Free Ties That Bind by Cindy Woodsmall

it.”
    “Nash is a common last name, and the given name Brandi is bound to be even more so for the Englisch, right? Like John Smith or Jimmy Jones.”
    “I wouldn’t know.” He shrugged. “Is it important?”
    She wadded up the flier until it disappeared inside her fist. “No.”
    But as Abram remained in place, watching her walk around the side of the house, he saw her open the flier and study it before she vanished around the far corner.

W ith everyone at work and Monday’s laundry on the line, Lovina tiptoed up the attic steps. Salome was resting, and her little ones were at Malinda’s. Berta had come home late yesterday, so Ariana would stay with her until bedtime.
    Finally Lovina had some time to herself, and tears welled. One of her children wished to leave? If that wasn’t enough to break a mother’s heart, and it was, fears she’d tucked away long ago seemed to be shrieking ruthlessly as they came out of hiding. Steadying her frantic emotions, she closed her eyes and tried to soak in peaceful thoughts.
    The attic smelled of old wood and generations of memories. She made her way to the back of the attic, and sweat poured down her neck as she dragged useless items out of her way—broken rockers and quilt stands, butter churns, and old toys. She crawled around dusty boxes of hand-me-down clothes and knelt in front of the locked chest. Her heart pounded in her ears as she pulled the skeleton key from her apron pocket. Her moist hands shook, and she couldn’t make herself slide the key into the keyhole.
    Life was so busy, and until two days ago she had successfully quieted the fears that tried to whisper to her. Feeding and clothing ten children was difficult. Ignoring irrational fears was easy…or had been until Mark brought home that flier. Now her anxiety was becoming unbearable, searing her conscience like a fire engulfing an old birthing center.
    Her knees began to ache, and she finally unlocked the chest. She removed tattered quilts that had been sewn by her great-grandmother and grandmother. Tucked under them were the baby blankets the midwife had wrapped every one of Lovina’s newborns in. She pulled out the stack and removed the thick plastic protective covering from each one. Ten blankets. Five blue. Five pink. Lovina had pinned a tag of information on each one—name of child, birth date, weight, and memories of the day or night surrounding the birth. She supposed it was as close to a photo album as she could get.
    She opened the folded blue blanket that Abram had been wrapped in. The white embroidered baby feet had yellowed slightly. She ran her fingers across them before opening Ariana’s blanket. She inspected it just as she’d done several times over the years. But today was the same as every other time. No matter how diligently she searched for the embroidered baby feet, she couldn’t find them. Somehow Rachel had mixed up the blankets. It was no wonder. What a day of terror that had been.
    Lovina pulled the downy fabric to her chest. “Dear God,” she whispered, “please let it be that the blankets were mixed up that day.” A sob escaped her. “Please.”

    Ariana jolted from a sound sleep, her eyes opening wide as she gulped in a lungful of air. Rudy! He was picking her up, and they had a meeting with the real-estate agent tonight. What time was it? Sunlight and shadows spilled across her bare feet and arms as a waning sun filtered through the dancing leaves of the old oak outside her window. A humid breeze flowed through the open windows, but sweltering heat hung in the air.
    There was a tap at the door. “Ariana?” Salome called softly. Was it her sister’s voice that had jolted her awake moments ago?
    “Kumm.” Ariana sat up, brushing damp strands of hair from her face.
    Her sister opened the door and slipped inside. She had her newborn in her arms and a gentle smile on her face. “I was surprised to hear that you’re going out on a Tuesday night.”
    “I am.” She