Read Sisters of the Quilt Trilogy Online
Authors: Cindy Woodsmall
The touch of sarcasm struck a chord with the other women, and they giggled softly.
“Denke,”
Hannah replied before she opened the box, pulled out the first note, and read it:
Mary and Joseph never had sex while Mary was pregnant. Does that mean it’s wrong while pregnant? And if not, is it safe for the baby?
Wondering if the woman who’d written the question was in the room or if the question had been put into the box earlier in the week by someone who wasn’t here today, Hannah set the paper to the side and grabbed a needle and thread.
That was one of the nice things about being here: they didn’t expect an immediate answer, just an accurate one. Although she was more comfortable answering the medical question than the moral ones, the mixture of the two was the norm, and she was glad the women trusted her enough to ask. Whether they agreed with her answers or not, she didn’t know.
She drew a deep breath, enjoying the aroma of the fairly new rough-hewn planking some of the husbands had installed over the dirt floor. The potbellied stove gave off the perfect amount of heat, making the place feel more like a kitchen than a slightly remodeled outbuilding. After the men installed the floor and wood stove, the women helped her clean the place from top to bottom and add some shelving. It was a perfect place to counsel young brides-to-be, women entering menopause, and those who needed medical advice but didn’t want to ask Dr. Lehman. And odd as it seemed, it was here that Hannah fit in best.
“Mary was to conceive and give birth as a virgin, so …”
The midnight November air was nippy as Matthew walked from the Yoders’ barn toward the road. Voices and laughter echoed from the barn as the games continued. The antics of his friends were amusing, but Elle had never shown up. He knew Elle was safe somewhere inside her Englischer life. She wasn’t here because something came up or she forgot or …
He had a catalog of emotions banked. Fear was the first one—fear of what was happening to them. He did not want to lose her. Sure they had things to work through. Every couple did.
The barn doors swung open wide as friends of Luke and Mary cheered. They strolled out, Luke laughing and Mary blushing visibly even in the dark night. Mary’s hand was clasped in Luke’s as they headed for Mammi Annie’s house. It would be their honeymoon place. That way they’d be right here when it came time to finish cleaning everything tomorrow. They were going to live with Mammi Annie and keep renting the apartment to the Millers. It made the most sense. Mammi Annie’s was close enough for Luke to walk to work and go home for lunch, much like he’d been doing for the past nine months.
“Matthew?” Luke called.
Matthew jogged over to him. “Hey.”
“What are you doing wandering around out here?”
Matthew ignored the question and chose to tease. “I’ll expect to see you bright and early tomorrow for work, right?”
Luke pushed against his shoulder. “You can expect it all you want. I ain’t coming in until Friday.”
Matthew laughed. “Since you’ll not be shaving that huge, ugly face of yours anymore after tonight, you should have plenty of extra time for work. Keep him straight, Mary. Don’t let him get all lazy on us now that he’s king of something besides a shop attic with a bed.”
Luke put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “Mary has enough integrity to keep us both straight.”
Mary’s smile disappeared.
Luke squeezed her shoulders. “Tell him, Mary.”
A look of discomfort crossed her face before she smiled at him. Matthew figured she was having a bit of prehoneymoon jitters.
“Ya,” she whispered.
“Well, good night.” Luke waved and directed Mary toward Mammi Annie’s place. “You are going to keep watch on the place and make sure no one pulls any pranks, ya?”
“Absolutely.” Matthew nodded before he shook his head. “Not.” The three of them laughed. “If you want no pranks pulled, be vigilant yourself.”
Luke opened the door for Mary, muttering about the difficulties of having Matthew Esh as a partner.
The camaraderie between Luke and Mary made him miss his girl even more, and he wondered when his and Elle’s friends would get to prank their wedding night.
H
annah tapped her pen on the form in front of her. It was an application for a loan for nursing school. The entrance exam wasn’t until next week, but she needed to make sure she had funding before she took the exam. If she borrowed money, she’d probably be the first in her family for hundreds of years back. In this case the idea of being the first at something wasn’t consoling.
But that was only part of what was bothering her—a large portion, to be sure. The real snag, however, seemed to be that if she took this step, she was locking her life into a definite path for the next two years.
Two years?
Zabeth crossed the room one slow thump at a time. Her frame had a little more weight on it than when Hannah had arrived nine months ago, but the heart condition caused a lot of swelling as her body fought for oxygen. She eased into the kitchen chair across from Hannah and set her cane to the side. “You’ve been in that chair for nearly two hours, Hannah-girl, and you’re not one little dot further than you were before you sat down, are you?”
Rolling the pen between her hands, Hannah sighed. “I … I’m not sure about taking out a loan.”
Zabeth folded her arms on the table. “We have other sources. I still have some money put back. You’re more than welcome to all I got. Vince, Faye and Martin’s dad, would give or loan money gladly, and he’d not miss it any more than dropping a penny on the ground. Martin doesn’t have money like his dad, but he could pass you the ten thousand you need without it making much difference to him.”
Hannah thought about Zabeth’s offer, but it just affirmed that the loan wasn’t what was bothering her. So what was the problem?
“Hannah-girl?”
Hannah stared at the forms. “Hmm?”
“What ails you?”
“Luke and Mary’s wedding was today. I read about it in
The Budget
a few weeks back.”
“I didn’t realize you were reading the Amish-Mennonite newspaper.”
Hannah shrugged. “Dr. Lehman subscribes to it, and I …”
Zabeth reached across the table and placed her hands over Hannah’s. “It hurts to miss the events of loved ones. I know.” Zabeth’s swollen and slightly blue fingertips rubbed Hannah’s hand. “Is that all that’s bothering you?”
She brushed Zabeth’s hands before pulling away. “Remember me telling you about Paul?”
“Yes.”
She pushed the papers away from her. “While I was at a hotel the night before my trip here, I called his apartment. Some girl answered and promised she’d give him the message and phone number. I was in that hotel all night and half the next day, waiting for him to call me back.” She tapped the end of the pen on the table, slid her fingers down it, and flipped it over.
“And now you’re not sure he got the message.”
“I shouldn’t care. I know that. He deserted me, no questions asked. He took all the money from the bank. He …” Hannah sighed. “Oh, I don’t know.”
“I do.” Zabeth slid the cell phone from its spot on the kitchen table toward Hannah. “You should call him. Be sure he got the message. See if he had a reason you weren’t aware of for moving your money from that account. Find out if what you had was real or if you’d do better to build a life here.”
“But you need me.”
“Oh, Hannah-girl. I love you, but Vince Palmer would hire round-the-clock nurses if I asked. I want you here. But I don’t need you. And now that we know each other, you could come back to visit anytime.”
Although her words sounded nice, Hannah doubted if Zabeth had ever directly asked for anything from Vince, Faye, or Martin. Still, she couldn’t see arranging her life to be fastened to payments and schooling for the next two years without making sure how Paul felt.
“He’s always at his grandmother’s the day before Thanksgiving, helping her get packed to go to his parents’ place in Maryland.”
Zabeth brushed her unruly, curly locks of black hair away from her face. “That’s just next week.”
“What if he really doesn’t want anything to do with me?”
“Then you’re no worse off. You can’t wonder the rest of your life if you left too soon. I knew I hadn’t. Remember, I told you I stayed for a long time even after being shunned. I knew for sure when I left everyone behind, Hannah. Do you?”
“I’m pretty sure.”
“But not positive.”
“I don’t know if I can stand being rejected by Paul a third time.”
“Third?”
“The night he left, when he never returned my call, and now this.”
“I thought you were ready to move on without ever looking back, and I quote, ‘to the likes of Paul Waddell again.’ ”
“I was … I mean, I am …” Hannah paused, unable to understand the multitude of emotions assaulting her. Paul had betrayed her, yet here she sat, longing for life to be different. Still longing for him.
Zabeth gave an understanding nod. “You’ll find he doesn’t have the power to hurt you as badly this time. It’s the way things work with loved ones. The question is, who are you, Hannah Lapp Lawson? A young woman too afraid to find out the truth? Or a young woman who’d rather suffer the hurt and be sure of her path?”
Hannah laid the pen on the forms and set them to the side. “There’s a lyric in one of the songs you sing with the band. It says when we wind up lost and alone, that’s when we find ourselves … or something like that.”
“Close enough for now. And I think that’s true. Bumps and hard places make us both find and face ourselves.”
She knew she’d rather suffer humiliation and hurt than hide from her destiny. And she had eight days to find the courage and the right words. The sun was rising as Matthew rinsed the razor under hot water and stared at himself in the mirror while shaving. Luke would be shaving only part of his face today—his mustache area and his high cheeks, that’s all. He’d grow the beard that told all the world he was married. Aching to be in that position, Matthew wondered about his own future.
Through the closed window, he heard a car horn toot. He lifted the green shade and peered out.
Elle
.
He wiped the shaving cream off his face, pulled his suspenders on, and finished buttoning his shirt. When he came out of the bathroom, his Daed was putting on his housecoat as he came out of the bedroom.
“It’s Elle, Daed.”
His Mamm eased around his father, dressed and weaving a straight pin into her hair and Kapp. Concern showed in her eyes in spite of the motherly smile on her face. “I’ll have breakfast ready in twenty minutes if you want to invite her to stay.”
Grabbing his coat off the rack, he answered, “We’ll see.” He slid it on and buttoned it as he went down the steps and out the front door.
His first glimpse of Elle was not reassuring. She had on blue jeans and a red coat.
She came toward him. “I’m sorry, Matthew. You gotta believe me. I intended to be here.”
“What happened?”
She placed her palms over the breast of his coat. “Don’t be mad, please?” She tilted her head, half flirting and half pleading.
“I’ll ask again, what happened?”
She played with the button on his jacket. “See, this fantastic opportunity to assist at a photo shoot came in. And I thought I’d be done in time to get here by midafternoon.”
“You said you’d be here by noon.”
“I know, but …” She pulled her coat tighter around her. “Can we talk in your shop?”
“Sure.” He signaled toward the shop, and she turned to walk with him.
They took several steps before she stopped in midstep. “Wow, Matthew. We never made it by here the last time I was home. Look at the additions to your shop. They’re amazing.”
“We created each shop like a separate building, but they all have either a doorway or covered walkway into the old shop. More like a minicomplex.”
She laughed. “A minicomplex? That’s a bit too fancy for the Plain life, isn’t it?” She grabbed his hand and ran toward the closest building. “Come tell me all about them.”
Matthew allowed her the change of topic and showed her each shop and the stacks of orders that kept coming in.
She ran her hand along a row of shelves filled with handmade buggy parts for all the fancy carriages the Englischers were ordering. “Sometimes when you’re talking, it’s like you’re not the same guy who fell off the roof of the schoolhouse the day we met.”
Matthew propped against the workbench. “Nor do you look like the Amish teacher I met.”
She glanced at her clothing. “I know.” She moved in closer. “I hate that I missed yesterday. I’d looked forward to it for weeks. It’s my fault. I thought I could squeeze everything in. I drove to Pleasantville, New York, for a photo shoot.”
“You drove to New York? How long did that take?”
“About four hours. I assisted at a formal wedding and didn’t finish until too late to get here.”
Matthew wished he knew what to think, wished he could see into their future and know if he was waiting for her to return or if he was playing the fool. He hoped for the first one, but he was beginning to think the second one was laying a trap for him.
Elle walked to him and stood just inches away. “I know you’re not pleased with much of anything about us right now.” She looked into his eyes. “But try to see this from my point of view. You get to do this business for the rest of your life, but once I become a wife and mother, stretching my wings is over, Matthew. I look forward to that time—I do. But I need you to understand that you’re learning new things and using all your passion to pursue what you want without limits. It’s not like that for women, Amish or Englischer. I’ve found something I can hold in my heart and know for the rest of my life I was really good at it. And I’m hoping you’re the kind of man who can understand my needs.”
“It makes little sense that your father asked for six months, and ya offer to give him a year and a half.”
“He’s changing, Matthew. His heart is becoming more tender toward you and me as I stay longer.”
“Sid is gettin’ just what he wanted to begin with, so of course he’s becoming more pleasant. Ignoring that, what’s happening with us is because of your choices. You’re the one who picked going to photography school. You’re the one staying so busy that your letters are just plain-out sparse.”
“Yeah, okay, but look at it this way. I missed this year’s instruction because my dad wanted time with me. There isn’t one next year, so our plans have to follow the schedule laid out by the community. All that’s different is I’m not living here while the time passes. That’s all.” Her warm hands surrounded his face. “Wait for me, Matthew. Give me my time now, and I’ll give you the rest of my life.” She placed her lips over his.
Every frustration melted, and Matthew wrapped his arms around her, making up for every kiss he’d missed while she’d been gone. Slowly he pulled away. “I’ll wait.” He sighed. “But you knew that before you arrived, didn’t you?”
Her eyes clouded with tears. “I hoped. You won’t regret it. I’ll make it up to you … if we have to have eight children.”
Matthew laughed. “Girls or boys?”
“Yes.” She gave him a quick kiss. “How was the wedding?”
“Luke and Mary both glowed. I bet their Christmas present to each other next year is their firstborn child.”
“Well, we can’t match that, not by next Christmas anyway.”
Matthew reached behind her and tugged her ponytail. “I guess I can understand your need to do a few things before the childbearing begins. Just visit more often.”
“That’s not a good idea, and you know it. Your family is almost as tolerant as the Zooks, but I’ll not traipse in and out and tax your parents’ tolerance before I join the family.”
Matthew didn’t like it, but he knew she was right. Because of her heritage, they’d accept her as an Englischer friend or as an Amish prospective wife, but she couldn’t maintain regular visits while living in both worlds at the same time.
“Ya, I guess you better save that taxing my parents’ thing until after we’re a couple. Just don’t take too long out there among the Englischers, okay?”
“I won’t. I’ll be living here by next fall. Promise.”
That seemed so far away. “Mamm invited you to breakfast.”
“I picked up drive-through on the way here.” She glanced at her watch. “I’m going to be late opening Dad’s store if I don’t skedaddle.” She grabbed his hand. “Walk me to my car.”
Drive-through?
Matthew walked with her, trying to shake off his discomfort at the gaping differences that separated them. All he could do was hope the canyon didn’t grow so wide a bridge couldn’t be built.