Susanna's Dream: The Lost Sisters of Pleasant Valley, Book Two (12 page)

Chloe nodded, and they started plodding up the street side by side. They hadn’t gone more than half a block before an SUV pulled up next to them. The woman driving leaned across to the window.

“Hop in. I’ll take you where you need to go.”

Seth would have protested, but he suspected Chloe’s strength wasn’t going to hold up much longer. He nodded, and they climbed in the back. “Gaus’s store,” he said.

The woman nodded and pulled out. “There’s a cooler back there with juice and soda,” she said. “Help yourself.”

“Thanks.” Seth was too tired to ask who she was or where she was going with the drinks. He pulled out a couple of small bottles of orange juice and handed one to Chloe.

In a few minutes, the woman swung into the parking lot at the store. “Stay safe,” she said. Before they could even thank her, she’d driven off.

“Random acts of kindness,” Chloe said, and he nodded. They’d probably never know who the woman was, any more than the people they’d brought out of the flooded houses would know them. It didn’t matter.

The door to the storeroom was unlocked, and when Seth opened it, he found several people still at work, sorting supplies that were probably destined for the shelter. He hailed the nearest person—a vaguely familiar-looking Amish woman. He didn’t realize who she was until Chloe spoke.

“Dora, is Susanna still here?”

She shook her head, eyeing Chloe with a certain amount of wariness. “She’s at the shelter. She and my son took some foodstuffs over, and she stayed to help.”

“Is she all right?” Chloe’s voice wavered slightly.

Maybe Dora heard it because her look softened. “Most likely she thinks she’s better off busy than worrying.”

“I’m sorry. Your shop . . .”

“It will be as God wills.” The phrase of acceptance had always annoyed Seth when he was young, but it had begun to make a bit more sense.

“We’ll head over there, then,” he said.

Dora caught Chloe’s hand. “Tell her she’s to stay with me, ja? And you, as well, if you need a place.”

“That’s kind of you.” Chloe blinked at the unexpected offer. “I already have a place, but I’ll tell her. And I’ll try to get her to take a break.”

Dora nodded. “Maybe she’ll listen to you, ain’t so? She hasn’t listened to anyone else.”

“I don’t know about that, but I’ll try.” Chloe looked doubtful.

They went back out into the rain, but at least it was a gentle drizzle and not a downpour any longer. A small thing to be grateful for. “We can take my car.”

Chloe started to protest, but Seth kept talking as he steered her toward his vehicle. “There’s no point in trying to park two cars at the shelter. The lot’s bound to be crowded.”

“You don’t have to come.” Chloe’s mouth was set in a stubborn line.

“Maybe not, but I am. And once you’re sure Susanna is okay, you’re going to get some rest.”

“I’m fine.” But at least she made no more objections about letting him drive to the shelter.

“Sure you’re fine.” He slid into the driver’s seat and started the car. “That’s why you’re rubbing your shoulder and swaying on your feet.”

Caught in the act of massaging her shoulder, Chloe didn’t bother to argue. “Muscle strain, that’s all,” she said. “Putting down the river with Granddad was a little different from what we did last night.”

“I don’t know about you, but I’d just as soon not have to put in a night like that one again.”

“I suppose a lot of people are thinking that same thought,” she said. She pushed damp hair off her face. “I just realized—Lydia is probably worried sick about us. If only she had a phone—”

Chloe stopped herself. She tried to be sensitive to the Amish beliefs of her sisters, but he suspected she found it difficult at a time like this one.

“Once we’re settled, I’ll call my mamm’s phone shanty and leave a message. She’ll make sure Lydia knows what’s happening.”

“Good.” Chloe relaxed against the headrest with a sigh.

“Here we are.” He pulled into the parking lot. As he’d imagined, it was nearly full. He found a spot, and in a moment they were approaching the double front doors of the square brick building.

“This used to be the lodge hall of a fraternal organization.” He pulled the door open. “They were once big in towns like Oyersburg, but most of the buildings have been put to other uses.”

Chloe didn’t seem to be listening, and he could hardly blame her. Besides, she’d been here for the Saturday market. He wasn’t leading a sightseeing trip, but he had the feeling that if he didn’t keep his mind busy, he’d fall asleep on his feet like a horse.

They emerged into a center hallway, and a hum of noise came from the big room to the left where most of the stalls had been set up for the market. Now one end contained cots, and the other long tables and chairs. Several children were sound asleep in their makeshift beds, but it looked as if most of the adults were too keyed up or too worried to sleep. They gathered in small groups, talking, or simply sat, staring into space. The scent of coffee and pancakes wafted from the far end of the room.

“The kitchen,” he said, touching Chloe’s arm. “That’s where Susanna will be, most likely.”

She nodded, and they worked their way through the crowd toward the kitchen, not talking. Seth studied Chloe, alert for any sign that exhaustion was overtaking her.

But she somehow kept putting one foot in front of the other. He’d seen Chloe in a lot of roles since they’d met—the serious scholar, the reluctant sister, the determined idealist. Tonight he’d seen her turn that stubborn determination of hers to a fierce need to help others no matter the cost to herself, and his admiration had increased with every hour that passed. Chloe might still struggle with her difficult heritage, but she knew how to set that aside to do the job in front of her.

His feelings had clarified a little during this long night. Admiration. Attraction. And something more? He didn’t know, but he wanted to find out.

Chloe pushed open the swinging door to the kitchen, with him right behind her. She stood for a moment, scanning the figures moving purposefully around the room.

“There.” He touched her arm. “By the stove.”

Susanna, an oversized white apron over her deep blue dress, stood at the mammoth gas range. She was flipping pancakes with a practiced hand while sausages sizzled in a cast iron fry pan.

The aroma hit Seth, making him dizzy. How long had it been since they’d eaten? Time had telescoped and stretched like a child’s rubber toy since he’d rushed toward Oyersburg to find Chloe.

“Susanna.” Chloe hurried toward her, narrowly missing a collision with a gray-haired man carrying a tray full of serving platters. “Are you okay?”

Susanna’s face blossomed into a smile when she saw Chloe. “Ja, for sure. What about you? When I heard you’d gone back down to the creek— Ach, you shouldn’t scare me so bad.”

Susanna was talking like a big sister, her tone loving and scolding all at once. Some of the fatigue seeped from Chloe’s face when she heard it.

“We had a busy night.” Her gesture included Seth. “Looks like you have, too.”

“There’s plenty to do, that’s certain-sure.” Susanna turned back to her pancakes, lifting them to a platter waiting warmed on the back of the stove. “What am I thinking? Do you want some breakfast? There’s plenty.”

“Sounds great,” Seth said before Chloe could speak. She might not think she needed food right now, but he knew better.

The woman working the next set of burners reached across to take the spatula from Susanna. “You go and eat with your friends, dear. And then you’d better get some rest.”

“I’m not tired,” Susanna said, but her drawn face gave the lie to the words. These sisters were a stubborn bunch, it seemed, Seth thought.

“Yes, you are.” The woman included them in her smile. “You all look like you need food and rest, so take it. We’ll want you able to work the next few days, not dead on your feet.” She waved them away with the spatula.

Seth ushered Chloe and Susanna away before they could argue, guiding them to a corner of the kitchen where some of the other volunteers were snatching a meal. “Sit.” He pushed them into chairs. “I’ll get the food.”

But another volunteer was there before he could move, setting laden plates in front of them. Someone else pushed a carafe of coffee toward him, but Seth shook his head. He’d had enough coffee during the night to last him.

The first bite of pancakes and sausage was bliss. He looked toward Chloe to be sure she was eating.

She wasn’t. She had her arms around Susanna, hugging her, and they both had tears in their eyes.

It seemed the emergency had broken through some part, at least, of the barrier between Chloe and her sister. Could he say the same about Chloe and himself? He didn’t know.

C
HAPTER
T
EN

S
usanna
struggled awake, coming vaguely to an awareness of something very much wrong. What . . . ?

Memory flooded back as she opened her eyes. She was lying in a double bed. The large, square room was sparsely furnished as was typical of an Amish house. A wooden chest of drawers, a row of pegs on the wall for clothing, a bookshelf. A rocking chair sat next to a small table by the window.

She stared at the window but could make nothing of the grayness beyond. It could be any time from dawn to dusk. How long had she been asleep?

Pushing back the double-wedding-ring quilt, Susanna slid her feet to the floor, her bare toes encountering a hooked rug. The white nightgown she wore fell around her in waves. Obviously it was one of Dora’s.

She pushed disheveled hair back from her face. She had a vague memory of Nate guiding her staggering steps up to the spare bedroom at some point, and embarrassment heated her cheeks. What must he think of her, unable even to walk upstairs by herself?

Hand on the bedside table for support, she stood, relieved to discover that her legs held her up. Her limp was bad enough, but she really hated it when someone saw her stumble, the invariable result when she’d taxed her body beyond its limits as she had in the past twenty-four hours.

A memory slid into her mind as if it had been jarred loose by the events of the past day. Herself at six or seven, curled up in her small bed, wrapping the pillow around her ears to shut out the sound of her parents’ voices in the next room.

“I’m chust saying maybe it’s better for Susanna to know the truth about herself from us.” Her father had sounded as if it took all his strength to hang on to his patience. “Then we don’t have to worry about her finding out by accident.”

“No!” Mamm’s voice had risen, frightening her. “I won’t have it.”

“But when she marries . . .”

“She won’t marry, you know that. She’s not like other girls.” Mamm’s voice had been strong and determined. “No one else wants her. But we do. She’s ours, and I won’t have you telling her otherwise.”

Susanna realized she was gripping the edge of the table so hard that her fingers hurt. She forced herself to release her grip, rubbing her hand automatically.

The memory must have been buried very deep. She certainly hadn’t thought of it in years, but now it might have happened yesterday. In light of what she knew now, it was clear that Daad had wanted to tell her the truth about her parentage.

Mamm had won that argument, obviously. If she’d ever known how her words would one day hurt Susanna, she’d never have spoken them.

No one else wants her.

Pushing the thought away, she moved to the rocking chair, where someone had laid out clothes for her to wear. Maybe Mamm had been right, at least about the not marrying part. But someone did want her—Dora, her sisters.

The memory replayed in her mind of those moments when she and Chloe had held each other close. Susanna wasn’t even sure who had initiated the hug, but it had seemed so right. It had
been
right. In that moment she had felt their relationship, deep in her bones. It was as if her heart and Chloe’s heart had called to each other in that moment. Whether she and Chloe and Lydia knew one another or not, they were sisters.

As for marrying—well, even without marriage, her life could be fulfilling, as long as she had the shop. Fighting down a wave of panic, she pulled the nightgown off over her head. Get dressed, that was the first thing. And then find someone who could tell her what had happened to the shop.

Dressing quickly, Susanna realized that the soft blue dress must belong to one of Nate’s sisters. It fit fairly well except that it hung a bit long on her. She found the straight pins to fasten the front of the dress lying on the table and slipped them in place with the ease of long practice. The shoes were her own, obviously cleaned and dried to be ready for her.

Now for her hair, and then she could go. She brushed it out, tackling the tangles with energy. Normally she’d have put her hair in a single thick braid before climbing into bed, but she’d probably fallen asleep before she could start.

A knock at the door told her Dora must have heard her steps and known she was awake. “I’m awake—” She swung the door open, losing her words when she saw that it was Nate, not Dora.

“I . . . I thought it was your mamm.” She knew her cheeks were pink at facing Nate fresh from bed with her hair hanging halfway down her back.

“She wanted me to tell you to come and have something to eat.” If Nate was embarrassed as well, he hid it better. “Don’t hurry. Mamm just always wants to feed people.”

“I know. Denke, Nate.” Gathering her scrambled thoughts, she began to ask him about the shop, but he was already starting down the stairs.

Closing the door, Susanna hurried with her hair. She wrapped it into a bun, securing it with hairpins, and setting the prayer covering in place. This one looked new, and she guessed either Dora or one of her daughters might have made it but not worn it yet. Giving it to her was a kind gesture.

As she went out of the room, she spared a thought for her own things, many of them maybe underwater by now. She had little that couldn’t be replaced, but Daad’s family Bible and the quilts her mamm had made would be a loss. Still, her apartment sat a bit higher than the shop. Maybe those things she treasured would be spared. If not . . . many folks were losing far more than that, she feared.

Taking a quick look around the upstairs, she gripped the banister. Five bedrooms, it seemed. Nate had probably hoped to fill them with kinder.

Apparently the room she’d been in was the largest one. His, maybe? If so, Nate shouldn’t have given up his room to her.

Mingled aromas testifying to cooking and baking drew her to the kitchen, along with the chatter of female voices. Dora and her two daughters bustled about, using what seemed to be every available pot and pan, while Donna’s young children played with blocks in a corner out of the way.

“Here’s Susanna,” Donna said.

Rachel, her younger sister, smiled at Susanna. “Did we wake you with all our noise?”

“Ach, I’m certain-sure you should have slept longer.” Dora came to give her a quick hug. “How do you feel?”

“Fine, I’m fine.” It seemed to Susanna that she’d been saying that often lately. “What’s happening? It looks as if you’re planning to feed the whole town.”

“Not quite that,” Dora said, “but it comes close. With the electricity off and the stores closed, there’ll be plenty of hungry mouths to feed.”

“Since we don’t rely on electric like the Englisch, we’ll fix what we can here.” Donna set a steaming bowl of vegetable soup on the table and gestured Susanna to a chair.

“I can help—” she began, but Dora pushed her gently to a seat.

“Eat first,” she said. “Then you’ll have the strength to cope with whatever comes next.”

Rachel bent to take two shoofly pies from the oven, the heat bringing a flush to her cheerful round face. “You’ll have a wedge of this once it cools,” she said. “It will fill up the empty corners.”

Donna sniffed with mock disapproval. “Dry-bottom shoofly pie. Whoever heard of the like in this house?”

“My Stephen likes it this way,” Rachel said. She was married less than a year, and obviously taking pleasure in making the pie the way her husband preferred. “You’re just jealous.”

“What do I have to be jealous about?” Donna snapped a tea towel at her sister. “I use Mamm’s recipe.”

“Girls, stop your chatter and let Susanna eat in peace.” Dora smiled fondly at her daughters, obviously knowing that all their fratching was done in fun.

A spoonful of the hot soup seemed to warm Susanna all the way down. “What’s the news? Have you heard anything?”

The women were suddenly so quiet that the sound of the toy blocks was like a clap of thunder. Dora sat at the table, her face tightening.

“Nate went to check on things an hour ago. He says the creek is going down, so that’s gut. But it’s an awful mess with water still in the street, and the police aren’t letting anyone go closer. They say it’s too dangerous.”

“But surely, if we could just get a look—”

Dora shook her head. “I know. I feel that way, as well. It’s worse for you because your apartment is there, too. But we’ll have to be patient until it is safe to go in, like everyone else.”

Dora’s words were a reminder. Susanna wasn’t the only one at risk of losing much. She nodded, feeling a little ashamed of her single-mindedness.

“How bad is the river?”

“They’re saying it will crest tonight.” Donna glanced at her children, as if to assure herself that they didn’t hear or understand. “A record high, so they say.”

“The electric is out, and the water plant is flooded so the pipes are shut down.” Rachel’s brown eyes were solemn. “It’s just lucky for us Nate thought ahead and filled plenty of jugs with water.”

Something in her voice reminded Susanna that Nate had been as much a father as a big brother to his two younger sisters. Much as she disagreed with Nate at times, Susanna had to admire his dedication to his family.

“Nate says we can’t expect anyone to get into town to help until tomorrow, at least,” Rachel went on, shivering a little. “I used to read stories like that, about people stranded on a desert island and the like, and think it sounded as if it would be fun. But the real thing isn’t fun at all.”

“Ja, there are plenty of folks who need help now and will in the days to come.” Dora rose. “We must accept what happens as God’s will, and do what we can for others.”

Every word Dora said was true, but Susanna couldn’t help thinking it was very hard to accept what was happening as God’s will.

The shop was all she had left now. Surely God wouldn’t let that be taken away from her.

* * *

Chloe
had insisted on helping clean up after the huge lunch Emily Hartman had served when they’d awakened. At the moment she was putting plates into the glass-fronted dish cabinet that took up half of one wall in the kitchen and covertly watching Seth dry the last few cups.

The T-shirt Emily had found for him to wear while she washed his clothes stretched across his broad shoulders, and a strand of wheat-colored hair fell onto his forehead. He looked up, caught Chloe’s gaze, and smiled.

Her heart lurched. After what they’d been through together, she was finding Seth very nearly irresistible. She longed to let go of everything that urged caution. What would happen if she did? Warmth seemed to spread through her.

“Feeling better now?” he asked.

Maybe it was best he not know what she was really feeling. “There’s nothing like hot water and a hot meal to get a person feeling human again, is there? How is that working, anyway? I thought the power was off.”

“It is.” Seth hung the dish towel neatly on the dish rack. “Dave has a generator big enough to power the whole house, and he has a well. He says he can’t be in charge of emergency services unless he’s prepared for emergencies himself.”

“Makes me feel a little guilty, being warm and clean when so many aren’t either.” She set the last dish in the cabinet and closed the door.

“We’ll be better able to help others if we feel better ourselves,” Seth said, sounding practical. “By the way, I spoke to my mother just before you came down. She had a message from Lydia, saying they’ll be here to help as soon as the bridge is open again.”

At some level, Chloe had known that Lydia wouldn’t be able to stay away, but it still cheered her to think of seeing her sister. “How is it in Pleasant Valley? Did they get any flooding?”

“Some basement flooding from the creek, that’s all. My mother said they’ve been able to get most houses and stores pumped out today.”

Seth carried the cups over and reached above her head to put them in the cabinet where they belonged. Chloe discovered she was holding her breath at his sudden nearness.

She cleared her throat. “Your mother and Jessie are all right, though?”

“They’re okay.”

Something in his voice told her that wasn’t entirely true. She put her hand on his wrist. “Something’s bothering you. What is it? Your mother didn’t fall, did she?” That was one of his recurrent worries, she knew—that his mother would try to do too much and end up with another broken hip.

He shook his head, his lips twisting slightly. “It’s Jessie. She’s determined to come with the work crew to help, and Mamm’s just as determined to keep her home. They both want me to side with them.”

It reminded Chloe uncomfortably of her relationship with her grandmother. “Is there any real reason why Jessie couldn’t help? I mean, physically she’s fine, isn’t she?”

He nodded slowly. “I suppose so. Mamm worries, though. Jessie has what the doctors tactfully call ‘impulse control’ issues. If she should fly off the handle . . .”

Chloe struggled with her own impulses. Technically it wasn’t any of her business, but she couldn’t help caring, and she was an old pro at reacting to overprotectiveness. Seth’s mother was gentle and loving, but it sometimes seemed to Chloe that her hovering irked Jessie beyond all bearing.

“Maybe one of us could keep an eye on her if she came to help,” she said finally. “Or Lydia could. Would that reassure your mother?”

“It might.” His hands, braced against the marble countertop, were so taut the muscles stood out like cords. “I spent ten years ignoring my family.” His voice was harsh. “I’m still paying for that neglect. If I make the wrong decision, about this or anything else—”

“You won’t,” Chloe said quickly, hoping that was what he needed to hear. “As long as you’re acting out of love, I don’t think you can go wrong. And in the end, isn’t it up to Jessie? She’s old enough to make her own decisions.” And learn from her mistakes, the way Chloe had to.

Seth gave a short nod and pushed himself away from the counter. She recognized the signs. He’d let her glimpse his inner tumult, and now he was backing off.

“Speaking of family, have you called your grandmother? She’s probably worried. I’m sure the flooding is all over the network news.”