“Sarah, what would you do if you’d married a husband who beat you?” she asked. She’d thought her friend would answer quickly and tersely, but she kept silent and pondered the question.
“I don’t know,” Sarah said after Hannah began to think she wouldn’t answer at all. “I would not want my girls to see such a thing. I would not want to experience anything like that. I hope I would try to love the violence out of him.”
“Some people can’t be loved enough,” Hannah said. “I tried. Reece was too far gone.”
“Not for God,” Sarah said quickly.
“But I’m not God,” Hannah said. “And I did my best.” But had she? She’d been quick to slip out to sales to look for quilts in spite of his orders. Had she ever put him first? She’d been so lonely in the early months, so ill equipped for marriage. At least half the blame was probably hers.
Sarah put her hand on Hannah’s shoulder. “I’m not going to judge you, Hannah. I don’t know what shoes you’ve walked in.” She released her and went to pull out the quilting frame. “Now let’s get your quilt finished. The others are coming. We can talk later. But please, I so want your forgiveness.”
The hard coil of bitterness began to unwind in Hannah’s heart at the desperate plea in Sarah’s voice. “I forgive you.” She said the words not knowing if she meant them.
Hannah heard them then, women talking and laughing as they poured into the house with their needles and thimbles. Thunder rolled and rain swept the windows all afternoon, but none of them minded. By suppertime, the quilt was finished, and Hannah knew love never died. It just sometimes went underground.
MATT HAD NEVER seen anything like the busyness going on outside two days after the fire. Sunday had been the Amish day of rest, but they tackled the job with gusto on Monday. No wonder Hannah missed the warmth and love of these people. He turned to work on the pancakes he was making for the crowd eating at tables outside.
“We’ll have a new barn up by the weekend if the rain holds off,” Luca said over breakfast. “When the tornado struck southern Indiana a few years ago, Amish friends from all over had the mess cleaned up and barns rebuilt in a couple of weeks.”
“I believe it,” Matt said. “The storm coming through here over the next few days is supposed to be ferocious with heavy rains and flooding.” Hannah stood beside him as he worked. His movements were awkward because of his burned hands. “Hannah”—he spoke too softly for anyone but her to hear—“I checked on the cemeteries in Wabash. No luck.”
She inhaled softly. “Thanks for checking. It is as I suspected. He told me one of his drinking buddies brought my daughter here and gave her away.”
More of Reece’s lies? A grave would have proved his daughter wasn’t hers, but Matt’s hope had faded fast over the past week. His cell phone rang as he poured more batter into the skillet.
Hannah tried to take the spatula from him, but Luca shook his head and took his place instead. Matt shrugged and glanced at the caller ID. His grandmother’s name rolled across the screen. “Hey, Trudy,” he said. He noticed he had missed two calls this morning. Must have been when he was in the shower.
Her voice was at a near shriek. “I can’t find Caitlin!”
“Wait, I don’t understand. Caitlin is at your house?”
“Gina dropped her off this morning for a few hours, said she had something she had to take care of. She said she’d call you to come get her. I fixed Caitlin’s breakfast, and when I called her to come eat, I couldn’t find her. I’ve looked everywhere.”
For the rest of his life, Matt would remember how this moment felt: the way his blood seemed to freeze in his veins, then pulsed to his feet, leaving his vision swimming. Time slowed to a standstill. He could hear the oil sizzling, Luca clearing his throat, Hannah sipping her coffee. Every muscle in his throat spasmed, and he couldn’t force out a word.
With a supreme effort, Matt got his tongue to work. “Trudy, calm down.” Stand back. Think this through. It was up to him to rescue his daughter. What would he do if he got a call about a missing child? “When did you see her last?”
“She was coloring on the porch. About half an hour ago.”
“When did you notice she was missing?” He was aware of Luca and Hannah looking at him with wide eyes.
“I called her for breakfast. When she didn’t come, I yelled again, then went to the porch. I couldn’t find her anywhere. She’s not in the barn either.”
Matt forced himself not to react, to hold his composure. “I’ll be right there. I’ll call headquarters.”
He turned his back on the Schwartzes and called Captain Sturgis. He promised to send out a deputy to meet him at his grandmother’s. When Matt slipped his phone onto his belt, he turned to face Hannah and Luca. “My daughter is missing. I’ve got to go.”
Hannah put her hand to her mouth. “I’ll come with you.”
He needed all the help he could get. Caitlin needed to be found quickly. She was more important than his reputation with Hannah. “Thanks.”
“I will come also,” Luca said. “Will you drive us?”
“I’ll get Angie too. We’ll round up other friends to help search. Maybe she wandered off.”
Matt’s eyes burned unexpectedly. He’d heard about the way the Amish rallied around folks in need, even those who weren’t part of their church, but this was the first time he’d seen it firsthand. “Thanks,” he mumbled, unable to get out more than that.
Hannah sprang for the steps. “Angie, Sarah, come now. We need to help look for Matt’s five-year-old daughter.”
Hearing the words spoken out loud by someone else was almost as painful as hearing them the first time. A missing child. Every parent’s nightmare. He’d been on the other end a time or two—the deputy talking to parents in such a situation. He should have been more compassionate, more sympathetic. Now he knew what it was like to hear the world shatter in a moment.
Focus. He had to focus. “The others can follow in Angie’s car. I need to go now,” he told Luca. He called Ajax, and the dog came running.
“I’m ready.” The other man grabbed his black hat and slapped it over his Dutch boy haircut.
Luca followed Matt to the SUV. Hannah rushed to join them. “Angie will bring Sarah and any others with her.” She got in the front seat with him, and Luca got in the back with the dog.
The tires shrieked in protest when Matt tromped on the gas pedal. It echoed the scream building in his own head—a babbling plea begging God to spare his baby girl. Hannah tried to talk to him, to pray with him, but the words didn’t penetrate the pain blocking out all coherent thought. He knew he should confess everything, but he couldn’t get his mouth to work.
The clouds released a burst of heavy rain. Matt barreled through the downpour to his grandmother’s. As he pulled in the drive, he heard the sound of a siren screaming toward them. Never before had he experienced the way that familiar sound could seem so ominous, a harbinger of personal, devastating pain.
He slammed on the brakes and hurtled from the vehicle into the driving rain. The last time he’d seen her, Caitlin had come running to meet him. Taking the steps in one leap, he flung open the door and rushed into the house.
His grandmother was wrapping sandwiches in the kitchen. “You’ll need these,” she said, thrusting a bag of food into his hand.
As if he could even think about eating until his daughter was safe in his arms. He took the bag but put it on the counter. “Was she upset this morning?”
“Yes. She said she wanted to go home.” Trudy’s voice held censure. She stared at Hannah, then glanced at Matt. Her gaze lingered on Luca standing by the door with his hat in his hands. “What are you thinking to bring one of them here?”
Matt didn’t have time for her prejudices. Ajax pressed his nose against his leg and whined. Matt swallowed his turmoil. He had to focus.
Car doors slammed, and moments later a fist pounded on the door. “Sheriff’s department,” Blake called.
“Come on in,” Matt yelled.
Blake and another deputy joined them in the kitchen. “You okay, buddy?” Blake asked.
“Caitlin’s gone,” he told the deputies.