Authors: Shelley Shepard Gray
The Protector (9 page)
T
he sky was turning dark and the stars were coming out when Loyal took her home. As the buggy clip-clopped along the paved roads, a faint breeze fanned Ella’s face. Now that it was mid-August, the breeze was tinged with a pinch of cold.
Oh, she was so ready for the change of season.
As Loyal parked the buggy in front of her home, his horse pranced a bit. “Beauty, settle now,” he said.
Ella looked at his gelding and couldn’t help but smile. “Unlike me, that
gaul
still has got energy to spare.”
Loyal chuckled. “
Nah
. This is just his way of telling me that he’s had enough walking for the day. He’s a lazy horse and an early-to-bed kind of man. Here it is, almost nine. He’s ready to be settled for the night. Once he gets in his stall at home, he’ll be as docile as a lamb.”
Stepping out of the buggy, Ella stretched her arms to her side. “I might have more in common with Beauty than I thought. I’m an early-to-bed kind of woman.”
Loyal followed her out, shaking one of his legs as though he was hoping to restore its circulation. “Most likely, we all are.”
As he stood next to her, Ella became even more aware of his size and proximity. She was tall, but he was at least four inches taller. Most likely a little over six feet. His posture was as relaxed and easy as ever; his muscular frame as solid and sturdy. Next to him, she felt comfortable and almost petite.
Once again, their eyes met, and the sweet link that had formed between them grew warmer. Little by little, her cheeks heated. Ella hoped the fading light hid rather than accentuated her blooming color. “I had a wonderful-
gut
time tonight,” she said formally. “And the house—it looks good.”
His gaze warmed. “I’m glad seeing it didn’t make you melancholy.”
“I had thought it might, but instead it just reminds me of all the work there was to do,” she replied, meaning every word. “The floors look nice, and the painted kitchen does, too. It was kind of you to show it to me.”
“I’m glad you came.” Waving her forward, he said, “I’ll walk you inside.”
Now that the last of the sunlight had faded into the horizon, it seemed as if there was no one around but the two of them.
And perhaps there wasn’t, she reflected, almost dreamily. Perhaps they were the only two people on the sidewalk in Jacob’s Crossing. The last two people reluctant to say good night.
Oh, but she was such a silly old maid, dreaming such things. “There’s no need,” she said in a rush. “I’ll be fine.”
“It’s dark out and you’re here in the middle of town . . .” He frowned. “Perhaps I should walk with you through your apartment? Just to make sure everything there is as it should be?”
“It’s what I need to get used to, yes? I’ll be fine.”
Hurriedly, she strode to the steps and stepped up the first two. Just to illustrate her point. “
Gut nacht,
Loyal.”
His gaze skimmed over her face.
“Gut nacht,”
he echoed, then turned and got back into the buggy.
She watched him until he picked up the reins, then turned and quickly climbed the last three steps and unlocked her door.
As Beauty’s hooves faded into the distance, Ella felt a shiver of foreboding and wished for a moment that she hadn’t tried to act so brave.
Truthfully, it was terribly dark inside. She left the door open as she crossed to the table next to her reading chair and lit the kerosene light. It was probably her imagination, but her footsteps seemed overly loud.
As the soft, golden glow illuminated the room, Ella closed the door and locked it.
No windows were open, of course. The room was stuffy and too warm. Perspiration ran in a trickle down her back, making the fabric of her dress stick to her skin like glue. Eager to feel cooler, she opened the front window a good four inches, then walked to her bedroom and opened the two windows there even wider. Instantly a fresh breeze fluttered the plain white curtains and fanned her face.
Next she sat on the edge of her bed and carefully removed her black bonnet, then removed her shoes and stockings. Ah, freedom! Giving into temptation, she flopped backward on the bed, just enjoying the sensation of the cool breezes floating across her skin and the delicious feeling of wiggling bare toes that had been confined in black stockings and shoes for too many hours.
A yawn encouraged her to hop up and begin her nightly chores.
She walked back to the kitchen, eager to make tea. The feel of the planks of wood under her feet made her think of Loyal’s hard work. Her old house really would look far better, now that the old musty carpet was gone.
To her surprise, while there, she hadn’t felt any of resentment or loss, the kind she had been sure she would experience when leaving the farm. Instead, she’d felt only a mild interest, and later was filled with a hint of excitement as she noticed Loyal’s excitement.
Katie’s and Graham’s presence had helped, too. Katie’s happiness to visit with her was flattering, Graham’s steady humor had made any uncomfortable sensations she might have felt fall by the wayside.
They’d created a nice buffer between her and Loyal, too. She didn’t feel as much pressure to say the right things when they were around.
She hadn’t been away long enough to forget how much work everything had been. When she’d looked at the garden, Ella only thought about how tired and sore she’d been when it had been time to weed, harvest, and can nature’s bounty.
She now noticed how the barn and fencing desperately needed a new coat of paint, that the kitchen sink needed a new faucet; and recalled that windows in the front room always stuck.
In contrast, here everything worked fine. And because of its size, she could now make a cup of hot tea, take a quick shower, and then enjoy some time with her nose in a book before going to sleep.
Still turning over the night’s events in her mind, Ella filled her kettle and lit a burner. As the water heated, a note on the counter caught her attention.
A prickle of unease skittered down her spine. She didn’t recall putting anything there. Crossing the small area, she picked it up and realized it was a neatly folded sheet of notebook paper. Warily, she unfolded the paper, still doing her best to remember when she might have set the paper there.
Trying still to recall when she would have written anything on the paper or from where she would have picked it up, she realized that, but of course, she hadn’t done either. She didn’t write herself notes and didn’t leave important papers scattered on the kitchen counters.
As she smoothed the creases from the page and noticed the handwriting, the paper’s appearance all made sense.
It made sense, but it certainly didn’t alleviate her worries. No, if anything, solving the mystery only served to increase the tension in her body.
For some reason, Dorothy had come into her apartment and placed the note there. That very evening.
As the kettle whistled, Ella removed the pot from the burner and poured the water into her awaiting cup. Immediately, the soothing tang of chamomile wafted upward. She added a pinch of sugar, then took the mug and the letter to her favorite chair.
All of a sudden, hot tea and the familiar comfort of her favorite chair felt like lifelines. Shifting a bit, she tucked her feet up under her thighs, struggling to ward off the sudden chill she felt.
After a day of being too warm and complaining about the humidity and heat, now she felt chilled to the bone.
Focusing her eyes, she read the page.
Ella. I feel I should let you know it is now after eight. You really should be home by now. Once more, you shouldn’t have gone anywhere with Loyal Weaver.
He is not to be trusted. And if you trust him, I will be disappointed in you.
Ella, if you’re not careful, your reputation will get ruined, and I’ll be forced to ask you to leave. Don’t make me do that.
Because no matter how badly you treat me, I will always be there for you. I put your half of our dinner in your refrigerator. I hope you will enjoy it.
Tonight, when you say your prayers, I hope you’ll ask for forgiveness. The way you’re treating me is shameful. After all, I am the only one who has always been your friend. I’m the only one who will stay your friend, long after everyone else moves on and leaves you.
You should remember that.
With a shaking hand, Ella put the note down. Shock and anger mixed inside of her. As soon as possible, she was going to need to talk with Dorothy. Her friend must have completely misunderstood Ella’s intentions when she’d moved to the duplex.
Surely, as soon as they discussed everything and cleared the air, things would be just fine between them. After all, they had to be. Where else could she go?
M
attie couldn’t deny how ugly she felt. It had been terribly difficult to have no hair, and even harder to get used to the fuzz that now covered her scalp.
And harder still to accept her looks and go out in public this way. Though she’d never been especially shy, she didn’t like how different she looked, and how those differences caused others to look at her curiously.
It was far easier to stay home, away from strangers’ eyes. Away even from the concerned expressions of the folks in her community.
However, during one of her last visits to the hospital, a social worker talked to her about her feelings.
“You have a choice, Mattie,” she’d said. “You can either hide until you are perfect again, or face the facts that none of us are that way and move on.”
The lady’s matter-of-fact tone had grated on her nerves. “You think it’s that easy?” she’d asked.
“I know it’s not that easy at all,” the counselor replied. “I think facing the world as a cancer survivor might be one of the hardest things a person ever has to do. But I have to tell you that many a man and woman have told me that only staring at four walls inside a house can be difficult, too.” With a shooing motion, she added, “You can’t hide what the drugs did to you, dear. So you might as well embrace the side effects, yes?”
“I don’t know—”
“Give it a try, and then come back next week and talk to me.”
“You wouldn’t mind?”
“Not at all. We’re a full-service hospital here. Go, and then report back to me.”
Bolstered by the woman’s encouragement, Mattie decided to ask Corrine to be by her side for her first outing. Corrine was easy to be with and took things in stride.
When Corrine suggested they go to the Kaffi Haus, Mattie readily agreed. Loyal’s Uncle John owned the shop and so it seemed like a safe place to go.
W
hen Mattie got to the corner of Jacob’s Crossing’s square, Corrine was waiting for her. “I’m so glad we’re first going to the donut shop,” Mattie said. “I don’t get enough of a chance to come over here. Nothing sounded good while I was getting treatments. Now I seem to be eating double the amount I used to.”
“You’re still too skinny.” Corrine linked Mattie’s hand through her elbow. “We’ll have to do this all the time. Of course, then I’ll get fat.”
Mattie looked over Corrine’s frame and shook her head. “You’re perfect the way you are, Corrine. I wouldn’t want you any other way.”
As their walk continued, Mattie slowly felt the muscles in her shoulders relax, and little by little she lifted her chin a bit.
Things even got easier when they entered John Weaver’s Kaffi Haus and an impromptu cheer rang out.
“Mattie Lapp! Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
Mattie walked over and hugged Mrs. Miller. “It’s
gut
to see you as well.”
“And how are you feeling?”
“Better.” She faltered for something more to say but drew a blank. This was becoming a common occurrence. Her brain and body felt muddled—perhaps it was a side effect from the medicines?
“I’m practically starving,” Corrine said, grabbing Mattie’s arm and pulling her forward. “Let’s eat.”
Once they were sitting down, sipping coffee, and enjoying two jelly-filled pastries, Corrine lowered her voice. “So, how are you doing, really?”
Though she still felt like she was deep in the middle of a void, Mattie shrugged. “I’m doing better. I mean, better than I was,” she amended.
“That good, hmm?”
“There’s no need for sarcasm, Corrine. Some days are better than ever. Some days are worse.”
“That’s a shame.”
“It is. But it’s also the truth. I’ll take that.”
“Well, yes. I suppose the truth is all we can ask for.” She paused, making Mattie anxious. The last thing she wanted to do was face another round of questions about her health. She didn’t mind talking about herself, but surely there was more to her than her cancer?
After finishing off her lemon donut, Corrine sighed dramatically, even going so far as to stretch her hands out in front of her. “Mattie Lapp, I’m ashamed of you.”
“Why?”
“We’ve spent all this time together, and not once have you asked me about my garden.”
“How could I have forgotten? What is new?”
“A lot.” Leaning forward, her face became even more animated. “Have I told you about the battle I’ve waged between a pair of rabbits and my strawberries?”
“You have not. What is going on?”
“A pair of rabbits have taken to eating all my berries.”
“That’s to be expected . . .”
“Perhaps. But what is not expected is that they’re eating just one bite of each!”
That startled a laugh from Mattie. “Corrine, surely not.”
She held up her hand. “It’s the truth. I promise it is. And it’s enough to make me cry, I tell you that.”
“So what have you been doing?”
“They come at twilight, so Peter and I have been waiting for them and then scaring them off!”
“Corrine. Set a trap.”
“We tried that, but they got away. They’re wily rabbits, I tell ya.”
Mattie’s eyes started tearing up, she was laughing so hard. “Never say that you and Peter have nothing to do at night.” After a pause, Corrine started laughing, too.
They were giggling so much, they almost missed the next arrivals: Jenna Yoder, followed by Loyal Weaver.
While Loyal merely acknowledged them, then went to go sit at the counter with the other men, Jenna smiled their way, got herself a coffee, and sat down with them.
“Mattie, I didn’t know you were doing so well.”
While Mattie knew Jenna’s words weren’t meant to sound critical, she felt herself tense up. Jenna was a pretty girl—tall, slim, and blessed with rich golden-colored hair and eyes that were a beautiful mix of green and blue. In contrast, Mattie felt more conspicuous than ever. “I’m doing better,” she finally said. “I’m done with chemotherapy and radiation treatments. Actually, I’m down to just a few pills a day.”
“Better than that,” Corrine said supportively. “She’s able to eat out sometimes now.”
“That is a blessing. Why, last time I went riding with Graham, all he said about you was that you were still
shvach
.”
“I am still weak,” she allowed, then stopped, at a loss of what else to say.
The tense sensation in her stomach was evolving into something more taut and bitter as each second passed. Graham was only her friend. That was true. Never had she ever considered him in a romantic sense.
So why was she suddenly wishing that Jenna and he would not be getting along?
Jenna got to her feet. “I’d truly love to sit with you two some more, but I suppose I should go sit with Loyal now.”
Corrine raised a brow. “He’s at the counter with the men.”
“But I don’t want him to think I’m ignoring him, since I’ve been seeing so much of his brother, you know.” Jenna turned and walked away before either Corrine or Mattie could comment.
But her quick exit didn’t stop them from watching Jenna approach Loyal and the play of confused expressions on his face when he realized she intended to sit with him.
Corrine nudged Mattie with her foot. “Loyal is your neighbor, Mattie. Do you think you should go over there, too, just so he won’t think you’re ignoring him?”
Mattie giggled under her breath. Oh, but she did love Corrine’s feisty sense of humor! She was about to say something else when Loyal scooted off his stool and headed for the door, his Styrofoam cup in one hand and a bag of donuts in the other.
Then, just like they were watching a children’s play, they watched him quickly cross the parking lot, scamper across the road, and stride over to Ella Hostetler. After a brief conversation, the two of them started walking together. Ella talking and Loyal smiling at her.
Just like he didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world. “Now, isn’t that interesting?” Mattie wondered aloud.
“Almost as interesting as watching Jenna sitting quietly at the counter with a line of men,” Corrine whispered. “I hope she starts chatting with them soon . . . or they’ll think they’re being ignored!”
All at once, Mattie’s terrible knot of nerves dissipated and true, warm, and easy feelings flowed through her.
They lasted all day. Right up to that evening. When she felt a lump under her armpit.