HOME AGAIN. JOANNA KOHLER moved to the door as the small bus that connected the isolated Pennsylvania valley towns drew up to the stop at River Haven.
“Denke, Harry.” She lifted a hand in a wave as she stepped down. The driver was Englisch, but he’d been around the Amish long enough to know a few words.
The elderly driver nodded, obviously ready for her to get off so he could finish his last trip of the day. Joanna stepped clear as he closed the door and pulled out.
Glad to be home, Joanna adjusted her packages and started down River Haven’s Main Street. Everything was closed, of course. It was after seven, and the days grew shorter with what seemed increasing speed in October. She drew her sweater closed against the nip in the air and thought with pleasure of a bowl of hot chicken soup for supper.
Another few steps brought her to the quilt shop, where she paused, gazing with satisfaction at the window display she’d put up over the weekend. Quilts in autumn colors spilled across an old wooden wheelbarrow, and the pumpkins and autumn leaves she’d added drew the eye. At least, she hoped so. Smiling at her own enthusiasm for the shop she and her aunt ran, she rounded the corner and headed back down the alley toward the enclosed stairway that led to their apartment above the shop.
A whicker from the small stable in the backyard informed her that Princess would not let her go inside without some attention. After setting her packages on the stoop, she followed the noise into the stable, switching on her penlight as she stepped inside. Princess’s head poked over the stall bar as she whinnied, the white blaze shining in the light.
“Get on with you,” Joanna scolded. “I know perfectly well that Jonas fed and watered you.” She patted the soft nose and reached for a carrot from the can that hung beside the door.
But the can wasn’t there. Frowning, Joanna moved the thin beam of light. It picked up the can that had tumbled on the floor, carrots spilling out of it. Odd. For sure her younger brother wouldn’t have been so careless. The carrots would attract mice, if not something worse.
It took a moment to clean up and give Princess her treat. Joanna double-checked to be sure the nail holding the can was firm and stepped outside. She’d tease Jonas about this one, that was certain sure.
A glow of lamplight from the back of the hardware store next door allowed her to cross to the yard to her door without her flashlight. Noah Troyer, her neighbor, must be working late. Her side of the building was in darkness, since Aunt Jessie was away.
Joanna fit her key into the lock, and the door swung open almost before she’d turned it. Collecting her packages, she started up the steps, not bothering to switch on her penlight. The stairway was familiar enough, and she didn’t need—
Her foot hit something. Joanna stumbled forward, grabbing at the railing to keep herself from falling. The packages tumbled down the steps. What in the world...? Reaching out, her hand touched something soft, warm, something that felt like human flesh. She gasped, pulling back.
Clutching her self-control with all her might, Joanna grasped the penlight, aimed it and switched it on.
A woman lay sprawled on the stairs. The beam illuminated high-heeled boots, jeans, a suede jacket. Stiffening her courage, she aimed the light higher. The woman was young, Englisch, with brown hair that hung to her shoulders. It might have been soft and shining if not for the bright blood that matted it.
Panic sent Joanna’s pulses racing, and she uttered a silent prayer, reaching tentatively to touch the face. Warm... Thank the gut Lord. She—whoever she was—was breathing. Now Joanna must get her the help she needed.
She glanced up the steps, but that wouldn’t help. Even if she could have gotten over the woman without hurting her, the only phone was downstairs, in the shop. Her aunt was away overnight, so she couldn’t help.
Hurrying, fighting for control, Joanna scrambled back down the steps. No use trying the downstairs door into the shop as she’d left it bolted. She burst out into the quiet yard. Even as she stepped outside, she realized it would be faster to go to Noah’s back door than around the building.
Running now, she reached the door in less than a minute and pounded on it, calling his name. “Noah!”
After a moment that felt like an hour, light spilled out. Noah Troyer filled the doorway, staring at her, his usually stoic face startled. “Joanna, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
A shudder went through her. “Not me, no. There’s a woman...” She pointed toward her door, explanations deserting her. “Komm, schnell.” Grabbing his arm, she tugged him along.
By the time they reached her door, Noah was ahead of her. “We’ll need a light.”
“Here.” She pressed the penlight into his hand, feeling her control seeping back. Knowing she wasn’t alone had a steadying effect, and Noah’s staid calm was infectious. “I was just coming in. I started up the steps and found her.” She couldn’t keep her voice from shaking a little.
The penlight’s beam picked out the woman’s figure. It wasn’t just a nightmare, then.
Noah went carefully up the steps, stopping just below the motionless figure. Joanna went behind him, keeping her gaze focused on the woman’s pant legs while she waited. Noah had to see for himself, yah, but they had to get help.
Noah bent over the woman, touching her face as Joanna had done. Then he turned back, his strong body a featureless silhouette.
“Who is she?”
The question startled her. “I don’t know. I didn’t even think about it—I just wanted to get help. We must call the police and tell them to send paramedics, too.”
“Yah.” He stepped back down to her. “One of us should stay with her, I think. Do you...?”
He didn’t need to finish. “I’ll stay with her,” she said quickly. “If she comes around, another woman would be more calming, ain’t so?”
Not wasting time, Noah was already halfway out. “I’ll be back as soon as I’ve called. Yell if...” He let that trail off, but she understood. He’d be there if she needed him.
But she’d be fine. She was a grown woman, a businesswoman, not a skittish girl. Given all it had taken her to reach this point, she had to act the part.
Joanna settled as close to the woman as she could get on the narrow stairway. After a moment’s hesitation, she put her hand gently on the woman’s wrist. The pulse beat steadily under her touch, and Joanna’s fear subsided slightly. That was a good sign, wasn’t it?
But what on earth was a stranger doing on the stairs to her apartment? The poor woman must have come to the wrong door and then fallen on the steps. She couldn’t think of another answer. If only they’d found her earlier... It was just chance that this had happened when both she and Aunt Jessie were out.
The suede of the jacket brushed her hand when she moved slightly. It was as soft as butter. Expensive. The thought teased her mind. Not just a stranger—an expensively dressed, strange Englisch woman. Where could she have been going?
She didn’t have to think twice to know the woman was a stranger. Anyone who’d lived in River Haven all their life knew everyone, at least by sight.
Her eyes had grown accustomed to the dim light, so she switched off the penlight Noah had left with her. Questions continued to dance through her mind, and she tried to focus on the soft beat of the stranger’s pulse. That was a good sign, she reminded herself. The blood was frightening, but head injuries did bleed profusely. Three accident-prone younger brothers had taught her that.
The EMTs would come and whisk her off to the hospital, no doubt for X-rays and stitches and whatever else they thought necessary. By tomorrow she’d be fine, wouldn’t she?
The darkness and the silence grew oppressive, and she shivered. If only she had a blanket... She heard the thud of Noah’s hurrying footsteps. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs.
“They’re on their way. I’d best stay by the door so I can flag them down when they come. How is she?”
“No change.” Worry broke through the careful guard she’d been keeping. “What if she’s seriously injured? What if I’m to blame? She fell on my steps, after all.”
“Ach, Joanna, that’s foolishness.” Noah’s deep voice sounded firmly from the darkness. “It can’t be your fault, and most likely she’ll be fine in a day or two. It’s not as if she fell all the way down. You don’t need to worry.”
Noah’s calm, steady voice was reassuring, and she didn’t need more light to know that his expression was as steady and calm as always.
“Doesn’t anything get under your guard?” She was irrationally annoyed that he could take the accident without apparent stress.
“Not if I can help it.” There might have been a thread of amusement in his voice. “It’s enough to worry about the poor woman’s recovery without imagining worse, ain’t so?”
“I suppose.” She straightened her back against the wall, reminding herself again that she was a grown woman, owner of her own business, able to cope with anything that came along.
But she didn’t feel all that confident right now. She felt worried. Whatever Noah might say, her instinct was telling her that this situation meant trouble. How and why she didn’t know, but trouble, nonetheless.
NOAH WAS AS concerned for Joanna as he was for the injured woman. Discovering an unconscious body on her own steps had shaken her. The cool, capable woman who took charge at every opportunity was struggling.
At least she wasn’t alone. He ought to distract her, maybe keep her talking, but that wasn’t so easy. It never had been. The son of a drunken disgrace to the Amish community didn’t have much in common with the bishop’s daughter. In fact, if Bishop Paul were here right now, he’d not be happy to find Joanna sitting alone in the dark with Noah Troyer.
“How...how do you think she got here?” The sentence started off a little shaky, but Joanna seemed settled by the sound of her own voice. “I didn’t see a car in the alley.”
He glanced toward her, able to make out the pale oval that was her face. “Gut question. There’s nothing parked out front, either. Seems like a stranger would have to come by car. She’s not someone you’ve run across in the course of business? Like a quilt collector?”
“No. I’d have remembered,” she added. “We don’t have that many Englisch customers.”
A sound from outside had him getting to his feet. “There’s the ambulance. And sounds like the police car, as well. No use fretting. They’ll figure it out.”
Stepping outside, he waved the ambulance up close to the door, nodding when he saw that Frank Elliott was one of the EMTs. “Right up the stairs, Frank. It’s going to be tight getting her out.”
The older man took one look and whistled softly, while the woman with him pulled gear from the van. “Well, we’ll manage. Might need a hand.” He glanced at Noah, who nodded.
“I’ll be here.”
Frank switched on a powerful flashlight. “Who’s that with her? Oh, Joanna. Your shop, isn’t it? Come on down, and I’ll trade places with you.”
As soon as Joanna reached the bottom, Noah led her clear of the steps. He felt her resistance.
“I need to see that she’s all right.”
“They’ll take gut care. Komm, we have to give them room to work.”
Joanna glanced up at him, her normally stubborn jaw getting a bit tighter, and he thought she’d give him an argument. Then the tension went out of her.
“Yah, you’re right. Sorry.” Her voice trembled slightly.
“You did all you could for her.” That would be poor comfort if this didn’t end happily, but it was all he could think of to say.
They heard a soft-voiced consultation between the two medics and the young patrolman who’d followed them to the doorway. Then the cop went to set up flares, while the woman pulled a stretcher from the ambulance. She nodded to Noah.
Giving Joanna’s arm a pat, he took a step toward the doorway. “I’ll have to help with the stretcher. Stay here. Please,” he added.
Joanna’s nod was reluctant, but he sensed she’d obey.
It seemed to take forever to move the injured woman onto the stretcher. Noah stood a few steps down, realizing all he could do was hold the light still for them. When they finally started down, he helped steady the stretcher for the move from the narrow steps toward the ambulance.
“How is she?” Joanna hovered just out of reach.
“That’s for the doctors to say.” Frank glanced at her face and must have read the concern there. “The pulse is strong, so that’s good.”
The patrolman—who Noah had finally identified as the younger son of Sam Donovan, the pharmacist—looked their way. “Do you know who she is?”
Joanna shook her head. “I’ve never seen her before.”
“You, sir?” His gaze turned to him.
“Afraid not.”
They slid the stretcher in place, and the light fell briefly on the woman’s face. Noah had his first good look at her. He blinked, trying to focus. He didn’t know her, that was certain sure. But something about her seemed oddly familiar.
The feeling was gone as soon as it had come, leaving him faintly unsettled, as if he’d forgotten something important.
“Can’t I go with her?” Joanna’s sense of responsibility seemed to increase by the moment.
Frank slammed the door, shaking his head. In a moment the ambulance pulled out and was gone.
“I thought you said you didn’t know her.” The patrolman pulled a notebook from his pocket, dropping his pen in the process. “Why would you want to be with her?”
Joanna stared at him with a touch of surprise. “She’s all alone. I thought she might appreciate a friendly face.”
It wasn’t unexpected for anyone who knew Joanna, but the young patrolman didn’t seem to get it. He moved on to writing down names, location of the accident, time, and then circled around to the question of who the woman was.
Noah could feel Joanna’s impatience, and he touched her arm lightly. “Neither of us knows her,” he repeated. “And we don’t know why she was on the back steps of the quilt shop.” He considered saying the woman had seemed vaguely familiar but decided that wouldn’t be helpful.
“Yeah, right.” Young Donovan looked at his notebook again, as if hoping it would tell him what to do next. “Well, guess I’d better check in with the station. We’ll be in touch.” He tapped his cap in an awkward salute.
“Komm.” Noah reached for the back door. “I’ll see you upstairs. Unless you want to go somewhere else,” he added.
“I’d rather be in my own home.”
Joanna shivered a little at her words. Penlight in hand, she preceded him up the stairs, stepping carefully over the spot where blood showed on the wooden stair. “I should...should clean that up.”
“Not until the police are done,” he said quickly.
Nodding, she fumbled for a moment with her key and then got the door open.
Not sure whether he should follow her inside, Noah stood in the doorway. He’d wait until she had the lamps lit, at least.
In a few moments the rooms were filled with the warm glow of lamplight. Joanna turned back to him with her usual air of calm competence, the woman whose voice had faltered carefully hidden.
“Denke, Noah. I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t been at home.” She brushed a loosened tendril of brown hair back under her kapp. Her eyes, brown with a little hint of gold, darkened.
“Ach, we both know you’d have managed fine,” he said lightly. “You always do.” But she had shown him her vulnerability, there in the dark stairway, and he wouldn’t forget it.
A smile tilted her firm mouth and lit the smooth oval of her face. “I try. But I’m wonderful glad to have help.” The smile fled. “That poor woman. I hope she’ll be all right.”
There seemed little use in repeating his reassurances. “We’ll know more in the morning. I’ll make sure the bottom door locks behind me when I go out.”
Joanna nodded, stepping into the pool of light by the door to see him out. It lit her face from above, much as the light had shown on the injured woman’s face, and Noah was jolted by recognition. There was the resemblance he’d sought. The stranger who’d fallen on Joanna’s stairs looked like Joanna.
Even as he thought it, his assurance was fading. How could he be sure? It was a chance thing, a trick of the light, maybe.
“Noah? Is something wrong?” Joanna was eyeing him with the same concern she’d shown for the stranger.
“No, no, nothing.” The decision was made as quickly as that. Joanna obviously hadn’t noticed any similarity, and it made no sense to give her more worries.
“Rest easy, Joanna. I’ll check in with you in the morning.”
It was probably nothing at all. But it did make him wonder.
DESPITE THINKING SHE’D never be able to sleep, Joanna fell into a deep, dreamless slumber almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. She awoke with the sun, as always, and memory came rushing back, bringing with it renewed concern and a slight feeling of guilt for having been able to forget the injured woman.
Swinging her feet to the floor, she hastened to wash and dress, pulling her hair into the knot that fit under her kapp with the ease of long practice. When would it be appropriate to call the hospital for information? They probably wouldn’t tell her much, but it would be a relief just to know her visitor was still alive.
A shudder went through her. Last night she’d managed to avoid thinking of the grim possibilities, but this was morning, and in the light of day she must face facts. She could, she knew, but first she had to find out what they were.
The thought of food caused her throat to close, so she avoided the kitchen and went down the front stairs that led into the shop.
Joanna never came into the quilt shop without a wave of gratitude for the circumstances that had allowed her and Aunt Jessie to become partners. She glanced around at the rolls of quilting fabrics standing on end in long rows according to fabric and colors. Quilted products of all kinds hung from racks and lay in layers on the display bed, and she felt the familiar pleasure, a bit muted under the circumstances. Somehow, she didn’t think she’d be able to focus on work very well today. Something thumped on the wall that separated the quilt shop from Noah’s hardware store. It sounded as if he was in early, as well. Noah didn’t live above his business, as she and Aunt Jessie did, but traveled back and forth every day from the family farm a few miles out of town. Was he wondering about the woman, also?
Noah had been a rock last night, not that she was surprised by that. The oldest of a large family, as she was, he’d taken on responsibility at an early age. Everyone in the valley knew about Noah’s father. An alcoholic, he’d been in and out of trouble with the church for years as they’d tried to help him. Some said that he’d have been put under the bann permanently if he hadn’t passed away when he did.
None of that was Noah’s fault, of course. But it probably helped to explain his gravity as well as his calm in the face of an emergency. In any event, she had cause to be grateful.
Joanna was just about to pick up the phone when someone rattled the front door. She jerked around, her heart thudding, to see her parents looking at her through the pane in the door, Daad with his hand raised to knock.
She rushed to the door. How had they found out so quickly? She knew all about the Amish grapevine, but surely even the most eager gossips wouldn’t have found out about the accident so soon.
No sooner had she unlocked the door than she was enveloped in her mother’s arms. “You’re all right?” She drew back, cupping Joanna’s face between her palms and looking searchingly into her face. “You weren’t hurt?”
“Ach, Mamm, of course not. Why would you think that? It was another person who had the accident, not me. I just found her.”
“I knew it would come to no good, letting you live here alone like this.” Daad shut the door with an emphasis that rattled the glass. “And see what happened. The police called, even.”
“I’m not living alone,” she said cautiously, reminding herself of all the talking and persuading it had taken to get Daad’s blessing on this adventure in independence. “Aunt Jessie—”
“Jessie wasn’t here last night, was she? You should have come home until she got back.” She could read the worry behind the scolding in her mother’s tone and was flooded with regret that she’d been the cause of it.
“I would have, you know that, Mamm. We talked about it.” She put her arm around her mother. “But since I was going over to Warren and wouldn’t be back until late, I’d have had to take the buggy out in the dark to come home. It seemed simpler and safer just to stay here. I couldn’t have known someone would fall on my steps yesterday, could I?”
She kept her voice soft and coaxing as she looked at her father. Daad was not easily moved by her determination to bend things the way she wanted them.
“I suppose,” he grumbled, and she tugged on his arm.
“You probably didn’t have breakfast, did you? I’ll put coffee on in the back room, and I have some rolls in the tin.”
She shepherded them back to the workroom, where they had a tiny kitchen area in a corner. While her parents sat down at the worktable, she put on the coffee, talking to distract them.
“I went to the big fabric store in Warren in the afternoon. Wait until you see the fabric swatches I brought back for dresses for Catherine’s wedding, Mamm. Such nice material, and pretty colors, too.”
That distracted her mother’s attention, as she’d known it would, and they talked about her friend Catherine’s wedding, coming up in November. Schoolteacher Catherine, like she, had stayed single for so long no one thought she’d ever marry, until Michael Forster had come back to town.
“Enough about the wedding,” Daad said once the coffee was poured. “Sit down and tell us exactly what happened last night.”
Knowing she couldn’t avoid it, she told them the exact truth. Mammi murmured sorrowfully when she talked about the woman’s injury, and an expression she couldn’t interpret crossed Daad’s face at the mention of Noah. Maybe that was unavoidable. As the bishop, Paul Kohler would have been deeply involved in dealing with Noah’s father.
“So they took her off to the hospital, and I don’t know anything else. In fact, I was just about to call the hospital and see if I could learn anything,” she concluded.
“Ach, yah, that’s what you should do,” her mother said. “Go ahead, call.”
Joanna glanced cautiously at her father, but he nodded, so she picked up the phone. The only one they had, it was normally kept only for work purposes. After a few minutes’ delay, caused by the fact that she didn’t know who to ask for, she was connected to the nurse on the floor where the woman had been placed.
“I’m calling to inquire about the woman who was brought in last night with a head injury.”
“Are you family?” a brisk voice asked.
“No,” she admitted.
“I’m afraid...”
Joanna broke in. “Is this Mary Ellen Dover? It’s Joanna Kohler, Mary Ellen.” She pressed the speaker button so she wouldn’t have to repeat everything.
“Oh, Joanna.” The voice warmed a number of degrees. “I heard she’d fallen at your store.” There was a brief pause. “I’m not supposed to release any information,” she said. “But I guess it doesn’t matter if you know. She’s stable, breathing on her own, but she still hasn’t regained consciousness. They’re going to run some more tests today.”
“It’s serious, then.” Joanna hadn’t realized how much she’d counted on hearing the woman was awake and improving.
“Well, she’s not in immediate danger,” Mary Ellen said. “But we’ve got to find out what causing the problem.” Her voice faded on the final word. “Listen, I can’t talk now,” she said in a hurried whisper and hung up.
“Poor, poor thing,” her mother murmured.
“Yah. We must pray,” Daad said. He clasped Joanna’s hand. “This is not your fault, daughter. You mustn’t blame yourself.”
“Denke, Daadi.” She nodded, hoping she could manage that.
It took her another twenty minutes and a cup of coffee to convince her mother to return home with Daad, but finally they were out the door, their fears allayed for the moment, at least.
No sooner had they gone than Noah came in, the bell on the door jingling. “Noah. You’ve just missed my mamm and daad.”
“Yah, I saw.” He walked along the table filled with bolts of fabrics until he reached her. “Have you heard anything?” His dark brows were a straight line across his face, and his mouth looked grim.
She thought, inappropriately, that it would be nice to see him smile.
“I called. Fortunately, I got Mary Ellen Dover, so she was willing to talk. She says the patient is stable, whatever that means, and breathing on her own. But she still hasn’t regained consciousness, so we still don’t know who she is or why she was at my store.”
“Not your store,” he corrected. “Your home.”
Joanna nodded, thinking that Noah wasn’t one to put a sugar coating on anything. “Why? That’s what I don’t understand.”
Noah’s frown had deepened. “Do you happen to have any Englisch relatives? Someone who might be looking for family members or some such thing?”
“No.” She was surprised and a little indignant. “Why would you ask that?”
He studied her face for a long moment, his dark green eyes solemn. “I don’t know if I should say this or not. And maybe I’m wrong.” He seemed to be talking almost to himself. Then he shook his head. “Joanna, did it occur to you that this woman looks something like you?”
Joanna could only stare at him. “No! Why would you think that?”
“I don’t want to upset you. But there was something vaguely familiar about her face when I saw her being put into the ambulance. And later, when I saw your face under the light, I knew what it was. She reminded me of you.”
Shaken, Joanna turned away from him, not wanting those keen eyes on her face. “I...I didn’t see it.” She rubbed her forehead, hoping that might help her think more clearly. “I don’t know what to say.” She straightened, realizing the obvious answer. “I suppose I’d better try to see her for myself.”
“Yah, I guess so.” He sounded sorry he’d brought it up.
She swung back to him. “We’d best keep quiet about it until we know. But if it turns out we’re related in some way... Well, I don’t know if that helps the police or not.”
“You could tell them,” he said. “But you’ll have to decide quickly because I see Chief Jamison coming toward the shop right now.”