A Christmas for Katie

S
HELLEY
S
HEPARD
G
RAY

A C
HRISTMAS FOR
K
ATIE

A Christmas Families of Honor Novella

Epigraphs

I tell you the truth, if you had faith even as small as a mustard seed, you could say to this mountain, “Move from here to there,” and it would move. Nothing would be impossible.

M
ATTHEW
17:20

Even if something don’t seem like much, someone might think differently. Ain’t so?

K
ATIE
W
EAVER, AGE
6½

Contents

Chapter One

I
T WAS A
difficult thing, being Katie Weaver. At six and a half years old, she was about to be an aunt for the second time! But that was what happened when a girl had three much older married brothers, she supposed. After a while, they wanted to start families of their own.

Her brothers were good to her, and her new sisters were
wonderful-gut
, too. As was Mamm—when she wasn’t complaining about Katie driving her crazy.

But at the moment, Katie felt alone. No one seemed to care that the Christmas nativity was in danger of falling apart—right in front of their town’s eyes.

Staring at the front lawn of the Jacob’s Crossing Public Library, she glared at the run-down crèche, broken wooden cradle, and ten plastic figures that had probably been peeling paint since before her oldest brother, Calvin, was born. Crossing her arms underneath the heavy black cloak that her
mamm
had just made for her, she grumbled, “This won’t do. It won’t do at all.”

“What won’t do?” Ella Weaver, her favorite sister-in-law, asked.

Katie started. She’d thought Ella had gone inside a full five minutes ago. But though she’d thought she was talking to herself, she might as well be honest. “
None
of it.” When Ella tilted her head to one side looking like she didn’t hear her correctly, Katie cleared her throat and tried not to sound so whiney. “I mean, this whole nativity ain’t right. None of it is.”

Ella bent down to look at her in that patient, serious way she always did. “And what is wrong with the nativity, child?”

“To start with, it’s all worn down and old. Plus, it’s plastic.” Though that, of course, was mighty obvious.

Turning away from the plastic figures, she added, “Ella, what we need is a
real
nativity.”

“You think so, hmm?”

“
Jah
. With real people and animals. Not cracked and broken-down plastic ones.”

Ella tilted her head and eyed her quietly for a moment. Katie was sure she was going to use that
precocious
word people said to her so often. But instead, her sister-in-law nodded her head.

“A nativity scene made up of real people would be mighty special, for sure,” Ella said solemnly. “But it would be quite an undertaking. I don’t know too many people who want to stand out here for hours on end dressed like shepherds or wise men.”

“Not even to be Mary or Joseph?”

“Not even Mary or Joseph, I’m afraid. This has been a particularly cold and snowy December. Even Mary and Joseph sought shelter in a stable, yes?”

Her expression softening, Ella pressed a mittened hand on the back of Katie’s neck, just under the edge of her white
kapp
and black bonnet. “But I think I see your point, dear. Perhaps Loyal or Graham can get out their tools and fix things up. It does look as if a big wind could blow it all down.”

Having her brothers do repairs would be a definite improvement. But it wasn’t exactly what she wanted. “What do you think Miss Donovan would say if I asked her if real people could take the plastic people’s spots, just for one night?”

“Just for one night, hmm? Perhaps on Christmas Eve?”

Katie nodded, glad that she and Ella were thinking along the same lines. “Jah. That seems the best night for the nativity, don’t you think?”

Ella stared at her hard, then shrugged. “You know, I don’t think it would hurt to ask. Let’s go inside and see what Jayne has to say.”

Feeling a fresh burst of happiness, Katie reached for Ella’s hand and walked by her side into the library. Over a year ago, her sister-in-law had taken a job at the library, and now she was the children’s librarian. This was when Katie had first joined the summer reading club and had become a frequent visitor to the library, too. Both she and Ella had also become good friends with Miss Donovan, the head librarian.

When they got inside, the warm air of the library felt like a welcome caress after the freezing temperatures outside. Ella stretched her arms a bit and unbuttoned the top button of her winter cloak. With the cloak unfastened, Ella’s tummy looked even bigger than it usually did. “It feels much better in here, Katie,” she murmured quietly as they passed several groups of patrons, both Amish and English, as they walked toward the circulation desk.

But while nine times out of ten, that was where you’d find Miss Donovan, the chair she usually sat in was empty.

Katie looked this way and that. “Where could she be, Ella?”

“No telling. Let’s just be patient . . . ah, there she is.”

Katie followed Ella’s gaze and smiled brightly. Miss Donovan was standing in the middle of the nonfiction section. Her reading glasses were on, and she was kind of hunched over, reading one of the books intently. She snapped to attention when Katie called her name.

“Hi, Katie. I didn’t know you two were stopping by today.”

“Katie needed another book,” Ella said with a laugh. “Plus, the
doktah
said getting out of the
haus
is
gut
for me.”

“Ella’s gonna have a
boppli
,” Katie explained. Maybe a little too loudly.

Ella’s cheeks turned the color of the cranberries in her mother’s glass bowl. “Katie, hush!”

“Sorry. Anyway, Miss Donovan, me and Ella need to talk to you about something.”

After setting her book and reading glasses on one of the metal shelves, Miss Donovan raised a brow. “About what?”

“About the ugly nativity outside. I think we need real people instead of plastic.”

The librarian looked taken aback. “Well, now . . .”

Pressing on Katie’s shoulder, Ella cleared her throat. “Katie didn’t mean to be hurtful, did you, dear?”

Knowing what that firm hand meant, Katie shook her head. “No, Miss D.”

Looking pleased, Ella continued, “She was merely telling me outside how
wunderbaar
a real nativity would be for one night.”

“
Jah
. Just for Christmas Eve,” Katie said importantly.

The librarian’s pretty violet eyes softened. “Well, now that would be something, wouldn’t it?” She paused, gazed at the cover of the book she’d just set down, then shook her head. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t know the first thing about how to set that up. I don’t think I’m up for it this year, either. But we should keep it in mind for next Christmas.”

Katie couldn’t bear to let her idea get tossed away like yesterday’s trash. “But, Miss D., it wouldn’t be hard. I’d find all the people for it.”

“That’s all well and good, but they’d need costumes.”

“I bet Ella and my other sisters-in-law could help with them. Right, Ella?”

“I suppose we could,” Ella said, with a twinkle in her eye.

Miss Donovan smiled, but after a moment shook her head. “As I said, maybe next year. I’m afraid I’m not up for doing one more thing this Christmas season.”

“But—”

Ella pressed her shoulder again. Hard enough for Katie to realize that it was time to stop with her pestering. “Katie, we asked,” she said firmly. “Now let’s let Miss Donovan have some privacy,
jah
?”

Katie didn’t argue, Even she knew when it was
really
time to stop. But she couldn’t help but hang her head the whole time they left the building.

Her brother Loyal was waiting for them in his buggy when they stumbled outside and into the biting wind. He got out, helped Ella and Katie inside, then got in around the other side. Once they were all settled, he jiggled Rex’s reins, and Rex took off at a happy trot.

Ella was seated right next to Loyal, and Katie noticed that she cuddled awfully close, like she was half stuck to his side. But after a few minutes, Loyal asked about their trip to the library.

Katie couldn’t help but share her dilemma.

Loyal nodded. “That is too bad. I wonder why Jayne doesn’t feel up to the project? It doesn’t sound like that difficult of an undertaking. And it would be fun to see a big crowd out in the middle of our town on Christmas Eve, gathered around a living crèche.”

“I think she’s unhappy,” Ella murmured. After a quick glance in Katie’s direction, she added, “I saw the cover of the book Jayne was reading when we approached. It was titled
Finding Mr. Right
.”

Loyal laughed. “Maybe she’s simply reading a romance.”

“No, I’ve shelved that book. It’s a self-help book for people who can’t seem to get lucky in love.”

“Like us?”

Katie inwardly groaned at the sweet puppy-dog looks they were giving each other.

But suddenly, it all made sense. A year ago, her uncle John had stopped dating Miss Donovan because he’d fallen in love with Mary Zehr. Ever since, Miss D. had seemed kind of blue.

Maybe Miss Donovan was lonely?

“We need to find Miss D. her own man,” Katie decided. All before she’d realized that she’d spoken aloud.

“Katie, don’t you dare start matchmaking,” Loyal warned.

“But this is important. Miss D. needs to be happy, too. And if she was happy and in love, then I’m sure she’d feel more like helping with me the nativity.”

Her brother groaned. “Katie, life isn’t all about what you want.”

“Oh, I know that. But even you can see that you two are happier together than you were alone. Miss D. would be happier with someone, too.”

“Yes, but—”

“Lots of people come into the library, Loyal,” she added in a rush as Rex clip-clopped toward home. “All we need to do is find one man who strikes her fancy.”

“Strikes her fancy?” Ella echoed as she adjusted her eyeglasses a bit. “Oh, Katie. Falling in love isn’t that easy.”

“But God can help, and with Him, all things are possible. At least, that’s what Mamm always says.” When Loyal guided Rex to a stop at a red light, she paused for emphasis, because she knew that to be true. “Right?”

After a long moment, Ella slipped her arm around Katie’s shoulders and squeezed gently. “Yes, dear. With God all things are possible, indeed.”

As Loyal clicked the reins, and Rex started forward, Katie smiled. She was going to talk to God about the whole thing, and then, for sure, it was going to happen. Miss Donovan was going to find love and they were going to have a
wonderful-gut
Christmas nativity.

Just in time for Christmas.

Chapter Two

A
T A QUARTER
to eight, Jayne Donovan began watching the clock in earnest. In fifteen minutes, she could shut down the computer, turn off the lights, and lock the door. In fifteen minutes, her terrible, no good, very bad day would be over.

She smiled at her private reference to the popular children’s book. Before Ella, she’d never paid much attention to children’s picture books. But now that Ella had been reading to the preschoolers for almost a year, Jayne realized she’d become as much a fan of children’s literature as most of the four-year-olds in the area. There was something about Ella Weaver, and the stories she read, that was simply infectious.

It was really too bad that Ella was related to John Weaver, the Man She Hoped to Never See Again.

Which, of course, was a pipe dream. Jacob’s Crossing was a small town, and John was Ella’s husband’s uncle. And one of Miss Katie Weaver’s favorite people. And since Katie was one of Jayne’s favorite children . . . well, it seemed they were destined to run into each other. Constantly.

The door burst open with a
whoosh
. “How soon do you close?” a man called out.

Jayne didn’t recognize him. “Um, ten minutes,” she said, feeling the hair on the back of her neck rise. “May I help you find something?”

“Yeah,” he said, striding toward her in dark jeans, heavy work boots, a black ski jacket, and a determined expression. “I need a couple of mysteries by Lee Child. And a cookbook.” Eyes the color of freshly brewed Starbucks looked at her directly. “Can you help me?”

“Of course.” She was still attempting to quell her nerves when she noticed that his jacket had an insignia of the Jacob’s Crossing Sheriff’s Department. “You’re a cop,” she exclaimed.

He nodded. “Yeah.” Still gazing at her in that direct way of his, he added, “Is that a problem?”

She decided to be honest. “Not at all. It just means you’re not a psycho killer.”

That drew him to a stop, and made a wry expression appear on his face. “You get a lot of those around here?”

“Of course not. It’s just dark . . . and late. I guess my imagination got the best of me.”

A reluctant smile lit his face. “I can see how that could happen, being surrounded by all these books.”

Finally walking around from the safety of the circulation table, she smiled. “Is there a certain Lee Child title you’re looking for? I can go get it while you look at the cookbooks.”

“You always this helpful?”

“Only to cops and deputies,” she quipped. Unable to help herself, she said, “My dad was a cop.”

“Retired?”

“Yep. He put in twenty-five years with the Cleveland Police Department.”

“I just moved here from Kentucky. A little town right outside of Paducah.”

“Bit of a change from northern Ohio, I think.”

“I’ll say. The guys have been giving me a lot of grief about what I think is a lot of snow.”

“We get that lake effect snow, what with Lake Erie being so close and all,” she began before cutting herself off. “I’m sorry, I bet you’ve heard that one a lot.”

“It’s still true, though,” he said wryly. “It’s taken some getting used to, but I’m getting the hang of it.” After glancing at the clock again, he said, “Either
Tripwire
or
Running Blind
.”

“What? Oh, right. And let me take you to the cookbooks.”

Fighting off a sudden blushing problem, she led him through the stacks to the back wall. “Here they are. I’ll be right back.”

“Thanks, Miss . . .”

“Jayne,” she supplied. “Please, just call me Jayne.” Surprising herself. Rarely did she give her first name. Rarely did anyone ever ask it.

“All right. Thanks, Jayne.”

She skittered away before she did something dumb, and trotted to the fiction books. Glad for once that the fiction titles were shelved on the other side of the library, Jayne took a deep breath.

The man was in luck. She pulled both of the volumes. For a moment, she’d been tempted to hand him the books, just like an eager admirer, but she stopped herself in time. He’d come for books, not to be followed. So she forced herself to stand back at the circulation desk and wait.

A few minutes later, he strode out of the stacks, his hands full. When he saw her, he grinned. “Any luck?”

“I found both the titles, and it looks like you found what you were looking for, too.”

“I did.” His smile was suddenly boyish.

Her heart thumped a little faster. She struggled to keep her features neutral. No way did she want him to be aware of how he affected her!

“I don’t believe you have a library card, do you?”

“No, ma’am.”

She glanced at the time. “If you wouldn’t mind just telling me your basic information, I’ll enter it right into the system.”

“No problem.”

“Name?”

“Connor Fields.”

“Address?”

“83 Wentworth Circle. Jacob’s Crossing.”

She stilled.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just that you live on my street.”

He smiled. “Who would have guessed?”

She smiled right back, got his phone number, then quickly scanned his books, noticing that the cookbooks were for Thai food. “That’s pretty adventurous cooking for around here.”

“I’m an adventurous guy.”

She laughed as she handed him the books. “Have a good night, Deputy Fields.”

“You too, Jayne.”

He’d just grabbed his books when they heard a loud thump followed by a shrill scream.

It sounded like someone had just been attacked outside her door.

Her heart started beating faster and she grasped the edge of the circulation desk for support. “Connor?”

His expression had gone from relaxed and warm to all business in the space of a heartbeat. “Stay here for a sec, Jayne,” he said over his shoulder as he strode toward the door. “Let me see what happened.”

She stood where she was for a minute, but then curiosity got the best of her. She walked toward the door and practically pressed her nose to the cold glass windows that made up the middle of each door. This was her library, and she wanted to see what was happening, even if she didn’t go outside.

At first she only saw Connor speaking with a man who looked about eighteen or nineteen. She waited and watched, trying to connect the screech she’d heard with the young man. Craning her neck, she tried to see more of the area around Connor.

Then she froze.

A woman about seventy years old was lying on the ground, right in front of the nativity. After saying something more to the man, Connor knelt beside her.

Jayne strained her eyes, doing her best to see through the shadows cast by the front entryway’s lights. Now she saw Connor was speaking on a cell phone. He had a strange expression on his face.

A trickle of fear knotted her insides. Whatever had happened hadn’t been good.

Well, it certainly seemed that her no good, very bad day wasn’t over yet.

Something very bad had just happened, and it had taken place practically on her front doorstep.