by Marta Perry
Noah gave the window a last swish with the paper towel and used it to shine the doorknob. A rattle coming from the shop next door heralded Jessie’s arrival. She stepped out onto the sidewalk and stood for a moment, surveying him.
He tensed, half expecting a lecture on the subject of her niece. Whatever it was, he’d listen respectfully and then go his own way, like always. It didn’t pay to argue—he’d figured that out a long time ago.
“Noah.” She said his name and fell silent, standing there looking at him as if she’d forgotten what she intended to say. She cleared her throat.
He wadded up the paper towel and turned to her, not speaking. She was the one with something to say, wasn’t she?
“Denke,” Jessie said finally, surprising him. “For putting up the lights. It’s a gut idea.”
“No trouble.” He shrugged. “I should have thought to do it before now.”
Jessie stood irresolute for a moment. Then she turned and went back inside, closing and locking the door, then flipping down the closed sign.
That was an unexpected development when he’d been expecting a lecture. It seemed the accident had shattered what was normal in more ways than one. Still, if Jessie intended to be a bit more cordial, he’d take it.
With everything finished at the store, he locked up and headed for home, his thoughts still revolving around the intrusion into their quiet lives caused by the stranger. Jamison had started calling her the mystery woman, and that was about what she was. But the biggest mystery might be what part Joanna played in her story. Jessie was trying to protect her, but from what?
Holding the lines slack, he let the horse choose its own pace going home. Funny that he hadn’t known, or at least hadn’t remembered if he’d even known, about Joanna’s adoption. How did that play into that odd resemblance between the two women? If they were related, it might be more difficult to find out how, unless Joanna’s mother had stayed in touch with that distant cousin who was supposedly Joanna’s birth mother.
Supposedly—now why had he thought that? It wasn’t unusual for family members to step in when some illness or emergency kept a parent from raising a child. His mamm had a couple of cousins who’d been raised with her after their mother died. For the Amish, it was the normal choice.
Maybe it would answer his questions if he knew more about the circumstances. He could ask Mamm. She’d remember what happened at the time. When it came to babies, Amish women had long memories.
Reaching home, he let that simmer in the back of his mind while he unharnessed and turned the buggy horse into the paddock. There, the sound of arguing voices led him to the barn.
“It’s not my turn. It’s your turn.”
“Is not.”
“Is so.”
He managed not to shout, much as he wanted to. Caleb and Joshua were still young enough to enjoy a squabble now and then. But he didn’t.
“Quit it, both of you.” The edge in his voice silenced them.
Joshua, never at a loss for words, recovered first. “It’s not my turn to shovel stalls tonight. I took Caleb’s turn the day he went to work in the store, so he owes me one.”
“I wasn’t even here,” Caleb burst out. “Seems to me...”
“Enough.” He glared at them. “What would Mamm think if she heard you arguing like that? You can do it together tonight and tomorrow night.” He held up his hand to stop any disputes. “Look at it this way—if you work together, you’ll be done twice as fast. Now, don’t come in the house until you can be civil to each other in front of Mamm.”
He wouldn’t ask for the moon, but he figured they could do that much. And by the time they finished working together, their quarrel would be forgotten anyway. Whether it was or wasn’t, he wouldn’t let it upset Mamm.
Feeling he’d sufficiently intimidated them, he went on in the house. His mother was in the kitchen, stirring a pot of applesauce on the stove.
“Smells gut.” He gave her a gentle hug, thinking as always that she was so thin it seemed her bones might snap at something more.
She had her usual tired smile for him, and she patted his cheek. “Hungry? Supper will be ready in fifteen minutes or so.”
“That’s fine, but I thought it was Lovina’s turn to cook tonight.”
“Some of her friends were going shopping this afternoon, so she wanted to go with them. I don’t mind,” she added quickly.
He did, but he knew better than to say something. Somehow, Aaron and his new bride hadn’t really settled into a normal married routine. Mamm had expected to retire to the daadi haus and let Lovina take over running the farmhouse and doing the usual chores of a farmwife. But Lovina seemed to think this was still her running-around time.
If he said anything, he knew Mamm would say something indulgent about how young Lovina and Aaron were. And she’d be upset if he suggested having a talk with them. So he kept his mouth shut for Mamm’s sake, but one day he wouldn’t, he feared.
“How is that poor woman who was hurt in your building?” she asked, probably to change the subject. Since it was a good lead into what he wanted to know, he went along with it.
“Better, I think, but still not able to say who she is.” He paused, trying to find the best way into what he wanted to ask. “She looks a bit like Joanna, and they’re wondering if she might be a relative through Joanna’s birth mother. Do you remember when she was adopted?”
“Yah, for sure.” She put the wooden spoon down and turned toward him. “It was a wonderment to the whole community, coming like it did.”
His attention spiked. “Why? What was odd about it?”
“Not odd,” she protested. “Just... Well, you see, Ella Kohler had had a babe that was stillborn. So tragic. She was just inconsolable.” Her eyes filled with sympathetic tears. “The family feared for her health. So anyway, they decided Paul should take her to visit her sister Jessie, who was out West then. And when they came back a month later, they had a baby girl with them.”
He considered that for a moment. “You mean no one knew that they were going out there to adopt a baby?”
“No. Well, I can’t say what the family might have known and kept silent, but most folks were surprised. Happy for them, that’s certain sure, but surprised. Still, maybe they didn’t find out about the boppli needing to be adopted until they got out there.”
“I understand that Joanna was born to a distant cousin out there.” That was what Joanna had said anyway.
“Yah, that’s what we were told.” Mamm’s lips clamped shut on those words, and he knew that was all she’d say on the subject.
But it wasn’t everything he wanted to know. There had to be some logical reason for the resemblance between their mystery woman and Joanna. And it seemed more likely by the moment that it was through Joanna’s birth mother, whoever she was.
* * *
JOANNA ARRIVED AT Cathy’s to find her coming toward the house from the phone shanty, a small white frame building with just enough space for a telephone, an answering machine and a phone book. Once more she was grateful that the quilt shop made it necessary to have a phone.
Not that she would use it for chatting, but it was useful. And it allowed her to be the contact point for any messages that had to be passed on about the school. She still shuddered a little at the thought of the day Cathy had called her, saying there was a stranger on the school grounds who might have a weapon. She’d rather not relive that again.
“Catching up on your messages?” she asked as Cathy reached her.
“I am, and a gut thing I checked it.” She made a face indicating disapproval. “Rachel called. Her father isn’t feeling well, so she thought she’d best stay home with him.”
Maybe if she could say something outrageous it would relieve her feelings. “He’s perfectly healthy except when Rachel wants to go out. If she’d just walk out on him once—”
>
“She won’t.” Cathy pushed open the back door. “If she could, she wouldn’t be our Rachel, ain’t so? Komm, I have soup and sandwiches for supper, and then I thought we could get the dresses cut out if we have time.”
“Why wouldn’t we have time?” Joanna took off her bonnet and smoothed her hair back.
“There was another message,” Cathy said. “From your aunt. She’s over at your parents’ house, and she wants you to stop for her after we’re finished.”
“Really?” She turned back to Cathy from the coat hooks. “That’s funny. She didn’t say anything about going out when I left her this afternoon.”
“Maybe she didn’t know then.” Cathy set two steaming bowls of ham-and-bean soup on the table and removed the waxed paper from the plate of sandwiches. “My folks are out for dinner at Daad’s brother’s. Lots of visiting going on for a weeknight.”
They sat down, and Cathy led the silent prayer that began every meal. Once they both had their sandwiches, Cathy went back to the subject of Rachel. “I just wish we could think of some way to get Rachel out of the house more.” She looked speculatively at Joanna. “I don’t suppose you need to hire anyone at the shop.”
“Afraid not. Between us, Aunt Jessie and I can manage the number of customers we have, and we’re not making enough to justify hiring someone. Maybe next summer, if we get a few more tourists in town...”
Cathy nodded, understanding. “A regular job would be a challenge anyway. Her father expects her to be there when he needs her.”
“Those two brothers of hers are old enough to do a few things around the house.” Joanna’s tone was sharp, not that it did any good. They both knew that Rachel’s brothers, just like her father, considered anything in the house to be women’s work. “I’ll tell you one thing... I won’t easily give up my independence to be at anyone’s beck and call.”
“It doesn’t have to be like that,” Cathy said, and her gentle face glowed with love. “If you love someone...”
“Yes, we know you found the perfect man in Michael. And you love his little girl like your own.” She smiled, hoping to eliminate any hint of sarcasm. “You are fortunate. And so is he, for that matter.”
“I know.” Cathy spoke with such conviction that Joanna’s heart felt oddly empty.
It wasn’t that she was jealous of Cathy, she hastened to assure herself. And she certain sure wasn’t thinking of Noah. But still...
Forget it, she told herself firmly. This was Cathy’s special time, and she had to focus on her.
She succeeded so well that they were in a gentle ripple of talk and laughter all the time they were finishing the meal and spreading out fabric. Joanna was enjoying herself so much that she’d forgotten all about the DNA test and the stranger who might be related to her.
Until, that is, she glanced out the window and saw that the sun had not only slipped below the ridge, but that even the orange glow it left in the sky was fading.
“Look outside.” She put Cathy’s scissors back in the sewing box. “I didn’t realize how late it was. If I’m going to go over to Mamm and Daad’s place to pick up Aunt Jessie, it’s time I was leaving.”
“Ach, you’re right, Joanna. I’m so sorry. I should have paid attention. Now, don’t try to clean up. I’ll take care of it. Let’s get you on the way.”
They went out together. As always, it didn’t seem quite so dark once Joanna was away from the light, and she climbed up in the buggy. It would be full dark by the time they reached home, but thanks to Noah, the back lights would make it easy to take care of the mare.
It wasn’t far to the family home, and most of the drive was on single-lane roads with no traffic. She pulled to a stop at the porch, ignoring Princess’s obvious wish to head for the barn. She’d expected Aunt Jessie to come rushing out, scolding her for not being here earlier, but it was Daad who came out to meet her.
He took the lead rope and clipped it onto Princess’s headstall. “It’s gut to see you, daughter. Komm in.”
She held back. “Doesn’t Aunt Jessie want to get on the road?”
“Not yet. There’s something we must talk about.” Holding her arm, he hustled her in the back door to the kitchen.
Aunt Jessie was pouring out coffee. Mamm took one look at Joanna and rushed to hug her. She squeezed her back, used to Mamm’s frequent hugs. But this was different. When she drew back, Mamm’s eyes were filled with tears.
Fear sent Joanna’s imagination into high speed. Something was wrong.
“What is it? Are you sick? Is Daad sick? Did something happen to one of the boys?” The words spilled out in a rush.
“No, no.” Aunt Jessie set the mugs on the table and pushed her toward a chair. “Nothing like that. Just sit down so your daad can talk to you.”
But at the moment Daad was bending over Mamm. “You don’t have to stay. Why don’t you go and lie down?” His tone was persuasive, but Mamm started shaking her head and just kept on doing it. She sat down with an abrupt movement that was almost falling and wrapped her arms around herself.
Daad exchanged a look with Aunt Jessie. She shook her head slightly, and he pulled a chair over so that he sat facing Joanna, but within arm’s reach of Mamm.
“Stop worrying, Joanna.” He clasped her hand briefly and then drew back. “No one is sick.”
He was silent for a moment, his face brooding. She had no idea what to say, so she didn’t speak.
Daad took a long breath. “Your aunt told us that you were going to have that DNA test today.”
“Yah.” The change of subject sent her thoughts off in another direction. “It just took a couple of minutes. They took a sample from me and from the woman, but they won’t have the results for a few days, at least.”
Her father’s face grew even more solemn, if possible, and the light finally dawned on her.
“This is about the DNA test, ain’t so? You’re worried about something it might expose. But I already knew that someone else was my birth mother. It doesn’t matter. You are my parents.” She glanced from Daad to Mamm, to find that her mother was weeping silently. Tears slipped down her cheeks, one after another as if there was no stopping them.
The tears stabbed at Joanna’s heart, and she rushed around the table to her mother’s side. “Mammi, it’s all right. Don’t cry. Everything will be all right.”
Those were the words her mother had used for everything from a broken doll to a broken heart, and they covered a fierce longing to do anything that would make the pain stop.
“Nothing can change my love, Mammi. Please.” Her voice choked with tears, and she couldn’t go on.
Daad reached across Mamm to pat her shoulder. “Hush, now, Joanna. Just listen, please. It’s the best thing you can do.” He waited, his solemn gaze compelling her agreement.
She nodded and settled onto the chair, holding her mother’s hand. “You know that your mammi and I had a babe that was stillborn, yah?” Daad winced a little as he called up that grief.
She nodded again. Was Mamm weeping over that long-ago child who hadn’t had a life?
“Mamm was so grieved.” He seemed to look into the past and see pain there. “She couldn’t seem to get over it. We were all so worried about her. Finally, your aunt suggested I bring her out to Ohio to visit for a time, thinking a change might be good for her.”
She knew all that already, but she didn’t speak. Obviously, Daad needed to tell this in his own way.
“We hired a driver to take us there, but it seemed like everything went wrong. The weather turned bad, and the car started to have engine problems. It broke down entirely when we were in western Ohio. It was snowing hard—I couldn’t remember a time when it snowed so heavy. Anyway, someone took us to a motel where we could stay the night. It was filled with people stuck because of the storm.”
He paused, seeming to see that snowy, stormy night
. Joanna could almost see it, too—the lights of the motel nearly obscured by the snow piling up. Mamm would have been so relieved to be inside a building. She didn’t like traveling in a car at the best of times.
“So we were safe for the moment, and I was able to reach your aunt. She arranged to send a driver for us as soon as anyone could travel. So we went to bed, thinking tomorrow would be better.” He paused as if gathering his strength. “We were almost asleep when we heard something rattling at the door. At first, I thought it was the wind, but then I heard what sounded like a baby’s cry.”
Joanna understood then. She almost didn’t have to hear the rest of the story, except of course that she did. She had to know all of it.
“Your mamm rushed to the door before I could move. She opened it. There was a basket, like a laundry basket, by the door, with a baby in it.” He met her eyes. “With you in it.”
She looked from his face to her mother’s, hardly able to believe. A baby on the doorstep—it was like a storybook. She sat here in the kitchen that had been the center of family life ever since she could remember, hearing something that knocked her life completely askew.
“We brought you in, out of the cold,” Daad said. “That was all I was thinking, to get you inside. But your mamm—she gathered you up in her arms and held you close, and her face was filled with such joy as I had never seen. She held you and she wouldn’t let you go.”
Mamm stirred slightly. “You were my baby. The answer to my prayers. I knew it.” Her eyes glistened with tears, but there was a trace of the joy Daad spoke of in her face.
Joanna found her own eyes filled with tears. “But...you mean you just kept me? How did you do it? You mean no one found out? How could that be?”
