Sisters of the Quilt Trilogy (84 page)

Unable to resist, he slowly kissed her cheek several times, breathing in the aroma of everything that made him connect to life in a way that work and financial success couldn’t match. He eased his lips across her warm, soft skin until he found her lips. “I love you, Hannah.”

M
atthew lit a kerosene lantern and carried it with him as he descended the stairway to the ground floor of his home. The rooster crowed loudly, even though the first rays of light weren’t yet visible. Thunder rumbled in the distance as the sound of a gentle rain against the windows kept rhythm with the grandfather clock in the hallway. He set the lantern on the coffee table and laced his black boots.

Muted sound and movement in the dark kitchen caught his attention. Once he finished the last knot, he grabbed the lamp and headed toward the sound.

When the lantern cast its glow across the room, Kathryn’s attention turned from the stove. “Hey, I didn’t wake you, did I?”

He shook his head and set the lantern on the table. “What are you doin’ up?”

“Same as you, I suppose. Can’t sleep.” She wiped her hands on a dishtowel and laid it across her shoulder. “What is it about death that disrupts everything to do with life—hunger, sleep, clear thought?”

Matthew eased into a chair. Kathryn wrapped a potholder around the handle of the coffeepot that sat on the eye of the gas stove. She lifted the pot, silently asking if he wanted a cup. He shook his head, uninterested in food or drink.

She poured herself a cup, dumped some sugar and milk into it, and took a seat across from him. “It’ll get easier, Matthew. You have to trust in that, even as these days carry enough pain and guilt to make you believe otherwise.”

It was nice to sit in a quiet room with someone who understood. She’d been the only person to acknowledge his sense of guilt. If she hadn’t, he might not have understood the thing that seemed to cover him with blame so thick he thought he’d suffocate.

Unable to tolerate the back of the chair touching him, Matthew propped his forearms on the table. “I saw Hannah night before last. She said to tell ya hello.”

Kathryn smiled. “I remember seeing her at the annual school sales when we were kids, but I bet I haven’t seen her in six or so years. How is she?”

“Different.”

“Aren’t we all.” It wasn’t a question, and Kathryn was right. She wrapped her hands around the coffee mug. “We dress and live the same basic way as our ancestors, and yet the changes and temptations that war inside us must rival that of the Englischers.”

The softness of her voice, her hope laced inside truth caused Matthew to feel something beyond his confusion for a moment. “But I always thought our sense of community and devotion to the simple life gave us the strength to resist the temptation to doubt or give up.”

“And now you’re not sure it does?”

Matthew ran his hands across the well-worn oak table his greatgrandfather had built. “Can I ask you a question?”

She gazed into his eyes, and he noticed for the first time the golden radiance to her brown eyes. “Always.”

Feeling welcome to be himself and to share the tormenting thoughts that ripped at him, he was grateful she’d agreed to stay on for a while. “What happened that day on the pond, and how did ya cope?”

Slowly her hands crossed the table, and she slid them over his, assuring him she’d answer in a few moments. After a bit she withdrew her hands and rose from her chair. In spite of his declining coffee a few minutes ago, she poured him a cup.

After setting it in front of him, she took a seat and placed the pot on a folded dishtowel on the table. “Abram and me and Daed had been at the pond since before sunrise, catching fish and singing loudly because the harvest was over and we were in the mood to play. Daed was sitting on the dock, and me and Abram were in a dinghy in the middle of our acre pond.” She paused, turning the mug around and around as if lost in the memory. “Abram was being silly, rocking the boat while I screamed like a girl.”

Matthew laughed softly. “Females tend to do that … sound like a girl.”

“They both thought it was funny.” A smile edged her lips. “The water sparkled, and their laughter echoed. And then everything changed. Green, murky water surrounded me. The boat had tipped, dumping out both of us. I didn’t even know which way was up until I saw Abram’s feet kicking near the surface of the water. I swam that way, feeling like my lungs would burst before I reached the top. I came to the surface coughing and struggling to get air. He was screaming for me to help him. Daed was on the dock, peeling out of his shoes and screaming for me to swim for the dock.” She paused. “I headed for Abram, and Daed screamed my name, pointing his finger at me. He said, ‘You obey me this instant!’ And I did. He dove into the water, but by the time he got to Abram, he’d gone under, and Daed couldn’t find him until it was too late.” She lifted her gaze and stared into Matthew’s eyes. “While I was making my way to the dock and Daed was swimming out to him, Abram called to me over and over again. There I was, a twelve-year-old girl, flailing in the water, trying desperately to get to the dock so my Daed wouldn’t be mad at me.” She rubbed the temples of her head as if it hurt. “I hated myself for a long time, wishing …” She took a sip of her coffee, looking lost in pain.

“You know why your Daed wouldn’t let you go after him, don’t ya?”

She wiped a tear and nodded. “I do now, but I didn’t for a long time. I just remember crawling in my Daed’s lap every day for months, crying until I couldn’t cry any longer. He just held me, assuring me Abram was in heaven, happy and safe, but it was years before I understood that my parents would have buried both of us had I disobeyed.” She drew a deep breath. “I think they thought I was traumatized enough without telling me I would have died too. But it seems that in the end all that matters is finding a way to survive the grief and trusting in the goodness of life beyond the pain.” She clasped her hands together, staring at them. “You did your best to save David. You were a good and kind brother. What else could be done?”

Matthew nodded, but he still hadn’t found the answer to the question that haunted him—how to find
his
way out of the dark hole that surrounded him.

Maybe no one could answer that, but it seemed it was time to go to Baltimore and see if it held any peace or distractions for him. “I’d appreciate if you could stay here helping Mamm while I’m in Baltimore for a few days, a week at most.”

“I … I can …”

“But?”

“My Daed’s been asking me to come back home since before the fire. I could stay for a week, but he’s right; my family is there. When the Bylers’ barn burned, I came here to help them because they’re our cousins. And … Joseph’s patience with me being here is growing thin.”

He barely gave a nod.

Her fingers touched the back of his hands. He looked up. “Go. Find some peace and strength. I’ll stay until you get back.”

“I figure I just need a few days.”

H
annah laid the quilt to the side and wriggled her hands into a pair of medical gloves. In spite of the clinic having electricity, only kerosene lamps were used until time for delivery. It gave the place a homey feel the women appreciated.
“Es wunderbaar Bobbeli iss glei do.”
Making small talk in soothing tones was important to moms in labor, so Hannah encouraged Lois that her wonderful baby was almost here.

Sweat trickled down Lois’s thirty-something face as she moaned through another round of labor pains.
“Net glei genunk!”

“Ya.” Hannah moved to the foot of the birthing bed. Lois was right—not soon enough. It was her fifth child, and labor had begun nearly sixteen hours ago. According to her chart, Lois always had slow, methodical labors. She’d been in labor for several days with her first child.

While Hannah waited for the contraction to ease so she could perform a pelvic exam, Snickers meowed from somewhere outside.

The lines across Lois’s face relaxed as the last of the pain subsided. “If that cat’s up a tree again, it’d be awfully entertaining to see you go after it … like you did before.”

The memory made her laugh. “Lois, that has to be the most legendary Tuesday quilting to date—Amish women poking fun at me while I climbed a tree to rescue a cat. But it’s too cold and too dark out there this time.”

Lois went almost limp against the pillow, relaxing. “I remember you climbing that tree, hanging that cat over the outstretched sheet us women were holding out. Then when you released it, it plunged through the air, screeching, claws out.” She started laughing. “Mercy, Hannah, in one way or another you’ve been a blessing since you started working here.”

“Denki.” Hannah raised one eyebrow, dishing back some of the teasing Lois was giving. “Take a deep breath and hold it. I just want to see if it’s time to call Dr. Lehman.”

“Surely it is.”

Hannah checked Lois’s cervix and nodded. “I think so.” She removed the gloves, washed her hands, and went to the phone.

Although labor had been a long ordeal, interrupting Hannah’s Sunday with Martin, she and Lois had made good use of their time, even working on Lois’s half-done log cabin star quilt. The pattern was Lois’s favorite, and so far she’d made one for each of her children—only this time she was months behind in finishing it. If Lois wasn’t so set against getting an epidural for pain, she’d probably have the baby in her arms by now. An epidural often relaxed a woman, and the contractions were able to do their job faster.

Hannah had been here part of yesterday and all night, which meant after Lois gave birth in the next hour or two, she’d have to sleep, then study, and then attend Monday night classes before getting home close to midnight.

The hayfields disappeared from sight as the view turned into asphalt, glass, and steel.

Baltimore
.

As they drove toward the city at sixty miles per hour, Matthew watched the scenery, hoping the gloominess that’d taken over his mind and heart would lift. Haze covered the sprawling skyline of buildings, warehouses, and factories with their large stacks filling the sky. Billboards lined the side of the freeway, advertising phones, trucks, gyms—call now, buy now, things and more things. They crossed a huge concrete-and-steel bridge into an area of high-rise buildings butting against stretches of multilane roads. Not particularly feeling the excitement Elle said he would, he turned to face his driver.

“Been here before, have ya, Nate?”

“A few times. My wife loves the National Aquarium, though we haven’t been in a while. If you get a chance to go, they might have the sea otters—well, I think they’re otters, or maybe they’re sea lions—that are outside for everyone to see. Though that may only happen in the summer. Either way, I think you’ll enjoy visiting there if you have a chance.”

The massive structures did look a little interesting. Nate maneuvered the vehicle this way and that as the minutes rolled on and the view changed again. Long brick buildings with doors and windows that were similar to a home’s lined the street. Surely he wasn’t looking at some type of house.

“Row houses,” Nate said, as if he’d read Matthew’s mind.

On second look some had a hint of homeyness to them with curtains in the windows and flowers in window boxes. Others had paint peeling around the trim. As they continued down the street, they passed a section of brick buildings where the lower windows and doorways were sealed with cinder blocks while the upper windows looked like a fire had consumed the insides of the buildings. Across the street three middle-aged women sat on the steps of one house, talking. Parked cars lined the street, leaving two lanes for traffic between them. A young woman in a tight, short dress and a snug leather jacket paraded down the street in high-heeled, shiny boots while pushing a stroller.

Nate pulled up to a curb. “This is it.” He put the truck in Park and set the brake.

Matthew stepped out of the vehicle, seeing a few well-placed trees amid concrete and brick everything. The three-story brick place with fancy molding along the cornice looked more like a sardine inside a can—packed in tightly—than a home.

Nate opened the lockbox in the bed of his truck. “You’re gonna stick out a bit here unless you get rid of the hat and suspenders.”

“More than that girl we passed awhile back?”

Nate pulled out the sacks with Matthew’s clothes. “You’ll see women dressed in a lot more and a lot less before your week’s up.”

Elle bounded out the door and down the steps. “You’re here and right on time too.”

Matthew nodded. “We’re here. That’s true enough.”

She tilted her head. “Can I have a hug?”

“An easy one.” He put his arms around her and hugged her, glad his skin wasn’t near as sore to touch as it had been. As he took a step back, a tall man wearing a black suit and a fitted hat covering only the crown of his head passed by.

“Nate thought I’d stick out.”

Elle glanced at the man. “Nah, if it exists in the world, there will be traces of it here.”

Her comments seemed odd, considering things she’d said about needing to wear certain Englischer clothes during her time here, but he didn’t want to question or challenge her on it right now.

The half-dressed woman pushing the stroller came toward them.

Elle tugged on Matthew’s shirt. “After the shock wears off, you’ll find it easy to enjoy.”

Nate passed Matthew the two large paper bags carrying his clothes. “I need to go. Told Kathryn I’d be back to pick her up by two.”

Matthew shifted the full bags, wondering if he’d brought too many clothes. “Where’s she needing ya to take her?”

“My place. With your phone not in working order, the missis invited her to use ours. Kathryn said she needed to use a phone and desk for business of some type. She said the Bylers’ phone shanty is too limiting.”

Matthew gave a nod. The phone lines in his shop were destroyed. Without the status of operating a business, the bishop wasn’t going to approve having a phone shanty put in. But he didn’t know what possible business Kathryn could be up to.

Matthew put the sacks on the sidewalk and paid Nate. “Monday morning at eleven. I’ll meet ya right here—”

“Actually …,” Elle interrupted, “why don’t you just call him when you’re ready to leave? I have a phone. He has one. It’s easier, and I was hoping you might stay longer than just four or five days.”

“Longer?” Matthew studied her, wondering just what she was hoping for. “But I told Kath—”

“Okay.” She snapped the word, and her violet-colored eyes spit anger, reminding him how little patience she had with any other female being in his life. “You can leave Monday, but why don’t you call Nate to confirm rather than put it as a definite?”

“That works too.” Matthew slid the rest of his cash into his pant pocket, hoping it’d last him. But as he stood there, he began to unravel a few things about who he and Elle were together—a couple who’d never really had a chance to form an easygoing, enjoyable friendship. His time in Baltimore would help with that.

Nate closed the lockbox. “That’s fine. I’ll wait until I hear from you to make plans. Enjoy your time here.” He waved as he climbed into his vehicle.

Elle grabbed one of the sacks. “Come on. I have your room all ready.”

Looking at the tall, narrow, brick building, Matthew had to admit that the trip had already lessened the intensity of his grief. Maybe Elle was right—getting away might help.

They entered through the front door and walked up two flights of stairs before Elle stepped into a bedroom.

She set his bag of clothes on the bed. “This is yours for as long as you want it. When you’re ready, I have lunch made. I need to return to the bakery in an hour, but I was hoping you’d come with me, maybe help out since I have to work anyway. You could give our commercial ovens a try or run the counter. Dad said I could have off early tomorrow, so I’ll take you to the Inner Harbor and show you a view of the Chesapeake Bay and a hint of Baltimore’s nightlife. It’ll be fun.”

Lace curtains covered the window, a whirling fan with multiple lights hung from the ceiling, and a huge radio with even larger speakers sat on a white dresser. Feeling curiosity stir, Matthew placed the other sack of clothes on the bed. “Sounds like an interesting few days, Elle. I’m looking forward to it.”

She smiled in a way he hadn’t seen in more than two years and kissed his cheek. “Thanks.”