Authors: Shelley Shepard Gray
The Protector (15 page)
“J
ohn, please say you still have some long johns covered with chocolate frosting,” Mattie called out the moment she entered the front door of the Kaffi Haus.
As a pair of men looked up from their newspapers, frowned, then went back to reading, John rested his elbows on the glass countertop and smiled in amusement. “It’s been that kind of a day, huh?”
“You don’t know the half of it. Graham accompanied me to the doctor yesterday.”
“How did it go?”
She loved how Graham’s Uncle John was always so calm and nonjudgmental. Everything seemed to go along on its own time with him.
“I’ll tell you about it over a donut. If you have the time.”
He looked around at the empty dining room. “I might be able to spare a moment or two. I just made a fresh pot of coffee. Want a cup with your long johns?”
She almost cheered, she was so happy to hear that he had more than one of her favorite donuts available. “Yes, please.”
“Coming right up, then. Have a seat, dear.”
With a relieved sigh, she sat at the smallest table, in the corner, the exact opposite of where most patrons sat. But she yearned for peace and quiet.
Well, at least a little bit of privacy.
In less than two minutes, John appeared. “Here we go, Mattie. Two donuts and one cup of coffee.”
She noticed the creamy milky color and sighed with happiness. “And you even put a lot of cream in it. Thank you.”
“Any time. Eat up for a moment, and then I’ll be right back.”
Ah, but the first taste of the long john was always something close to heaven. She closed her eyes and took a moment to enjoy the rich chocolatyness of the pastry.
Two sips of coffee later, John came back and sat in the chair across from her. “Now, tell me. What happened?”
“I got the results back from my latest biopsy.”
The lines in his jaw tensed. “And?”
“And I don’t have cancer,” she said in a rush.
“This is going to sound strange, but for some reason, I don’t think you seem happy about that.”
“I’m stunned, I think.” Almost grudgingly, she admitted, “Graham said the same thing.”
“Is there a reason you’re surprised?”
After popping the last of the first donut in her mouth, she carefully wiped her mouth. “I’m afraid so,” she admitted. “I’ve been in such a bad place emotionally, I couldn’t imagine a life without cancer.”
“You were afraid to hope for something better.”
She looked at him in surprise. “You understand,” she said, surprised.
He laughed. “I know it’s hard to imagine that an old guy like me could understand . . . but I do. See, I’ve had circumstances much like yours.”
“Have you had cancer?”
His eyes widened in surprise, then he shuttered his expression quickly. “No, nothing like that. But I suffered losses. Some of which were painful,” he said quietly.
Mattie stayed silent. For reasons she couldn’t explain, she felt a connection with John Weaver, stronger than she’d felt with anyone in years, except maybe Graham. Though she didn’t want to be rude, she was curious about what hardships he’d faced.
After sipping his coffee, John propped one foot on his opposite knee. “I’m sure you know years ago I left here.”
“You didn’t want to be Amish.”
His eyebrows rose at her bluntness, then he nodded. “No, I didn’t. My brother, he did everything right. I thought I couldn’t measure up.” Staring at Mattie, he shrugged. “Now I wonder why that mattered so much. Anyway, I left here to the farthest place I could afford, which was Indianapolis.” His gaze turned sardonic. “I thought it was terribly exotic.”
“A big city would be.”
“It was,” he said softly. “Anyway, leaving Geauga County was the hardest thing I ever did—to leave the order and make a life on my own.”
“But you did . . .”
“I did at that.”
“And you got married?”
“I did. And after two years, I divorced.”
The notion of ending a marriage was foreign to Mattie. “You didn’t want to honor your wedding vows?”
“Oh, I did. Angela didn’t.” Bitterness crept into his voice. “She found someone else and left.”
Understanding dawned. “So that’s why you say things have happened out of your control.”
He nodded. “I was Amish enough to think that I would have worked long and hard before I would have accepted a divorce. Angela, however, went ahead and left me little choice in the matter. She was gone and had made it plain that she wasn’t going to come back to me, ever.” He sighed. “Anyway, for twenty years, I told myself, it was what I deserved. I left my family and attempted to form a new life. But you can’t, you know? We are all a product of our past. No matter how hard we might wish otherwise, that truth remains the same.”
“Now I can officially say I am cancer-free, but I hardly know how to act. I’m afraid to move on.”
“I was that way, too, Mattie. I stayed away, afraid to imagine I could go back. Afraid that wouldn’t be welcomed. Afraid to return. But Calvin’s visit spurred me into action.”
“And now you own this donut shop.”
“I do.” Looking around, his expression turned bemused. “I wouldn’t have thought it, but this place suits me.”
“Do you think you’ll ever find love again?”
“A year ago, I would have told you no. But lately, I’m starting to think maybe there’s hope for me yet.” He raised his coffee cup and gave her a toast in the air. “And I’m here to tell you, Mattie, that if there’s hope for me after twenty years, perhaps there’s hope for you, too.”
“Perhaps,” she echoed. But she was afraid to admit to anything. What if she gave herself hope and then discovered that she’d been a fool, all over again?
Behind them, the door chimed.
John got to his feet with a faint groan, then instantly became more on edge.
Curious, Mattie turned to look at the newcomer and noticed it was Mary Zehr, the widow who lived on a farm on the opposite side of Jacob’s Crossing.
“Mary, hello,” John said, every muscle in his face suddenly still.
“John,” Mary murmured. “It’s
gut
to see you.”
But Mattie noticed she didn’t look at the pastries in the glass case once. No, all she was doing was staring at John.
And John’s expression was as tender as she’d ever seen it.
Suddenly, the air in the restaurant became thick with tension. And Mattie felt like there were too many people in the near-empty space. With a flick of her wrist, she wrapped the last half of her second long john in a napkin, grabbed her Styrofoam cup, and walked out of the restaurant.
She smiled when neither John nor Mary ever looked her way.
As she stood on the sidewalk, she decided she might as well take a walk. And headed to the library.
But what she found there was a scene of chaos. Ella was nowhere to be found, little Katie Weaver was crying, and Ms. Donovan, standing with an arm around Katie’s shoulders, looked to be in tears herself. Off to the side was Loyal, looking as if his whole world had just come tumbling down.
Mattie rushed over to the women. “What’s wrong?”
“Everything,” Katie wailed, in that usual headstrong way of hers.
Though Mattie knew Graham sometimes became exasperated with his little sister’s outspoken ways, today she was very grateful for Katie’s propensity to speak her mind. “Such as?”
“Miss Ella, she left and she’s probably never going to come back here, neither.”
Mattie was completely confused. “I find that hard to believe.”
Finally Ms. Donovan spoke. “This morning, Ella spoke to me. She was finding it difficult to work here.”
“Why?”
“Because of the other librarian,” Katie blurted. “The mean one.”
Mattie had learned to trust Katie. “Who?” she asked, certain she was going to get the unvarnished truth.
Finally Loyal spoke. “Dorothy has been spreading rumors about Ella. She’s been whispering them to Ms. Donovan and upsetting Ella greatly.”
“I wish she had more faith in herself,” Ms. Donovan said. “If she would have given me more time to talk to her, I would have told her that none of Dorothy’s stories had any bearing on her job. I think Ella is doing a fine job, and I really thought she fit in here.”
“Where is she now?” Mattie asked, looking from Loyal to Ms. Donovan.
“She went to try to straighten things out with Dorothy,” Loyal said.
“Do you think she’ll have any luck?”
“Nee,”
Katie blurted. “Dorothy didn’t want her to work here, or even live in her house.”
Mattie was floored. “All this is so hard to understand.”
“Lies like hers usually are,” Loyal said quietly.
Jayne Donovan shook her head sadly. “I’m not exactly sure of the whole story,” she said apologetically. With a wave of her hand, she added, “For some reason, Dorothy thinks Ella has loose morals.”
His face red, Loyal said, “She only said that because she saw me kiss Ella.”
Shaking her head sadly, Mattie said, “Loyal, we need to go help her.”
“I think you’re right, though I did promise Ella that I would let her speak to Dorothy on her own.”
“Well, you did let her have time to speak with Dorothy. Now I think we should go check on her.”
“Are you sure you’re up to this? I don’t want you overdoing it.”
“I’m perfectly healthy now,” she said, realizing how extremely glad she was about that. “More than anything, I want to try to help Ella.” Mattie knew helping her friend would be good for her heart and soul, too. For so long, she’d only been thinking about her own needs and failings. Now God was giving her a chance to actually help someone else.
She couldn’t help but grab hold of the opportunity.
Turning to Ms. Donovan, Loyal said, “I hate to ask this of you, but is there any way you could let Katie stay here for a little while? I’d hate for her to be any more embroiled in this than she already is.”
Ms. Donovan looked at Katie and smiled. “I don’t think we’ll have any trouble staying here and keeping occupied. Katie, would you like to see the brand-new picture books that just came in?”
Katie’s eyes widened. “Oh, yes.”
Loyal smiled in obvious relief. “All right, then. Mattie, let’s go see if we can find Ella and offer her some support. I don’t want her to be alone.”
With a wave, Mattie left the library by Loyal’s side, scurrying down the sidewalk as she did her best to keep up with his long-legged stride.
And that’s when she realized with some surprise that for the first time in a long while, no one mentioned her cancer.
They’d moved on.
And that gave her the strength to move on, too. She was anxious to help other people, to worry about others, and to be thought of as something more than just a cancer survivor. She wanted to be a friend. One day a wife and mother. She wanted to be the person she used to be before her diagnosis. The same person, but better and stronger.
T
he car’s horn blared, frightening the horse.
From inside the buggy, Dorothy pulled on the reins as she tried to regain control. For four precarious seconds, the buggy wobbled, then righted itself, landing once again on all four wheels.
Dorothy responded by urging the horse to a trot.
By her side, Ella grabbed a hold of the bench in fright. “Dorothy, you must calm down,” she pleaded. “Dorothy? Dorothy, do you understand?”
By her side, the other woman flinched. “I understand everything,” she blurted.
“If you do, then you must listen.” Seeking to ease the tension, Ella placed her fingers on Dorothy’s arm. “Have a care, now. It’s starting to rain and the roads are slick. You’re going to injure your horse if you aren’t more careful.”
With a scowl, Dorothy yanked her arm away from Ella’s grasp. “You’re in no position to give me advice. You know nothing. Nothing!” And as if to prove Ella wrong, Dorothy snapped the reins to force the horse to move at an even faster clip. After a second’s hesitation, the horse darted forward, its hooves clip-clopping loudly with each step.
The buggy jerked and swayed. The increased speed caused havoc with the elements, causing raindrops to fly inside the buggy’s side opening. A breeze slapped against Ella’s skirt and brushed against her cheeks. The nerves that had threatened to overwhelm her rose up, hard and triumphant. Tears she’d fought back pricked her eyelids. Her throat thickened, making it difficult to swallow.
There had been many times in her life when Ella had felt helpless. But never before had she been so afraid.
She’d never seen Dorothy like this—had never seen
anyone
act the way Dorothy was.
She was beyond angry, beyond any semblance of holding on to her control—or, it seemed, her sanity. Nothing Dorothy was saying was making sense; and she acted as if she had little care at all for their safety.
Not for the first time, Ella chided herself for even getting into the buggy. She should have trusted her instincts instead of listening to her heart. It was mighty obvious that any good feelings Dorothy had held for Ella were now long gone.
In fact, it was apparent that Dorothy was beyond focusing on anything but the delusions spinning in her head.
As another buggy approached, Ella frantically tried to see through the rain-splattered windshield. Maybe it was someone she recognized. Someone who could come to her aid. Unfortunately, the elderly man was unfamiliar.
Not wanting to give up, Ella still motioned to him. Perhaps she could make some kind of hand movement that would cause him to stop.
But before the man did anything more than peer at her strangely, Dorothy grabbed her fingers and squeezed hard. Unbearably hard. “Don’t,” she ordered.
Nervousness turned into sheer panic. “Dorothy, you had best slow down now,” she shouted. “Better yet, you need to stop. You are behaving foolishly.”
Slowly, Dorothy’s head turned her way. “Foolishly?”
Seeing a flicker of recognition in her eyes, Ella nodded as she was finally able to pull her hand out of Dorothy’s clinging grasp. “
Jah
. You are being terribly foolish. Dorothy, please, you must manage your temper. You are going to cause an accident. We could get hurt!”
“I will not get hurt. I’m in control, Ella,” she whispered, not even bothering to look Ella’s way. Almost triumphantly, she added, “Do you understand now? Finally? You cannot win. Only I will win.”
Ella bit her bottom lip as her heart slammed into her chest. Any hope for encouraging reason was fading—as was the foolish wish for a peaceful end to the ride. The rain came at them harder, soaking their bonnets, coating Ella’s glasses.
Once again, she pulled them off and wiped the lenses with the inside of one of her sleeves.
But when she put the glasses on again, Ella almost wished her vision was still distorted. Now she could see Dorothy’s knuckles turn white and the tendons in her neck turn sharp. It was becoming more obvious that Dorothy was anything but in control. The buggy was sliding off the road with every curve.
She could barely control the vehicle.
Once again, Ella berated herself for ever accepting the ride.
After speaking with Loyal and Ms. Donovan she’d been walking back to her apartment, going over in her mind the best way to address her concerns to Dorothy, when Dorothy herself had pulled up beside her.
“There’s no need for you to walk, it’s starting to rain,” she’d said. Her expression had been sweet; her voice kind and melodic.
And because her new pale blue dress was already becoming dotted with raindrops, Ella had taken her up on the offer. They were only four blocks from their duplex—not so far of a distance to sit together awkwardly, and just far enough to be glad she was out of the rain.
Never had Ella imagined Dorothy’s offer had only been a ploy to get her into the buggy.
When Dorothy had passed their duplex, then turned onto a near-vacant side street, Ella had been confused. That feeling had soon grown into panic, then true fear.
Now she was holding on for dear life. Now she was at Dorothy’s mercy.
As a car passed, the vehicle’s tires shot up flecks of water. The splashes spurted up the side of the buggy and inside, soaking them and straining Ella’s already frayed nerves. The horse neighed its displeasure.
Now Dorothy’s buggy was practically flying down the road . . . on the way to the country, away from Jacob’s Crossing and everything that Ella knew.
With each passing yard, Ella’s worries grew—and with it, a sense of desperation overtook her.
And still the questions multiplied and scrambled in her head. “Dorothy, where are we going?”
“Away.”
“Away? Away where?”
“Some place quiet. Some place where we can talk.”
“But we could have talked back at the house.”
“Oh,
nee,
Ella. Never will you go back there. That is my home. It’s not yours any longer.”
The hair raised on Ella’s arms. She was more afraid than she could ever remember being.
But with that fear came the knowledge that she was willing to fight, to do whatever it took to survive this ordeal. To convince Dorothy to let her leave.
With that in mind, she kept her voice as calm as she could. “We can talk right now. What has upset you so much?”
Dorothy glanced her way, pure scorn illuminating her eyes. “What has upset me?” she repeated. “Everything that you’ve done. You’ve taken me for granted, Ella.”
“I certainly haven’t . . .”
“You’ve taken me for granted,” she repeated. “You used me, and what’s worse, you don’t even care. I was the one who visited you when you were alone at your farm.” Her voice turned harsher. “Do you even remember how you were feeling when your mother lay in her bed, dying?”
Each word felt like a sharp stab. “Of course I remember how I was feeling.” She’d been in a tunnel of darkness. Everything in her life had felt gray and full of despair. “And of course I remember your visits.”
“You should. No one else visited,” she added, her voice full of derision. “No one else cared, Ella.”
“That is not true. People came.” She wasn’t going to let Dorothy turn the already horrible time into something worse.
“People came to see your mother, Ella. Not you. They were never there for you. You were alone. Forgotten.”
Forgotten. That had, indeed, been how she’d felt. Everyone else had moved on, while she’d stayed behind, doing what was right. Making her mother as comfortable as possible, doing her best to take care of their home and farm.
But then, of course, she’d failed at every turn. Her mother still had been in pain and ultimately passed on.
And the farm had been too much—and too expensive for her to keep.
Even Loyal’s exuberance to share with her the renovations couldn’t hide the vague niggling feeling that she’d failed to keep up the house as well.
And though Corrine and Mattie and other people from their community had stopped by, their visits weren’t with any sort of regularity. Often, they were explained as an afterthought.
Was Dorothy right?
Dorothy laughed. “Now you know what I mean, don’t you? Nobody missed you, Ella. Everyone was too intent on their own life and their own problems to pay any attention to yours.” She darted another look Ella’s way. “Everyone except for me.”
Dorothy’s hurtful words did, indeed, strike a nerve. Living on the farm, with only her mother who had been near death . . . it had been a horribly isolating experience. Many nights she had gone to sleep, sure that no one had been thinking of her. And if they did, it wasn’t more than a passing concern.
And as she’d held her dear mother’s hand on her last day on earth, Ella finally allowed herself to contemplate the terrible truth—perhaps no one ever would care about her.
Against her best efforts, old hurts rushed forward. In a blink, all the confidence she’d felt growing inside of her started to wither.
Outside, the clouds darkened as twilight approached and the storm intensified. Raindrops splattered on the pavement, causing puffs of steam to appear.
Water had now soaked through most of her dress. Her arms and legs were wet. Little by little, the fabric got heavier, feeling tighter and even more confining.
They rounded a curve. Dorothy’s horse slowed for a brief instant before picking up speed.
In spite of her efforts to remain strong, Ella started to cry. Her tears mixed with the raindrops on her face. Together, they trickled down her cheeks and fell onto her lap.
Perhaps Dorothy really was the winner.
Ella knew she’d never felt more lost.
As if she sensed victory, Dorothy’s posture changed and her voice turned triumphant. “I was all you had. And when it was just me, you acted as if you cared about me.”
“Of course I cared. I still do care.”
“No. You were only using me to get what you wanted. In spite of all my efforts, in spite of everything I’ve done for you, you forgot me, Ella.”
“No—”
“You’ve forgotten me. I know you so well; I know what you were thinking. You were going to leave me for Loyal. No matter what it took or what you had to do, you were going to catch him.”
“It wasn’t like that. It isn’t like that.”
But Dorothy wasn’t listening. Peering straight ahead, she lowered her voice. “I had to stop you. I had to stop you from abandoning me. Again.”
Again?
“Dorothy, I live next to you. We were working together.”
“But everything isn’t right between us. You’re too different, Ella . . .”
“I’m the same I’ve always been.”
Dorothy shook her head. “No. You’re turning into the worst sort of woman. You’re pretending to be something you’re not. All to gain Loyal Weaver’s attention.”
Ella blinked. For a moment, she let the harsh, difficult words sink in; and for a split second, she believed them. Then she realized that Loyal wasn’t that kind of man.
He wasn’t the kind of man who flirted without true intentions. He wasn’t the kind of person who kissed without thoughts and care behind it.
And she wasn’t the kind of woman who did that, either.
Gathering her courage, Ella said, “Let me have the reins.”
“Of course not. “
“Dorothy, I’m not going to sit here and let you do this.”
“There’s nothing you can do. There’s nothing at all you can ever do. I won.” She looked at Ella and smiled.
Ella realized that Dorothy had gone completely off balance. There would be no reasoning with her. There would be nothing to do except try to escape.
Lord, please help me
, she prayed.
I know I’ve asked you for so much, but I need you more than ever. I can’t fight her alone
.
The horse neighed and jostled.
A car attempting to pass them screeched as a truck approaching them laid on its horn.
Scaring the horse. The buggy shook. Bumped. With a hard thump it righted itself, but then jumped and swayed again. Ella gripped the seat. Grabbed at the opening, hoping there was some way she could will the careening buggy to rights.
Dorothy started. Yelled.
As the buggy bolted off the road, breaking away from the horse, tethers snapped. Ella’s grip slipped.
The buggy crashed to the side.
Car tires screeched. The horse cried out.
So did Ella as she watched Dorothy fall. She had only a second’s glimpse as the woman landed on the hard pavement and slid to the side.
Then she gasped as the buggy fell on her.
Her lungs screaming, Ella heaved. With a last bit of effort, she strained to get free.
But it was no use. She was trapped hard against the wet ground.
“Please!” she called out. Hoping that someone would hear her.