Where Shadows Meet(34)

She needed to be alone to think. Life had come at her too fast in the past week, and with it, memories of her earlier life in this place. Was it as idyllic as she remembered? She believed it was, and she mourned the loss of her innocence.

With her thoughts swirling, she fell behind the rest of the buggies. The sky darkened, and rain began to patter onto her head. It grew nearly as dark as dusk. The air took on a greenish cast, and she feared a tornado might be in the swirling clouds.

She slapped the reins on the horse’s rump, and he picked up the pace. As the rain fell harder, she wished her people believed in buggy coverings. She could barely see the road with the water dripping in her eyes. A dark shape loomed ahead in the downpour, and she realized a car without lights was bearing down on her. Did the driver see her? She directed the horse to the side of the road and kept going forward, but the car swerved toward her side of the road. She couldn’t see the make or model, just the shape coming closer.

It was going to hit her, and her gut told her it was a deliberate move. She didn’t want the horse to be harmed but didn’t know what to do. Then she saw a path cut into the newly planted field of corn. Just as she turned the horse into the path, the car brushed by so closely that it rocked her buggy. Perspiration popped out on her forehead, and her hands began to shake. All she could see were the taillights flashing as the car slowed at the next intersection and went on.

Someone had tried to hit her.

She gulped back her fear and backed the buggy out of the lane to continue on to the grave site. The sun began to peek through the clouds as she finished the trip. She’d be late and a bedraggled rat, but she was alive. Still shaking, she stopped the buggy behind the long line and stepped down into the mud. She realized she was right in front of the graves of her parents.

Plain wooden stakes marked their sites. There were no flowers on any of the graves, and she longed to put just a single carnation on her mother’s. She’d loved beautiful flowers so much. Keeping them from her didn’t seem right.

Did Mamm ever regret her decision to join the Amish church? It wasn’t done very often. It helped that her parents were German and she was already bilingual, but she gave up so much for Datt. Hannah wished she could talk to her mother’s family, but the brief glimpse of her aunt and cousin at the funeral had been her only contact with them. Maybe she could find them again. Aunt Nora might know how to contact Aunt Cathy and Mary.

Had Reece really converted to the Amish faith? And if he had, where did that leave her? She couldn’t go back to him. What if Reece was indeed behind everything—her parents’ deaths, the fire at Aunt Nora’s, the attempt on her life? Or was it her bitterness blinding her? Could she be wrong about Reece? But no, she’d felt his hand shoving her down the steps. A man who would do that was capable of anything. Her hatred swelled.

Hannah saw Angie’s car parked along the road and waved to her. Angie jogged over to join her. “What happened to you?” she asked. “You look like a drowned kitten.”

“Someone tried to run me off the road.” Hannah told Angie what had happened, and immediately her publicist wanted to call Matt. “I don’t want to spoil the funeral. We’ll go see him later.”

They stood on the edge of the crowd. Hannah tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. A blue Saturn rolled to a stop in the line of vehicles, and a woman got out. A sense of déjà vu rolled over her when she recognized her cousin Mary.

Ten years older now, Mary had lost the fresh bloom of her early twenties. Her auburn hair was cut short, and the style did nothing to flatter her face. She’d gained a few pounds as well, and the blouse she wore strained across her stomach. Hannah stepped out to meet her.

“Mary, I don’t know if you remember me. I’m Hannah.”

The other woman smiled. “It would be hard to mistake you since we look so much alike.”

“Is your mother here too?” Hannah remembered how her mother and Aunt Cathy also resembled each other.

Mary fell into step beside Hannah, and they moved toward the throng of people around the grave. “No, she’s in Maine again. After your parents were killed, I ended up moving here to Indiana. I read about Moe’s death in the paper and thought I’d come pay my respects. I know he’s not a direct relative, but I still feel part of the Amish side of the family. I thought you left town.”

“I did. I came back for a visit a few days ago. Where are you living? I’ll stop by if you don’t mind.”

Mary gave her the address. “I’d love that.”

“Are you married? Have kids?” When the question sprang from her lips, Hannah wondered if the child she sought might be Mary’s.

“Nope, no husband. Or kids.” A shadow darkened Mary’s eyes.

They rejoined Angie at the edge of the crowd. The interment service proceeded without incident, but watching Nora’s pain hurt Hannah. It was all she could do to stand back and let closer family comfort Aunt Nora.

Mary had to get back to work after the service, and Hannah promised to visit. Once her cousin got in her car and drove off, Hannah wanted to do the same. “I can’t eat with them,” she told Angie. “I don’t want to embarrass Aunt Nora or Sarah. Let’s go to the jail. I need to see Matt and tell him what happened on the road.”

She told her aunt they were leaving, then she had Angie follow her to return the horse and buggy to her aunt’s house. Once she cared for the horse, she and Angie headed for Rockville. When they got there fifteen minutes later, Hannah stood five feet away from the car, staring at the big boxy building. The jail repelled her, reminded her of the questioning she’d endured ten years ago. She could still smell the cleaning solution used in the room where she’d been grilled for four hours, and the scent made her stomach churn. What made her think they’d help her now?