by Marta Perry
“Yeah, right.” Young Donovan looked at his notebook again, as if hoping it would tell him what to do next. “Well, guess I’d better check in with the station. We’ll be in touch.” He tapped his cap in an awkward salute.
“Komm.” Noah reached for the back door. “I’ll see you upstairs. Unless you want to go somewhere else,” he added.
“I’d rather be in my own home.”
Joanna shivered a little at her words. Penlight in hand, she preceded him up the stairs, stepping carefully over the spot where blood showed on the wooden stair. “I should...should clean that up.”
“Not until the police are done,” he said quickly.
Nodding, she fumbled for a moment with her key and then got the door open.
Not sure whether he should follow her inside, Noah stood in the doorway. He’d wait until she had the lamps lit, at least.
In a few moments the rooms were filled with the warm glow of lamplight. Joanna turned back to him with her usual air of calm competence, the woman whose voice had faltered carefully hidden.
“Denke, Noah. I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t been at home.” She brushed a loosened tendril of brown hair back under her kapp. Her eyes, brown with a little hint of gold, darkened.
“Ach, we both know you’d have managed fine,” he said lightly. “You always do.” But she had shown him her vulnerability, there in the dark stairway, and he wouldn’t forget it.
A smile tilted her firm mouth and lit the smooth oval of her face. “I try. But I’m wonderful glad to have help.” The smile fled. “That poor woman. I hope she’ll be all right.”
There seemed little use in repeating his reassurances. “We’ll know more in the morning. I’ll make sure the bottom door locks behind me when I go out.”
Joanna nodded, stepping into the pool of light by the door to see him out. It lit her face from above, much as the light had shown on the injured woman’s face, and Noah was jolted by recognition. There was the resemblance he’d sought. The stranger who’d fallen on Joanna’s stairs looked like Joanna.
Even as he thought it, his assurance was fading. How could he be sure? It was a chance thing, a trick of the light, maybe.
“Noah? Is something wrong?” Joanna was eyeing him with the same concern she’d shown for the stranger.
“No, no, nothing.” The decision was made as quickly as that. Joanna obviously hadn’t noticed any similarity, and it made no sense to give her more worries.
“Rest easy, Joanna. I’ll check in with you in the morning.”
It was probably nothing at all. But it did make him wonder.
* * *
DESPITE THINKING SHE’D never be able to sleep, Joanna fell into a deep, dreamless slumber almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. She awoke with the sun, as always, and memory came rushing back, bringing with it renewed concern and a slight feeling of guilt for having been able to forget the injured woman.
Swinging her feet to the floor, she hastened to wash and dress, pulling her hair into the knot that fit under her kapp with the ease of long practice. When would it be appropriate to call the hospital for information? They probably wouldn’t tell her much, but it would be a relief just to know her visitor was still alive.
A shudder went through her. Last night she’d managed to avoid thinking of the grim possibilities, but this was morning, and in the light of day she must face facts. She could, she knew, but first she had to find out what they were.
The thought of food caused her throat to close, so she avoided the kitchen and went down the front stairs that led into the shop.
Joanna never came into the quilt shop without a wave of gratitude for the circumstances that had allowed her and Aunt Jessie to become partners. She glanced around at the rolls of quilting fabrics standing on end in long rows according to fabric and colors. Quilted products of all kinds hung from racks and lay in layers on the display bed, and she felt the familiar pleasure, a bit muted under the circumstances. Somehow, she didn’t think she’d be able to focus on work very well today. Something thumped on the wall that separated the quilt shop from Noah’s hardware store. It sounded as if he was in early, as well. Noah didn’t live above his business, as she and Aunt Jessie did, but traveled back and forth every day from the family farm a few miles out of town. Was he wondering about the woman, also?
Noah had been a rock last night, not that she was surprised by that. The oldest of a large family, as she was, he’d taken on responsibility at an early age. Everyone in the valley knew about Noah’s father. An alcoholic, he’d been in and out of trouble with the church for years as they’d tried to help him. Some said that he’d have been put under the bann permanently if he hadn’t passed away when he did.
None of that was Noah’s fault, of course. But it probably helped to explain his gravity as well as his calm in the face of an emergency. In any event, she had cause to be grateful.
Joanna was just about to pick up the phone when someone rattled the front door. She jerked around, her heart thudding, to see her parents looking at her through the pane in the door, Daad with his hand raised to knock.
She rushed to the door. How had they found out so quickly? She knew all about the Amish grapevine, but surely even the most eager gossips wouldn’t have found out about the accident so soon.
No sooner had she unlocked the door than she was enveloped in her mother’s arms. “You’re all right?” She drew back, cupping Joanna’s face between her palms and looking searchingly into her face. “You weren’t hurt?”
“Ach, Mamm, of course not. Why would you think that? It was another person who had the accident, not me. I just found her.”
“I knew it would come to no good, letting you live here alone like this.” Daad shut the door with an emphasis that rattled the glass. “And see what happened. The police called, even.”
“I’m not living alone,” she said cautiously, reminding herself of all the talking and persuading it had taken to get Daad’s blessing on this adventure in independence. “Aunt Jessie—”
“Jessie wasn’t here last night, was she? You should have come home until she got back.” She could read the worry behind the scolding in her mother’s tone and was flooded with regret that she’d been the cause of it.
“I would have, you know that, Mamm. We talked about it.” She put her arm around her mother. “But since I was going over to Warren and wouldn’t be back until late, I’d have had to take the buggy out in the dark to come home. It seemed simpler and safer just to stay here. I couldn’t have known someone would fall on my steps yesterday, could I?”
She kept her voice soft and coaxing as she looked at her father. Daad was not easily moved by her determination to bend things the way she wanted them.
“I suppose,” he grumbled, and she tugged on his arm.
“You probably didn’t have breakfast, did you? I’ll put coffee on in the back room, and I have some rolls in the tin.”
She shepherded them back to the workroom, where they had a tiny kitchen area in a corner. While her parents sat down at the worktable, she put on the coffee, talking to distract them.
“I went to the big fabric store in Warren in the afternoon. Wait until you see the fabric swatches I brought back for dresses for Catherine’s wedding, Mamm. Such nice material, and pretty colors, too.”
That distracted her mother’s attention, as she’d known it would, and they talked about her friend Catherine’s wedding, coming up in November. Schoolteacher Catherine, like she, had stayed single for so long no one thought she’d ever marry, until Michael Forster had come back to town.
“Enough about the wedding,” Daad said once the coffee was poured. “Sit down and tell us exactly what happened last night.”
Knowing she couldn’t avoid it, she told them the exact truth. Mammi murmured sorrowfully when she talked about the woman’s injury, and an expression she
couldn’t interpret crossed Daad’s face at the mention of Noah. Maybe that was unavoidable. As the bishop, Paul Kohler would have been deeply involved in dealing with Noah’s father.
“So they took her off to the hospital, and I don’t know anything else. In fact, I was just about to call the hospital and see if I could learn anything,” she concluded.
“Ach, yah, that’s what you should do,” her mother said. “Go ahead, call.”
Joanna glanced cautiously at her father, but he nodded, so she picked up the phone. The only one they had, it was normally kept only for work purposes. After a few minutes’ delay, caused by the fact that she didn’t know who to ask for, she was connected to the nurse on the floor where the woman had been placed.
“I’m calling to inquire about the woman who was brought in last night with a head injury.”
“Are you family?” a brisk voice asked.
“No,” she admitted.
“I’m afraid...”
Joanna broke in. “Is this Mary Ellen Dover? It’s Joanna Kohler, Mary Ellen.” She pressed the speaker button so she wouldn’t have to repeat everything.
“Oh, Joanna.” The voice warmed a number of degrees. “I heard she’d fallen at your store.” There was a brief pause. “I’m not supposed to release any information,” she said. “But I guess it doesn’t matter if you know. She’s stable, breathing on her own, but she still hasn’t regained consciousness. They’re going to run some more tests today.”
“It’s serious, then.” Joanna hadn’t realized how much she’d counted on hearing the woman was awake and improving.
“Well, she’s not in immediate danger,” Mary Ellen said. “But we’ve got to find out what causing the problem.” Her voice faded on the final word. “Listen, I can’t talk now,” she said in a hurried whisper and hung up.
“Poor, poor thing,” her mother murmured.
“Yah. We must pray,” Daad said. He clasped Joanna’s hand. “This is not your fault, daughter. You mustn’t blame yourself.”
“Denke, Daadi.” She nodded, hoping she could manage that.
It took her another twenty minutes and a cup of coffee to convince her mother to return home with Daad, but finally they were out the door, their fears allayed for the moment, at least.
No sooner had they gone than Noah came in, the bell on the door jingling. “Noah. You’ve just missed my mamm and daad.”
“Yah, I saw.” He walked along the table filled with bolts of fabrics until he reached her. “Have you heard anything?” His dark brows were a straight line across his face, and his mouth looked grim.
She thought, inappropriately, that it would be nice to see him smile.
“I called. Fortunately, I got Mary Ellen Dover, so she was willing to talk. She says the patient is stable, whatever that means, and breathing on her own. But she still hasn’t regained consciousness, so we still don’t know who she is or why she was at my store.”
“Not your store,” he corrected. “Your home.”
Joanna nodded, thinking that Noah wasn’t one to put a sugar coating on anything. “Why? That’s what I don’t understand.”
Noah’s frown had deepened. “Do you happen to have any Englisch relatives? Someone who might be looking for family members or some such thing?”
“No.” She was surprised and a little indignant. “Why would you ask that?”
He studied her face for a long moment, his dark green eyes solemn. “I don’t know if I should say this or not. And maybe I’m wrong.” He seemed to be talking almost to himself. Then he shook his head. “Joanna, did it occur to you that this woman looks something like you?”
Joanna could only stare at him. “No! Why would you think that?”
“I don’t want to upset you. But there was something vaguely familiar about her face when I saw her being put into the ambulance. And later, when I saw your face under the light, I knew what it was. She reminded me of you.”
Shaken, Joanna turned away from him, not wanting those keen eyes on her face. “I...I didn’t see it.” She rubbed her forehead, hoping that might help her think more clearly. “I don’t know what to say.” She straightened, realizing the obvious answer. “I suppose I’d better try to see her for myself.”
“Yah, I guess so.” He sounded sorry he’d brought it up.
She swung back to him. “We’d best keep quiet about it until we know. But if it turns out we’re related in some way... Well, I don’t know if that helps the police or not.”
“You could tell them,” he said. “But you’ll have to decide quickly because I see Chief Jamison coming toward the shop right now.”
CHAPTER TWO
JOANNA HAD NO time at all to think about it, because Chief Jamison was already coming in the door. With his square, ruddy face, solid build and assured manner, he was exactly Joanna’s idea of a policeman. Maybe, she told herself, because he’d been River Haven’s chief for as long as she could remember.
She sent a quick glance toward Noah, but his stolid expression didn’t give her any help. She’d just have to hear what the chief had to say before making any decision about revealing Noah’s idea.
“Good morning, Chief. Wilkom.”
“Morning, Joanna. Noah. You decide to open early this morning?”
She shrugged, smiling. “My mamm and daad were here first thing this morning.”
“Sure they were.” He came toward them, his eyes crinkling. “The Amish grapevine works better than my telecommunications. They were worried about you.”
“They were, yah. You’d think I was the one hurt instead of that poor woman.”
“No matter how old you get, you’re still your parents’ baby.”
Noah moved slightly away from them. “If you want to speak to Joanna alone...”
Before Joanna could say anything, the chief was shaking his head. “You were in on that business last night, right? You might be of some help.”
“That poor woman,” Joanna said again, her throat tightening at the memory. “How is she?”
Any hope that the woman had recovered her senses and was well on the way to recovery was blighted by Jamison’s solemn expression.
“Not good, I’m afraid. The doc says she hasn’t regained consciousness, and the longer that goes on, the more worrisome. They’re going to run some more tests this morning.” His brows knit. “Don’t like it. Bad enough to have a visitor injured, but we don’t even know who she is.”
“She didn’t have any identification at all?” Joanna didn’t realize until now how much she’d been counting on some clue to who the woman was, even if it were just an initial on a piece of clothing.
“Not a thing. Young Donovan claims he looked around for a handbag or wallet last night, but I’ll have another look myself by daylight.”
“I already checked.”
Noah’s words startled Joanna. “You did?”
“Soon as it was light, I thought I’d have a look around.” Noah looked from her to the chief. “I didn’t check the steps, because the door was locked, but I went over the rest of the area. Nothing.”
“Well, we’ll have a look anyway. I already have someone checking the hotel and the bed-and-breakfasts. Somebody must know who she is.” Frustration laced his voice.
“When she wakes up...” Joanna began.
It was a sign of how disturbed Jamison was that he interrupted her. “What if she doesn’t? What if her brain was damaged? She doesn’t look like the kind of person who could drop out of sight and not leave someone worried about her.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.” Joanna winced at the thought of a mother or a husband frantic with worry. “We have to do whatever we can.”
“Well, not much we can do but what we already are.” The chief sounded as if he meant to be comforting. “Let’s just go over what happened and see if we can put any more pieces toge
ther. Way I understand it, you’d come back on the late bus from shopping?”
Joanna pushed her thoughts back to the previous evening. “Yah, that’s right. It was the last run of the day, so it was a little after seven.” She pictured the empty street. “I walked down to the shop and came around to the back like always when we’re closed.”
“You didn’t see anybody around? Or hear anything?” Jamison leaned an elbow against a rack of printed cottons. “Nothing unusual?”
She thought back over it carefully before answering, but the answer was the same. “Nothing.”
“So then you started up the steps,” he encouraged her.
“Not right away. The buggy horse heard me, so I went in the stable. I gave her a carrot, and then I started up.”
“What about the door? Was it locked?”
That gave her pause. “I...I’m not sure. I put my key in, but it did swing open right away—maybe before I turned it. Is it important?”
“The woman had gotten in,” Noah reminded her, taking a step closer at the uncertainty in her voice.
“That’s right.” She frowned, trying to remember. “I just don’t know. In my hurry to catch the bus, I might have forgotten.” She shivered. “If I left it open and she came in and was hurt...”
“You’re not responsible,” Noah said.
She met his steady gaze, and she felt sure he was thinking again about that resemblance he’d seen. It wouldn’t be right to expect him to keep it quiet from the police.
She nodded. “Noah noticed something he should tell you.”
Jamison had remained silent, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been wondering. “Tell me what?”
Noah inclined his head. “Yah, all right.” He spoke slowly, as if weighing each word. “It was just an impression I had. Seeing the woman’s face under the light when we loaded her into the ambulance, and then seeing Joanna’s face lit from above, I thought there was a resemblance between them.”
