The Protector (10 page)

Chapter 16

J
ust a block from her house, Loyal held up his white sack and hoped he didn’t look too desperate. “I’ve got donuts. Do you have time to have one before work?”

A whole wealth of expressions crossed Ella’s face. So much so, that Loyal felt he was getting a front-row seat into her mind as confusion, pleasure, and hope flashed before him.

It was that look of hope that made him smile a bit more brightly. “I hope you can spare me a few minutes,” he added.

“Sure. That sounds fine,” she said finally.

That sounds fine?
For a moment there, she’d looked like she was about to tell him something of great importance. “There’s a bench about a block from here, off to the side. Do you want to go there?”

“
Jah
. I would like that.”

That was not the response he’d been hoping for.

Loyal stepped to Ella’s side and walked beside her on the sidewalk, waiting for a friendly smile. But whatever he’d thought was between them seemed to have disappeared. Was she no longer interested in him? “Is something the matter?” he finally asked after they’d gone halfway and she’d kept her lips tightly shut. “Are you upset with me for some reason?”

She darted a glance his way. “Not at all.”

“I guess I was mistaken.”

With another glance, her lips curved into a smile. “I suppose I deserved that, didn’t I? I’m sorry. I’m a bit distracted, and a little worried about something.”

“If you’d care to share, I bet I can help.”

She tilted her head up to him as they stopped under the welcome shade of a maple. “It’s nothing.” She bit her lip as indecision crossed her face again. “Well, maybe talking about things might help . . .”

Though it was a little forward, he took her arm, guided her to the bench, and sat beside her. “What do you want to talk about? Are you having trouble with your new job?”

“Oh, no. It’s a wonderful-
gut
job. As you know.” She shook her head with a smile. “That Katie, she makes me laugh, she does.”

“Ella, though we have Katie now, I basically grew up with boys. We don’t beat around the bush when we have something on our minds. What is the matter?”

She inhaled deeply. “Someone told me that it makes no sense for you to want to spend time with me. And now, when I think about it, I suppose that is true.”

“You’ve lost me. Why wouldn’t I want to spend time with you?”

Her foot started tapping. Loyal watched her black shoe beat a staccato rhythm, getting faster and louder until it made him grit his teeth.

It took everything he had not to step on her toes to put an end to it. “Ella? Please?”

“I’m older than you,” she finally said in a rush.

“By one year. That hardly counts. Is that the big problem?”

“Not exactly.”

“Ella . . .”

“Oh . . . all right. It’s also this,” she said, waving a hand over herself.

Concentrating, he looked hard at her dress, but for the life of him, he didn’t notice anything special about it. Panic set in.

He’d heard girls liked men to notice things about them. Special things, like new dresses. “Is your
rokk
new?” he asked, hoping he’d guessed right.

“Of course not.”

“Oh.” Feeling remarkably dumb, he took another look at it. All he noticed about it was that it was gray. And looked pretty much like every other woman’s dress. Seeing that she was waiting for some specific pronouncement, Loyal swallowed. “Um. It’s a right fine dress?”

“Oh, Loyal. I’m not talking about the dress, I’m talking about me.”

Now panic was really settling in. He had no idea about how to respond to that. She was just . . . Ella. “What about you?”

“Come, now. You know.”

“I don’t. Aren’t we talking in circles now?”

“All right. I’ve got glasses. And thick brown hair.” She wrinkled her nose. “And I’m tall, too.”

“I know.”

“Loyal, I’m not petite at all. And I’ve got big feet.” Softly, she repeated, “I’m not small at all.”

While it was true he used to think of her as
Plain Ella,
now Loyal thought about her far differently. He liked that she was almost as tall as him. And that she didn’t look as if she’d break if she went for a long walk . . . or if he gave her a hug. Actually, he had thought she’d fit quite nicely in his arms.

And her hair? He liked it. His hair was a shade darker than his brother’s wife’s hair—but even Lucy’s caramel-blond color didn’t seem as rich and vibrant as Ella’s.

He almost laughed off her concerns. Truthfully, they sounded so silly. But then, he noticed a hesitation in her eyes and rethought his decision. “I’ve never minded your height. And your feet, well, I imagine that God decided you needed feet the size they are in order to support your frame.” When he finished, he smiled in satisfaction.

But she didn’t smile back. “Loyal. . . . Truly, that’s all you think?”

“Of course. I don’t mind the glasses. I like that you can see,” he teased.

“Loyal, it’s just, if you’re looking for someone to, uh, court, I don’t think we’d suit.”

She caught him off guard. Though he had been picking her up, spending time with her, and meeting her in the morning, he hadn’t actually thought of those things as courting gestures. Though, of course they were.

He was merely a man, but even he knew such advances were signs of interest. “Do we have to think about the future? I just like being with you. Isn’t that enough for now?”

She looked at him with consideration. “Perhaps it is.”

“And, Ella, there’s not a thing wrong with you. I can promise you that. Any man would be grateful for your companionship.”

“You almost sound as if you mean that.”

“I do. Now have a donut.” He reached into the sack and pulled out a cinnamon twist.

Her eyes lit up. “That’s my favorite.”

“I know.” While she took her first bite, he said, “Who’s been telling you such things, anyway?”

“No one special. Just a friend.”

“Dorothy?”

“Jah,”
she allowed after she swallowed. “Things with her haven’t gotten much better. The other night, when we were at the farm, she came into my place uninvited. She left a note on the counter.” She paused, then added, “And I know she opened some of my drawers and cabinets.”

“That’s not good.”

Biting her lip again, Ella said, “She told me again not to see you. Matter of fact, she didn’t like me seeing Corinne, either.”

“Oh, Ella.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what to do.”

“How about I talk to her?”

“And what would you say, Loyal?”

“I’d say who you are friends with is none of her concern.”

“I agree, but it might only make things worse.” She jumped to her feet. “I need to go to work, Loyal.”

“I’ll walk you there.”

“Dorothy’s working. Would you mind much if you didn’t?”

“Now you don’t even want her to see us together?” Loyal was pretty sure he was never going to understand a woman’s mind. “Ella, her interest makes no sense.”

“I know that. But if she sees us together, she’ll do nothing but want to talk about her opinions all day. And that makes for a terribly long day.” She edged away. “I thank you for the donut. And your time, and your ears. Seeing you, and talking things over with you, helped me much. It was a mighty
gut
treat, Loyal.”

“I’ll see you soon,” he promised. “Goodbye.”

He was tempted to add something else, something about how he wanted to take her to the farm again, but she’d already turned and was walking at a quick pace toward the city square.

And though he had a lot to do, he decided that perhaps it was time to learn a little bit more about Dorothy Zook.

M
ary Zehr finally came back into John’s shop just a little after ten. It was the first time she’d ever arrived without Abel, and John thought she looked even younger without a growing boy dwarfing her slim frame.

“Hi,” he said. “I was wondering if you were ever going to stop by again.”

“Oh? Well, a person can’t eat donuts too much, you know.”

She seemed vaguely hesitant. Not quite looking at him in the eye. John wondered what was wrong.

Hoping to encourage her to talk a bit, to let him into her life, he smiled. “So, not even Abel can eat donuts all day, hmm?”

But instead of smiling right back at him, tears welled up in her eyes.

John darted around the counter and reached for her hand. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

For a split second, Mary’s hand relaxed in his, then she pulled it away and straightened. “It’s nothing. Just that I’m not quite sure what to do with him.”

He guided her to a table near the back wall, where few people ever sat, giving her at least a modicum of privacy. After she sat, he pulled out a chair next to her. “What’s going on? Is he pulling away?”

She nodded. “For a long time, it’s just been him and me against the world. But now”—her lip trembled—“now, I’m afraid, it’s just me.”

Struggling to keep his expression open and his voice soft, he said, “If I told you it was his age, would you believe me?”

“Nee.”

She was certainly honest! He couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, Mary. I’m no parent, but I remember getting letters from my brother Jacob about his three boys. They all pull away, I think. I know I did.”

“Truly?”

“Definitely. It’s part of growing up.”

With a sniff, she looked at him doubtfully. “Then what happens?”

“Then they come back.” Even as he said the words, he couldn’t help but reflect that there was more than a little bit of irony there. After all, he was living proof that people came back—sometimes even after twenty years.

“I don’t know what to do in the meantime.” She traced a circle on the table with one neatly trimmed nail. “He got mad at me this morning when I tried to help him make his lunch for school.” Raising her chin, she shook her head. “I know it doesn’t sound like that’s terribly important, but it still makes me sad.”

“I’m sure it does.” He was prevented from continuing when the door opened. “Will you stay here for a moment? I’ll help these folks, then bring us some coffee and donuts.”

As if aware that they were seated by themselves, Mary braced her hands on the table like she was ready to pop up. “John, maybe—”

“Please? Please stay?”

Almost reluctantly, she nodded.

Smiling at the group of four teenagers that came in, he got their donuts, poured two full mugs of hot coffee, and prepared one latte.

Then he set another pot to brewing, put the last cinnamon roll on a plate for Mary, and brought back two cups of coffee and her treat. “Here we go.”

Right away, she cut off a corner of the bun and popped it into her mouth. A momentary look of bliss transformed her face, making him realize that Mary had a sweet tooth.

And something else. This wasn’t just friendly concern or pity for her plight he was feeling.

Nope, he was attracted to both her angelic looks and her sweet, caring nature. Once more, he was becoming attracted to the way she made him feel . . . like he was valued.

However, he instinctively knew she would shy away from any romantic gestures he made. So it was best to keep things easy. With that in mind, he did his best to concentrate on Abel. “Mary, what I think you need is some help.”

“I have help—”

“I mean for Abel. Boys need a male influence. You know, someone to cut up with.”

Her eyes widened. “I don’t know what that means.”

“Nothing bad,” he promised with a smile. “I’m just trying to say that it’s been my experience that boys need someone to be boys with. To do all those things moms get mad at them for.”

“Like play basketball?”

“Something like that.” Actually, John had been thinking more of something along the lines of a little baser behavior. To talk about things that moms didn’t want to think about. To burp and make bad jokes and say things that weren’t entirely appropriate. Nothing too bad.

She tugged in the bottom of her lip again, obviously trying hard to think of someone who could be that person for her boy.

“Do you have someone in your life who could be there for Abel?” he asked.

She stared hard at him. “I think so,” she said slowly.

He relaxed. “Oh, good. Who?”

“You,” she said just as she took another bite of that cinnamon bun and once again closed her eyes with happiness.

His mouth went dry, but whether it was from her pronouncement or that look on her face, he wasn’t sure.

“Mary, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

Her eyes popped open. “Why?”