Authors: Shelley Shepard Gray
The Protector (11 page)
“Well, I’m not Amish . . .”
“I know. But you were. At least, you grew up in an Amish home, yes?”
“Yes—”
“And I don’t need help with Abel to be Amish. I know how to teach him to value our faith and way of life,” she said with a small smile.
Mary was sitting there teasing him? John’s stomach sank. Second by second, things were turning out of control.
She brightened. “I know! Perhaps my Abel could work here with you for a bit? They don’t have much work for him at the hardware store.”
“I don’t have a lot of work here . . .”
“But that’s
gut,
yes? Then you two would have lots of time to talk and visit.” A line formed between her brows. “And you could do all those ‘boy’ things you were alluding to.”
More customers came in, and then more after that. Just like the Lord was teasing him. Showing him that he had quite a busy shop in spite of what he told Mary.
John stood up. “I need to get to work.”
“I’m sure you do. You’re a terribly busy man.” She speared another piece of pastry with her fork. “But, John, will you consider this?”
“Sure. Of course,” he said as she took another bite. “Um. Come by tomorrow with Abel and we’ll talk. Okay?”
“All right,” she said with a smile. “And, John?”
“Yes?”
“Danke.”
“You’re very welcome,” he said. He smiled wanly, before walking behind the counter. But in that brief amount of time, he said a quick word to the Lord.
I hear you, Lord. I hear you loud and clear
, he said silently. After days and weeks of waiting for a sign from Him, the Lord had brought Mary to his door and the perfect reason for the two of them to spend more time together.
Now it was time to listen.
N
ear the end of the workday, Ella discovered Dorothy shelving books in the children’s section. For a moment, she watched her. As usual, Dorothy was a silent worker, merely shelving the books and organizing stacks with little more than a distracted glance at any of the patrons. Because of her sour expression, most of the children gave Dorothy wide berth.
Ella was tempted to avoid Dorothy as well, but she knew she couldn’t behave so childishly. The plain and simple truth was that she couldn’t avoid Dorothy forever. And, well, not trusting Dorothy’s recent moods, Ella figured it would be safer to speak with her in a public place.
Picking up a stack of books left on a table, Ella straightened her shoulders and approached her.
“Dorothy, here you are. All day I’ve been trying to have a word with you.”
For the briefest of seconds, Dorothy froze. Then she visibly gathered her composure, placing her palms on a stretch of bare shelf as if to stabilize herself. Finally, she spoke. “I’ve been here all along. What did you need help with?”
Irritation sliced through Ella as she realized that, once again, Dorothy was going to place all responsibility—and fault—with her. “It’s not that. I wanted to speak to you about the note you left me last night.”
Still keeping her hands on the shelf, Dorothy stared straight ahead. “Oh. I wondered when you were going to thank me for the meal.”
Ella was stunned. This was the exact opposite of the reaction that she’d been expecting. She’d been expecting anger and accusations. Or even a denial. Definitely not such a chiding remark. “Dorothy,” she sputtered, “you were in my home. Without my permission.”
“No, that is not true.” Turning her head, Dorothy finally pinned Ella with a penetrating gaze. “It’s
mei
haus
.”
“I know it’s your house, but I am renting from you. That counts as ownership, I think.”
Dorothy turned away and rolled her cart of books two feet away. For a moment, Ella watched her actions in surprise.
The more closely she worked with Dorothy, the more evident it was that this woman thought of no one else’s needs but her own.
While it was true she didn’t have a wealth of skills when it came to working and socializing with others, even Ella knew she’d never been this rude to anyone in her life! Becoming increasingly frustrated, she followed her friend down another cramped aisle and continued her objections. “Dorothy, I don’t want you entering my home when I’m not there. It makes me uncomfortable.”
Silence between them lingered. Dorothy pulled a book from the cart, bent down on one knee, and slid it into the correct spot. When she got to her feet, she finally gave Ella her attention. “You are making me uncomfortable, too,” she said. “You are not acting like I’d hoped you would. None of this is like how things were supposed to be.”
“How did you imagine things would be?”
“I had thought you would want me in your life.” Her voice hardening, Dorothy added, “Ella, we were supposed to do things together.”
“Dorothy, we have.”
“Barely. I had planned for us to work together and eat our meals together, too. I thought we were going to be best friends. Best friends who would push aside duties for each other.”
Ella stared at her in confusion. “What duties are you talking about?”
“About your obligations to that man, of course.”
“My wanting to be with Loyal is most certainly not an obligation.”
“If he’s not a duty, then it’s even worse. Instead of returning the friendship I’ve offered, you are taking me for granted.”
“I’ve done no such thing—”
Dorothy’s voice rose as she stepped forward, crowding Ella. “How else can you explain the way you’ve been leaving me to be with him? It’s made me sick every time you’ve left me to see that man.”
“That man’s name is Loyal.”
“You shouldn’t be even talking with him, let alone spending so much time in his company.”
“Dorothy, he’s my friend.”
“He bought your farm. He bought your life.”
That’s where Dorothy was wrong. He’d bought her farm, but not what really counted. He bought things that had been important to her, but now she was realizing that those things had been just that—merely items that meant little. He hadn’t bought what was in her heart. Or anything that made her who she was.
Instead, he’d shown her many ways that he’d valued those things.
“He’s not my enemy,” she tried to explain. “All he did was buy my family’s farm. And I was grateful for that. I’d put it up for auction.”
“He pushed you out of your house. And now he’s driving us farther apart.”
“Dorothy, I’m afraid you have things all wrong.” When a parent glanced their way with concern, Ella knew their discussion would have to end. What she’d hoped would be a simple matter of clarifying their boundaries was becoming something else entirely different. “Perhaps we could talk on the way home tonight.”
“You’ll have time?” Pure hurt burned deep in her eyes. “You’re not going out with
him
again?”
“No.”
“All right, then. I will see you for supper.”
As Ella turned around, she felt her spirits fall. For too long, she’d gone to bed each night with a prayer to God, asking Him to give her a future that was more vibrant and filled with hope than the previous year had been.
And it seemed like He was doing that. He had given her a wonderful job and children like Katie to get to know. And new friendships like the one she was having with Loyal.
But why had he also given her such a confusing relationship with Dorothy? She’d been the one person Ella was sure she would be comfortable with.
But instead of comfort, she was finding only frustration and unease.
And the niggling sense that things were about to get worse.
“Y
ou didn’t have to come with me to the doctor, you know,” Mattie told Lucy as they rode in the back of Charlie’s van to the Geauga County Medical Center.
“Sure I did. I promised you I’d be with you every step of the way.”
Remembering how Lucy had come by train to help take care of her for a whole month while she’d been receiving chemotherapy treatments, Mattie knew that her friend had more than fulfilled her promise. “Hopefully, this journey will be over one day.”
Lucy paused as she narrowed her eyes. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“I know you, Mattie, and I know that tone in your voice. I know you almost better than I know myself. What’s happened?”
“I . . . I found another lump,” she reluctantly admitted. “It’s under my arm.”
Lucy’s eyes widened and she breathed in sharply. “When?”
“A few days ago.”
“Is that why you’re going in today? The doctor wanted to see you right away?”
“No, this is simply a checkup.”
“He’s not worried? What did he say? Is this normal?” The questions came out in a rush. Forceful.
So forceful that Mattie had to smile in spite of the million butterflies fluttering in her stomach. “What happened to my shy, timid friend Lucy?”
After a moment’s pause, Lucy grinned, too. “She’s inside of me still. But now I let this bossy part speak sometimes, too. Forgive me, am I making you uncomfortable?”
“
Verra
much so.” She cleared her throat. “So will you stop the questions now?”
“
Nee
. Mattie, what did the
doktah
say?”
“I haven’t told anyone.”
Lucy blinked. “No one?”
“Well, you,” Mattie allowed.
“Are you going to tell the
doktah
today?”
“I wasn’t going to, but I guess I should.” Looking at Lucy’s determined expression, Mattie said, “After all, I have a feeling if I don’t say anything, you will. Right?”
“Oh, yes.”
Mattie watched Charlie exit the highway and turn right. In the distance, she could already see the medical center looming. And though the men and women who worked there had been kind to her, she still felt a bit of distaste when she eyed the place.
She so did not want to go back to twice-weekly visits. To sitting in a chair hooked up to too many needles.
“I don’t want to go through this again,” she finally whispered. “I don’t think I can survive another round of chemotherapy.”
“Let’s not jump to conclusions.” Lucy slipped her hand through hers and squeezed tightly. “But if that’s what is needed, why . . . yes, you can. You can do anything you want, with God’s help.”
“But I don’t want this.”
“Then let me rephrase my words. You can survive just about anything, with God’s help.”
Mattie swallowed hard. Lucy had been through so much, she knew her friend believed that with all her heart.
It wasn’t the same for Mattie. Over the last year, her faith had steadily dissipated, like air out of a balloon. Now there was hardly any faith left.
Though she’d talked to Lucy about it, Lucy was under the impression that Mattie had worked through her issues and was a believer again. But that certainly wasn’t the truth.
Of course, that was another secret she’d been holding on to.
That one, at least, she’d been able to keep to herself.
“W
hat do you know about Dorothy Zook, Mamm?” Loyal asked when they were driving to the Middlefield Wal-Mart, his mother’s all-time favorite place to shop.
“Dorothy?” she asked in surprise. “Not too much. Why?”
“She’s Ella Hostetler’s new landlady,” he said, hoping he sounded more casual and nonchalant than he felt. “They seem to be good friends.”
“And?”
He jangled Beauty’s reins as the light turned and they continued down the road. “And I don’t know too much about Dorothy.”
She paused a second, obviously waiting for a better answer than the one he gave. “Well, truthfully, I don’t know too much about her, either,” she finally murmured. “As you know, Dorothy’s about ten years older than all of you. Because of the age difference, you all never played together . . .”
Privately, Loyal wondered if he or Calvin or Graham would’ve been her playmates even if they had seen each other every day. He rather doubted it.
After another moment’s reflection, his
mamm
added, “Did you know she’s from a big family? She’s one of eight children.”
That did surprise him. “I’ve only seen her alone. Where is the rest of her family?”
“They moved away when she was fourteen or fifteen. I think they moved to Indiana. Or maybe even Canada?” she pondered, staring out at the trees and flowering bushes they passed. “Someplace far.”
“Why didn’t Dorothy go with them? Surely she was too young to stay by herself.”
“From what I understand, she had plans here and refused to leave.”
“And her parents let her?”
“I suppose so. She stayed with Lydia Schrock.” She darted a glance his way. “Do you remember her? She was kind of a crusty old woman. Dorothy moved to her house and became something of her caretaker.”
What teenage girl would take care of a grumpy elderly lady by choice? “Why on earth would she do that?”
“Well, this is only hearsay . . . but I heard she stayed for a boy.”
“What happened with that?”
“A few months after her family moved and she started working for Mrs. Schrock, the boy broke up with her.”
“Ouch.”
Looking uncomfortable, his mother nodded. “I think there were some mighty bad things said.”
Against his will, Loyal felt sorry for Dorothy. “So, then, what did she do?”
“She stayed here and continued working.”
“Why didn’t she just go to her family?”
“I’m not sure . . .”
Glancing to his right, he smiled. He knew that look on his mother’s face. It was slightly guilt-ridden—the same expression she wore when she ate two desserts or slept in.
She was feeling bad for talking about Dorothy’s history.
But though he knew gossiping was a sin, he felt justified in pushing just a little bit more. After all, he really was concerned about Ella’s friendship with Dorothy.
“Mamm, we’ve gossiped this much, you might as well tell me the whole story.”
“All right. Well, I heard that she did write to them, but that Mrs. Schrock had written to them, too. And while Dorothy said she wanted to leave Jacob’s Crossing and start over, Lydia didn’t paint quite as good a picture. She either said she couldn’t live without Dorothy, or made it sound like Dorothy had been acting foolishly with that boy. No matter what, the family gently told her to stay put, at least for a bit.”
“She never joined her family, did she?”
His mom shook her head with regret. “No, she didn’t. About a year after all this took place, old Lydia died. She left some money for Dorothy. Dorothy used it for the house she’s living in, and then she went to work at the library.”
“It’s a pretty sad story, Mamm. That poor girl was used by a man, used by Lydia, and then abandoned by her family.”
“It is sad. Terribly sad. No one ever speaks of it.”
“If people did, maybe she wouldn’t be so strange,” he muttered, as he entered the Wal-Mart parking lot and veered left toward the buggy area. “I guess she never got back with that boy?”
“She did not. He married, then moved to Sugarcreek or Berlin or somewhere.” As Loyal parked the buggy in the covered area and they exited the buggy, his mom looked at him curiously. “It’s your turn now. How interested in Ella are you?”
“I’m not sure . . .”
“Loyal.”
“All right. I know I’m far more interested in her than I thought I would ever be. I like her, Mamm. She’s got a good spirit,” he added as they walked to the entrance of the supercenter. “But, Mamm, this Dorothy doesn’t seem to have her best interests at heart.”
“Has Ella told you this?”
“Yes. Well, to some extent she has. Ella’s been through a lot. She’s now doing the kinds of things she’s always wanted to do. She’s working and making new friends.”
“Wasn’t the library Dorothy’s doing?”
“Yes, but I’m starting to think that the library job and her house was all so Dorothy could keep track of Ella. That’s wrong, don’t you think?”
Her mouth pursed. “If that’s what happening . . . then, yes, it is disturbing.”
Loyal nodded.
Grasping his arm, his mother leaned closer. “But, Loyal, Son. Don’t forget something.”
He paused. “What?”
“It’s been my experience that people don’t care to have you interfere in their lives without good reason,” she warned. “If you do try to break their friendship, both women will be hurt—and Ella might never forgive you.”
Though his mother’s words caused a chill to run through him, he couldn’t escape the belief that he was the one in the right. His motives were justified. “I’d only be protecting her. For her own good.”
“She will only be appreciative of it if she sees things your way,” she said slowly. “If she doesn’t, you could be causing nothing but pain.”
Loyal stood still while his mother stepped forward and took a shopping cart.
As she started wheeling it into the cool, air-conditioned building, she looked at him again. “And, Loyal Weaver, I think all of us would agree that Dorothy has been through enough pain already.”
It irked him, but Loyal nodded. Once again, his mother was right. It seemed, no matter what, she was always right.