Anathema (23 page)

“We didn’t want Caitlin to hear about it someday and feel more abandoned than she would when she learned of her adoption. There ’s something devastating about being tossed on someone ’s porch. She was all swaddled up against the chill. And we found her immediately, just as the kidnapper thought we would.” One peek into her wrinkled little face had triggered love at first sight. He still remembered the way she opened her eyes and looked at him. He and Analise had been trying to have a baby for five years and were just starting to talk about adoption. It seemed Caitlin was a gift from heaven.

With his position at the sheriff ’s department, it had been easy to keep the circumstances quiet and to put the adoption through. They told friends and family a private adoption had been arranged and they’d gone to the hospital to get her. A quiet search was made for her parents, but no traces of them were ever found. A few months later, the adoption was final.

And
final
was the word. He couldn’t give her up.

“Have you spoken with the mother?”

“I haven’t told her I have Caitlin, if that’s what you mean.”

“You don’t want this woman to find her. Heck, I don’t want her to find her! I love Caitlin. There would be a huge custody battle.”

“Exactly.” At least he had some support now.

seventeen

“The Chevron Quilt is an interesting pattern. And one that
has special meaning when you look at the way the Amish
won’t wear a uniform or serve in the military.”

HANNAH SCHWARTZ, ON THE
Today
SHOW

H
annah’s gaze kept returning to the center of the sitting room where she’d found the bodies of her family. No trace of the symbol marred the walls. The three hours she ’d been here had dragged by, hung up on tragic memories haunting every corner and peering from every shadow.

Tableware clanged against plates in the kitchen. Hannah could hear one of her cousins talking to Sarah in German. The guttural tones took her back to her own childhood. Seated on the sofa with a tray, she picked at the food on her plate.

Asia tipped her head and listened. “How well do you still remember your German?” She’d insisted on joining Hannah for dinner.

“I’m a little rusty. I found that out when I tried to talk to the children the last time we were here. Ours is a Swiss-German dialect that’s a little different from what the
Englisch
call Pennsylvania Dutch.”

“Is Parke County the sect’s only home?”

“No, but the majority of the Swiss Amish came to Indiana. Our group came later than those in Pennsylvania. We made our way to the state around 1840 directly from Switzerland. Most Amish people here in Parke County are from Pennsylvania and speak Pennsylvania Deutsch. Most of us here in Indiana who speak the Swiss dialect are up around Berne, but our district was a plant from there.”

“Are the languages close enough to understand each other?”

“It’s a little challenging.” Hannah smiled. “If I were to talk with a Pennsylvania Deutsch Amish woman, it would be easier to speak English. We don’t socialize much with the other group either.”

Asia studied her face. “You keep saying
we.
”

Hannah’s laugh felt strained. “I suppose I do. I hadn’t noticed. I’ll always be Amish at heart.”

“How do you mean?”

“Our simple love of family, our neighbors. It’s ingrained in me, and I’ll always carry it with me. I might carry a cell phone and cut my hair, but inside I’m Amish.”

Asia nodded. “I can see that. It’s one reason people are drawn to you.”

Drawn to her? Hannah had never noticed. She scooped up a spoonful of her cold fruit soup—mashed strawberries, milk, and sugar over bread. She hadn’t had anything like it since she left the county, and she nearly smacked her lips over the fresh taste. Sarah was a good cook. The chicken potpie had pastry flaky enough to melt in her mouth, and the homemade root beer rivaled
Mamm
’s.

“I had no idea there was so much diversity among the Amish. You should mention that in the book.”

“Each district can be different too,” Hannah said. “But most people don’t realize there are such distinctions.” The noises intensified in the kitchen, and she knew they were finished with supper. She put her spoon down. “I think I’m done too.”

“We should help with dishes.”

“They won’t let me. But I can sit at the table while you help.” Hannah rose and went to the kitchen with her utensils. Ajax followed at her feet.

Sarah glanced up quickly, then ducked her head so all Hannah could see was the top of her kapp. The tiny pleats in the prayer bonnet had required hours of ironing. Hannah put her dishes onto the stack by the sink, then retreated to sit at the table. She folded her hands in her lap.

“Can I help you with the dishes?” Asia asked.

“No, thank you. The children will help.”

Asia raised her brows and glanced back at Hannah, then joined her at the table. Sarah moved a small step stool close to the sink, and Sharon crawled up to wait for her mother. Sarah took the kettle from the woodstove and poured hot water into the sink. Naomi took a dish towel from the drawer and stood on tiptoes to grab the wet dishes as they were ready to be dried.

“Amazing,” Asia muttered, her gaze on the children. “Most kids do everything they can to get out of chores.”

The girls’ willingness seemed so normal, so right, to Hannah. “We are taught from a young age that work is blessed. Idle hands are the devil’s workshop. We enjoy spending time with one another too. The girls want to be like their
mamm
, and the boys like their
datt
. They’re eager to begin to learn the chores and to help out. My mother began to teach me to quilt when I was three.”

“Do your children ever fight?” Asia asked Sarah.

Sarah smiled and shook her head. “It is not allowed.”

“Where ’s Luca?” Hannah asked.

Sarah’s smile faded. “Feeding the horses and chickens.”

So far, Hannah had detected no trace of the camaraderie she and Sarah had shared as teenagers. Hannah mourned its loss. “When did you and Luca marry?” She kept her tone light and friendly.

“About a year after you left. Nine years ago.”

“Your oldest is only six?” It was unusual for so much time to pass before a child arrived.

“I had a few . . . accidents.” Sarah seemed to force the words out.

“I’m sorry.”

“The Lord’s will be done.”

“Of course. And your family is beautiful.”

Sarah’s eyes finally softened. “Thank you.”

“How are your parents, your brothers and sisters?”

“They are well.
Mamm
is dealing with a bit of arthritis, but she has good spirits about it.” The smile that flickered across her lips disappeared. “You might spoil everything, Hannah. Don’t you care?”

The words pierced Hannah to the bone. “I’ve always cared,” she said softly. “I can’t tell you how many times I picked up the phone to call Luca at work. I didn’t want to make things worse for him.”

“Yet you’re here now, aren’t you?”

Heat crept up Hannah’s neck. It hurt to be so unwanted. It used to be different. She fought to keep her voice from trembling. “I need to find the child.”

Sarah turned from the sink and came to where Hannah sat. “Do you really think the child is yours? And what if she is, Hannah? Would you rip her from a family who loves her?”

“I don’t know.” In spite of her resolve, her voice shook. “You know how important family is to me.”

“Not anymore. You turned your back on your family. For
lust.

”

“That’s harsh,” Asia put in. “You don’t know what Hannah’s been through.”

“God chastises his children.”

“At least you admit I’m his child,” Hannah said in a low voice.

“I admit nothing.”

“What are you so afraid of?” Asia asked.

“I’m not afraid.” Sarah pressed her lips together.

But Asia was right. Hannah recognized the fear now in the way Sarah’s hands trembled. “Are you hiding something, Sarah?”

“Of course not!” The strings on Sarah’s cap fluttered as she shook her head.

“Do you know where the little girl is being kept?”

Sarah grabbed up a basket from the counter. “I’m going to gather eggs.”

The door shut behind her, and Hannah stared after her through the window. She hadn’t answered the question. Hannah followed her.

The night air cooled her hot cheeks. She found Luca and Sarah huddled together near the barn. They stopped speaking when she approached. Was the fear she saw in Sarah’s eyes fear of the future? “Look, let’s clear the air. I’m not going to throw you out. I don’t even want anything from the property.”

Luca crossed his arms over his chest. “Half of it rightly belongs to you. I have been setting aside half of the profits every year you’ve been gone.”

“I don’t want it.” Blood money, that’s all it was.

“No. You
will
take it. It’s not as much as the greenhouse is worth, but it will be a steady income if you will allow me to continue to manage the business.”

She recognized the inflexible tone of his voice but he couldn’t stop her from doing what she wanted with it. Maybe she ’d set it aside for his girls. “How about we compromise? I’ll take what you’ve got set aside as a final payment. No more after that. That’s my final offer.” He wouldn’t get the reference to a TV show, but she had to say it and smile anyway.

“I cannot do that. The house and property are worth even more.”

Hannah glanced back to the house. “Let’s break out the accordion, Luca. I haven’t yodeled since I left. We ’ll sing all the old songs and pretend we ’re kids again.”

“I haven’t played since you left, Hannah. I’m a deacon now. I got rid of the accordion.”

“Is my guitar still in the barn? We can have the kids watch for buggies just like we used to do.” She started past him toward the barn, but he grabbed her arm.

“I didn’t want to be a deacon, but the vote came to me. Don’t make it harder, Hannah.”

She stared at him. “Do you still yodel?”

“
Ja
. The girls, they are learning too.”

“Could we do that tonight?”

Luca glanced from Hannah to Sarah. “Ja, maybe it would be okay.”

Sarah had no expression, and Hannah wondered if he hoped the yodel fest would ease the tension. Did Sarah value her position as a deacon’s wife so much that she never liked having fun anymore? The girl she was ten years ago had vanished when the black apron replaced the white one.

MATT RUBBED HIS eyes, bleary from staring at the screen. Blake sat sprawled in a chair on the other side of the desk. His eyes were closed, and a snore rumbled through his mouth. The clock on the wall read only eight thirty, but they hadn’t slept since Reece surprised Hannah last night, questioning neighbors, tracing leads. All to find nothing.

Blake had come straight from Shipshewana, and Matt decided to let him sleep awhile before waking him to demand to hear what he ’d found out.

He wished he could sleep in his own bed tonight rather than on the sofa at the Schwartzes’, but duty called. He hadn’t checked his e-mail all day, so he clicked over to it. The in-box contained mostly work-related requests for information or case follow-ups that he ’d been copied on. No new burglaries.

He glanced at Blake. He ’d been out of town. Coincidence?

An e-mail marked Urgent caught his attention as he was about to click out of the program. The subject line read “Hello Son.” The air seemed close and hot, and if he’d had the energy, he would have opened the window or turned up the air. He thought he ’d clicked on the message, but then he realized he was still sitting there staring at the screen.

If he didn’t know better, he ’d have thought he was having a heart attack. A weight lay on his chest, and his arms were numb.

His hand holding the mouse moved slowly, and the cursor paused over the e-mail. For just one second, he wanted to linger and not know. In this case, ignorance might be bliss. He could hang on to the hope just a little longer. He swallowed hard and double-clicked the e-mail. The message sprang onto the screen, and he leaned forward to read it.

Hello, Matt. I heard you’ve been looking for me. If this is true, please reply to this e-mail. Love, Mom

Could it really be her? How did she find his work e-mail? Wait, he hadn’t left town—she had. It would be no problem to get his e-mail. It was listed on the department’s Web site. His hands shook as he placed them on the keyboard. He typed a quick reply asking her to meet him. He tried not to sound too desperate. Desperation might drive her away. And did his words sound accusing or judgmental? He reread the note.

Mom, good to hear from you. Can we meet? How about at the coffee shop tomorrow morning at 9:00? Just let me know. Love, your son Matt

Joy exploded in his chest. Whenever he thought of his mom, he was eight years old again, running home to see her. He reminded himself she wouldn’t be the same woman he’d last seen. She would be in her fifties, probably with gray hair and wrinkles. Was she remarried? What if she had kids with another man? The thought that she might have loved another child more than him and Gina compressed his chest again.

He warned himself not to get his hopes up. After all this time, if she really was trying to find him, her motive might be to ask for money or something. It wasn’t likely she had missed him as much as he ’d missed her.

Blake yawned and sat up. His hair stood on end. “Man, I’m beat.”

Matt clicked out of his e-mail. “What did you find out?”

“Found the bishop. He claims Reece started coming there a month ago.”

“So it’s fairly recent. Probably a ploy to get Hannah back.”

“That’d be my guess. The bishop said Reece had been faithful to the teachings.”

“Except for driving a vehicle.”

“Well, yeah, there ’s that. But the bishop didn’t know about it. He said Reece told him he ’d hired a driver for a trip and would come in a few weeks with his wife and child.”