Sisters of the Quilt

by Cindy Woodsmall

  “You’ve changed me, Hannah. Without you, Kevin and Lissa would be in foster care, and I’d be a scrooge in the making, torn between wanting my own way and feeling guilty for abandoning the two most precious things I could imagine. You were here for Zabeth when I was so overwhelmed I was beginning to hate life.”

  “You never told me that.”

  He took her hand and turned it palm up. “My heart landed right here because you earned it, but maybe we tried to turn the love we have for each other into something it wasn’t supposed to be. As just a friend and the niece of Zabeth—that’s a relationship we could’ve made work for a lifetime. I want someone who can’t live without music. Someone who takes pleasure in the same things I do, including my kind of church, the band, friends, movies, fine restaurants, vacations, and swimming, and golfing—”

  She held her hand up to stop him. “I get the idea. Thanks.”

  “We tried, phone girl. We really did. But I don’t like who I’d turned into lately in order to try to hold on to you. I didn’t sleep last night, trying to think this through. You don’t look like you slept much either.”

  She shook her head.

  He stood. “I need to go.”

  She gazed into his eyes, clueless how to express all she was feeling. “You’re a remarkable man, Martin Palmer.”

  His green eyes held a hardness she knew he was capable of, but Zabeth would be proud of the gentlemanly way in which he was handling himself.

  “We’ll finish this out amicably, Hannah. I promise.” And with that he left.

  She went to the door and closed it, then slumped against the frame and sobbed.

  The December chill went right through Hannah as she knelt in front of Lissa and Kevin. Since this was the meeting place for everyone who was going to Hawaii, Martin’s driveway was a bustle of activity as luggage was moved into the vehicles that would caravan to Cleveland. Christmas was in three days, and the whole gang would be on the island before bedtime tonight by Hawaii’s time zone.

  Hannah buttoned Lissa’s coat. “You have lots of fun and eat fruits and vegetables, okay?” She tugged at Kevin’s winter cap, making sure it covered his ears better. “And don’t forget to use that digital camera to take photos. Laura said she’ll help you e-mail them to me.”

  They each held a carry-on that Hannah had loaded with things to help keep them busy during the fourteen-hour flight.

  Kevin held up the new camera Martin had given him for the trip. “It’s gonna be so much fun! You’ll be sorry you let Laura take your ticket and didn’t wait to move back home until after the vacation.”

  “I’ll be with my brother and niece over the holidays while you’re with your uncle and sister. It just makes sense.”

  “I get it.” Kevin shrugged. “Uncle Martin said you’re moving, not leaving. We’ll see you some, right?”

  She nodded, unsure how much contact Martin would allow. He wasn’t willing to discuss it.

  Lissa hugged her. “Laura said I can have a meal and a Coke and choose my own snack when we’re on the plane.”

  “Oh that’ll be fun.” Hannah held the little girl close, memorizing the warmth of her. When Hannah and Martin had explained to them she was moving back home, they’d accepted it with only a few tears.

  Martin was really good at knowing how to divert the children’s attention while they adjusted to new facts in their lives.

  He clapped his hands. “Okay, guys, you’re in the vehicle with me and three other adults. Go.”

  They took off running, squealing with laughter. The heavy silence between her and Martin bore the weight of shattered hopes.

  Graduation had come and gone. Dr. Lehman and the nurses from the clinic had attended, each carrying a carload of Plain women from the Tuesday quiltings. Laura and the children came. Martin said he needed to work, but they both knew that work had nothing to do with why he hadn’t come. Hannah even wondered if he was already dating again. But true to his word, he’d been amicable to the very end.

  Since graduation Hannah had logged a lot of work hours, getting the clinic as ready for her departure as she could. Dr. Lehman hadn’t come to the going-away party, saying he wanted her to come see him at least once every two months. Whether she did or didn’t, he’d come see her every time he went to Lancaster to visit his mother. So they’d made a pact.

  Martin pulled his gaze from the van to her. “So, this is it.” He paused, looking as if he felt sorry for her. “I’ll let Laura help Kevin and Lissa call you whenever they want to, but other than that I could use some distance.”

  “I understand.”

  “You’re all packed?”

  “Almost.”

  “If you need anything …”

  “Thank you.”

  He pulled some papers from his pocket and held them out to her. “The cabin, as well as about thirty thousand dollars, are yours on your twenty-first birthday—a gift from Zabeth that she wanted you to have when the time came. She had a small life-insurance policy, and you were the beneficiary. Just contact the lawyer who’s listed.”

  She eased it from him, wishing this wasn’t happening and yet knowing they had no choice. Tears burned her skin, and she tried to swallow the ache in her throat.

  He shrugged. “I sold Ol’ Gert to the Sawyer family a few days ago. It’s going to be a Christmas present for their children. I didn’t figure you’d mind.”

  She shook her head. “That’s fine.” Except as things dragged on, this felt more like a divorce than a breakup of two people who’d dated for nine months. But she hadn’t run out in spite of how painful the last two weeks had been. The adjustment Kevin and Lissa had made during that time was surprising, like she was a sibling going off to college.

  “Take care, phone girl.” He wrapped his arms around her, the first truly kind gesture he’d made since he’d ended things between them. She broke into tears. “Sh.” He kissed the top of her head before taking a step back. “Don’t work too hard.”

  Laura was in the front passenger’s seat but facing the back as she spoke to the other adults in the rented van. She acted more like a grandmother than a nanny, and that seemed to fit both Martin’s and her needs. Amy Clarke was in the backseat, helping Lissa get buckled in.

  After Martin left, Hannah would leave. That’s what they’d agreed to, for the children’s sake. They’d also agreed she’d keep the ring, because it’d become clear during this lengthy departure time that wearing Kevin’s and Lissa’s birthstones was a heart connection for them.

  The van backed out. Kevin and Lissa were smiling and waving. Hannah put a smile on her face as she waved until they were out of sight. Martin never glanced back. She slowly walked to the cottage. After crying for quite a while, she took a long, hot shower and finished packing. It was past lunchtime when she left her house keys on the table of the cottage and locked the door behind her.

  Barely able to see for the tears, she slid behind the wheel. The pain of leaving seemed just as horrid as the pain she’d carried when she’d arrived in Ohio. But in spite of her heartache and guilt, she didn’t regret her time with Martin. Still, he was right; he deserved someone to love and enjoy all of who he was and what he had to offer.

  The tears eased some, and she began to pray for him. As the hours passed and darkness took over the winter skies, a bit of hope replaced her anguish, and she began to sense that he’d eventually be happier without her than with her. That meant the children would be too.

  As peace began to warm her, thoughts of Paul seeped in again. It was too soon to contact him, to even hint at what was going on in her life, so she drove toward Luke’s place. There would be time for her and Paul to talk later. He’d waited for her for nearly three years. Surely she could wait a few more weeks to finish giving her relationship with Martin a decent grieving time. No one knew she was coming, but she figured she could stay with Naomi Esh or Luke and Mary until she found a place of her own.

  She reached over to the seat next to hers and ran her finger
s across the gift-wrapped present for Paul. In spite of her sense of disloyalty toward Martin, she’d reopened Paul’s letter before daylight today and read all of it for the first time. Paul’s ability to understand and accept her just as she was had washed over her anew as she read the words he’d written so long ago. Afterward, she wrapped the “Past and Future” quilt for him. She wasn’t sure when she’d give it to him, but she knew it’d be soon enough—sometime next month, for his birthday this summer? When was soon enough too soon?

  The pastures on each side of her were covered by a blanket of snow, and the clear skies had a purple hue under the quarter moon. From the opposite side of the road, a horse and buggy came toward her. As they passed each other, the rhythmic clopping of the horse’s hoofs unleashed dozens of emotions within her. Unlike witnessing horses and buggies in Ohio, Hannah felt she was home. The snow glittered like shards of glass under the moon’s glow, enveloping her with an odd yet familiar sense that she couldn’t define. She pulled her car off the side of the road and got out. White fields spread out before her with barren trees lining the horizon.

  “Hannah.”

  A whisper swooshed across the field with the winter wind, rustling a few dead leaves with it. Eeriness ran over her, reminding her of the whisper that had called her from Owl’s Perch years ago. Now it returned? Just as familiar, just as indefinable.

  “Kumm raus.”

  Almost overwhelmed, her legs wobbled. She knew that voice. Didn’t she? Chills ran wild, and she felt so strange. Years ago she couldn’t place the voice.

  Today she could.

  “Oh, Father, was it Paul all along?” Inside her coat pocket, she clutched the letter he’d written to her. She backed against the car for support as epiphanies poured into her. He’d not just come back for her. He’d returned willing to marry her and take on the child she carried. Barely able to remain on her feet, she drew cold air into her lungs.

  The first time she’d heard the voice to Kumm raus—to come out—she’d stood by her infant’s grave, yet it came with a multitude of sentiments: hope, longing, freedom … and love so deep she’d thought maybe it was God Himself. And part of it had to have been God. He’d certainly stayed with her through her journey, giving her all the things she sensed inside that whisper—hope and a future.

  “God?”

  Knowing more pieces to the puzzle than ever before, she sensed that leaving to find Zabeth had not been a mistake. And she could never regret knowing Martin—even if dating him should not have been part of their relationship.

  Unable to let go of the whisper, she stayed, but the desire to see Paul grew with every minute. He’d waited so long, so patiently, as if “Kumm raus” didn’t mean coming to him—not immediately. If it had been Paul’s voice beckoning to her, he’d called her to come out from under her father’s rule, her community’s gossip, and the brokenness that was heaped upon her. But he’d been willing to wait until she was also free from the pain.

  Because she couldn’t reach him, she became entangled in new things that kept her in Ohio.

  The need to see Paul intensified. Surely if she handled herself right and kept a careful watch over her actions, it wouldn’t be dishonorable to go to him, to give him the quilt and let him know she was … home.

  She got into her car and headed for the clinic. If he wasn’t there, she’d go to Luke’s. Maybe. She glanced at the clock. It was almost seven. She drew close to the four-way stop near the Better Path. The parking lot was empty except for Paul’s car.

  She shifted gears, pulling into the parking lot. Through a second-story window of the Better Path, she saw Paul in a room that wasn’t his office. He appeared to be reading something in his hand. She flipped open her phone and scrolled to the number she’d logged as Paul’s—the number she’d accidentally called four weeks ago.

  “Hannah,” Paul answered, “what’s up?”

  She tried to find her voice.

  “Hannah?”

  “Yeah.” She managed a whisper.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Could you look out the window?”

  He walked closer and peered down. The surprise on his face made her smile.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I … I brought you something.”

  Through the window he held her gaze for a few seconds. “I’ll be right there.”

  She closed her phone and got out of the car. By the time she’d walked to the passenger’s side and lifted the gift from the seat, he was on the front porch, wearing only short sleeves. His gorgeous eyes spoke of love so deep she almost couldn’t bear to look. Physical strength radiated from him. She moved to the foot of the steps with the gift.

  “Making a quick visit home before flying out, eh?”

  That was Paul. Unassuming. Upbeat. And careful in his tone and words to honor the decision she’d given him concerning Martin.

  She held the gift toward him, and he lifted it from her. It was wrapped, but it wasn’t inside a box.

  He removed the gold wrapping paper easily, letting it fall to the ground. “The ‘Past and Future’ quilt.”

  “It seems it came full circle back to me, and now …” She choked back the tears.

  “Hannah, what’s going on?”

  She pulled the letter he’d written three years ago out of her coat pocket and held it up to him.

  He’d barely looked at it when recognition registered on his face. “Dorcas shouldn’t have sent that.”

  “It was the right thing to do.” She slid it back into her pocket. “Paul, I was a part of your past, and I want to always be a part of your future.”

  “Hannah?”

  “I … I’m not sure I should have stopped by here. It’s too soon.”

  He stepped closer, and the rush of power she felt from being near him was something she experienced nowhere else.

  “Martin and I … aren’t together anymore.”

  With the gentle movements that so defined him, Paul caressed her cheek with one hand and held her gaze, saying so many things neither of them could voice—not yet, not for a while. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I … I may not be able to have children.”

  He shifted the blanket to her arms and cradled her face, his hands trembling. “I want you. That’s all. Surely you know that by now.” He eased his arms around her, holding her tight while resting his head on hers. “You’re home,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

  Hannah had ached for a moment like this for so long, dreamed of it even before he’d asked her to marry him and oh so long after she thought she’d lost his love completely. With the quilt between them, she wrapped her arms around him.

  After long minutes of holding her, he took her by the hand. “I have something I want to show you.” They went inside and up the stairs to the room he’d been in when she arrived. Documents were scattered everywhere, and a set of plans were spread out on the table.

  Paul held up a finger. “While you look at that and figure out what I’m working on, I need to get something from my office.” He stopped at the door and then returned to her. Lifting her face toward his, he studied her. “You’re here.”

  She nodded, choking on fresh tears.

  “You’re really here.”

  Tears spilled down her cheeks. He placed his hands on her shoulders, his eyes glistening and a gentle smile covering his face. “I’ll be back …”

  She looked over the papers, chills covering her as she realized what he was up to. He came back into the office with a shirt box and set it to the side.

  Had he been expecting her?

  He couldn’t have, so how did he have a gift for her?

  She studied the info spread out in front of her.

  “Do you know what you’re looking at?”

  “Plans for a clinic.”

  “Not just a clinic. One that will be designed and staffed as an Amish and Plain facility.”

  Her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it echoing against her
eardrums.

  Paul pulled out a chair for her. “It’ll take a couple of years, but the board has already voted to turn the guesthouse into an Amish clinic. We have few patients who need to stay there, so allocating that building for housing isn’t the best use of it. When you returned in September, my eyes began to be opened to the difference a medical facility for the Plain community would make, more so for the local Amish than Mennonite. I’m not sure how we’ll staff it with a doctor and all, but we have plenty of time to work on filling each position.”

  Remembering years back, before Paul or anyone but her parents knew her secret, she’d felt as if she’d become an empty kerosene lamp, the outward part of no use without its fuel. Oh, how she’d longed for Paul to know everything about her and still love her. How she’d desperately needed to find one thing she was good at and hold on to it. And now all those things were hers. Was this really happening?

  “I want to get a bachelor’s of science degree in nursing. I just need to know all I can in that field and mix it with all we know of being Plain.”

  “The board will want you to become a member and use your knowledge and influence, if you will.”

  “Of course I will.”

  “Then we’ll begin raising money. By the time the clinic is ready to open with all the equipment and supplies purchased, staff hired, and licenses acquired, you’ll have your degree.”

  Paul shifted the box he’d brought in, placing it in front of her, but she couldn’t move. He lifted the lid off the box. “Remember House of Grace?”

  Powerless to answer, she watched as he picked up photos of a little girl.

  “We’ve been her sponsor for nearly three years now. Look.” Paul took out a couple of handmade cloth pouches with cross-stitching around the border.

  After running her fingers across the fabric in his hand, she reached into the box and pulled out a large stack of drawings on colored paper.

  “She creates pictures from the markers, crayons, watercolors, and stacks of paper we send.”

  “We?” Hannah choked.