Ties That Bind (12 page)

“Who's there?” Barbie sounded as if she was afraid those weren't the right words.

“Beets.”

“Are you serious?” She stared wide eyed, but his goal was to get her mind off the stress and danger, and he wasn't giving up.

With the breeching patched, he moved to the tug and began working with another small piece of leather. He couldn't see her from this spot. “You want to start from the beginning? Or pick it up from when I said ‘beets'?”

There was a long pause, and the girls whispered to each other again before he heard her faint voice. “Beets who?”

“Beets me.”

He heard one girl laugh—obviously Cilla, so he decided to try again. “Knock, knock.”

Barbie must've moved to the far side of the bench, because she was peering around the horse to see him. “Who's there?”

“Yacht.”

“Yacht who?”

“Yacht a know me by now.”

Cilla stifled a giggle.

“Abram?” Barbie sounded better, a little calmer.

He cut a thin piece of leather from the tug. “Ya?”

Barbie climbed down. “You're different tonight.”

“Am I?” He thought about it for a moment.

“Ya.”

She patted the horse's back, her hand trembling. “I'm not sure what would've happened if you hadn't come by when you did.”

“My part was a coincidence, so God gets the credit for the timing.”

“Seems odd, but”—Cilla got out of the wagon—“after all these years of knowing you, I'm still caught off guard by your kindness.” She looked at Barbie and shook her head, as if annoyed with her.

Barbie shrugged.

Rather than get caught between two feuding sisters, Abram decided to change the subject. “So what has you two in a hurry and in the boondocks?”

Neither girl responded, but Abram saw Cilla nudge Barbie with her elbow. When Barbie didn't speak up, Cilla did. “Our brother Eli needs a medicine that wasn't available at the closest pharmacy. We're returning home with it.”

That explained everything. Two of the Yoder siblings dealt with illness—Cilla and Eli. Sometimes, like today, Cilla seemed as strong as any other young woman, and then she'd be sick and unable to leave the house for a month or more. She had cystic fibrosis. Eli had asthma.

But it had taken him entirely too long to get this vital piece of information. If either girl had said something when they finally stopped the horse, Mr. Carver could've taken them home. Abram began removing the rigging from the horse. “Get the medicine out of the cart, and you can both ride home bareback.”

Barbie stroked the horse again. “We can't leave the cart. Someone could take it or damage it, and Daed needs it to make a living.”

Their Daed worked at a local market, and he made deliveries to Englisch shut-ins. This rig was lightweight and fast, so it was vital to her Daed's job. “I'll stay with the cart. Send your brother Matt back for it. I'll have the harness repaired by then.”

Barbie didn't move. “Cilla can't ride bareback. It's physically exhausting and can trigger issues with her breathing.”

Cilla's cheeks turned pink, but she looked more angry than embarrassed by what Barbie had said. “Sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. Barbie should go ahead, though.” He motioned toward the cart. “Go on, Barbie. Get the medicine.” While she did as he said, he rushed to get the unnecessary harness off, leaving the bridle and reins. She returned with the small white bag, and he intertwined his fingers and offered her a boost onto the horse.

She paused, seeming as if she had hundreds of words on the tip of her tongue. But she simply smiled and gave a nod of gratitude before she put her booted foot in his hands.

Was this incident more than just Abram being the closest person to lend a hand? Had God allowed him to be a part of it for a reason that might draw Barbie to him after all?

L
ovina tapped on the screen door of Rachel's home. The lack of horses at the hitching post could mean there weren't any women here today to deliver babies. She hoped so, because what had to be said needed privacy, and Lovina didn't think she could stand waiting one more day.

Isaac shifted. “Do you usually knock?”

“Nee. But since you are with me, I thought I would.” Lovina found that every word took effort. Shortness of breath had been a regular thing since Mark had brought home the flier.

“Kumm.” Rachel came into sight, carrying a basket of laundry. She smiled and motioned for them.

Isaac opened the door, and Lovina went in first.

Rachel set the laundry basket on the kitchen table. “What has you two coming by here? I know you're not with child again…right?”

Since Lovina was fifty-five years old, her days of having babies were long gone. It didn't make her sad exactly, but it did make her feel old. Some days it seemed as if the future, with its chaos and energy and special joys, belonged to the young people.

“Nee. Nothing like that.” Lovina reached into the bib of her apron and touched the well-worn flier. The more she considered the possibility that she had a daughter out in the world, the more she kept this flier close to her heart. Still, she prayed fervently, even when she was awakened in the middle of the night, that her imagination had come up with this nonsense. What would she do if she had a daughter out there somewhere? “Are there any expectant moms here today?”

“Nee. The place is quiet and empty.” Rachel went to the cabinet and grabbed two glasses. “Do you have time for some ice water or lemonade?” She set them on the counter and reached for a third.

“Not today.” Isaac folded his arms. “What do you remember—”

Lovina elbowed him. What? No lead-in? No softening of the subject so Rachel wouldn't feel they were questioning her integrity as a midwife?

Rachel turned, glass in hand. “You sure?”

“I'm sure.” Isaac glanced at Lovina, his expression reminding her that he was here for only one purpose—the truth.

“Rach.” Lovina's mouth was dry. Was it from the discomfort of putting her friend on the spot or fear of what they might find out? She glanced around. “Do you still like this new birthing center better than the other one?”

“Ya, sure. What's not to like?” Rachel moved to the sink and filled the glass with water. “You're here about the rumors of the out-of-wedlock pregnancy, aren't you?”

This was the first Lovina had heard of this rumor.

Isaac's face flushed, obviously offended by the question. “If we were in doubt about such a thing, we wouldn't come to you. We would talk to our sons and daughters.”

“Well, I can assure you it's not one of your girls, and the girl didn't mention your sons.” She took a sip of water.

Isaac looked more perturbed by the minute. These two, Rachel and Isaac, simply rubbed each other the wrong way.

Lovina inched forward, hoping her husband would take the hint and let her do the talking. “Rach,”—Lovina swallowed hard—“we've talked many times about the day you delivered our twins, recounting the fire and the craziness.”

“That we have.” She lifted the glass to her lips but then lowered it before taking a drink. “But why bring this up now?” Was that fear in her friend's eyes?

“Well,”—Lovina removed the flier from the bib of her apron—“what else do you remember about that day? Anything that we've never talked about?”

“I…I don't know what you mean. You were there. What's to tell that we haven't discussed?” She took a long drink, appearing to Lovina as if she was trying to hide behind the glass of water.

“True. But I was wondering if there was any possibility…” Lovina couldn't finish the question. It was too close to accusing Rachel of being negligent.

Isaac pressed his fingers against the table in front of him. “Is there any chance, any at all, that maybe the two girls were switched?”

Rachel choked on the water, not a normal cough that she'd get over easily. She put the glass on the counter, fighting for air, and lifted her hands above her head and paced the floor. Lovina glanced at Isaac, seeing as much accusation in his eyes as there must have been fear in hers.

Isaac paused for a few moments, probably giving Rachel time to catch her breath. Then he took the flier from Lovina's hand and strode toward Rachel. “We've learned there's a girl who looks remarkably like Salome. The girl is connected to this flier, and there is a woman in this flier named Brandi Nash.”

Rachel lowered her arms, still coughing and clearing her throat. “Ariana is yours. I'm sure of it.”

“How sure, Rach?” Lovina's voice trembled.

“Abram wouldn't hush crying until I put her in the bassinet with him. I know they shared the same womb.”

Lovina's world began to tilt. “Are you saying you were uncertain which girl was ours, and Abram hushing at the right time was the test?”

“No. I…I'm absolutely positive each girl went home with the right family, the family God intended.”

Isaac turned to Lovina. “Is it just me, or is she wording things on purpose so we can't be sure what she means?”

Lovina eyed her old friend, and upon reflection she realized what Isaac had heard. “I don't think it's you.”

He left the room and returned a few seconds later with a Bible in hand. He held it out. “Put your hand on the Bible, Rachel.”

“What? Why?”

Isaac thrust the Bible toward her. “Put your hand on it, and before God tell us that, to your knowledge, you're confident Ariana is the daughter Lovina gave birth to.”

Rachel stared at him for several long moments. She buried her head in both hands and sat in the closest chair. “I…I can't,” she whispered.

Lovina's emotions ran in every direction. Anger. Terror. Fear. Grief. What was she supposed to do with this information? It was too much. She had a hundred questions. A thousand shards of rage.

“How likely is it that they were switched?” Isaac asked.

Rachel didn't raise her head, but Lovina heard raspy breathing, as if she had been running. And maybe she had…for two decades. “I…I'm not sure.” She raised her head, looking at Isaac. “While you took the woman outside, I put her baby girl in the bassinet beside Lovina as she gave birth to a daughter. We had the girls separated, but then Lovina's water broke for a second time, and I realized there was another baby coming. We had to get out of the house because of the fire, and we put the girls in the same bassinet.”

“I don't recall the girls being put in the same crib.” Lovina's heart pounded as she grasped what Rachel was admitting to, and something Lovina had never felt before took hold of her—rage. “How could you go all these years and never tell me that part?” Lovina screeched, not recognizing her own voice. Whose emotions were these? “When I realized I had the wrong pink blanket, before Ariana was a year old, I came to you, and you promised me that I had nothing to worry about!” Lovina flew across the kitchen and smacked Rachel on the side of the head before her husband wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her back. Lovina struggled to get free. “We knew Brandi Nash's life was probably a train wreck! We talked about it!” Lovina swung her arms at Rachel, wanting to make contact. “What kind of disaster did you let my daughter grow up in?”

Her world went red.

The next thing Lovina noticed was the familiar
clippety-clop
of the horse's hoofs against the wooden boards of the covered bridge. How did they get here?

Isaac had one hand on the reins and one around her shoulders. She gulped in air. “What happened?”

“You don't remember?”

She shook her head.

“I think you blacked out from the rage.”

Lovina snuggled against her husband and broke into sobs. “How can this be happening? Why didn't we follow through on our fears…”

Isaac rubbed her arm sympathetically. “I don't know, but those aren't the right questions. We have to focus on the right ones.” His voice cracked, and when she looked up, there were tears in his eyes.

She sat upright, wiping her face. “Like what?”

“What does God want us to do from here? What do we tell Ariana? What do we tell our other children?”

Lovina didn't recall ever being angry or disappointed with God before. “He knew this situation the whole time, and He's allowed us to know it now. So I think the next decisions are up to us.”

Isaac nodded. “Seems reasonable.”

Lovina needed answers, but she didn't feel like praying. Still she longed to. How did anyone operate without prayer? How was she to talk to God when she felt betrayed by Him?

Isaac turned onto a narrow dirt road they hadn't been on in twenty years. He was meandering the back roads, giving them time and privacy. “We shouldn't say anything to Ariana, and we have to be sure no rumors get started.”

“What about Rachel?”

Isaac's jaw clenched. “I warned her not to speak of this to anyone, and she agreed. I don't think a woman who kept the possibility of this a secret all these years will begin talking about it now.”

How could Rachel have deceived her like this? The possibility that the girls had been switched had nagged both her and Isaac a few times over the years. Why hadn't they pursued it?

Lush branches swayed on a familiar huge oak on the creek bank, bringing back sweet memories. She and Isaac used to picnic under that tree. When courting, they would come here to talk without fear of being heard. A tiny fragment of thankfulness tugged at her heart. At least she had Isaac as she went through this, the one person who had been at her side since she was younger than Ariana, and apparently he loved her even when she blacked out with rage.

She put her arm through his. “Ya, without question we must keep this quiet, but I have to see her.” Beyond all the confusion and hurt, Lovina's gut told her she would know the next step once she saw her. “How would we locate the girl?” Using the word
girl
made her feel dirty somehow. If she was their daughter, she deserved a better term than
girl.

Isaac shook his head. “I'm not sure.”

“Does Rachel have records? A name, an old address, something?”

“All Rachel had was lost in the fire, and probably from the full panic of the night, Rachel's been unable to recall more than the woman's name.”

“Brandi Nash.” Even Lovina knew that much. Since that night at the birthing clinic, Lovina had prayed for her and her daughter…maybe
their
daughter. But Lovina hadn't been extremely consistent with her prayers. If she'd known the girl might be hers, she would've been much more faithful to pray.

Isaac grabbed the brim of his hat, adjusting it. “Because she was sent to the hospital, Rachel didn't have to file a birth certificate. The hospital did that.”

“Then we can go to the courthouse and search for babies born on that day, right?”

“Maybe. Is that what we're going to do? Two Amish people at the courthouse searching through birth records that match the day our twins were born?”

He was right, of course. It felt as if their hands were tied. No one would stick out as much as Amish people combing through government records. It just wasn't their way. But there had to be a solution.

Lovina gasped, grabbing her husband's arm as a name came to her. She shuddered. Surely not. She hated the idea, but the longer she thought about it, the more she knew it would work. “Quill Schlabach.”

“We need someone we can trust, and you think Quill is the answer?” He sounded baffled and angry.

“Apparently he's been able to sneak in and take a few single people and a whole family away without the slightest rumor giving forewarning. He knows how to plan and execute with no one being the wiser. We need that skill.”