Annie's Truth (Touch of Grace) (33 page)

Annie looked over at the next bed, where Hanna lay. A tear slipped down Annie’s cheek at the sound of the voice in her head—John’s. Now he was in the room walking over and embracing her.

His eyes met Annie’s as he pulled away. “Where are you hurt?” He began to look for injuries and then saw the cast on her right hand. “Is this it?”

“That and a bump on my head. Otherwise, I’m fine.” Tears flooded her eyes. Since she’d come home, she could show weakness with him, and only with him.

He reached for her hand. “You finally break now. Not when you were running into dead ends finding your mother or taking grief from me and the others.”

“Well,” she sniffed, “this hurt.” She grinned, trying to make light of the horrible experience.

He smiled. “I really do wish you wouldn’t have gone into town without me.”

She took in a tattered breath, remembering how glad she had been when she arrived home from Harrisonburg, thinking she wouldn’t have to worry about cars anymore.

“I have a lot of questions.” John turned as the nurse came in to see about discharging Annie and to check Hanna’s condition. “But I’ll wait.”

Mamm and Amos talked with the nurse concerning Hanna. She had lost some blood due to a puncture wound to her side but was stable. A couple of nights for observation, and she should be ready to leave the following day.

Then the nurse came over and checked Annie’s vitals. “You’re ready to be discharged, Miss Beiler.”

“I’ll take you home.” John took her hand with such care she felt instant comfort. As she set both feet on the floor, he watched her intently.

“You okay?”

After a brief dizzy spell Annie answered, “I’m fine.” But she wasn’t. With everything that had happened in just the last month’s time, and now this, Annie was losing her will. The oncepositive attitude and trust in Gott was waning.

Let something good happen, Lord.

“I’m staying here with Hanna. I’ll see you both tomorrow.” Mamm’s soft voice reminded Annie of her mamm’s gentle touch when any of them were ill. When she had awoken in the hospital, it had been her mamm she saw first by her bedside, comforting her as if all were forgotten.

“I’ll see you at home, Hanna.” Annie forced her best smile, and Hanna did the same. She almost felt Hanna’s apology.

She went into the bathroom to dress, then let John help her to the wheelchair and out of the hospital, all the while feeling something was different. It was probably just pity, or maybe guilt, but his demeanor had changed. She tried not to be affected by it. Annie had decided not let herself be concerned with what anyone here thought of her anymore. With John’s gentleness, she almost felt as though she could follow through with that pledge.

They made their way to the front of the hospital, and John waved at Abraham, who pulled up in his buggy. Annie’s eyes watered again at the sight of him. Only around Amish land would a buggy be a common mode of transportation at a hospital. “Danke for leaving the store to take us home.”

“Ah, now, don’t get all mushy on me, Annie.” He helped her in, and John moved in beside her. “How’s Hanna?”

“She’s okay.” John put his arm behind Annie. “We’ll all be okay.”

She knew he was trying to keep her spirits up, but it wouldn’t work for her tonight. Nothing would.

John let out a long breath. “I’ve been so angry with Hanna. I felt terrible when this happened to her.”

Annie felt the same way. Hanna’s bad choices had made the entire family suffer; this was just one more. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Fine. May I ask another question?” Abraham held tight on the reins.

“Jah, I suppose so.” Annie had been ready for silence but knew Abraham to be a sensitive man and couldn’t say no to those big, blue eyes.

“Have you made any contact with the woman you met in Harrisonburg?” Abraham glanced her way.

“Nee, not since I’ve returned.” It stung Annie to say the words. She thought about her birth mother all the time and wondered whether Monica Taylor ever thought of her.

It was silent too long before Abraham spoke again. “Why?”

Annie was considering her response when John interjected, “Out of respect.”

Abraham nodded. “I see.” His face fell as if he felt disappointed for Annie, and Annie suddenly felt very sorry for herself, unable to finish the search for a relationship.

Abraham dropped them off and went back into town. They would need him to bring the others home in the morning.

Annie took a deep breath and said a silent prayer. She worried for her sister. The concern she felt for Hanna was intense, bittered by guilt and anger.

As she walked into the house, she told herself to let the anger go, to forget these feelings of Hanna being responsible for any injuries she had, inside or out.

 
Chapter Thirty-Six
 

T
HE COUNTY POLICE
showed up at the Beilers’ late the next morning. The tall blond standing next to his musclebound counterpart seemed to enjoy the call.

“Coffee, gentlemen?” Mamm already had the pot in her hand ready to serve.

“Thank you, ma’am.” The short one sat at the table with Amos. “You Amish always make the best coffee.”

Annie decided that was a compliment and sat down with them. The
clomp, clomp
of John’s stride was heard coming up the back stairs. Annie’s heart jolted, but not as it had when she’d first came back, worrying and wondering what his response would be. Now she knew.

His eyes met Annie’s first and then wandered around the room. “Hallo, I’m John Yoder.” He shook both of the officers’ hands and sat next to Annie.

The tall policeman brought out a pad and pen, while the short one asked the questions. “As you know, Mr. Beiler, we spoke to your daughter Hanna and your wife at the hospital last night after you left. We’d like to ask you and Annie a few more questions.”

“Do you know who did this?” Amos’s voice was calm but firm.

“From what we can conclude from talking with your daughter, the vehicle was a pickup truck.” He turned to Annie. “Do you have any more to add?”

Annie nodded. “It was red with a black stripe down the side. It looked like an older model. Did she tell you what he looked like?”

“No, she said she didn’t see him.”

“He was a young man with a blue shirt on.”

“Is there anything else you can remember?”

Annie studied the table. The whole scene played out again in her mind. “He didn’t stop.”

“Yes, we’ve concluded that. It’s being considered a hit-and-run.”

“A red truck should stand out a bit.” John offered.

“You’d be surprised how many red pickup trucks there are out there. The black stripe helps a little.” He looked back to Annie. “We’re on this, Ms. Beiler. We want you to know that.”

“Do you have any idea if you’ll find him?” Amos spoke.

The tall cop chimed in. “We’ll do everything we can. And please keep us updated on your daughter.”

The short officer stood to go. “We’ll be checking in. Feel free to call.” He handed Amos a card and talked more about a few particulars Amos was concerned about. Just Amos talking that much showed Annie how concerned he was.

John and Annie went out to the milk barn. The Guernseys had waited long enough, and the milking had to be done. “I don’t know why Amos doesn’t buy Holsteins. You get more milk out of them.”

“Jah, but the Guernseys’ cream is richer.” Annie walked past the stalls. The name of each heifer was written on a blackboard above her stall. The blackboards had been adopted because every once in a while they had to move one when she decided she didn’t like her neighbor. For the most part the cows knew which stall to go to without much direction.

While waiting for the milking, Annie began to churn. It was a daunting task that went on for hours. “I’ll see you later?” Annie asked John as he rushed out of the barn.

He began to walk backward toward his house. “I’ll be back for some of that butter to put on my sandwich for lunch.” He pointed at the churn and then turned around. She watched him until he was out of sight.

Three breaks, breakfast, and a few hours later John was back, ready for his lunch with fresh butter on Mamm’s homemade bread. He peered into the churn and turned up his nose. “Why does it do that?”

Annie chuckled. “It always turns to liquid right before it’s done. The curdling turns to water.”

“And white in the winter.”

Annie nodded. “You like yellow better?”

“Definitely.” John sat in a chair across from her.

“It tastes the same.”

John leaned into her. “Sometimes I feel like going into town and getting me some yellow butter that I can eat in five minutes, not five hours.”

“John!” She smiled. “You wouldn’t appreciate it nearly as much as you will this.”

“You’re right about that.” He leaned back in the chair. “Sort of the cycle of things, I suppose.”

“How’s that?” Annie felt the curds set and knew she was finally done. Warmth and satisfaction filled her.

“Things usually seem the hardest when you’ve
almost
achieved the goal.”

“Like running a race,” Annie added.

“Jah, like Paul talks about. To run a good race to reach the prize.” John placed his elbows on his knees. “Have we forgiven each other for everything that’s happened?”

“I don’t know. Have we?” Within a matter of minutes of her coming home he had taken her over rolling hills of emotions. She let out a breath in hope they could reconcile.

His brown hair slipped down over his forehead. “I felt like we were there, ready to make a life together. Then after you left, I wondered if it was only me who was ready, that you never were.”

Annie laced her fingers through his hair, pushing it back to see his serious eyes. “I assumed too much, that everything would go as it should without action from me. Everything had always gone the right way.” She sifted through his brown wisps, thinking how much she had taken him for granted. “Then I came home and found no one the same, most importantly you. I always thought we’d be together. That’s why it was so hard for me to see you with Hanna.”

John lowered his head.

“It surprised me more than anything.” She caressed his cheek with the back of her hand, loving the feel of him again.

John scoffed. “Me too.”

Frieda came rushing out and stopped in front of Annie. “Mamm says we’re going to the hospital.”

“Why?” Annie was surprised to hear that they would all go.

“We’re going to make quilts.”

“A quilting bee at the hospital?”

John grinned. “Leave it to your mamm to organize something like that.”

“Guess the butter will have to wait.” Annie stood and took off her apron. “Help me with my patches?”

“Ach, there’s nothing I’d like better.”

She linked his arm in hers. “But you’ll get to be with me.”

He touched the tip of her nose. “Then that’s enough.”

 
Chapter Thirty-Seven