The Caregiver (4 page)

Looking over her shoulder one last time, Katie gave Lucy a little wave, then obediently turned and walked forward. Moments later, they were off the train.

It took Lucy quite some time to backtrack to her seat. After she did, she slipped the handles of her bag over her arm and waited for another break in line.

But the attendant’s voice had gotten more shrill. And whether it was that or the thunderstorm outside, the line of people began to jostle even more. Tension rose in her as she looked from one face to the next.

The moment that she stepped out of the train car, rain pattered against her skin. “Come along,” another train employee called out, his face and voice barely visible under all of his rain gear.

Lucy looked for Calvin and Katie. Surely they were out of the restroom by now? But every time she paused, the man behind almost bumped into her.

The attendant was running out of patience. “Don’t hold up the line,” he called out. “Miss, go straight to the closest bus.”

“I will,” she said politely. “However, I’m just looking for the man I was sitting next to—”

“You’ll see him in Toledo. Board. Now.”

Lucy didn’t see Calvin anywhere. As the rain soaked her skin, and she made the quick jaunt to the bus’s open door, she continually looked around for Calvin and Katie.

No sign of them. Not on her bus. Not anywhere outside.

“Take a seat, please,” the bus driver called out.

There seemed to be only one empty seat. At the back, next to a little five-year-old boy who was holding a teddy bear. Slowly, she sat down next to him.

Seconds later, the front doors to the bus closed and they were off again. Driving through the night toward the lights of Toledo.

All around her were the sights and sounds of irritable, tired, soaked-to-the-skin people.

And Lucy learned that there was, indeed, something far worse than sitting next to the only Amish man on the train. It was sitting on the bus . . . and having him be nowhere in sight.

Chapter 4

C
alvin couldn’t believe he’d lost Lucy. He had watched with dismay when she pulled herself out of the line and backtracked to her seat. He was going to wait for her, but the attendant wanted none of that—and they needed to find a bathroom for Katie.

“Keep forward, sir,” the attendant had cautioned. “Don’t disrupt the process.”

Now, as he sat in the dark and could see faint traces of dawn peeking over the horizon, the bus sped down the highway—and he hoped Lucy was all right and had, indeed, gotten on the other transport to Toledo.

But of course, why wouldn’t she have?

He needed only a second to realize why he was worried. Because she seemed so fragile, that was why. He didn’t know much about what led people to do the things they did, but even he could tell that something had happened in Lucy’s past that made her see the world in a cautious, tentative way.

Right then and there, he vowed to at least help her get to where she was going. That would be the kind thing to do.

Reaching into his backpack, he pulled out the book he’d found and opened up the front cover. “Lucy Troyer” was printed neatly on the inside cover. After slipping it back in his backpack, he amended his vow. He needed to help her get to her destination and give her back her book. Yes, that was the least he could do.

I
t had been years since John Weaver had been on a bus. Almost twenty. Once he’d gotten his driver’s license, he’d sworn to himself that he’d never get on the bus again. Well, not if he could help it.

Smelling the sweet, thick odor of sanitizer mixed with exhaust fumes made him feel sick. Because it all reminded him of his journey from Jacob’s Crossing to Indy—and how scared and awkward he’d been.

Now, as the overhead lights dimmed, and he’d assured himself that his niece and nephew were doing as well as possible, John went back to what had been occupying his mind for the majority of the trip.

The fact that he was finally returning to Jacob’s Crossing.

When he’d left the order at eighteen, he’d been a far different person. His temper had been lightning quick, and the chip he’d carried on his shoulder had been big and unruly. Almost the size of a boulder, he thought wryly.

But he’d felt justified.

His older brother had been the perfect son. He, on the other hand, had been the disappointment.

His parents had made sure to tell him that on a daily basis. “Be more like Jacob,” they’d said. “Try harder.”

They’d never attempted to understand his point of view—that no matter how hard he’d try, he’d never be the paragon that was Jacob.

And so he’d decided to leave.

For months, he’d put aside money and planned his future. But of course, he’d been beyond naïve. All he’d really planned was an escape, not a life.

But now that he was older, he found himself looking back on that confusing time with more than a bit of nostalgia. He’d taken the bus to Indianapolis because living in a different state had felt as daring as other boys might have felt about a journey to Africa or the Middle East. Soon after he arrived, he’d found a room in a rundown boardinghouse and had gotten a job washing dishes in an Italian restaurant.

But surely God had been looking out for him. The people who owned the restaurant were good folks and had taken him under their wing.

And of course, so had their daughter, Angela.

He closed his eyes, preferring to block out the present and focus on the past: Angela had long black hair and dark eyes. She lined those eyes with black eyeliner and wore red lipstick. Her skirts were form-fitting and her manner suggestive—and full of promises he’d only dreamed about. From the moment he’d met her, he was toast. She’d smile and flirt and was loud and loving and everything he’d never known before.

Barely a year later, they’d married.

Unable to stop himself, he recalled their first months together. He’d lived in a haze of newlywed bliss. Food hardly mattered to him. Actually, not much had mattered to him except her lips, he realized with some embarrassment.

During those days, he’d pushed away all thoughts about his past and his family. Concentrated on being a husband and provider. Ironically, he’d concentrated on being the kind of man his parents would have been proud of. The kind of man Jacob was.

And he’d thought he’d succeeded—until he found Angela with another man.

John’s eyes popped open. Remembering his dismay. Their arguments. Angela’s disdain of his “country” ideals.

The humiliation of knowing that he was the first person in his family to ever divorce.

And that’s when he also realized that everything his parents said had been true. He wasn’t good enough, and he never would be.

That pain felt as fresh as ever. Even now, almost twenty years later. Which showed him that even after all this time, he was still the same confused boy he’d always been.

Here he was, going back to Jacob’s Crossing—and he didn’t have a clue about what he was going to do there.

Chapter 5

T
he Toledo train station was overflowing with emergency personnel, bus managers, and dozens of tired, cranky people.

As soon as Lucy exited the bus, she looked for Calvin and Katie. Even their uncle. But instead of seeing Calvin’s black hat or hearing Katie’s constant chatter, all she saw was a sea of
Englischers
. Taken off guard, she froze.

“Go to your right, miss.” A uniformed man pointed impatiently. “You’re holding up the line. We don’t have all day.”

“Sorry,” Lucy murmured as she walked in the direction he indicated, but still craned her neck, hoping against hope that she would suddenly spot Calvin and his sister. But no matter how hard she looked, they were not to be found.

She chewed on her bottom lip as her line inched forward. Conversations spun in the air around her, but she paid them no mind. Instead, all she was able to think about was how disappointed she was not to see any of the Weavers.

Well, if she was being honest with herself, Lucy knew she wasn’t looking for all the Weavers. Though Katie was an adorable child and his uncle seemed terribly kind, Lucy was upset not to see Calvin. She felt his absence like a physical thing, like he’d taken her coat and she now felt the rain and cold all the more.

She couldn’t understand why. She usually did everything she could to stay away from contact with men. Until she’d met Calvin, she would have never guessed she would actually enjoy another man’s company.

Lucy shook her head, trying to snap out of it. Again a uniformed man directed her to another line, this one in front of a ticket booth. “How will I board my train to Cleveland?” she asked. “What time does it leave?”

He rolled his eyes. “It depends which train we can get you on.”

“But—”

“Do you still have your original ticket?” he snapped.

His rude tone rattled her. Hastily, Lucy opened her bag. “
Jah
. It’s right—”

“I don’t need to see it this minute,” he interrupted. “Just show it to the agent at the ticket window and she’ll get you on the next available train out of here.”

“The one going to Cleveland?” Really, she couldn’t understand his directions. Or why he insisted on speaking so fast . . .

“Yes.”

“Oh. All right, then. Thank you.” She tried to smile, but the gesture, like her words, seemed to be a waste. The man had already started barking orders at the person behind her.

Strangers pushed ahead, their belongings jostling her, making her feel even more ill at ease. Her hair and
kapp
were still damp, and she felt exposed standing by herself. Inch by inch, her line moved. She hitched her quilt bag up higher on her shoulder and stepped forward. All of a sudden, she felt overly warm in her wool cloak.

The station was hot and humid. Though thunder and lightning weren’t flashing anymore, a light rain still pattered the windows. Moisture permeated the lobby. The light musty smell of mildew and damp clothes made her sneeze.

After a moment, she stepped forward again. Shifting her quilt bag so she could open it, Lucy reached in and checked for her wallet.

But instead of having to shuffle through the contents of the bag like she usually did, it seemed rather empty. She sighed in relief when she found her wallet.

But then Lucy’s stomach knotted.

Her diary was missing. Inside the leather cover, she’d scrawled pages and pages of her innermost feelings. All her anger and fear and worries. And now it was in someone else’s hands—just waiting to be opened and read.

Her words, bare and exposed. Penned for anyone to see.

C
alvin bit back a burst of frustration as he left the makeshift nurses’ station in the back of the terminal. No matter how hard he’d argued, the train personnel hadn’t allowed him to do anything but get examined by the nurse the moment he’d gotten off the bus.

“It’s policy, sir,” a representative from the train had said while he took Calvin’s name and address. “I’m sure you understand. We don’t want to get sued.”

Sued? He didn’t understand that reasoning at all. “I don’t want to sue anyone. I just want to be on my way.”

“In due time. Go take a seat.”

After telling John that they’d meet up with him when he was finished, Calvin took Katie’s hand and led her to the small grouping of chairs.

After twenty minutes, he was called over to a curtained area, Katie in tow.

“Your forehead needs stitches,” the nurse murmured after she cleaned his wound.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive, Mr. Weaver,” she said briskly, looking at his form. “Now close your eyes, and I’ll try to make this as painless and quick as possible.”

Beside him, Katie hopped to her feet and inched closer.

“Katie, this might make you squeamish. Why don’t you go back to our chairs?”

“Nuh-uh. I’m standing here. I want to see the nurse sew you up.”

“I guess this is exciting, ain’t it?” he asked, sharing a grin with the nurse.

“Loyal and Graham are gonna be jealous,” she said.

“And who are they?” the nurse asked kindly as she gave him a shot.

“They’re my other big brothers,” Katie answered. “I’ve got three of them. And an uncle, too.”

The nurse shared a smile with Calvin as she pulled on latex gloves. “I’ll make the stitches as small as possible, Mr. Weaver.”

“Makes no difference to me,” he said. “My nose is already crooked.”

“Calvin broke his nose four years ago,” Katie explained helpfully.

“Hush, child,” he said as the nurse began to stitch.

Amazingly, Katie stayed quiet and still beside him. Only slipping her hand into his as the nurse got to work.

“You might want to get an X-ray for your swollen wrist when you get home,” the nurse said when she finished and pulled off her gloves. “I don’t think it’s more than a minor sprain, but sometimes you just can’t be sure.”

“If it gets worse, I’ll do that,” he promised.

“And keep the stitches clean. They can be removed in about a week.”

He was already guiding Katie toward the door. “All right.”

“And Mr. Weaver . . .”

Impatiently, he looked at the nurse. “Yes?”

“I hope you get home soon,” she said with a smile.

Her good wishes embarrassed him. “Thank you,” he said. “And I thank you for your assistance as well.”

The nurse beamed. “You’re welcome. Send the next person over on your way out, please.”

Calvin told the teenager sitting by the door to go back, then entered the wide-open space of the terminal. Immediately, he was besieged by noise. “Hold my hand again, Katie.”

Staring at the throng of people, Katie slipped her hand in his without a word.

At least two hundred people were in the enclosure. Some milled around, others were standing in long lines. Instead of being irritated by the crowd, he was relieved. If there were this many people, Lucy had to be around somewhere. “Let’s look for Uncle John now.”

Katie nodded. “And Lucy, too.”

“Yes, and Lucy, too, of course,” he replied.

On a mission, Calvin practically stomped to the closest line of people and began to scan faces for John or Lucy. They located John easily.

“Might as well cool your heels for a bit,” John said when they got to his side. “Things are a disorganized mess. We’re sure to be here for a while.”

But Calvin knew he wasn’t going to be able to do anything until he located Lucy. “Katie, stay here, wouldja? I’m going to go look for Lucy.” Quickly, he turned away before she could even think about arguing.

Walking along the second line, Calvin searched the faces. Some people met his gaze, others were only looking directly forward. Then he saw her. There, near the front, was a terribly innocent-looking Amish woman, standing straight and as tall as her small frame would allow.

Her cheeks were pale and her light golden eyes looked luminescent as she stared around with obvious distress. He waved as he marched up to her. “Lucy.”

Immediately she turned in his direction, and her worried expression eased. “Calvin. Praise God! I was beginning to think I would never see you again.”

“They made me get seen by the nurse. ”

She pointed to his head. “I see you did need stitches.”

“Indeed I did.” He smiled, so glad they had connected again.

A woman behind Lucy glared at him. “You’re not going to cut in line are you?”

“No. I’m just talking to my friend.”

“Talk to her later,” she said. “You’re slowing down the line.”

Calvin didn’t think that was the case, but he was in no hurry to argue. “Lucy, John and Katie are waiting in the seating area. Will you look for us when you get done?”

She looked at the woman behind her, then at him. After a second’s pause, she picked up her quilt bag and stepped out of line. “I’ll take my place at the back with you. Now that I found you, I don’t want to be alone.”

As she heard her words out loud, her eyes widened in obvious embarrassment. “I . . . I mean, I’d rather not stand by myself here in the terminal if I don’t have to,” she added in a rush, practically stumbling over her words. “Since, you know, we are all traveling to Cleveland.”

“I knew what you meant. I feel the same way,” he murmured. And realized right then and there that he meant
every
word he said.

T
wenty minutes later, Calvin left the ticket agent’s booth feeling no more at ease than he had since the power had gone off in the train. His patience was certainly wearing thin.

But just as he was ready to share his frustration with Lucy, he noticed the lines of worry etched on her forehead. She was already stressed enough. He didn’t need to add to that by complaining. It was time to get a new attitude, and fast.

Calvin resolved to try to help Lucy. Surely it was the least he could do . . . he hated the thought of someone hurting her. Of treating her tender feelings roughly.

Of stamping out the thread of spunk that he had a good feeling lurked within her.

“I can’t believe our next train doesn’t leave for six more hours,” he said as he joined their small group.

“When the ticket agent told me the time, I questioned her as well,” John said. “But lots of the trains are full. This was the first available. ”

Pure dismay crossed Lucy’s features. “We seem to be destined to run into troubles.”

“It does seem that way.” With a weary smile, he said, “Once again, I suppose we should make the best of things. There has to be a reason all this is happening.”

Looking around the train depot, which was little more than a large room with a few ticket windows and an area to await the trains, Lucy frowned. “I wonder what I should do.”

He latched on to that pronoun. “Do you wish to be on your own now?”

“No. I mean, I like keeping company with you all. If you don’t mind me tagging along.” She nibbled her bottom lip. “Or perhaps you three have other things to do?”

“I don’t.” Teasing, he crossed his arms and looked at his sister. “Katie, do you?”

She giggled as she swung her legs and shook her head. “Nope.”

John held up a book. “I do. I’m happy to sit here and read or maybe get on my laptop. But you three feel free to explore the city.”

Unable to stop himself, he reached out and patted her arm. “Lucy, I’m afraid you’re stuck with us.” Holding out three vouchers, he handed Lucy one. “I almost forgot—we did receive these, and found out that they’re offering special sit-down meals at the restaurant across the way. The attendant told me the food was actually pretty tasty. How about we go eat there and decide what to do?”

Katie’s smile grew a mile wide. “I want to do that. I’m really hungry.”

Getting to her feet, Lucy chuckled. “Somehow I thought you might say that.”

As they started walking, Calvin couldn’t help but glance Lucy’s way. Before his eyes, her icy persona had warmed to true friendliness—especially when she was talking to his chatty, outspoken sister.

He felt like she was even beginning to let down her guard around him. Was she finally warming up to him? He wondered again why she was so skittish from the start. Was she simply shy around men—or had another man hurt her badly?

That was something he intended to find out.