The Protector

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  A shiver ran up Loyal’s spine. “This is all very disturbing, Ella.”

  She bit her lip and nodded. “I cleaned things up and then sat with Katie, wondering what to do.” Looking directly into his eyes, she said, “Loyal, I’m starting to feel afraid. I’ve never felt like this before in my life! Not even when I was home alone taking care of my mother who was dying.”

  Graham rested his elbows on his knees. Quietly, he said, “I think you should go to the police.”

  “For such silly things?”

  “Are they silly?” Graham countered. “Dorothy is entering your home without you knowing and going through your trash. In my opinion, this is verging on something darker than silliness.”

  As Loyal examined the lines of worry about Ella’s eyes, a fierce protectiveness built. “I’m inclined to agree.”

  “Maybe she’s merely sick,” Ella murmured.

  “What kind of sickness is that?”

  “I’m just not eager to get outsiders involved.”

  Loyal knew Ella was struggling with a great many things—with Dorothy, her new living situation, and even grief about her mother. Any one of those things would be a difficult burden. But altogether, they would be overwhelming.

  “How about you and I speak to the bishop? Perhaps he could pay a call to Dorothy?”

  “Could that be done?”

  “Certainly. And perhaps that would be more meaningful to her. All of us want to be good stewards of our church and of our faith. The only way we can do that is by following our rules and standards.”

  She exhaled. “I would like to go that route. I trust the bishop.”

  “Gut. Then it’s settled. I’ll set up the meeting and then we’ll go together.”

  She looked from Graham to Loyal. “What would I do without you two? Thank you for the advice and the comfort. I’m grateful.”

  When Ella treated him to a tremulous smile, he couldn’t help but reach out to her and clasp her hand. Her fingers were still cold.

  The only remedy was to wrap his other hand around hers. “Things will get better. I promise, they will,” he said, hoping this was a promise he’d be able to keep.

  An hour later, when they were almost home and Katie was sound asleep in the buggy, sprawled across Graham’s lap, Graham spoke. “Are you ever going to talk to me about Ella?”

  Loyal looked at him curiously. “It’s pretty much all arranged. You know that. I’m going to speak with the bishop in the morning and take Ella by to discuss things. Hopefully in a matter of days, Ella will be able to live with some semblance of peace.”

  “Loyal . . . I’m talking about your relationship with her.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yes,” Graham said with a hint of a smile in his voice, “ ‘Oh.’ ”

  Gripping the reins more firmly, Loyal guided their buggy around a parked car on the side of the road before continuing forward on the shoulder of the street. “Nothing specific has been discussed.”

  “But something is brewing between the two of you.”

  Loyal couldn’t deny that. He also couldn’t refute the confusion he was feeling about their relationship. “I’ve known Ella for most of my life, Graham. Why am I only now thinking of her differently? Why do I now care so much about her? About her feelings, about her happiness?”

  “Perhaps it’s God’s time,” Graham said after a moment. “Maybe the two of you weren’t meant to have a relationship until now.”

  Graham’s words made sense. Loyal firmly believed that the Lord watched over them, and that everything happened in His time. But he was still having trouble grappling with his feelings. He’d always imagined he’d become involved with a different sort of woman. A woman who was from a family like his, who’d had much of the same interests.

  Maybe that didn’t matter. What mattered was what was in a person’s heart. Still struggling to understand himself, he said, “Graham, do you think Ella and I are an odd match?”

  “Why would you ask?”

  “You know why. In many ways, we couldn’t be more different. She’s so quiet. I’ve never been that way. She’s been alone, independent for most of her life. I’ve always been surrounded by family.”

  “A person can’t help their circumstances.”

  “That is true.”

  “And people do say opposites attract.”

  “We are certainly opposite,” Loyal agreed. But what he wasn’t ready to share was that those opposites intrigued him. He was discovering that he didn’t want to be in the company of someone who acted just like him. Or who had the same strengths. No, he was now coming to realize that he wanted someone who was a little more introspective. A little quieter.

  Graham crossed his one foot over the opposite knee. “Yes, there’s a time and place for everything,” he said primly.

  Loyal mentally rolled his eyes. Graham was now spouting platitudes and clichés like an old woman. “Just tell me what you think. Tell me what you would do if you were me.”

  “All right. Truthfully? I never would have imagined the two of you together. But when you’re with Ella, she seems to glow. And all of a sudden, I don’t just see her glasses and notice how tall she is. I suddenly notice the spark of amusement in her eyes. And the kindness she shows toward others. And the way the two of you get along so well.”

  “So you think Ella and me might be a gut match?”

  “Perhaps. But it doesn’t really matter what I think, Loyal. All that matters is what you think.”

  “I don’t know . . .”

  “Loyal, nothing needs to be decided now, does it? You and Ella have plenty of time to figure things out, don’tcha think?”

  He looked at Graham in surprise. “You know, that’s the first thing you’ve told me that makes any sense!”

  “Hopefully it won’t be the last,” Graham said dryly.

  Chapter 21

  After Mattie and Lucy returned from the latest doctor’s appointment, Mattie sat down with her mother and told her the news. Another surgery had been scheduled.

  As she’d expected, her mother struggled with the doctor’s recommendation. Now her mother was wringing her hands so hard, Mattie feared they were about to fall off. “Oh, Mattie. I just can’t believe you’ve got to have another operation in two days. What are we going to do?”

  Mattie struggled to keep her voice steady and her expression neutral. Inside, however, she was doing the exact opposite. The doctor’s news had shaken her to the core.

  “We are going to need to remove this cyst right away, Mattie,” he’d said, his expression grim.

  “But it’s not cancerous, right?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She’d wanted to lash out at him. To tell him that after all the rounds of chemotherapy, she was supposed to be cancer free forever.

  But instead of offering her any words of encouragement, he’d just looked at Lucy. “Trish will come in and schedule Mattie’s appointment. Then she’ll direct you to the lab. We’re going to need more blood.”

  Mattie had sat there, fuming. Feeling completely ignored. Ineffectual. “But, Doktah—”

  He turned to her with sympathy in his eyes. “I am sorry, Mattie,” he murmured before leaving. “I will pray for you.”

  “Bayda?” she fairly yelped as he left the room.

  Lucy pressed a hand to her arm. “You’re speaking Pennsylvania Dutch, Mattie.”

  With some dismay, Mattie realized that she was. Which brought her into a deeper depression—usually, she always did her best to speak proper English with all the medical personnel. Speaking that way made her think she was on more even ground with them.

  For her to slip into Deutsch meant she was really rattled.

  And now it was all she could do to stay afloat as she tried her best to comfort her mother. “Mamm, we mustn’t get too concerned, jah?
We’ve been through worse.”

  After wiping her eyes, her mother straightened and attempted to smile. “Mattie, of course you’re right. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to burden you with my worries. Of course everything is going to be fine.”

  “I bet so, too,” Mattie replied. “I bet this is just a precaution.”

  “Definitely.” She clapped her hands. “We need only to keep busy and not dwell so. God didn’t bring you this far for no good reason, ain’t so?” She rubbed her hands on the skirt of her dark gray dress. “I know! I think we should make ice cream. Don’t you? It’s the only thing that will cool us off on such a hot day. What flavor shall we make?”

  “Vanilla?” Mattie blurted.

  “That’s what I was thinking, exactly.” Reaching out, she grasped Mattie’s hand.

  Her mother’s hand was cold. Cold with fear, Mattie assumed. Exactly the way she felt, too.

  Even so, they looked at each other and smiled before heading into the kitchen to begin their task.

  Both pretending that neither was worried at all.

  Bishop Howard stared so hard at Ella, she could practically feel his piercing gaze burn into her skin.

  “These things you’ve told me are hard to believe,” he said quietly.

  Though her palms were sweating, she looked right back at him. “I know.”

  “But they are the truth,” Loyal spoke up. “I’ve witnessed much of what Ella is telling you.”

  “Oh, I believe you, Ella. I’m just greatly disturbed.”

  Pure relief filled her as she looked at the man who’d done so much for her mother. He’d visited their house almost daily at the very end of her mother’s life. For that, Ella would always be grateful. “I haven’t known what to do. Dorothy has been a good friend to me. But these things she’s done . . .”

  Her voice drifted off as she tried to find the words, the right words to convey her sense of worry and loss. “These things she’s done have begun to make me feel afraid,” she finally said. “Last night I could hardly close my eyes. I don’t feel safe. I don’t want to hurt Dorothy, but I also am starting not to trust her.” Finally, she added, “Quite simply, I’m at a loss of what to do now.”

  “I’m glad you came to speak with me. I’ll pray on this and then will visit with her.”

  “See, Ella, you are not alone,” Loyal said, his voice full of encouragement. “Together, we will all help you. I promise.”

  After a few more minutes of conversation, Ella left the bishop with Loyal at her side. Though the day was warm, Ella was glad to stretch her legs. And for the time to visit with Loyal. Earlier, they’d also walked together, from Loyal’s farm to the bishop’s home.

  “Do you feel a little better?” he asked.

  Glancing his way, she found comfort in the honest look of concern in his eyes. Suddenly, she realized that she wasn’t alone, carrying these worries.

  Loyal—along with God—was right there with her and wasn’t going to give up on her, either. “I do,” she said softly. “Though nothing’s been decided, I was grateful to share my burdens.”

  “Don’t make it a one-time thing, Ella. My shoulders are broad enough to carry your worries.”

  As Ella thought about how much he’d gone out of his way for her over the last few weeks, she glanced his way again. “Loyal, I want you to know . . . that I truly feel grateful to you. Over and over, you have done so much for me. And you didn’t have to do any of it.” Privately, she wondered why he had. After all, she had nothing to give him in return.

  “I haven’t done all that much. Just encouraged you to talk to some people.”

  “I wouldn’t have spoken with the bishop if not for you.”

  “Maybe not today, but eventually you would have.”

  “You sound so certain. Why?”

  “There’s a strength in you, Ella. A strength that shows you are used to being independent. You are a formidable woman.”

  He was smiling, and before she knew it, she was smiling, too . . . at the image. She, Ella Hostetler, a formidable woman? How could that be?

  Usually she was always the one person who tried to blend in with the wall, not assert her will. “I’ll take your words as a compliment.”

  “You should! You are a remarkable woman. And helpful, too.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, you’ve helped us with Katie.”

  “Katie? That was no trouble. Katie is a dear. Such a joy.”

  “Such a handful,” he corrected with a laugh. “We love her very much, but she has her moments that try my patience.”

  “As do we all.”

  Loyal blinked. “You’re right. My brothers and I like to tease about Katie, but above all, we are always grateful for her.”

  “Oh, I know that. As for Katie, I have a feeling that she just wants some attention,” she murmured, thinking for a moment of her own childhood. She’d loved her family dearly and had never minded being an only child. She’d simply accepted it as the way it was.

  But sometimes, when she’d looked at her parents and witnessed a look pass between them, she’d feel left out. Like the proverbial third wheel.

  And in her awkwardness, she’d attempted to be a little louder to get their notice.

  But, of course, her noise and fussing hadn’t created the results she’d craved. Actually, all that had happened was she got sent to her room.

  In no time, Ella and Loyal reached the farm. Unable to stop herself, she scanned the yard, looking for changes. There were many.

  “You’ve been busy,” she said. “Why, you’ve whitewashed the barn and weeded all the flower beds.”

  “I’ve been making my brothers come over to help.” Looking as eager as a child, he stepped toward the front door. “Would you . . . I mean, do you want to see how the finished floors turned out?”

  “Of course.”

  He held the door open as she walked inside. But the moment her foot touched the smooth planks, now stained a dark cherry red, she couldn’t contain her gasp. “Oh, Loyal, everything looks so different!”

  “It’s the floor . . .”

  “Look how much whiter the walls are!”

  “I painted those, too.”

  She turned, noticed that the curtains that her mother had made for the kitchen had been taken down. Now only shiny white window frame and a clean, bright window appeared over the sink.

  “The curtains are gone.”

  “Yes,” he sputtered. “They were pretty, but not really to my taste.”

  She’d always thought those curtains were ugly. Actually, she’d never seen the need for them in such an open house surrounded by land. “Whose taste do you think they were?” she asked, doing her best to keep her expression earnest and thoughtful.

  Right in front of her, Loyal looked positively tongue-tied. “Well, I don’t know—”

  Feeling sorry for him, she pressed her hand to his arm. “I’m teasin’, Loyal. I never liked those curtains.”

  “Truly?”

  She nodded. “Truly.”

  “Whew. It’s nerve-racking, not knowing how to act. I want to show off the changes, but I don’t want to hurt your feelings.”

  “Loyal, I’ve told you that I would’ve liked to have made changes. I just wasn’t able.”

  “Yes, but those changes were your ideas, not mine.”

  “I like your changes. I promise.” With a bit of a shock, she realized that she still held her hand on his arm. And that she was standing too close to him.

  Her eyes widened. Just as he slowly reached out and held her waist. Not hard. Gently. To hold her in place.

  Her breath hitched. No man had ever held her before. And now she couldn’t imagine another man’s embrace ever feeling so right.

  Their eyes met. His eyes flickered. A new awareness entered in them, and it ha
d nothing to do with pity or worry or being a protector.

  It all had to do with being a man and a woman together and the awareness that came from being alone. It had to do with attraction and desire and all the things she’d dreamed about but had at times resigned herself to thinking that those things might never happen for her.

  Loyal swallowed. Ella found herself watching the muscles in his neck shift and move.

  Noticed a faint band of perspiration on his brow.

  And for just a split second, she imagined stepping closer to him, finally kissing him. The two of them declaring their love.

  All such foolish, foolish things.

  With a start, she stepped back. “I should probably get on my way.”

  Loyal mirrored her movements, stepping back, too. “Oh. Yes. Of course. I’ll take you back right now.”

  She turned and walked out in a rush, feeling her cheeks heat, her feet stumble.

  Because all she wanted was to feel his touch again. To feel, for one more moment, that she was a woman. A pretty woman. Worth his time.

  Worth everything.

  Chapter 22

  “So how is Jenna? How was your time at the arts-and-crafts fair?” Mattie asked, feeling proud of herself. Why, she sounded truly concerned and interested. Terribly friendlike.

  Graham shrugged as he stretched his legs in the back of the van. He’d elected to go with her to the doctor when Lucy had bowed out suddenly, saying she’d caught a bug and wasn’t feeling too well.

  Though Mattie hadn’t minded going alone, she would be lying if she said she wasn’t thankful for Graham’s companionship.

  “Jenna is fine. She seemed to enjoy the craft fair.”

  “That’s all the information you’re going to share? Come on, Graham. Surely even you can spare me a few more details!”

  “Even me?”

  “You, Graham Weaver, are notoriously closemouthed.”