The Survivor

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  Oh, he had.

  There it came again. A flash of memory. Recalling the glint of satisfaction that had appeared in his eyes before he left, Mattie felt her neck heat. A hint of wariness coursed through her as she remembered his touch. The way he’d held her in his arms.

  Right before he’d kissed her.

  Mattie lifted her chin. Deciding that her mother was asking too many pointed questions to be coincidence, she decided to tackle the conversation directly. “Mother, what exactly did you see?”

  After picking up a dark navy square her mother eyed it, then set it in her keeper pile. “What did I see? Nothing, of course. Your father and I were half asleep.”

  Mattie relaxed. For a moment there, she’d thought her mother had spied on her and Graham.

  “But I would be lying if I didn’t tell you that I heard his tone, Mattie.” Shifting until she sat comfortably cross-legged on the floor, she added, “He seemed terribly agitated. What was bothering him?”

  Mattie shook her head. She was still surprised by what had been on Graham’s mind—that she was seeing William. He’d been jealous. Well, until he’d kissed her and made them both forget everything . . . but how good it felt to be in each other’s arms. “Oh, you know Graham,” she said lightly. “What isn’t bothering him? He’s such a worrywart.”

  Her mother raised a brow. “A worrywart? Hmm. You know, I never really thought he was much of a worrier. No, he’s always seemed more of an easygoing sort of man to me.” After picking up two swatches of purple and pink, her mother wrinkled her nose. “I never did care for these. Here you go,” she murmured.

  Mattie took the fabric and set it inside the sack. “Well . . . he is. A worrywart, that is.”

  “Perhaps he can’t help it. Some people like to fret.”

  “I would agree with you, except he lets things bother him that aren’t any of his business.”

  “Such as?”

  Why do you always say so much? she chided herself. “Such as his brothers’ lives.”

  One of her mother’s eyebrows rose. “Why would he worry about them? I’ve never seen Loyal or Calvin so happy.”

  “They are happy. Which is why Graham shouldn’t be worrying,” she said lightly.

  Pitifully. Oh, but it was so obvious that she was fibbing!

  “Mattie, were you arguing about Jenna?” she said softly.

  “No. I know he did not father Jenna’s baby.”

  “I hope not. Her mother is so upset.”

  “As is Jenna. Mamm, they kicked her out of their house!”

  “I’m sure they’d welcome her back with open arms if she’d just tell them who fathered her baby. She’s been lying, Mattie. That is serious, don’t you think?”

  “Well, yes. I suppose.”

  “You suppose?”

  Mattie took the four pieces of black fabric and added them to the sack. Now it was almost full. Thank goodness! “I know her troubles are great, but I’d be the one lying if I acted like the world was ending over her pregnancy. There are much worse things to fear than gossip, or a loss of reputation.”

  Her mother stilled. “I suppose you are right. After all, we’ve been through worse. Much worse.”

  “Mamm?” she asked hesitantly. “Why do you think Jenna lied?”

  “I couldn’t guess . . .”

  “But if you had to?”

  Her mamm lifted one shoulder the way she did when she was at a loss for words. “Maybe the truth is too awful to admit. Maybe she thought Graham would be his usual easygoing self and not say a word. Or maybe she thought he liked her enough to offer to marry her, no matter what.”

  “I’m glad he didn’t.”

  “Mattie, the things you say.”

  “I can’t help it. Graham is one of my best friends. I hate the thought of someone trying to trap him into marriage.”

  Looking at her speculatively, her mother said, “I can see why you’d think that.”

  “But that said, I still do feel very sorry for Jenna, being tossed out like she wasn’t good enough. It seems terribly harsh to me.”

  “Mattie,” her mother said after a pause, “between you and me, I agree with you.”

  “You do?”

  She reached out and brushed her cheek lightly with two fingers. “Most definitely. Daughters are precious things. I would miss you terribly if you weren’t with me.”

  “I’d miss you too, Mamm,” Mattie said softly.

  Her mother got to her feet. “So now that we’ve talked about Graham . . . what are you going to do about William? Will you see him again?”

  “I suppose so. He’s planning to come over here tonight.”

  “What if he is not the man who God has planned for you?”

  “If he’s not, then I certainly hope He will guide me to the right man sooner than later. I want to begin my life again. I want to fall in love and get married and have a houseful of bopplis.”

  Her mother burst out laughing. “Oh, Mattie, but you do make me happy,” she said. “I promise, you will have all those things. As soon as you let our dear Lord have a chance. The way you go on, why, He hardly has time to work miracles.” She laughed again as she walked to the door.

  “I’m going to make us some lunch.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I finish cleaning up.”

  “Danke, daughter.”

  As she watched her mother walk away, Mattie thought about miracles. She held her hands to her scarred chest and wondered if she had the nerve to ask God for more than her fair share of them.

  After all, He had already given her one miracle—her health. Suddenly it seemed, after a mighty difficult journey, that she was starting to get everything she’d ever wanted. Her body was healing. Her relationship with her mother was smoother.

  And then there was Graham. She’d always known he was important to her. She’d certainly come to depend on his friendship. But maybe it was time to see if there was a whole lot more to their relationship?

  As she thought of their kisses, she felt her cheeks heat. Everything with Graham had felt so right. Why, one kiss had turned into two . . . then three.

  Now all she had to do was decide if taking a chance on an uncertain relationship with Graham was worth jeopardizing the friendship they had. Had God given her and Graham to each other because He knew their love was meant to be?

  Could it really be that easy?

  Chapter Eighteen

  As Jenna continued to organize packets for the new reading club Ms. Donovan was starting for a group of twenty senior citizens, she let her ear drift to the current reading group in the library. The preschoolers who came twice a week to hear Ella read.

  Today, they were reading If You Gave a Mouse a Cookie. This one seemed to be as popular as Ella’s other choices. At least a dozen children were scooted as close as they could to her; and each time Ella turned a page, they leaned forward.

  In other parts of the library, people often stopped what they were doing and observed the children watch Ella with pure joy on their faces. Whenever Ella read, Ms. Donovan said, you could hear a pin drop. Jenna figured that was no exaggeration.

  She smiled as Ella read the last line of the book, then set it on her lap. But still the children sat motionless, anxious for another word.

  “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid that’s all there is, kinner,” Ella said. “You can only give a mouse so much, you know.”

  Jenna grinned at the joke as she put another stack of cards together.

  On the floor in front of Ella, one of the little girls pulled on her skirt. “Couldn’t you read us another story, Miss Ella? Just a short one? Please?”

  Jenna bit her lip, wondering what Ella would say. Actually, she was half looking forward to another story.

  Ella shook her head. “Nee. I’m afraid not,” Ella said with a look of disappo
intment. “I’m sure your parents have places to take you.”

  More chatter followed as one by one the little patrons got to their feet and approached Ella for hugs.

  Then the mothers rushed forward, anxious to check out books and be on their way. Ms. Donovan signaled Jenna to leave the worktable and join her.

  One by one, Jenna stamped cards and helped Ms. Donovan scan the books. “Danke,” little Emily said.

  “You are welcome, Emily,” Jenna said with a smile.

  When the rush was over, Ella joined them at the circulation desk. “Well, I think I had better read that one again soon. They liked it.”

  “I think they like all the books you read to them,” Jenna said. “You are a wonderful-gut librarian.”

  “Indeed you are, Ella,” Ms. Donovan said with a smile. “The preschoolers and I took a vote and decided you are never allowed to stop working here.”

  Ella laughed. “Until Loyal says differently, I don’t think I’ll ever choose to stop. I enjoy it too much.”

  “It’s obvious,” Jenna said. “You glow when you’re with the kinner.”

  “They make me happy.” With a shy smile Ms. Donovan’s way, Ella lowered her voice. “To tell you the truth, I like too many things here to give up this job. For once, I feel like I belong.”

  Jealousy struck Jenna hard. With every day that she spent at Mary’s, it was becoming more and more apparent that she didn’t belong anywhere. Her parents and family didn’t want her, and Graham certainly didn’t. And though Mary was a gracious hostess, Jenna knew that she couldn’t take advantage of Mary’s hospitality forever.

  Jenna smiled tightly, then went back to her table and picked up the papers. It had been a silly dream, but for a while, she’d truly thought one day she and Graham would be married, too. And that she and Ella would be sisters. For a while, she’d hoped that was where she belonged. With the Weaver family.

  Of course, her lies had made almost any sort of relationship virtually impossible.

  To her surprise, Ella joined her, pulling up a chair. “How about you compile the papers and I staple and put them into folders?”

  “That’s fine.” Working in unison, Jenna picked up the stacks, straightened them neatly on the table, then handed them one by one to Ella, who in turn stapled and made a new pile. The work was easy, and in no time a rhythm developed as they worked together.

  After a bit, Ella glanced her way. “So, how are you feeling?”

  “Me? Fine.”

  “Truly? You are lucky, then. Poor Lucy is sick all day long.” A whimsical smile appeared on her lips. “You should see Calvin fuss over her. I tell ya, you would think no woman had ever been with child before! He constantly watches every move Lucy makes, and even bought her a case of fancy oranges.” She shook her head slightly. “Have you ever heard of such a thing?”

  Jenna smiled weakly as Ella continued. “We are glad for the both of them, to be sure. But we can’t help but smile at Calvin, ya know? My Loyal thinks his brother is mighty amusing.”

  “Yes. I can just imagine that.”

  As Ella stopped her stapling to give a preschooler who approached a hug, a fierce longing for some of Lucy’s attention burst through Jenna before she could tamp it down.

  Though she knew it wasn’t fair, Jenna privately thought Lucy’s terrible morning sickness most likely stemmed from being allowed to be sick. After all, she had someone who would care for her.

  Jenna, on the other hand, wasn’t nearly that lucky.

  When Ella returned to stapling, Jenna tried to move the conversation along. She shouldn’t punish Ella for her own misfortune. At least she had asked how she was feeling. “I was a little queasy at first,” she admitted. “But I’m better now.”

  “I’m glad of that. How far along are you? I mean, do you know?” As the question sat between them like an uninvited guest, Ella’s cheeks burned bright. “I mean . . . oh, I don’t know what I mean.”

  Jenna knew Ella didn’t have a mean bone in her body—she’d just been trying to make conversation. And the question wasn’t a difficult one for her to answer, anyway. After all, she knew to the exact moment when she’d conceived. “About four months.”

  “Ah.” Ella looked at her, then darted her eyes away. “I heard you are living at Mary Zehr’s.”

  “I am.”

  “I’ve always thought she was a kind woman.”

  “She is. She is terribly kind.”

  “So, have you seen Loyal’s uncle John?” Ella asked, her voice low and bright. “Loyal told me John fancies Mary something awful.”

  In spite of her mixed-up feelings, Jenna felt herself smiling. “I have, indeed.”

  “What do you think? Do you think Mary will have him? Do they seem like a good match?”

  “Perhaps.” As she thought about how confused she’d been, thinking about Chris, wondering about Graham, she shrugged. “I think love is out of their hands, if you want to know the truth. Things always seem to happen the way our Lord wants them to.”

  Ella grinned. “I think you’re right about that.” After making sure that Ms. Donovan wasn’t in hearing distance, she said, “At first, I just wasn’t sure what would happen with John; he seemed at loose ends. I’m glad things are better now.” After picking up the last two packets Jenna had put together, she stapled them quickly and stood up. “I guess I had better eat my lunch, then get ready to shelve books.”

  “All right.”

  “And Jenna?”

  She paused. “Yes?”

  “I know it’s hard, but please try not to worry so much. Everything will work out. It always does.”

  Jenna wished Ella’s words were true, but they certainly didn’t feel true. Though Ella had had her share of hardships, now she was married to Loyal Weaver, one of the most eligible and handsome men in their community. She had little to worry about. But as far as Jenna could tell, her own troubles were only beginning.

  But that wasn’t something she could tell Ella. Instead, she smiled bravely and tried to pretend that there was a light at the end of her tunnel. “Danke, Ella.”

  After another kind look, Ella squeezed her hand, then walked away—leaving Jenna to wonder if things would ever get better. Or if things would continue to only get worse.

  “Mattie?” her mother called out. “William is here.”

  Surprised to see him, she rushed to the entryway. “Hi.”

  “I happened to be nearby, so I thought perhaps you’d like to go for a walk with me. Want to go grab your coat?”

  Mattie paused. Took a closer look at him. William held his felt hat tightly in his hands. He looked happy to see her. And neat. But nothing like Graham.

  That’s when she knew.

  Nothing might ever happen with herself and Graham. Maybe they’d never be more than friends.

  But she knew for certain that there was nothing between her and William. “William, I thank you for the invitation, but I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Why not?”

  Oh, this was hard! “I don’t think we suit.”

  He looked flabbergasted. “We just haven’t spent enough time together. You need to give us a chance . . .”

  She walked to the door and turned the handle. “I’m sorry. I can’t help how I feel.”

  “I’m not giving up, Mattie. Don’t be surprised if I stop by again.”

  Now she was feeling a little irritated. “My feelings will stay the same.”

  “Feelings change. You’ll see,” he promised as he put his hat back on and left.

  Making her feel decidedly chilled.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Uncle John, Mamm is terribly excited about you becoming Amish soon,” Katie said as she skipped by his side down the sidewalk toward the Dutch Kitchen, a new restaurant that had opened just three bloc
ks from his donut shop. “Everyone is.”

  When he’d heard his sister-in-law was hoping to get some sewing done, he’d offered to take care of Katie for a few hours. It had been no problem. He really did enjoy the girl’s company. Of course, one never knew what she would choose to talk about. Lately, her conversations had been all about her books, Ella, and Lucy’s baby.

  He was a little caught off guard to realize she’d been thinking about him joining the church, too.

  “I’m excited as well,” he replied.

  “Are you scared?”

  Stopping, he looked at her curiously. “Katie, now why would I be scared about reaffirming my faith?”

  “ ’Cause it’s something you never did before.”

  “Ah, do you get scared of new things?”

  After a pause, she nodded.

  He really did treasure this little girl. Knowing she didn’t bring up anything without an ulterior motive, he asked lightly, “And what new things are you worried about?”

  “My new teacher.”

  “What happened to your old one?”

  “She had a baby.” Katie wrinkled her nose for good measure, making him laugh.

  “So who’s your new teacher?”

  “Miss Yoder.”

  There were at least three Yoder families in Jacob’s Crossing. “Do you know her first name?”

  “Nee.” She paused. “Mamm said I mustn’t ever call my teacher by her first name, anyway. So it don’t matter what it is.”

  “Perhaps you have a point there. Well, maybe she’ll be at church on Sunday and we can meet her then.”

  “Maybe. Do you think she’ll like me?”

  “Yes. If you’re a good girl.”

  “I’m always a good girl.”

  “Katie, I love you dearly, but even I know that is not the full truth.”

  Biting her lip, she nodded. “All right. I’m almost always a good girl.” Looking at him hopefully, she raised a brow. “Right?”

  “Very much so.” He laughed. “So when does your Miss Yoder start?”

  “On Monday.”

  “Your mother asked me over for supper on Tuesday. You may tell me all about Miss Yoder then.”