The Protective One

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  “You don’t think so?”

  “Nope. Only that you two are going to be having sex.”

  His eyes popped open. “I can’t believe you said that.”

  “I can’t believe you didn’t, Mr. I’m Eighteen.” Will lowered his voice. “I hate to sound like our parents, but I’d be surprised if they didn’t worry about that.”

  “I respect Lilly.”

  “Come now. You know what happened with Kyle Lambright. He and Gabby rushed things and now they’re married with a baby on the way. Things can happen in an instant.”

  His brother’s cheeks were flushed with embarrassment as he rolled off the bed and started pacing. “I don’t want to go to Florida to have sex, Will. If that was all I wanted, Lilly and I could be doing that around here.”

  Will grinned. “There you go.”

  Jake stopped and stared. “There I go what?”

  “When Mamm and Daed start saying things like that, that’s what you need to do. Tell them what you just told me.”

  His brother sat up a little straighter. “I will. Danke.”

  “You’re welcome. Now get off my laundry. I need to put it away and take a shower.”

  “Why? What are you doing tonight?”

  “Going over to see E.A.”

  “So you really are courting her.” Jake waggled his eyebrows, which was truly a bit too much, in Will’s estimation.

  “We’re just friends. Don’t make it into something it ain’t.”

  “Uh-huh. And I’m ‘just’ friends with Lilly. I’m not that naive.”

  “What is there to be naive about?”

  “I’ve heard about you kissing her on her front porch.”

  “Who told you about that?”

  “E.A.’s sister told J.P.’s sister, who told Lilly, who told me.”

  “Sounds like you all need to go to Pinecraft just so you won’t be sitting around gossiping about me.”

  Jake grinned as he stood up. “That’s another good reason! I wonder if Mamm and Daed will let me go if I tell them that one.”

  “Don’t you dare start talking to them about E.A. and me … They’ll never let it go.”

  “Jah, that is true,” Jake said over his shoulder as he walked to the door. “But if they don’t, then that means they won’t be as focused on me being in Pinecraft.”

  As his brother’s parting words echoed in his ears, Will gaped at the open door. Somehow, his brother had just neatly turned the tables. Now he was acting like the self-assured and older brother.

  Will, on the other hand, was starting to feel like he was now the foolish teenager, anxious to prove himself but too embarrassed to be honest about his feelings.

  He hoped that wasn’t the case.

  What if he was messing everything up with him and E.A. simply because he wasn’t ready to admit what was actually happening between them?

  That they’d actually become a couple, and maybe had been for quite some time.

  And he’d simply been too blind to see it.

  THIRTEEN

  “For those of you who don’t know the Eight real well, I think it might be helpful to learn that none of us were unfamiliar with English schools. That said, we did get terribly lost.”

  As they got cups of coffee together after church at McDonald’s, one of the few places in the area that was open on Sundays, Marta’s good friend Elaine asked, “What are you working on in your sewing class, Marta?”

  Though their restaurant of choice wasn’t too fancy, that was okay. Coffee with Elaine was one of Marta’s favorite parts of the week. Not only did she love going to church on Sundays, but she also enjoyed the chance to visit with Elaine without Alan nearby. Alan always chatted with two of the men from work after services. He liked using the time to strengthen his relationships with the men at work and always, always told Marta never to bother him when he was with them.

  Other times, Alan got suspicious when Marta spent time with Elaine and made her tell him exactly what they’d talked about.

  After adding a spoonful of sugar to her own cup, Marta shrugged. She loved her old friend but knew better than to reveal anything too personal. Elaine told her husband everything—and he, from time to time, shared whatever he learned with Alan.

  “My sewing class has been going great. I’m not working on anything too exciting, just a pillowcase right now,” Marta lied. In fact, her backpack was coming along nicely. But she was afraid to let anyone besides Elizabeth Anne know she was making it. She had too much depending on its secrecy.

  As she hoped, Elaine wasn’t too impressed. “A pillowcase doesn’t sound very exciting.”

  “I suppose it’s not.”

  “When do you get to start making something more interesting, like some clothes?”

  She chuckled. Now, at least, she could be honest. “Not for a while, I fear. I’m still trying to get the hang of sewing straight seams.”

  “Boy, sewing sounds harder than I thought.”

  “Believe me, it is. But I am enjoying it.” They walked over to a small sitting area. After exchanging pleasantries with several other women, they sat down in a pair of chairs. “I never thought I’d take up sewing at thirty, but I love learning something new.”

  “I should take up a new hobby, too. Do you think I’d like to learn to sew?”

  Marta looked over Elaine’s designer outfit. She had a feeling that the bright polka-dotted skirt alone cost more than Marta’s whole outfit. “I think you should stick to shopping.”

  Looking down at her outfit and pocketbook, Elaine smiled. “I think you’re right. I have a lot of fun buying clothes. I don’t think I’d feel the same way about a bolt of fabric.”

  “You might appreciate a shopping trip to Nordstrom in Columbus a lot more than creating a well-finished seam at Sew and Tell.”

  Elaine grinned, though her smile faltered when she scanned Marta’s simple outfit. “You know what? We ought to go shopping together one day soon and get you a couple of new things.”

  Looking down at her simple white blouse and black slacks, Marta frowned. “Why? Did I spill something on my shirt?” She hoped not. Alan would be so embarrassed.

  Elaine quickly backpedaled. “No, not at all. It’s just that you aren’t dressed for the weather. It’s going to be near a hundred degrees out today and you’ve got on long sleeves and slacks.” She smiled encouragingly. “We could find you some pretty sleeveless blouses in bright colors. They’d be far cooler and add some color to your cheeks.”

  Yes, they would be far cooler. But that wasn’t going to work for her. She needed sleeves to cover up her many bruises.

  “I’m not hot,” she lied. “The blouse is loose and cool.”

  “The slacks seem loose, too. Have you lost weight?”

  “Maybe. I’m not sure.” Again, that was another lie. She knew she’d lost weight, but that wasn’t a surprise. Now that she was actually thinking about leaving, she was a nervous wreck.

  Elaine smiled again, but this time the warmth didn’t reach her eyes. Concern was etched there instead. After glancing around to see who was in hearing distance, she leaned close. “Marta, we’ve been friends for quite a while now.”

  “Years and years.” Even though Marta and Alan had only moved to Walnut Creek recently, she and Elaine had grown up together near Wooster. It had been a blessing when Elaine’s husband had become one of Alan’s clients. “Sometimes it’s hard to believe that we used to be little girls living next to each other on our farms.”

  “I think a long friendship like ours means we can be completely honest with each other, right?” Elaine asked.

  Marta nodded hesitantly. They’d both been children of modest farmers. They’d grown up living simply, both of them being first-generation English girls, since their parents left the Amish in their twenties.

  They’d had so many things in common back then. Their relatively old-fashioned names, the parents who spoke as much Pennsylvania Dutch as English. They’d both felt slightly left out when
their classmates talked about computer games and television shows and bands they liked.

  Then, right as they graduated high school, everything between them changed. Elaine had gotten a full scholarship to Wooster and went to study hospitality and restaurant management while Marta had ended up doing research for a number of clients.

  Two years later, Elaine had started dating Barrett right around the same time Marta had gotten engaged to Alan.

  Months later, Barrett had proposed to Elaine. All their friends had teased them about being such good friends that they had gotten engaged at the same time. However, that was where their similarities ended. Marta had loved Alan but was slowly becoming aware of some of his idiosyncrasies and controlling nature. She’d spent many restless nights wondering if she was making a mistake.

  Elaine, on the other hand, had been head over heels for her man—and bubbly about their plans together.

  They’d been each other’s maids of honor … and then had drifted further apart.

  They’d both given the praise to the Lord that Barrett’s work had brought them to Walnut Creek and he was one of Alan’s clients—and that they belonged to the same church.

  So, though there were many reasons for Marta to trust Elaine completely, Marta knew better than to trust anyone with the truth about her life.

  But that didn’t mean she wasn’t good at pretending that she was content. Leaning back in her chair, Marta said, “Of course we can be honest with each other. Is something the matter?”

  “Not with me, Marta.” Her eyes darted across the room.

  Marta knew Elaine was gazing at Alan. And though her back was to him, she could practically feel his irritation tingle at the back of her spine.

  She needed to stop this immediately. If Alan thought she was talking about him, thought she was sharing any secrets about what really went on in their house, things might get so bad she would never be able to leave again.

  She sat up straighter. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Elaine didn’t crack a smile. Lowering her voice, she said, “I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

  “Even if I did—which I don’t—this isn’t the time or the place to discuss it.”

  “There is no other time. You never want to meet for lunch. You don’t even want to drive over to my house anymore.” Elaine leaned closer. “Come on, Marta. You know I’m worried about you.”

  If Alan hadn’t noticed them chatting seriously before, he surely did by now. Marta stood up and pushed away every bit of softness in her voice. “I’m worried about you, too. I thought we were friends.”

  “We are, Marta.” Standing up as well, Elaine pressed her hand on Marta’s forearm, right where a particularly bad bruise lay under her shirt’s fabric.

  Marta tried hard to not flinch but failed.

  Elaine noticed. Immediately, she lifted her hand. “We are good enough friends to share everything,” she said, her voice rising. “You know we are.”

  A group of women standing a few feet away glanced at them curiously.

  This was horrible. They were causing a scene. This conversation had to end now. Marta had too much to lose. Stepping back, she smiled grimly, hoping that she didn’t look as awkward as she felt. “Nee, Elaine,” she murmured in Deutch. “We canna talk about this.”

  “We can. But if not to me, then talk to someone. Please, Marta.”

  “Believe me when I tell you that this is something I can never talk about.” Marta hardened her voice. “Not ever.”

  “But—”

  “If you want to stay friends, you have to drop this. And promise never to bring it up again.”

  “I think you’re making the wrong choice,” Elaine said. “I think you know it, too.”

  “Nee—”

  “What wrong choice are you making, darling?” Alan asked right behind her shoulder.

  His voice was warm and slick. Stuffing a fisted hand in the pocket of her slacks, Marta rolled her eyes. “Elaine was just telling me that I shouldn’t be buying steaks from the grocery store,” she improvised quickly.

  His eyes narrowed. “That’s what you were discussing? Where you shop for beef?”

  “I know. It’s silly, but that’s what happens when two farm girls get together,” she said quickly. She could practically feel Elaine’s look of disapproval resting on her.

  Desperate, Marta lifted her eyes and met Elaine’s gaze.

  Don’t say a word, she said with a look. Please don’t.

  Elaine’s expression pinched. But after a second, she chuckled. “Yep, that’s exactly what happens,” she replied. “I was just telling Marta that Barrett and I have been getting all our meat from the butcher in Berlin. It costs more, for sure, but the beef is better and without any harmful additives.”

  Alan narrowed his eyes before shrugging. “We’ll have to give that butcher a try, won’t we, Marta?”

  “Of course, Alan. Whatever you want.”

  He smiled at her, but his eyes were still cool and calculating. “Well, I don’t want to leave, but I think we’d better.” He slid a hand down Marta’s arm and then squeezed where her bruises were the worst. “Don’t you think it’s time, dear?”

  “Of course,” she said through gritted teeth. “But I need you to release me, Alan. My pocketbook is on the chair.”

  He lifted his hand and stepped away.

  They both knew that his job had been done. He’d reminded her again of his power, though it hadn’t been necessary. She never forgot just how much of a hold he had on her—physical or not.

  After getting her purse, Marta walked back to his side. “I’m ready now,” she said, smiling up into his face.

  When he started walking, she stayed by his side, doing her best to ignore Elaine’s troubled expression and some of the other women’s questioning looks. Instead, she did what she always did: thought about something better. This time, she allowed her mind to concentrate on the little backpack she was almost done making.

  And the back door to the shop that she’d discovered during the last class. It led to an alley. Maybe one day soon she would actually get up the nerve to trust someone to help her. If so, he or she could be waiting for her in the alley, and she’d be able to drive away.

  Someplace so far away, Alan wouldn’t be able to find her.

  FOURTEEN

  “That’s how we ended up in a third-floor science lab. Unfortunately, it didn’t explain why Katie decided to open up the cage of mice.”

  THURSDAY

  “There you go,” E.A. murmured encouragingly to Marta, though she wasn’t sure if her student heard her or not. “You’re doing just fine.”

  “I don’t know about that. I seem to be all thumbs today,” Marta said.

  It was true. Marta’s hands were shaking as she threaded gold cord through the opening of the backpack. Shaking more than usual. Threading cord could be an exasperating chore for certain. But her student seemed to be upset about something more than the task at hand.

  When it looked as if she were about to dissolve into tears, E.A. intervened. “Marta, perhaps you should take a break, jah?”

  “No. I need to get this done.”

  “Yes, but we’re not on a time limit, right?” When Marta didn’t so much as crack a smile, E.A. lightly touched her hand. “Forgive me, but I think it’s obvious that you aren’t yourself today. What is wrong?”

  Her student jumped at her touch. “Nothing.” Looking suddenly fearful, Marta glanced at the door. “Why do you ask?”

  If Marta had been a good friend, especially one of the Eight, E.A. would have teased her a little bit. Honestly, Marta was looking so jumpy, she could have named a dozen different clues to give credence to her concern.

  But she wasn’t a good friend and she also seemed so skittish that E.A. was beginning to fear that she would inadvertently upset her so much that she would burst into tears.

  “You seem worried today.” Though she couldn’t imagine why a si
mple sewing project would cause Marta to get so upset, she said, “The thing about sewing is that any mistake can be easily fixed. It might take time to pull stitches out, there might even be some snags or imperfections in the fabric … but nothing can’t be undone. Besides cutting the fabric, of course.” She smiled encouragingly.

  Marta released her death grip on the cloth at last. Looking ashamed, she murmured, “Elizabeth Anne, I really am sorry. I guess I have been jumpy today.”

  “You certainly have. Almost as jumpy as a bullfrog,” E.A. teased.

  But instead of smiling at E.A.’s joke, Marta looked even more upset. “I … I well, I have something on my mind.”

  “Do you want to end early?” They only had another twenty minutes of their class, after all.

  “No. I need to finish this.”

  She’d said need instead of want. E.A. felt a new burst of worry skitter up her spine. Something was really wrong. Both of Marta’s hands were gripping the edges of the pack so tightly that E.A. knew she was going to have to iron the fabric before they did the next step.

  “Let me show you something.” She carefully took the backpack from Marta’s hands and placed it flat on the countertop. “Do you see how easy it is to find the safety pin at the end of the cord?” When the other woman nodded, E.A. murmured, “I’ve found that if you simply move the pin with the edge of your finger in a slow, steady motion, like so, it moves rather easily.” She demonstrated.

  Marta was watching so intently, one would think her life depended on it. “I was fighting the fabric, wasn’t I?”

  “ ‘Fighting’ seems a little strong. I think you were simply eager to get it finished.”

  Some of the worry lines that had been present during the entire class faded from Marta’s face. “Yes. I guess I was.”

  Hoping to lighten the tension that now seemed to be weighing the air between them, E.A. said, “I think you need to tell me what you’re going to use this backpack for. Do you have a special vacation planned?”