A Christmas for Katie (8 page)

She’d been wrong.

She’d even asked Ella and her brothers to help her get her way . . . because she was used to getting her way. She was used to being a spoiled girl.

The tears fell harder and her nose started to run, too.

“Ach, Katie, don’t cry, sweetheart.” Onkle John handed her a white handkerchief. “Ella will be all right. The doctors and nurses are helping her. I promise, they are. Even though this hospital seems like a scary place, it’s the best spot for her. Loyal was smart to insist that she have the baby with doctors and nurses nearby.”

“I know.”

“Gott has helped me through some mighty difficult days,” Lucy said, her sweet voice floating through the room like a soothing balm. “He was with me when Timmy was born, and He’ll be here for Ella now, just like He’s been with her all along. Try to remember that, dear.”

“I will.” Katie wanted to say more, but she didn’t dare. Everything she was feeling was so new and scary, she knew she wouldn’t be able to explain it to her uncle in just the right way.

Instead, she brought her feet up on the chair and curved her arms around her knees. Then she tucked in her face, closed her eyes up tight, and started talking to God in earnest.

“I finally understand,” she whispered. “I know now what Christmas is all about. It’s about family and love and Ella being safe. It’s about being happy with what you already gave us. It’s about thinking about what other people want instead of myself. It’s about you, God.”

She hiccupped into her skirts and waited for Him to talk back. But all she felt was her uncle John’s hand on her back, gently rubbing circles around her shoulder blades.

She closed her eyes and kept praying. She prayed as hard as she could, and then when she said everything she could think of, she snuggled closer to her uncle’s side and let herself relax.

There was nothing to do now but wait.

Just as Katie was starting to feel drowsy, leaning into her uncle John, she felt him tense as he dropped the magazine he was reading and sat up straight. “What’s happening?” he asked.

Katie peeked and saw Loyal had come back. His eyes looked tired, and he looked kind of sweaty, too.

She sat up and stared.

When he met her eyes, he curved one hand, motioning her toward him.

She scooted off the chair and walked toward him with shaky knees. To her surprise, the moment she stood right in front of him, he knelt down, kissed her forehead, and then hugged her tight. “You have a niece, Katie,” he said, his voice so happy and pleased that it sounded like melted butter on warm toast.

She pushed out of his embrace. “And Ella?”

“Ella is fine, too.” He rocked back on his heels so he could see her face. Then smiled so bright. “They’re both fine. Better than fine. They’re
wunderbaar
! I promise.”

“I’m glad.”

Behind her, Lucy and Mattie and Graham and Calvin and John were all cheering. “Don’t be shy, Loyal. Tell us the news. How much does she weigh? What’s her name?”

“Our daughter is a perfect seven pounds, four ounces, and twenty inches in length,” he stated. “She has blue eyes and lovely blond, wispy hair. And . . .” he added, with a meaningful look at Katie, “her name is Katherine Weaver.”

Everyone else gasped and then cheered.

Katie smiled, too, but she really only felt relief. Ella was okay. And her baby was, too! God had answered her prayers!

With a creak and a groan, Loyal got to his feet, smiling softly at her all the while. “Katie, you don’t understand why Ella named her baby Katherine, do you?”

She shook her head. Did it even matter?

“She named our little girl after someone special. After a certain Katherine she is mighty fond of. A Katie who she loves very much.”

“She did?” Loyal’s words hardly made sense. Could she really mean so much to Ella? It didn’t seem possible.

Leaning a little bit closer, Loyal said, “Ella named our baby after you, Katie Weaver. The baby is your namesake.”

“I’m that special?”

“Yes,
shveshtah
. You are that special, indeed.”

Katie thought about saying something, but she had no more words in her head. All she could think about was that Ella was okay, and that God loved her so much that He gave her a little girl, a little niece to take care of and play with.

For some reason, the tears came back. But this time, they were happy tears. Giving in to temptation, she wrapped her arms around Loyal and hugged him tight.

With a chuckle, Loyal hugged her right back, just as if he never intended to let her go.

Chapter Twelve

A
FTER MUCH DEBATE,
Connor decided to take Jayne to the Dutch Inn for dinner. They specialized in Amish home cooking, and since the Amish were such a big part of the Geauga County community, he figured they might as well enjoy the specialties of the area.

But though she’d agreed to his choice, he noticed that she barely looked at the menu and didn’t seem to be all that happy to be in the restaurant. He couldn’t understand why—until she told him her reason.

“Last year, I dated an Amish man. It wasn’t really serious, but I really liked him.”

“I didn’t know the Amish dated outsiders.”

“Well, it’s complicated. His name is John Weaver. He’s, uh, Katie’s uncle. He never joined the order. He left when he was eighteen and lived in Indianapolis for twenty years. But then his brother died and he wanted to be there for his brother’s family. When we dated, he didn’t intend to return to his childhood faith. But then he did.”

“Wow. So, he’s still around?” With a bit of a shock, he realized that he was feeling jealous. Mentally, he shook his head. He needed to concentrate on keeping his expression schooled and open. Jayne needed to know that she could trust him to be a good listener.

“Yes. He owns the Kaffi Haus.”

“Wow,” he said again. “I’ve been in there a lot. And I’ve talked to . . . John, though I didn’t know his name. He’s a nice guy.”

“Yes, he is.” Looking a bit miserable, Jayne added, “Not too long after we broke things off, he married an Amish woman. I didn’t mean to feel hurt, but I guess I did.”

“I can understand that.”

“Can you?” Her lips turned up slightly, as if she was pleased by the news. Then she took a sip of water. “So, that’s why I’m not a big fan of Amish cooking,” she said, looking a little flustered. “It’s stupid, but it just seems to remind me of what I didn’t measure up to. Aren’t you glad you asked?”

He noticed that she looked embarrassed. “I’m glad you told me, but I’m sorry if was I asking you too many questions about something you didn’t want to talk about. It’s a bad habit of mine—the nature of the job, I’m afraid.”

She reached out and pressed her hand against his. “Actually, I’m glad we talked about it. Not everyone knows we dated, but enough people do that I’d feel terrible if you found out about it from someone else.”

“Are you okay now?”

“You know what? I think I am. I saw him today. I needed to drop off Katie. What I discovered was that the two of us are okay. We might never be good friends again, but I think enough time has passed for me to go to his coffee shop every now and then.”

“And maybe one day you’ll like broasted chicken. I mean, you don’t have anything against chicken, do you?”

To his delight, she laughed. “Not a single, solitary thing. You’re right, I need to give broasted chicken another try.”

He flipped his hand over so that he could grasp hers more securely. This was nice, talking about their pasts, about things that mattered. Teasing her just enough to make her smile.

Still staring at their linked hands, she murmured, “So, Connor, have you ever been in a situation like mine?”

“Dating an Amish man? Never.”

She chuckled. “Connor, you know what I mean.”

“You’re right, I do,” he replied, turning more serious. “And the answer is no. I mean, not really. The last serious relationship I had ended when I decided to enter the police academy. My girlfriend didn’t want to date a cop.”

“I’m shocked! You’re in such an honorable profession.”

“I think so . . . but being a cop’s wife wasn’t the future she had in mind.” Her rejection still stung, so he covered it up with a grin. “Don’t know why—long hours, little pay . . . me spending my days dealing with drug addicts and criminals . . .”

As he’d hoped, she smiled. “Put that way—”

He shrugged. “The job is hard enough without having no support at home. It all worked out for the best. Some women don’t want to date cops. Not even sheriffs or deputies.”

“I don’t mind it. Actually, I kind of like dating a deputy. Don’t forget, my dad was a cop.” Looking almost shy, she added, “You make me feel safe.”

He squeezed her hand. “I was hoping you’d say that.” He was going to say more when the door opened and Jayne lit right up. “Oh, excuse me, Connor,” she said before she rushed over to the four newcomers.

Connor leaned back in his chair and watched her scurry over, exclaim, then start hugging both women and beaming at the men. Then she pointed at him. He waved.

“Let me introduce you,” she said to her friends, then brought them over. Connor stood up when they approached.

“Connor, this is Lucy and Calvin Weaver, and Mattie and Graham Weaver. Ella is married to Calvin and Graham’s brother.”

He shook hands with them all. “Nice to meet you.”

Jayne smiled. “Ella had a little girl! She’s naming her Katherine after our little Katie.”

He laughed. “That’s wonderful news. Now, Katie I’ve definitely met.”

One of the men shook his head in mock frustration. “Who hasn’t met my little sister? She could run the whole town if she had her mind set on that.”

Jayne shook her head. “She’s not that precocious. Not yet, anyway.”

“Well, congratulations to you all. Would you like to join us? We’re just about to have coffee and pie.”

“
Danke
, but we’re only picking up pies to take home,” Calvin said. “It’s been a long evening.”

When they left, Jayne grinned at him. “I’m so happy everything went well for Ella.”

“Me too.” He was about to say more when his phone beeped, just as his partner, Trey, wandered inside. “Connor, I thought that was your truck outside. Come on, if you can. We got problems.”

He was already reaching into his pocket and pulling out his billfold. “What happened?”

“It’s that darn nativity again.”

Surely Trey hadn’t come to get him because another plastic figure had been stolen? “What happened?”

“Well . . . it seems that another piece has gone missing . . . and was found on the property of Mrs. Jensen.”

“Isn’t she the woman who was injured?” Jayne asked.

“Yep,” Trey answered. “And this little story gets even worse.”

With a sinking feeling, Connor waited for the details. “What happened?”

“Someone came forward and told us that he’d actually seen Mrs. Jensen steal some of the nativity pieces. When we went to her house to ask her about it, she became a little argumentative, which made Jackson decide to walk her inside her home and out of the neighbors’ sight, and that’s when we entered the fun house.” He sighed. “Connor, Sheriff Jackson discovered all kinds of stuff. She’s some kind of kleptomaniac.”

“A klepto?”

“A Christmas klepto. Jackson called me, and we discovered all the pieces. And then some. I guess she’s been stealing Christmas decorations and whatnot for years. Turns out she’s kind of a Christmas hoarder.”

The idea sounded sad and strange and just a bit outlandish, too. “I’ve never heard of such a thing,” Jayne murmured.

“That would be two of us,” Connor added.

Trey shook his head. “Guys, you should have seen her place. It would even put Santa Claus on medication. Her living room looks like a Christmas tree junkyard. I’m surprised she can even walk through the place.”

“What about the figurines? Are they evidence? I’d kind of like them back,” Jayne asked.

“I reckon we’ll be able to give them to you without a problem. But I have to tell you, they’re a little worse for wear.” He wrinkled his nose. “She’s got cats, too. Lots and lots of cats.”

“Oh brother. I’ve got to do something. All I’ve got now is a painted crèche that’s practically empty.”

“You’ve got more than that,” Connor reminded her. “Remember, everyone signed up to participate on Christmas Eve.”

“Jayne, I’m sorry, but I’ve got to steal Connor from you. Currently, Mrs. Jensen is either yelling at our boss or crying. The neighbors have started to gather.”

“I’ll be right there, as soon as I take Jayne home.”

“I’m ready. You’ve got police work to do.”

Five minutes later, when they were in his car, she couldn’t resist teasing him. “I tell you what, Connor. I can now see why that girl you were dating was so upset. You’ve got dangerous Christmas hoarders on the loose.”

For a full thirty seconds he tried not to smile. Then he let go and began laughing. Loud and proud. “It’s not pretty, but I guess someone has to deal with this craziness. Is my job scaring you, Jayne?”

“I should be able to handle things . . . but only if you kiss me good night again . . . and promise to call me later and tell me what happened.”

“I can do both of those things! I promise, your kiss is going to be the best part of the day. And I wouldn’t want to share this story with anyone else.”

Epilogue

Christmas Eve

N
O ONE REALLY
knew how hard it was to be Katie Weaver. Not Miss Donovan, who looked so in love that she hardly stopped making googly eyes at Deputy Fields.

Not Deputy Fields, ’cause even though he’d found all the nativity pieces, he hadn’t found them in time to do much of anything besides deliver them to Miss D. And now they kind of smelled.

Mamm and Ella and Lucy and Mattie and her brothers seemed determined to be interested in only one thing: baby Katherine.

Which meant that making sure that Jacob’s Crossing’s first real live nativity was a success was all up to her.

Luckily, lots of people had volunteered to help her out. Onkle John had brought his wife’s goat. Another farmer brought his donkey. And Mr. Miller had lent them two sheep, He’d even dressed up his kids like shepherds so the sheep didn’t get too out of hand.

“Katie. Where do you want us?” Charlie asked, all dressed up in a white sheet.

“Angels in the back.” She pointed to three other Englishers. “You three kings, come on through and stand over by the goat.”

And so it continued. Old people, young people, animals, and kids all had shown up in various costumes and were willing to listen to her tell them where to go.

Then finally it was all perfect, except for Mary and Jesus. “Where’s the baby?” she asked, bracing herself to see the plastic baby Jesus who’d been sitting in storage forever.

“Here,” she heard a voice behind her.

Ella stood there with her arms outstretched, baby Katherine in her arms.

“Ella, Mamm said you couldn’t come outside! And especially not the baby.”

Ella carefully lifted up Katherine’s covering. “Loyal and I figured the cool air wouldn’t hurt her if we didn’t stay out too long.”

“So, you’ll be Mary and Jesus?”

“Yep.” Ella turned and carefully went to the chair that Loyal had set up next to the manger. Katie watched Loyal help Ella sit down.

Then, Katie stood back. Looking at the pretty picture they’d created. Everyone looked a little silly, dressed up in mismatched costumes, and chattering away to one another.

And her uncle’s goat seemed unable to resist chewing on a wiseman’s flowered bedsheet.

Snow had fallen in the morning, and now a faint breeze lifted the air. Ella and Baby Katherine looked wonderful—even if the baby was a girl and not a boy like Jesus.

A little burst of happiness began to flow through Katie.

All the sudden, a couple of kids gathered in the watching crowd started singing “Silent Night.” Then a couple more joined them. Pretty soon, everyone who was standing around was singing, people young and old, Amish and English.

Except for those in the crèche.

They simply stood. Looking perfect.

Katie’s heart swelled.

Miss D. walked to her side, tears in her eyes. “You did it, Katie. You got everyone together, and we have a beautiful, beautiful nativity. It’s the most wonderful nativity I’ve ever seen.”

With a critical eye, Katie realized that Miss D. was right. Even though most people were only wearing towels and sheets, they looked just right. Even though there were folks of all ages, and some, like Ella, were wearing a kapp, they all fit together.

But what was really the best was that they were all there together. “I think it’s the best, too,” she said, feeling like God was smiling down on them.

“Hey, look!” someone shouted, pointing to the sky.

And sure enough, somehow the breeze had encouraged a couple of clouds to part. Stars had come out. And more than a few looked especially bright.

So bright that they could lead other people to Jacob’s Crossing, maybe.

Feeling like everything was about as perfect as it could be, Katie realized, suddenly, that being Katie Weaver was actually a very good thing.

“Merry Christmas!” Katie Weaver called out. “Merry Christmas, everyone!”

Standing next to her, her mother hugged her close. “Merry Christmas to you, Katie,” she whispered. “And may God bless you. May God bless us all.”