Where Shadows Meet(66)

WEDNESDAY MORNING. SHE’D been here a week. It seemed longer. From where she sat in the sitting room, Hannah could see her cousins at the kitchen table with Sarah. Their blond heads bent for silent prayer with their small hands clasped together. How often had she done the same around the table with her parents? It was one of the things she missed the most.

The children took their breakfast dishes to the sink and climbed the stools to wash them. Hannah forced herself to stay in the sitting room. Luca had already gone to the greenhouse, and Hannah hoped for a chance to talk to Sarah. Angie was upstairs working on a press release, and this morning would be the perfect time once Naomi and Sharon went outside. She didn’t see Matt anywhere, and after last night’s embarrassment, maybe that was best.

Hours later, she still longed to experience the strength of his arms around her. But look where that had gotten her last time. She needed to keep her distance. Besides, she was still married, at least legally. She’d hoped Reece would initiate divorce proceedings when she disappeared, but she should have known better.

The girls finished the dishes, and Hannah heard Sarah tell them to go gather the eggs. Before Sarah could start another chore, Hannah hurried into the kitchen. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Sarah’s glance held a trace of wariness. “Ja, I suppose. I have laundry to do. I am two days late with it, and Luca has no more clothes.”

“Oh, we can talk over laundry. It was always our favorite chore to do together. Remember how we used to throw suds at each other? Mamm was so mad the day we had more suds on us than on the clothes. What were we—thirteen or fourteen?” Hannah had to smile at the memory.

Sarah’s lips twitched, but the smile never reached breaking point. “I cannot accept a favor from you.”

Hannah’s smile vanished. “It’s a favor to me that you would allow me to do my laundry too. I didn’t bring many clothes with me, and most of them are dirty.”

Sarah still looked uncertain, but finally she nodded. “Get your clothes.”

Hannah flew up the steps to gather the laundry. She yearned to see Sarah smile, to resurrect some tiny part of their friendship again. She took Angie’s clothes with hers in a basket she found in the hall closet upstairs. By the time she got to the laundry room, an enclosed back porch, Sarah had already fired up the gas-powered wringer washer.

Hannah dumped the clothes onto the concrete floor and sorted them. Sarah kept glancing at her from under her lashes. She almost looked . . . scared. Hannah wondered if Sarah feared she’d ask about the missing ring.

The gasoline-powered washer chugged along, stirring up a fresh batch of suds. Before Hannah could talk herself out of it, she plunged her hand into the cold water and scooped up a handful of foam. She flung it onto Sarah’s head, then started back for more. Giggles burst from her at the bewildered expression Sarah wore.

White bubbles dripped down Sarah’s hair onto her forehead, and she wiped them slowly. She didn’t crack a smile, and Hannah became aware of how inappropriate her actions had been. She opened her hand and watched the suds slide back into the washer. “I’m sorry,” she said.

Sarah reached over and grabbed a dish towel lying on the pile of towels. She dabbed at the top of her head.

“Here, I’ll help you.” Hannah took the towel and cleaned the suds from her friend’s head.

Sarah still hadn’t said anything. Maybe she was too shocked. After all, they were a sedate thirty-two years old. Matrons didn’t behave like giddy teenagers about to enter their rumspringa.

Something cold hit her neck and slid down the back of her blouse. She stepped back to find Sarah with the suds still in her hand and a wicked smile on her face. “You suckered me in,” Hannah said. She dove for the washing machine again, and ten minutes later, there was more water on the floor and on each other than in the washer.

“Oh my,” Sarah said, collapsing onto a cane-backed chair in the corner. “I’m glad the children didn’t see their mother acting dumm.”

“It’s not foolish to have fun.” Hannah wiped the suds from her cheeks. She pulled the chair from the other corner over next to Sarah. “I’ve missed you, Sarah.”

“Ja, and that is why you’ve come to visit so often and sent so many letters.” Sarah turned her back and began to run one of Luca’s shirts through the wringer on the washer. She dropped the garment into a basket and reached for another.

“My husband wanted me to break all ties. He thought you’d coax me back. He knew how many times I cried to know I was shunned. And I wanted to please him, to be faithful to him.”

“Yet still, you left him.” Sarah’s voice held censure.

Divorce was not accepted in the Amish community. A woman who left her husband would be shunned. Hannah stared into Sarah’s face. “He beat me, Sarah. He shoved me down the steps on purpose so my baby would die,” she said, her voice hard. “Would you accept that? Just say it’s okay and go on living with him, sharing his bed?”

Sarah bit her lip and looked away from Hannah’s gaze. “It is required by the Meidung to be faithful and respectful to my husband.”

“He would have killed me if I’d stayed, Sarah.” Hannah watched Sarah’s face, but the other woman said nothing.

Hannah hated divorce. Hated that she was separated. In a perfect world, a man cherished his wife and put her above himself. In a perfect world, a man was gentle yet strong toward his wife. In a perfect world, marital strife never happened. Too bad the world wasn’t perfect. Hannah wished she could live in a world like that.