Thankful

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  For the first time in, well, forever, she was actually going to have time to look at everything, too. The moment she entered the store and smelled the tantalizing combination of fresh balsam and cinnamon, she knew there was no better place to spend her free time.

  Until she realized that she seemed to be the only contented person in the building. Three policemen were there, and Mr. Graber himself was standing by the door with an extremely put-upon expression on his face.

  “Hiya, Jana.”

  “What’s going on, Mr. Graber?”

  “We’ve been robbed.” Pointing to the three policemen wandering up and down the aisles with his son, Mr. Graber said, “I walked in this morning to find the front window broken, glass all over the floor, and all sorts of things missing . . . including four quilts.”

  She was shocked by the thought of such a crime happening in Sugarcreek. “This is terrible.”

  “Jah. We’ve had the store a verra long time. And in all these years, nothing like this ever occurred.” He slumped a bit. “I have to admit that I’m a little bit at a loss of what to do. The police were gone, but now they’re back.” He rolled his eyes. “Still looking for clues or some such.”

  He looked so blue. “What can I do to help?”

  “Danke, but there’s nothing you can do. Unless you have any idea of who would do such a thing?”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t.”

  Mr. Graber slumped. “I figured as much. I guess we’ll just have to clean up, then wait and see what happens. And hope the policemen here do their jobs.”

  “They will. We’ve got a great police department here.”

  “You’re right about that. Well, I’d better go help our customers. Snow always means good business, you know.”

  Wondering how she could help, Jana glanced over at Adam Canfield, the chief of police. She knew him fairly well, thanks to his help when a couple of kids had decided to try their hand at dining and ditching.

  Adam was about the age of her eldest son, Nick, and was even-tempered and unflappable. He was a good man, and ever since he’d given those teenagers a good talking-to, he’d become a frequent visitor to the Sugarcreek Inn with his wife and young son.

  Adam was currently talking to Joshua Graber. But the other police officer was looking at her curiously. She figured the time was as right as any to introduce herself. “Hi. I’m Jana Kent. I own the Sugarcreek Inn. It’s a restaurant just down the street.”

  The officer glanced at her like she’d interrupted his business. “Can I help you?”

  “Maybe.” She tried to smile. “I, ah, was just wondering if you had any idea who did this.”

  “Not yet.” The expression in his eyes looked like it warred between impatience and amusement. “Usually it takes a bit longer than a couple of hours to solve a case.”

  His words, combined with the intense way he was looking at her, made her feel a little flustered—and wish that she’d thought to put on some lipstick. “No, I mean, is this the first robbery like this in Sugarcreek?”

  “It’s the first that I’ve heard about. I’ll double-check with the other businesses on the street, though. Sometimes little things happen that no one takes the trouble to report.”

  “Thanks. That would be really nice of you.”

  “Anytime.” He smiled politely, obviously ready for her to move on.

  And she knew she should. But there was something about him that made her stand there just a little bit longer. “I don’t think we’ve met. . . . Are you new?” When his brows rose, she rephrased her question. “I mean, are you new to Sugarcreek? I haven’t seen you around before.”

  “I moved here two months ago. After putting in twenty years with the Akron P.D., I took a part-time job here.” Somewhat dryly he added, “I’m supposedly transitioning into retirement.”

  Adam Canfield joined them. “Hey, Jana. Looks like you’ve met our new rookie?”

  She laughed. “I’m bothering him, it’s more like.”

  Officer Canfield smiled at the new officer, who looked old enough to be his father—or at least his uncle. “Jana, please meet Ross Capshaw. Ross, this is Jana Kent, owner of one of the best restaurants in town, the Sugarcreek Inn.”

  She waited for Ross to tell her friend that they’d just been talking. But instead, he held out his hand formally. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Kent.”

  “Please, call me Jana. I’m not married.” Immediately, she felt her cheeks heat. Why had she just said that? “Uh, I mean, I’ve been a widow for a long time now.”

  Officer Canfield’s smile widened. Just fractionally, but enough to make Jana painfully aware that she was practically making a play for Sugarcreek’s newest policeman right there in the middle of a robbery investigation.

  Gosh, was that what she was doing?

  Eager to sound more like she was making a friend than flirting, she said, “If you like pie, I hope you’ll stop by.” With a wink at Officer Canfield, she added, “Pie for police officers is always on the house. For their wives, too.”

  “Thank you,” Ross said, his gaze warming slightly. “I just might do that. And it’s just me. I’m not married, either.”

  She met his gaze again, felt that little tingle that she’d been sure had left her forever, and, well, stood there like she had nothing else to do.

  “So, what are you thinking happened, Adam?” Mr. Graber said, joining them.

  “It looks like some folks thought they needed some of your merchandise. And considering you don’t have an alarm system, they might have gotten away with it all.”

  “We used to have Josh living up above here. And my daughter lived here for a time, but now no one does.”

  Adam frowned. “This is just my opinion, but I’m glad none of your family was here. Sometimes the burglars can be pretty desperate. I would have hated for one of your sons or daughters to have frightened them into doing something stupid.”

  “I am glad no one got hurt, of course. But this robbery is a verra bad thing for me.” Mr. Graber’s face fell. “I don’t know what I’m going to tell those ladies who did all that quilting. Those quilts represented years of work, you know.”

  “Some of them were priced for over a thousand dollars,” Jana said. “I’m really sorry.”

  “Jah. Me, too.”

  Ross looked at Mr. Graber with renewed interest. “Amish quilts can go for that much?”

  “To be sure. They’re hand quilted, you see. Real works of art.”

  “Do you have any photos of them? Has anyone taken pictures of them, do you know?”

  “I’m not sure. We sure haven’t. Why?”

  “If we can find some photos, we might start hunting on the Internet. We’ve come across folks selling Amish goods on places like eBay and such.”

  Mr. Graber rubbed his long gray beard. “I’m going to have to do some thinking about this. I’ll ask my kinner if they recall anyone taking photos of the quilts. A couple of tourists might have, I suppose. Or maybe an English friend of one of the quilters?”

  “Come down and talk to us if you think of anything,” Adam offered. “Either Ross or I will stop by here in a day or two to see how you’re doing.”

  “Danke.”

  As they finished their business, Jana took a step back, realizing all of a sudden that her lonely mood had lifted. There was nothing like someone else’s problems to put your own into perspective.

  Promising herself to return to check on the Grabers in a few days, she edged out the door.

  “Jana?”

  Surprised, she turned to find Ross following her. “Yes?”

  “I ah, just wanted to say thanks for being so friendly. I’m sorry if I came across as a little gruff.”

  “You’re the one who was working, Officer. You don’t have to apologize for not having time to chat.”

  “It’s Ross.”

  “Ross,” she allowed, liking him more and more now that he wasn’t acting quite so distant. She was also extremely pleased that now she wasn’
t the only one doing the talking. “I’m sure I came across as a bit of a busybody. I promise, that wasn’t my intention. It’s just that the Grabers are nice folks. They’ve helped me out more than a time or two over the years.”

  “I see that now. So, are you off to the restaurant right now?”

  “I could be. May I offer you a piece of pie?” She smiled brightly. “Remember, it’s on the house.”

  “I’d really like that. I mean, if you have time.”

  “I have time. My place is just down the street. And I am certain we have at least five kinds of pie just waiting for you to choose from. Coffee, too.”

  His chuckle was deep and gratifying. With lighter steps than she remembered having in years, she walked by his side in the falling snow. The flakes were thick and beautiful, rapidly coating everything with a clean white blanket.

  It felt fresh and perfect. Lovely.

  And suddenly Jana realized that the day had never been brighter.

  chapter ten

  Christina had lived in Sugarcreek all her life, and had happily spent much of it outside, enjoying their small-town life and peaceful surroundings. She’d run through wide fields dotted with wildflowers in the springtime, trudged home after bonfires in the autumn, and spent many a summer’s evening watching birds with her Mommi. She had gloried in the late sunsets and taken many a moment to appreciate the beauty of a crystal-clear blue sky. She loved the area.

  But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t ever completely forget ten terrifying minutes spent on the skating pond when she was twelve years old. Since the accident, winter had become her least favorite season, and every time the temperature dropped, it brought back memories of shuddering in Aden’s arms while he carried her home. Each year, when the air turned cold and all her friends and family were anxiously awaiting the first snow, she would retreat into herself.

  She begged off from sledding and snowball fights and made sure she never had time to watch Treva try out her new ice skates. In short, she did her best to get through the winter, and did her best to get through it in silence, too. She was too embarrassed to have everyone know that she was still very affected by something that happened ten years ago.

  Actually, no matter what season, she avoided the pond like it held a monster in its depths. She could hardly look at any body of water without flinching.

  And now, here it was in the distance, practically mocking her. Practically coaxing her to stop, burst into tears, and beg Aden to take care of her.

  The weakness that threatened to ruin her independence was an irritation and a bother. And so many other things she didn’t even have words for.

  With each step closer to the pond, she took even more care to avoid looking at it. Anything to keep herself sane. “I see the farm in the distance,” Christina said, taking care to interject a positive note into her voice, hoping Aden didn’t hear the faint tremor that she couldn’t quite hide. “It won’t be much longer now.”

  Aden glanced her way, narrowed his eyes, then at last reached out, clasping her arm and pulling her to a stop. “Christina, being so close to this pond still scares you to death, doesn’t it?”

  She couldn’t deny it. But she didn’t want to dwell on it, either. “I’m fine.”

  “Nee. No, you are not.”

  She was trembling. But she preferred to imagine that her reaction was because she was exhausted. And cold. And anxious to sit down and eat about a gallon of soup. “I am well enough. Let’s keep going, okay?”

  His lips thinned, obviously finding fault with the way she was withholding the truth from him. “Christina, don’t lie. Not to me.” And although her chin was tucked and her face averted, he clasped his fingers around hers. “Does being near the pond still frighten you?”

  His voice was gentle and tender. So tender that it was tempting to admit just how bad her phobia was. But that wouldn’t solve anything. “Nothing’s wrong, Aden. I’m simply cold.”

  To her surprise, he didn’t release her hand. Instead, he tugged her a little closer. “You’re shaking.”

  “Because it’s snowing—”

  “Nee, that’s not it.” He moved a little more closely. Then, to her dismay, he clasped her other mittened hand. “What is it? Is it the memories? I didn’t realize it bothered you so much after all this time.”

  “I’m not bothered.”

  “Liar.”

  Only Aden spoke to her like this. “All right. I am bothered. I don’t like looking at the pond. That’s all.”

  “Have you ever gone ice skating again? Have you ever gone over there in the winter? For the life of me, I can’t remember.”

  She would give anything to not be having this discussion. “Aden, stop.”

  “You haven’t, have you?” he pushed. “All this time, you’ve been keeping your fears to yourself.”

  To her shame, her eyes began to water. She hoped he wouldn’t notice. She hated making him feel even more guilty.

  But he still stared at her face. Then he lifted one of his gloved hands to her cheek and carefully wiped away a tear. “Talk to me, Christina.”

  “What is there to say?” With her own mittened hand she impatiently swiped at another tear that threatened to spill. “I am still afraid. So what?”

  He turned his head and stared at the frozen pond in the distance. “So, it’s been a long time, Christina. Ten years.”

  “I know. I can’t explain it. I don’t mind being near the water in the summer.” Not too much, she silently added. “But when it’s covered with ice, I can’t bear to look at it.”

  “Oh, Christy.” Very carefully, he cupped both hands around her shoulders, holding her so she had no choice but to face him.

  And because she was essentially trapped, Christina looked into his eyes, mentally preparing herself for him to see the pain and the fear that was surely in the depths of hers.

  As always, she found herself thinking what an unusual shade of brown his eyes were. And then she noticed how filled with tenderness they were. The emotion was so unguarded, so clear, it almost took her breath away.

  Then he broke the moment. Letting go of her shoulders, he shoved his hands back into his pockets. “Come on,” he said. “We’re going to walk over there.”

  “Nee!” The word had been uttered loudly and with shame. But she couldn’t help it. She felt as if he were hurting her.

  Though, of course, he was doing no such thing.

  Grasping her hand, he gave her a tug. “I promise, it will be all right. Come on.”

  He was too strong for her to pull away from his grasp. Too determined to listen to reason.

  Her slight trembling increased tenfold as they drew closer. She clenched her teeth together so she wouldn’t embarrass herself and start crying in earnest.

  The border of the pond looked much as it had all those years ago. The far side was more built up, the side closer far more shallow. Four or five pine trees hugged the north side, where,in spring and summer, wildflowers and cattails decorated the edges, creating a home for all sorts of birds and animals.

  But now all she saw was a thick snowbank looming directly in front of her. Just beyond it was the expanse of ice. The thick falling snow had blurred the lines between land and ice, between security and danger.

  Though it made no sense, the closer they got to the ice, the more petrified she became. “Aden, I canna do this.”

  “You can. It’s time, Christina.”

  She hated how assured he sounded. How confident. And how oblivious he was to her fear. “I can’t believe you’re making me stand here.” She knew she was whining like a child, but she didn’t care. At the moment she was willing to do whatever it took to save herself.

  But Aden didn’t seem bothered by her outbursts one bit. His face was set in a determined expression and his tone was as easy and calm as she’d ever heard it. “I promise, I’m not going to make you get any closer. All we’re going to do is stand on the bank. No farther than that.”

  “Do you p
romise?”

  “I promise.”

  “If you lie to me, I won’t ever forgive you. I canna get on the ice, Aden.”

  “I won’t make you do anything but stand at the edge. I promise, Christy. That’s all.” And with that, he tugged her three steps closer.

  Though there was nothing in the air but snow, she felt her heartbeat quicken and her breathing turn shallow. She couldn’t have said a word if she’d tried.

  At last he stopped. They were just two small steps away from the frozen water.

  If they’d knelt down, Christina knew she could place her palm on the ice. Simply imagining such a thing made her feel sick. She tried to close her eyes, but that only seemed to spur on the memories.

  Aden slowly let go of her hand, then gently wrapped his arm around her shoulders. After the briefest of seconds, he gave her a reassuring squeeze. “Easy now,” he murmured. “Look at you. You’re doing real gut.”

  But she wasn’t. Perspiration dotted her brow, and her hands were shaking. As each second passed like an hour, her barely attained control faltered.

  Before even a full minute had passed, Christina jerked from Aden’s strong clasp. “I’m sorry. I canna do this. Not anymore.”

  Then she turned and ran.

  “Christina, hold on now.”

  Too afraid he was going to make her go back, she continued to run. In a panic, she scanned the area, looking for someplace safe to wait for him.

  She hurried over to stand next to one of the trees. It made no sense, but she figured she could grab ahold of the tree if Aden tried to make her walk toward the edge again.

  “Christina, I’m sorry,” he called out. “I’m so sorry.” After a pause, he walked over to stand beside her. “Are you mad at me?”

  “Nee. I know I’m being silly. But Aden, I really, really don’t want to go back to the pond.”

  After studying her face for a long moment, he motioned toward a dry patch of ground that had been shielded from the drifting snow by the tree’s branches and sat down. “You don’t have to. Let’s just sit here for a few moments. Okay?”