The Survivor (7 page)

And by the sadness that seemed to constantly shroud her. The veil was thin and he could tell that she ached to put her grief behind her.

All he wanted to do was make her happy.

Since they were alone, and he was tired of hiding, he reached out and ran his hand down her arm. He felt a tremor from his touch.

One glance told him that she wasn’t afraid. On the contrary, she was feeling a lot of the same things he did. Encouraged, he linked his fingers through hers and rubbed her knuckle with his thumb.

With a smile full of whimsy, she turned and faced him. “John, what are you up to?”

“Nothing. Just trying to get a little closer.”

An eyebrow arched. “Because?”

“Because I want to kiss you. Just once.”

Instead of looking shocked, he was pleased to see true amusement enter her gaze. “Only once?”

Now it was his turn to feel flustered. Of course he wanted to kiss her more than once. But he would make do with what he said. “Just once right now,” he amended, then leaned close and brushed his lips against her slightly parted ones. Unable to stop himself, he wrapped his arms loosely around her and kissed her again, pleased when she kissed him back.

Perhaps the whole thing lasted one second.

Maybe one minute.

Whatever it was, it was over far too quickly. But it had been nice.

Being with Mary was nice. Peaceful. Perfect.

With reluctance, he stepped away and rolled up his sleeves. He squirted some dish soap into the sink and started the faucet. “Mary, please go fetch me some dishes, if you would.”

After a pause, she answered. “I’ll be right back,” she promised, scurrying from the room, making John think that this was just about the sweetest moment he’d had in a terribly long time.

Chapter Eight

J
ust yesterday, they’d been treated to a newly fallen snow. Now a good foot of fresh white powder covered the whole area, making the path that Mattie often walked between her farm and the Weavers’ look like a secret passageway.

The ground crunched under her feet as she forged a path, and she enjoyed seeing how her footprints were the only ones mixing in with the deer and raccoon tracks. Every once in a while, she saw a sleepy squirrel scamper among the pines, the only bright green dotting the landscape. All the rest of the elms, maples, and oaks were bare. Their dark silhouettes surrounded the path like protective arms shielding her from outside elements.

At least, that was always how she’d come to think of them. The trees had been figures she could count on. Things she could see. For a time, they’d been far easier to depend on than the mythical being of their Lord.

A deep sadness and a sense of loss filled her as she recalled how empty she’d felt when she’d been in the middle of her chemotherapy treatments. For a time, she’d felt completely alone in her pain. Not even Lucy’s careful considerations had alleviated Mattie’s feeling of dark isolation.

Yes, for a few terrible months, she’d thought she was not only going to lose her life to cancer, but her faith, too.

And then something changed. Maybe it was finally coming to realize just how difficult Lucy’s life had been before her husband’s death. The reality of her friend’s pain and layers of protectiveness that she wore like a suit of armor to protect herself from further pain had been eye opening, for sure. Little by little, Lucy’s complete faith had inspired Mattie.

After all, Lucy firmly believed that the Lord had held her hand during all her trials. That though she’d lived through two years of abuse and pain, she would have suffered through so much more if she’d had to survive alone.

So Mattie had opened her heart. The experience Loyal had with Ella in the fall had only cemented Mattie’s faith. Surely God had been present when Ella had been in the buggy accident, held hostage by her former “best” friend. Perhaps He was always with them . . . even when things weren’t wonderful.

“Mattie, how long are you going to be staring at those bare trees?”

Startled, she turned from her contemplation of the trees to the one man who she knew she could always depend on. “Not much longer,” she replied with a smile. “They were keeping me company until you got here.”

The wide brim of his felt hat shielded his eyes as he approached, making it difficult to see his expression. But though she couldn’t quite make out his smile, she listened for the usual teasing lilt in his tone.

When he paused, she was afraid it would be absent as well. “How goes it with you today?”

“About the same,” Graham replied.

She hurried to his side. “What is wrong?”

“You know. I’m practically suffocating under the community’s scorn about Jenna.”

“Perhaps you should speak to Jenna again,” she said gently. “Perhaps she’ll be able to explain things?”

“If I thought it would make me feel better, I would. But I’m still so mad at her, I don’t think I’d listen to anything she had to say.” Reaching out, he picked up a dead branch and snapped it in two. “Do you think she’d even
have
anything to say?”

“I don’t know.” Clearing her throat, she said, “Graham, don’t be so down. The gossips will move on soon. They always do.”

“Not this time, I fear.” After staring out at the snow for another moment, Graham rubbed his chin. “Let’s talk about something else. Anything else.”

“What do you want to talk about?”

“Well, um . . . you saw William the other night, didn’t you?”

“I did.”

A muscle in his jaw tightened. “Did you enjoy your time with him?”

Remembering their awkward conversation, followed by the awkward way in which they left things, she shrugged. “It’s hard to say.”

“Why?”

“It was different, walking with him,” she tried to explain but knew she wasn’t being completely truthful. It had been different because William wasn’t Graham. “But perhaps just because it was new.”

“You don’t have to rush into anything with him, you know.”

“I’m not rushing.” Heaven knew she’d been alone for a long time.

Graham’s sour mood and snippy behavior was turning her mood, too. Plus she was getting cold, simply standing next to the trees with him. “Where should we go? Do you want to go to your house? Or would you rather go to my home?”

He hesitated. “I’d rather not go to either, if you don’t mind.” Looking at her mittens, he said, “If we continue to walk, will you be warm enough?”

Now the cold permeated her heart instead of only her bones and muscles. “I will be fine.”

“Let’s go this way, then, toward Ella’s property.”

He pointed to a small, thin trail that snaked in between the two oldest oaks. Obediently, Mattie started following him. Because his posture was so stiff, she let him take the lead, choosing to stay a good two paces behind him for a bit. As she watched his forceful steps, not even trying to place her own black boots in his footprints, she began to worry. “Graham, things will get better.”

“They’d have to, because they’re pretty bad right now.”

Trying to imagine what would have brought Jenna to tell such lies, Mattie frowned. “Poor Jenna.”

He turned back his head to glare at her. “Poor Jenna? What about me?”

“You, Graham, are the innocent here. You have nothing to prove. And besides, even if you did, uh, have sex with her, people would shake their heads at you, call you too impatient . . . but your reputation wouldn’t be ruined.”

“But hers is.”

“We both know it is. And we both know you’re not surprised to hear that. I always thought it was something terrible, that the woman carries the baby and all the shame, whereas the strong man can escape that burden.”

“She’s tried her best to saddle me with it, Mattie.”

She caught the first glimpse of doubt in his voice. “But?”

“But now I hear what you are saying.” After a beat, he said, “It would be a difficult thing, to be thrown out of a home.”

“Her parents never were ones to see anything in shades of gray.”

“For this, they probably shouldn’t. After all, she’s pregnant out of wedlock and a liar. The babe isn’t mine.”

“I know. Of course it isn’t.”

Reaching out, he squeezed her hand. “
Danke,
Mattie.”

“For what? For believing in you?”

“Of course. I’ve been needing your belief. I’ve needed someone to believe in me.”

“Well, you definitely have that.”

Ahead of them, the outline of Ella’s farmhouse and barn loomed bright. Surrounding the buildings were neatly pruned holly bushes and trees. “What do you want to do, Graham? Visit Ella and Loyal or turn back around?”

“Perhaps we should go see them?”

She was glad he said that. She loved Ella and Loyal and knew Graham felt the same way. Plus, though they’d been walking at a fairly quick pace, her nose was freezing. “I hope Ella has a kettle on. Some hot tea would taste
gut
now.”

“Let’s go then. We’ll see what they’re up to this afternoon.”

Mattie smiled at him, glad he looked more relaxed. Glad some of the awful tension had eased from his body.

And because she was glad of that, she kept her last question to herself.

If Graham was not the father of Jenna’s baby . . .
who
was?

And why was Jenna so afraid to tell that man’s name?

The dirt path widened a bit, making it easier for the two of them to walk side by side. Little by little, he eased her fingers down his arm, finally curving them securely around his palm. Though both their hands were covered in wool, Mattie slowly felt their body heat combine. Warming each other.

Chapter Nine

“S
o I heard you’ve got a heap of trouble on your shoulders,” Uncle John said when Graham entered the Kaffi Haus early on Tuesday morning.

Inwardly, Graham slumped. Though he’d figured it wasn’t likely, he’d hoped there was still a chance that word of his problems hadn’t reached his uncle’s ears. Though he was very different from his father, Graham respected John’s opinion and didn’t want to do anything to damage it.

And he’d hoped to push his problems away and pretend they didn’t exist for a while, but he steeled his shoulders and prepared himself for the worst. “Uncle John, what have you heard?”

For once looking sober, his uncle walked around the counter and pressed his arm on Graham’s shoulders. “Only that a certain girl named Jenna tried unsuccessfully to get you to accept responsibility for her baby.”

Hearing that, he felt worse than ever, and more angry, too. “It wasn’t like that. John, no one will believe me, but I promise you—”

“Settle, I’m just teasing you.”

“There’s not much to tease about.” Didn’t his uncle realize that Jenna was ruining his life? “I promise, all that’s happening is that my life is getting ruined. In fact, things just seem to be going from bad to worse.”

“Ruined, hmm? What is happening?”

Graham narrowed his eyes at his uncle. For a moment there, he could have sworn he’d heard amusement in his uncle’s tone.

But surely his uncle wouldn’t be making light of the situation?

“Everyone believes her and doesn’t understand why I’m not offering Jenna marriage. But how can I? Her babe isn’t mine.” Once again, his anger rushed forward, stifling all the rest of his emotions. Pushing all his other emotions away until there was nothing left inside of him but anger, confusion, and resentment.

But to his surprise, instead of quickly turning serious, his uncle merely winked. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but sometimes when you are facing a crisis, there are only two choices to make. To laugh or cry. I’ve found that laughing is easier on your eyes.”

“I hear what you’re saying, but I can’t laugh about this. Everyone is whispering about me, and there’s nothing I can say to defend myself.”

After guiding Graham to a chair, John went to the coffee bar, poured Graham a generous amount, then opened up the bakery door and carefully set a flaky golden cherry turnover on a plate.

Graham watched his uncle with a bit of bemusement. When he’d first gotten reacquainted with his uncle, the initial impression had been that Uncle John was an impatient man, and one used to being in control. Now it was becoming obvious that John was far different than that. Instead of an impatient
Englischer,
he was a patient, reflective man, uneager to jump to conclusions or incite conflict.

In short, he was a Christian man, a good man. Graham knew for certain that his father would have leaned on him had he still been alive.

“Here you go,” John said. “This should help. I think you need some sustenance.”

Though he wasn’t hungry, Graham took a bite. At once, the pastry gave way to a burst of bittersweet cherry juiciness, the flavor exploding in his mouth. “This is
gut
. Did Amos make the filling?”

“No. The filling is, um, Mary’s.”

Graham felt a reluctant smile light his face. “Mary, hmm?”

“Yes, well, when I had supper at her house, I noticed that she had almost a dozen jars of cherry filling. I offered to buy a few jars from her for the turnovers. Kind of a test run, you know.”

“It’s a good test.”

“I’ll let her know.”

“I’ve noticed that the two of you have gotten close.”

“Some. Maybe even a little closer in recent weeks.” After pouring himself a cup of coffee, he added, “I had dinner at her house the other night.”

“How did Abel take that?”

A faraway look entered his eyes before he blinked. “Grudgingly, to be sure.”

“He’ll come around. It’s hard for a boy to think of his
mamm
as anything other than a mother.”

“I have a feeling it’s going to take a very long time, Graham. But, that’s okay. I’ve got time. I just want everything to be good, even if I have to wait longer than I intended.”

“I’ve got a lot to learn from you.” Looking away, he said, “I don’t know what to do about Jenna. I feel like I need to go talk to her and tell her to clear my name.”

“She’s staying with Mary, you know.”

“Yes, but you didn’t see her, did you?” Surely Mary wasn’t letting her Christian charity overrule her better judgment?

“Of course I saw her. She shared a meal with us.”

“And Abel, too.”

“The girl is having a difficult time of it, Graham,” John said sharply. “Sometimes it’s
gut
to remember that your problems are not the only ones.”

Graham pursed his lips. Privately, he thought that though his uncle might be right, in this situation, things were different.

Luckily, the door opened, accompanied by a cheerful chime at the front of the glass door. And in came a trio of people, his little sister, Katie, leading the way.

Uncle John jumped to his feet, his face a wreath of smiles—as it always was when he spied her. “Who could this small person be?” he asked, approaching the little girl well covered in a black cloak, a thick red scarf, bright green mittens, and boots.

“It’s me,
Oncle
!”

A line formed between John’s brows as he obviously pretended to be confused.

“Who?”

“Katie! Katie Weaver!” With a whoosh, she unwrapped her scarf from her face. “Do you see me now?”

After staring at her for a full second, he widened his blue eyes. “Now I see you!” With a laugh, he scooped her in his arms and gave her a twirl. Katie squealed with delight as she clasped her mittened hands on his arms and held on tight.

After twirling in a circle one more time, John set her on the ground. “I like your scarf, Katie Weaver. Is it a new one?”

“For sure.” She looked over her shoulder. “Miss Ella made it for me.”

John stepped back and smiled at Loyal’s wife, who was smiling at John’s antics like the rest of them. “It’s a pretty one,” he said.

“
Danke.
I thought Katie might be needing a red scarf for the holidays. And, someone here wanted to come over and say hello before we went to the library today.”

“I did,” Katie exclaimed.

“I’m glad you did. What is going on over at the library this fine morning?”

“We’re going to be making Thanksgiving crafts.”

“What kind of crafts are those?”

Ella grinned. “We’ll be making turkeys out of egg boxes.”

“I’m going to make a special one,
Onkle
John.”

“I can’t wait to see it.”

Graham stood up. “
Gut
morning, Ella. Hiya, Katie. Ella, did I miss you when you stopped by at my house?” He’d been trying to make a point to make sure Ella felt as welcome as possible around their family.

“
Nee
. Loyal picked up Katie at your house and brought her over. But you didn’t miss him, either. Your
mamm
said you’d already left.”

He had. He’d worked early in the barn, then had left, anxious to spend some time away from his worries. But here he was surrounded by family again.

The door chimed, and this time brought in a crowd of
Englischers
. John became all business, deliberately walking around the counter and smiling pleasantly at the tourists. Katie—being Katie—followed him around the counter, turned on the faucet, and started washing her hands.

Obviously, she was eager to be her devoted Uncle John’s assistant.

“Katie—” Graham called out sharply. “Don’t be a pest.”

“She could never be that,” John interjected. “Let her be.”

Ella scooted her chair closer. “Your uncle spoils her,” she said with a smile.

“He does. I need to talk to him. Let him know he doesn’t always have to let her have her way.”

“Oh, I don’t think he does. I think he’s just enjoying her company. I happen to think they need each other sometimes.”

“Really?”

“John is the closest thing she has to a
daed
. You and your brothers are very good men, but you’re not father figures.”

“I never thought about that.”

“Like I said, it’s just an idea.” Biting her lip, she looked him over. “How are you doing, really?”

He shrugged. “I’ve been better.”

“Your brother is worried about ya.”

“I know. But I’ll be fine.”

“That’s all I needed to know, then.”

“And you, Ella? How is the
haus
?”

“As messy as ever. I don’t know if Loyal and I will ever have things organized and in proper places. Right now, we’re remodeling the bathroom.”

“I didn’t think Loyal knew how to do plumbing.”

“He doesn’t. He’s decided there’s nothing like on-the-job learning.” She laughed merrily, her merriment ringing out loud through the bustling room. One by one, several of the
Englischers
looked at her, smiles brightening their faces. Graham didn’t blame their appreciation. To an outsider, Ella was somewhat of a plain woman. But whenever anyone heard her in person, all of her flaws faded; and before a person knew it, he was sure he was staring at the prettiest woman in the room.

She had a zest for life that was infectious. Now everyone in the family realized that their handsome, very outgoing brother had chosen well with his bride. By his side, Ella bloomed. And by her side, Loyal was more approachable. Easier to get along with.

“We will continue to pray for you, Graham,” she said.

“
Danke,
but what, exactly, will you pray for?”

“That you will soon know our Lord God’s will, of course. That’s all you can do,
jah
? One by one, we are all at his mercy.”

“Ella!” Katie called out, darting away from the counter with a very important expression. “We must go to the library now or we’ll be late.”

“You’re right. Let’s get you bundled up again, child.”

With one last reassuring smile, Ella turned to Graham. “I’ll see you at dinner on Monday night.”

As still more customers came in, Graham poured himself more coffee, then settled to watch his uncle. By his side, Ella bundled up his sister, said goodbye to John, then shuttled Katie out the door.

After a time, the crowd in the restaurant slowed.

And then it was time for Graham to leave, too. But for the first time in his life, he didn’t know where to go.