Where Shadows Meet(76)
She looked around for Matt and saw him pushing Naomi and Sharon on the swing under a cloudy sky, though the rain had stopped for now. Watching him with the children, she knew his daughter was a lucky little girl. His entire attention was focused on the kids.
Up near the house, she saw a buggy in the drive. Luca and Sarah must have company. She hoped it was no one she knew. All she wanted to do was rush to her room and have a good cry. Now she’d have to paste on a smile, at least for a few minutes. She stopped in the yard and turned toward the barn. Maybe she could hide out there for a little while.
“Where are you going?” Angie asked.
“I thought I’d—I’d check on my old horse.” Hannah bolted for the barn. She heard Angie call after her, but she didn’t stop. Shoving the barn door aside, she stepped into the cool darkness of the barn. The familiar scent of hay and horse enveloped her in a warm, safe embrace.
Lucy nickered, and Hannah ran to her. She should have come to see the animal sooner. How amazing that Lucy remembered her. She stroked the old appaloosa’s soft nose. Lucy had to be twenty by now but was still working.
As a child, Hannah had spent many hours in the hayloft with a book and a secret radio. This was her place, her refuge. She eyed the ladder to the haymow, then gave Lucy one last pat and went to stand at the base of the ladder. Looking up, she realized the top wasn’t as high as she remembered. Hannah put her foot on the first rung, then went hand over hand up to the haymow. Stacks of hay bales filled the loft. She balanced across the tops of the bales to the back corner. Once upon a time, she’d had a little nest back here, a cocoon she’d carved for herself from bales of hay.
It was probably long gone, but she couldn’t help shoving aside a few bales just to see. She wiggled back to where she’d made the opening to her small space. There it was! Hannah couldn’t believe it. The rough hay tore at her hair and clothes as she dove into the “house” she’d built over twenty years ago.
The space seemed smaller, but she was an adult now and time changed her perception. The area measured about six by six and five feet high. She crawled in on her hands and knees and peered out the window into the yard. Datt had put the window in just for her when she was ten. From this perspective, she could see the whole yard, the house, and the greenhouse area.
Angie wasn’t in the yard anymore. She must have gone inside. Hannah could be alone and enjoy the solitude. Hugging her knees to her chest, she settled back against the hay. A smile tugged at her lips, and the tension eased from her neck and shoulders. She could forget her problems here.
Until she heard someone calling her name. She wanted to clap her hands over her ears and refuse to respond. Then she recognized Matt’s voice. It sounded as if he was in the barn below her. She scrambled from her hideyhole and moved over the uneven bales of hay to the ladder.
“I’m up here,” she called. When he looked up and their eyes met, an unseen bolt of energy connected them. An invisible umbilical cord tugged her toward him. The last time she’d experienced a connection like that, she’d run away from everything she knew and loved, ending up in a heap at the bottom of the stairs with her baby’s blood seeping out of her.
TWENTY - ONE
“The Amish prize objects that are made by hand, well-made items that will last for generations, just as their faith has lasted through the decades. That’s why I prize the Log Cabin Quilt so highly.”
—HANNAH SCHWARTZ,
IN The Amish Faith Through Their Quilts
The sun illuminating Hannah’s hair through the windows of the barn made it look like a coil of copper. She had it up again, and if Matt were bold enough, he’d grab the pins and shake it loose just to see it in the sunshine. She’d probably slap him for his trouble. Just for a moment when their eyes had locked, he could have sworn he saw something in her eyes. Awareness, need, something. It was gone too quickly to name it as more than interest.
She swayed as though she was dizzy. “You okay?” he called up to her.
“I’m fine.” Her hand swiped straw off her cheek. “Stand away from the ladder and I’ll come down. I have a skirt on.”
He should be so lucky as to see her legs. He walked over to lean against the door frame, but he had to resist the temptation to peek. She brushed the hay from her clothes, but the yellow stuff sticking from her hair stayed untouched. She probably had no idea how pretty she looked with the hay in her hair and a flush on her cheeks. He was mightily attracted against his own will and annoyed with himself enough to grit his teeth.
“You can turn around now,” she said.
She looked just as prim and proper as her voice. Except for the fact that the hay in her hair made her look as if she’d just tumbled in the haymow with someone. Before he could stop himself, his fingers were in her hair, and he was plucking out bits of hay. Thick and lustrous, her hair invited him to plunge his fingers in deeper.
He dropped his hands before he could be tempted further. “You in here feeling sorry for yourself?”
“Maybe.” She bit her lip as though she was sorry she’d said anything.
She swayed again as though she’d like to lean against him. It was probably wishful thinking on his part. “Anything I can do to help?” he asked.
“Not really. I’m just disappointed. I knew Reece loved to play mind games with me. But I thought maybe this time would be different. I’m no closer to finding out what happened to my daughter than I was when I came last week. Even here, I’m an outsider. I—I wanted so much for my daughter to be alive. I tried not to count on it.” She looked up at him as though he could make her wishes come true.