Love Redeemed (41 page)

“Not back.” His features softened. “We go forward, doing it better. God forgives. He doesn't just forgive—He throws our sin away; He crushes it under His feet and it's gone. That's how big His grace is. If He does that, shouldn't the rest of us do the same?”

The strength of his words—the fierce belief in his voice—lifted her. She rushed to match his candle of hope with her own. “We can go forward. We can try again, only try harder to do it better.”

“Would people accept this effort, this wanting to change, do you think?”

“I wouldn't.” The high, tight voice behind them held disbelief and contempt. “I can't believe you're in here, the two of you, doing who knows what after what happened to Lydia.”

Phoebe looked beyond Michael, who stood frozen to the spot, toward the source of that sharp, angry voice. Hannah's voice. She stood in the doorway, hands on her hips, her face scarlet with fury.

“We're just talking.”

“Talking about…I can't even say it. I'm out here in the buggy, waiting for you, ready to go, and you're in here with the man who caused our sister to die.” Her voice cracked as tears began to course down her pinched face. “You're both terrible, horrible, awful people.”

She whirled and slammed through the door, gone in an instant.

Chapter 39

B
y the time Phoebe raced to the school door and out onto the small porch, Hannah had disappeared. She'd left the buggy, the horse tethered to the railing next to Michael's, and run away on foot. “Hannah! Hannah, come back,” Phoebe shouted, knowing her sister wouldn't obey. Hannah had been the one dark spot in an otherwise good day. She sat in her row a silent, yet condemning reminder that the past had accompanied Phoebe through the door at the beginning of this day, this new start. She'd answered questions when called upon to do so but had volunteered nothing. At recess she'd sat on a swing, not moving, not talking, her gaze on something no one else could see.

“
Ach
, Hannah. Come back! Please come back.”

Nothing.

Phoebe bent over, hands on her knees, trying to get a breath. She stared at the wood under her feet and tried to understand how such sturdy construction could rock. Her whole world rocked.

The sound of Michael's boots on the porch behind her brought her upright. He cleared his throat. She faced him.

“If that's any sign of how folks will react, we're in deep, muddy waters.” His face bleak, he slapped his hat on his head and started to duck around her. “I shouldn't have come.”

“Nee.” She put out her hand to stop him. What was she doing? She pulled it back. Their gazes connected. He opened his mouth. She rushed
to speak first. “Hannah is hurting, maybe even more than Daed and Mudder. She feels responsible. And it's our fault. I know it's our fault. We need to find a way to reach her so she can heal and begin to move on.”

“The way we have?”

“We're beginning to.”

He nodded, his gaze locked with hers. “You're right. Hannah's too young to understand that life does go on. That mistakes don't have to define your whole life.”

“God forgives and gives a person a second chance.”

“God forgives and so do we.”

“Hannah's not too young to understand God's grace.”

“We have to tell her. I have to tell her.” She brushed past him and paused in the doorway. “I'll close up and take the buggy after her. It's a long walk, too long. And the days are only getting shorter.”

He took the porch steps two at a time, then turned back. “I'm sorry if I've caused you more trouble by being here.”

“I'm glad you came.” The words came as a surprise, even as she said them. “We will figure out a way back.”

“We will, won't we?” His wonderment at the thought lighted his face and Phoebe saw an inkling of the man he would become. The man who would be her husband someday. The thought lifted her up until she felt as if her body floated off the ground. “We'll do it together.”

“We'll figure it out.”

He climbed on to his horse, reins in his hands, then looked down at her. “Talk to you later then.”

It was a promise. “Talk to you later.”

She made quick work of closing the school, hopped in the buggy, and headed for home, sure she would see Hannah along the road. The sun hung on the horizon, forcing her to shade her eyes with her hand as she scoured the countryside for the dark blue of her sister's dress.

Nothing. Where had she gone? Phoebe slowed her pace even more until Roscoe whinnied in an aggravated complaint. He surely wanted to be home in the corral enjoying his oats as much as she wanted to be eating her supper, finishing her chores, and climbing into her bed.

“Hannah, where are you?” A chill climbed Phoebe's spine and
tickled her neck. Her sister hadn't been herself for so long, but surely she wouldn't do anything to upset Mudder. “Hannah, come on, let me give you a ride!”

No high, childish voice called back to her. Dread coursing through her, Phoebe shouted her sister's name louder and louder. She didn't want to return home—couldn't return home—without her sister. Mudder would worry and Daed would want to know why she'd done this again. She'd have to tell them what had happened. She bowed her head.
God, not again. This is different. It is. It's different. Please help me find Hannah.

She pulled the buggy to a halt and squeezed in front of its roof so she could stand. Nothing but brush and trees and then fields of winter wheat and rye. “Hannah!” She wanted to stomp her foot and scream. But she didn't. Grown women didn't do that. “Hannah, please come out and we'll ride home together. Please!”

Michael's horse trotted into view. He waved at her and waited until he was close enough for her to hear before he spoke. “She's not on the road. She's not at the house.”

“You went to my house?”

“I did.” He slowed and pulled up next to her buggy, then halted. “I spoke with your daed.”

“You did?”

“I told you, I've changed. I'm not letting you go through anything by yourself anymore.” He turned the horse so he faced the same direction as the buggy. “You're in this predicament because of me.”

“What did Daed say?”

“He said to come home. Your mudder wants you with her. Your daed and I will look for Hannah.”

She found it hard to comprehend. He had changed. So had her Daed. They'd been honed by the events of the past summer, their character burnished to a smooth golden sheen by tragedy. They'd gone through the fire and emerged on the other side.

Phoebe snapped the reins and followed Michael home.

Chapter 40

H
er stomach roiling, head aching, Katie stared out the door, her hand on the screen, waiting. She peered out at the yard and the meadow beyond, her hand up to shield her eyes from the sun now waning in the west. No Hannah trudged along the road toward the house. How could she do this to them? The child was selfish. No, she was hurting. Katie wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She did neither. She waited, her back to Silas and to Elam. She could hear her youngest son's boots smacking on the wood floor as he paced. Elam never said much. He reminded her so much of Silas. Solid, steady, unflinching. Yet he paced. Hannah's decision to run off now, after all that had happened, was getting to him too.

“You might as well sit. You're doing no good standing there.” Silas touched her arm. She turned to look up at him, led by his tender tone. A tone he reserved for her only. He tucked his arm into a coat and pulled it on. “Hannah's fine. She's a stubborn girl who needs to grow up.”

Careful to keep her aching arm close to her side, Katie nodded. “You think that's so easy to do?”

“I know it's not. For none of us. But Phoebe is doing her best to make amends. Even I can see that.” Taking advantage of Elam's turned back as he paced toward the kitchen, Silas placed his rough, callused hand on her cheek. His eyes were blue pools of emotion. “You were right.”

“About what?' She put a hand to her mouth, afraid she'd lose her lunch right there in the front room. The bitter, metallic taste was back. “I haven't been right about anything in a long time.”

“I want Phoebe to have a chance at what we've had—what we have.” He tugged her against him in a quick, fierce hug. “If that means Michael, so be it.”

“So be it.” She nodded, aware of a familiar tingling sensation working its way up her arm and into her chest. Fatigue threatened to overwhelm her. “Right now, I just want my girls home.”

“Michael is bringing Phoebe here. I'm headed out to find Hannah. I'll give her a good talking to when I find her. Don't you worry about that.”

“I want to come too.” Elam spoke up, his teenage voice cracking. “I'll take the sorrel.”

“Nee, you should get back in the field.”

“With Hannah out there—”

“If we don't get that fence mended, we'll lose the hogs to coyotes for sure. I'll not let this foolishness cause us more problems. I'll deal with Hannah.”

Katie had no doubt. She wouldn't want to be in Hannah's shoes when Silas found her. A curious weakness invaded her body. She tottered to the chair and eased into it, glad Sarah was taking an unusual late afternoon nap. She wouldn't want to sleep tonight, but right now, Katie needed a minute to rest.

“They're here.” Silas opened the screen door and bounded out. “Stay where you are. I'll send Phoebe in.”

Ignoring her husband's words, Katie struggled to her feet and trudged to the door. Phoebe slipped up the steps and strode across the porch. “I can't believe she didn't come home. How could she do this to you and Daed?”

His expression dark, Elam slapped his hat on his head and barged through the door. “I'll be in the hog pen.”

“Elam!” Phoebe whirled as if to follow him. “I had no idea she'd run off.”

“Some of us are still grieving.” He let the door slam.

“Hannah's not herself. Don't worry about Elam. He's just like your Daed.” Katie backed away.

Phoebe took Elam's place in the pacing department. She seemed beside herself with pent-up energy. “Michael said she heard the two of you talking.”

“Jah. She did. She was angry.”

“Are you…Did you and Michael work things out?”

“Hannah's gone and you're thinking of me and Michael.”

“Hannah will be found. I have faith in that.” As she said the words, Katie realized they were true. God would not do this to her again. Not so soon after Lydia. And Hannah wasn't four. She was twelve, with a good head on her shoulders when she chose to use it. She'd lived here long enough to know her way around. She'd be fine—until Silas got ahold of her. “She'll be found, and your father will deal with her.”

“Michael and I talked. He talked mostly and I listened.”

“And?”

“And we'll be all right. God willing.”

“I'm glad for that.”

So was she. Glad and grateful and yet uncertain. Katie took a breath, fighting the trembling that shook her. The air around her seemed to heat up despite the cold wind that wafted through the open door. The furniture blurred. Phoebe's face blurred, her features dissolving as if she'd walked into a fog or a sudden cloud of smoke. A terrible pain shot through Katie's arm and drilled its way into her chest. In agony, she wrapped herself in her arms and doubled over. “
Ach, ach
, Phoebe, I can't…”

Her legs gave out and she collapsed. She rolled into a tight ball, aware only of the pain.

Phoebe's mouth moved, but Katie could hear nothing. Her daughter's voice receded into the distance, growing further and further away. She tried to reach for it, to grasp it in her hand, to pull herself toward it, but to no avail.

Gott, have mercy.

Phoebe rushed forward and sank to her knees. Her mudder's face had gone white. She curled into a tight ball, one hand gripping her upper arm. She moaned.

“What hurts?”

Mudder gasped and then went limp.

“Mudder? Mudder!”

No response.

Phoebe scrambled to her feet and raced out the front door, pounded down the steps, and hurled herself across the expanse of yard that went on and on. “Elam! Elam!”

Her bruder, clad in tall, black rubber boots, sloshed his way through the pen. “What are you hollering about? Did they find Hannah?”

“It's Mudder. She collapsed on the floor.” Phoebe fought for air, her words coming out in a stuttering mess. “Something's wrong. I think it's her heart.”

He broke into a run. One of the boots slipped off as he struggled across ground slick with mud from melting snow. He floundered, went down, and then pulled himself up.

“What do we do?” He threw himself over the fence and landed on one knee in front of her. “Do I find Daed?”