Letters to Katie (22 page)

His jaw dropped open. “
Nix
, that’s not it at all. I came to thank you. You know, for the other day. And to apologize
for rushing you out of there. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.” He looked at her intently.
“I’m sorry for all the times I’ve hurt you.”

A dizzy sensation overcame her as she looked at him, digesting his words. She gripped
the edge of the sofa. He was so close she could see the black stubble of his beard,
which he’d shave off in the morning as
a sign of not being married. His long, dark lashes brushed against the top of his
cheeks. Her own blond lashes were practically invisible.

She shook her head, trying to focus. He had just apologized, something she’d hoped
to hear for years. Why was she thinking about eyelashes at a time like this?

Johnny put his hat on the table. “I acted like a jerk. I’ve been acting like a jerk.”

She squinted at him. Vaguely, in the back of her mind, she realized that this was
something new. She ought to be impressed. Ought to respond.

He kept talking. “The Wagners really liked supper. They thought the house was cozy.
Or quaint, I can’t remember the exact word. But that was all due to you.” He looked
down at her again, and she felt her cheeks grow hot. “I noticed the curtains.”

“You did?”

“They’re very nice. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know. But the living room needed something.”

“A
maedel’s
touch.” He glanced at her hands, which were settled in her lap.

Now her stomach was twisting like a tire swing in the wind. A wave of nausea crashed
over her, just as another throb of pain radiated down her neck.

He was still rattling on. “So, anyway, I came to thank you for those—the curtains,
I mean—and everything else you did.” He stared at her straight on with his deep, dark
brown eyes, longer than he’d ever looked at her before. “I appreciate it. I just wanted
you to know that.”

The sudden softness in his voice barely registered. Even though the living room was
warm, she hugged her arms, her body shuddering with a sudden chill. The stiffness
in her neck increased, as if she’d just woken up from sleeping at an odd angle. She
rubbed at it, trying to ease the pain.

“Katie?”

She looked up at him. He seemed a long way away. “What did you just call me?”

He cleared his throat. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Another wave of nausea came over her. She stood up, ready to run to the bathroom.
“I—I don’t know.” Then the dizziness hit full force. She reached out, grabbing his
forearm with her hand.

Instead of removing her hand, he covered it with his own. “I should get your
mamm
.”

“Nee!”
Her mother would just throw him out. There was something Katherine needed to know
first. Her mind, hazy, guided by pain and a sudden need for the truth, forced her
to speak the words that had been on her heart for years.

“Johnny, why are you really here?”

“I told you, to say thank you—”

“You already thanked me.”

“I had to bring you your bag.”

She closed her eyes and rubbed the back of her neck. “You could have waited until
Sunday.” Her gaze narrowed as she looked up at him. “Why do you treat me like this?
The other day you couldn’t wait to get rid of me, and today you’re at
mei haus
.”

He gripped her hand but averted his gaze. Guilt flashed in
his eyes before he looked away. “I know. Just let me explain. I came to tell you
something else—”

Katherine pulled out of his grasp and gripped her head in her hands. The pain was
almost unbearable. “You know how I feel about you.” She tried to turn her neck to
look up at him, but she could barely move. “You’ve always known. And you’ve never
done anything about it.”

“Katie, I—”

“Why can’t you be honest with me?”

“I’ve never lied to you.”

“Don’t play dumb, Johnny. You’re lying right now.”

Suddenly the room heaved and shifted, as if she were on an out-of-control merry-go-round.
She bent at the waist, trying to steady herself, and breathed in deeply. She should
sit down. Call for her
mamm
. Or do both. But she couldn’t let this go. Not until she finally got a straight answer
from Johnny.

“We’re too old to be playing games.”

Johnny put his arm around her shoulders. “I’m not playing games. Not anymore. I care
about you. A lot. I should have told you a long time ago.”

But she didn’t respond. Instead, she looked at the floor, then closed her eyes.

“Katherine, I think there’s something seriously wrong. This isn’t like you.”

“I’m tired of being like me. Tired of getting my feelings hurt, tired of people feeling
sorry for me.” She gripped her temples. Was somebody pounding nails through them?
“I’m tired . . . so tired.”

“Katie?”

He sounded far away. And why did he keep calling her Katie? Black dots swam before
her eyes. Her ears pounded and her head roared.

Then the blackness closed in like a suffocating blanket, and there was nothing more.

Fear clawed at Johnny as he held an unconscious Katherine in his arms. Her skin, normally
fair, was now stark white, her lips colorless. He rubbed her cheek with the palm of
his hand, as if the gesture would wake her up. She didn’t respond.

“Katie? Katie!” Johnny picked her up and laid her on the couch. He knelt beside her,
holding her hand.

“Katherine?” Her mother dashed into the room. She glared at Johnny. “What are you
doing here?”

“I just wanted to talk to her—”

“What did you do?” She edged her way between him and Katie, forcing him to drop her
hand. “Why did you upset her?”

“I didn’t!” But she had been upset, right before she passed out. She’d also been acting
very weird. Her beautiful face, normally so bright and placid, had been contorted
with pain. “She was complaining about her head hurting.”

“And you didn’t come get me? Bekah!”

Katherine’s sister appeared behind them, her frightened expression mirroring her mother’s.

“
Geh
to the call box and dial 911.” Her mother didn’t turn around. She gripped Katie’s
hand. “Katherine? Can you hear me?”

Johnny yanked his cell phone out of his pocket. “I’ll call the ambulance.” He quickly
dialed emergency services. When he hung up, Katherine was still unconscious. Helpless,
he asked, “Is there anything else I can do?”

“You can leave.”
Frau
Yoder’s tone sliced through him.

Johnny looked at Bekah, who nodded. Without a word he stood, picked up his hat, and
went outside. He’d leave the house, but not the property, not until the paramedics
arrived. He paced the front porch a couple of times. Then the front door opened and
Bekah stepped outside.

“Is she awake?” he asked, fisting his hands.

Bekah nodded. “She’s coming to. But, Johnny, you have to leave.
Mamm
is really upset right now, and if she sees you here—”

In the distance he could hear the wail of a siren. “I’m not going anywhere. Not until
I know she’s all right.”

Bekah frowned for a moment, then took Johnny away from the front door. “What’s your
phone number? I’ll make sure to let you know what happens at the hospital.”

“But you don’t have a phone.”

“I’ll find one!” She pulled a pen out of the pocket of her apron and opened her palm.
“What’s your number?”

He told her and she scribbled it down before closing her fist. “Now
geh
. I promise, I’ll be in touch with you.” She turned and ran back in the house.

Johnny remained on the porch as the siren grew closer.
Panic gripped him, and he closed his eyes, his own problems fading away as he focused
on Katherine.
Lord, please help her.
Make sure she’s all right. And I promise, when this is over, I’ll never
leave her side
.

Cora sat on the edge of the plain, uncomfortable single bed at the Bylers’ house.
She missed her king-size down mattress, where she had plenty of room to stretch out
and get comfortable. Lately, despite her fatigue, she’d had trouble sleeping at night.
Since she’d stopped drinking wine, she feared she’d have to resort to sleeping pills.

More medication. Just what she didn’t want.

Despite her conversation with Anna that morning, Cora had refused her lunch invitation.
She had little appetite, and having had more time to ponder Anna’s words, Cora realized
she’d accomplished nothing other than discovering how deeply entrenched Sawyer was
in this Amish foolishness. She wouldn’t be able to get him back to New York. Not anytime
soon.

She sighed. Why couldn’t his adoptive family be cretins? Or money hungry? Anything
that would allow her to buy her grandson’s freedom. Yet they were neither, and they
were happy with their lot. That even seemed to include Cora’s presence. Neither Anna
nor Lukas had made her feel like an imposition.

She wouldn’t be able to say the same if the situation were reversed.

She needed to regroup, to figure out another way to get
Sawyer away from these people and with his true family. Yet she rejected every idea
she’d come up with. She’d even thought to draw on his compassion, which he seemed
to have in spades. After all, he’d fallen in love with a permanently scarred young
woman. But the only way she could draw on his pity was to admit her weakness—Parkinson’s.
And she just couldn’t bring herself to do that. Not yet.

The phone beeped, indicating the battery was almost dead. She didn’t have an outlet
to plug it into, or even a car to charge it. Fine, let the phone die.

A knock sounded at the door. Cora sighed and stood. She was a little wobbly, but quickly
regained her balance and walked to the door. When she opened it, she saw Anna standing
there. “Yes?”

“I wondered if you’d like some tea. I just made a fresh pot.” She twisted the end
of one of the white ribbons dangling from the headgear she wore. What an unflattering
hat. Cora thought that if the women in this community had to wear something on their
heads, at least it could be fashionable. Yet these were the least fashion-conscious
people she’d seen in her life.

“I’m fine,” Cora said, not inviting Anna in. Instead she started to close the door.

Anna slipped inside. “You’ve been up here all afternoon. I know you’re waiting for
Sawyer to come home. He should be here in an hour or so. I thought we could visit
a little more downstairs until he and Lukas came home.”

Cora lifted her chin. “I think we both understand each other’s perspectives.”

Anna’s smile slipped slightly. “That’s not what I meant. We haven’t had much of a
chance to get to know each other. I thought you could tell me about Sawyer’s mother.”

Cora turned away. “I’d rather not talk about my daughter.”

“Okay.” Anna’s voice held a small tremble. “Then maybe you could tell me about New
York? I’ve never been there before.”

A tiny sliver of ice thawed around Cora’s thickly encased heart. Anna knew why Cora
was here—to take Sawyer away. Still, she made an effort not only to be hospitable
and friendly but to make Cora feel at home. She would never understand these people.
“I’ll just wait here until Sawyer returns.”

Anna nodded, taking a few steps backward. “I’ll send him up when he gets here.”

“Thank you.” Cora followed her, almost pushing her out the door. When Anna left, Cora
closed the door and sat back on the bed. She folded her hands in her lap, keeping
her back straight.

The phone beeped two more times. Cora watched as the screen turned black. Her last
contact with the outside world.

She didn’t care about that now. All she wanted was to talk with Sawyer. To make one
last effort to convince him where his true destiny lay—not here with these people,
but with his blood family.

This was his last chance. She was done begging. And if he refused her—then he would
never see her again.