“That’s what you think.”
“Just a trim.” Angie lifted a long lock of Hannah’s hair. “It’s all thin on the ends. We’ll trim a couple of inches and give it a few layers. You’ll be amazed at how much better it looks.”
Her family already thought she was some kind of heathen. “Do it fast.”
Angie sprang into action. “Just close your eyes. I’ll be gentle.”
Minutes later, locks of russet hair lay around her in a heap. Did she even dare look at it—or touch it? Her scalp felt light as air, an odd sensation. Reaching up, she ran her hand through her hair. She’d been shorn. A smile played at her lips. She should have done this years ago.
“You look amazing.” Angie’s lips tilted in a smile. “Go look.”
Hannah went to the small half bath off the living room. Her hair was still long, reaching just past her bra, but the ends were straight and even. And the long layers Angie had cut into it released the natural curl. It didn’t even look like hers. She seemed different, wiser. And maybe she was.
“Can I still put it up?”
“Yes, but you’re not going to. You’re going to start wearing it down. It’s gorgeous and needs to be admired.”
“I don’t want to draw too much attention to myself.” Except from Matt. The stray thought made her cheeks burn. She was still a married woman.
Angie came up behind her. “Now for a little makeup. Though you really don’t need it. Your skin is so perfect.”
“I think this is enough for one day,” Hannah said.
“Nope, we’re going the whole hog. Sit still.” Angie stroked on eye shadow and blush. “You look amazing. Now for clothes. I want you to see what you look like in something that fits.”
“It’s nearly time for bed,” Hannah said, glancing at her reflection one more time. Was that really her?
“This won’t take long. I’ve got a dress that will look killer on you.” Angie grabbed her hand and dragged her down the hall. “Just try it on.”
The spare room had a full-length mirror, and Hannah averted her eyes from it. Growing up, she’d been taught it was wrong to dwell on her appearance, and until she’d moved away with Reece, she’d never even seen herself in a full-length mirror. Even now, she found it hard to examine her body.
Angie slid open the closet door and pulled out an umber sheath Hannah had seen her wear once. It was silky beneath her fingers, alluring. “I don’t think so,” she said, thrusting it back into Angie’s hand. She shuddered at the memories that flooded her.
“Just for a second,” her friend coaxed. She pushed it back into Hannah’s hands.
“Can I go to bed afterward? No more making me over?”
“Okay. For tonight anyway. I want to knock the socks off the producers next week.”
Hannah sighed and slipped off her long skirt and blouse. Angie slid the dress over her head, and it fell over her body in a soft shimmer.
Angie’s eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open. “Wow. You look amazing.”
The hem stopped at the top of her knees. The fabric was more like that of a nightgown than a dress. Hannah ran her palm over her hip. The material barely covered her, and she shivered when the cool air touched her heated skin.
“Here. Put these on.” Angie pulled out a pair of strappy tan sandals.
Just get it over with. Hannah stepped into the shoes and turned to look at the stranger in the mirror. The dress fit perfectly, outlining her shape. The color made her skin glow, and her hair seemed brighter by contrast. “I look like a streetwalker,” she said.
“Okay, maybe I used a little too much blush and eye shadow. But you look beautiful,” Angie said.
Where was the line between tasteful and overboard? Where was the balance? Just like fine quilts, a good life required balance. She hadn’t found it yet. This dress wasn’t her. Her fingers grabbed the hem and began to yank it upward just as the back door banged. “Is someone here?” She jerked the fabric down to her knees again and rushed down the hall. Reece stood in the doorway.
Dressed in black pants and a white shirt, he looked like a typical Amish man. “How pretty you look, hon. Did you dress up just for me?” He crossed the distance between them in four steps and grabbed her arm. “We need to talk.”
The strength left Hannah’s muscles. “Reece, what are you doing here?”
Angie grabbed Hannah’s other hand. “Let go of her!”
“This isn’t your concern,” Reece said. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get to your room and keep your trap shut. Otherwise, I’ll have to shut it for you.”
“It’s okay,” Hannah said. “I’ll talk to him.” She glanced from Angie to the phone.
Angie nodded. “I’ll be in my room. Call if you need me.”
Hannah could still feel Reece’s eyes on her, stripping her of her self-regard, exposing her weakness, her guilt. Even with the darkest cloak of night around her, he would find her. She could travel to Tibet and make her home with the monks, and he would know. It was hopeless to dream of a life without his shadow blotting out the sunshine.
She found her voice. “Leave me alone, Reece. I don’t want to talk to you.”
“Let’s sit in the living room.” His fingers tightened on her wrist, and he tugged her to the sofa.
She sank onto it, all strength gone. How long before the Rockville police showed up? Or Matt?
Reece settled beside her. “I thought you’d want to hear an update on our daughter.”
“Our daughter is dead. You killed her.”
“Oh, she’s very much alive, Hannah. She’s been looking for her mommy. She needs you. I’m not good with kids.”
“You—you don’t have her.”
He coiled a lock of hair around his finger. “Are you sure? Hon, we belong together. You know it too. Quit fighting how you feel. No one has ever loved me like you. I’m lost without you. Come home. We’ll settle in Shipshewana. The bishop there has promised to help you repent and come under his guidance.”
Hannah wanted to shut out the seductive sound of his voice. He was always able to make her doubt herself. She desperately wanted to know more, but she knew he was playing with her, toying with the scalding emotions that burned her chest. “Where is she?”
“With me. Don’t you think she deserves a mother and a father?” His voice dropped to a softer pitch, sweet and gentle. “Come home, Hannah, and we’ll forget everything, all the past hurts. I won’t hit you again, I promise.”
Hannah steeled herself against the pleading tone. “It’s a promise you can’t keep, Reece. I don’t believe you have her. Do you have a picture of the two of you together?” Her hands were shaking, and she clutched them together.
“Not on me.”
A siren screamed in the distance, then drew closer. He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “I’d better go. But I’ll get proof.”
REECE SLAMMED THE door of his truck. She just didn’t understand yet. Women were the weaker vessel. Why couldn’t she understand he only wanted what was best for her? They belonged together. He only felt whole and strong when she was with him. His life had gone down the toilet after she left. Lost jobs, unpaid bills, too much drinking. But she would come back. He had to believe it.
The sirens screamed past him. He’d have to snatch the kid, get a picture of the two of them together. He hadn’t wanted to have to do that unless there was no other way. The law would get involved. It would have been better for her to come home, then the two of them could go get custody. But the kid was the only thing that would bring Hannah home.
No matter. He’d have it all—that perfect little family everyone craved. The kid would adore him, and Hannah would rush to meet him when he came home from work.