The Caregiver (9 page)

Chapter 13

J
ohn held out his hands to prevent the woman from knocking straight into him. “Hey,” he said. “Look out, now.”

His touch startled her. With a frown, she froze, and finally looked up from her cell phone.

And that’s when he noticed her eyes were . . . violet? Who had violet eyes?

“Oh my gosh! Did I just walk right into you? I’m so sorry.”

Her voice was musical. Slightly southern sounding. His mouth went dry. But because he was way too old for such nonsense, he dropped his hands and stepped a good three steps backward. “It’s all right. I just didn’t want you to get hurt.” When she blinked at him and smiled slightly, he shook himself and tried to sound reasonable. Not smitten. “I mean, you probably shouldn’t text and walk. At the same time. You’re liable to run into someone.”

Great, now he couldn’t even form complete sentences.

Closing her phone, she shook her head in obvious frustration. With the motion, her short hair, as brown as a Hershey bar, shifted and flickered in the sunlight. Catching his attention. “This thing. My niece keeps trying to teach me how to use that predictive text. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t do it right.”

“It takes some practice.”

Gazing at him with wide eyes, she asked, “Do you know how to do it?”

“Ah, not well enough to teach you.”

“Oh. That’s really too bad.”

Yes
. It
was
too bad. He was attracted to her and didn’t have a single reason to keep the conversation going. But he could try. Holding out his hand, he introduced himself. “I’m John Weaver.”

“Jayne Donovan.” She smiled, revealing beautiful white teeth. The perfect match to her beautiful eyes. Her hand was slim and cool in his.

He stopped himself from rubbing his thumb over her smooth skin.

Oh, brother. John felt his cheeks heat. “I just moved here.”

“Why?”

Who asked questions like that? “I once lived here. I decided to come back.” Yep, that was definitely the short answer.

“Going home again, huh?”

“No. Well, maybe.” How did he explain how it felt to be living in his childhood home? To be back in an Amish home . . . and though he loved his sister-in-law and her family dearly, he knew, without a doubt, that in time he would have to get out of there.

She smiled again. This time, he noticed lines around her eyes and mouth. She was older than he’d thought.

And then he caught himself again. “I should probably get going.”

“All right.” She bit her bottom lip. “And . . . John?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry I almost ran into you. I should have been paying more attention.”

“Hey, if you hadn’t, we wouldn’t have met.” Mentally, he rolled his eyes. Could he sound any cheesier if he tried?

“I work at the library, if you ever need a book.”

She turned and walked away before he could process that. No, Jayne Donovan walked away before
he
could think of anything else to say.

And he couldn’t help standing there for a moment and watching her walk.

“Move along now, son,” a man said, passing him. “You’re making a spectacle of yourself, standing and gawking like you are.”

Embarrassed, John darted into the first place of business he could find—a somewhat down-on-its-luck donut shop.

A man who looked to be seventy years old stood behind the counter, eyeing him with interest as he approached. “Can I help you?”

John didn’t really want anything, but he was obligated to get something. “How fresh is your coffee?”

“Fresh.” The man glared at him—almost looking like he’d love for John to pick a fight.

“I’ll have a cup of coffee and one of those glazed donuts.”

“Three dollars.”

As John pulled out three singles, he looked the old guy over. The man was only a few inches over five feet. He had a stooped posture and dark eyes and was almost bald. “Thanks,” he said when the man handed him a cardboard cup and donut in a white sack.

“You new here in town?”

“I am, more or less. I’m moving back.”

“You look just like Jacob Weaver.”

“That’s because I’m his brother.”

Something flickered in the old guy’s eyes. After a moment’s hesitation, he walked around the bakery case and gestured to a table. “Have a seat.”

The man looked a little too intent. “Thanks, but I’ve got to get going . . .”

“Where?” Before John could make up something, the man pointed one bony finger at the table again. “Have a seat. We’ll catch up.”

This time John sat. “Do I know you?”

“I don’t know. But I sure knew your father.” After a pause, he held out a hand. “Name’s Amos House.”

“House?”

Amos winked as he sat. “Yep, just like a home, but not. Now, tell me what you’ve been doing for so long.”

Fingers curved around the cup of coffee, John started talking. And before he knew it, he felt completely at ease for pretty much the first time since he’d returned to Jacob’s Crossing.

O
nce every few weeks, Calvin or one of his brothers took their mother to the Wal-Mart in Middlefield. No matter whose turn it was, the chore was always looked upon as a labor of love.

Their mother loved Wal-Mart. Her eyes positively lit up at the sight of the giant store.

Because of that—and because she’d always been so eager to make her children happy—they made sure one of them was always available to take her there.

Calvin jingled Beauty’s reins as their sturdy horse plodded along the back roads to the supercenter. Beside him, his mother was continuing her efforts to fill him in on everything he’d missed while he was in Indiana.

“So, on Sunday, we had church at the Yoders’, and it was a
verra
fine service,” his mother said. “And you should see their new barn! It is a fair sight to see.”

“It’s made of metal, ain’t so?”

“It is, indeed. And so very sparkling and new. They put windows high in the ceiling, too. As we prayed, it felt as if rays of sunlight beamed right down on us, lighting our way. Oh, Calvin. I wish you could have been there.”

“I’ll be there next time they host.”

“I hope so.” She worried her bottom lip. “Or maybe you should take a look at it sooner than later. That barn was really pretty, Calvin. I was most impressed with it, actually. If we had the need for a new barn, I would tell you boys to build it like the Yoders’.”

“We don’t have that need,” he said quickly before she could warm up to the subject. Their mother loved new things, new gadgets, new anything.

“Oh, I know. I’m just saying . . . if we did need a new barn—”

“Which we do not—”

“I would want one just like the Yoders’.”

Calvin looked at his mother fondly. Of his two parents, she’d always been the more adventurous one. Unlike his father, who had enjoyed a peaceful and steady way of life, his mother yearned for all things new. She found excitement in almost everything. Even now he was amazed at how well she did as a widow. Though she missed his father terribly, he never witnessed her looking at the world through a disappointed haze. Instead, she seemed determined to make each day count.

As he should, too, he realized with some dismay. For the weeks before his trip, he’d hardly been aware of anything besides his own heartbreak.

But the trip home had changed his perspective. “I’ll go to the Yoders’ soon and give it a look.”

“I hope you will. They will be happy to see you, I am sure. Why, Corrine and Thomas both asked about you during lunch.”

“That was kind of them.”

“Oh, they were just worried, on account of your moping. Thomas, especially, was worried you were taking Gwen’s rejection of you awfully hard.”

Leave it to his mother to put things as plainly as possible. “I’m thankful for their concern.”

As they approached a traffic light, Calvin reined in Beauty and watched for oncoming traffic. When the light turned green, he pulled out and turned left. Just a few hundred yards up ahead, the bright blue-and-white sign for the Wal-Mart loomed. “We’re almost at the store,” he murmured. “Here’s the Arby’s and the KFC.”

“One day we should try out those places.” Craning forward, she pointed to the area off to the left of the store, where all the buggies were hitched, some in the tan enclosure built specifically for the horses and buggies. “Look, Calvin. There’s a fair amount of folks already here.”

“It will be a crowded shopping day, to be sure.”

“Oh,
jah
! It will be a mighty good time to visit with friends.”

Calvin grinned. Yet again, his mother had taken his comment and turned it upside down. “Do you have a list today, or are you just going to explore?” he teased. It had become something of a family joke to tease their mother about her behavior when the store had held the opening celebration.

While their father had wanted nothing to do with the opening of the gargantuan place, their mother had counted the days. Calvin and Graham had ended up taking her to the store on Grand Opening Day. They’d dealt with the crowds and the noise for more than two hours while their mother carefully inspected every aisle . . . and tried all the free food samples.

Time and again, they’d lost sight of her as she’d darted off to inspect new gadgets and cleaning products, and smiled at the blocks of ice in the freezer section—all while pushing her metal cart up and down the aisles with the resolve of an explorer of old.

Now, though quite some time had passed, she still blushed. “Oh, Calvin. Will you ever let me forget that day?”

“I’m sure I will . . . one day.” After they shared a smile, he asked, “Do you have a lot to shop for?”

“I do have a list,” she said primly. “But . . . I will probably look around for a little while, too.”

Calvin wisely said nothing about that. After guiding Beauty to one of the many hitching posts, he set the brake and helped his mother hop down. Then, after a few minutes of taking care of the horse, they walked toward one of the main entrances.

“I’ll meet you here in a bit,” his mother said as she selected a grocery cart, her eyes already jumping from one brightly organized display to the next.

“Take your time, Mamm,” he murmured as he tried to get acclimated to the fresh burst of air-conditioning, the bright lights, and the amazing amount of colors and noises surrounding them.

Over to the side, near the fabric section, Calvin recognized some of his mother’s dear friends. One of them was waving her over, and she was scurrying toward them like it had been weeks since they’d seen each other instead of just days.

Calvin hid a smile as one of them held up a flyer advertising all the store’s specials.

Yes, today was going to be another lengthy trip.

He waved to her friends, then darted off in the opposite direction, on the off chance that they would try to circle him in. The last thing he wanted was to hear the latest gossip about Gwen and Will. After he passed two aisles of sporting goods, he spied a display of fishing lures. Looking at them was as good an activity as any to pass the time.

And then he spied her. On the other side of a paper towel display. In the pet-food aisle.

Calvin dropped the box of fishing lures he was holding and craned his neck, squinting a bit, just to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him.

But as her head lifted and he caught the angle of her fine jaw, Calvin knew there was no mistake at all.

Right there, standing a mere ten feet away, in the middle of the biggest Wal-Mart Supercenter in the region . . . was Lucy Troyer. His heart thumped as he recalled their argument. And the cool way she’d treated him after.

But overriding all of that was the guilt he felt—he’d never given her back her diary. He definitely should have done that.

Of course, he should have never opened it. Or read portions of what was inside. Or stewed on it.

Or even—perhaps just a little—judged her for what she wrote.

Yes, he had already done much to feel guilty about. Until he got his feelings and emotions under control, Calvin knew the right thing to do would be to walk away from her. Pretend their paths hadn’t crossed.

Pretend he’d never seen her.

But the pull he felt toward her prevented all of that. No, he could no more ignore her than he could walk away from the store without his mother. It wasn’t who he was. With that in mind, he called out to her and hoped for the best.

“Lucy!”

Lucy abruptly turned to whoever was calling her name. “Calvin? My goodness. I’m shocked to see you! Whatever are you doing here?”

“I was going to ask you that same thing,” he said, sauntering over.

Warring emotions flowed through her as he approached. She was so glad to see Calvin—but afraid to talk with him. She recalled his temper. And her lack of willingness to listen to his apology.