A Christmas for Katie

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  “I was kind of hoping we’d have a real nativity, with real people on Christmas Eve,” Katie said.

  When the group started chatting about that, Connor began to wish Jayne was there to help answer the questions. Since she was still inside, he figured she must have gotten busy with work of her own.

  The ladies were still chatting. Then one called out, “You know what? My son David was Prince Charming in his school play. We still have the cape. He’d make a pretty good wise man. Maybe I’ll have him come stand with the figures on Christmas Eve.”

  “If David’s going to be there, I’m sure I could make my Kaitlin stand out here as Mary,” another man said with a wry grin. “Maybe even bring my son Charlie in to be an extra shepherd.” Somewhat wryly he added, “Couldn’t hurt.”

  “They’d do that?” Katie asked.

  “The kids are ten and eleven. They’ll have a great time.”

  As the other folks laughed, Connor noticed that Katie Weaver brightened. When she tugged on his jacket, he leaned down to listen.

  “We have three real people! Christmas won’t be ruined!”

  “You’re right. Christmas Eve is definitely looking better,” he said with a smile.

  In spite of everything else that was going on, Connor suddenly realized that in the middle of all the commotion, his mood had brightened a bit, too. He’d just helped make a little girl happier, and he just happened to have a date planned with Jayne Donovan, the prettiest librarian in town.

  Things could be a whole lot worse.

  Chapter Six

  AFTER SAYING GOODBYE to Katie and promising to be back at seven to pick Jayne up for dinner, Connor double-checked Mrs. Jensen’s address, then walked to her house.

  It was only a block away, which made her appearance at the library so close to closing make more sense. Perhaps she liked to walk at night? He’d known people to do stranger things!

  Glancing around the area, he noticed that most of the homes were the same size and shape. He remembered reading about the Sears catalog homes of the forties. Thousands of people bought the house kits, and many of the durable, charming structures were still being lived in today. Most on this block were decorated for Christmas—wreaths decorated the doors, trees were adorned with lights. More than a few had an assortment of lawn decorations in their front yards.

  Surrounding it all was a blanket of snow, making him feel like he’d stepped into the middle of a snow globe or a Currier and Ives Christmas card. Taking a moment, he cleared his mind and let the beauty of the day and the wonder of the season grip his heart. Of late, he’d been so wrapped up in his recent move and his desire to make a good impression at work that he’d rarely taken the time to appreciate the magic of the Christmas season.

  At last, he came to Mrs. Jensen’s address. Slowing his pace, he gazed at the front lawn. In contrast to the other homes, hers looked like a Christmas warehouse had exploded on the front lawn. Everywhere he looked, he saw Santas and reindeer, elves and snowmen. Stopping at the entrance to her walkway, he looked at everything more closely. Despite the multitude, her Christmas decorations looked worn and disappointed, a bit grubby, and more than a little unkempt. In the midst of the plastic and wooden figures, old twigs and branches lay in stacks and piles.

  To his surprise, there was no car in her driveway. He wasn’t sure why he’d assumed her relatives or friends would be over. Maybe because back home in Kentucky his whole family would have camped out if his grandma had been in the hospital?

  It made him sad to think Mrs. Jensen didn’t have that same kind of support system.

  As he walked toward her front door, he noticed that a sizable number of old newspapers were tossed in a pile to the left of a sad-looking giant toy soldier. A large wreath with molting red cardinals with black beady eyes watched him as he approached.

  Hoping no rodent actually lived in the thing, he stuck his hand in the middle and knocked.

  The door opened, and there stood Mrs. Jensen herself. “Yes?” she said, looking at him with a wary expression.

  “I’m Deputy Fields, ma’am. We met last night?”

  Cloudy blue eyes merely stared at him in confusion.

  “I was at the library when you got attacked,” he reminded her gently. “May I come in?”

  “Why?”

  To his surprise, instead of stepping backward, she stepped closer, and gripped the side of the door even harder, so it was impossible for him to peek inside.

  Alarms started ringing in his head. He didn’t need much more of a signal that something was going on. With effort, he kept his expression passive. “I have a couple of questions for you, Mrs. Jensen. Don’t worry, it won’t take long.”

  Lifting her free hand to her receding hairline, she glared. “I already told you people that I don’t know who hit my head.”

  “I remember. But I have some other things to talk to you about.” When she didn’t budge, he tried to lighten things a bit. “This is kind of funny, but we’re starting to think that maybe someone hit you when they were stealing part of the Christmas nativity that you were standing by.”

  Pure alarm flashed across her face before she seemed to firmly push it aside. “Why would you think that?”

  “Several pieces are missing.” Since she still looked wary, he heaped on his old Kentucky charm. “So, may I come in and talk to you? It’s kind of cold out here to be chatting, don’t you think?”

  His charm—or lack thereof—didn’t work. “I don’t let strange men in my house.”

  O-kay. “Did you happen to see anyone around you before you were hit?”

  “No.”

  “No one at all?”

  “No.” She looked at him disdainfully. “Now I’m cold, and I have a headache. I have nothing more to say.”

  She closed the door before he had time to draw another breath.

  Connor stepped back and started down her walkway, but this time, he stepped off her walkway and walked onto the grass, taking time to look around her property a little more carefully. Mrs. Jensen might simply be a grumpy old woman.

  Or she might have another reason for not wanting him to come inside or for not answering his questions.

  After a pause, instead of walking back to the street, he strode up her driveway, noticing that it didn’t lead to a garage, just a fence with a ramshackle-looking gate.

  He’d just bypassed Blitzen when he noticed a smooth track in the hard snow. Something had recently been dragged up that driveway and through the gate.

  He wondered what it was.

  Getting out his cell, he took a picture of the marks to show the sheriff. It probably wasn’t enough to justify a search warrant, but it was definitely enough to make him to decide to keep an eye on one grumpy woman with a propensity to collect sad-looking Christmas decorations.

  “KATIE, WE MUST be going home now,” her mamm said with more than a touch of impatience. “We have much to do to get ready for Christmas.”

  As was often the case, her relatives had taken turns carting her around. She’d gone to work with Ella, now her mother was picking her up while Ella continued her job at the library.

  But even though her mother was in a hurry, Katie couldn’t seem to stop herself from trying to delay doing chores at home.

  “Can we go to Onkle John’s donut shop first?”

  “Katie—”

  “Please? I haven’t seen him in weeks and weeks.”

  “We’ve all been so busy, I suppose it has been a while.” After glancing at Katie again, her mamm sighed. “We’ll stop by the shop, but just for a moment.” After making sure her bright green wool mittens were securely on, her mother took her hand, and together they took a left turn out of the library.

  Katie loved walking around Jacob’s Crossing, and especially at Christmastime. Many of the shop owners had strung white lights around their trees and hedges and left the lights on both day and night. Lots of stores also played Christmas music, so it was possible to hear snippets of music wherever a
person walked in town.

  Of course, all the shops and buildings were decorated with red bows and green wreaths. In the middle of the town square, the mayor had set up a giant Christmas tree. Miss D. had told her that the firemen had used their giant ladders to string the lights. “I love it here,” Katie exclaimed. Unable to help herself.

  To her delight, her mother squeezed her hand. “I do, too, Katie. Everything looks wunderbaar!”

  Before she knew it, they were standing in front of her uncle’s donut and coffee shop, the Kaffi Haus. Her uncle John was her father’s brother, and what was special about him was that he’d been raised Amish, had become on Englisher for twenty years, then returned to Jacob’s Crossing just two years ago.

  They’d all been glad for his company, especially her brothers. Uncle John had a matter-of-fact way about him that made him a good person to turn to for advice.

  He’d also recently married Mary Zehr. She was Amish, too. Now Onkle John was Amish again, and a busy man, helping to raise Mary’s son, Abel. Abel was fifteen and handsome. Katie secretly had a tiny crush on him, though she’d never let anyone know about that.

  “Do you think Abel is here?” she asked her mother as they walked up the short walkway to the shop’s front door, keeping their pace brisk on account of the cold wind.

  “There’s a gut chance he might be. He likes to work with John, I think.”

  “I hope he is,” Katie blurted before she remembered that no one was supposed to know how much she liked him.

  Her mother smiled but said nothing about that, thank goodness.

  Katie was happy to see that Abel was there when they opened the front door to the Kaffi Haus. He was wiping down a counter and chatting with two Amish boys who were seated at the coffee bar in front of him.

  He straightened when she and her mother came in, and smiled. “Hello, Aunt Mary. Hiya Katie.”

  She smiled right back. “Hi, Abel. Hi, Onkle John.”

  Her uncle strode forward and scooped her up and gave her a little twirl. “How’s my best girl?”

  She giggled. “Good. Can I have a donut?”

  “Of course. That’s why you came, ain’t so?”

  Her mother gazed at John with fondness in her eyes. “We also came to see you two.”

  “We’re glad you did.” As he walked back behind the counter, he said, “Now what would you like?”

  “Do you have any custard filled?”

  “Yep. I’ll get you one. Now, what have you two been up to this morning?”

  “We had story time at the library,” Katie said as she climbed up on one of the bright red stools on the other side of the counter.

  “If you’ve just left from the library, I’m surprised you don’t have an armful of books.”

  “I’ve got some books at home that I forgot to bring back.” After she took a seat next to the boys, she told him all about the nativity, the missing figures, and how three children were going to fill in for them for an hour or two on Christmas Eve.

  While she talked, she heard her mother telling her uncle about the missing nativity pieces, too.

  “You’re staying busy. And the police are involved in such a thing?”

  “I believe so. While Katie was listening to the story, some other mothers filled me in. A woman was injured last night,” her mother explained. “She even had to go to the hospital.”

  Abel looked at his friends and smirked. “I wonder why anyone really cares about some stolen plastic figures.”

  Immediately, Katie felt hurt. “They’re special, Abel,” she said. “Real special. And Mary is Jesus’s mamm, you know.”

  He glanced at his friends again and bit his lip. “Lots of folks have plastic figurines like that. If one gets broken, you can get a new set at the store. You know that, right?”

  “Of course I do,” she mumbled around a bite of her treat. Her heart sank as she realized that Abel was kind of making fun of her.

  “Then why are you making such a fuss?”

  Against her will, tears started to form in her eyes. “I’m not—”

  “That’s enough, Abel,” Uncle John said sternly. “Katie here has a point. It’s a sad day when biblical figures are being stolen, and that’s a fact.”

  Abel tucked his chin. “Yeah . . . I guess so.”

  Just then, her mother stepped up behind her and squeezed her shoulders lightly. “We need to pay and move on, child. We have Christmas cards to work on. And baking, too.”

  “No charge for one donut, Mary.”

  As she always did, her mother shook her head. “That’s not what we said we’d do, John. I’m not going to take advantage of you.” She put two dollars on the counter and then motioned Katie to come along. “Come over for supper soon, you two. And bring Mary.”

  “Will do.” He winked at Katie. “I’ll be on the lookout for wayward wise men, Katie.”

  “Gut,” she said, with a tiny glare in Abel’s direction, before rushing to catch up with her mother, who was already standing at the door.

  Chapter Seven

  WHEN ELLA GOT off work that afternoon, Mattie and Lucy, her two sisters-in-law, were waiting in Mattie’s buggy to pick her up. “This is a surprise.”

  “But hopefully a gut one?” Mattie asked.

  “Of course. What are you two doing here? I thought you both were working on your Christmas gifts.” Though the Amish didn’t usually exchange gifts, they each gave small homemade ones to their husbands and to their mother-in-law. And to Katie, of course.

  But, like the English, their days kept getting the best of them and they were all hopelessly behind. Lucy in particular had said she wasn’t going to leave her kitchen table until she finished the table runner she was stitching for her mother-in-law. Lucy had Timothy to take care of, and Ella could hardly imagine getting anything done with an eighteen-month-old demanding all your attention. Timothy was a sturdy handful.

  “Mamm has Timmy and we needed a break,” Mattie explained as she clicked the reins to guide her horse and buggy forward. “Plus, we were thinking about you. How are you feeling?”

  “All right. Tired. You know how it goes, Lucy.”

  “Unlike you, I took lots of naps.” After a pause, Lucy turned to look at her. “Do you think you’re maybe doing too much?”

  “Not at all. At least, I don’t think so.” Ella shifted uncomfortably in her seat, rubbing her back as she did so in the hopes that it would ease the cramp.

  Lucy noticed. “Is your back hurting you worse today?”

  Usually she would shake off her discomfort, but it was bothering her too much to ignore. “Jah. I still have three weeks to go, too.” As she shifted again, she glared at her stomach. “I’m so big! Every time I’m sure I can’t get any bigger, I do. I’m going to be as big as a house soon.”

  Mattie giggled. “I don’t think quite that big.”

  “You still look pretty, Ella. Why, every time Loyal looks at you, it seems that his eyes get all soft and sweet.”

  “Loyal is a kind husband, for sure.” Sometimes she couldn’t believe she and Loyal were actually married. Though they’d known each other for years, they’d never been close. He, all blond good looks and charm, had been a favorite of most everyone. She, on the other hand, had preferred to remain hidden behind her glasses.

  Ella had been sure she would spend most of her life watching him from afar. But now they were married, and living on the land she was born on. And she was expecting his child! Wonders never ceased.

  “When do you stop working?” Lucy asked.

  “This Friday. I don’t work all that much, anyway. I’m down to fifteen hours a week. Mainly all Jayne lets me do now is read to the kinner.”

  They talked about all sorts of things on the way home. About their husbands and homes, about how big Timmy was getting. They talked about recipes they were trying out, and about life as newlyweds.

  More than once, Lucy and Mattie shook their heads in wonder about the path the Lord had taken them on. Lucy would
have never met Calvin if she hadn’t come out to help her cousin Mattie go through chemotherapy treatments for breast cancer. Now, here they were, both cousins and in-laws . . . and best friends with Ella, who had grown up next door to the Weaver boys, never imagining she might have the chance to join their busy family.

  Though Mattie tried to get her to go home and rest, Ella insisted on going to Lucy’s. She and Calvin lived with their husbands’ mother, Mary. Mary was so easy to be around, Ella knew she’d feel better in no time. “I want to help make cookies.”

  “It’s going to be noisy. Tim will be up and the men will be around, too. You should rest, Ella.”

  “I’ll lie down on the couch if it gets to be too much. I promise.”

  “All right,” Mattie said. “But if I start worrying about you, I’m going to tell Loyal.”

  “If you do, I’ll remember that and be sure to treat you like a child when you’re in the family way.”

  An hour later, Ella was wishing she’d heeded her girlfriends’ warnings. She was tired, and her back hurt even more than before. Even worse was the fact that her babe had begun to be even more active, which filled her with both wonder and pain, and the skin of her stomach stretched even more.

  She soon realized that lying down would only make her concentrate on her aches instead of allowing her rest. She stood up and stretched. “Mary, I’ll roll out cookie dough, if you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t mind a bit. Maybe being on your feet might help ease your discomfort.”

  Blushing a bit, she asked, “Have I been that obvious?”

  “Only to someone who’s had four children.”

  Waddling closer, she murmured, “Did standing up on your feet help you?”

  “Not really,” her mother-in-law said with a grin. “When I was expecting Graham, I had Calvin and Loyal underfoot. All I ever wanted to do was sleep.”

  Ella shared a look with Mattie. “We’re sure glad you suffered through with our husbands,” she said with a laugh.