Sisters of the Quilt Trilogy Read Online Free PDF Page B

laundry in this room every winter since she was three, but the wooden shelves, pegs, and basket for dirty clothes appeared foreign.
    Hannah slid into her nightgown and wrapped a shawl over her shoulders. Paul must be at his parents’ place by now. Maybe Daed would let her go to Mrs. Waddell’s and call him, just this once. She wouldn’t tell Paul what had happened, but she was desperate to hear his voice. He’d tell her of his love and the wonderful future they would have together.
    But if she asked permission to call him, her father would know of their friendship. If he learned of the relationship this way, it would be much harder for Paul to earn Daed’s approval later on. And then the monster—that awful, nasty man—would have ruined everything.
    An odd, prickly sensation ran through her chest, making breathing difficult. She removed the wooden peg lock and opened the door. Her mother stood just outside, in the small back entryway where boots and coats lined the walls. A shadowy glow from the lamp fell across Mamm’s stricken face. Resisting the urge to fall into her mother’s arms and cry, Hannah remained at a distance.
    Her father entered from the kitchen, carrying a small jar of salve. His medium-sized frame appeared large when encircled by the shadows from the lamplight. “Your younger siblings are asleep. You will get some peace and quiet tonight.” He smiled, obviously trying to sound like his normal self. “See, all is well,” he assured her, though his confidence seemed forced. But there was something different in her father’s voice, something suggesting an edgy coldness he’d never had before.
    She handed her father the lamp and followed her mother into the kitchen. Stiff and shaky as a new colt, Hannah made her way to one of the benches that sat on each side of the kitchen table. The familiar rich wood brought no warmth to her tonight. Too weak and dizzy to talk, she sat in silence, hoping with every blink of her eyes that she would awaken from this horrible nightmare.
    Her father set the lamp on a nearby shelf and paused in the doorway. “I’ve been thinking. It is best that you not speak of this to anyone, including your brothers and sisters. They only need to know that you fell on your way home and your mother thought you were more injured than you are.” He paused. “Everything I just said is true, no?”
    She didn’t want anyone to know what had really happened, including herself. She silently begged God to let her die. She couldn’t handle this. Incapable of responding, Hannah lowered her eyes.
    Mamm shuffled to the gas stove and removed the lid of a simmering pot. “I prepared some broth and rice while you were in the bath. It’ll make you feel better.” Her mother’s jerky movements and quivering voice made Hannah think Mamm might start screaming again.
    Hannah glanced at her father, wordlessly asking permission to turn down the offer. The muscles in his face appeared taut as he stepped closer to her. Lifting the edge of the shawl that had fallen off her shoulder, he nuzzled it against her neck. The movement was comforting, causing Hannah to think she might survive the night yet. Then he leaned close and whispered, “Do as your mother says.”
    The shaking that had subsided returned with a vengeance.
    Her father knelt in front of her. “She needs to know you’ll be fine,” he whispered before turning her hands over and gently rubbing some salve on her wounds.
    Closing her eyes tight against the onslaught of nausea, Hannah realized her father’s desire to prove to Mamm that Hannah was fine outweighed everything else.
    She gulped. The hard, dry swallow was followed by an intense desire to flee the house and seek refuge at Mrs. Waddell’s. Fear grew until it seemed to form its own silhouette. The thought of going to Mrs. Waddell’s was ridiculous. Hannah couldn’t go anywhere. He might be out there waiting for her.

    Hannah hung the shawl on a wooden peg and silently padded