A Christmas for Katie (6 page)

“They’d rattle anyone.” Giving in to temptation, he brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Listen, I promise we’ll continue to keep a lookout. But in the meantime, there’s nothing we can do about it tonight, Jayne. Let me get you home.”

She stepped a little closer to him, seeming to find comfort in his touch.

He was happy to oblige, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I promise, I’ll keep hunting for the thief.”

“Thanks.” Looking at him through half-lidded eyes, she said, “Are you going to try to follow me home again?”

“Maybe.” When he spied her look of dismay, he shifted around, so that he had both hands loosely linked behind her waist. “I mean, it depends.”

“On what?”

She was standing so close, her chin tilted up at him. Her lips slightly parted.

“On whether I get a kiss good night, of course.” He’d already decided kissing her cheek was for the birds.

“Kiss you? On our first date?” Her brows rose, but her eyes sparkled.

“It is technically our first date, but we’ve been through a lot lately,” he said, doing his best to look put upon. “Dealing with stolen nativity figures isn’t easy. I’ve been around the library a lot, too. And we did spend quite a bit of time here when I came in for cookbooks.”

“That’s when Mrs. Jensen was attacked and I got questioned!”

“It still counts, in dating terms.”

Her lips curved up. “I suppose I should kiss you then. Just to make sure you stay around. All to keep Katie Weaver happy, of course.”

“She’ll be happy to hear that you’re doing everything you possibly can to help. That’s important,” he murmured. Just as he pressed his lips to hers, right there on the library’s front lawn.

He felt a little bad he didn’t wait until they were standing somewhere more private. But sometimes a man could be patient for only so long— and he had been thinking about kissing her for the last two hours. That was long enough.

Because, of course, her kiss was just about the sweetest thing he could have imagined.

Chapter Nine

K
ATIE LOVED HER
books. She loved tagging along with her older brothers and her new sisters when they ran errands. She loved making snowmen, and she loved how her uncle John almost always brought her two custard and chocolate donuts whenever he came to the house.

But she most certainly did not love the thief who kept stealing the nativity figures from the front of the library.

On Monday morning, as she was standing next to Graham and Loyal, she gazed in dismay at the sorry-looking nativity. All that was left was a grumpy-looking cow, a donkey missing one of its ears, one wise man, and a sad-looking Joseph. Oh, and a really run-down looking crèche. “Things are getting worse by the second,” she stated.

Her brother Graham took off his hat and scratched his head. “It sure seems that way, Katie. I’ve never heard of a person taking biblical figures before. It sure don’t seem right. And taking a plastic lamb? That just seems dumb. I sure wouldn’t want a lamb that looked like this.”

“You should see the baby Jesus that Miss D. has waiting in her storage room!” Katie grumbled. “He doesn’t look good at all. Kind of sickly, if you want to know the truth.”

“Sickly, hmm?” Graham coughed, just like he was trying not to laugh. “Well, what I want to know is why would anyone want to steal the figures?”

“I have no idea. But the whys of it don’t concern us, right?”

She slumped. “I suppose.”

“Don’t fret, little sister,” Loyal said as he wrapped a reassuring arm around her shoulders. “Don’t forget, Miss D.’s policeman friend said they’re going to track down the figures. Someone’s got them, for sure.”

Jacob’s Crossing was a pretty big place. She didn’t know how the deputy was ever going to find them. “Do you think they’ll have any luck?”

“I do. God has to be on our side for this case,” Graham said. “Try not to worry. And don’t forget how all those people volunteered to stand in for the real figures on Christmas Eve. Somehow, someway, we’ll have a display here on the library front lawn.”

“But it won’t be perfect.”

“It doesn’t need to be,” Graham admonished. “And try not to forget that what really matters is the real Jesus, and our faith and love for Him and each other. Those are the things to be thinking about right now.”

Katie knew her brothers were right. But all the same, she couldn’t help but think that there was enough room in her heart to yearn for a better Christmas display.

But she’d just about given up on trying to get everyone to see how important it was to her. “So, are we going to leave now?”

“Of course not,” Graham said. “Loyal and me said we’d help you sand and repaint the crèche, and that’s what we’re going to do.”

“Even if Mary’s gone missing?”

“When Mary shows up, she’s going to need a place to be, right? And the English girl who’s going to take her place on Christmas Eve needs a place to stand. Ain’t so?”

Feeling better, Katie nodded. “May I help?”

“You may,” Loyal replied. “Go ask Miss Donovan if she minds if we move the crèche onto the cement, over by the covered entrance. I want to have somewhere relatively dry to set the crèche on. This wet, snowy grass won’t do.”

“I’ll ask her.” She scampered in, anxious to hear the latest about the librarian’s romance, too.

Miss D. was on the phone, so Katie walked through the book stacks until she located her aunt. But what she saw stopped her in her tracks. Instead of finding Ella chatting with children, or carefully shelving books, Katie spied her aunt down one of the book stacks, leaning against a shelf, grimacing in pain.

“Ella!” she cried out, running toward her.

“Shh!” an old, gray-haired lady whispered.

Ignoring her, Katie rushed past all the people glaring at her until she got to her sister-in-law’s side. “Ella, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Little by little, the lines right above Ella’s glasses smoothed. “Katie, God bless you! I had begun to think I was going to have to call out for help. Go get Loyal, wouldja?”

Katie stepped a little closer, so close that if she reached out, she could touch Ella’s hand. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Is the baby sick?”

As if she was struggling to talk, Ella said slowly, “I don’t want to talk now, child. Go do what I say. Get Loyal.”

Never had Ella talked to her like that. Frightened, Katie nodded, then ran out the door, not even pausing when another elderly woman reprimanded her for running.

Both of her brothers looked up when she raced out the steps.

“Watch out, Katie,” Graham warned. “If you’re not careful, you’re going to—”

“It’s Ella, Loyal!” she interrupted. “Something’s terribly wrong! She asked me to come get you.”

His face paled. “Is it the baby?”

“I don’t know. She just told me to go get ya. But she does look like she’s hurting something awful.”

Without another word, Loyal raced inside.

Graham dropped the bag of paint supplies he was holding and strode forward, a worried expression on his face. “We better go see if we can help.”

“Uh huh. Ella’s in the stacks. He won’t know where to find her if I don’t show him.”

He gripped her hand. “Lead the way,
glay shveshtah.
Let’s go.” Katie loved it when Graham called her “little sister” in Pennsylvania Dutch. It made her feel like the most important person in the world. Which right now, she was.

W
HEN
J
AYNE SPIED
Loyal, Graham, and Katie Weaver dashing across the main entryway, then calling Ella’s name, she promptly hung up the phone and rushed over to help. The sight she found nearly took her breath away. Her friend was looking pale and scared, and her husband had his arm around her shoulders and was speaking softly to her. “Ella, what can I do?”

Her friend peered through her glasses with wide, frightened eyes. “I fear that the baby’s coming early, Jayne. My water broke.”

“We need to get you to the hospital.”

She was just about to offer to drive them when Connor appeared at the end of the book stack.

“Hey,” he said. “Boy, talk about perfect timing! The moment I walked inside, one of the assistants told me where you all were. I can drive y’all.” He held up his cell phone. “Or would you rather have an ambulance? I can call for one right now.”

“
Nee!
” Ella cried. “I’ll be okay in just a car. But let’s go.”

As Loyal wrapped an arm around Ella’s waist and Graham grabbed her purse, Connor, Jayne, and Katie followed behind.

“Connor, your timing continues to be perfect,” Jayne said. “You really are the perfect guy to have in a crisis.”

“I’m glad I’m here.” He leaned close enough for her to smell his spicy aftershave. “Actually, I only stopped by to see if you wanted to go to dinner tonight.”

“So soon?” she teased.

“I didn’t see you on Sunday, so it’s been two whole days.”

“Practically forever.”

“I can’t seem to stay away from you,” he quipped with a boyish smile.

“I’d love to join you.”

“Great. I’ll stop by when I get back from the hospital.” He smiled, then rushed forward to help Loyal with the door to his truck.

Gazing at Ella, Jayne decided she seemed calmer. Ella was chatting softly to Graham while Loyal was helping her with her cloak.

The men seemed more at ease now, too.

Actually, the one person who looked to be really frightened was Katie. Jayne’s heart softened as she noticed Katie’s eyes had filled with tears and her bottom lip was trembling. After glancing Connor’s way again, Jayne stepped to the little girl’s side. “She’ll be all right, Katie.”

“I hope so.”

As Loyal guided her forward, Ella turned back with a start. “Jayne, I almost forgot to ask. May Katie stay with you for a bit?”

Katie’s shook her head. “
Nee!
I want to come, too.”

“I know you do, but now is not the right time for you to be at the hospital.”

“But—”

As Ella breathed through another contraction, Graham said, “Katie, I promise, if the baby comes soon, I’ll drop back by and pick you up.”

Seeking to distract her, Jayne added, “While we’re waiting, you can help me organize the Christmas books.”

Katie still didn’t look too happy, but she nodded. “All right.”

Jayne rested her hands on Katie’s shoulders as Connor ushered Ella, Loyal, and Graham into the truck. When it was just the two of them left, Katie looked up at her. “Miss D., are you scared for Ella?”

Jayne figured it was best to be honest. “A little bit.”

“Me too.”

“That’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with that. But you know what? It won’t help Ella or her baby if we just stand here and worry.”

“So you think we should go sort books?” Katie asked.

“Yes, and pray for Ella and the baby.”

“Okay,” she began, then looked at Jayne with such a look of worry that it stopped her in her tracks. “Oh, Miss D., I think I’ve really messed up!”

“And why is that?”

“Because I’ve already been praying for something. I’ve been praying all the time for the nativity. Do . . . do you think God still wants to hear from me? Maybe I’ve been asking for too much.”

Truly, only Katie Weaver could make a person chuckle at a time like this. “I am sure God still wants to hear from you. He loves to hear from all of us, all the time, about any topic.”

“Even when I keep asking Him for things?”

“Especially then. Listen, one of my favorite Scripture verses is from Isaiah. It says, ‘
Then when you call, the Lord will answer. “Yes, I am here,” he will quickly reply.
’ ”

Katie’s brows snapped together. “Even to me?”

“Uh huh. Let’s go into my office and have some juice, then we’ll pray, and then we’ll go look at books. Okay?”

When Katie nodded, Jayne gave her a hug. And started praying. Though she didn’t dare tell Katie, she didn’t think Ella looked well at all.

She truly hoped both Ella and the baby were going to be all right.

Chapter Ten

A
T THE HOSPITAL,
Ella felt like she was the eye in the center of a hurricane. All around her, people were busy, poking and prodding her, talking to each other, turning on machines.

She, on the other hand, felt completely still. Perhaps that was because she was still having a difficult time understanding her doctor’s news. Turning to her husband, who was trying both to comfort her and to stay out of everyone’s way, she whispered. “I can’t have this baby today, Loyal. I’m not ready. We’re not ready.”

He chuckled. “I don’t think the baby cares, dear. He or she intends to come into the world now.”

She thought about that as another contraction hit her hard. When the pain eased, she said, “I hope it’s okay.”

“The
doktah
said nothing’s wrong. It’s just the baby’s time, Ella.”

That was true. But she couldn’t help but fret. “Loyal, all this time, I’ve never worried about his health or mine. But maybe something’s wrong? What are we going to do if something is wrong?”

“If something is wrong, there are doctors who will help us. That’s why we decided to come to the hospital, right?”

Nervously, she nodded. After seeing how the doctors and nurses had helped to heal Mattie’s cancer, she and Loyal had opted for a hospital birth instead of a home one. “We will make the best of anything that happens.”

Her husband’s gaze softened as he kissed her brow. “Don’t borrow trouble, Ella. You heard what the
doktah
said—he said everything looks fine.”

“But it’s early—”

“We might have gotten the dates wrong,” he interjected smoothly. “Or maybe our baby intends to be a Christmas baby after all.”

“Who ever heard of a baby being born so close to Christmas Day?”

Loyal’s smile grew. “A fairly famous one.”

“Oh, I know.” She sighed, just as another contraction came. After breathing as the nurses reminded her to do, she said, “It’s just . . . I wasn’t prepared for this!”

“It doesn’t matter, Ella. You’d better get prepared, then.”

She choked back a laugh just as the nurses came back in.

“Time to leave the room for a few minutes, Dad,” a nurse in a pair of pink scrubs said to Loyal. “We need to get your wife more settled.”

For the first time, Loyal looked worried. “But—”

“It will only be a few moments.”

Ella breathed hard and tried to look calm. “I’ll be all right. Ask Graham to go home and tell the family. I’m going to want your mother here right quick.”

“
Jah
.
Jah
, I can do that.” He turned on his heel.

The nurse laughed. “Good for you, Ella. Give your husband things to do. Works every time.”

As the nurse helped her take out the pins on her dress, Ella tried to keep a brave face. She didn’t want to worry Loyal any longer. Surely, the nurses wouldn’t be so cheery if they were worried, too.

But even so, she decided to privately start praying for their baby. Ella knew she could take any kind of pain or discomfort, as long as their baby that they’d wanted so much was healthy.

A
FTER DROPPING OFF
Graham, Loyal, and Ella, Connor stopped back by the library to give Jayne and Katie an update. Just as he was about to walk through the library’s front door, he spied two cans of paint. They were sitting side by side, with a pair of paint brushes laid neatly on top of them. That looked like trouble to him. With all the shenanigans going on with the nativity set, those cans and paintbrushes were practically an invitation for someone to cause more mischief.

He’d just picked up a can of paint when Katie spied him through the front window. Right away, she opened the door. “How’s Ella?”

“The doctors and nurses are taking good care of her. She seems excited about the baby.”

“She’s okay then?”

“Very okay.”

Stepping forward, she pointed to the paint and brushes in his hands. “What are you doing?”

“Picking these things up so no one will use them to get into trouble.”

“Oh, that paint is from my brothers,” she said. “For the stable.”

“The stable?”

“Uh huh.” She pointed to the dwindling nativity set. “They were going to paint the crèche today. To try to make it look better. Even though, you know . . . pretty much everyone has gone missing.”

Connor noticed Katie had lost some of her drive to create the best nativity ever. Instead, she sounded more than a little put out. And that made him a little sad.

Every child should have her innocence for as long as possible, and he hated the thought of her losing hers because of a string of unusual thefts at Christmas.

Though he didn’t have a ton of experience with kids, he gave cheering her up a try. “I’m really sorry that someone keeps taking the figurines. Sometimes, people do things that don’t make any sense, and that’s hard to understand.”

Katie blinked. “What do you do then?”

“Take a deep breath and do my job. I promise, I have been trying to figure out who’s taking them.” It just happened that there were precious few clues—and a whole lot more important things to worry about than a diminishing nativity set.

Her owlish gaze pinned him for a moment, just as if she was trying to read his mind. Then, with a shrug, she sighed. “It’s all right if you don’t figure it out, I guess. I’m beginning to think that my
mamm
was right, anyway. She said I shouldn’t be caring about an old plastic set of Mary and Joseph.”

“I, for one, am glad you do! Why, someone needs to. If a group of plastic figures ever needed a guardian angel, I would say it’s this set.”

“And that’s me?” She looked a little stunned by that. And, perhaps, a little bit proud, too.

“I think so.” He smiled gently. “After all, if not for you, I don’t think anyone would really care all that much. I would have tried to figure out who hurt Mrs. Jensen, then forgot about the nativity here on the library’s lawn.”

“Mamm said that a hurt lady is far more important than a missing plastic lamb.”

“I’d have to agree with her. But my shift ended, so now I have time to worry about both.” Fingering the paintbrush again, he said, “So, where were your brothers going to paint the stable?”

“Right here at the front door. We were going to ask Miss D. when we found out about Ella.” Her bottom lip trembled. “Now Ella’s scared and in the hospital and I have to stay here out of the way.”

“I think they were more concerned with you not sitting in the hospital for the next several hours. They didn’t want you to be bored. Babies can take a while to be born, you know.”

“How do you know?”

Well, Katie Weaver was nothing if not blunt. “Because I have two sisters, and those sisters have had babies.”

“You’re an uncle?”

“Yep. Three times over.” He looked at her proudly. “One niece and two nephews.”

“I’m already an aunt, my brother Calvin already has a baby. But now I’m going to be an aunt of two babies.”

“That’s pretty special.”

Her little chin rose a bit. Then she bit her lip. “So, did everything turn out okay with your sisters?”

“Yep.” He rubbed the back of his neck. Boy, he hadn’t thought about his sisters and the hours he’d kept his phone close while he’d waited to hear about their deliveries for quite a while. This year he hadn’t been able to take any time off his new job, so he’d had to make do with sending packages to his nephews and niece.

Looking at Katie Weaver, he realized just how much he missed them. “You know, I’ve got some time right now. How about we go ahead and paint the stable?”

“You can do that?”

“Well, yeah. You might be surprised about this, but I can do more than just attempt to find thieves. I can paint things, too.”

To his delight, she giggled.

“I’ll get started. Why don’t you go tell Miss D. what we’re doing?”

When she scampered back inside, he carefully walked down the hill and started pulling the wooden structure back up it. The thing was heavier than it looked. By the time he was halfway, he’d tossed his jacket and gloves on the ground and was unzipping his fleece vest.

Two Amish men, their arms laden with books, stopped and watched his progress, their gazes solemn. One with a rather long gray beard looked particularly intrigued. “What are you doing, English? Stripping on the library’s front lawn?”

“Only my jacket and gloves,” he said with a laugh. “Actually, I thought I’d help out Katie Weaver and paint the crèche for her. Her brothers are at the hospital.”

“Oh no. Someone in trouble?”

“Only of the good kind. Ella Weaver’s baby is on the way.”

Both men grinned. “Loyal’s going to be having a time of it, I’m thinking. He’s a calm sort, except when things aren’t going so calmly.”

Connor chuckled. “I’m beginning to get that same idea.”

The younger Amish man stepped forward. “Do you have the paint?”

“Yep, it’s right here. Loyal left it by the door.”

“Want some help?”

The structure wasn’t all that big—maybe six feet tall and four feet wide. It was really just a simple wooden frame. It wouldn’t take more than an hour to paint it.

But that wasn’t the point. Men in the community were reaching out to him. And he was so grateful for their outreach, there was no way he was going to push them away.

“I’d love some help. Thanks.”

And with that, the younger of the two men trotted down the hill, picked up the crèche without as much as a grunt, and easily carried it up the hill. Connor couldn’t help but be impressed. He wasn’t a small man, and he worked out regularly. “Impressive,” he mumbled under his breath.

The older guy heard him. “Farming,” he said. “Bales of hay are heavy. Heavier than they look.”

“I guess so.”

When they parked the crèche in front of the door, Jayne met them with some old newspapers. “Katie just told me what you are doing. She’s so excited about this. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.” Looking at the stack of newspapers in her hands, he asked, “So, are those for us?”

“Yep. Spread them out on the cement, just in case you drip.”

“Thanks. And Jayne?”

“Yes?”

“Are we still on for dinner later?”

“Absolutely, if I’m not still watching Katie.”

“Sounds good.” He couldn’t resist smiling as she turned and walked back inside. Suddenly, he felt warm and happy. Even the chilly temperatures didn’t seem to affect him.

“Stop your mooning, English,” one of the men said.

“Sorry. She, uh, said she’d go out to dinner with me tonight.”

The other men chuckled. “A Christmas romance, hmm?” one said. “There’s only one solution for what ails ya.”

“And what is that?”

“Painting.”

Connor grinned right back, then the three of them got to work. Katie came out, and stood to one side, watching it all with a look of contentment.

Within twenty minutes, however, one would have thought that they were creating a beautiful masterpiece instead of simply painting a wooden frame black. A crowd had formed around them.

People started asking questions about the crèche, about Ella, and about the nativity thief. He answered what he could. Katie—being Katie—fielded most of the questions. She told them how even though she wasn’t supposed to care about the nativity, she did. And that a couple of people had volunteered to fill in for the spots on Christmas Eve.

“Do you need any more help?” one college-aged girl asked.

“
Jah
,” Katie said. “It would be
wunderbaar
to have enough people to stand in for the whole nativity.”

“Will you be wanting real animals, too?”

“If we can get ’em. It’s only right, ain’t so?”

The old man chuckled. “Katie Weaver, sometimes I can only imagine what your father is saying, looking down from heaven.”

Her mouth formed a small O. “Do you think he’d be upset, Mr. Coblentz? My
mamm
says I’m incorrigible, you know.”

“I don’t know if you’re incorrigible or not. But I do think your
daed
would be as proud as punch, Katie. You are doing a
gut
thing, caring about this nativity like you are.”

Somewhat shyly, she tucked her chin to her chest.

As more people volunteered to help out, Connor realized that some organization was needed. “If some of you really do want to help Katie out, we should probably write all this down.”

Then, to his amusement, Jayne got involved, too. She’d been quietly listening from the door of the library.

“I brought out some notepaper. Those who are serious about helping out, come over here, and let me write your name down.”

At least seven people darted her way, just as the men finished painting the crèche.

Then, little by little, everyone went on his way, either back into the library, or down the sidewalks. At last, it was only he, Jayne, and Katie. The sudden silence, combined with the sense of satisfaction he felt from completing a job well-done, made him feel like words were unnecessary.

After a bit, Katie tugged on Jayne’s sweater.

Jayne bent down. “Yes?”

“Are you happier now, Miss D.?” Katie asked.

Straightening up, she sent a Connor a perplexed look. “What are you talking about?”

When Katie motioned for Jayne to bend down again, Connor stepped to one side, to afford them at least the illusion of privacy.

“You know,” Katie hissed into Jayne’s ear—though not very quietly. “Are you happier about your love life?”

Connor didn’t know whether he was more stunned by the question, or amused by the way Katie’s question made Jayne’s fair complexion turn a rosy red.

Jayne straightened abruptly. “Oh my word.”

“Well, are you?” Katie asked.

After a quick glance his way, Jayne nodded. “Um, yes. Now, are you hungry? Because I need to take you down to the Kaffi Haus, and supposedly your uncle John has saved you an apple fritter.”

“He did?”

“Um hum. Someone just called from his coffee shop. Your Uncle John is going to watch you until your mother gets home from the hospital.”

Pure pleasure lit Katie’s cheeks. “I’ll go get my tote bag.”

Jayne chuckled. “Take your time, dear. And don’t forget your coat.”