Plain Peril Page 12

  A flush of warmth rolled over her. Something about the way her mother said my Ruthie made her both sad and jealous.

  Hannah was about to protest when her mother squeezed her hand and said, “When I was eighteen, I left Apple Creek...I was a lot like you.” She lifted her watery eyes.

  A lump formed in Hannah’s throat. Her mother had left Apple Creek?

  “I met a nice man. An Englischer.” Her lips flattened into a thin line. “I thought we were going to be married.”

  Hannah listened, fascinated, her heartbeat pulsing in her ears. She had never known this part of her mother’s life.

  Her mother’s gaze dropped to the scarred pine table. “I got pregnant.”

  Hannah stifled a gasp, one of surprise, not of disapproval. The last thing she wanted was for her mother to think she disapproved or was being judgmental.

  Emma ran into the kitchen, her loud footsteps snapping Hannah out of her intense focus.

  “Sarah said she’s staying here, but I want to go with you.” The determined set of Emma’s jaw reminded Hannah of Ruthie.

  Hannah ran her shaky fingers over her niece’s silky hair. The little girl had grown fond of leaving her hair down.

  Eager to continue the conversation with her mother, Hannah swallowed hard. “Go upstairs with your sister. Tell her I’ll be up in a minute to talk. Okay? Look around and make sure you have everything you might need. Hairbrush, your doll...” She’d have to buy new clothes for the girls once they started their new life, but for now, they had to gather what they could.

  Emma nodded and spun around, the skirt of her dress flaring out. She watched her niece run away and thump up the stairs. Muffled complaints floated down the stairs.

  Hannah shifted to face her mother and covered her mother’s hands. “What happened?”

  “We were supposed to get married. We were making plans. He was hit while riding his bike to class at the university...” Her mother got a faraway look, and she shook her head.

  A ticking began in Hannah’s head. A warm flush of realization washed over her. She swallowed around a knot of emotion. “I’m that baby.”

  Her mother set her jaw and closed her eyes briefly, her shame so deep she couldn’t say the words.

  Hannah jerked back and pulled her hands down into her lap. In one instant, she had learned her father wasn’t her father, and her real father was dead. She blinked back dizziness.

  Her mother folded her hands in front of her and hiked her chin. “I came back to Apple Creek, heartbroken. Ashamed.”

  Hannah fought back the tears. She wanted to ask her mother a million questions but feared she’d stop sharing altogether.

  “I married Eli Wittmer, a good Amish man. He had always been sweet on me before I got worldly ideas.” She sniffed and closed her eyes. “He accepted the child I was carrying as his own. No one knew any differently.”

  Her mother closed her eyes and nodded. “Your father, the man who raised you, saved me from shame. He allowed me to be a respectable Amish woman.”

  Mesmerized by the in and out of her own breaths, Hannah reframed her entire life. It made sense, explaining why the only father she had known favored Ruthie, his true daughter, while coming down hard on her.

  “Eli was a good man, but he looked at you and remembered what I had done.” Her mother unthreaded her fingers and threaded them again. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t your fault.”

  The walls pulsed, and a bead of sweat rolled down Hannah’s back. “Mem, why are you telling me this now?”

  Her mother’s lips pursed then relaxed. “You need to follow your heart. You were never happy here. Go. I know Ruthie would want you to raise her daughters, even if it’s not on this farm in the Amish community.”

  She squeezed her mother’s hand. A tear trailed down Hannah’s cheek, but she didn’t bother to wipe it away. The information her mother had shared, although difficult for both of them, had been an amazing gift.

  “Lester and Fannie Mae are going to fight me for the girls.”

  “Do what you have to do to keep them.” Her mother put her palms on the table and stood. She cupped Hannah’s cheek. “I was happy raising my family here, in the Amish community. But I can see in your eyes, this life is not for you.” She coughed and put her fisted hand to her mouth. “Just promise me a few things.”

  Hannah waited.

  “Make sure you visit me often. I can’t bear to lose you and your sister and my granddaughters.”

  “Of course. I’m not leaving Apple Creek.”

  Her mother gave her a knowing look. “Oh, I fear you will. But wherever you go, make sure you keep Gott in your life. In all of your lives.”

  Hannah swiped a hand across her wet cheek. “I will, Mem. I will...”

  * * *

  “But why can’t I keep the cat?” Sarah whined from the backseat of Spencer’s truck. She had Pumpkin curled up in her lap. His heart went out to the little girl.

  Hannah shifted in her seat, her features strained. “Sweetie, the apartment doesn’t allow us to have animals. My friend Rebecca said she’d take good care of Pumpkin.”

  “What if she runs away? She ran away before.”

  Spencer cut a sideways glance to Hannah. She blinked slowly a few times, as if giving it some thought...or praying for strength. “Pumpkin found her way to us, right? God was looking out for her. We fed her and made sure she had someplace safe to sleep. She’s a smart cat. She’ll be fine.”

  In the rearview mirror, Spencer watched Sarah smoothing her hand down the kitten’s head and back.

  “God will make sure Pumpkin is cared for,” Hannah reassured the child.

  “Maybe God wants us to protect Pumpkin.”

  Hannah slumped into the seat and tugged on the seat belt, defeated.

  When Spencer pulled in front of the Fishers’ property, Sarah instinctively tucked Pumpkin under her chin.

  “Come on, you can show Pumpkin her new home,” Hannah said, forcing a cheery tone.

  They all climbed out and headed toward the barn in back. “We can say hello to Buttercup, too,” Hannah added. Rebecca’s family had taken in all their animals displaced by the barn fire. Although tragic, the barn fire and the subsequent removal of the animals from the farm had allowed Hannah to make the choice to leave. A part of Spencer felt hopeful this meant a possible future for them.

  Spencer resisted the urge to reach out and place a reassuring hand on Hannah’s back. She looked as if she was ready to bolt, as if she expected Willard to storm out of the house and demand she get off his property now that she had fully embraced her English roots.

  The door creaked open, and Rebecca hustled toward them, a look of worry on her face. “Samuel is gone. I’ve checked everywhere, and he’s gone!”

  Hannah clutched her friend’s arm. “What do you mean?”

  “He must not have come home last night.” Her eyes blazed with fear.

  “I’ll have patrols keep an eye out for him, but boys his age do that on occasion.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Willard wouldn’t like law enforcement to get involved.”

  “He doesn’t have to know,” Spencer reassured her.

  “I shouldn’t go against my husband. He’s out looking for him.” Rebecca dipped her head. “At least we know he’s not hiding in your barn. The fire took care of that.” Resentment or something else flattened Rebecca’s lips into a thin line.

  “I never encouraged him to hang out in my barn to read.” Hannah’s tone was rightfully defensive.

  “Perhaps you didn’t discourage him enough.”

  Hannah opened her mouth then snapped it shut.

  Spencer brushed his hand briefly across Hannah’s back, a silent show of support.

  “Why do you think he left?” Spencer considered a few scenario
s. Could he have been responsible—perhaps accidentally—for the barn fire and run away in guilt? Perhaps he had lied about seeing John Lapp there to protect himself.

  “Samuel’s been hanging around the wrong people,” Rebecca said quietly. “The stricter his father got with Samuel, the more he rebelled.” She kept cutting her gaze toward the barn. When Willard strolled out, Spencer understood why.

  “We came to drop off the cat,” Hannah said.

  Willard’s hard gaze shifted to the cat in Sarah’s arms. “Go on and put it down, child. That cat’ll be fine. We’ll see that it’s fed. And we’ll have a few less field mice around here for our troubles.” He let out a gruff laugh.

  Sarah buried her face in the kitten’s fur before setting the cat down on the ground. If only Mrs. Greene wasn’t allergic.

  Willard cleared his throat. “My wife is sharing news of my Samuel. He’ll be fine. He’s doing what some young Amish boys do. He’ll come home once he gets it out of his system. I did. He’ll realize worldly ways are not for him.”

  Willard scrubbed a hand across his unkempt beard. “Now, about Sarah and Emma...”

  Hannah reached out and clutched Emma’s hand, tugging her closer. Sarah stood with her chin pressed to her chest, watching Pumpkin explore the long grass near the edge of the barn.

  “The girls and I will be fine. Thank you for caring for the animals.” Hannah seemed to be measuring each word. “Come on girls, let’s go.”

  “There are plenty of Amish families that would willingly take in Sarah and Emma Lapp.”

  “They are my nieces.” Hannah turned and strode toward the truck.

  Emma skipped next to her, holding her hand, oblivious to the tension hanging in the air. Sarah followed, begrudgingly, unwilling to leave Pumpkin behind.

  “They are meant to be raised Amish,” Willard called out as Spencer helped the girls get into the truck. He opened the door for Hannah.

  Spencer slammed the door. “Hannah will make sure her nieces are well cared for.” He narrowed his gaze, cautioning Willard to back off, as he walked around to the driver’s side.

  Once inside the truck, Spencer turned to Hannah. “What do you make of Samuel taking off?”

  “I’m not sure. He’s afraid of Willard.”

  “Hmm...I remember being afraid of my father when I was a kid. I did some boneheaded things when I was young, and I knew my father was going to make sure I stayed on the straight and narrow.” Spencer turned the key in the ignition. “That’s what happens when your father’s a cop. He understood what was at stake if I screwed up.”

  “My father was strict with me.” There was a faraway quality to her voice. “And I ran away.”

  “That makes three of us.” He thought of the girlfriend and law practice he had left behind. He tipped his head and unsuccessfully tried to coax a smile out of her.

  “I fear there’s a big difference here. Samuel has been at the center of some suspicious activities. Do you think this makes him look guilty?”

  Spencer slipped the gear into Drive. “It doesn’t scream innocent.”

  * * *

  Emma sat on her new bed in the apartment and bounced. “I have my own bed? I don’t have to share with my sister?” The awe and sincere excitement in her young niece’s voice warmed Hannah’s heart after a rough couple of weeks.

  “You should find everything you need to get settled.” Mrs. Greene ran her hand down the hand-stitched quilt, probably made by one of the Amish women looking to earn extra money. The irony wasn’t lost on Hannah.

  “Thank you so much, Mrs. Greene. I appreciate your letting us move in so quickly.”

  Mrs. Greene waved in dismissal. “It was sitting empty. And I like having it occupied. I don’t feel quite so alone. Sheriff Maxwell has been busy lately and hasn’t had time for our evening chats.” Her blue eyes twinkled. “I guess now I understand where he’s been.”

  Hannah opened her mouth to protest and settled on a smile instead.

  Mrs. Greene walked toward the bedroom door and patted the door frame. “I’m right downstairs if you need anything.”

  “Thank you.” Hannah turned to her older niece. “Do you think you’ll like it here, Sarah?”

  Sarah stuffed a dress into the drawer, shoved it closed with her hip and narrowed her eyes at her watchful aunt.

  Hannah slipped out of the bedroom, letting the girls get used to their new surroundings. She found Spencer unloading groceries in the kitchen. “Thank you.”

  He turned around, a warm smile on his handsome face. “It’s the least I can do.”

  Hannah slumped into the kitchen chair and rested her chin on the heel of her hand. “Do you think I’m doing the right thing?” Her head was swirling with all the changes.

  With news of her biological father.

  But she couldn’t share any of that with Spencer for fear of betraying her mother. It was a heavy burden to bear.

  Spencer placed the instant coffee on the shelf in the pantry and turned to face her. “You’ve made a lot of tough decisions in your life.”

  “Like leaving the Amish for the first time?”

  He nodded. “That had to be the toughest decision.”

  She rubbed her forearms. “This is harder because now I’m making decisions for my nieces.” She glanced toward the bedroom to make sure they couldn’t hear them talk. “Emma seems up for the adventure. But I’m afraid Sarah will never forgive me. She thinks I’m going against everything her parents raised her to believe.”

  Wasn’t she?

  She looked up and found Spencer watching her, a look in his eyes that she couldn’t quite define.

  “How can I make such a huge decision for them? What if I’m wrong? What if they end up—” she shook her head “—I don’t know on drugs or...”

  Spencer slipped into the chair across from hers and covered her hand. “No parent knows for sure they’re making the right decision. You’ll have to have faith, right?”

  A smile tugged on the corners of her mouth. “I’m surprised to hear you talking about faith.” She narrowed her gaze. “Or are you humoring me?”

  “I’m here for you. For whatever you need.” They locked gazes. He leaned across the table, and her heartbeat kicked up a notch. He leaned and brushed his lips against hers. Warmth coiled around her heart.

  She pulled back and pressed her fingers to her mouth.

  A half smile quirked his lips. “I’m sorry.”

  She shook her head slowly. “No, don’t be sorry.” A new feeling, hope maybe, made her smile. “The kiss was nice, but I have so many things going on right now. I can’t think straight.”

  Spencer pushed away from the table and stood. He brushed his hand across her shoulder. “I have to go, but you know how to reach me.”

  “Thank you.” She had been saying that a lot lately. She sighed heavily and listened to his footsteps retreat across the hall to his apartment. From the girls’ bedroom she heard arguing. Her shoulders slumped, and all the energy and determination that had driven her to march out of her sister’s home in jeans and a T-shirt evaporated.

  * * *

  Since Hannah had sold her car, she was glad the apartment she rented was within walking distance from town.

  In usual fashion, Emma skipped alongside Hannah and chatted while Sarah was her moody self. Hannah felt a little guilty for not giving the poor girl more slack, but Hannah was doing everything she could think of to bring the nine-year-old around. When they reached the thrift shop, Hannah decided to look for clothes for Emma first, hoping Sarah would eventually warm up to the idea.

  Hannah pulled out a few pretty tops and khaki pants for Emma. The little girl grabbed them excitedly. She was extra excited when her aunt added a bright pink skirt, so different than the plain clothes she was accustomed to.

&
nbsp; As expected, Sarah was much harder to please. Everything she touched was in dull blues and browns. Hannah pulled out a bright purple skirt and a white blouse with blue and purple flowers on the collar. It wasn’t exactly what nine-year-olds in the city would wear, but it seemed to be a nice compromise—a transition between her Amish clothes and the English world she was being forced to enter.

  Hannah watched Sarah’s tentative expression as she fingered the flowers on the collar. A faraway look descended into her eyes. After a moment, she looked up. “Mem liked pink roses.” Her face grew flushed and her eyes shiny. “I miss Mem.”

  Hannah’s heart crumbled. Deep inside this petulant child was a little girl who missed her mother. Holding back tears, Hannah reached out and pulled Sarah into an embrace. “I miss her, too.” Hannah traced Sarah’s long braid with a finger. “I know this is hard for you. I promised your mom I’d make sure you were well taken care of, and this is the only way I know how.”

  Sarah buried her head into Hannah’s side and nodded.

  “I wasn’t very good out on the farm.”

  “We’ll do much better in town. And we’ll be close to Granny and your other family.”

  Sarah stepped back and held the skirt. “I like this one. Do you think I could get some of those shoes I saw over there?”

  Hope blossomed in Hannah’s chest. “Show me.”

  The three of them wound their way around the racks of clothes to a display of colorful sneakers.”

  “Of course.” Hannah playfully tugged on a strand of Emma’s hair. “Let’s try on a pair for you, too.”

  Ten minutes later, they walked out of the store, the girls dressed in their new English clothes. Emma fit in quite nicely in her purple sweatpants and T-shirt with a kitty on it. Sarah looked cute, but a little dated in her long skirt and Peter-Pan-collar blouse.

  Small steps.

  Her heart burst with joy and hope.

  A police cruiser pulled up alongside the curb, and Hannah squinted against the sun reflecting off the windshield. The door swung open, and Spencer climbed out. The serious expression on his face made her good mood evaporate. Something was wrong. Definitely wrong.