Where Shadows Meet by Colleen Coble (30)

Equipment choked the room at the IU Med Center. Hannah sat close to the bed and watched the monitors. Not that she understood them, but if sheer force of will could keep Matt’s vitals good, she would stare at the things until she went blind.

Angie peeked in the door, and Hannah went to meet her. “Any change?” Angie asked.

“No, he’s still unconscious.”

“Any new update from the doctors?”

“They still say it will be a miracle if he pulls through.” Hannah clutched her hands together. “How’s Caitlin?”

“Gina has her. She’s asking for her daddy.”

“I don’t think she should see him like this. Hannah glanced back at the battered man in the bed. He hardly looked like the Matt she knew and loved.

“But what if he dies, Hannah? Wouldn’t you want a chance to say goodbye if it were your daddy?”

The question hit Hannah hard. She did wish she could have kissed her parents one last time, could have smelled her mother’s hair to imprint it on her memory. She didn’t have the right to keep Caitlin from her father. She resituated her grip on her hope. “I won’t let him die.”

Angie put her hand on Hannah’s cheek. “He’s been shot in the stomach, girl. He’s got liver damage, intestinal damage. You’ve got to face facts.”

“I’m facing facts. I know he’s not going to die. Listen, I’ve got to get back to him.”

“What about Caitlin?”

Somehow the thought of letting Caitlin see her daddy like this made Hannah grit her teeth. She would not give up. “Not yet,” she said. “Maybe when he wakes up.”

Angie squeezed Hannah’s arm. “I’ll bring you a sandwich this evening. You want anything now?”

“No, I’m not hungry.” The thought of food made her shudder. She just wanted Matt to open his eyes and look at her with that gaze that told her he could swallow her whole. The expression that said he saw her. Just as she was, warts and all. And loved what he saw.

She’d just returned to the bed to take his hand when she heard another tap at the doorjamb. This time the doorway crowded with Amish friends and family: Luca, Sarah, the bishop, cousins, friends. At least twenty people stood outside in the hallway.

Hannah stepped to the door to greet them. “What’s going on?”

“We’ve come to pray for Matt,” Luca said. “He’s a good man, Hannah.”

She could hardly speak past the boulder in her throat. “Yes. Yes, he is,” she managed. When she stepped to the side, the group filed into the room and surrounded the bed. When she joined them, they made room for her at Matt’s side. She held his hand while her friends gathered round and stood in silent prayer.

They had to have hired several drivers to bring them here. Even by car, Indianapolis was an hour away. She closed her eyes and prayed too, asking for forgiveness for all the bitterness she’d carried, for her unforgiving spirit. And she especially prayed for Matt. When she opened her eyes, only she and Matt remained in the room. The Amish had left as quietly as they’d come.

She squeezed his hand. “Open your eyes, Matt.” His lashes didn’t move. The machines continued to hum and beep around her. She laid her head on the bed beside his hand. She was going to lose him, and she deserved that kind of loss. But Caitlin deserved more. What could she offer God in exchange for Matt’s life? She would give her own happiness for his. Didn’t God always demand a sacrifice? What better sacrifice than giving up her daughter?

Raising her head, she stared at Matt’s face. No change. Stepping into the hall, she pulled out her cell phone and called Angie, who tried to argue with her, then finally agreed to do what she wanted.

“HANNAH, DON’T GO through with it.” Angie paced the hall outside the hospital room.

“I have to.” Hannah scribbled her name on the paper and handed it to Gina, who stood watching them.

“He wouldn’t want you to do this,” Gina said. She put the paper in her purse. “I don’t understand.”

Gina looked drawn and exhausted. In addition to Matt’s tenuous grip on life, her husband and Vanessa had been arrested for theft. The woman’s pregnancy was a lie as well.

Hannah squeezed Gina’s hand. “He loves his daughter. She’s his more than mine. I—I’d like to say good-bye, though.”

“She’s in the waiting room with Irene.”

“I want to explain it to Matt. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” Hannah left them and went back to the room, where he still lay unresponsive. After three days, the doctors held out little hope. His skin had begun to take on a yellowish cast. She couldn’t delay much longer.

She took his hand and brought it to her lips. “I love you, Matt. You’ve taught me so much about honor and unconditional love. I’ve signed Caitlin over to you. She’s yours free and clear.” Her voice broke, and she leaned closer to take one last whiff of his male scent, to brush her lips across his. “I’ve made a deal with God. We Amish believe in putting other people first. Sometimes I’ve forgotten that. But this time, I’m going to do it right. I’m putting you and Caitlin first. I believe if I make this sacrifice, he’ll let you live. I’m going to leave here, and you’ll never find me. Don’t try, my love. Something terrible might happen if you make me break my promise to God. I know you’ll give our daughter a good life. A happy life.”

Her vision blurred, and she found it hard to keep going when all she wanted to do was bury her face in his neck and never leave. She wet her lips. “Good-bye, Matt. You deserve the best of what life has to offer. Be happy. I’ll always love you.” She pressed another kiss against his skin and turned to go before she could change her mind.

She thought she heard something, so she stopped and looked back, but he looked just the same. Pale, motionless. Dying unless she did something. Squaring her shoulders, she went out of the room and down the hall to the waiting room, where she stood for a moment and watched her daughter color. Caitlin sat at a child-sized red table and chair set.

Was there ever such a beautiful child? Hannah thought not. So sweet and unassuming too. Matt had done a wonderful job with her. She tore her gaze from her daughter and went to sit beside Irene and Gina. “I’ll call in a couple of days and see how he is, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course,” Gina said.

Hannah glanced at Irene. “Did you know about your mother?”

Irene sighed and rubbed her head. “I suspected. Her bitterness grew after I had Reece and ended up in a sanitarium for two years. Then when David killed himself, she fell apart. It got harder and harder to be around her. I’d go over there and all she’d talk about was how terrible all the Amish were and how the Schwartzes would get what they deserved someday. When their barn burned back in the late seventies, I suspected she had something to do with it. Then ten years ago when she heard Patricia was pregnant again, all her anger came spewing out. We had an argument, and we never spoke again.” She looked up. “Bitterness is a terrible thing. It eats a person alive.” She chewed on her lip. “The darkness comes sometimes and even I can’t fight it.” She plucked something off her blouse.

“It was nice getting to know you, Irene.” She hugged the older woman, then held out her hand to Gina. “Thank you for taking care of my little girl. I’ll call and check on her from time to time, if you don’t mind. Maybe you could e-mail me a picture once in a while.”

“I’ll do that.” Gina embraced her. “I wish we’d had time to get to know one another better.”

“Me too.” Blinking back the tears, Hannah put a smile on her face and stepped closer to her little girl. “Hey, Caitlin. Is that picture for Daddy?”

The little girl nodded without looking up. “He loves princesses. I’m his number one princess.”

“Of course you are. You’re the most important thing in his life.” Hannah touched her daughter’s unruly hair, then knelt. “I have to go away. Do you think I could have a hug?” Caitlin put down the crayon and came willingly into Hannah’s arms. “Are you coming back?”

“No, honey, I’m not. I have to leave you here with your aunt Gina. She’ll take good care of you until your daddy is well. And he’ll be well very soon.”

“I thought you were my new mommy. Your hair is fairy hair like mine.” Caitlin’s small fingers caressed Hannah’s thick locks. Over Caitlin’s shoulders, Hannah could see Gina, Irene, and Angie weeping. It took every ounce of strength Hannah possessed to give her daughter one last fierce hug, then turn her loose. “I love you just as much as any mommy could love a little girl. I’ll pray for you every day. You take care of your daddy, okay?”

Caitlin nodded. “I always take care of him. We bake cookies. Chocolate chip are his favorite.” She went to her backpack and rummaged through it. Lifting out her doll, she carried the battered toy back to where Hannah stood. “Will you take Jenny? I’ll be busy taking care of Daddy, and she’ll need a new mommy.”

Tears flooded Hannah’s eyes. “I’d be honored to take care of her for you. Are you sure, sweetheart?”

Caitlin nodded. “Don’t let her forget me.”

“I won’t.” Hannah couldn’t take much more. “You’d better finish your picture. Daddy will be awake soon and you’ll want to give it to him.”

“Okay.” Caitlin sat back down at the little table and bent her head.

Breathe. In and out. Hannah hugged Irene and Gina, then followed Angie out to the car.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Angie said, her tone fierce.

But Hannah knew better. “Let’s get out of here,” she said. “I need to go home and pack my stuff. Get my cats.”

“But where are you going?”

“I’m not sure.” Just away from the pain.

“You’ll keep in touch with me, won’t you? I’ll be working on publicity for the new book. The editor is really happy with it.”

“You have to promise not to give in to Matt’s questions when he comes looking for me.” Hannah knew Matt. He’d look for her and keep looking even though the letter she’d left explained everything and told him not to. Even though she’d warned him.

“I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

Though Angie sounded sulky, Hannah believed her. “Let’s go.”

They collected her cats and her belongings and headed to Milwaukee. Hannah had a plan, nebulous though it was. At least the challenge would give her something to think about instead of all she’d left behind. It would take hard work, but that’s what she needed now—something that left her too exhausted at night to remember a set of blue eyes that told her she was special.