Then she froze.
A woman about seventy years old was lying on the ground, right in front of the nativity. After saying something more to the man, Connor knelt beside her.
Jayne strained her eyes, doing her best to see through the shadows cast by the front entryway’s lights. Now she saw Connor was speaking on a cell phone. He had a strange expression on his face.
A trickle of fear knotted her insides. Whatever had happened hadn’t been good.
Well, it certainly seemed that her no good, very bad day wasn’t over yet.
Something very bad had just happened, and it had taken place practically on her front doorstep.
Chapter Three
JAYNE STOOD AT the door, her hand hovering over the handle as she debated whether to heed Connor’s warnings or offer assistance.
Duty, and the sense that she needed to follow her heart led her outside. As she stepped out into the dark night, a burst of cold wind nearly forced her to turn around. The temperature had certainly dropped to the freezing mark and she hadn’t even thought to grab her wool coat. Pushing aside her discomfort, she carefully tiptoed through the snow to Connor and the injured woman.
The man she’d first seen Connor talking to was nowhere in sight.
When Connor looked up, he raised a brow, but he didn’t seem too upset. “Couldn’t stay away?”
“I, uh, thought I might be able to help,” she said. Crouching down into the snow, she looked at the lady, who seemed to be a little out of it. “Hi. I’m Jayne Donovan. The librarian.”
Slowly, the lady looked her way. “So?” she said groggily.
Stung, Jayne rocked back on her heels. “Um, I thought you might need some help? Would you like to come inside the library and get warm?”
“We’ve got an ambulance coming,” Connor said. “She’s got a pretty good knot on her head.”
“What happened?”
Before Connor could answer, the woman opened her eyes again. “I was attacked.”
“Oh my goodness.” Just as Jayne was about to ask another question, Connor shook his head slightly. Warning her without words to stop her questions.
Jayne nodded, and kept her own expression concerned. “I hope you aren’t hurt too badly.”
“I hope so, too,” Connor said. “Luckily, the ambulance should be here in another minute or so.”
Just as Connor stood up and pulled out his cell phone again, emergency sirens shrieked through the air.
Getting to her feet as well, Jayne watched an ambulance and two police cars park at the front of the lawn. “Help has arrived,” she said with a tiny smile.
Jayne was about to offer to make phone calls to the woman’s family when Connor glanced at her over his shoulder. “Jayne, why don’t you go back inside? There’s nothing you can do out here, plus I think we might be a little while.”
“Oh, sure.” She backed away, feeling curiously hurt that she’d just been dismissed. When she got back inside the library, she tried to think of something to do besides stand on the other side of the door and watch the men and women surround the lady and speak with Connor. But of course there was nothing that needed to be done. Not after eight at night.
Chilled, she rubbed her arms, then kept her arms crossed over her chest and continued to watch. For a moment, she considered calling someone, but realized that there really wasn’t anyone in her life to call.
And how sad was that?
She’d been in Jacob’s Crossing for just over a year. Soon after moving she met John Weaver. Though they’d only dated a brief amount of time, she’d really thought there was something special between them. When he broke things off in order to see someone else, she’d become so heartbroken that she’d practically shut herself off from everyone else.
Which had been really dumb.
No wonder she’d been reduced to reading self-help books in the stacks.
Seeing the older woman lying there on the ground all alone gave her a peek into her future that she didn’t like. “Things need to change, Jayne,” she told herself. “No way are you going to end up old and alone. You’ve got to make more of an effort to reach out to people.”
As she watched a pair of EMTs help the injured woman onto a stretcher and two other uniformed men speak with Connor, Jayne felt tears spring to her eyes.
She felt sorry for the woman, out at night all by herself.
But Jayne realized she was also frightened. Had the woman been attacked on purpose? If Connor hadn’t arrived and kept her occupied, could she have been the woman getting loaded on the stretcher?
Jayne winced as the sirens rang out and the ambulance turned around and sped down the street, one of the police cars on its tail. Slowly, she went back to the circulation desk and sat down in the comfortable chair behind it.
Quickly, she closed her eyes and said a prayer for the woman, and for the drivers and doctors and other medical personnel.
Even Connor.
Connor! Funny how now she was thinking of him on a first name basis.
With a whoosh, the glass door opened and Connor stepped in, followed closely by two other officers.
“How is she?” Jayne asked.
Connor exchanged a wry glance with the other two men. “I think she’s going to be all right,” he said cryptically. “It seems Mrs. Jensen was walking past the nativity when she was grabbed on the lawn, then fell.”
Jayne felt a shiver flow through her. “That’s awful!”
“It is, but I’m not exactly sure what actually happened. The man I was talking to? He seems to think he saw her slip and fall against the side of the wooden crèche. Or maybe a rock or something.”
“There are some fairly big rocks around there. It was one of the reasons I put the display where I did. Most people go out of their way to avoid them.” Then she recalled what the woman had said. “But she said she had been attacked.”
“Yeah.” Another man pulled at the collar of his shirt, like it had suddenly become too tight. “She might have . . . or she might have made up her story when she got caught.”
“Got caught doing what?”
“Trying to steal a figurine, to be exact,” Connor said with a smile.”We saw quite a few tracks around the figures, and something that certainly looks like skid marks from something being pulled away.”
“So, we’re missing one of the pieces?”
“I’m afraid, so.” He glanced at the other man before meeting her gaze. “Two other figures were toppled over when we got there. Mrs. Jensen could have fallen while trying to take yet another figure and tripped or something.”
Jayne couldn’t believe that anyone would want a piece of her very old nativity set. “Oh my goodness. How does something like that happen?”
He looked at the other two officers again. “I don’t know, but I’m a little irritated. She wants to file a report. Which means I’m going to have to at least pretend I believe her and look around here a little bit closer. Not the way I wanted to spend my Friday night.”
“I wonder why anyone would want one of our old figures?” she mused, mainly to herself.
Connor shrugged. “I’ve given up trying to figure out why folks do things. One of us will go to the hospital when we’re done here and get a better statement. If she was hurt by a mugger, that’s a pretty serious crime and we need to get some more information. But if she was trying to steal from you?”
“We’ll have to investigate things along a different avenue,” another man muttered.
“Well, this is shocking. And at Christmas, too.” She flinched when she noticed all three men looking at her in amusement. “What’s so funny?”
“It’s odd, but this is Jacob’s Crossing, Miss,” the first man said. “Strange things have been known to happen on occasion.”
“My name is Miss Donovan, Jayne Donovan,” she supplied.
“Jayne, please meet Deputy Gomez and Sheriff Jackson. They’re with Jacob’s Crossing Sheriff’s Department, too.”
Too rattled
to say much, she nodded a greeting.
He seemed to notice. With a gentle grip on her arm, he led her to one of the big comfy couches near the children’s area. “You better sit down.”
Sheriff Jackson pulled out a notebook. “Miss Donovan, I need to ask you some questions.”
“I understand.”
“So, have you seen Mrs. Jensen here before?”
Jayne tried to recall, but at the moment she was too shaken up to trust her memory. “Maybe. She kind of looks like one of the ladies who always come in for the new mysteries, but I can’t really be sure.”
“Do you talk to the patrons much?”
“Some. Those who ask for help.” Thinking of her busy days, she struggled to explain. “Even if I have chatted with her and checked her out, we have a fairly large membership. She could be any number of women.”
Her stomach dropped as the three men exchanged glances and Sheriff Jackson wrote down notes in his notebook.
“Have you ever seen anyone lurking around the building at night?”
“Like a man? Like a mugger?” She was starting to get alarmed again. “But . . . I thought you thought she might have been out stealing my nativity.”
“She might have . . . but we just want to make sure we’ve followed every lead. So . . . have you seen anyone suspicious around lately?”
“No. But I don’t leave by the front door, I go out through the back.”
The questions continued. Some felt like they were the same exact ones, phrased and rephrased over and over. With each one, her nerves became more frazzled.
Finally, she said, “Should I be worried?”
“Jayne, I can’t promise anything,” Connor said. “But I think you should definitely keep your eyes open. You never know what could happen.”
“But it’s almost Christmas.”
“Crazy things happen at Christmas, ma’am,” Deputy Gomez said as he zipped up his jacket. With an exaggerated shiver, he said, “Lots of crazy things.”
The two men left soon after, leaving her alone with Connor again.
“How about I walk you to your car, and then follow you home?”
“There’s no reason to do that. I’m okay.” Of course, she wasn’t, but he didn’t need to know that.
“Let me do this. Remember, I live on your street, so it’s not like it’s out of my way. Besides, you’re rattled.”
She couldn’t deny that. “I am pretty shaken up, but I’ll be fine.” Eventually. When the shivers running up and down her spine subsided a bit.
Sympathy entered his eyes. “I’m sorry, I should have told you to call a friend or your boyfriend.”
“I, um, don’t have a boyfriend,” she blurted before she thought to keep that little tidbit to herself. Before he could ask more questions that would lead her to admit just how empty she felt at the moment, she pasted on a smile. “Look, I’m going to be okay. You certainly don’t have to follow me home. But don’t forget your books.”
Looking at his neat stack of books on the counter, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Boy, so much has happened, I almost forgot why I came in here.”
“You’ll remember when you’re knee-deep in one of those thrillers. Enjoy your evening, Connor. I’ll go ahead and lock up.”
“I think I’ll stay and walk you out.”
“Sure?”
“Positive.” He stood still while she bolted the locks on the front doors, made sure the desk drawers were locked, then paused at the door to the offices.
“The back door is this way,” she said.
“Lead on.”
Walking down the narrow hall with him felt strangely intimate. And when she stepped through the back door, waited for him, and then locked the door behind him, she felt even more aware of an unspoken familiarity.
He had her pause as he walked around her car, then nodded, signaling for her to get in.
Then suddenly, he was sitting beside her, and the cold, dark car was filled with his scent.
“My vehicle’s on the street.”
“Oh. Sure.”
In no time at all, she was at his truck.
“Wait a sec and I’ll follow you home,” he said before exiting the car, slamming the door shut.
She waited, and felt his reassuring presence the whole drive home. When he pulled into her driveway behind her, he left his truck running as he walked to her window. “Are you sure that you’re going to be okay?”
“Positive,” she said, echoing what he’d said earlier. Jayne almost smiled, trying her best to look calmer than she felt.
“All right, goodbye then.”
“Thanks, Connor. And, uh, Connor? Hope you enjoy the books.”
He laughed. “Thanks. Night, Jayne. See you soon.”
She only hoped that was a promise of good things to come . . . not a warning that things could soon be getting much worse. And maybe even more dangerous.
Chapter Four
“KATIE WEAVER, CARE to tell me why you are sitting in bed, reading the Bible?” her mother asked when she entered her bedroom long after Katie was supposed to be asleep.
Katie gulped. Katie knew all too well that her mother only said her first and last name when she was upset with her.
Which happened to be fairly often.
Hands on her hips, her mother raised a brow. “Katie?”
“Yes, Mamm.” Shoving the big, heavy book off her lap, Katie bit her lip. “I’ve got a gut reason. I mean, I do. Kind of,” she mumbled. Raising her chin, she prepared to get yet another talking to.
But instead of chastising her for being up so late, her mother sat on the side of her bed. “Care to tell me why you are reading your father’s Bible?”
“I didn’t hurt it. I was real careful.”
“So I see.” Lifting the special book off the mattress, her mamm put it on the bedside table. “But I’m asking because I know we’ve given you some children’s books filled with Bible stories. They would be much easier to read, Katie.”
“You did, and I like them fine. But I’m looking for something mighty important.”
Her mother blinked. “You are? And what that might be?”
“I want to know everyone who was in the stable with Jesus.”
“In Bethlehem when He was born?”
“Uh huh.” She braced herself for another round of questions.
But instead of asking her why she was so interested, her mother retrieved the book and set it in her lap. Biting her lip, she flipped the thin, fragile pages to the Book of Luke. Then pointed to the second chapter. “It says here Mary and Joseph were in a stable. And an angel comes to visit the shepherds.”
“Is there a donkey? What about a cow? And does it talk about sheep? Were there sheep?”
“Well, the shepherds were in the field. One can only assume they had sheep. But as for what animals were there in the stable . . .” she said slowly. “I have to say I’m not rightly sure.” After skimming the text again, she leaned back against the headboard. “Katie, why are you so interested?”
“Because there’s a nativity in front of the library, Mamm.”
“Ah, yes. Ella did mention that you were interested in finding real people to fill the spots.”
Glad that her mother was finally catching on, Katie nodded. “For Christmas Eve.”
“Katie, we Amish don’t usually honor nativities. You know this, right? That’s why we don’t have one in our haus. All we really need is this book,” she said, pointing to the Bible.
“I know . . . but I can’t help it, Mamm. I like the nativity at the library. I like it a lot, and I want to make it pretty.”
After a moment, her mother sighed. “I suppose I can’t fault you for that. A beautiful nativity is, indeed, a wonderful sight to behold.”
Her mother’s expression softened for a moment, but then she closed the Bible once again and set it on the table. And looked at her sternly. “Ella also happened to mention that Miss Donovan wasn’t interested in your plans.”
�
��That’s only because Miss D. is depressed about her love life.”
Her mother closed her eyes, just the way she did when a headache was coming on. “Miss Donovan’s personal life isn’t any of your business.”
“Don’t worry, Mamm. We’re going to fix her love life. Then she’ll be able to think about other things.”
Her mother’s eyebrows rose. “We?”
Uh oh. She’d said too much. “Um, Ella and me?” Katie said weakly.
“Katie Weaver—”
“All right,” she interrupted quickly, before another lecture came on. “Ella isn’t too excited about that. It’s just me who is.” Glancing at the Bible on the table, she slumped. “But I can do it. Miss Donovan just needs to find someone who likes books. And who likes her, too, I suppose.”
For a moment, her mother looked like she’d swallowed a bad-tasting pill. Then she exhaled with a whoosh. “Katie, if I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times. You are twice as much work as your three older brothers combined.”
That wasn’t good. At all. “Mamm, I don’t mean to be so much work.”
“But you are, child. I don’t think I had any gray hair before you arrived. Now look at me!”
Reluctantly, Katie looked at her mother’s neatly pinned hair under her white kapp. Thick gray strands now kept company with her dark brown hair. Katie didn’t think the gray strands looked bad, but she didn’t think she should say that.
Her mother glowered as she held up one finger and waved it like a stick. “You may not start meddling in the librarian’s love life. And you must learn to listen to people. If they say they’re not interested in something, that means they aren’t. It isn’t an invitation to brush over their objections.”
Getting to her feet, her mother picked up the Bible and held it close to her chest. “Do you understand?”
Oh, she understood, but she didn’t agree. “Mamm, this is real important.”
“It is not your concern.”
A Christmas for Katie Page 2
