The Survivor (4 page)

Now it seemed the opposite was true. Time and again, responsibility and duty necessitated choices. She glanced at the Weaver family once more, but to her surprise, Graham was gone.

And then she sensed his presence near her. Looking to her right, she saw him approach, a determined expression on his face. “Mattie, may we talk for a bit?”

Beside her, Corrine almost choked on her cookie. Everyone else surrounding them stopped talking and eagerly listened for her response. Waiting for more fodder for the gossip mill.

And that was something she wasn’t eager to deal with. “I don’t think so.”

Hurt flashed in his blue eyes. “Why not?”

She felt guilty about hurting his feelings, but she couldn’t help herself. Though she’d defended his reputation to Corrine, Mattie wasn’t completely sure that he was the innocent party in Jenna’s drama. There had to be a grain of truth to her story.

With that in mind, she kept her tone cool and quiet. “I’m not who you should be seen with, Graham.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re not, huh?” His voice cooled. “And who do you think I should be seeing instead?”

“Jenna.”

“She’s not here.”

“Perhaps you should go looking for her, then.”

The fire in his eyes settled into the dim light of contempt. “So you believe the stories?”

“They are hard to ignore.” Feeling like their whole community was still staring at them and soaking up every word like a sponge, Mattie picked up a corner of her sandwich. “I really need to eat,” she said.

Looking at her like she was a stranger, Graham stared, then with a shake of his head, wandered off.

“I’m proud of you,” Corrine murmured.

“It had to be done,” Mattie said with a shrug. Resolutely, she took another bite of her sandwich.

And tried not to gag.

Chapter Four

N
ow Graham knew his worst fears were realized. Mattie didn’t believe him. Even worse, she said she didn’t trust him, either. After everything they’d been through, she had the nerve to tell him such things.

Graham felt so hurt and betrayed, he hardly knew where to turn. Not that there were plenty of choices. Everywhere he looked, other people—people he’d known all his life—were watching him without a bit of shame.

Their pointed interest and disregard made him feel like something of an embarrassment. And that was a terribly unfamiliar and unwanted feeling.

Seeking solace, Graham raised his chin and looked across the room, to where his brothers sat. He met Loyal’s gaze. Loyal was staring at him stoically, not betraying an inch of what he might be feeling. But all the same, Graham knew. It was obvious his brother was just as dismayed as he was about the situation he was in, and the lack of support he was receiving from those who knew him best.

When Loyal raised an eyebrow, silently asking if Graham needed him, Graham shook his head in silent reply then walked out the door into the frigid air.

Luckily, no one was congregating around the area. From there, it was only a few quick steps until he got to Beauty and walked her to the street. And then, because she was hooked up to a courting buggy, he clicked the reins and motioned Beauty to increase her pace.

With the wind whipping on his cheeks, he let his anger and frustration fly. “I’ll admit it, Lord,” he said to the empty sky. “Right now I’m mad at Jenna, at my family, at my community, and at Mattie.”

Even just thinking about Mattie made him ache. After everything he’d done for her, after every time he’d dropped everything in order to be by her side, he’d never imagined she would turn on him.

“Why? Why is this happening?” he called out, so loud that Beauty started a bit. Lowering his voice, he continued. “I’ve tried to be as good as possible. I’ve tried to be the good brother, the good son, the good friend.” He shook his head in wonder. “I’ve even started working at the factory so as not to interfere with Calvin so much.”

To his embarrassment, two tears fell. With a fist, he brushed them off. “But that’s not enough, is it? Maybe it’s never enough.”

Beauty neighed. Bringing him back to the present, and to the other vehicles on the street. Just in time, he stopped the buggy at the stop sign, and took a deep breath.

All his life, he’d prided himself on shaking off bad things. On never letting uncomfortable situations get to him. But he was beginning to realize that until now his faith and his honor had never really been tested. He’d lived most of his life being sheltered by his older brothers and feeling his parents’ unconditional love. Even his father’s death hadn’t shaken the belief that he was strong enough to bear any burden.

Now Graham realized that he’d been reveling in a false sense of security. When his father passed, his brother Calvin had immediately stepped in to offer comfort and guidance.

Even Mattie’s illness had been relatively easy to handle, because all he’d felt he had to do was be strong for her. Now his confidence embarrassed him. Of course it was easy to tell others to be strong when you weren’t worried about dying.

It had been easy to hold Mattie and coax her to eat and sleep when he’d never had more than a day’s worth of sickness.

Two miles later, his heart still heavy but his resolve stronger, Graham turned right and headed home. “I’m now ready to hold my burdens, Lord,” he said. “Even if they hurt. Even if they make me feel weaker than I’ve ever felt.”

And as he said the words, Graham felt the strong hand of the Lord resting on his shoulder. Reassuring him that all would be fine. That one day he would understand why he was going through this dilemma.

“I hope so,” he said bitterly. “I hope I hear very soon.”

“J
enna, this here is your bedroom. I, uh, hope it will suit you?” Mary rocked back on her feet, staying in the hall but motioning Jenna in.

After a pause, Jenna walked through the doorway. Inside was a twin bed covered with a raspberry-colored quilt. Beside it stood a fine-looking oak bedside table. A rectangular rag rug covered the floor. In the corner stood a wicker rocking chair and an oak table.

It was lovely and Spartan and immaculately clean.

It was also the first room Jenna had ever had to herself. The idea of having so much privacy was a bit disconcerting. Until now, her whole life had been about sharing.

Mary nervously rolled the bottom of her black apron between two fingers. “I hope it will suffice.”

“Oh,
jah
.” Jenna forced herself to smile. Her awkwardness surely had nothing to do with Mary’s hospitality. “This is a lovely room. It is terribly kind of you to allow me to stay here.”

“We have the space, and you need a place to stay.”

Mary’s words were exactly right. But still, Jenna was thankful. “I’m so grateful.
Danke
.”

Some of the lines around Mary’s mouth smoothed. “I’m glad you like it. I know it’s not like your home. But, perhaps—”

“It’s
wunderbaar,
” Jenna interrupted. Actually, it was far nicer than she was used to. Being the oldest of nine children meant a lifetime of hand-me-downs from relatives. And for making due with mismatched things.

Though it had never really bothered her—she’d never known any different—she could admit to daydreaming about having a room of her very own. If even for a little while.

“Do you want this in here, Mamm?” Abel asked as he came around the corner, lugging in Jenna’s suitcase.

Mary straightened a bit. “
Jah.
Set it on the bed.”

With a strained expression, Abel scooted by his mother and lumbered past Jenna, then with a heft, he plunked the filled-to-the-brim suitcase on the bed.

In answer, the twin bed squeaked a bit in protest.

“Abel, you should be more careful,” Mary chided.

“It was heavy, Mamm.” With a scornful expression, Abel looked Jenna over. “What did you have in there, bricks?”

“Abel! Don’t be so rude.”

His cheeks flushed. But his grumpiness just made Jenna smile. She had five younger brothers, four of whom were in their teenage years. “I’m surprised you caught on to my secret so quickly,” she said playfully. “Yes, Abel, I packed my suitcase full of bricks just so you’d complain about carrying it around.”

His eyes widened a split second before a grudging smile appeared. “It was no trouble.” He flexed one arm. “I’m plenty strong.”

“Yes, you are. I appreciate you bringing it in.
Danke
.”

He nodded his welcome before brushing past his mother as he exited the room.

Jenna watched Mary look after Abel with a burst of fierce longing. With a shake of her head, Mary turned back to Jenna. “I’ll let you have some time to get settled, Jenna. If you think of anything you need, please let me know.”

“I won’t need anything else. I promise. Mary, I just want you to know . . . I’m very grateful to you. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t offered me a place to stay.”

“Now, let’s not mention it again. After all, everyone needs a place to live, dear. I’m glad I could help.” Gripping her apron again, she paused at the door. “Jenna, are you sure your parents don’t want you to stay at home?”

Remembering her father’s fierce scowl, his hurtful tone when he commanded her to leave before the end of the week, Jenna shook her head. “I’m certain. I’m no longer welcome at home.” She raised her chin. “I’ve shamed them, you see.”

Mary’s eyes softened in sympathy. “People say things all the time they wish they could take back. Perhaps when things settle down, they’ll reconsider.”

Mary’s words were sweet, but Jenna knew better. Her parents were good people, but they had ideas that couldn’t be changed and rules that they insisted be followed.

She’d known the moment she told them about her pregnancy that there would be no hugs or soft words. “I don’t think so. I’m the oldest child, with three younger sisters and five brothers, too. All my life, I’ve been told that it’s my duty to be a role model to them. Unfortunately, I’ve failed at that.”

“We all fail from time to time. It’s a difficult thing, to be an example, I think. It’s not hardly fair for you or your siblings, either.”

Jenna had never heard anything different, though she did appreciate Mary saying such things. After all, it would be nice to imagine having room for mistakes.

But there was nothing to say, anyway. What was done was done.

Mary fingered the edge of her apron again. “When you’re ready, come downstairs. I’ve made some hot chocolate and homemade marshmallows.”

The fake smiles were becoming easier. “That sounds delicious. I’ll be downstairs soon.”

After Mary left, Jenna closed the door, the sound echoing through the room, making her isolation seem even more pronounced. Almost afraid, she leaned back against the door and looked around the room. So pristine. So big.

“I should count my blessings,” she told herself. “I am healthy and I have a bed to sleep in. That’s more than I probably deserve.”

No, it was
far
more than what she deserved.

The awful truth of what she’d done hit her hard. As memories surged forward, Jenna felt her skin flush with embarrassment. Oh, but she’d done so much wrong.

Almost against her will, memories scattered forward. Tiny snippets of the past six months. Remembering seeing
him
for the very first time. Remembering how tingly she’d gotten just from a simple smile.

Remembering one night when the air was thick and hot and she’d let a few kisses become so much more . . .

Feeling her face heat, Jenna shook her head and forced herself to start thinking of the future instead of the past.

“Jesus, do you think I’ll ever be able to atone? Will you, at least, forgive my sins?” she asked the empty room.

Without pausing for an answer, Jenna forced herself to go to the bed and unzip her suitcase. The moment she lifted the top, smells of home surrounded her. Lavender and dust. On the very top was her well-worn chenille robe. Her mother had given it to her two years ago for Christmas. Almost her favorite possession.

Jenna had treasured the store-bought robe. It was so clean and perfect. For a time, it had symbolized everything she’d thought she’d wanted. Hope and choices.

Now it just symbolized everything she’d lost.

Tears pricked her eyes as she carefully hung the robe on one of the hooks by the door. Then, with a determination she’d pulled from deep inside her, Jenna strode back to her suitcase. She needed to unpack and go join Mary downstairs.

But right under the robe was an envelope, stopping her in her tracks. Fingering the envelope, Jenna gulped. The sloppy, crooked penmanship was unmistakable. Only her sister Ruth could never master how to make a cursive
J
.

Sitting on the bed, Jenna opened the envelope, then felt her throat constrict as she read Ruth’s words.

Jenna,

I can’t believe you’re gone. That you’ve left us! Everyone here is depressed, especially Mamm and Daed, though they are right now acting as if you never existed at all.

I can’t believe Graham Weaver is lying to everyone, too, and not even getting into trouble. Two girls I know who’ve talked to Ella Weaver, Loyal Weaver’s wife, say even she is sticking up for him.

It just don’t make sense!

Jenna, we have to think of a way to convince Graham to do the right thing and stop shaming you. As soon as he does that, why, no one will even care that you’ve got a baby on the way!

Then we’d be planning your wedding instead of pretending you didn’t exist.

I’ll try to write again, but it won’t be easy. Mamm sat us all down and said you’ve done things that we should all be fearful of and that you should be terribly guilty about. And that until you make everything right (marry Graham!) we should do our best to not think of you.

We’re not even supposed to speak of you. Ever.

That will be hard, however, because I surely miss you. Lydia has pushed her way into the room and she snores.

Love,

Your sister Ruth

Raising a fist to her mouth, Jenna choked back tears. Never would she have imagined that one bad decision would influence so many others.

Now her sister was suffering, and Graham was . . . embarrassed.

And shamed.

Remembering their last conversation, Jenna bit her lip. When she’d showed up at his house, she had thought he had really liked her. That he would have jumped at the chance to save his reputation and hers, too. Of course, she’d been wrong. Graham wasn’t going to reach out to her at all.