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But this reaction seemed different in some way. It was almost as if Aunt Jessie was trying to respond in her usual manner while thinking about something else underneath the whole time.
“Is it bothering you?” she asked.
“Why would you say that?” The question really was tart this time.
“I don’t know. I just thought you seemed sort of upset. I think it’s unlikely, too, but Chief Jamison is serious about it. He doesn’t have any way of tracing the woman’s family, so he’s clutching at anything that might be a clue.”
“I won’t be upset unless Jamison makes a nuisance of himself with this business,” her aunt snapped, making her relieved that Aunt Jessie hadn’t been here this morning.
Joanna hesitated, but it had to be said, and the sooner, the better. “I’m afraid he’s not giving up. He wants me to talk to Mamm and Daad about this idea of a relative, so I guess I’ll have to.”
Aunt Jessie stiffened, and she was already as tight as a drum at this departure from the ordinary. “If he wants to know, he’d best ask his own questions and not expect you to do it.” She swung around and headed for the back room. “I could use some coffee to get me going.”
Joanna watched her march off. She tried to dismiss the thought that grew in her, but she couldn’t. Aunt Jessie looked and sounded like she was trying to hide something.
That couldn’t be, she told herself. Aunt Jessie was the most outspoken, forthright person she knew. But still, the concern lingered.
CHAPTER THREE
JOANNA CLICKED TO the mare, and Princess obediently picked up the pace. No matter how you looked at it, you really couldn’t make up lost time with a horse and buggy, and she’d gotten a late start. They’d been busy in the shop during the afternoon, with a couple of customers picking fabric for new quilts and pulling out every bolt as they tried to decide. And the quilting class Aunt Jessie taught seemed to run later each week.
All of that had left her with no time to think about Aunt Jessie’s reaction to her questions about possible Englisch relatives.
Now that she came back to it, she wondered if she had been imagining things. Her aunt would be upset at the idea that Joanna had gone through such a crisis alone, that was all. And she was probably even more upset by the fact that she hadn’t been there for all the excitement.
Smiling at the thought of Aunt Jessie’s probable response to the young patrolman and his questions, Joanna turned into the lane at the Brandt farm. Cathy Brandt and Rachel Hurst would be waiting for her, not willing to start on the friendship quilt they were making for Cathy’s wedding without her. The three of them were the only unmarried women from their rumspringa group, besides being friends since childhood. That had created a link that even Cathy’s upcoming marriage couldn’t break.
Cathy greeted her at the door with a hug, and Rachel was right behind her. “At last, you’re here. Rachel and I thought you’d gotten lost.”
“Not I. Princess would always bring me home if I did.” She shed her sweater and bonnet. “Did you start without me?”
“Only if you call admiring each other’s patches starting,” Rachel said. Her gentle face was flushed and pretty, probably at her pleasure in getting out for an evening. Her father didn’t encourage her to have a life of her own.
“I haven’t made much progress this week.” Joanna set her sewing basket on the kitchen table, wishing as always that there were a few more hours in the day.
“No wonder, with all you’ve had going on yesterday and today,” Cathy said. She took her seat at the table, and the other two joined her. “Have you heard anything new about the woman who was hurt?”
“She’s still not awake.” While she could confide anything in the two of them, Joanna felt she’d been over the same few facts too many times, and at the moment she’d like to forget.
“That’s a pretty one.” Joanna reached out to touch the finished square Rachel had put on the table. “That’s a piece of the dress you wore for the first singing we went to, ain’t so?”
Rachel, always shy when the attention turned to her, nodded. She traced the star she’d created with a combination of solid colors. “Remember how nervous we were?”
Singings for Amish teenagers started off the process of sizing up the opposite sex, and every girl remembered her first one.
“We held on to each other for dear life,” Cathy said, laughing softly. “I don’t know what we were so afraid of. They were boys we saw most every day.”
“We thought nobody would want to talk to us,” Joanna said. “I didn’t dream of anyone taking me home, but I did want one of the boys to speak to me, at least.” She looked pityingly back at her younger self. “Who would have thought we’d all still be single so many years later?”
“Not for long.” Rachel clasped Cathy’s hand for a moment. “Soon it will just be the two of us. I don’t suppose I’ll ever get married,” she added. “I don’t meet anyone.”
Rachel so seldom complained about her life that they were both silenced for a moment. Joanna exchanged looks with Cathy. They’d both tried to get Rachel out from under her father’s iron rule, but they hadn’t succeeded. As far as he was concerned, Rachel’s job was to take care of him and to mother her younger siblings since her mamm’s death.
Selfish. Cathy mouthed the word, and Joanna nodded.
“You can’t tell what will happen in the future,” Cathy said. “I thought I’d be spending the rest of my life teaching other folks’ kinder, but soon I’ll be a wife and mother.” Her face was transformed by the love that shone when she spoke of Michael and his little girl, Allie.
“Yah, we all know how your life has changed,” Joanna teased. “Once you’re a married woman you won’t have time for us two maidals.”
Cathy’s eyes filled with tears. “Ach, no. Never think that. You will always be my dearest friends.” She caught their hands in hers.
“We know,” Rachel said quickly. “Joanna was just teasing.”
Joanna nodded, not having expected such a reaction to her words. “Friends always,” she said. “I’m going to be the single aunt who spoils my brothers’ kinder, once they get around to having any. Like my aunt Jessie.”
“You’ll never be like your aunt.” Rachel had always been thoroughly intimidated by Jessie. “Besides, at least you can talk to people, being right in town. There are still a few unmarried men, ain’t so?”
“What about Noah?” Cathy said. “After all, he’s right next door.”
“I’m not interested,” Joanna said firmly, dismissing a slight twinge. “Hard as it was to gain my independence, I’m not giving it up for anyone. Komm, now. Let’s lay out the squares we have so far. Aunt Jessie says she could have made two or three quilts in the time we’re spending on one.”
“She doesn’t count the time we spend talking. That’s part of making a friendship quilt, ain’t so?” Cathy said.
“Yah, it is. I just wish I could see you more often.” Rachel’s expression was wistful, and Joanna thought again that someone had to do something about Rachel. Or more specifically, about her selfish father. If only Rachel would rebel and insist on having some time of her own—but they all knew she wouldn’t do that.
Cathy started spreading out patches on the table. “And speaking of talking, what are the police saying and doing about the woman who had the accident?”
“Trying to identify her so they can find her family.” Joanna hesitated, still unsure she wanted to speak about the situation. But she could trust Cathy and Rachel, and if they heard about it elsewhere, they’d be hurt. “Chief Jamison had Noah and me see her at the hospital. They... He has the idea that she resembles me. He said maybe she was a distant relative who was looking for family.”
Rachel looked doubtful, but Cathy nodded. “It could be, I guess. We have some Englisch relations from my grandfather’s brother, but we’ve never seen them
. Grossmammi used to write to them. What do your mamm and daad say?”
“I haven’t asked them yet, but Aunt Jessie didn’t seem to think it was possible.” That was not exactly what Aunt Jessie had said, and the uncertainty coiled through her again.
“She should know,” Rachel said. She smoothed out the small pieces that would create her next square.
“The police could do a DNA test. Or take her fingerprints.” Cathy’s forehead wrinkled as soon as she’d said the words. “But I guess that wouldn’t really help identify her unless she had a police record.”
Joanna couldn’t help smiling at the thought. “She doesn’t look like a criminal. Besides, what would bring her to my door?” Again, uneasiness pricked her, as if clamoring for attention.
“I think you’d better see her again.” Cathy surprised both of them by the determination in her voice.
“Do you really think she should?” Rachel’s eyes darkened with alarm. “I couldn’t.”
“Of course you could. When someone’s hurt you have to try and help her.” Cathy, always caring for those who were small and helpless, didn’t leave any room to wiggle. “Maybe if you talk to her, she’ll wake up.”
The certainty in Cathy’s voice made Joanna feel ashamed. She’d always been the leader in their small group, the one who took on new challenges. But in this case, Cathy was the brave one.
If she went back to see the stranger, her parents wouldn’t like it. She knew that without having to ask. And Chief Jamison might not approve of her interference.
But the conviction that grew in her was too strong for argument. If the woman had been coming to see her, perhaps Joanna’s voice could wake her. She had to try.
* * *
NOAH LOCKED THE back door and started toward the stable. Caleb had hitched a ride back to the farm earlier, so he’d felt free to stay after closing and get his records up-to-date. Unfortunately, the books confirmed what he had already feared—his sales had dropped off since the new hardware chain store opened out by the highway last month.
Maybe it was just a temporary thing. He’d like to believe that his regular customers would be faithful, even if they might want to try the new store, just to see what it was like. But it was hard to stay optimistic when he could see his income dropping.
He stopped at the stable door, surprised. Joanna’s mare wasn’t in her stall. Wherever Joanna had gone this evening, she wasn’t back yet.
Not that it was any of his business, but when he saw how the darkness was drawing in, he hated to head out until he knew she was safely back. The lights were on in the upstairs apartment, meaning her aunt hadn’t gone with Joanna.
He leaned against the stable door, surveying the area between the stable and the building. Too little light, he decided, and too many dark shadows where trouble might hide.
Now, what had put that in his mind? Just because someone had fallen on Joanna’s stairs, that was no reason to imagine danger around every corner. Still, he ought to see about putting some sort of light back here. The building belonged to Joanna’s father, but he probably wouldn’t object.
A whicker called him back to the stall where his buggy horse was stabled. Blackie obviously wondered why they weren’t on their way home. He patted the horse’s arched neck. “Soon, old boy.”
Just then he heard the creaking of buggy wheels that meant Joanna was home. He might as well help her unharness the mare before he left.
He stepped outside, reaching for the mare’s headstall, and Joanna gasped. “Who is it?”
“It’s just me. Noah. Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” He’d almost said frighten but changed it at the last minute. Joanna wouldn’t admit to being frightened.
“Ach, Noah, don’t jump out at me like that.” Relief flooded her voice. “What are you still doing here?”
“Just getting my books up-to-date. I heard you coming and thought I’d give you a hand before I harness Blackie.”
“You don’t need to take time to help.” She slid down from the seat. “But it’s gut to have some company.” Her glance at the door to the stairs seemed apprehensive. “I know it’s silly, but I’m nervous about being out here after dark after what happened.”
“Yah. I’ve been imagining trouble in every shadow.” He started on the harness buckle. “We’d best have a light put in back here. Even so, it’ll take time to stop picturing that woman lying on the stairs.”
“It will.” She shivered, and he reached across the mare’s back to touch her hand lightly in reassurance.
“I was out at Cathy’s house to work on a quilt for her wedding. I forgot about how dark it would be to come home.”
“I thought you might have gone to your parents’ house.” He pushed the buggy to its usual place near the wall.
Joanna switched on the stable’s battery lantern, its yellow light showing him the frown on her face. “I probably should have. They’ve been fretting too much.”
“It’s natural, I’d say. You’re their little girl.” He stopped, wishing he hadn’t used those words. “I mean...”
“I know. And I am their little girl in every way that matters.” Her brown eyes darkened in the lantern glow. “That’s what makes it so hard to do as Chief Jamison wants.”
He nodded, wishing he could wipe the worry from her eyes. “Because of you being adopted. I understand. It will remind them.” He hesitated, not sure whether he should go on with what he’d started. “Have they kept that a secret at all? I had forgotten until you mentioned it.”
“A secret? Not exactly. I’ve known since I was old enough to understand. But Mamm... Well, I suppose she doesn’t like to be reminded that I was born to someone else.” She paused, her hand resting on the mare’s back. “Once, when she did talk about it, Mamm said that God had put them in the right place at the right time to find their precious little girl to love.”
Her voice, always so assured, trembled on the words, and he was filled with a longing to shield her from the things that were causing her pain.
“Maybe it would be better to let Chief Jamison ask them about it himself,” he suggested. “There’s no reason for you to do his work for him.”
Joanna gave a soft laugh as she guided Princess into her stall and turned to scoop oats from the metal bin. “That’s what Aunt Jessie said, only with more emphasis.”
Her laugh seemed to touch his heart. “Here’s a better idea. Turn Aunt Jessie loose on Jamison. I’m scared to death of her, and he’s probably no better.”
“That’s not a bad idea.” Her voice was still filled with amusement, making him doubly glad he’d lingered.
He reached out to close the stall door, but she grasped it first, and his hand landed on hers, the touch tingling. He had to stop this. Joanna clearly felt nothing but friendship for him, and anything else was unthinkable. No conscientious Amish parents would want him for their daughter, even if he was so careless as to take that chance. He removed his hand, stepping back.
“I...I’ll walk you to the door before I hitch up Blackie.”
“Denke.” Joanna spoke softly, her voice sounding a bit shaky. “I’m not afraid,” she added after a moment.
“I know. No reason to be.” But he fell into step with her as they started toward the house.
They moved beyond the range of lantern light, and the darkness closed around them. “I wonder...” Joanna’s voice came out of the dark. “I wonder what brought her here.”
He shook his head and then realized she couldn’t see him. “We may never know. I don’t mean that I think she’s going to die,” he added hastily. “Jamison is counting so much on her waking up, but I’ve heard sometimes people don’t remember after a blow to the head.”
“I thought of that, too.” They reached the stoop, and Joanna fumbled with her penlight and switched it on. By its glow, she looked pale and worried. “You know, I keep thinkin
g about how hard she must have fallen to give her head such a crack. I’ve tripped on the steps several times, and never had more than a bump on my knee.”
“Best to stop thinking about it, maybe.” He couldn’t help clasping her hands for a moment.
“Good advice.” She smiled up at him. “The problem is to take it.” She squeezed his hands lightly in return and then turned and ran quickly up the stairs.
* * *
JOANNA WAS AWARE of Noah lingering at the bottom until she reached the apartment. She and Aunt Jessie were fortunate to have such a helpful neighbor. She hadn’t known him all that well until they’d opened the store, despite being in the same church district. She hadn’t thought of it before, but now it seemed odd. He’d always held back from the normal closeness of the community, doing all and more that was expected of him, yet somehow never being part of the laughter and teasing that went on among Amish men with their peers.
Aunt Jessie appeared in the doorway to her bedroom. “You’re out late, ain’t so?”
“Not very.” She managed a smile. Aunt Jessie seemed to consider it her duty to act as mother, whether it was necessary or not. Still, it could be worse. “We had a lot to talk about with Cathy’s wedding coming up soon.”
She’d hoped that would placate her aunt, and it seemed to. Or at least, she didn’t follow up with any other pointed questions. She just gave an obvious look at the clock before closing her bedroom door.
Shrugging, Joanna headed for her own room. She’d best talk to her parents again tomorrow, or Mamm’s worrying might hit a new level.
A good night’s sleep helped Joanna focus, but it didn’t bring any enlightenment. The problem of the unknown woman who resembled her was just as serious as it had been. As soon as breakfast was over, she headed for the shop phone and called the phone shanty at the farm to say she’d be coming to supper.