The Protector (4 page)

“Yes. We are very different,” he agreed. Feeling strangely deflated.

Because, really, what else could he say? It didn’t matter if he thought she was pretty, or that he ached to be a better person for her.

Neither of them were young innocents. Life had happened, and with it they’d had successes and failures—and they carried those burdens with them. Neither badges of honor or scars of shame.

She scooted back in her stool from the counter. Not much, just an inch or two. But it was enough to further separate them. And enough to raise a wall between them, making sure the separation was there. Keeping them apart, reminding them that they were very different.

Abel walked up to them. “Mamm? Can we go soon? You said I could go fishing this afternoon, as soon as I finished my chores.”

“It’s not even nine yet, Abel. You’ll have time.”

Restless, he fidgeted from one foot to the other. “Well, are you almost done?”

It was on the tip of John’s tongue to tell the boy to settle down and give his mother some space.

But of course he couldn’t. It wasn’t his place.

Most likely it would never be his place.

Mary pushed the half-eaten treat away from her. “
Jah
, child. I am finished.
Danke
, John.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, watching them leave.

“Got any more coffee, John?” one of the men called out.

“Yeah . . . sure,” he replied. With effort, he blocked out any longing he had for Mary. She was as off limits to him as so many worldly things had been to him years ago.

Before he’d changed and chosen a different path for himself. He needed to remember that.

And not recall that he actually had done everything he could to get those worldly things he’d wanted. That when he wanted something badly enough, he was willing to do whatever it took.

Yep. He hoped he would forget that real soon.

Chapter 6

L
oyal had been easy to talk to. And so friendly and kind, too, Ella mused as she entered the library.

Though at first she’d feared he was only talking to her out of guilt, before long, Ella knew they were having a true conversation. Just like they had more in common than a farm.

Two women looked up from comfortable chairs near the nonfiction section. Ella smiled at them before continuing on to Ms. Donovan’s office.

And though she knew she should be thinking about her first day of work, only thoughts of Loyal seemed to occupy her mind.

What would happen the next time they met? she wondered as she circled around two patrons standing in front of the new releases. Maybe she and Loyal would start talking nonstop, as though there had never been any awkwardness between them.

Just imagining that made her smile. Now wouldn’t
that
be something?

Still daydreaming—and just steps from Ms. Donovan’s door—Dorothy stopped her with a hand on her arm. “What did Loyal Weaver want? I saw him walking with you.”

Ella looked at her curiously. “He wanted nothing. We were merely talking.”

Slowly, Dorothy removed her hand, but she still stood too close. “What would you two have to talk about?”

“Nothing of importance.” Ella stepped away, needing some space. Because Dorothy looked so worried, she attempted to lighten the mood. “Dorothy, why in the world are you asking me all these questions? Why do you care so much about what I say to Loyal?”

“Oh, no reason.”

“Truly?”

Dorothy looked away, as if she was embarrassed. “I guess I care because we’re such good friends now.”

Now?
“Dorothy, we’ve always been good friends . . .”

“Yes, of course,” she said quickly with a flash of a smile. “But about Loyal, please don’t trust him too much. Don’t forget his true personality.”

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to.” Ella shook her head, a thread of foreboding running through her. She didn’t want to hear this. Didn’t want to hear anything bad about Loyal. More than that, she didn’t want to think about why Dorothy now looked so eager to pass on gossip.

“Loyal only thinks about himself, Ella. You know that, right?”

“Of course I don’t know any such thing.”

“You should. Handsome men like him are all the same, you know,” Dorothy added, her words becoming firmer. Louder.

When an elderly lady glared in their direction, Dorothy circled a hand around Ella’s elbow and started whispering. “You need to start ignoring him, Ella. That or tell him to leave you alone.”

“All we were doing was walking,” Ella retorted, feeling more uncomfortable by the second. No matter what, she certainly wasn’t going to start telling Loyal to leave her be. She’d been alone her whole life—long enough to appreciate a man’s conversation. And, well, this was Loyal Weaver. The man for whom she’d held a secret infatuation. For years.

“He shouldn’t be saying a word to you. Doesn’t he know he already caused you enough pain?”

Ella didn’t know whether she was more perturbed about Dorothy watching her movements from the windows or for her attitude. Her friend had no worries about sharing her opinions, that was for sure! “You have everything wrong. He only walked over to see if I wanted some donuts.” She paused. “And to ask some questions about the house.”

A look of smug pleasure entered her eyes. “Ah, so that’s why he was talking to you. He wanted to gloat.”

Though she was sure Dorothy hadn’t intended to sound so mean, Ella’s feelings were still hurt.

Was that all Dorothy thought she was ever going to be? Only worth talking to if it was about a farm? “Loyal was only being neighborly.”

Dorothy looked her over before pursing her lips. “Perhaps. Oh, well, it doesn’t matter now anyway,” she said lightly. “Before long, we’ll be so busy doing activities together, people like Loyal won’t even be able to chat with you.” She shrugged. “Plus, it ain’t like you’re neighbors now. Now you’re my neighbor.”

Adjusting the glasses on the bridge of her nose, Ella fought the urge to run away from Dorothy.

Dorothy truly wasn’t making any sense. To her ears, it sounded as if her friend thought Ella intended to change everything about herself. Not just her place of residence, but her dreams and goals, too.

“I need to go. I need to go tell Ms. Donovan I’m here,” she said, hating that her voice sounded almost desperate. “I am anxious to get started.”

All the lines of worry on Dorothy’s brow faded. “I almost forgot.
Jah!
Indeed, you’d better go in now before she counts you late.”

Ella was beyond frustrated as she turned to the door. If she was late, it had been because Dorothy hadn’t let her go.

To her back, Dorothy spoke. “Now, don’t worry if you don’t understand everything right away. I’ll help you.”

Ella didn’t bother to answer. Instead, she rolled her shoulders, hoping they’d relax as she shrugged off her doubts about Dorothy—and her confusing feelings about Loyal.

What mattered the most was making a good first impression. She wanted this job. She’d wanted this job—and her independence—more than anything she’d ever wanted in her life.

“Ms. Donovan, I’m here,” she said after knocking on the head librarian’s door.

With a spin of her chair, Jayne Donovan turned from computer to the front of her desk and held out her hand. “Hello, Ella. I see you’re right on time, too.”

Pure relief made Ella smile.

The manager smiled right back. “Now, first things first. From now on, you call me Jayne. Agreed?”

“All right.”

“Well, that was easy. I think we’re going to get along just great,” she said, putting Ella even more ease. “Now have a seat and let’s get acquainted.”

Within minutes, Ella found out Jayne was a transplant from Kentucky. She’d gotten two degrees at the university in Lexington. She wasn’t married, either.

Every so often, a word would slip out with a Kentucky twang that made her seem all the more approachable. “Now, I have your paperwork for you to fill out. And after that, I thought I’d give you your first job—reading to the preschoolers.”

Happiness filled her heart. This was what she’d dreamed about when Dorothy had first told her about the job. Ella wanted to be around children. “I would enjoy that.”

“I had hoped you would. The three- and four-year-olds are darling, though a little rambunctious at times. But that’s to be expected, I think. You do enjoy children, don’t you?”

“I love children.” Feeling more sure of herself, she confided, “I’m looking forward to having my own family one day.”

“Well, if you ever have the desire to be around a houseful of children, let me know. My sister has five children, and I seem to be their only babysitter.”

“Anytime,” Ella said, knowing she meant it. She was anxious to jump into her new life. Anxious to be so busy that she wouldn’t think about Loyal using her old kitchen. Cooking on her old stove . . .

Or the tiny bit of new wariness she felt around Dorothy. She’d known Dorothy for years . . . but now, as she was living next door, Ella was wondering if maybe she hadn’t really known her at all.

T
he problem with being five years old, Katie Weaver decided, was that nobody listened to you. Not her three older brothers—they were always too busy with their own plans to hear about hers.

Not her father, he was up in heaven with the angels. And though she supposed he did listen to her when she said her prayers, his listening didn’t really count, ’cause she couldn’t hear what he said right back.

Most times her mother paid attention to what she said—when she wasn’t busy canning and gardening and cleaning. Or helping ladies organize things. Or helping Lucy and Calvin get settled in their new home, her parents’ first house, on the other side of the barn.

For a while, Katie had followed Uncle John around, and would talk with him. But he was gone now, too, working in his donut shop and sleeping above it.

And today, not even Lucy was listening to her—which was really too bad, because back before Lucy became Calvin’s wife, Katie had thought they’d talk and listen to each other all the time.

As she stared at Lucy, who was writing letters on the other side of the worn kitchen table, Katie sighed.

Lucy looked up in that distracted way of hers, caught Katie’s eye, and then looked at her directly.

Finally.

“Why are you frowning at me?” her sister-in-law asked. “And furthermore, what has you so upset?”

“Nothin’.”

“Oh, it’s something, all right. All morning, all you’ve been doing is scowling.” She looked down at her dress and apron, like she was afraid it was stained or something. “Have I done something to upset you?”

Before Katie could comment, Calvin joined them. Right before her eyes, he walked right past Katie and kissed Lucy’s cheek. Then smiled and kissed her again, but this time on the lips. Right there at the table!
Yuck!

Katie sighed.

“What is wrong, dear?” Lucy asked.

“It’s certainly nothing you’ve done,” Calvin murmured before straightening and glaring in Katie’s direction.

“I didn’t say nothing,” Katie blurted.

“Nothing of importance,” Calvin countered, his voice clipped. And impatient, too.

Katie was just about to defend herself when he turned away from her—again—and bent over Lucy. And kissed her
again.

Their third kiss.

“Don’t mind Katie none,” he murmured to Lucy, his voice all soft and gentle like flower petals from a daisy. “My little sister has always been like this. She stews more often than a watched pot.”

Turning to Katie, he stood straight and glared at her. “You’d best wipe off that scowl, sister. No one wants to be frowned at by you.”

“Well, no one wants to look at you kissing,” she snapped right back. “You know you shouldn’t be kissing at the table.
Three
times.” She held up three fingers for good measure.

Lucy’s cheeks pinked. And Calvin’s eyes narrowed.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Katie, you’re embarrassing Lucy. And furthermore, I, for one, have had enough of this new, saucy attitude of yours.”

Though she felt a bit embarrassed for making Lucy uncomfortable, she jutted her chin out. “I don’t have any saucy attitude.” And she didn’t think she did, either. Even if she wasn’t quite sure what his comment meant.

“It’s obvious that you do,” her brother retorted. “And once more, if you don’t—”

With a hand on his arm, Lucy intervened. “Settle down, Calvin. I’ll talk to her,” she said quietly.

Talk
to her. Katie felt tears of frustration lick her eyelashes. Oh, she knew what
that
would entail: Lucy would talk and Katie would listen. Oh, but she was so tired of being made to feel like she was in the way.

“It’s time you went back out to the fields,” Lucy continued. “Graham’s already there. He’s probably lookin’ for you.”

“Perhaps,” Calvin allowed.

With a soft smile, Lucy patted his arm. “Then you’d best get on your way,
jah
? You said you had a lot planned to do today.”

Still glaring at Katie, he nodded. “I do. Then later, I told Loyal that I’d go help him a bit with his broken-down barn . . .”

Lucy stood up. “So it’s time for you to leave. Go now.”

“You’ll be all right?”

“Of course, Calvin,” she said sweetly. As Katie watched, Calvin kissed and hugged Lucy again, and even pressed his hands to her stomach and whispered to her. Right then, Lucy’s lips curved upward and her eyes got all dreamy. Then, to her dismay, he kissed her yet again.

Kisses—four
and
five!

As soon as the kitchen door closed, Katie breathed a sigh of relief. Though she remembered her mother’s lecture about how newlyweds needed time together, Katie thought this was a bit much. After all, they’d been married three months. Surely they’d been together enough?

Lucy cleared her throat. “Now, my dear little sister, do you care to tell me now what is wrong?”

“Do you even want to listen?”

“Of course I do.”

“Really?”

“Katie Weaver, you need to adopt a better tone of voice. Now. I don’t want to hear you be so whiney.”

Katie weighed her options. It was becoming obvious that she could either try once again to get someone to listen to her, or she was going to have to give up. But that would mean she’d be stuck sitting by herself in her room.

“Lucy, two weeks ago during supper I said I wanted to go to the library. Do you remember?”

She looked at Katie curiously. “I do.”

“Every morning, I try to get someone to take me, but they’re too busy.”