“No,” Marta blurted. “I mean, no, not really.”
“Just a weekend getaway?” She knew she was grasping at straws, but she was determined to help Marta calm down. “Do you and your husband like to hike?”
“No. It’s nothing like that.”
“I see.” E.A. sighed.
After glancing at the front door of the shop one more time, Marta pressed a hand to her chest. “Goodness. I guess I’m not making a lot of sense, am I?”
“No, I was overstepping. Your reasons for your projects are your own. You don’t have to share.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to share, it’s just that I don’t think I should.”
What in the world? It was only a backpack. “I understand,” E.A. said easily, not actually understanding at all. Just then, the safety pin popped out the other side. “There we go! Unfasten the pin and then we’ll stitch the two ends together. And then it will be time to stop for the day.”
Marta nodded as she followed directions. “Hey, uh, E.A.?”
“Yes?”
“May I ask you for a favor?”
“You may ask me anything you want.”
“Sometimes my husband likes to check up on me.”
“Check up? Do you mean stop by?”
“Yes. Um, if he does stop by when I’m not here, would you please not tell him about this backpack?”
E.A. noticed that every muscle in Marta’s body was so stiff she looked like she was about to shatter. “I’ll do whatever you’d like me to do,” she said slowly. “Of course I will.”
Marta exhaled. “Thank you.”
“But what do you want me to say?”
“Anything but the truth.”
E.A. wasn’t sure she had heard correctly. “Pardon me?”
Reaching out, Marta grasped her hand so tightly that E.A. was sure she was going to have a bruise. “Tell Alan … tell him that I’m making an apron and that …” She paused. “And that you took it home to put on an appliqué patch or something and that is why he can’t see it.”
The sense of foreboding that had been present during their last two classes increased. E.A. wasn’t comfortable with being told to lie. It didn’t make sense.
“Do you really think that is necessary?” she asked hesitantly. “I mean, surely your husband won’t care what you make here, Marta.”
“He’s going to care, E.A. He cares about everything I do.” Marta shuddered. “I’m sorry. I know this puts you in a terrible position, but it would mean a lot to me if you could keep my secret.”
Marta looked like she was about to burst into tears or run out of the back of the shop. Now all E.A. wanted to do was calm the woman down and finish the class. “Like I said before, I’ll help you in any way I can.”
Marta relaxed. “Thank you so much.” She smoothed the partially made backpack on the counter. “You don’t know how much you are helping me. I really do appreciate it.”
“Marta, do you need help with anything else?” E.A. asked, not really sure why she was asking or what she could even offer. But she felt like the Lord was guiding her words.
Standing up, Marta’s expression was smooth and composed. Almost like the past forty-five minutes had never happened. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
E.A. was fumbling now. “You know what I mean. If you are having a problem with your personal life …”
“I’m not. Everything is fine.”
“Okay. Well, I’m glad.”
Handing her an envelope, Marta said, “Thank you for the lesson. I’ll see you next week.” Then, before E.A. could say another word, she turned and walked away.
E.A. knew she looked as shocked as she felt. It was like the woman had just completely changed personalities. Gone were the furtive looks and the jerky movements. Instead, she strode out of the shop like she’d been merely browsing and hadn’t found anything she liked.
And, to top it off, she hadn’t even taken her project with her!
Feeling thoroughly irritated, E.A. carefully folded the backpack in some white tissue paper and carried it to her tote bag in the employee workroom.
Then, realizing she was still holding the envelope Marta had handed her, she ripped it open, intending to put the cash that Marta usually paid her in her wallet.
Except there was a fifty-dollar bill inside instead of the usual thirty-five. And a small note.
Thank you for your help. I owe you.
Alarmed now, E.A. stuffed the whole thing into her purse. She wished she could tell Lark what had just happened, but she knew Lark would either tell everyone who came in about it or get mad at E.A. for accepting so much money for her services.
Instead, she vowed to talk to Will about her concerns. Hopefully he would know what to do.
Because now, she realized, she was going to be on pins and needles at work as she watched the front door.
Just waiting for Marta’s husband to arrive so that she could look at him in the eye and spew lie after lie.
FIFTEEN
“Even though everyone got mad at me for opening the cages, I still don’t think those twelve mice climbing off the table was my fault,” Katie protested. “I had no idea they would be so anxious to leave their cage.”
Because it had seemed like Elizabeth Anne’s heart had been set on it, they’d gone for a walk instead of sitting on her front porch with cold glasses of lemonade.
Will had worked all day in a muggy warehouse. Then, after walking home, he’d spent an hour helping his father in the barn. By the time he’d showered and changed his clothes, he’d had to hurry over to E.A.’s house so he wouldn’t be late.
When she’d suggested the walk, it had truly been the last thing on earth Will had wanted to do. But he wanted to make her happy, so he agreed.
Unfortunately, E.A. wasn’t acting very happy at all. Instead of her usual chatty self, she seemed restless and distracted. She’d ignored his comments about the flowers, the pair of ducks in the pond they passed, and even how he’d gotten a pretty good cut from a piece of metal just before lunch. No, all she seemed to be interested in doing was racewalking down the road.
He was becoming sweaty. And yes, more than a little frustrated.
“My, it sure is hot out tonight,” Will said. “I’m not sure where the wind is, but it feels like it took a vacation.” He paused, waiting for E.A. to respond to his joke.
“Mmmm,” E.A. murmured, adding a vague smile. The same vague, distracted way she’d been responding to pretty much everything he’d been saying for the last hour.
It was becoming a bit annoying. So much so, he began to wonder if she was really listening to him.
After pointing out a hawk in the field and getting only a “That’s nice,” he’d had enough.
He decided to give her a little test, just to see how much she was ignoring him. “E.A., you know what? I’ve actually been thinking about breaking into the factory and sleeping on the couch in one of the offices. Do you think I would get in trouble for that?”
“I don’t know, Will.”
“I guess I could always ask John B. to cover for me,” he mused. “I mean, I could always say that breaking and entering was his idea. John probably wouldn’t mind too much. What do you think?”
“I think that’s a good idea. Maybe you should do that.” She smiled tightly.
“Aha!” he said.
She stopped and stared at him. “What?”
“I caught you.”
“Caught me how?”
“Caught you not paying attention to a word I said.”
“Oh, Will. Of course I’ve been paying attention to you.”
“Then tell me what I just said about the factory.”
She rolled her eyes in the dim light. “That you wanted to …” Her voice faded. “Hey, did you just tell me that you were going to break in and blame it on John?”
“I did.” He raised an eyebrow. “And you told me that I should do it.”
“So that isn’t true?”
“Of course it isn’t. How could you have thought it was?”
She put her hands on her hips. “Will Kurtz, I don’t think that’s a very good joke.”
“Elizabeth Anne Schmidt, I don’t appreciate being made to racewalk around the backroads of Walnut Creek while being ignored.”
“I wasn’t ignoring you. And I wasn’t walking that fast … was I?”
“You absolutely were.” Before she could argue again, he reached for her hand. “Instead of ignoring me, why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind?”
Her blue eyes widened, then she exhaled. “I’m not sure if I can.”
“Why not?”
“Because I think it’s supposed to be a secret, but that’s the problem, Will.” Sounding even more worried, she added, “I’m not even sure what kind of secret I’m supposed to be keeping.”
“Sounds like you’ve got a real puzzle, indeed.”
“I do.”
“You need to tell someone, E.A. Keeping it inside won’t do you no good, I can promise you that.”
“I know …”
“So, if you’re going to tell someone, it might as well be me.” He puffed up his chest. “I am standing right here, after all.”
After walking a few more feet, she spoke again. “All right. It has to do with Marta, my sewing student.”
“You’ve told me about her before, right?”
“Jah.”
“She’s English, yes?”
“Yes.” She looked up at him and smiled.
“So, what has happened?”
“She was acting really strange today. And then she asked me to do something that I’m not sure I’m comfortable with.”
He looked at her in concern. “What did she want you to do, E.A.?”
“As far as I can tell, all her problems began when she started making a backpack.”
“A backpack, you say?”
“Yes. Marta said she really wanted one. And today—well, it’s not done, but it actually looks like a backpack now.” She stopped and looked up at him, like that was supposed to mean something.
It did not.
“Okay …”
“But see, instead of being pleased about her project, Marta seemed really nervous.”
This was what had gotten her so upset? An English lady and her backpack? “I think I need to sit down for this story.” Spying the remains of a stone chimney in the field, he tugged her to it. “Sit.”
There were enough flat areas for both of them to perch on the stones and kick their feet out. Immediately, Will felt his body thank him for getting off of his feet.
“All right, now that we’re comfortable, continue.”
“Marta seemed really nervous today. She kept looking at the door like she was afraid of who was going to step through it. Then she asked me for a promise.”
“What was it?”
“Oh, Will. It was the strangest thing. Marta said that sometimes her husband likes to visit places where she’s been and check up on her. And then she asked me not to tell him that she’s been sewing a backpack if he ever came by and spoke to me. I’m supposed to tell him that she’s been making an apron.”
Will didn’t know why a husband would even care about such things. “But you won’t have an apron, right? I mean, at least, she won’t.”
“You’re right! She won’t. I’m supposed to tell her husband that I have this made-up apron at home, putting on appliqué work.”
“So she asked you to lie to her husband,” he stated.
She wrinkled her nose, like saying the harsh truth pained her. “Jah. That’s what she wants.”
He didn’t think anything about that sounded good. “What did you say about that?”
“What do you think? I said I would do it.”
While he processed that statement, she waved a hand. “But it gets even worse, Will.”
He was almost afraid to ask. “How?”
“She left the backpack and then overpaid me for today’s session.” She stared at him meaningfully. “I think it was a bribe.”
“I don’t know about that. Maybe she just made a mistake?” he asked hopefully, though he doubted it. The whole thing sounded fishy.
“I hope you’re right. But I have to tell ya, Will, I have no idea what to do. I mean, it feels like I’m supposed to do something important. Like the Lord put Marta in my path in order to help her—but I’m woefully unprepared to help her in the way she needs.”
Will wanted to hug her tightly almost as much as he wanted to nod in agreement. She was right. Elizabeth Anne was twenty-four, sheltered, and from a close-knit family—she had no experience dealing with such big things. This English lady was married, obviously frightened of her husband, and was spouting lies like it was her habit.
But he also knew the woman sitting next to him well enough to appreciate how much she could help others.
Feeling as if the Lord had placed him by her side this evening for a reason, he said, “At the risk of sounding trite, I think He would never give you too much to handle.”
“Usually, I would feel that way, too. But I don’t know, Will. At the moment, it sure feels like it’s too much.” She looked down at her feet. “I don’t feel like I’m the right person to help her. But if I refuse, then I know I’m going to be letting her down, and that would be awful.”
“What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know!”
“Oh, E.A.”
“That’s why I’m telling you all of this. I’m afraid of what to do. I want to keep her secrets and help her in any way I can.” She lowered her voice. “But I’m also afraid, Will. What if her husband shows up and I don’t protect Marta enough? What if I mess up and say the wrong thing? What … what if he gets mad at me?”
Will could hardly bear to think about that. Though he was beginning to feel just as tense as she was, he tried to be her voice of reason. “You don’t know that he’ll show up. He might not.”
“But what if he does?”
“Then you will do what you need to do,” he said at last. “You’ll help her as much as you can and decide how much you can lie.”
“But what if I fail?”
Giving in to his feelings, he pulled her closer, close enough to practically set her on his lap. When she relaxed against him, resting her face in the nape of his neck, he rubbed her back.
After a few minutes, he tilted his head back so they were looking eye to eye. “You won’t fail, because you’re going to do your best. And that’s all you can do.”
“If I fail, something awful might happen to her.”
“This is true. But we can’t control the future, and you can’t make your student happier or feel safer. All you can do is your best and to pray for help.”
After studying his face for a moment, she exhaled, shuddering slightly. “Okay, then.”
A lock of her auburn hair had fallen down from its pins with the action. He ran a hand along her cheek, liking how soft her skin felt. “You sure?”
“I think so. You know what’s funny is that I always considered myself to be the most levelheaded of the Eight. I’ve always acted like I had all the answers, like I was so sure of myself. But now I realize that I was living in my own little bubble. I had all the answers because I had never been challenged before. I’d never asked too much of myself or moved out of my comfort zone. I feel like I should go to all our friends and apologize for the way I’ve sounded and acted over the years.”
“Don’t you dare. You’ve given all of us good advice. Said many things the rest of us wish we had. That’s something to be proud about.”
“You always say the right thing.”
He laughed. “We know that’s not true.” He kissed her brow. “Now, try to relax for a minute, all right?”
She nodded, looking up at the stars. “I’m going to pretend I see God up in the stars, looking out for all of us. Protecting us.” She smiled slightly. “Andy, too.”
Will looked up into the s
ky as well. “I like imagining our Andy is up there with the Lord, keeping company with Him and reminding Him from time to time to look out for us Eight. I like that idea a lot.”
E.A. closed her eyes and smiled.
And Will found himself gazing at her and deciding that she was something of a surprise. Maybe everyone was.
SIXTEEN
“The mice, obviously pleased to be set free, scattered,” E.A. continued, anxious to move the story forward.
But Logan interrupted. “Nee, what E.A. is trying to say is that they ran in a group down the hall. And let me just say, a dozen suddenly free mice running in a pack is a fearsome sight.”
“You were sure out late with Will,” E.A.’s mother said when E.A. entered the house that night. It was after ten.
Elizabeth Anne was tired, ready to take a shower, and do nothing more than think about the conversation she’d just had with Will. But that wasn’t going to be possible, at least not yet. Her parents expected her to chat with them for a few minutes. If she put off talking with them now, they would make sure they got some answers first thing in the morning.
Steeling herself for the conversation, she toed off her shoes and entered the den. Both of her parents were sitting on easy chairs with books in their laps. They looked anxious.
“I know it’s late,” she said with what she hoped was an apologetic smile. “We started walking and lost track of time. I didn’t bring my cell phone so I couldn’t call to let you know that we were fine.”
“I figured if you were with the Kurtz boy you were fine,” Daed said. “Will has always been a considerate boy.”
Though she knew Will would have been amused by her father’s description, E.A. relaxed. Perhaps this end-of-the-night conversation was going to go better than she’d expected. “I’m glad you weren’t worried.” She yawned. “I’m pretty tired, though. I’m going to go on up to bed.”
Her father shook his head. “Not quite, Elizabeth.” Gesturing to the couch across from them, he motioned for her to sit. “We want to talk to you about what happened while you were out.”
“Oh?” Immediately thinking of Marta’s husband, she sat down. “Is everything okay?”
The Protective One Page 10
