Anathema (22 page)

“When did this happen?”

“About an hour ago.”

“But Reece was here, terrorizing Hannah.” Unease rustled in his gut. What was going on? “Did you tell Hannah about her aunt yet?”

“Yeah.”

The screen door opened again. Hannah’s strained face was wet, but she held on to her composure. “I need to be with my family. They’ll be hurting about this. I’d like to go out first thing in the morning.”

“You all need protection. If we put you together in one place, maybe I can protect you all.” He wanted to tell her he was sorry about her aunt, but the words clogged his throat. She ’d already been through so much. When he finally got the condolences out, she turned and walked back inside. He knew she wasn’t about to let him see her grief.

sixteen

“The Tumbling Blocks Quilt is built piece by piece. It’s a picture of
how the Amish life is built around community.”

—HANNAH SCHWARTZ,

IN
The Amish Faith Through Their Quilts

H
annah could count the days, the weeks, the months, the years since she’d seen Luca’s crooked smile. Ten years, six months, eleven days. An eternity. Yesterday.

Tuesday morning, she sat in the car beside Asia and listened to the tick of the engine cooling. Could he really tear out his love for her, their past, like he pulled up the weeds in the garden? It seemed as though he had. He ’d been back for several days and hadn’t come to find her.

Maybe he was in the greenhouse. Oh, she was just making excuses. The fact was, he didn’t want to see her. If he did, he would have come to find her.

She should have talked to her aunt sooner. Now whatever Nora knew was lost for good. Hannah had thought she had time.

“Are we just going to sit here?” Asia asked. “Reconciliation doesn’t come unless you’re face-to-face.”

“It doesn’t matter. He ’ll do whatever the bishop says.” Hannah kept her eyes on the front door.
Please, Lord, let him come to greet me.
A useless prayer. God had forsaken her.

Dressed in an A-line skirt and a sleeveless surplice blouse of Asia’s, she felt like a child playing dress-up. And that was the way she wanted it. Maybe she could step outside herself, be someone else, someone who could handle the rejection. Someone who would laugh at the pain.

“Let’s go.” She shoved open her door and got out. A chicken fled from her feet, then turned and glared as if she were trying to steal the bug it had been after. She let Ajax out of the car. The dog’s presence always made her feel safer. The front door remained closed. The breeze ruffled her hair. No noise came from the open, screenless windows, but she sensed the family watched her from inside the house.

Asia was beside her. “Want me to go first?”

“No, I’ll go.” Hannah walked past the fragrant phlox and mounted the steps to the door. She rapped firmly on the screen door. The seconds ticked by with no one appearing. She knocked again, louder this time.

Asia’s fist thundered on the door when again no one came. “We ’re not going anywhere until we see Luca,” she called.

Hannah shot her a quick look. “He won’t respond to open anger.”

“He’s not responding at all right now.”

Hannah nodded. “He will.” She settled herself onto the top step and waited. Asia shrugged and did the same. A kitten crept near, and Hannah tapped her leg and cooed to the small feline. The scent of horse and hay from the barn blew on the wind.

She’d forgotten the stillness here. No whir of electric appliances, no cars. Just the peace of the past. If she closed her eyes, she could hear her mother’s laughter on the wind. The high sound of the wind in the trees could have been her father’s call for supper. She could sit here forever and remember.

Nearly fifteen minutes passed before the door creaked open and Sarah stepped out onto the porch. Caught at a disadvantage with her friend towering over her, Hannah scrambled to her feet and smoothed her skirt.

“I’d like to see Luca.”

“He’s in the greenhouse.” Sarah chewed on her lip and didn’t meet Hannah’s gaze.

“Thanks. I’ll be back. I’m going to have to stay here for a while.” Hannah didn’t wait for Sarah to answer. With the kitten leaping at her feet, she headed toward the greenhouse. She should have checked there first anyway, but she ’d been reluctant to enter and see Luca in her father’s place.

The fragrance hit her first. Floral scents from the roses by the door were punctuated with the undertones of earth and seasoned with the stink of fertilizer. The scent of childhood. As a kid, her job had been to deadhead the old blossoms. It seemed all her life she ’d tended to things too late.

“This is a little creepy,” Asia said from behind her. “It’s like you could turn around and get lost in here. Or find a dead body on the floor.”

Hannah smiled at her friend’s fears. This was home to her. “Luca?” she called. She walked the rows and examined the plants. Strong and healthy, they’d thrived under his care.

A head bobbed up by the tomatoes, and Luca turned to face her. He looked different. Older, more tired. Maybe it was just her imagination, but as she neared, she could swear she saw warmth toward her still lurking in his eyes. And at least he was looking at her instead of ignoring her as he ’d done at the funeral.

“Hannah.” His voice seemed a little thick. “You should not be here.” He glanced through the windows down the empty road.

“I had to see you, Luca.” The Amish people were not overtly demonstrative, though their love for each other ran deep. Love that cared enough to confront, to correct. And to wound when necessary. “You look . . . good.”

His gaze swept over her clothes, then back to her face. “Are you happy with this life you’ve chosen?”

Happiness. Hannah wasn’t sure she knew what that was. “I’m . . . content,” she said. “I have a good job, good friends.” She pulled Asia from behind her. “This is my friend Asia.”

Luca nodded to Asia. “It might have been better for you not to see our disagreement, miss.”

“She’s missed you every day she ’s been gone from here,” Asia said.

He flushed at the reproof in her voice. “It was her own choice.”

“We all make mistakes,” Asia said.

But not everyone’s mistakes resulted in calamity. “Let’s not talk about the past,” Hannah said. It would do no good to argue with him. “I need to talk to you, Luca. Explain what’s been going on.”

“I’m due back for lunch, but I’m afraid you can’t eat with us.” His voice broke.

Pariah. Anathema. The words pierced her heart. “I need your help.”

“Will you talk to the bishop?” he asked.

“I’ve already talked to him. I can’t come back. I think you know that. But I want to stay here. Me, Asia, and a deputy. We ’re all in danger, including your family. You know someone killed Moe and Aunt Nora. Whoever it is, he seems to be targeting our family. You or Sarah or your kids could be next. The sheriff can only spare one deputy. The detective in charge of the case thought we ’d be better off together, and there ’s not enough room for everyone where I was staying in town.”

“We accept whatever the Lord gives from his hand,” Luca said. “If God sends us heartache, it was meant to be.”

Though his coldness failed to move her, his fatalistic attitude caused her anger to flare. “The killer is evil. I won’t stand by and let evil have its way when we can prevent it.”

“God’s will be done. But in this case, I don’t believe we are targeted. You’ve changed, Hannah. It is as I expected.”

His thinly veiled contempt stung. “You have no idea where I’ve been or what I’ve endured. And you don’t need to know. But I won’t stand back and let you or your family be harmed. If I have to, I’ll sleep in the barn. But I’m not leaving.” She folded her arms over her chest.

Luca stared back at her without expression. “I must talk to the bishop. I’m a deacon now. I have responsibilities.”

A deacon. Hannah hadn’t heard. No wonder he held back. When those in the congregation strayed, he would be the first to gently persuade them to put away the thing that tempted them. He had to uphold the ban in public especially.

She put her hand on his arm. “We are kin, Luca. It isn’t that easy to just toss me aside.”

“You left
us
, Hannah.” His voice stayed calm and assured. “And we would welcome you back with open arms if you reconciled with your husband and he converted as well.” His intent gaze lingered on her face.

Hannah studied his face, the smooth cheeks above the long beard, the brown eyes that used to see everything, the worn hat covering his Dutch boy haircut. Sarah was taking good care of him. A tiny tear on his coat had been expertly mended.

In her sweep of his appearance, she almost missed the meaning of the way his Adam’s apple bobbed and the way he refused to look away from her gaze. He was trying to hide his emotions and doing a good job of it. If she didn’t know him so well, she might have even bought it.

This was as hard for him as it was for her. He didn’t want to turn her away. It was only for love that he was trying to do the right thing. His words came back to haunt her.
“We would welcome you back if you reconciled with your husband.”
Reece said he ’d converted. What if it was true?

“I’m going to get my things and bring them in,” she said softly. “You know as well as I do that you can’t deny me sanctuary here in my own home. I still own half this house, don’t I?”

Red crept into his cheeks. “Yes,” he admitted. “I always expected you to come back asking for money.”

“I thought you knew me better than that.”

“Reece . . .” He looked down at his black shoes. “You have more right to this property than I do.”

“Reece never pushed me to get the house. He didn’t want me to have anything to do with you. This is one thing that’s not his fault but mine. I’ll stay out of your way. I will not leave you, Luca.”

He sent her a pleading look from under his brows. “Please don’t endear the children to you.”

Ignoring them would be the hardest thing, but she nodded. Her cousins were darling, and she longed to scoop them onto her lap and tell them stories. She and Asia went to the car and hauled their suitcases to the house. Luca followed.

“I didn’t bring the cats yet,” she said. “I’ll get them later this afternoon.”

“Cats?” Luca asked.

“Four of them.” She flashed a smile up at him, but he looked away and said no more. “Where do you want us?”

He held the door open for them. “Your old room is now a guest room. I will have Naomi move her toys over to Sharon’s room. Wait a moment.” He left them standing in the kitchen with their suitcases and disappeared into a hallway. Moments later the heavy tread of his feet went up the steps.

Hannah heard Sarah’s voice murmuring, and she could sense the stress in it. Hannah believed that her presence would stop anything bad from happening. Maybe this belief was rooted in a misguided sense of her own control, but her instincts told her she had to be here.

MATT UNDERSTOOD THAT his minutes with Caitlin were drops of water draining through a sieve. Maybe that was fatalistic, but with Hannah showing no signs of leaving soon, it was only a matter of time before the truth came out. Matt wanted to hold his daughter close, treasure every moment.

Frogs bellowed from the creek, a song as mournful as Matt’s mood. He sat on the porch swing with Caitlin on his lap. Hannah wasn’t going anywhere until she ’d exhausted every avenue. All she had to do was show that picture to one other person at the jail, and the jig was up. He should see a lawyer to find out what he could do to avert a tragedy. No way would he abandon his daughter the way his mother had abandoned him. The swing swayed under them, and the gentle movement lulled him.

“Me and Aunt Gina went to visit Grandma Trudy today, and she never smiled at me. Why is she so grumpy, Daddy?”

Why indeed? He’d never figured it out himself. “She ’s had a hard life.”

“How come you don’t have a mommy and daddy? Trudy is your grandma, too, isn’t she? All the kids at preschool have two grandmas. I’ve only got one.”

She’d asked the question before, but Matt had always managed to put her off. “My dad died just like your mommy. My mom went away, princess.”

“Did your mom go away to heaven like my mommy?”

“No, she just went away.” He didn’t tell her that he ’d come home on his birthday to an empty house. He didn’t explain how he’d gone through the house calling her name. She didn’t need to know he’d fed himself and cried all night for three days until a neighbor called Child Protective Services. “I went to live with my grandma Trudy then.” Gina had been luckier. She ’d been staying with their aunt over spring break.

He tightened his grip around Caitlin. She would never feel abandoned while he had breath in his body.

“Maybe she’ll come back. I’d like to meet her.” Caitlin’s voice grew softer, and her eyes closed. Rhythmic breathing followed.

“I wish she’d come back too,” Matt muttered against his sleeping daughter’s hair. She didn’t often take a nap. He stood with her in his arms and carried her to bed. His sister was watching her afternoon soap opera. The TV flickered, but the sound was down so low he wondered how she could hear it. He tucked the covers around Caitlin and pressed a kiss against her hair before joining Gina in the living room.

“Sit down, Matt,” she said. “You’re keeping something from me. Work is always intense, but you’ve never asked me to keep Caitlin before. You know I love her, but I want to know what’s going on.”

The need to talk to someone, to confess, gripped him in a stranglehold. “Caitlin’s real mother is here in town looking for her.”

“Looking for her? What do you mean?”

He shook his head. “Her mother never gave up Caitlin. Someone stole the baby from her and gave her to us.” Almost too late, he caught back Reece ’s name. “We didn’t get her in the usual way. Analise heard something at the door, and Ajax was going crazy barking. She opened the door and found a newborn baby girl in a carrier.”

Gina pointed her finger at him. “You never told me all this. I only heard a baby had come through for you.”