow that meeting.”

  “The meeting was inevitable. When Roger had the arson report ready this morning and Sarah appeared able to cope with all of this after I talked to her about it, plans changed. This meeting is better taking place in a controlled environment.”

  “I expected you to hold your ground and not allow this, though I’m not sure why.”

  “Hannah,”—he rubbed his forehead—“I’ve done nothing wrong. Over the last two weeks, between counseling sessions and medication, Sarah has begun to realize the difference between what she actually did and what she dreamed of doing. Your Daed has been calm and careful with his words, surprisingly remaining on Sarah’s side the whole time. But when Sarah is released, she will still move in with Luke and Mary for a while. I can help Sarah and maybe, on some level, even your Daed, but I can’t make you trust me, and I can’t have you undermining Sarah’s progress.”

  Part of her saw the truth in his eyes, despite all her doubt and anger, and told her she was unjustly accusing Paul. Again. She plunked onto the couch and buried her head in her hands, trying to gather some composure. She heard Paul walk off, but her embarrassment for acting like a maniac didn’t ease. At least the meeting could continue with him in there and be over all the quicker so she could see Mary and get out of Owl’s Perch, the land of perpetual emotional overload.

  The sound of ice against glass caught her attention, and she looked up.

  “Here, this might help.” Paul held a glass of water out to her.

  She took it from him, sipped on the cool liquid, and set the glass on the end table.

  Paul shifted. “The arson investigation confirmed that Sarah’s innocent.”

  She looked up. “What? Are … are you absolutely positive?”

  The lines across Paul’s face eased into a familiar smile. “Yes. Roger is the father of a good friend of mine and has been an arson investigator for well over two decades. Since an insurance company isn’t involved, he did the investigation as a favor. Even though the Bylers’ barn burned quite awhile ago, Roger discovered the possible source to be cigarette butts. Then he poked around, asking questions until a few guilt-ridden teens confessed they’d been smoking in the loft just hours before the barn burned to the ground. He said that investigating the source of the fire for Matthew’s shop was pretty quick and easy. Someone had stored gasoline in a leaky can in the attic and then left a lit kerosene lamp nearby. His conversations with David’s family verified that David had put the gasoline up there earlier that day to keep it away from some children who’d come in with customers placing orders. Then he lit a kerosene lamp in the attic to search for something and must have forgotten to blow it out. A few hours later the explosion occurred.”

  “Paul …” He’d done a great job, but she couldn’t make herself voice that. “I shouldn’t have come in so angry and accusing. It’s just when it comes to … well, it’s easy to assume the worst.”

  “I understand.”

  “Don’t you ever lose your temper?”

  Paul sat on the oak coffee table in front of her. “Once.” He interlaced his fingers and propped his elbows on his knees. “It cost me everything.”

  Unable to look him in the eye, she wanted to speak, to say something gracious and understanding, but nothing came to her.

  He passed her the glass of water. “Look, about the meeting, with the tension between you and your Daed, I think it’d be best for Sarah if you let me handle this.”

  “Okay.” She took a sip of water. “Every time I see you, I act like an uncontrolled idiot.”

  “Not long after you left, Luke and I agreed you’d return successful … and have quite an attitude for those of us who’d been wrong.” He shrugged, a smile tugging at his lips. “We just didn’t think you’d take years to return or have a husband when you did.”

  Hannah set the glass on the table, staring at him.

  A husband?

  A door jerked open, and her father stepped out. “Roger won’t let anyone even speak to Sarah until you return.”

  Paul glanced that way. “I’ll be there in just a minute.” He angled his back to the door where her father stood. “I was able to talk with Mary for a minute last night. Privacy with you seemed paramount to her, and she asked if you’d come get her today as early as possible. If you need a place to talk, you’re welcome to bring her here. No one in her community will think it odd for you two to be here since Sarah will be moving in with them when she leaves.” He motioned to the landing. “Upstairs, first door to your left is an unused office. It has a couple of extra couches and stuff. Just put the Do Not Disturb sign on the doorknob, and no one will even knock. I’d better get back to the meeting.”

  Mute, she sank back onto the couch.

  He thought she was married? She moaned, knowing she should have thought about this before now.

  Matthew paid Nate and climbed out of the truck. The white clapboard home with green shutters was a welcome sight. The aroma of burned wood drifted through the air, making him cringe. At least this time he knew why it’d been stealing his desire to rebuild.

  The familiar sound of wet fabric being snapped in the air caused him to walk around the corner of the house. The morning sun glistened against Kathryn’s white prayer Kapp, her light brown hair evident under it. Her tanned arms stretched to hang out the day’s laundry, and awe at the woman in front of him caught him by surprise. She didn’t even notice him, and yet her presence inside him was undeniable.

  From the get-go, his relationship with Kathryn had been different from what he had with Elle. It was built on things they had in common, on workdays, and the kindness in her heart to offer him true friendship. He wondered just how much Joseph meant to her and if he had any chance of winning her over. Paying her to stay and help his family while he went off with a girl he’d once asked to marry him had probably been the stupidest thing he’d done since he�
��d met Elle Leggett.

  Kathryn grabbed the wooden basket and fiddled with clothespins inside it while walking.

  “Hi,” Matthew said, causing her to stop right before she ran into him.

  The seriousness across her face wasn’t the welcome he’d hoped for, but what could he expect from her?

  She gave a nod and redirected her route.

  He stepped in front of her. “I don’t even get a hello?”

  “Did you enjoy your extra time in Baltimore? I hope so, because it caused me to break my word.”

  “I … I’m sorry. Whatever problems it caused, I’ll straighten them out.”

  Kathryn passed him the laundry basket before reaching under her apron and pulling out a letter. “It’s my resignation.”

  He shook his head. “I’ll not take that.”

  She placed it in the basket and walked off. “It’s done whether you read it or not.”

  “Kathryn, wait.” He jogged that way and stood in front of her while she plowed on. “Just hear me out. I spent days in a fog, so confused I didn’t care about keeping my word to return.”

  “You had no right to simply call and leave a message that you weren’t returning on time.”

  “Kathryn,”—Matthew grabbed the letter and dropped the basket onto the ground—“give me another chance. I’m here to stay, to rebuild. I made decisions while there, good ones.”

  She shielded her eyes from the sunlight and stared at him. “Elle is behind you in this plan of rebuilding?”

  Matthew shrugged. “I finished endin’ things with her. We don’t even make good friends. How could we make a good marriage?” He shifted, using his body to shield her from the sun. “She may or may not ever join the faith. I wish her well, but whatever she chooses, I’m glad it’s over—in spite of the promise I once gave her.”

  Kathryn propped her hands on her hips, staring at him. “If you ever tell me one thing and then do another, I’ll …”

  Curious, Matthew taunted, “You’ll what?”

  The smile across her face said she’d moved from frustration to teasing. “I’ll tell your Mamm.”