Anathema by Colleen Coble Page B

and never looked back. So why then did he think she ’d come running just because he was looking?
    His sister sighed. “You can’t find someone who doesn’t want to be found.” She clicked through a few of the links and read the posts. “Look at all these, Matt. Hundreds. And one in a thousand finds a clue. Why bother?”
    “I’d just like some closure. That’s my job.” He attempted a laugh, but it came out flat. “I’d like to ask her why she left us. Why she never called or wrote. I’ve got a daughter myself now, and I’d never do that to Caitlin.”
    Gina leaned back in the chair and shoved away from the computer. “Everyone isn’t like you. Some mothers get tired of kids nagging them all day long. It happens every day. I pray to God every day that I never turn out like her.”
    Matt turned his head and looked at her but didn’t say anything. It puzzled him that she didn’t seem to care. Weren’t girls supposed to be close to their mothers?
    She pushed her hair out of her face. “Don’t look at me like I’m some kind of heartless witch. She left us, Matt, remember? Pretending not to care is the only way I can get through knowing we meant so little to her.”
    “Do you remember her?” He could still smell her perfume sometimes in the night. Hear her voice. It wasn’t natural that he couldn’t get over the abandonment. He wanted to forget, but the memories dogged him.
    “Not much. Aunt Irene was a good mom to me, in spite of her mental state at times. She loved me and made sure I didn’t lack anything. You’d be happier if she’d kept you too.” Her gaze gentled. “I know it must have been hard staying with Trudy.”
    His aunt hadn’t wanted a rowdy boy. Neither had Trudy, for that matter. And neither had his mother.

nine
    “The Irish Chain Quilt is a popular pattern in which the
colorful blocks are all connected. In the same way, the Amish
community is a long chain of fellowship and love.”
    HANNAH SCHWARTZ,
    IN The Amish Faith Through Their Quilts
    T he murmur of voices in the other room settled, and Hannah heard the soft clink of spoon against cup. Maybe the bishop would go to the front door and not enter through the kitchen. He didn’t have to know she was here. While she ’d always liked the man, she knew he would gently urge her to reconcile with God and come back to her Amish faith.
    She saw the wide brim of his hat pass the kitchen window and head to the front door. Her hands shook as she took a sip of her sweet tea. The confrontation would come sooner or later, but she ’d put it off as long as possible. She set her tea on the table as Asia came back from listening at the doorway.
    “They’re calmer now,” she said. “Some guy showed up.”
    “The bishop,” Hannah murmured. Her hands itched to work on her quilt. The activity always soothed her.
    “He’s the head of the church?”
    “This division, yes. Does my aunt know I’m here?”
    Asia shook her head. “Sarah didn’t say a peep about it. I think she ’s waiting for a better time to mention it.”
    “Did anyone see you?”
    “No.”
    Asia glanced at the children. “Is the tea good?” They looked up at her with blank faces and went back to sipping their tea.
    “They only know German until they go to school,” Hannah said. The cell phone inside Hannah’s purse rang. She grabbed it before it could disturb anyone in the other room. The number flashed across the front, but she didn’t recognize it. “Hello,” she said.
    Reece ’s gravelly voice sounded in her ear. “Hang on,” he said. “You can hear our little girl’s voice.”
    Seconds later, a child’s voice called out, “You can’t catch me!” Hannah’s heart leaped at the childish voice. She gasped and pressed the phone tighter to her ear. The child laughed and chattered to someone, and the voice imprinted itself on her soul. Was this her child? Or a horrible joke?
    Reece’s voice came back on the line. “Doesn’t she sound sweet,