Wanted (2 page)

Anna pursed her lips. “I thought this was supposed to be an easy job.”

“It is.” Katie had been helping can since she was old enough to scrub vegetables. She found it awfully strange that Anna had reached adulthood hardly knowing how to take care of a house and home. “Canning is a most agreeable chore, to be sure.”

Anna held up a finger. “Not for me. Look at my fingers.” She held a finger up for inspection while blowing on it so hard the paper behind her fluttered on the counter. “Do you see the blisters? They really hurt. I got burned when the boiling jam got the best of me.”

Katie had nothing to say to that. The blisters would teach her to be more careful in the future. But she didn't have to say a single word because Henry entered the roomy kitchen and made a beeline for Anna.

He frowned as soon as he noticed her pained expression. “Anna, you hurt yourself?”

Just like a child, she held up a finger. “It's nothing. Merely a blister.”

“It looks terribly painful, though.”

Anna nodded. “It is.”

To Katie's chagrin, her older brother carefully pressed Anna's fingers to his lips before leading her to the sink. And Anna, why she was letting him lead her around! As Katie watched her brother coddle her best friend, she could barely hold her patience. Anna had suffered a tiny burn, not a disastrous accident! Oh, she had much to learn. No self-respecting Amish woman would fuss over a burn so much.

She was just about to mention that when she realized neither Henry nor Anna would notice if she spoke at all. They were standing in front of the sink, cool water running, lost in each other's eyes.

Suddenly, it was too warm to be there with them. Too confining. Too much.

“I'm going to check on Roman,” she said, anxious to see the new puppy.

Neither looked her way.

Frustrated, Katie ran out to the pen that Henry had made for the puppy. He wiggled with delight when he saw her and yipped. She opened the gate, freed him, then sat on the ground as he jumped and played all around her. But to her surprise, even the bundle of black-and-white fur didn't lift her spirits.

No, he only reminded her that she had no special person of her own. And, unfortunately, that she had once had someone who had cared for her very much. He'd cared for her and she'd pushed him away.

Her mother, who'd been out feeding the goats, slowly approached. “I do believe this is the first time I've not seen you laugh and giggle at this puppy's antics.”

Her mother made her sound awfully young. “I need more than just puppies,
Mamm
. I am older now, remember?”

“
Ach,
Katie, you are surely havin' a time of it, aren't you now?”

Katie scrambled to her feet and followed her mother back to the goats' pen. “I'm all right.”

“Come now, I saw you running out here. What is wrong?”

“I don't know.” How could she ever put into words everything she was thinking? She could never admit to her mother all the selfish and confusing thoughts that were brewing inside of her.

Her mother nodded to Katie's hand. “Come now, something's wrong. Look what you are doing! We both know you would never pet Gertie without a reason.”

That was unfortunately true. Oh, how she'd always hated those ornery goats. She had ever since they'd gotten loose one fine spring day and found her first Log Cabin quilt on the line. In a matter of minutes, Billie and Gertie had chewed on that quilt, making a mess of years of careful hard work.

Because her mother was patiently waiting for an answer, Katie gave her one. “It's nothing. Anna and Henry looked like they needed a moment or two of privacy.”

“I suppose a courting couple needs a moment or two from time to time.” Looking toward the house, she wrinkled her brow. “I thought you were working on jam this morning. Did you already fill the jars?”

“No. We had to take a break when Anna burned her fingers.” Unable to stop the flow of words any longer, Katie blurted, “The way she carried on, you would think her finger was on fire. And of course, it happened just when Henry was coming in for some lemonade. The moment he saw her he rushed over and put her fingers under the water.” Katie didn't even feel like mentioning how Henry had kissed Anna's fingers, too.

“That was good thinkin'.”

“But that isn't the point! Anna could've tended to a blister by herself. She didn't need to act so helpless around my brother.”

“Ah.”

Katie ignored her mother's smile and continued. “As a matter of fact, she wouldn't even have been burned if she would have listened to me and been more careful.” Thinking again to how long it was taking to can preserves, Katie felt her temper explode. “Anna doesn't listen,
Mamm
! I've told her time and again to only fill the jars two-thirds of the way full, but she always ignores my suggestions.”

“I doubt she ignores you on purpose. This is all new for her.”

“Everything is new, even after being here seven months. She is helpless.”

“She's accomplished in other ways.”

“But that hardly matters now. Amish women need to know how to can.”

“And she will learn,” her mother soothed. “We all learn what we need to learn in our own time, don'tcha think?”

Now that her temper had calmed, Katie felt embarrassed for her behavior and cross words. Her mother was exactly right. Anna was doing the best that she could. “I'm sorry.”

“I'm not sorry that you're sharing your thoughts with me. Come now, what is really bothering you?”

Katie knew she couldn't keep all her mixed up feelings inside any longer. And, because she trusted her mother's advice more than anyone else's, she whispered, “Anna is getting everything I've wanted.”

Her mother's lips twitched. “You've wanted to burn yourself canning?”

“No, of course not.” Reluctantly, she mumbled, “Soon Anna will have a husband.”

“
Ah.
You are still thinking of Jonathan Lundy and his offer.”

She couldn't help herself. For the last few days, it was all she ever thought about. “I want to go to Jonathan's house,
Mamm
.”

“Staying in his home and watching over his girls does not seem like a terribly wise decision, especially if you have a fondness for Jonathan.”

“You knew I cared for him?”

“I would have had to be blind and dumb not to know that, Katie.” Leading the way out of the goats' pen, she turned to her. “I'm sorry to say this, but the fact is that he does not feel the same way. He might never feel that way. Everyone knows he misses Sarah. You'll be setting yourself up for heartache.”

“Then let me have heartache while I'm at least trying. My heart already hurts now and I've done nothing.” All she'd been doing for months was helping her friend learn the Amish ways.

“I see.” After looking at Katie once again, her mother picked up her skirts and shook them. “I'll do some more thinking about this. In the meantime, go see to Anna.” With a bit of a smile she said, “I do believe Henry left her, so she's all alone in the kitchen once again.”

Katie could only imagine what Anna was doing if she
still wasn't nursing a hurt finger. “No telling what mess she's made now.”

“Thank goodness she has you to show her the best way to clean things up, yes?”

Katie couldn't think of a suitable reply.

Some days, Jonathan missed Sarah so much he thought his insides would break. Sometimes, he longed for his wife so much, he'd be willing to do just about anything to see her again.

It was one of those days.

Outside the kitchen, the air was crisp and the sky a beautiful robin's-egg blue. The maple near the house was intent to fill the area with its glory…the leaves seemed to change to burnt red right before his eyes. Yes, the Lord had blessed them with a perfect late fall day. Within days, the air would become colder and the fields would be covered with a pristine white blanket of snow.

But not quite yet.

When Sarah was alive, she would have been singing a happy tune and would have had every window in their
house open to greet the day, regardless of how sharp the wind was. Now he only opened one.

Oh, how he used to grumble about the frostiness of the kitchen. Now, a far different chill permeated the room. One of silence and emptiness. No matter how many people might take up the space, things weren't changing. His wife was gone and in her place was a giant gap of a hole that couldn't seem to be filled.

And he'd tried.

But it was no use. Like a doughnut, there was no center to their lives. The imagery almost made him smile. When Sarah had been alive, he'd taken it for granted that he was the center of the family.

He'd been much mistaken.

Winnie's presence was helping, though lately he'd seen a shadow in her expression. Jonathan knew what the shadow was for. At twenty-two, his sister was yearning for a future of her own. A family and home of her own.

Being his lifeline wasn't giving her the satisfaction he'd hoped it would. If he were honest with himself, he knew he should be happy for his sister. The Lord asked everyone to find a life partner and raise a family. It would be a terrible shame if Winnie did not yearn for those things, too. But oh, he wished she would have chosen to wait a bit longer for his sake.

Outside the window, a pair of cardinals flew by, the male so proud and bright, his mate's colors far more subdued. Yet together they made a mighty fine pair. Could he fault his sister for wanting what all creatures had?

He could not. But what still remained was his needs. He
needed someone to watch his girls while Winnie went to meet her beau.

“I still canna believe that the Brennemans refused you,” Winnie stated over her half-drunk tea. “Your idea was most reasonable.”

He'd thought so, too. Carefully, he flipped the eggs in the pan, grimacing as yet again one of the yolks broke and ran across the griddle's surface, hardening in seconds. “Not everyone wants to care for another person's children, I suppose.”

“No, that's not it.” She drummed her fingers on the oak table he'd inherited from their parents. “What did they say again?”

Even though they'd discussed the conversation over and over during the past week, Jonathan dutifully recounted the encounter again. “John and Irene said they did not want their daughter living with me. Alone.”

“But you would be with the girls, and in the
daadi haus,
too.” Winnie frowned. “And what is with that nonsense, anyway? Don't they realize that your heart has already been taken?”

It had been, indeed. He had loved. Once. And then, to his shame, he'd felt that love fade into something far different. Something that only in the privacy of his thoughts could he admit was disappointment.

Now he only felt guilt for how Sarah died. That guilt weighed heavy on him. Now that it was almost two years since the accident, Jonathan figured he'd be carrying that burden for the rest of his life.

Yes, his heart was locked up somewhere else and wasn't
going to escape any time in the near future. Most likely, ever. Katie Brenneman had nothing to be afraid of.

“Between work and the girls I am busy indeed, but I've a feeling that they don't see it that way.”

Winnie joined him at the counter. With easy movements, she wiped off the crumbs of her toast as he pulled his own bread from the confines of the oven. “I should go talk to Katie. I'm sure she could talk her parents into changing their decision if she just put her mind to it.”

“Winnie, you mustn't. John and Irene have already made their decision.” After shaking a healthy amount of pepper on his eggs and placing the toast on top, Jonathan carried his plate to the table. “Maybe, you could put off your trip for a while.”

Her hand tightened on the rag. “Don't ask me to do that. I must go to Indiana. I need to go. Malcolm has been so wonderful
gut
in his letters, there might be something between us.” More quietly, she added, “I hope there might be.”

He said the obvious. “Indiana is far away.” And because he wasn't as good a brother as he wished he were, he added quite peevishly, “They may be quite different there, too.”

“Like how?”

“I don't know. But different is different.”

She shook her head slightly. “Oh,
bruder
. Sometimes different is good. Sometimes change is what the Lord wants.”

“Sometimes not.”

“Jonathan, once you followed your heart. Now it is time for me to do the same.”

He knew she was right. Winnie was a pretty girl, to
be sure. Thin as a reed, she used to look somewhat like a beanpole. Now, though, she merely looked slender and feminine. Her light blue eyes emphasized her ivory skin and dark, almost black, hair.

Yes, it was time for Winnie to be thinking of courtship and love. “I hear you.”

Looking satisfied that she won, she plopped his hot pan in water. “I'll figure something out for you, I promise. I will not go at the expense of Mary and Hannah. I'd never leave if I didn't feel they were in good hands.”

“What are you talking about?” Mary asked, popping her head into the kitchen.

Winnie blushed. “Nothing, child.”

“It is something,” Mary said in that forthright way of hers. The way that had been Sarah's. Sure, confident. At times too much so. “I heard my name.”

“You shouldn't be eavesdropping, Daughter.”

Mary crossed her arms over her chest, yet another true imitation of her mother. “I didn't listen on purpose. But I did hear my name.”

Slyly, Winnie raised an eyebrow Jonathan's way. Yes, Mary was a handful.

“Your aunt and I were discussing the particulars about Katie coming to live with us,” Jonathan finally said.

“Why?”

“Because I am going to go to Indiana for a spell and Katie and I have been friends for a long time.” She touched Mary's nose gently. “Since we were your age.”

“Why do you want to go away?”

“I'm not going for certain. I just might.” Winnie picked up Jonathan's plate and rinsed it off. “Would you like an egg this morning, Mary?”

“No. I just want toast.”

“Daughter, you should eat more.”

As expected, Mary ignored her father. “Katie hasn't come over lately.”

“That's because she's been busy. As have I.”

“Well, I don't know her. Not too good.”

It didn't escape Jonathan's notice that his daughter wrinkled her nose when she spoke their neighbor's name. “You certainly do too know her.”

“Not well. I don't see why we want her here. I don't.”

All brusque and business, Winnie shooed Mary and little Hannah, who'd just appeared, toward the table. “Sit down, now. It is time to eat.”

But the ever-curious Hannah stopped in her tracks. “
Who
do we not want here?”

“No one,” Winnie said as she shuffled Hannah to the broad oak bench. “I'm making you an egg. Eat some toast while you're waiting.”

Obediently, she picked up a piece of toast. But to Jonathan's dismay, Hannah was not to be put off, either. “Who, who, who?”

Just as Jonathan was about to tell the youngest to be quiet, Mary answered. “Katie Brenneman.”

Suspiciously quiet, Winnie slipped an egg onto a plate and placed it in front of Hannah.

Hannah looked at them all with wide eyes. “Why don't we want Katie here?”

“I want her here,” Winnie said.

“I don't. And you don't either, Hannah,” Mary proclaimed.

“Yes, I do. I like Katie.” Smiling sweetly, Hannah speared the egg with her fork. “Katie gives me cookies at gatherings. And she always has a friendly smile.”

Sounding far older than her years, Mary said, “Cookies do not make for a nice person.”

“Why not?”

Jonathan could not take any more. “Katie is indeed a nice person, and that is all we will say about that. It is sinful the way you two are gossiping.”

“I'm not gossiping and telling tales,” Mary retorted, obviously offended. “I'm only telling you my feelings. Can't I even do that?”

“Of course you can. But you mustn't say those things about Katie.”

“Why not? Why must we not have feelings about Katie Brenneman?”

“Daughters, eat your breakfast and get ready for school. We've had enough talk for now, I think.”

While Hannah busied herself with butter and jam, Mary narrowed her eyes. “But—”

Winnie turned away from the sink. “Listen to your father, Mary.”

As silence filled the room again, Jonathan stood up. “I'm going outside,” he murmured as he walked to the hooks by the door. Before any of the girls could ask another question, he slipped on his coat and walked out into the crisp, cool air. Into the type of day that Sarah had always enjoyed.

He'd never told her how much he far preferred the hot, long days of summer.

In fact, he'd never told her much about his tastes and wants. Instead, each had ventured into married life determined to be as busy as possible. Sarah had been terribly independent, always going wherever she needed to go. He'd never thought much about the dangers of her driving the buggy so much.

Maybe if he had, she'd still be with him. Maybe if he'd tried harder to tell her how much he liked her being at home, she'd still be there. But now, of course, it was far too late.

 

With a sigh, Holly Norris signed the letter with “Your friend, Holly,” then slipped the piece of stationery into the envelope and addressed it to the McClusky General Store.

“Well, Brandon, I don't know if Katie will ever see this, but at least I'll know I tried.” She looked fondly at her older brother. “Right?”

If Brandon heard, he gave no notice. Today was one of his bad days. Four months ago, he'd been diagnosed with cancer of the liver. Since then, his health had been steadily declining. At first, the doctors had talked about chemotherapy and radiation treatments. But after several scans and exhaustive tests, it was obvious that he was never going to get better. Actually, it was becoming obvious that Holly was about to lose him very soon.

Every time she thought about Brandon dying, Holly choked up. He was the only family she had left. Their
mother died of breast cancer four years ago. And their dad—well, neither of them had heard from Graham Norris in almost a decade.

For most of her life, it had only just been she and Brandon.

And lately, it had just been her. She'd never felt so alone.

For a few hours each day, Brandon would regain consciousness. Luckily, she was always there to witness it.

Holly mentally thanked her boss, Dr. Kinter, for allowing her to take a leave of absence from her job as a veterinary assistant. What would she do if Brandon woke up, only to find no one was sitting by his side?

During those moments of consciousness, Holly would try and sound chipper and chatty. For her sake, he would attempt to smile, but they both knew even that effort cost him. Brandon was slipping away. He was losing interest in almost everything in their world, talking more about the past and their mother than Holly could ever remember.

There was only one subject that ever drew a familiar spark into his beautiful hazel eyes—Katie Brenneman.

Almost three years ago, he'd fallen hard for Katie. In return, she'd led him on, then broke his heart. Katie had broken Holly's heart as well. She'd thought they'd been good friends. Best friends.

Then she'd found out that Katie had just been pretending to care about them. She'd never intended to go to trade school with Holly. She'd never intended to one day be roommates like she'd promised. She'd never intended to ever fall in love with Brandon.

No, she was Amish.

To Holly's dismay, Brandon still carried a torch for Katie. And now she was the only person he wanted to see. So Holly was swallowing her pride and doing everything she could to contact Katie.

Even though, really, Holly couldn't care less whether she ever saw Katie again. She didn't appreciate being used.

As the machines clicked and sighed around her brother, Holly nodded to the nurse on duty, then walked to the hospital's front lobby and posted the letter.

The irony of the address didn't escape her. The truth was, even though she'd felt she had become best friends with Katie, the fact remained that really, she hadn't known her very well at all. She didn't know where she lived, only that she shopped at the McClusky General Store.

Oh, and that Katie had lied to them all. About who she was and what her dreams were. About who she loved and what she wanted to be.

As Holly watched the envelope slide down the glass mail slot, she wondered what Katie would do when she saw it. Not wanting to put Brandon's news in the letter, Holly had asked Katie to meet her at the Brown Dog Café. Part of her hoped Katie would ignore the note.

But even though Holly wished that, she hoped and prayed that Katie would rush to Brandon's side. He wanted to see her. He needed to see Katie.

And so, Holly knew she would do whatever it took to give him what he wanted. Even reaching out to the girl she'd hoped to never see again.