Mist rose from the valley where the creek ran, and the new day’s sunlight skimmed the tops of the trees. Pulling her sweater around her a little tighter, Hannah leaned against her car, sipping a cup of coffee and waiting for Sarah to grab something from inside the house.

The trees swayed in the morning air, bearing leaves from light yellows to deep golds, from bright reds to sharp maroons. The movement seemed to beg Hannah to linger and watch. She loved Owl’s Perch, always had. And now, with healing running through most of the relationships she’d once left behind, the beauty of the place strengthened her. Zabeth would be so pleased for her, and that brought even more comfort.

In jeans and a sweater, Lissa played in the soft dirt near the edge of the garden. She seemed to love the feel and aroma of tilled soil as much as Hannah.

Sarah tapped on an upstairs window, signaling that she’d be down in a minute. She barely looked like the young adult who less than a month ago had poured gasoline around her and threatened to strike a match. She’d needed medication to help, but it seemed to Hannah that, more than meds, she’d needed to find forgiveness and have a sense of power over her life.

Without any doubt, Paul had done a great job of helping her find much of what she needed. His ability to help Sarah seemed more connected to who he was than to his degree. Hannah knew little of psychologists as a whole, but this one used his education as a tool for offering insights and wisdom for living.

Sarah still easily lapsed into talking like a baby and continued with some very odd behaviors, but she was making good progress.

She bounded out the back door, carrying a package wrapped in brown paper with an arrangement of fall leaves on the top for a bow. “Here.” She held the gift toward Hannah.

Tears welling in her eyes, Hannah accepted it. They’d come such a long way, and like a garden in spring, Sarah’s heart was being cultivated, making all they’d been through worthwhile. She removed the wrapping to find the “Past and Future” quilt. “Sarah, this was on loan to you. It can’t be given to me.”

Sarah pouted. “He gave it to me.” It was a few seconds before she seemed to regain her thoughts. “Besides, I asked Mary. So listen up and hush up.” She cleared her throat. “You saw to it that the quilt was made from patches of cloth from family and friends as well as every Amish household in our community. We are a part of your past, and we’ll always be a part of your future. I want you to have it so you’ll always remember who you are.”

In spite of the childlike voice her sister spoke with, it seemed to Hannah that she saw deeply. There were many days Hannah wasn’t at all sure who she was. Memories of her Amish childhood swirled like falling leaves. She slid her hand across the quilt. “Thank you. I’ll cherish it always.” She drew a sharp breath, trying not to cry.

“Mary gave this to Paul to keep him warm while he waited for you to return.” She picked imaginary lint off the quilt.

Wishing Sarah hadn’t reminded her about Paul waiting, Hannah simply nodded. It was frustrating and embarrassing that part of her wanted to know how long he’d waited. “I’m grateful you’re better, and it means a lot to know you’re doing well enough to want to give this to me.”

Sarah gazed at the sky, growing distracted. “Before we started having trouble getting along, we used to lie in bed each night and talk. Remember?”

“Yes.”

“You used to say the hardest thing in life was that no one understood you or helped you find yourself.”

Hannah cupped her sister’s cold cheek against her palm, causing Sarah to look at her. “Those were childish thoughts. Life is about doing what’s right and moving on.” But even as she said the words, she knew lives were shaped by kindred spirits and support…or the lack of them. How different would her life be if her father had understood her rather than tried to dictate who she was to become?

Sarah leaned her cheek into Hannah’s hand, looking more like a child than an eighteen-year-old. “Paul sees you, Hannah.”

The words hit so hard, Hannah fought against tears. It was true. She knew it was, but it didn’t matter. Couldn’t matter. Surely even Sarah could understand that. Hannah tried to keep that truth from sinking in, but it burned through her, and her heart marched against her chest as if it wanted to get free and run to Paul on its own.

Martin tried to see her. The fact that he didn’t sometimes was not his fault. He tried, and that should be enough. No, it had to be enough. What was wrong with her? Was she so weak that her heart wanted the freedom to long for one man when she was committed to another?

She stood straighter. “I have a new family now, dear sister.” She pulled Sarah into a hug and held her. “Thank you for the quilt.” Hannah kept her in her arms, savoring their newfound victories. Finally she took a step back. “I need to go.”

After a few last hugs with Luke and Mary, Hannah and Lissa climbed into the car and headed for Ohio. Fastened into her car seat, Lissa used her CD player and earphones, snacked a little, and slept soundly throughout the trip, leaving Hannah to ponder fairly uninterrupted. Her mind took more twists and turns than the back roads. Soon enough they were on the turnpike, putting mile after mile between them and Owl’s Perch.

She rapped her palms against the steering wheel. It’d happened. She’d faced the worst of herself—the horrid, ugly truth—and found peace. Even faced things that couldn’t be covered in explanations of events or expressed in a multitude of words, yet Paul seemed to understand every nuance. But that bothered her for reasons she refused to think about.

Martin’s two-story stone home came into view, making the drive here feel about two minutes long even though she’d been in the car for hours and it was now past lunchtime.

“Lissa, honey, it’s time to wake up.”

She began stirring. Hannah reached across to the passenger’s seat and stroked the fabric of the “Past and Future” quilt, ready to begin life again, only this time with a serene connectedness to the missing parts of herself. Regrets, yes. They were inevitable, but there wasn’t one part of her that was running or hiding or afraid to look in the mirror concerning her past.

She studied the stately house. The immense windows, arched entryway, stacked-stone siding, and meticulous lawns were astoundingly different from the life she’d left behind hours ago.

If it hadn’t been for Martin’s willingness to barter with her, she wouldn’t own a car. But he had done more than help her carry the load of her new life. He became her friend. After parking and cutting off the engine, she got out and opened the door beside Lissa.

She raised her arms, waiting to be unbuckled. “What’re you smiling about?”

Hannah lifted the slight kindergartener from the seat, giving her a kiss on the cheek, and settled Lissa on her hip. She then headed for the back door. “I was thinking about your uncle Martin. I have so many things I want to tell him, things he’ll want to hear.” She closed the car door. “But first I’m sure we need to do damage control to the house. Then we’ll unpack, go by your school and pick up any work you’ve missed, spend at least an hour at the Tuesday quilting, and get groceries. Next we’ll cook a meal, and after dinner we’ll get your makeup work all squared away for school tomorrow.”

She opened the storm door and twisted the knob to the back door, but the door remained shut. Martin always left the door unlocked and then set the alarm. That way Hannah could get in easily and then turn the alarm off.

“I’ve got to go potty,” Lissa whispered.

“Okay, sweetie, just a minute.”

Keeping the storm door open with her backside, she set Lissa’s feet on the patio and began digging for her keys. After shoving the house key into the lock, she turned the key. The bolt clicked open. She turned the handle and pushed. The door didn’t open.

“Hannah.” Lissa sounded desperate. “I need to go.”

“Just one more second.” Hannah leaned her shoulder into the door. “I know it unlocked. Why isn’t it opening?”

“Now.” Lissa elongated the word while dancing around, holding her jeans.

Hannah released the storm door and held out her hand. “Let’s go to the cottage instead.”

While they hurried across the yard, she located the correct key on the ring. After unlocking the deadbolt, she tried turning the doorknob. Someone had flipped the handle lock, and she didn’t have a key to that. No one had a key to that. Exasperated, she kept her voice as cheerful as possible. “Lissa, honey, I think you’re going to have to use an outhouse like Mammi Annie has, minus the actual house.”

Lissa laughed. “I don’t think Uncle Martin will like that. He said me and Kevin weren’t allowed to do that no more.”

Their mother had trained them that when they were outside playing, they weren’t to bother her by coming inside to use a bathroom. It was one of many lazy sides to Faye’s child-rearing methods that, thankfully, Martin didn’t allow. “He’ll understand this one time.”

While Lissa hid behind the bushes, Hannah called Martin. He didn’t answer his cell phone, so she called his private line at his office. He didn’t answer there either. It made no sense for the doors to be locked. She sat on the steps of her cottage, and Lissa soon joined her.

“Hannah?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m hungry.”

Suppressing a sigh, Hannah smiled. “Well then, we’ll just change plans. How about if we go by the grocery store and get some yogurt and fruit for lunch and then go to your school and get your makeup work? Surely by then we can reach your uncle.”

“Can I have an ice cream on a stick?”

“We’ll see.”

They were halfway out of the subdivision when Hannah’s cell phone rang. “Hi.”

“Hey, sweetheart. Sorry I missed your call. I was in the middle of something. So are you home yet?” “I was, but I couldn’t get in.”

“Was it locked?”

“From the inside, like someone had latched the keyless deadbolt. And someone had twisted the little lock on the door handle to the cottage too, and we both know no one has a key to that.”

The phone line was quiet. “Oh.” His voice sounded stilted, and the line went silent again. “It’s just a mix-up and no big deal.”

“Okay. Did I tax your patience by staying an extra night, and now you’ve locked me out, or what?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“Martin.” She crooned his name. “You’re acting odd, which is outside of your usual aim to be charming, so what gives?”

“I renegotiated with Laura, and she now works full-time as a nanny and housekeeper. She moved in over the weekend and has a thing about keeping the place locked up.” He blurted out the info quickly.

“Oh.” She wanted to say more, but the words didn’t form. Agreeing to hire Laura part-time had been a concession on her part, not a step plan. He’d been right that they needed her. Hannah would readily admit she’d been wrong to avoid getting help, but to move into having full-time, live-in help and not even talk to her about it?

Phones were ringing in the background at Martin’s office, and she could hear him being paged. “She’s not there?” he asked.

“Her car isn’t. I didn’t knock or anything.”

“Did you try the front door? She couldn’t have used the keyless deadbolt on the front and back doors unless she’s inside the house.”

Trying to process this from his viewpoint, she still couldn’t dispel the disappointment. “No, I didn’t think about trying the front door. It didn’t occur to me that someone would be in the house.” She steered the car to the curb so she wasn’t trying to talk on the phone while shifting gears.

“You’re upset?”

“I…I’m not sure. If you feel we need her…but to not even talk to me…”

“But you agreed to her being there part-time, and we’ve both come to like and trust her, so I figured what possible harm could be done? Something came up, and I needed to go in to work on Saturday. When I called to see if she could come over, she’d been out trying to find a more affordable apartment than the one she was living in. Since we have the guest-room suite off of the kitchen…I went for it and asked her spur of the moment. I should’ve told you.”

“Yep.” Despite feeling hurt, she kept her tone light and easy. They needed to talk about this, but he meant no harm, and it was his house, his niece and nephew, and his girl who was juggling the typical life of a twenty-year-old—college, work, and family. Still, something about this nagged at her, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

“So you’re not going to be angry?”

“Depends. Is that a request or a demand?” she teased. “Just so you know, the answer is request. And because of this, you owe me.”

“Yeah?” He sounded more like himself again. “Every time I try to give you anything, you balk, so what could I possibly owe you?”

“Um, I’m off tonight, and there’s some peace and quiet for all four of us at a little place up a winding, dirt driveway. Has a wood stove…”

He moaned his disapproval. “I’m going to put that place up for sale if you keep this up.”

“Watch it, Palmer. I know where you live…although I can’t manage to get in, even with a key.”

He chuckled. “Let’s not all go tonight, okay? Laura can do everything for Kevin and Lissa—meals, homework, and getting them into bed. That frees us to go somewhere really nice and quiet.”

The niggling feeling returned, making her wonder just what it was about Laura’s living in the house and taking over full-time that bothered her. Was it her own ego? Did she want to be everything for Martin and this shifted things? At sixty-two years old, Laura wasn’t exactly a threat in the attraction department.

“I’m sure Ol’ Gert is in need of people attention.”

“I contacted the Sawyer family, the ones who live up the road from the cabin. Their oldest boy and his sister are feeding her and riding her regularly. It’ll make tending to her during the winter easier now that you’re living in the cottage.”

Hannah wondered when he’d hired the Sawyer teens to take care of the horse. “But even if we don’t go to the cabin, I haven’t had any time with Kevin yet.”

“Your guilt is working overtime again. He’s fine. We had a great weekend, and he didn’t miss you anymore than when you pull weekends helping deliver babies.”

Torn between what Martin wanted and what she wanted, she said nothing.

“Come on, phone girl,” he spoke up. “I deserve a night out with just us. I have the state engineering exams next weekend. I’ve been studying like crazy, and I want a real date, okay?”

“I did miss being here for your birthday and even for the makeup date for your birthday. We’ll go wherever you’d like.”

“Well, then I’ll make reservations for us and surprise you. I’ll also call a locksmith and have him replace the doorknob on the cottage. Hopefully he’ll be able to get to it soon.” Someone paged him over the intercom again. “I’m looking forward to tonight, but I’m late for a meeting that can’t start without me.”

“Not a problem. See you tonight.”

After grabbing a bite to eat, Hannah and Lissa ran a few errands before returning to Martin’s with Lissa’s schoolwork in hand. Laura was unloading groceries when they arrived. Martin had been right. Laura had gone out the front door, and Hannah could have entered that way. While Lissa prattled to Laura about the trip, Hannah went into Martin’s home office and called the nursing school. She explained to the director of nursing about her family needing her, but she didn’t go into detail. Hannah waited while Kim looked up her records. In encouraging tones, Kim told her she had to make up any tests and clinical rotations she’d missed, but she wasn’t in danger of not graduating.

The good news coursed through Hannah, bringing her fresh energy. Leaving Lissa to get her makeup work done with Laura’s help, she headed to the birthing clinic, ready to see her ever-faithful Tuesday afternoon quilters. She might not get time at Zabeth’s cabin tonight, but she’d sneak in a few hours with her Old Order Amish quilting friends.

Hannah turned onto the gravel driveway of the birthing clinic. To her right was the health center. Past that, farther to the right, was the quilting house. The sight of the shop awakened something odd inside her. Horses and buggies were hitched in various places near the quilting house. Smoke rose from the chimney, assuring her the Amish women hoped she would arrive this afternoon. This community of Amish seemed more open to learn and less likely to judge quickly. If there was one thing she would like to take back to her Amish community in Pennsylvania, it’d be the grace she’d found here—with Zabeth, Dr. Lehman, and these Amish women.

The sprawling branches of the oaks were carrying full-peak colors: gold, orange, yellow, and brick. In a few weeks the leaves would turn brown and fall off, and the subtle beauty of barren branches would replace the intense color.

Hannah entered the small room. A chorus of welcomes hit her so hard her eyes misted.

Sadie rose from the table and engulfed her in a hug, whispering a welcome in Pennsylvania Dutch. “Kumm, saag uns wege dei Bsuch do yetz.”

Is this what Hannah came for, to tell them about her latest visit with her Amish family? She was here to answer medical questions while they worked on another quilt for charity, wasn’t she?

She gazed at the group. Over a dozen women were here. Verna pointed to a metal plate sitting on the wood stove. “Fresh-baked chocolate-chip cookies.”

The mist in Hannah’s eyes turned to full, brimming tears, but why?

Lois offered a wobbly smile. “They aren’t that bad. We promise.”

Sadie squeezed Hannah’s hand as the room broke into laughter. These women knew what it took to live Old Order Amish, and they understood the pain of breaking away. They’d had loved ones who’d left.

Today she wanted more than just to leave with a sense of peace about her future. None of them would ever prod her to talk, but they were willing to listen, and she wanted to tell them of her past—all of it. And she wanted to share her present, in hopes of never forgetting to carry into her future some part of who she’d once been.

By the time she left the quilting house, it was clear that her emotions had been more raw from her visit back home than she’d realized, but the women’s love and acceptance wrapped her in warmth. She hurried to Martin’s place, determined to get as much time with Kevin as possible before leaving for the evening. Guilt was already weighing on her, but she and Martin did need an evening to talk. As she climbed out of her car, Kevin barreled out the back door and ran into her arms.

She went to her knees, feeling a thousand hopes and dreams for this child as he held her tight. “Hey, how are you?”

His little face beamed as he released her. “I got something new. Want to see it?”

“Absolutely.”

Kevin pulled her into the house.

“Hannah,” Laura called.

Almost to the stairway, Hannah and Kevin stopped midstep. “Yes?”

Laura appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. “Martin’s secretary called. The locksmith won’t be here until after eight.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

Kevin tugged on her hand, and they went up the stairs and to his room, where he talked nonstop for more than an hour. At some point the doorbell rang, and Laura answered it, apparently receiving a delivery. After Kevin finished talking and was ready to do something besides chat with Hannah, she grabbed her overnight bag out of her car and went to Martin’s room to shower and get ready for her date. When she stepped into his bedroom, on his bed was a box with a bright red bow and her name in bold letters across it. This had to be what was delivered.

She opened the card.

Since you’re locked out of the cottage, I thought you might need a dress for tonight.

Love you, Martin

The note was personal enough, but it wasn’t in his handwriting. She opened the box and lifted out a red, formfitting, silk dress covered with a loose layer of matching chiffon. The dress had ruched cap sleeves, which would show more skin than she was comfortable with. Not at all sure what to think, she held the dress against her body. It was gorgeous, but…

Something inside the box caught her eye, and she moved a layer of tissue to reveal a black silk jacket. She couldn’t help but smile. Martin thought of everything all the time. It wasn’t the least bit practical, and there was no telling what he’d paid for it, but for his birthday dinner he’d bought her a dress, and she intended to wear it.

Leaving the jacket on the bed, she took the dress and her overnight bag into Martin’s bathroom. After a soothing shower and drying her hair for a few minutes, she slid into the red dress.

Red.

She gazed at herself, her long, curly hair draped about her. She didn’t look anything like the women she’d grown up with, the ones she’d spent time with over the weekend, or the ones she’d been with this afternoon. But Martin would definitely be pleased. She paused, looking into her eyes. Yet she had to admit that being Plain was more than just a part of who she’d once been, as hidden as that seemed while wearing a red silk and chiffon dress.

She grabbed the pins and began winding her hair into a bun. A rap at the bedroom door caused her to peer out of the bathroom.

Martin leaned against the doorframe, smiling and looking as confident as ever. “I think I like your being locked out of the cottage and forced to wear something different.”

She slid the last hairpin into place and stepped across the threshold before turning a complete circle.

“Oh yeah.” He nodded his approval, his eyes fixed. “Definitely. Amy clearly has great taste.”

“You hadn’t seen it before now?”

“Too swamped. Amy Clarke picked it out and then called me with a description. I made sure she bought a jacket, just in case it showed too much skin for your liking.”

“Well, according to the look in your eye, you’re pleased with the outcome of your joint effort with Amy.”

“We’ve teamed up on projects for years, but we’ve never yet produced anything near this gorgeous.”

She crossed the room. When Martin opened his arms, thoughts of Paul popped into her mind, as if he had his arms open for her. Suddenly a bit shaken and weak-kneed, she snuggled into Martin’s embrace.

He held her for a moment before shifting and planting a kiss on her lips. Then he put a bit of space between them, keeping her face inches from his. “How’s Paul?”

Slipping from his embrace, she stared at him. “What?”

“Lissa was just telling me that he was injured and you helped him.”

“Oh…yeah…” She adjusted the sleeve of her dress, unsure how to explain what’d taken place, really taken place. “A lot of good things happened for me, and I’d planned on our talking about the whole trip later tonight.”

“I’m not interested in the whole trip, just the parts that go down memory lane with an ex-fiancé.” His eyes and his tone held the intensity of an owner of a thriving engineering firm.

She knew right then that trying to explain what she and Paul had experienced this past weekend was a really bad plan. Martin had been her closest ally since she’d landed here, broken and friendless. But she’d become the woman he was in love with, the one he intended to marry. And maybe, inside of that relationship, full disclosure of every feeling wasn’t a wise move, at least until she understood them herself.

Placing her hand in the center of his chest, she studied his handsome face, remembering dozens of parts of the journey that had bonded them in ways no one else could understand. “Paul and I found some closure, and now I own parts of myself that were stolen from me years ago. I came home ready to tell you what went on, feeling like I can begin life anew and having a peace with my ghosts that I never expected. And I don’t deserve the tone in your voice.”

Do I?

The sensation of Paul opening his arms and her slipping into them had been an unwelcome thought, one that had to be more symbolic than evidence of hidden desires. Her love for and connection to Martin completely outweighed all else. He and the children were her future, her freedom, her strength.

Martin eased his arms around her. “I didn’t mean to have a tone.”

She dipped her chin, allowing him to kiss her forehead. “You’re honest and to the point about whatever is on your mind. I love that about you, even if you ruined a good moment.”

He took her left hand and cradled it in his, running his finger over the ring he’d given her. Turning her hand over, palm up, he eased her fingers open. “My heart is right here.” He lifted her hand and kissed the center of her palm. “Have I ruined this greeting completely, or can I get it back?”

“Wow,” she whispered. “I’d say it’s definitely not ruined.”