The Protector

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  Miss Ella’s lips twitched. “We could probably check out five.”

  “Or six?” she blurted, unable to help herself. She loved getting picture books from the library. She loved carefully writing the titles down on the paper.

  And she really loved when Miss Ella put special gold stars on her reading form. They were so shiny and sparkly.

  “Six?” Ella’s eyebrows rose over the gold rims of her glasses. For one second, Katie was sure Miss Ella’s eyes lit up before she turned almost stern. “I think not.”

  “But—”

  “It is never a good thing to be greedy, Katie. Don’t you forget that. Plus, there needs to be some bichah left for other kinner.”

  Katie supposed Ella was right. There did need to be plenty of books left for other children. “I won’t forget.”

  “All right, then. I’ll wait here while you pick out your books.”

  “It won’t take me long. I already know which ones I want.”

  Miss Ella’s lips twitched. “Take your time, Katie. When you get your books, I’ll check them out.”

  Katie rushed over to the children’s section. Though she was tempted to look at some of the new books by the bean-bag chairs, she pulled the ones she’d hoped to have and handed them to Miss Ella.

  With little fuss, Miss Ella scanned the books through a machine and put little cards in the book pockets. “Let’s go now, yes?” Ella reached down and held out a hand. Katie lifted her palm and clung to Ella’s hand happily. After saying goodbye to Ms. Donovan, they walked down the library’s steps and headed to the left.

  Holding Miss Ella’s hand, everything looked brighter and prettier. The patch of fall pansies were more purple, the bed of begonias looked as red as the brick on the courthouse.

  Katie began to skip, swinging Miss Ella’s arm as they walked down the sidewalk. She had to skid to a stop when an Englischer walked by with his Dalmatian; and then a group of English teenagers approached, all of them punching buttons on their phones and laughing.

  When one teenager smiled at her, Katie smiled right back.

  “Do you like living in town, Miss Ella?” she asked when they started walking again.

  “Today I do.”

  “Why today?”

  Miss Ella smiled. “Because it means I get to do two special things.”

  “What?”

  “I get to have a visitor, and it gives me an excuse to stop at the Kaffi Haus.”

  Katie wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like coffee.”

  “I didn’t imagine you would,” Miss Ella replied, obviously trying to hide a smile as she held out her hand. “But perhaps you would like a donut? They have all kinds there.”

  “You’re going to buy us some?”

  Ella nodded. “Of course.”

  Katie slipped her hand back into Ella’s. “Then I can’t wait. I’m hungry.” As soon as she blurted that, she winced. If her mother had been there, she would have scolded her, for sure.

  But Ella didn’t look mad at all. She just laughed. “I’m hungerich, too.”

  A warm burst of happiness floated through Katie. Some of the kids she knew were a little afraid of Ella. Ella was very tall. Almost as tall as the men. And her glasses made her eyes look too big.

  But Katie thought she was one of the nicest people in the world. She read all the good stories, and she had a merry laugh that seemed to make her whole body wiggle.

  Remembering how Miss Ella had stared at Loyal when he wasn’t looking, Katie began to plan. If Miss Ella was a part of their family, then Katie would never run out of books, because surely Ella wouldn’t put a limit on the numbers of books family members could check out.

  If Miss Ella married Loyal, then Katie could go get donuts all the time. And she’d have someone to laugh with, too.

  “I like being with you, Miss Ella,” she blurted.

  Ella laughed merrily again, making crinkly lines around her eyes. “And, I, Miss Katie, like being with you.”

  It had been a good day, Ella decided as she walked Katie up the front steps of her apartment. Ms. Donovan had complimented her work ethic that morning, and then, of course, there had been Lucy’s visit, with Katie in tow.

  “Feel free to tell me no, Ella,” Lucy had said. “But is there any way I could leave Katie here with you for three hours? Mattie has a doctor’s appointment today and everyone else has other commitments.”

  Ella hadn’t waited even a half-second to accept. “I don’t mind at all, though I get off at three o’clock today.”

  Lucy’s eyes widened. “Oh! I couldn’t ask you to stay longer. Don’t worry, I’ll just take her with me.”

  But Ella could only imagine how things would be at the medical center with Katie in tow. “What I meant to say was that I would be happy to take her home with me.”

  “I couldn’t ask you to do that . . .”

  “Whyever not? I’m happy to offer.”

  After glancing Katie’s way, Lucy finally nodded. “Danke. Let me go speak with Katie, then I’ll be on my way.”

  “Lucy, is everything all right with Mattie?”

  She bit her lip. “I hope so.” Moments later, after a quick hug and visit with Katie, she’d darted off.

  After getting Katie’s books, they’d walked down the street, got a snack for Katie, and visited with John Weaver. Then, after another three blocks’ walk, they arrived at her home.

  As Ella unlocked the door, she handed Katie the book bag she’d been carrying. “It’s now your turn to hold this,” she teased. “All of your books almost made my shoulder ache.”

  Katie’s eyes widened with worry, then when she saw that Ella was teasing, crinkled with glee. “Miss Ella, you’re funny!” she said.

  As soon as the door opened, she wrinkled her nose. “But your house smells yucky.”

  Stepping in, Ella had to agree. The air smelled thick and stale . . . like rotten food?

  But how could that be?

  Feeling thoroughly confused, Ella leaned down and stared hard at her tiny guest. “Katie, you stay by the door and keep it open for me, would you? I’m going to go in and open some windows.”

  “I’ll hold it way open.”

  As Ella stepped inside, her heart started beating quicker, right in sync with her spirits sinking lower. Once again, it was obvious that someone else had been in her apartment. Her knitting basket was on its side, the needles and yarn strewn in a knotted mess across the floor.

  The book that she’d checked out of the new release section of the library had been ripped in half!

  Tears burned her eyes. Now she was not only going to have to pay for it, but would have to tell Jayne that she’d somehow damaged a brand-new book.

  But when she took two steps farther into the kitchen, she saw the reason for the smell: the chicken dinner that Dorothy had made a week ago was sitting on the counter. Spoiled.

  Two flies buzzed above the rotten chicken, sticky noodles, and wilted salad.

  Ella pressed a hand to her mouth as she attempted to retrace what had happened. With a weary heart, she remembered taking a bite of Dorothy’s dinner, but not enjoying the flavors at all. It had been too salty, and all a bit rubbery in texture. In addition, Ella had worried that maybe the chicken hadn’t been all that fresh.

  Worried about possibly getting sick—and definitely knowing that the meal would not be enjoyed—she’d thrown it in the trash.

  But now, here it was, sitting on her kitchen counter on one of her plates—after sitting in a garbage can outside for two days!

  Obviously, only one person could have done such a thing. No, Ella corrected herself. Only one person had done such a thing: Dorothy.

  Pain, sharp and biting, rushed through Ella with as much force as a knife blade. She’d always praised the Lord for Dorothy’s friendship. She’d been so thankful when D
orothy had offered her this place to live, at such a reasonable price, too.

  But now nothing was clear. Surely there could be no reason for Dorothy’s actions except for pure hatred and spite.

  But what was even the correct way to respond? Ella wished she knew more about English laws. Wasn’t it against the law for Dorothy to do what she was doing?

  Was this something that she should contact the police about? But what if they laughed at her?

  And how would she even know where to contact them? She had no idea where the police station was.

  “Miss Ella, are ya goin’ to open a window?”

  “Oh, jah!” Quickly, she rushed to the window over the sink and pushed it up.

  “Did you figure out the smell?” Katie called from the door, bringing her back to the present. “And can I move yet?”

  What Ella wanted to do was curl up in a ball and cry. This violation of her privacy was terribly upsetting. For Dorothy to ruin a book and put that dinner on her counter, too—well, it was bordering on very scary.

  But in the forefront of her mind was her obligation to Katie. She’d promised Lucy that she would look after the little girl. And that promise needed to be kept, no matter what the circumstances.

  So for now, she’d put on a happier face and move on. And decide later what she was going to do about Dorothy.

  “Um. Of course, child. Come here. Come help me use this kitchen chair to prop open the door. Perhaps the breeze will air out the room.”

  After they did that, Katie looked at her with wide eyes. “Are you all right, Miss Ella? You look like you’re about to cry.”

  “That’s because I am,” she admitted. “But I will be fine. Don’t worry none.”

  Katie touched her arm. “Miss Ella? Are you mad at me? Are you sorry that I’m with ya? Because I talk too much?”

  The little girl looked so worried—her blue eyes so wide-eyed and frantic—Ella immediately got down on one knee and enfolded her in a hug. “Not at all, child. As a matter of fact, I’m terribly glad you are here. I need a friend right now.”

  Instantly Katie’s arms flung around her middle and hung on tight. “No one’s ever said they needed me before,” Katie whispered.

  “Well, I certainly do. Katie Weaver, your hug is exactly what I needed, right this minute. You’ll never know how very happy I am to have you with me right now.”

  With that, the little girl flung her arms around her once again. Unable to hold back her emotions any longer, Ella bent her head and wept.

  Chapter 20

  After working side by side with Abel for three hours, John came to the conclusion that it wasn’t masculine roughhousing or cutting up that the boy wanted.

  It was just someone to talk to.

  During their time together, the boy talked to John about his best friend and the girl he kind of liked, but wasn’t sure if she liked him back.

  John heard about Abel’s favorite food—tacos; and the dinner his mother was inordinately fond of cooking—chicken casserole.

  Through all the conversations, Abel washed down tables and swept the floor, taking directions easily, and doing his best.

  Remembering how surly he used be while doing chores, John was very impressed with the boy.

  About an hour before he was supposed to leave, John figured it would be a good idea to talk to Abel about things that were a little more serious. After all, John had a very good feeling that Mary was going to be asking him questions.

  “Abel, how about a soda?”

  “Do you have root beer?”

  “I do. Want one of those?” When the boy nodded, John popped the tops off two glass bottles, then sat down across from him at the table. “You did a good job today. I appreciate it.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Do you think this job is going to work out for you? If it doesn’t, you can let me know . . .”

  “No, I like it,” Abel answered quickly.

  “I like having you here.” John wondered how to skim around things, but there didn’t seem to be a real easy way to do it. So, he just dived right in. “I’m getting the feeling your mom is a little worried about you.”

  Abel paused as a new wariness entered his eyes. “She tell you that?”

  “Not in so many words. Is there something bothering you?”

  “Not really.” But something darker flashed into the boy’s eyes.

  “If you ever do feel like talking, I keep pretty good secrets.”

  Abel shook his head. “It’s nothing like that. I just miss having a daed sometimes. It’s awfully quiet at my haus.”

  “ ’Cause it’s just you and your mom?”

  Abel nodded. “People say she should have married again.”

  John tamped down the twinge of jealousy that rose inside of him. He had no right to be feeling possessive about Mary. But still, the idea of her keeping company with another man was difficult to swallow. “Is there someone special that she is interested in?” he asked lightly. Hoping that he sounded more nonchalant than he felt.

  “Nee,” Abel said quickly. “My daed, I hardly remember him, but he liked to laugh. Some of the men who like my mother are too serious. They’re always frowning.”

  “That would be hard.”

  Abel nodded. “But she needs to find someone pretty soon. I’m growing up, you know?”

  Ah. Maybe they were finally getting to the heart of the matter. “Are you worried about your mamm? Worried about her being alone?”

  “Kind of.” He paused to sip his root beer. “She would be sad to be alone the rest of her life.”

  John suspected she would be. After all, he had certainly been lonely over the years. “You’re pretty mature, Abel. Lots of boys wouldn’t be thinking about their moms like that.”

  He shrugged. “She’s my mamm.”

  John couldn’t help but smile as he stood up. “That says it all, Abel.” After glancing at his watch, he said, “Speaking of your mother, she’s going to be looking for you if you don’t get on your way. I’ll see you next week.”

  “Can I take the rest of my root beer?”

  “Of course,” he said softly. As Abel left, John realized that the tables had certainly turned on that conversation. Here, he’d hoped to give Abel sage advice, but instead, it was the boy who’d taught him a thing or two.

  No one wanted to be alone forever. And after almost twenty years, John knew it was past time to stop being afraid of relationships and to move forward.

  Ella’s front door was wide open when Loyal arrived at her doorstep a little after six in the evening.

  Beside him, Graham paused on the stairs. “Does she usually keep her doors open like this?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t been here all that much.”

  “Ah.” Graham’s tone was speculative, but there was a twinkle in his eyes that told Loyal he was holding a few thoughts to himself.

  Which made Loyal irritated. “Ella and I are merely friends.”

  “So you’ve told me. Many times.”

  As Loyal felt his cheeks heat, he wondered how else he could explain his relationship when Ella appeared at the door. “Hi,” he said, sounding awkward even to his ears.

  Her answering smile could only be described as shaky. “Loyal and Graham, hello. I didn’t know you both were going to pick up Katie.”

  “Katie’s such a handful, I thought Loyal might need a hand,” Graham said.

  “I am not a handful,” Katie announced, joining them on the front porch. “I’ve been helpful today, haven’t I, Miss Ella?”

  “Indeed you have.”

  Loyal watched Ella’s hand shake as she placed it on his little sister’s shoulder. Something wasn’t quite right. “Ella, why do you have your door open?”

  “Someone put bad food in here,” Katie said in a rush. “And that person r
ipped pages out of Ella’s book. And then ripped them in half!”

  Beside him, Graham stiffened. Loyal stepped inside. The room looked fine. He sniffed the air. It did smell a little sour, but nothing too horrible. Turning around, he faced Ella who was still standing at the door, half looking like she didn’t want to even enter her own home. “Ella, what happened?”

  A tear escaped her eye and traipsed down her cheek. Warily, she glanced Graham’s way.

  “He can be trusted,” Loyal said quietly. “I can promise you that.”

  After taking a deep breath, Ella spoke. “When Katie and I came home, it was obvious someone had been in here without my permission. Pages were ripped out of my book, and there was a dinner on a plate . . .” Her voice hitched and another tear escaped as she visibly tried to regain control of herself.

  “Take your time,” Loyal murmured, his heart aching for her.

  But his sister, of course, was not near as patient. “It was a really awful dinner. It smelled!”

  Ella winced.

  “Katie, hush,” Graham ordered.

  Loyal closed the distance between them and took her hand. Immediately, her fingers closed around his. “Your hand is like ice,” he said. “You need to sit down.”

  She looked around with a wary eye. “I know. I’m still half afraid of what else I’ll find.”

  “I’ll sit with you.” Once he had her settled, their knees touching and her hand still clasped in between his own, Loyal spoke again. “Tell me about the dinner.”

  “A few days ago, Dorothy had made me a dinner, but I never ate it. Because it was the evening we had the picnic.”

  “I remember.”

  “She had let herself in and put it in my refrigerator. Without me knowing,” she added haltingly. Pulling her hand from his, she clasped her hands together tightly.

  “She shouldn’t be coming in here without your permission,” Graham said as he sat in a single chair across from them.

  “That’s what I told Dorothy,” Ella said. “But she corrected me. Saying that it’s her home, and she was only doing me a favor.” She shook her head, as if to clear it. “Anyway, the food didn’t smell good to me, and the act behind it made me uncomfortable. So even though it was a waste, I threw the dinner out and put it in the garbage can outside. Today, when we walked in, I found the food. She’d taken it out of the trash and put it on a plate.”