by Marta Perry
“Joanna.”
Noah’s voice recalled her from her wandering thoughts.
“I was watching for you to come out. I wanted to talk to you about last night.”
She met his gaze, and an awkward silence fell between them. His expression said he wanted to speak but couldn’t quite manage it.
Apparently, this challenging topic was up to her. “I am sorry for losing my temper. That should never have happened. Please forgive me.”
“No.” He held up a hand to stop her. “I’m the one who should apologize. You had just come through one crisis after another, and at a time when I should have been sympathizing and helping you, I put even more pressure on you with my own petty frustrations about my father. I don’t know what was wrong with me.”
Joanna didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Did he really think she found his troubles petty? She longed to say what she’d felt but was afraid of opening up a painful subject. “Maybe we should say that we were both having a bad night and try to forget about it.”
“That’s generous of you, Joanna.” Noah was frowning, clearly not ready to forgive himself. “I’m afraid that I let my feelings about your father affect what I said.”
She blinked, taken by surprise. “I don’t understand.” He’d talked about the humiliation and embarrassment of having the bishop and the ministers come to his house, but how could he blame them? “He and the others were trying to help your father. What else could they do?”
“I know. I know.” He touched her wrist lightly as if in apology. “I tell myself that now, and I know it’s true. But sometimes I still feel like that humiliated kid who felt sure everyone was talking about his family.”
Joanna closed her hand over his, feeling his pulse thudding against her palm and wondering if he also felt hers. “I’m sorry. I wish I had known, back then, how you felt. But I didn’t realize any of what you went through. The grown-ups did, I guess, but they must have kept it from the kinder.”
“Yah, I guess.” He shook his head as if to clear it and drew his hand away from hers. Her skin felt chilled where his warmth had been. “What’s past is gone. I shouldn’t let it affect me. If you can forget what I said, I’d be grateful.”
He was acting as if he could actually dismiss the past and its pain, but she thought it wouldn’t be so easy to do. Any more than she could ignore the questions about who she really was and whether or not the woman in the hospital was related to her.
Noah cleared his throat, and she suspected he was as wary of saying too much as she was. “I saw the photograph in the newspaper today. Let’s hope it gets some results.”
“It won’t unless it gets more widespread coverage than just here in River Haven. If anyone in town knew her, I’m sure we’d have heard about it by now. But the chief said nearby newspapers were showing interest.”
He nodded. “It’s an unusual story. I’d guess other papers would pick it up just because it’s different. Someone is going to identify her. I’m sure of it. Then you can stop worrying so much.”
“Somehow, I don’t think it will be that easy, but if they do...” She hesitated, not sure it was wise to say what she thought.
“Then the DNA test won’t be so important.” Noah finished the thought for her. “Ain’t so?”
She nodded. “Maybe it’s being cowardly, but I’m feeling like you did about your father’s troubles. I don’t want our family issues to become public property.”
“Yah. I never thought of that, but I certain sure should understand if anyone does.”
“I wish...” Joanna let that trail off, not sure she wanted to say what she’d been thinking.
“What?” He moved a little closer to her as if ready to hear a secret.
“I would still like to know if she is related to me. But that seems selfish, especially when I think about how upset my mamm has been. It might be easier for her if I never knew either way.”
“But would it be easier for you?” His voice was low, and she sensed caring in the gentle question.
Joanna raised her eyes to his, knowing how troubled they must look. “I don’t know, Noah. I really don’t. But I think I probably won’t have a choice about it.”
Noah was very still for a moment, looking down at her. Then he took her hand gently in his. “If there is anything I can do. Anywhere, anytime. I’ll be here.”
He held her hand in his for another moment. Then, before she could guess his intent, he raised it to his lips, pressed a light kiss on it and then let go and walked away.
CHAPTER EIGHT
JOANNA HAD TO force herself not to run back to the shop. Noah’s action in kissing her hand had been completely unexpected. She hadn’t done anything to give him the impression... No, she couldn’t have. Just because he’d been a friend when she needed one, that didn’t mean that she expected or wanted anything else.
“Where have you been?” Aunt Jessie’s tart voice greeted her as she came into the shop. “Chief Jamison wants to see you, not me.”
“Now, Ms. Jessie, I didn’t say that.” He followed her aunt, looking a little harassed, as people usually did who’d gotten the rough side of her aunt’s tongue. “I’d like to talk to you later about the break-in, but right now I need Joanna’s help.” He glanced meaningfully at the few customers in the shop, all of whom were watching him.
“Why don’t we go into the back room to talk?” she suggested, and hurried him out of their sight.
“Whew.” He closed the door behind them. “Can’t say I enjoy having all those women listening so closely to every word.”
“I’m sorry if Aunt Jessie was a little...abrupt. She’s been upset.”
“It’s okay. Anyone would be. The impact of being robbed hits people the same no matter how much was taken. Anyway, that’s not what I came about. You remember what I said about getting a lot of crazy calls about the picture in the newspaper?”
She nodded.
“Turns out the Philadelphia paper ran it, and there was a tip that came out that might be serious. Not much, mind you, but a name anyway. Meredith Bristow. Ever heard of her?”
“I don’t think so.” The name didn’t mean anything to her, except that it was obviously Englisch. “Was there anything else?”
“The thing is, we don’t have anything but the name. The hospital staff tried mentioning the name to her, but she didn’t respond. Mary Ellen suggested that if you asked her about the name, she might respond, seeing that you’re the only one to get anything out of her.”
Joanna pushed away the thought that at the moment she’d like to be left alone. “Yah, of course. Do you want me to come now?”
“No time like the present.” He was already opening the door, so Joanna followed him back into the shop. He went outside rather hurriedly, and she explained the situation to her aunt.
“I guess you have to do it.” Her response sounded like grumbling, but Joanna could see past it to the worry that lurked behind the words. Unfortunately, it seemed whatever Joanna did would cause problems for someone.
“He wants me to come now. Will you be all right?”
“Yah. Go.” She turned away.
Joanna looked at her helplessly for a moment. Then, with a brief touch of her arm, she hurried out to the waiting car.
They were halfway up the hill to the hospital before she’d managed to focus on what was ahead of her. “So that’s all you want from me? Just to see if she’ll respond to the name?”
He gave a short nod. “That’s all we have now. I put someone onto checking out the name in Philadelphia and the surrounding area, so we might know more soon.”
“I hope it works out.” She hesitated. “I guess if it does, you won’t need the results of the DNA test, because she’ll be telling us who she is. Did you hear anything yet?”
“Not this soon. Maybe in a few days, since the laboratory is rushin
g it. Yeah, I’d like to have this cleared up by then.”
Joanna nodded, but she didn’t know what to wish for. If only it could be cleared up without involving Mamm and Daad...
By the time they neared the patient’s room, Joanna found she was repeating the name over again in her mind. But Meredith Bristow didn’t mean anything to her.
Mary Ellen was waiting at the door. “So, Chief, I see you took my advice. Joanna’s the only person our patient has responded to.”
“Would you have expected more from her by now?” Joanna paused by the door.
Mary Ellen shrugged. “Seems as if her coma is lighter every day. So much so that we wouldn’t be surprised if she’d started talking anytime today.”
“Let’s hope this makes it happen.” Jamison ushered them inside. “Here we are, Joanna. It’s all up to you.”
Again, Joanna hesitated, not liking the burden they seemed to be putting on her. She turned to Mary Ellen again. “Is it bad that she hasn’t wakened by now?”
“I wouldn’t say bad.” Mary Ellen sounded as if she was being deliberately cautious. “Sometimes people wake up after quite a long time. But yes, it would be more encouraging if she’d done it by now.”
“Just give it a try.” Jamison, apparently tired of the delay, took Joanna’s arm and led her to the chair next to the bed. “Remember, Meredith Bristow.”
Pulling her arm away, Joanna sat down. If he thought she was annoyed, well, she was. It wasn’t fair to put all the responsibility on her.
Then she looked at the woman’s face, and the irritation slipped away. She did look much more normal today. She seemed to be in such a light sleep that Joanna would expect her to open her eyes at the slightest touch.
Joanna touched the slack hand lightly and then covered it with hers. “I told you I’d come back to see you again. You look much better today.”
Chief Jamison moved restlessly, clearly wanting a more direct approach. But when the patient had responded before, it had been to an ordinary conversational tone.
“I hoped maybe you could talk to me today. Or open your eyes. It’s such a beautiful fall day here in River Haven. I’m sure you’d love to see it.”
The hand under hers twitched—she was sure of it. She glanced at Mary Ellen, who stood at the foot of the bed, watching them intently and saw that she understood. Jamison moved again, looking as if he’d speak, but the frowning look he received from Mary Ellen seemed to silence him.
Joanna focused on the still face. “Do you remember me? I was here to see you yesterday.” To her amazement, the woman’s face was no longer still. She frowned, forehead crinkling, almost as if she tried to remember.
“That’s right. We talked yesterday. You had an accident, and I found you on my stairs. My name is Joanna Kohler.”
Her eyelids fluttered slightly. Joanna held her breath. Surely, the frown meant that the woman could hear her.
“Are you Meredith? Meredith Bristow?”
The eyelids fluttered again, faster. Then the woman’s eyes opened. She moved her head slightly, and her frown deepened. Joanna felt as if no one breathed, waiting.
The woman focused on Joanna’s face, looking at her with golden-brown eyes that grew more focused by the moment. Her lips moved. “Joanna.”
Joanna’s heart leaped. “Joanna, that’s right. I’m Joanna. Are you Meredith?”
“Meredith,” she repeated slowly. Her gaze drifted away, seeming to lose focus.
Joanna tightened her grasp, feeling as if she had to keep the woman anchored in the present. “Talk to me. Please,” she said softly.
“Joanna. Meredith.” It was the softest of murmurs. And then her eyes closed, and she slid away into sleep.
* * *
NOAH HAD SEEN Joanna go off with Chief Jamison earlier, and since then he’d been divided between watching for her to come back and wondering what had gone wrong now. Not that it necessarily had to be something bad, but the way things had been going for Joanna recently, it probably was.
She had confided in him, and she’d trusted him with her secret. He’d wanted to do anything he could to help her. And instead, he’d taken a liberty that any unmarried Amish woman would resent if not from someone she was courting.
Why had he kissed her hand that way? He could only tell himself that it had seemed the most natural thing in the world. They had been so close in that moment.
He had tried to express his regret, and she had taken it lightly. Maybe...maybe she was telling herself that their relationship was serious. Maybe she was expecting a proposal.
And that was impossible. He’d told Joanna a little about the pains of growing up with an alcoholic and abusive father, but he hadn’t told her the fear. He hadn’t told that to anyone—the fear that deep inside, he was like his father.
He looked out the window again, hoping to see the car bringing her back, but he might as well not bother. She’d probably never trust him again, let alone confide in him.
There was a step behind him. “Not so busy now, yah?”
Managing a smile for his younger brother wasn’t hard. “No, not busy.” And it probably wouldn’t get any busier.
“You think I could go out for a couple of minutes?” Caleb’s blue eyes looked innocent enough, but Noah suspected he had his fingers crossed behind his back.
“Let me guess. You want to go down to the gas station and get a soda out of the machine. And see who else is hanging around.”
Caleb grinned and nodded. “I’d come right back.”
“Half an hour, right? Not a minute more.”
“Right. Denke, Noah.” He was halfway to the door when he turned back toward Noah. “Are you... Are you really worried about the business?”
The question, coming haltingly from the little brother he’d always tried to protect, caught him by surprise. It took a moment to arrange his face in the properly cheerful expression. “Not really, no. People will come back, once they’ve tried the new place. Most of them anyway.” He hoped.
“Gut.” Caleb’s smile flashed. “Because I want to be in business, too.” He sobered. “Aaron keeps saying I belong on the farm, but he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Joshua’s the one who’s got farming in his blood, not me.”
Anyone could see that, except Aaron, it seemed. He imagined an unpleasant talk with Aaron would be coming up—at least assuming the store didn’t go under.
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” he said. “Things will work out.”
Reassured, Caleb plunged out the door. He stopped for a moment, looking around probably in search of someone he knew, and then sauntered down the street.
It seemed young Caleb had been thinking of the future. Well, Noah would have to make sure he had his chance. That was why he and Aaron had been working so hard, after all—to give the younger ones a good start and Mamm the security she’d never known.
While Noah was still looking at the street through the front window, he saw the chief’s car pull up. Joanna got out, saying something to the chief, and then disappeared into the quilt shop.
That was a relief. He could imagine her father’s reaction if he saw his daughter riding through town in the police car. That would not be the bishop’s image of his family.
It seemed he was still thinking negatively of Joanna’s father. He’d left Joanna with the impression that those feelings had been outgrown, but maybe that wasn’t so.
Noah was busying himself by cleaning an already spotless show cabinet when Joanna came through the door, setting the bell ringing.
She smiled up at it, and then turned the smile on Noah, making him feel as if she’d reached out and squeezed his heart.
Tossing his paper towel in the wastebasket behind the counter, he took a step toward her.
“I didn’t expect to see you this afternoon. It looked as if you were tied up with Jamison.” H
e was sorry the moment the words were out. They made it sound as if he expected her to tell him what was going on.
Her face actually lit as she looked at him. “It’s gut news. At least, I think it is. The chief had a tip that she might be a woman named Meredith Bristow, from Philadelphia. He wanted me to talk to her again, and she actually woke up, at least for a few minutes,” she added cautiously. “She seemed to respond to the name, but then she drifted out again. But it’s a wonderful gut sign, ain’t so? And the chief will try to get someone who knows Meredith Bristow to identify her.”
“That is gut news. I’m happy for her and for you. They won’t need the DNA, and you can leave it all behind you.”
Joanna nodded, but her expression puzzled him. Was that regret in her eyes? He was tempted to ask but pushed the idea away. Best to leave well enough alone. Probably the woman’s family would whisk her away to a Philadelphia hospital, and Joanna could go back to normal.
Joanna shook her head as if shaking off her worries. “What am I thinking? I am here to get the dead bolts that the chief said I should put on my doors.”
“Dead bolts are the thing to do, but I remember saying that I’d be happy to take care of it.” He kept his tone teasing, but was this a polite way of saying she could take care of her doors by herself?
But her smile reassured him. “I’m wonderful glad to have you install them, but I don’t see any reason why I shouldn’t pay for them. Retail price, too.”
“I’m not charging you retail price, so don’t you even think it. My friends get a discount. You know that.”
“You’ll never get rich that way,” she warned, smiling.
“It’s gut I don’t want to be rich, then.” He brushed aside his worries about the shop so he could keep the conversation light. It seemed clear that Joanna wanted to pretend those moments when he’d kissed her hand hadn’t happened, and that was fine with him. “I’ll stop over after we close with my tools and the locks. If that’s okay with you, that is.”
