Where Shadows Meet(63)

Hannah lifted everything out of the box and went through each item, carefully shaking out the letters. The ring was gone.

“When did you see it last?”

“About two weeks before she died. It’s got to be here.”

Could Sarah have taken it? But why? She would have no use for it. She’d never be able to wear it. And Luca wouldn’t allow her to sell it. Could one of the girls have gotten in here and taken it out to play with it? It seemed unlikely. Amish children were taught respect from a very early age.

“I’ll have to ask Sarah about it.” Her gut clenched at the thought. Sarah might think she was accusing her of theft.

She put all of the items back in the box, though she lingered over the letters. She’d wanted to read them for as long as she could remember. “When you’re older,” her mother had always said. The youth quilt caught her attention. She unfolded it and spread it out on the bed.

“That’s gorgeous,” Angie said, getting up to take a closer look. “It looks like the birds are about to fly off the fabric. It’s a solid black with just stitching as the only other color. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“All Mamm’s quilts are unique. It’s the way she uses color. And look at her tiny stitches. I’ve never been able to match their perfection.”

Angie leaned over to examine the quilt. “Oh, it’s beautiful. Where did she learn?”

“My dad’s mother. Gro?mutter took her under her wing, and Mamm was so patient to learn it all. She used to paint before she married Datt. Afterward, she poured all her artistic ability into her quilts.”

“I wish we had more of her quilts to feature in your book.”

“Me too.”

Angie went back to her chair. “Is there another one around here? Maybe some of her customers still have them?”

“Oh, of course! We could get some of those. I wasn’t thinking. I’d rather feature my mother’s quilts if I can find them. She had a magnificent Mariner’s Compass one. I think she sold it to the woman who owns the fabric store. We’ll check there tomorrow.”

Hannah couldn’t wait to hold it. Maybe the woman would sell it to her.





EIGHTEEN


“The Double Nine Patch Quilt is one of the most traditional quilts, which is fitting when you remember that the traditions handed down through generations are supremely important to the Amish.”

—HANNAH SCHWARTZ,

IN The Amish Faith Through Their Quilts

Hannah’s cell phone rang after Angie had gone to sleep. She answered it and whispered, “Hang on,” before tiptoeing out into the hall. She slipped into the bathroom and shut the door. “Hello,” she said. She’d been half-asleep and hadn’t checked the caller ID.

“Hi, hon,” Reece said. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

Hannah cleared her throat. “It’s after midnight, Reece. Of course you woke me.”

“I was thinking about you. Come meet me at the road. We could go for a cup of coffee.”

“No. Leave me alone. Our marriage is over.”

“Don’t say that, hon. I don’t want anything . . . bad to happen to you. We have to get back together.”

Hannah licked her dry lips. “Are you threatening me, Reece?”

“Of course not. It’s just that bad things might happen if I’m not around to protect you.”

“Bad things happen when I’m with you. No one has hit me in five years.”

His voice vibrated with anger. “I told you, that’s in the past. I won’t touch you. I’ve changed. I’ve converted.”

“You’re driving,” she pointed out.

“It’s just temporary. The bishop told me to sell everything. Until I get it sold, I’m driving it.”

Hannah barely refrained from rolling her eyes. “What’s Demut mean?”

“Humility,” he said promptly.

Score one for him. “How does that work out in life?” Could he be telling the truth? Some of the districts weren’t as restrictive as others.

“Accepting God’s will. And God doesn’t want us to be apart, Hannah.”

“God doesn’t want you to beat me either. Or to kill our daughter. You pushed me down the steps, Reece.”

“You’re wrong, hon. I was trying to catch you. I would never hurt you.”

“You broke my nose, my arm. Why would I believe you now?” Was she remembering that night all wrong? But even if she was, he’d been liberal with his fists at other times. The loss of the baby was the final, tragic straw.

“I’m warning you, Hannah. You’d better come back home. Where it’s safe.”

Hannah shut off her phone without replying to his insistent demand. The hidden threat in his words made goose bumps break out on her skin. She rubbed the raised flesh on her arm. He wasn’t going to intimidate her.



MATT DIDN’T WANT to be here. It had been late when he arrived, but even his fatigue didn’t help him fall asleep. The lack of outside lighting deepened the shadows in the room. This was a bad idea. He tossed on the sofa. At least the hiss of the gaslights had been silenced. He’d had no idea a lamp like that was so loud.

Now the house echoed with silence. If there were a TV in the place, he’d turn it on and spend an hour of mindlessness. He forced himself to close his eyes and then began to drift. He dreamed of Analise. She was smiling as she ran through a field of flowers. He wanted to warn her not to smell them, but he couldn’t speak.