Jayne tsked. “Ella, you should have never quit. I want you to work for me for years.”
Though the motion hurt, Ella lifted her chin and looked Jayne’s way. “But Dorothy said that you were mad . . .”
“Dorothy lied,” she retorted.
Loyal leaned forward, claiming her attention with his caring gaze. “So . . . Dorothy found you when you were walking?”
“Jah. She looked embarrassed. She asked if I’d like a ride home.”
“And you went.”
“I thought she meant what she said. I thought she was going to apologize. But she didn’t.” She closed her eyes as more memories of that scary, horrible ride came floating back.
“Instead, she started driving the buggy away from town?” Loyal murmured.
“Yes. And she said all kinds of terrible things. Dorothy told me that I was a terrible person. And then she started driving faster and faster.” It all came back to her as she remembered the rain and the wind and the feeling of complete helplessness.
Like she was completely at Dorothy’s mercy. Like she was completely alone. She’d figured no one else would have known where they were. And no one would ever find them.
And though she’d prayed to God to help her, He hadn’t seemed to be listening.
“Ella? Can you tell us what happened next?”
“I’ll try. She kept driving that poor horse faster—and I kept asking her to slow down. And then a car tried to pass us, but another one was coming, and everyone veered to go out of the way.” Things were fuzzy then. “I just remember falling, and the buggy falling on top of me.”
Loyal cleared his throat. “That’s what we heard, Ella. That you have survived a whole buggy falling on you.”
Mattie smiled broadly. “I’m so glad you’re going to be okay. I’m going to nurse you! You can stay at my house. It will be wonderful-gut.”
Oh, she was getting so tired. Her lids were feeling heavy. With effort, Ella did her best to concentrate. “I . . . I thank you. Because I need to find some place to stay now. Dorothy kicked me out.”
All the people around her exchanged glances. The tension in the room rose. Graham murmured, “Loyal?”
“What?” Ella said. “What are you all not saying?” Suddenly, it came to her. So far, no one had mentioned how Dorothy was doing. Not the police, not the doctors and nurses, not even her friends. “Where is Dorothy? Is she in the hospital, too?”
Loyal shook his head.
Ella couldn’t have been more confused. “She didn’t get hurt? I could have sworn she flew out of the buggy before I did.” Desperately, she tried to recall that short span of seconds. But all she could really remember was Dorothy not being there when the buggy fell on top of her. “Did she really only get a few cuts and bruises?”
Mattie pushed her way to Loyal’s side and gently smoothed her hair back from her face. “It was worse than that.”
Loyal sighed. “There’s no easy way to say this. Dorothy, she died, Ella. Dorothy died in the buggy accident.”
She was stunned. And scared because she didn’t know how she felt about that.
She knew she should feel grief, but she felt relief that she had survived, too. Relief and sadness and confusion.
And right behind it, guilt. Of course she shouldn’t feel anything but sorrow. Closing her eyes, she turned away from her friends and tried to collect herself.
But instead of leaving her to deal with the shock by herself, Mattie edged closer and gently wrapped her arms around her. “It’s okay, Ella,” she whispered.
“Nee. It is not.”
“I understand. But please know . . . whatever happened was meant to happen. I promise! It was God’s will.”
Mattie had such conviction in her voice, Ella looked at her with wonder. “You truly think so?”
“It’s all I do know,” Mattie said, her expression sober. “God is with us, always. Even when we’re not with him. I’m proof of that.”
Ella clung to those words long into the night. Even after the nurses said good night and the sky darkened.
Even after she’d said her prayers and waited for some kind of peace to claim her.
Chapter 29
John followed Jayne out to the parking lot while everyone else made plans and talked with the nurses.
“Jayne? Do you have a minute?” he called out.
She turned abruptly. “Of course.” Looking concerned, she said, “Is something wrong?”
“No. Well, nothing else with Ella,” he corrected. “I just wanted to talk to you for a minute. I, um, I didn’t think we resolved everything between us.”
The eyes he was so taken with widened, then blinked. When she focused on him again, her expression looked carefully blank. “There wasn’t anything to resolve. All we had was just a date.”
He knew it had been more. There had been a real connection between them. He’d felt their tension, felt the awareness. Though he was clumsy around women, even he had known that she would have accepted if he’d asked her out again.
“The night when I came over for steaks—it was one of the nicest evenings I’ve had for some time.”
“I enjoyed myself, too.”
She gazed at him, waiting. And he knew she wasn’t going to let him off anymore. If he was going to stop her in the parking lot, she wanted an explanation. “When I left, I planned to ask you out again.”
“But you didn’t even call.”
His rudeness embarrassed him, and reminded him, too, of how different small-town life was than in the middle of the city. Here, you couldn’t avoid people by slinking into the shadows of crowds.
“I didn’t call because I realized that while I liked you, I also liked another woman.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Well. I guess I understand.” With a pivot of her heel, she turned away.
John rushed to her side. “I’m not explaining this well. At all. Listen, Jayne, it was like this. When I moved here, I met two women. You and Mary.”
“Mary.”
“You are who I thought I should spend my time with. I mean, Jayne, you’re the type of woman I used to dream of dating.”
The way she was looking at him, like she was trying her best not to roll her eyes, made him feel like a jerk.
He rushed on before he made an even greater fool of himself than he already was. “But I also liked visiting with Mary, too.”
“Wasn’t she special too, John?” Her voice was more than a bit sarcastic.
“She’s Amish.”
All the scorn in her gaze vanished in a heartbeat. “Really?”
“Mary’s Amish and is a widow and has a son. In short, she’s everything I shouldn’t want. I left the order. I don’t know much about raising kids. But every time I was near her, I found myself wanting to go back to my roots.”
“For her?”
He nodded. “And for myself.” While she looked at him, so untrusting, so skeptical, John forced himself to try to explain. “Jayne, I don’t know if you can ever forgive me, but please understand that this is why I didn’t call. It’s a poor excuse, but it’s the truth. I didn’t call you because all this time, I haven’t been sure about what to do.”
“What did she say when you told her how you were feeling?”
“I haven’t said a thing to her. I’ve just been waiting and hoping that the right words would come to me.” He looked back at the front of the hospital. “But Ella’s accident has made me realize that it’s wrong to keep waiting for the perfect time.”
“You know what? You’re right. You should go talk to Mary.”
“I hope one day you’ll forgive me.”
Her eyes sparkled. “John, I don’t expect to fall in love every time I cook a man dinner. I’ve only been upset with the way you handled things. I didn’t know what I did wrong.”
I
nstinctively, John knew she was more hurt than that. He knew she’d been expecting him to call, expecting them to go out again soon.
After all, he’d certainly insinuated that he would.
“You didn’t do a thing wrong,” he said. Realizing even as he said the words out loud that they were insignificant.
Pulling her keys out of her purse, Jayne looked at him closely. “Then it’s time you go do something right. Go visit with Mary. Tell her how you’re feeling.”
“You don’t think my visiting, or sharing my true feelings, will scare her off?”
“If she likes you at all, your visit will make her happy,” she said, her expression melancholy. “Besides, John, if she likes you at all, she has been probably been thinking things that I have. Wondering why you aren’t saying a thing . . .”
John watched Jayne leave. He was going to need to pay a call on Mary. Then and there, he was going to admit his feelings—and ask her some hard questions, too.
Such as if she only sought him out to help her son, or because she’d felt the same intangible bond that he did.
While planning his next step, and watching Jayne’s car leave the parking lot, Corrine, Mattie, Loyal, and Graham exited the hospital’s main entrance.
“John, sorry you had to wait so long,” Loyal said as they approached. “I wanted to talk to Ella’s doctor, but finding him took a while.”
“It was no problem.” He unlocked the truck and slid behind the wheel as the other three squeezed in beside him. “I needed some time to regroup.”
As Loyal followed his gaze, he patted his shoulder. “I reckon we all did, Onkle.”
“Mattie, only you would think Ella needed a completely fresh bedroom to sleep in,” Graham chided two days later as he carried out a second basket of laundry to the front lawn. “I’m sure Ella would be perfectly fine with the sheets that were already on the bed. Didn’t you say that no one had slept in that room for weeks?”
“Yes, but I wanted them to smell fresh.”
“I’m sure they smelled just fine.” He frowned for good measure. “All this is doing is taking up a lot of time.”
Men! Mattie knew she could spend the next hour telling him about how important it was for her to have a fresh room for Ella to sleep in—and he still wouldn’t understand.
But of course, she couldn’t chide him. He was giving up his whole afternoon to help her.
Though . . . he hadn’t needed to. “You didn’t have to help, you know,” Mattie replied as she bent into the basket and awkwardly pulled out a wet quilt. “I didn’t ask you to help.”
“Careful.” With a jerk of his hand, Graham pulled the quilt from her hands, expertly shook it out, and then competently pinned it on the clothesline.
Mattie watched in a combination of amusement and surprise. “I didn’t know you knew how to pin clothes on the line.”
“It’s not difficult,” he snapped.
“I didn’t say it was.”
Gently pushing her to one side, he pulled out a blanket snapped it, and pinned it up, too. “My mamm only had three boys,” he finally said. “No daughters—until Katie came along.”
“I know that.”
“Three boys equal a lot of laundry. And, well, there was no way either Calvin or Loyal were going to be seen putting clothes on the line . . .”
“Not if their little brother could do the work?” she finished with a smile.
“That is exactly right.”
“Graham, but you don’t need to pin up laundry here.” With every article he pinned up, his mood seemed to darken. What in the world was wrong with him?
“Yes, I do.” A note of iron entered his voice as he grabbed yet another pillowcase from her hands. “Mattie, you shouldn’t be doing any of this. You shouldn’t be lifting these heavy things. You could hurt yourself.”
“I’m all right now.” And she was. Didn’t he even notice how much better she was? “As a matter of fact, I’m fine.”
Graham’s eyes narrowed at that. But instead of arguing, he just kept working. “Anyway, like I said, I can put up laundry just fine.” As she stood with her arms over her chest, watching him move down the line to hang up a white sheet, he added, “Though, I also said that I don’t understand why you’re doing so much work. It’s just Ella.”
“That’s the kind of thing I don’t like to hear.”
“What thing?”
“That just-Ella thing. Graham, I’m afraid she’s used to everyone treating her like an afterthought.”
“Dorothy didn’t. Dorothy treated her like Ella couldn’t do a thing without her.”
“That’s not fair.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“Anyway, she needs someone to fuss over her. She’s been through a difficult time.”
“She has,” he agreed. “I’m glad she’s going to be all right.”
Picking up one last pillowcase, he neatly pinned the white cotton on the line, then picked up the basket and guided Mattie to a bench nearby. “Done.”
She turned and smiled at the sight. Two full lines were loaded down with sheets, pillowcases, and her mother’s beautiful star quilt. “It’s so warm out here, everything will be dry in no time.”
“It is hot.” He took off his hat and wiped his brow with a handkerchief. Mattie was just about to offer him a glass of lemonade when he turned to her. “Let’s go sit in the shade and relax for a moment.”
“You have time?”
“To watch the fruits of our labor? Definitely.”
“All right,” she said agreeably. She wasn’t in any hurry for Graham to leave, anyway. Besides the search for Ella, they’d been spending very little time together. Far less than when she’d been receiving chemotherapy treatments. Of course, she shouldn’t have expected anything different. Lots of people had seen him squiring Jenna around town.
He obviously had a lot to occupy him these days.
They walked to the shade of an old oak tree. On one side of it, the branches hung low and wide, creating a wide spot to sit under in relative comfort.
Since the ground was hard and dry, Mattie sat right down on the ground and leaned back against the trunk. Graham sat beside her. With her feet tucked neatly next to her, Graham kicked his legs out.
Above them, a squirrel berated them for disturbing his tree. Mattie chuckled as they watched him scramble to another tree, leaving them in peace.
The September day was warm. Though she hated to admit it to anyone, Mattie often did look forward to a nap in the afternoon. Her body seemed to be using all her excess energy to heal.
As the quiet settled in around them and the warm rays of sunshine warmed her skin, her eyes drifted closed.
After a few moments, Graham shifted and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, letting her lean into him. She yawned and let her body relax.
Mattie wasn’t sure how long they sat together, there on the ground, warm from the sun, secure in Graham’s embrace. Ten minutes? One hour?
No matter what, it felt like too short a time had passed before he spoke. “So . . . what do you think about Loyal and Ella?” he said softly. “Do you think they’re as serious as they look?”
“I don’t know.”
“Come now. Tell me what you think.”
As usual, their siblinglike conversations rejuvenated her. “I think they’re turning serious. They’d have to be. Otherwise, why would he have been so frantic?”
“True.”
“Now it’s your turn to talk. You’re Loyal’s brother. What does he tell you?”
“Nothing. Every time I ask, he shuts me up with a fierce stare.”
“And you let that stop you?”
“Pick your battles, you know.”
“Well, what does Calvin say? I doubt Loyal has the nerve to glare at him.”
Gra
ham grinned. “You’re right about that. He wouldn’t dare glare at our older brother.” He paused. “Of course, even if they did share information, it doesn’t necessarily mean that they’ll tell me anything.”
Enjoying their conversation, Mattie sat up and grinned. “But what does he tell you? Come on, now. Tell me some news, Graham.”
“All right. Calvin thinks they’re serious. He even thinks Loyal might ask her to marry him soon.”
Learning that bit of information drew a warm thread of happiness through her. There was something to be said for a happy ending. “That’s wunderbaar!”
“I suppose. I never imagined my brother falling in love with a girl like Ella.”
“I don’t think it’s a strange combination. I think they suit.”
“Perhaps. I know they both enjoy the house and the land. Though, I always imagined Loyal with someone different.”
“How so?”
“Someone more outgoing, for one.”
“I suppose you have a point there. Loyal is so outgoing and Ella is . . .” She struggled for the words.
“Not,” Graham said. “She’s as shy and awkward as Loyal is outgoing and polished.”
“Well, opposites do attract.”
“They do.” A secret smile appeared on his face, making Mattie suspicious.
“What are you thinking about? Who are you thinking about?”
He glanced her way, then right there before her eyes, Graham blushed. “Jenna Yoder.”
Jenna. “So you two are still seeing each other?” Oh, she hoped she sounded calm and collected.
“Some.” Bringing his legs up, he rested his arms on his knees. “We get along well,” he murmured. “Actually, Jenna seems to like just about everything I do. Unlike some people,” he said sarcastically.
“What is that supposed to mean? Are you talking about me?”
“Obviously. You’d say the sky was green if I called it blue.”
Stung, she got to her feet. “That’s not true.”
Grinning, he stood as well. “Perhaps not strictly true. But you have to admit, Mattie Lapp, we spar more than any two people I’ve ever met.”
The Protector Page 20
