Upon A Winter's Night (18 page)

With a final glance at the quilt she knew she must keep a secret, unless
Daad
figured out where she found his meds, she tiptoed out, relocked the door and replaced the key. Though she didn’t usually think this way, she wished she could phone Josh just to hear his voice. Or Ray-Lynn. Sometimes she wished her people had phones that were in the house, not way down a dark, cold road in a common booth. Even another voice from a radio or TV would help right now. Not that she was disloyal to her people or usually felt that way. But tonight, at this moment, she felt so alone.

She decided she would sleep downstairs but she’d need to wash up and get her nightgown and a fresh dress for tomorrow from her bedroom. The dress she had on looked as if she’d slept in it, and she longed to take her hair down and brush it.

First, she went into the pantry to get two of
Mamm
’s
 
bread sacks to put her parents’ clothing in. She noted that several were pulled off the shelf and lay on the floor. Any sort of disorder was unlike her overly tidy mother, but then she’d probably been in a rush to get all that bread ready to take to the furniture store staff today. Or the sacks had slid out, and she hadn’t seen them. Lydia put the bags back in place, then labeled the two she needed
Daad
and
Mamm
and slid their personal items inside. Taking her lantern again, she hurried upstairs. As tense and nervous as she’d been today, exhaustion was starting to take a toll on her.

She stripped off her clothes in the bathroom and washed quickly with soap and warm water. Trembling from the cold, with a towel wrapped around her nakedness and the lantern in her hand, she tiptoed—now, why tiptoe?—to her bedroom and went directly to her closet. Putting the lantern on her tall dresser, she slipped on a warm flannel nightgown and robe and jammed her feet in her woolen slippers.

She should take her clothes for tomorrow downstairs, too— No, she’d come up tomorrow to wash up better. She’d just take her pillow and a blanket. She could use one of
Daad
’s
 
quilts from the living room, too, and pretend she was wrapped in the Christmas quilt.

But as she turned to her bed, she gasped. She’d made it this morning, all smooth and straight, but now the sheets were yanked awry, pillow punched and indented. She moved a step closer. It looked as if someone had slept in it, twisting and turning, writhing! And strings of sticky honey were dribbled on the pillow, all around!

She gasped, and the walls seemed to echo the sound. The house creaked as if its very bones were breaking. She recalled that little fairy tale she’d read from the library bookmobile years ago, before
Mamm
found out and took it away from her as being “worldly nonsense.”

“Who has been sleeping in my bed?”
 
said Mama Bear, Daddy Bear and Baby Bear.

Lydia staggered back against the wall, barely breathing, trying to sift out sounds. No footsteps, no one else in the room, but some evil presence had been here and still lurked. Had
Daad
given Gid a key? He’d been walking around the house. No, he wanted to gain favor with the Brands. He’d never do something like this—sacks on the floor, water in the tub, honey in the refrigerator and in her bed, and who knows what else she’d missed?

Reminding herself to breathe, she approached her bed and ripped the upper covers back, terrified she’d see something dreadful there, a threatening note at least. Nothing, but the sheets were damp as if the invader had taken a shower, then come straight here to roll in the honey, punch her pillow and violate her bed.

18

C
rying and shaking so hard her lantern quivered, Lydia searched room after room in the house. All she wanted to do was run outside, but she was afraid to go in the barn alone or race through the woodlot to Josh. Besides, perhaps the person who had done this wanted her to be outside alone, like that night Leo Lowe accosted her. If she could only hitch Flower to her buggy or run to Josh, spend the night there—but what if this was a setup to force her to do that, catch them together late at night?

Because she couldn’t bear to search the attic or basement, she locked both doors and wedged ladder-back chair under their knobs. Yet surely no one was hiding upstairs or down there. She would hear them, sense them, wouldn’t she? At least Ray-Lynn would be here early tomorrow. Emotionally and physically exhausted, Lydia decided she’d get dressed again and sit on the sofa downstairs, keep the curtains closed and lots of lanterns lit. And with
Mamm
’s
 
heaviest wooden rolling pin in her hands.

But sometime in the night, amid the shrieks of wind and creaking house, she dreamed her own voice was shrieking. She was gripping a rung of a ladder or the smooth wooden limb of a tall tree, climbing amid thick leaves and straw, searching for Sandra. Was she still in the loft? Sandra had to tell her what upsetting thing she had found out about her mother—and which mother? But as she climbed the tree, people snatched at her skirts, Leo Lowe, Gid, even Connor, who was trying to spray the tree.
Mamm!
Mamm was below, too, scolding her to come down. Where was Josh? She needed Josh!

Lydia woke to the sound of someone cutting the tree down with a hatchet,
rap, rap, rap—
and then realized someone was knocking on the back door. She forced her eyes open and jerked awake.

* * *

“Connor,” Ray-Lynn called as she got out of her car in the Brands’ driveway, “what are you doing here so early? I thought Jack told you Sol Brand had a heart attack and is in the hospital in Wooster.”

As she had driven down the lane, she’d watched Connor walk from the line of spruce trees that edged his property, across the driveway and up to the back porch, where he had knocked on the door. He looked startled to see her. “Oh, yeah, he did. My mother went back to Columbus overnight. I called her to tell her, and she said to check on Lydia.”

“So you know her mother’s staying in Wooster, too? I’m here to drive Lydia to the hospital, then back,” she said as she walked up to join him on the small back porch. Like a young kid caught doing something wrong, he jammed his hands in his jeans pockets.

“Oh, so she’ll be here tonight, too? I’ll tell Mother.”

He seemed frazzled, as if he’d been up all night just as Jack had. Surely, the duties of mayor weren’t weighing Connor down, but maybe selling Christmas trees was demanding, even though he had a large staff.

Still looking nervous, he started down the steps. “Mother told me to see if Lydia needed any help, and she’d be back tonight—my mother, from Columbus, where she had some business.”

“Got it. Lydia may be sleeping in. It’s been quite a time for her. I’ll give her your message.”

The back door opened, and Lydia stood there. Dark half-moons shadowed the underside of her eyes, and her clothes were mussed. Her hair looked as if she’d combed it with her fingers beneath her lopsided prayer
kapp.

“Oh, Ray-Lynn,” Lydia said. Then she added, “Connor! Is everything all right?”

“My mother just asked me to stop by to see if there’s anything she—we—can do. A ride to Wooster, anything.”

Lydia looked as if she was still waking up. Her voice sounded shaky and she kept blinking, either bothered by the light or maybe the sight of Connor at her back door.

Lydia told him, “Please thank her for me, and I’ll let her know.
Daad
came through well. He’ll need rest for a while, though.”

“Sure. Been losing a bit of sleep myself—with my new duties in town. Just let us know if we can help,” he repeated, and walked down the drive until he could cut across to his own property. As cold as it was, as early as it was, Ray-Lynn thought, why had he walked over here instead of driving?

“Ray-Lynn, come in,” Lydia said. “I’ll change really quick. Want something to eat?”

“Now, you know us Southern girls don’t stir outside in the morning without our makeup, coffee and grits.” Ray-Lynn tried for a light tone as Lydia closed the door. But when she saw the tears clumping Lydia’s eyelashes together, she hugged her. “But you’re the one with grit, my girl. And I’m right here to help.”

Lydia hugged her back, then stepped away, wiping tears from her wet cheeks. “Oh, Ray-Lynn, someone was inside the house while we were all in Wooster. Moved some things around in the refrigerator, took a shower, got in my bed and made a mess of it.”

“What? You mean like a break-in? Like someone ate your food and dared to sleep here?”

“Not exactly,” she said, shaking her head hard. “I think it was to scare me, hurt me. I searched the whole house except for the basement and attic—that’s why the chair is propped there,” she said with a nod at the basement door across the kitchen.

“I can call Jack. He can come over and look around. He drove to Parma last night to see Leo Lowe, but he wasn’t there, and his wife claimed she didn’t know where he was. That’s the guy who was hanging out in your backyard before, right?”

“
Ya.
But I don’t think there was a break-in, so where would he get a key?”

“I don’t know, but Jack’s got the Parma police looking for him.”

“I’ll give you and the sheriff the details later, but I’ve got to get some things to the hospital,” she said, moving away. “If I leave a key under the mat, can the sheriff have a look after we leave?”

“Not a good idea if you’ve had an intruder. I’ll call Jack and let him know, let him put two and two together about Leo Lowe. When I bring you back here, he can take a look around.”

Lydia rushed upstairs to change. Ray-Lynn walked around the house, wanting to look out, but Lydia had all the curtains drawn. That figure Ray-Lynn had seen outside her and Jack’s house the other night—coincidence? Jack had said once that in police work there were no coincidences, but this was still the heart of Amish country, the Home Valley in Eden County, for heaven’s sake. So why did another serpent have to slither into their little piece of paradise?

* * *

Lydia asked Ray-Lynn to wait in the hospital lounge while she headed down the hall toward the room number she’d been given for her father. Carrying the two paper sacks with her parents’ clothing, she held both plastic containers of
Daad
’s medicines tight in her hand, along with the sleeping pills she wanted to talk to
Mamm
about. What a good sign that his doctor was walking toward her with a laptop computer in his hand!

“Ms. Brand, it looks as if you could use some rest, too,” he said, stopping beside her. “Did you find your father’s BP meds?”

She handed the bottle right over. “Yes, here. I had to really look for it. All I saw in the medicine cabinet where my mother said to look were first-aid things and her sleeping pills.”

He looked up from studying the label on the bottle. “Does she have trouble sleeping, too? Your father said he did.”

He seemed so kind and interested that Lydia almost launched into the sad story of the family losing Sammy, but she said only, “She does sometimes.” She showed him the bottle of
Mamm
’s pills. “So is that a good sleep medicine?”

“A powerful one. People taking it have been known to have waking-talking blackout periods. They can function as if awake but they do things they later don’t recall, kind of like sleepwalking. I knew someone using this med who fixed a large breakfast for people and didn’t recall a thing—thought someone else had been in her kitchen. What’s really bad is that some people drive after taking it. In a couple of recent criminal cases, the accused have claimed they weren’t responsible for an accident because they were under the influence of the drug.”

“And you can buy something scary like that in a drugstore or grocery store?”

“No. It’s prescription only and comes with all sorts of warnings.” Taking the container from her, he observed, “She’s peeled off the label that gives the doctor and pharmacy. I’m just giving you a heads-up that if your mother is taking this on a regular basis for insomnia, she might not be a very good nurse for your father, but at least she’ll have you to help. Thanks for this.” He indicated the Hytrin medication. “I just checked your father out a half hour ago. He’s resting well, but we’ll be sure he gets onto a good blood pressure med. So, what’s in that other bottle you’re holding?”

“Oh, I almost forgot. I grabbed this medicine of
Daad
’s,
 
too, in case it makes a difference in what you prescribe. It’s Paxil, and I didn’t know he had it. It says ‘for depression.’”

The doctor’s eyebrows shot up. He took it from her and glanced at the label. “It’s the same doctor he had for the blood pressure meds. But you had no idea about this?”

“No, and I’m not sure
Mamm
did, either. I found it in his—in his private study with the Hytrin bottle. He’s looked tired lately and has a lot of pressure at this time of year in the store, but... Could these have hurt his heart?”

“As with the sleeping pills, there are side effects, so I’m glad you turned these up. Don’t get him or your mother more upset talking about it until I check things out. I’ll speak to him first in private.”

“I understand. I won’t bring it up.” She almost told him that she had bigger secrets than that. Keeping both of
Daad
’s
 
pill vials but handing
Mamm
’s
 
back, he gave her an encouraging nod and went on his way. Lydia just stood there a moment, her mind racing.
Daad
’s
 
depression was one thing, but she had no idea
Mamm
had been to a doctor for sleeping pills, though she had taken a lot of naps lately. But with those strange side effects, why didn’t she choose another kind? And had her doctor explained the risks to her?

She tiptoed into
Daad
’s
 
room, a private one with one bed, though
Mamm
was curled up on a couch along the far wall. Machines with moving lines on their screens were attached to
Daad
’s
 
arms like power cords going into an
Englische
home from telephone poles. She decided not to upset either of them by telling them what she’d found at home. Besides, Ray-Lynn would go in with her when they went back, and then she planned to buggy straight to the furniture store. Ray-Lynn had called the sheriff. The two of them planned to meet Lydia at the house so that she could walk him through it in a similar setting as she’d found the place.

“Liddy,” came a quiet voice from the bed.

She hurried over and put her hands over her father’s left one atop the sheets. He whispered, “Had a tube down my throat...hurts.”

“Don’t talk, then,” she whispered, nearly matching his raspy voice, hoping not to wake
Mamm.
“You’ll be fine, but it will take some time. You’ll be home soon, and I’ll help.”

He mouthed his words this time. “You already do.”

“Ray-Lynn has volunteered to drive me back and forth. Even Connor came over this morning to say his mother was worried about us.”

His eyes widened in obvious surprise. Tears glazed his eyes but did not spill. “You can trust her—Bess,” she thought he said, but he seemed to have fallen asleep again.

She stood there for a while, holding his hand, watching the little lines go up and down each time his heart beat. She nearly jumped through the roof when someone touched her from behind.

It was
Mamm,
motioning her out into the hall. She, too, looked so strung out that Lydia decided right then she wouldn’t tell her about the disarray in the house until later. Even if
Daad
had been in great shape, the thought of an intruder would upset her mother.

“You found his medicine?”
Mamm
asked.

“Yes, and I gave the bottle to the doctor. I brought things in sacks for both of you,” she added, “on the chair next to his bed.”

“Good girl. Lydia, I know I sound like a scold sometimes, but I only want what’s best for you. You know that, don’t you?”

“
Ya, Mamm,
of course.” And, Lydia thought, the fact her mother had not been sleeping well for who knew how long could make anyone on edge. She wondered again if
Mamm
knew about
Daad
’s medicine for depression, but that would have to wait.

“But now you must also do what is best for the family,”
Mamm
went on, “and that means helping Gid at the store. I can take care of things here and when we get
Daad
home. No need to whisper to your father, say things that might upset him, and the same for him.”

“I—I wouldn’t. But ‘same for him’? I don’t know what you mean.”

She shrugged. “In his condition, he might say things he doesn’t mean. He had some sedation.”

Lydia almost asked her if she knew the side effects of her own sleeping pills, but she decided to save that, too.

“Ray-Lynn is still here?”
Mamm
asked.

“She said she’d wait.”

“Don’t keep your friend waiting. It was so nice of her, but she has a business to care for just like you do now.”

Lydia nodded. At least
Mamm
had more or less apologized for seeming to scold all the time. And she was right that she should check in at the furniture store, for surely
Daad
would want that, too. But what sort of sickbed confessions had she been afraid her own daughter and
Daad
would be whispering about? Maybe she was afraid that, since
Daad
had faced death, he would insist they tell Lydia all about her “real” parents.

* * *

About halfway home, Ray-Lynn said to Lydia, “Not to change the subject when you have a lot to worry about already, but I did end up talking to a Hostetler. You told me you might want to reach out to your birth mother’s family.”