The Survivor (6 page)

Overcome with gratitude, she merely nodded as they slowly walked together, Graham’s heat and scent making her feel secure.

Making her feel like she was special to him. No, more than that. Like Mattie Lapp was the most important person in his world.

But that had to be the truth, wasn’t it? Their disagreement had proved something to her. Graham Weaver was the most important person in her life.

Chapter Six

“O
nkle
John, how come you don’t come over here as much as you used to?” Katie asked.

John looked up from the puzzle they were doing together and scanned his niece’s expression, trying to figure out if she was truly sad about his absence of late . . . or if she was wanting something. One could never be sure with Katie.

But when she merely stared at him with her big blue eyes, he kept his voice soft. “Katie, dear. You know I still visit you all the time.”

“Not as much. Not like you used to. You used to come almost every evening.”

“I’m busy, Katie. I’ve got the store to run, you know.”

“And other things, too?”

Ah. There was the reasoning. Katie was wanting some answers. “Yes. I’ve been making new friends.”

“I heard Lucy tell Calvin that you sometimes see Mrs. Zehr.”

John shook his head. “Sounds like your hearing is as good as ever. For your information, I have been seeing Mary and Abel. Just a little bit. When they come into the shop.”

“But not Ms. Donovan?”

“No, not Jayne.” To his surprise, he still felt a momentary pang of guilt whenever he thought of the pretty librarian with the violet eyes. If he’d been willing to stay English, he thought he might have been able to be happy with her.

Or perhaps not. Though she appealed to him, he’d never felt like she’d needed him. Not really. And after living thirty-some-odd years for the most part by himself, he was eager to be needed.

“I see Ms. Donovan when I go to the library.”

“I know you do. You see Ella there, too.”

Katie nodded importantly as she picked up a red puzzle piece and put it in the red pile. “You know, one day you could bring Mary and Abel over here.”

John privately thought that might be a little awkward. So far, he hadn’t even gone to her house for dinner. Besides that, he had a feeling that Mary was more than hesitant about the community commenting on their relationship. “One day I will bring Mary here. But for right now, I just want to spend time with you.”

“That’s why I like you coming over, Uncle John.”

“Why is that?”

“You always have time for me. And you bring us potato chips.”

Looking at the bag of Lays, he had to smile. His niece was a junk-food junkie. “Katie, I don’t think you’ve met a bag of chips you didn’t like.”

She smiled his way, then scooted closer. “You won’t ever leave Jacob’s Crossing again, will ya?”

“I hope not.” Of course, he already had a trip planned to go back to Indianapolis. He wanted to make sure everything was going well on the sale of his place. And he wanted to take one last look at the city he’d come to love before turning his back on that life for good.

“I hope not, too.” Nibbling her bottom lip, she rearranged two pieces together until they snapped into place. “I got a match.”

“You did indeed, Katie. Those fit together perfectly. Just like you and me. We’re a good match, child.”

O
h, but their conversation was as wobbly as a loose wheel on a buggy! For the last fifteen minutes, Mattie and William had skittered from one topic to the next. Trying—without success—to find a common thread to grab ahold of.

Mattie was sure this was going to be the longest buggy ride in the history of Jacob’s Crossing. Why, her time with William was starting to feel as long as a chemotherapy treatment, and she’d thought nothing could ever be longer than that.

“The snow sure makes everything pretty,” she said, feeling slightly bored and more than a little frustrated. “I like winter.”

“I enjoy snow, too,” William said from her left side. “It’s so fresh and cold.”

Mentally, Mattie rolled her eyes. Snow was
pretty and fresh? . . . and
cold?
This
would be the extent of their conversation, stilted as it was?

Almost against her will, she compared William’s words to what Graham would have said. Graham would have laughed off her inane comment, then would have volunteered to toss her out in the snow.

As the minutes dragged by like hours, she looked longingly at the fluffy layers that blanketed most everything around them. Only tiny bird tracks disturbed the pristine surroundings.

Yes, Graham, indeed, would have joked around with her comment. Or he would have suggested they make a snowman. But of course, William wasn’t like that. During their brief time together, he had seemed buttoned up and stiff. Almost wary. Mattie was starting to wonder if he would ever unbend enough to joke around with her—or even with anyone, for that matter.

As she noticed him shift uncomfortably, Mattie realized that he most likely was feeling the strained tension between them as well. She needed to give him a chance. After all, it wasn’t his fault they were strangers.

What she needed to do was try harder.

“Perhaps one day we can go out walking in it,” she ventured. Unable to stop thinking of Graham and his carefree attitude, she added, “Maybe even make a snowman?”

He blinked. “You can go out in the weather? It won’t make you sick?”

“The cancer didn’t give me colds,” she blurted before she thought to temper her words. “It only attacked my body.”

A red stain colored his cheeks. “Sorry. I just thought that maybe you weren’t strong enough yet. I mean, that you could catch cold . . .” He slumped. “I promise, I didn’t mean any disrespect.”

His honest apology made her blush, too. She truly needed to become less prickly.

What a joke it was, to think that she was treating her disease without hardly a spare thought.
Nee,
it was becoming brutally obvious that the cancer was always with her. “No, William, it is I who am sorry. I know you are trying to make sure I stay healthy.” His quiet, undivided attention made her bare her soul even more. “See, I’ve been living with my condition so long that I forget everyone else is still wary about it.”

“I can see how one might do that.”

She smiled at him, grateful that he was trying so hard to listen and be supportive. “You were right. It used to be that anything could make me sick. But I’m getting healthier and more fit every day. Even strong enough for a little walk in the snow.” She held up a foot. “I even have my boots on.”

He looked at her black, thick-soled foot, then glanced upward. As he did, William’s deep brown eyes softened enough to make her think that maybe she’d judged him too hastily.

She looked down and smiled.

“If you have your boots on, then I suppose we’d best make use of them,
jah
?” William asked as he carefully reined in his horse.

Now she just felt silly. Had she always been so childish? Had she always pushed others in order to get her way?

When he glanced at her again, she smiled weakly. Nothing needed to be said.

After pulling the buggy to the side of the road, William easily hopped out and tied his horse to a nearby fence post. Then, with the same economy of motion, he walked to her side.

“Are you ready to walk now, Mattie?”

“Of course.” Slipping her hand in his, she clambered down. When her boots landed on the ground, fresh snow crunched underneath them. A few bits splattered around her skirts.

“Hmm. I have to say that I’ve never been much for wandering around in the snow and ice, but if it’s what you want . . .”

“I think it will be fun.”

“Then let’s walk for a bit, shall we?”

When they stepped forward, her right boot slipped a bit, nearly bringing her backside to the ground.

With little fanfare, William reached out and gripped her elbow, then slowly slipped his hand down her forearm until their fingers linked together like two well-hewn boards.

His touch, though chaste, felt impossibly familiar. Too familiar. His palm tightened around hers as they walked over a slippery section, then started toward a thicket of pine trees. Mattie couldn’t help but notice that his hand felt different than Graham’s. A little wider. A little softer, too.

When his fingers folded around hers for a brief second and when his thumb rubbed her knuckle, she grew embarrassed and pulled away. For the briefest of moments, his grip tightened—refusing to let her hand drop. Then, as if he had just realized what he was doing, he let her hand go.

Feeling embarrassed and slightly wary, Mattie clasped her hands in front of her. What had just happened between them?

Her mouth went dry as she dared to wonder about her reactions to him.

As the tension grew between them, she cleared her throat. Then spied the perfect distraction. “Look, William, rabbit tracks.”

“Ah.” He pointed to another set of tracks. “These look like deer tracks.” After a second, he grinned at their own tracks, now looking so big and clumsy next to the animal’s perfect prints. “I fear our tracks don’t look near as neat.”

Mattie smiled at him, pleased he was trying.

Around them, the sun was peeking through the branches of the trees, casting faint shadows on the snow. A few cardinals and blue jays were fluttering, their bright colors looking strikingly beautiful against the pristine snow.

It was a beautiful day. A happy day.

At least, it should have been.

She glanced William’s way. For a brief moment, he looked bored. But then when he noticed her looking, he lifted his head and smiled. “Happy?”

She wasn’t. It was now obvious that no matter how beautiful the surroundings—or how hard they tried to converse—they were not a good match. “Oh, yes.”

“Then I’m happy, too,” he said. Obviously lying. “Though this wind is cold.”

At least he had hair on the top of his head! Graham would’ve had his arm around her shoulders, just to warm her up. Or would have pulled her over to inspect a squirrel’s nest or an interesting-looking juniper bush. Or he would have told her the names of all the birds.

Or he would have been just content to walk with her, saying nothing.

But William did none of those things.

Once more, she was beginning to get the feeling that he never would.

Chapter Seven

J
ohn felt as clumsy as a teenager as he clasped the dish of green beans that Mary had just handed him.
“Danke,”
he murmured, spooning up a few and tossing them on his plate.

But of course, three of the beans wobbled off the spoon before they reached their destination and flew onto the white tablecloth. Immediately, an angry blotch stained the cloth.

Right after, he felt his cheeks heat. Across from him, Abel snickered.

Now what to do—pick them up with his fingers? Pretend they weren’t decorating the space to his right?

“Just pick them up with your fingers,” Jenna whispered from his left. “Mary didn’t see. Besides, your spill doesn’t mean anything. Spills happen to everyone.”

He needed no more reassurance than that. Still reluctant to look at Mary, he set the bowl down, tossed the run-away beans onto his plate, then wiped his now oiled fingers on his napkin.

Making his cloth napkin stained well and good, too.

Inwardly, he sighed. His clumsiness with the beans was only the latest in a string of misfortunes that had happened since he’d arrived.

He’d tracked mud onto her floor, knocked over a glass of water, shattering the glass on the countertop, and had inadvertently told Mary that he wasn’t all that fond of peanuts. Just before he’d discovered she’d made a peanut butter pie for dessert.

Right away, she’d started looking for something else to serve for dessert—and he had begun to wish that he’d learned to keep his mouth shut.

As everyone around him ate silently, John’s nerves began to get the best of him. Perhaps this dinner was a worse than bad idea. Maybe they were rushing things a bit . . . eating all together like they were. At his sister-in-law’s house, he often stayed in the background, not wanting to make any waves.

Here, Mary was treating him like her honored guest . . . and Abel was treating him as an unwanted one. Obviously he had a lot to learn about family-style dining.

He glanced Mary’s way.

However, Mary didn’t do anything but smile sweetly.

After a moment, she cleared her throat. “Abel and I started something the other day that was mighty fun. We shared one good thing and one not-so-
gut
thing about our day. Shall we do that now?”

With a sideways glance in Jenna’s direction, Abel groaned. “Mamm, let’s not.”

“Oh, come now, Abel. When it was just the two of us, I thought it was great fun.”

Ignoring her son’s put-upon expression, she clasped her hands in front of her. “All right, then, I’ll go first. My good thing is this, dinner together. Jenna, I’m so glad you’ve come to live with us, and John, it’s a pleasure to share something besides donuts and
kaffi
with you!”

John couldn’t resist smiling right back. He was eager to do anything that brought the attention away from his string of mistakes. “And the not-so-good thing?” Oh, he hoped she wouldn’t say him staining her good tablecloth!

“That’s easy.” She lifted her hand, to reveal a row of three neatly applied bandages to the side of her palm. Right below her pinky finger. “I cut myself on the buggy wheel this morning.”

John leaned forward. “Mary, I didn’t even notice your hand. What happened?”

“Oh, nothing too earth-shattering. Something must have ripped at one of the wheels. When I rested my hand on one, hitching up Daisy, I scraped myself.”

“So that’s why I saw those cloths soaking in the stationary tub!” Jenna exclaimed. “I wondered what had happened. Mary, you must have bled something awful.”

“It was nothing. Truly.”

John grew concerned. “Mary, perhaps you should go to the doctor or urgent care? You might need stitches or a shot.”

Her cheeks pinkened, just as if she wasn’t used to anyone fussing over her at all. “Oh, goodness. I’m fine, John. It was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.”

“Will you at least let me look at it later?”

“Of course. I mean, if you want to . . .”

Feeling that connection between them, he nodded, though he sensed Abel glaring at him. Well, that was fine. He didn’t care. Someone needed to look after Mary, and it might as well be him. She needed someone to fuss over her!

After a brief pause, Mary looked at Jenna and Abel. “Now, who would like to go next?”

“I will,” Jenna said. “My good thing is that I think I got a job today. Ms. Donovan at the library offered me a part-time job. She said she’s been shorthanded.”

A brief moment of silence met Jenna’s pronouncement. John knew they were all thinking that the reason the library was shorthanded was because of Dorothy Zook’s passing. She used to work at the library, but then was recently killed in a buggy accident. As the uncomfortable moment lengthened, all of Jenna’s confidence dissipated in front of them. Paling, she sputtered, “I didn’t mean that how it sounded.” Biting her lip, she continued. “I mean, of course I’m sorry that Dorothy died. Even though she, ah, put Ella in danger . . .” Her voice drifted off.

For a whole other reason, John felt himself growing uncomfortable. Until he’d made his choice, he’d also been seeing Jayne. While he wasn’t sure just how much Mary knew about that, he would have rather not talked about Jayne at all.

John cleared his throat.

Again, Abel snickered, but it sounded forced, like he was struggling to stay aloof and snarky.

Tears pricked Jenna’s eyes. “John, I didn’t mean to offend. I know Ella is your sister-in-law . . .”

“You didn’t offend me at all. It’s all right, Jenna,” John said. Hoping that God would give him the words to help her and to make the tense subject lighter. “I know what you meant. I’m glad you got a job offer. I’m sure you’ll be good at it.”

After sending a pointed look Abel’s way, Mary folded her hands on the table. “Do you have a not-so-good thing, Jenna?”

A faint blush appeared on her cheeks. “My dresses are starting to get snug. I’m going to have to see if I can let some of them out.”

“I can help you with that,” Mary offered kindly.

John’s heart expanded as he yet again thought about what a wonderfully kind and generous woman Mary was. Here she not only had taken in Jenna, but now she was offering to help her with her alterations.

Looking briefly at Abel, who was using his fork to spin a lone green bean in circles on his plate, John cleared his throat. “I’ll go next. My not-so-good part was spilling food on your tablecloth, Mary. I hate having to cause you more work.”

“Cleaning a tablecloth is no trouble.”

He thought it probably was, but instead of stewing on it, he tried to think of something good to share. Finally, he brought up the little girl who’d stolen his heart. “My good thing is that Katie has agreed to let me take her ice skating next weekend.”

Abel turned his way. “Do you think it really will be cold enough for them to open the pond?”

“I think so. We’ve had twelve days below freezing now. That pond isn’t too deep. At least that’s what the rumor mill announced this morning at the Kaffi House.”

Jenna whistled low. “You’re a brave man, Mr. Weaver, to take that little Katie anywhere. She’s quick to run off.”

“She is, but I love her,” John said. “That little girl has enough spunk for several people.”

Mary’s eyes warmed as she looked toward Abel. “Your turn.”

After darting another glance at Jenna, Abel sat up. “All right. My
gut
news is hearing about the skating pond. And my not-so-good news is that I failed today’s spelling test.”

Mary gazed at her son with sadness. “That’s okay, Abel. I know you studied.”

“Not that it did any good.”

Jenna leaned forward. “I could help you, if you want.”

“I don’t see how. No matter how many times I write the words down, I still forget their spelling.” Pure pain entered his features. “I don’t know why I’m so bad at school. I just am.”

“Now, Abel—”

“I used to not be a good speller, too,” Jenna said quickly. “I learned tricks to help. It’s worth a try, right? I mean, if you want some help.”

John noticed that Abel’s shoulders straightened again and silently blessed Jenna. Only a teenage girl would remember how sensitive a teenage boy could be.

“Sure,” Abel said after a pause.
“Danke.”

“You’re welcome.”

Mary looked as pleased as John had ever seen her when she stood up. “This was such a nice conversation, Jenna and Abel, that I’m giving you both the night off from the dishes.”

Abel’s eyes widened. “Truly?”

“Truly.” Her gaze softened on John. Feeling just like a caress. “I mean, you were going to look at my finger, right?”

“I haven’t forgotten.”

“And then you could help me for a bit?”

“I don’t mind at all,” he murmured.

Jenna met John’s gaze; then, with a small smile, he walked to Abel’s side. “Why don’t you go show me your words?”

“Now?”

“Oh, yes. Now,” she said with a wink John’s way as she ushered Abel out of the room.

John picked up two plates and followed Mary to the kitchen. “I think that Jenna might end up being a blessing to you,” he said. “She’s sure helping tonight.”

Mary tilted her head up to look at him. “I think she’s going to be a blessing for me in many ways. I’m sorry that she’s disappointed her family so much, but I can’t help but be grateful for her help and company here.”

“I’m grateful she’s letting us have some time alone.” He looked at Mary’s hand. “Now, come over here by the overhead light,” he said, motioning to a gas-powered light in the center of the table. “Let’s see just how bad that cut is.”

“It’s not all that bad . . .”

He walked over, got a couple of paper towels, and picked up the Band-Aid box she’d left on the counter, too. “If it’s not that bad, this will be quick, then.”

Looking put upon, she held out her hand to his.

He stepped closer and carefully peeled the bandage from her finger. As he did so, John was amazed at how soft and creamy-looking her skin was. How did Mary keep her hands so smooth? Most other women he knew had far rougher skin, or at least a few calluses.

But then he saw the cut, and whistled low. “Mary. This is pretty deep. You should have gone to the hospital.”

Her eyes widened. “Truly? I didn’t think it was that bad . . .”

Though it wasn’t swollen, it did look red and angry. When he tilted her hand, she winced. Mindful of her pain, he said, “How about I take you to the hospital now?”

“Certainly not.”

She attempted to pull her hand from his, but he held it firm in between his own. “I bet it needs at least three or four stitches,” he protested. “If you don’t get those, it will leave a scar.”

“I don’t mind a scar.”

“Mary, I think you’re being silly.” Wondering if she was avoiding the English doctors, he said, “I promise that I’ll stay with you the whole time.”

“That wouldn’t be necessary. Besides, it’s just a cut.”

“It’s more than that.”

“If it gets worse, I’ll go to the doctor. But it’s fine. Now let’s do the dishes.”

After bandaging back up her finger, he let go of her hand with some reluctance. “All right. But I’m going to wash. You can dry.”

“Of course I can’t let you do that.”

Looking over her lovely brown hair, neatly twisted and pinned under her
kapp
, and the way her dark red dress illuminated the creaminess of her skin, John was sure he’d never seen a prettier woman. Or a woman more stubborn. “Of course you can. Mary, I think you really hurt your hand. As soon as these dishes are done, you’re going to take a break and sit down for a bit.”

To his amusement, she hid her hand in her skirts. Just as if he couldn’t see it, he wouldn’t remember the cut. “That’s not necessary . . .”

“But it would be yet another ‘good’ part of my day. Don’t deny me, Mary. I know you fussed all day to prepare this delicious dinner. And it was delicious, in spite of my clumsiness with the beans.”

“I hardly noticed.”

He knew she was lying. But he didn’t care. “I’m glad,” he said. “Now, let’s get these dishes done so I can have a few minutes to just sit with you.” Lowering his voice, he said, “That’s why I came over here, you know. I’ve been wanting to spend time with you and catch up. Just the two of us.”

Her mouth popped into a little
Oh,
just as if his words shocked her. Then she swallowed. “John, the things you say.”

Secretly, he thought she hadn’t heard anything yet. More and more, he found himself biding his time with her. Trying to be patient. To not scare her or spook her with too many touches or long looks.

But he was a grown man, and all this waiting was getting old. There were lots of things to tell her. Things about how pretty he thought her skin was, and how he hated the idea of it getting scarred or damaged. And how he was entranced by her personality. By her sweet manner with Abel.