The Protector (20 page)
Authors: Shelley Shepard Gray
September 17, 2:00
P.M.
L
oyal came over the next day. And the next. And the day after that. Each time, he came alone—and each time, Ella felt a little more breathless when he left.
Although nothing had been said, of course, Loyal seemed to be endlessly giving her hints about his heart. And about their future together.
On the fourth day he came calling, Ella greeted him in her favorite dark blue dress.
“Look at you,” he said with a smile. “You look so pretty, one would hardly know you’ve got a cast on your leg.”
She laughed. “I finally feel better. More myself, I think.” She gestured to the pitcher of iced tea next to her. “Maybe you’d like something to drink?”
“Sure.” He stood awkwardly next to her for a moment, then leaned down and helped her pour. Before she sipped her own, he set the glass down. “Ella, I’ve been waiting for a perfect time, but the fact is, I’m too nervous.”
“Why in the world would you be nervous?”
Taking her hand in his, he said, “Because I want to ask you to marry me.”
“Want to? Or you are going to?”
His cheeks flushed. Looking remarkably unsure, he rubbed the pad of his thumb across her knuckle. “I want to,” he said, flashing an embarrassed smile. After taking a breath, he lifted his chin. “Will you marry me, Ella? Will you live with me on the farm that’s been in your family for generations—and start your own family with me?”
Ella knew if she’d tried for a thousand days, she could have never asked for a sweeter question. Right then and there, Loyal was giving her everything she’d always wanted. A man to love. A family to cherish.
And a life that she could wake up each morning and smile about.
“Of course,” she said simply.
His answering smile was beautiful. His gentle embrace was perfect.
And his kiss, well, his kiss was everything she’d ever dreamed about . . . when she’d been sitting alone on a bench in her yard . . . hoping one day to have the life she’d always wanted.
Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading my book! I hope you are enjoying this series and were rooting for Ella to find both love and happiness as much as I was.
When I began this novel, I wavered back and forth about whether to put Katie’s point of view in it. In the end, I decided to include it because I really could identify with her love of reading. I was never very precocious—I was way too shy for that—but I could definitely relate to Katie’s eagerness to be in the summer reading club. Maybe some of you have also participated in that a time or two?
This letter wouldn’t be complete without offering my thanks to many people. First and foremost, I’m so thankful to my husband, Tom. Tom, I could never write so much without your help and support. Thank you for listening for hours about made-up people, and for cooking and cleaning that kitchen!
Thank you, also, to my critique partners, Heather, Cathy, Hilda, and Tonya. For over ten years now, we’ve met and eaten donuts and sipped coffee and laughed. What would I do without y’all? Thanks for quickly reading chapters, giving me encouragement, and letting me know when I’ve really messed things up. I never take your advice, your help, or your friendship for granted.
Thank you also needs to go to my editor, Cindy DiTiberio. Thank you, Cindy, for making so many of my dreams possible—and for letting me follow the characters where they want to go . . . even when the novels aren’t
quite
like I proposed. Because of you, writing is still so very fun.
And, finally, thank you to all of the readers who’ve reached out to me in countless ways. Thank you for coming to book signings, for asking your librarians to order copies of my novels, and for giving my books as gifts. Thanks for finding me on Facebook and for visiting my Web site. Thank you for your prayers and your kind words and your encouragement. I’m forever grateful for your support.
With His blessings and my thanks,
Shelley
1. Ella and Loyal have lived near each other for most of their lives, but until recently, hardly knew each other at all. Have you ever had a relationship like that with someone? How did your relationship grow and change?
2. Should Loyal have felt guilty for purchasing the Hostetler farm? Or was the purchase the right thing for both Ella and him?
3. The practice of auctioning off a deceased person’s belongings is a common practice in some Amish communities. Many Amish feel it is best to honor memories, not mementoes. How do you feel about this practice? Are there some things you’ve inherited that you could do without? Is there anything that you could never part with?
4. The theme of friendship plays an important part in the novel. Ella learns she must reach out to people in order for them to reach out to her. How have friends played a role in your life? What makes someone a good friend to you?
5. Dorothy, of course, exemplifies everything friendship is not. She’s self-serving and possessive, which leads to her downfall. How do you think she could have changed throughout the book? Or do you think her fate was inevitable?
6. Loyal, being the middle son, is trying hard to find his independence. Do you think his purchasing the Hostetler farm was the right decision? What other problems might a middle child face, even as an adult?
7. In
The Protector,
John Weaver is still struggling with his future. Do you think he could have been happy with Jayne Donovan, and staying “English”?
8. The main storylines in the novel revolve around “protecting” something, whether it is a reputation, a friendship, a future, or a love. Some of the characters risk almost everything they have for these things. What would you go to great lengths to protect? Why?
9. The Bible verse that guided me while writing
The Protector
was from Hebrews: “Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.” —Hebrews 11:1 (NIV
)
What does faith mean to you? How does your faith play a role in your daily life?
10. How might the following Amish proverb apply to you? What does “sharing your joys” look like in your life?
Share your joys with others. It takes two to be glad.
Don’t miss Shelley Shepard Gray’s next book in the Families of Honor series
,
The Survivor
On sale fall 2011
November 8, Monday
F
inally, Mattie Lapp had Graham Weaver trapped. For most of their visit to the hospital she’d been trying to speak privately with him. But every time she’d found her nerve, something would happen. Either she would get called away for one more blood test, or Graham would be busy chatting with one of the Englischers he’d met in the waiting room.
As the hours passed, she’d bite her tongue and bide her time. Not very patiently, however. She’d always secretly thought patience was somewhat overvalued.
Now was her chance.
At the moment, she and Graham were the only two people on the elevator at the Geauga County Hospital. As the elevator doors closed, Mattie knew she had only mere seconds before they would reach the ground level. Only seconds to speak her mind.
Clearing her throat to get his attention, she said, “Graham, wouldja do something for me?”
Though he’d been standing in front of the doors and watching the numbers blink overhead, Graham turned to her with his usual understanding smile. “Of course. Anything.”
Oh! She hadn’t expected him to be quite so agreeable. Nervously, she glanced at the blinking number. Nine.
The elevator stopped. The doors opened. Her breath caught. Oh, but this had been the very worst of ideas!
Maybe she’d get a reprieve?
Nee
. No one entered. The Lord was obviously telling her it was now or never. As the doors closed with a whoosh, she blurted, “Graham, it’s like this. I need you to help me find a husband.”
In a flash, his kind expression turned dark and stormy. “Mattie, the things you think of. Why in the world would I want to do that?”
Ach!
This was a terribly bad idea! “I don’t want to be alone anymore. I want a man of my own,” she said in desperation, feeling herself blush at her poor explanation. Honestly, it sounded as if she wanted a puppy, not a husband.
Graham moved closer to the side and leaned against the wall, crossing his well-built arms over his terribly solid chest. “Why?” he asked. His voice was hard now.
The elevator stopped at the third floor. “I’ll explain later. Another time,” she blurted as she stepped backward and waited for the elevator doors to open and let people inside.
Except they did not.
The doors didn’t open, that is.
Instead, the overhead light started blinking, blanketing them in pitch blackness every other second. Without thinking, she stepped closer to Graham. Comforted by his presence, she searched his face. Looking for answers.
For a moment, true worry appeared in his eyes before he stood straighter and gently reached out and clasped her shoulder. “S’okay, Mattie,” he murmured. “I’m sure this is just a temporary thing.”
Of course, his first thought was to reassure her. He’d always been that type of friend. “I wonder what is going on?” What was she asking, really? Was she concerned about the doors not opening . . . or what was finally happening between them?
“I don’t know,” he murmured, this time in Pennsylvania Dutch. That was the only sign that maybe he wasn’t as calm about their situation as he was wanting her to believe.
Mattie pivoted and glared at the stark metal doors. Though it had only been a few seconds, already their enclosure felt confining. So much like the MRI machine that the technicians used to look for cancer. The air felt thick. Too thick.
“I hope the doors open soon,” she said. “I don’t know what we’ll do if they don’t.”
Behind her, he reached out and raised his other hand to her shoulder, gently squeezing. Reassuring. “They will. You just need patience. A bit more patience in everything,” he murmured under his breath.
But she still heard it. Turning again, she faced him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You just asked me to help you find a man,” he pointed out. None too kindly. “Like . . . like I was some kind of courting service for Amish women.”
“That’s not fair. I only asked because you work at the garage door factory now. And there’s lots of Amish men there . . .”
“Who I would want to start trying to match you with?”
His voice was condescending. And . . . a bit hurt?
Well, she was hurt, too. And confused. As the lights continued to flash, she watched him jab at the glowing buttons. “Graham, why are you so upset with me? Is it because I want to find someone? Because I want to get married one day soon? Because I want to have a life like the rest of our friends?” As she said the last words, Mattie heard the whine in her voice and mentally winced. She didn’t want to sound so pitiful. But at the moment, she couldn’t help how desperate she was feeling.
With a jerk, Graham turned from the button panel. “I’m not upset about your dreams.”
Dreams. Yes, that was one way of putting it, wasn’t it? She had dreams that might never amount to anything. Ruthlessly, she pushed the bitter thoughts away.
Fingering the black apron covering her violet dress, she said, “If you’re not upset . . . would you? Would you help me?”
“Not now.” He turned from her and started punching buttons. Again. As if the doors would suddenly open because of his fingertip on the right button!
Then, of course, in spite of herself, she found herself hoping his efforts would be fruitful.
But of course they were not.
Why would they?
These days, it seemed as if nothing was ever easy. After all, hadn’t she gotten cancer at twenty-two, and not only endured a mastectomy but lost all her hair and a good portion of her weight, too . . . all while her friends were going about their lives. Finding love and planning weddings.
Eager to get out of their prison, she pointed to a red knob to the right of the doors. “Should I pull this? Pull the alarm?”
“Pull it, if you want.”
His voice was still cool. Unused to that tone of voice, she reached out to him again. “Graham, please don’t be upset with me. After all, you have Jenna.”
“You know things with Jenna and me didn’t work out.”
“Well, I’d like a chance for a relationship. All I want is for you to talk to some of the men you are now working with and see if you think one of them would be a
gut
match for me. It makes perfect sense.”
“Mattie, I’m not meant to be your personal dating service.”
Oh, but Graham always knew the perfect sarcastic quip to make her feel ridiculous. Beyond discouraged, Mattie shrank from his glare. Pulled at her collar. Though she was sure it was only her imagination, already the confines of the elevator felt warmer. Too warm.
After a long look, he stepped closer. Wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. Just like he had when she was so, so sick from the chemotherapy drugs. Leaning toward him, she rested her cheek on his shoulder.
He cuddled her closer. Just like he usually did when she was ill. But no, this felt different. There was more tension between them.
More energy.
“Graham?” she whispered, moving so she could see his eyes under the brim of his straw hat.
He was staring at her. His lips were slightly parted, as if all his words were frozen inside of him. Just like hers suddenly were.
Slowly his head lowered. Realizing what was about to happen, her pulse quickened. She raised her chin. Suddenly, everything felt all right.
Was this what was she’d been wanting, but hadn’t even realized?
Ding!
They sprang apart. Dropped their hands just as the elevator doors opened with a cloying jerk.
Cool air rushed forward, cooling Mattie’s cheeks.
“You two all right?” a man in a light blue cotton shirt with the name Tom embroidered on his shirt pocket asked. Holding the metal doors open, he waited for them to exit. “We’ve been worried about you.”
“We are fine,” Graham answered. “What happened?”
Tom shrugged his shoulders. “Who knows? Everything around here runs like clockwork for days, then all of a sudden it all falls apart!” He rolled his eyes as Mattie stepped out of the elevator, too.
Weakly, she smiled. “It’s been one of those days for me, too.”
Beside her, Graham grunted. “You ready, Mattie? We should probably make sure George is still outside waiting for us.”
“Of course,” she replied, slowly realizing that nothing was ever going to be the same between them again.
She didn’t know whether to be happy or cry. She settled for silent.
I
t had taken them double the usual time to get back to Jacob’s Crossing, and Graham wasn’t happy about it.
“You know how the traffic is this time of day—bad and worse!” George, their English driver had called out good-naturedly from the front seat. “Nothing we can do about it.”
Back in the hospital elevator, it had taken everything he’d had not to lash out at Mattie, to tell her that he had no intention of finding her a man. Most especially when he was standing right there, practically, pathetically, volunteering for the job!
But she hadn’t seen that. No, impatient, strong, passionate Mattie had only seen what she wanted to see: her best friend.
It was a label he had never wanted, nor asked for.
For the past year, he’d gone from waiting for her to return his feelings to coming to terms with the fact that she was in no hurry for love or relationships. Discouraged, he’d courted Jenna for a bit, but it had never felt right.
Jenna, for all her sparkle and beauty, was no Mattie. After the fourth or fifth time they’d gone out, it had been obvious to both of them that nothing romantic was going to happen between them.
He’d resigned himself to waiting a few more years for Mattie to get back to the person she was. To one day be ready for love again.
But instead of looking at him, she was out for someone new.
With haste, he got out of George’s van and strode inside. He would change clothes, then go straight out to the barn and see how he could help Calvin.
Graham was so tense, he was half hoping Calvin would set him to work chopping wood. Yes, chopping for an hour or two—or four—would suit him fine.
Grabbing the banister, he circled the wood and strode up the first two steps.
“Graham?” his mother called out. Her voice was high-pitched and strained. “Could you come in here for a moment?”
Abruptly, he turned around and walked to the kitchen. “
Mamm,
can this wait? I’m hoping to join Calvin—” He skidded to a stop as he saw that his mother wasn’t alone. “Jenna?”
“Hello, Graham.” She sniffed. Her face was splotchy. Obviously she’d been crying. For a split second she met his gaze, then looked hastily away.
For a split second, his heart softened, remembering how much he’d wanted to like her. “What are you doing here?” he asked gently. Perhaps her mother was sick? Or one of her brothers or sisters? She did have a mighty large family.
“Is everything all right?”
Jenna shook her head.
Next to Jenna, his sister-in-law Lucy sent him a glare bristling with contempt. “It seems she got tired of waiting for you to pay her a call.”
“What?” He hadn’t called on Jenna in more than a month. He looked to his mother for clarification. Surely she would give him an answer? “Jenna, what is all this about? And if you came to visit with me, why are you crying here with my mother?”
At the mention of her name, his mother met his gaze. But instead of giving him a sign that all was fine, she looked wary. “Perhaps you should sit down, Graham,” she said after a pause. “It seems we have a lot to talk about.”
He took a chair, but his already strained patience was waning fast. After thinking about Mattie with a new man for the last hour, he felt ready to break something. “Can we make this quick? I really do need to go out to the fields and help Calvin.”
Lucy shook her head in dismay. “Honestly, Graham, where is your heart?”
Tired of being the one person in the room who was in the dark, he looked directly at their guest. “Jenna, why are you here? What has you so upset . . . and why does it concern me?”
After taking a deep breath, she finally answered, “I’m here because I’m pregnant.”
Stunned, he stared at her in wonder. He had thought he had been the only one to court her lately. She’d seemed so eager for his attentions, too. So eager that he’d actually felt terrible when he’d told her that it was obvious they didn’t suit.
Boy, had he been fooled!
However, he still didn’t understand why the three of them were looking at him with such varying degrees of discomfort and dismay.
“Why does this concern me?”
Jenna finally raised her head. “Because the babe is yours, of course.”
Graham stilled, then abruptly got to his feet. “
Nee—
”
