Wanted (6 page)

Seven-year-old Mary stopped in her tracks. “Katie, you're here already?”

Winnie clucked. “Remember how I told you this morning that Katie would be comin' to stay today?”

Wordlessly, Mary grasped Hannah's hand. They both nodded.

Katie looked to Winnie with a smile. “I'll be here for two months. Are you two ready to help me?”

Mary looked at Hannah, then at Katie with a reproachful glare. “No.” She then walked away, leaving her lunch pail and satchel on the table.

Katie waited for Winnie to chastise the girl. But instead of correcting the girl's behavior, Winnie merely picked up Mary's abandoned items and put them to rights.

Yet more strange behavior followed. Dinner was a haphazard affair. No one waited for Jonathan. Instead, Winnie just put some food on a plate for him.

After dinner, the girls went up to their room instead of gathering around the hearth like Katie's family always did. Soon after, Winnie went to her room to finish packing.

Finally, at almost seven o'clock, Jonathan entered. As soon as he noticed her presence, his steps slowed. “Katie. You came.”

“Of course I did. I said I would.” When she smiled his way, Jonathan blinked and he dipped his chin, as if embarrassed.

“Well, I'm…glad. The girls need you here.” He looked at her again, then turned away.

“I had a busy day. Winnie showed me around your home.”

“I hope you found everything to your liking.”

Suddenly, she couldn't have cared less about her bare
room or the unfamiliar surroundings. “Everything is most pleasing.”

After removing his black coat and hanging his hat on a peg by the door, he walked quickly to the sink, washed his hands, then picked up the plate she'd set out for him. “Is this for me?”

“Of course.” Taking a chance, she dared to tease him a bit. “Who else would it be for? I hope you like meat loaf.”

“I like it fine.” Once again those pale blue eyes seemed to seek hers for a moment, then drop in embarrassment. Somewhat stiltedly, he went to his meal. After taking it to the table, he offered a quick silent prayer of thanks, then he proceeded to eat without so much as warming it up for a bit in the oven.

Katie joined him. “So, how was your work at the lumberyard?”

“It was good.”

She tried again. “Did you do anything interesting? What, exactly, do you make there, anyway?”

Wearily, he wiped his mouth. “We make shells. You know, lumber frames for homes. We have a large contract for a builder out near Toledo. We build furniture, too, sometimes.”

“That sounds interesting,” she murmured, though it didn't, not really. “Do you like it?”

“I like it well enough. My boss, Brent, is a good man.” Jonathan turned his plate a quarter turn so he could continue to shovel in his meal. In sync with his fork hitting the plate, he shrugged. “There isn't much to say. The
work is hard, but plenty. And the pay is
gut
, too. That's a blessing.”

For a moment, Katie found herself noticing everything about Jonathan, all over again. The way he held his fork. The scar along the base of his thumb. The way his cool blue eyes seemed to always find hers. “Indeed. Well, I spent the day getting organized.”

“Did you have any problems?”

“No. Not at all.” She swallowed hard as once again his hand stilled and he looked long at her. “
Um,
please don't worry about the girls. I will care for them just fine.”

“I assumed you would.”

“Oh. Well, then…” Her voice drifted off. When she noticed him shifting, about to leave the room, about to stand up, she blurted, “How did you get that scar?”

He stilled. “Which one?”

Before she could stop herself, she reached out and touched his thumb. His skin felt so different than hers, rough. Cool. He started from her touch. “That one.”

“Oh. I cut it years ago when I was mending some fencing.” He ran his other thumb across his hand, just like she had done.

“It must have been some cut.” Feeling terribly girlish, she amended her words. “I mean, it's almost an inch long.”

He looked at his hand as if he was looking at that scar for the first time. “I guess it was. It healed, though, and I'm right as rain.” For a moment, their eyes met, and his expression gentled—almost like he cared about her. Then, just as suddenly, he stood up. “I…I am going to wash up now.”

Stunned, Katie watched him pick up his plate, set it near the counter, then walk away. Leaving her alone.

As she looked around the suddenly silent kitchen, Katie thought that perhaps her parents had been right. Perhaps her stay here would be a thankless one, indeed. The girls were not eager to get to know her. The house was empty and far too quiet. Winnie would be gone soon.

And Jonathan…Jonathan seemed wary around her. Watchful. Almost bashful?

Brandon was sitting up in bed half watching television when Holly arrived at the hospital that afternoon. Pausing at the door, tears pricked her eyes. For once, Brandon looked almost like his usual self. It had been a rough week—there'd been a few times when neither the doctors nor the nurses thought he would last to the next day.

There were times when she wasn't sure she'd be able to make it, especially since all the news was now increasingly dire. Holly was finding it hard to stay positive.

But of course, that was what he needed. “Hey, you,” she said when she finally walked through the doorway. “How does it feel to sit up in bed for a change?”

With effort, he turned her way. “Pretty good. So, are you ever going to actually come in? I've been watching you stand there for five minutes.”

“Sorry. My mind was wandering, I guess,” she mur
mured, walking toward him. After squeezing his shoulder, she pulled up her usual chair and sat down next to him. “So…are you feeling a little better?”

“Yeah. I think those new drugs are helping with the pain.”

His words told her everything she needed to know. He wasn't healing. A miracle wasn't about to take place. His prognosis wasn't going to change. He just wasn't feeling as bad as he usually did. “Oh. Good.”

Brandon motioned to the remote control on the bedside table. “Turn off the TV, would you? I want to ask you about something.”

“Anything,” she said as soon as the screen went black.

“Did…did you ever get ahold of Katie? Did you find her?”

“No.” Regret consumed her as she watched his expression fall. Oh, she'd give just about anything to have different news for him. “I wrote Katie a note and asked her to meet me on Sunday but she didn't show up.” She'd waited three hours. As each minute passed, Holly's anger had intensified. It was just so unfair. Here Brandon was hoping to see Katie one last time before he died—and Katie couldn't even trouble herself to give Holly a few minutes of her time.

“Oh.” With a sigh, his eyes drifted shut.

If Katie was standing in front of her at that minute, Holly knew she would have reached out and shaken her, hard. “I'll try again, Brandon.”

For a long moment, the only sounds in the room were the plethora of machines that monitored his vital signs. At last, he spoke. “Why do you think she didn't show?”

“I don't know.” When he tried to grip the electronic control to lower the head of the bed, she stood up and pushed the button herself, helping to adjust the pillows under his head as he shifted. “Maybe she didn't get the note. I had to leave it at the general store, you know. I'll go over there this afternoon and check.”

“You don't have time. You've got work. I know you've got your job, Holl…” His words were slurring. Either the pain medicine was really kicking in or his body couldn't wait to rest.

“Sure I do.” Reaching out, she clasped his hand. “I'll find her, Brandon. I'm going to find her and bring her to you. I promise.”

His eyes still closed, he almost smiled. Almost.

Holly sat back down and watched her brother sleep. It was time to face the painful truth. They were almost out of time. No matter what—no matter what it cost to her pride or her feelings—she had to get hold of Katie.

 

Life was very different at Jonathan's home, Katie realized as she walked down the hall to the girls' bedroom one morning just days after Winnie had left with a smile and a wave before boarding her bus.

She missed the hustle and bustle of the inn as much as she missed her parents. At home, it was rare to find a moment's peace, never mind an hour of it.

“Girls, it's time to wake up,” she said after poking her head in the door.

The two bundles under matching blue and yellow quilts hardly moved. Katie couldn't help but smile at how cute
they looked. Their small sleeping forms brought back memories of her own childhood. Although, back when she was small, it had been Rebekeh's job to wake her up. Only Rebekeh's promise of hot chocolate would rouse her from slumber.

Softly venturing in, she gently shook each of them awake. “Mary, Hannah? It's morning.”

Hannah rubbed her eyes as she sleepily sat up. “Katie?”

“Yes, dear. Time to get up.”

Obediently Hannah sat up. “You look pretty today.”

“
Danke
.” Brushing a silky strand of hair away from Hannah's sweet face, Katie smiled. “You look
schlafrig.
Sleepy.”

Just like she had the morning before, Hannah giggled, pushed back the covers, then scrambled out of bed. “Not any more! Good morning!”

“Good morning to you.” Turning to Mary, Katie shook her shoulder gently. “Now, Mary, you must get up, too. The sun is waiting for you.”

“I will.” But still, she didn't move.

“Now, please.”

Sullenly, Mary groaned. “I'm getting up. Where's
Daed
? Is he still here?”

“No, he left for work early today.”

Actually, he'd left almost three hours earlier. She'd had to scramble to get downstairs and help him make his breakfast and lunch before he hitched up his wagon.

“Tell me when you want to eat breakfast in the morning and I'll have it ready for you,” she'd said, once again trying so hard to be near him.

But instead of looking grateful, Jonathan had looked disconcerted in her presence. “You don't need to go to so much trouble. As a matter of fact, there's no need for you to be even getting up with me.”

She'd chuckled. “You obviously have forgotten that I'm used to living at an inn. I've made breakfast for dozens of folks. You will not be much trouble at all.” She'd opened the refrigerator. “How about some eggs and toast?”

“That…that would be fine.”

“And lunch? Would you care for some soup and sandwich?”

“Anything would be fine, Ka-tie.”

She'd busied herself at the stove so he wouldn't see her blush. But she couldn't seem to stop her reaction every time he said her name, so slowly, with a slight lilt. Like he was drawing out every sound.

Clearing her throat, she fussed around the girls' room for another moment or so. “I'll see you when you get to the kitchen. Don't tarry too long.”

“I'll hurry, Katie!” little Hannah said.

As expected, Mary said nothing.

 

Once again, Katie cooked a large breakfast. But just like the day before, the hearty meal of eggs and bacon, toast and fresh jam was a battle to get through. “These eggs aren't like Winnie makes them. Yours are too runny.”

Katie knew she made a fine fried egg—there were dozens of guests at the inn who could testify to that. But she tried to look remorseful. “
Hmm.
I'll try to do better tomorrow.”

“I don't like this bacon, neither.”

“You'll be hungry then, won't you?”

After a moment, Mary obstinately began eating, leaving Katie ready to go back to bed. With neither Winnie nor Jonathan there to run interference, Mary's jibes felt especially hard to take. She hoped Mary would back down from her one-girl war against her soon, because Katie knew her patience was near its end. One day soon she was going to retaliate with something mean right back.

Katie did her best, but the good Lord knew she was most certainly not perfect.

After breakfast was the usual running around, packing lunches and double-checking for all the homework supplies. Katie waved them off as they walked hand in hand to the Amish school, which was less than a mile away.

After the house was empty, Katie took the time to sip another morning cup of tea, then, without much more dillydallying, began her chores with a sigh.

This was when her day seemed the hardest.

She was used to the companionship of her mother, and the constant comings and goings of guests at the inn. Most recently, she'd had Anna—dear, talkative Anna. To Katie's pleasure, Anna had become her best friend in the world despite her few frustrations. Not only did they laugh and enjoy each other's company, making the tasks go by more quickly, but Anna also helped shoulder a lot of Katie's chores and work. Now, though, it was just her by herself. Katie found it lonely.

 

On her third day, just as she'd put on a kettle for tea, her mother came to visit. As soon as she opened the door and saw her, holding a large basket full of supplies, she burst into tears. “Oh,
Mamm
. I'm so glad to see you.”

“Ach
. Are things that bad?” she asked, curving a reassuring arm around Katie.

“Yes. No. Oh, I don't know.” She stepped aside so her mother could enter, then followed her to the kitchen, where only half the dishes were cleaned.

Her mother looked at her in surprise. “Katie?”

“Things are so different here. Even though I'm by myself, I'm having a heap of trouble keeping up with everything.” She pointed to the barn. “The animals. The chickens. That goat.”

Her mother chuckled. “That goat always was a nuisance. No one could ever get it to mind, even before we sold it to the Lundys. It gives good milk, though.”

Katie shook her head in wonder. Obviously some things never changed. Leave it to her mother to mention that fact. “It's not just that. I can't seem to get everything done.”

“You never had any problems at home.”

“At home I always had you and Rebekeh.”

Her mother almost smiled. “Careful, Katie, or you are going to sound as if you almost miss Rebekeh's bossy ways.”

“I almost do.” She held up a hand when her mother threatened to give into laughter. “Almost. Anyway, I guess I'm having trouble getting used to doing everything myself. Even working with Anna was a blessing.”

“Many hands make quick work. But even the most industrious can not be expected to do the work of many, Katie. Perhaps you are being too hard on yourself.”

“It's not the work. Well, not everything.
Mamm
, the hours drag by.”

Understanding dawned. “You are lonely.”

“I am. I'm sorry. I know that's not something I should complain about.”

“I would find this solitude difficult, too, Katie.”

“Really? You would?”

“Indeed I would.” With a thoughtful smile, her mother murmured, “My goodness, the Lord knew what He was doing when he guided your father and me to open our house as an inn. I have a lot of joy in our constant stream of guests.”

Katie's shoulders slumped. “I think I had joy there, too.”

“Well, no matter. Soon enough you will be back.”

“I suppose.”

“You suppose? What does that mean?”

“I don't know. Maybe I'm destined to be a single woman, helping out at the inn. But what if that's not my future? What if things improve between Jonathan and me? What if one day he is interested in having another wife…and I find that I've fallen in love with him? What would I do then?”

“
Ah.
Those are tough questions.” To Katie's surprise, her mother calmly considered the questions instead of just offering quick advice. “Katie, have you been praying?”

“I don't have time.”

“That, my daughter, is the problem, don'tcha think?”

Katie didn't think so at all. At the moment, taking time out to say a prayer merely felt like one more thing to do. But she couldn't admit that. “
Mamm
—”

Her
mamm
hushed her, then took her hand and walked her to the only clean room in the house. The
sitzschtupp,
the living room, the good room that so far no one ever used. After sitting down beside her, her mother gently said, “Let us give thanks to the Lord our God.”

They fell into silence, each praying with the Lord in her own way. A sense of peace filled Katie as she took time to give thanks for family and good health, for good neighbors and sunny fall days. As she relaxed and reminded herself that her life was in the Lord's hands, not her own, she felt all the stress from the past few days fall from her shoulders.

Her mother saw the difference instantly. “See now, dear? Nothing is so hard that it can not be shouldered with God's help.”

“I do see. Will you stay for a while?”

“For a little bit. I brought you some things for the girls.”

Katie was interested. “Such as?”

“I brought you your sewing and some new fabric. I thought you could help them work on a quilt.”

Katie struggled to conceal her dismay. “
Mamm
, I just don't know—they haven't shown much interest in sewing.”

“They will if you encourage it. Those girls will look to you for guidance, Katie.”

“But what if they don't?”

“You won't know unless you try. And it will do all
three of you some good, to keep those little girls busy. They'll see your love for quilting and want to give it a try. I promise.”

“But if they don't—”

“Then they won't. But in the meantime it might help all of you out.” She looked at Katie carefully. “Don't you agree that busy hands help an eager mind?”

But what of sour dispositions?
Yet, her mother did know so much. It was worth a try. “
Danke
, though I don't quite know how to get them started.”

Her mother chuckled. “It is easy, dear. Simply pull out the fabric and tell them it is time to begin.” Tenderly, she cupped her cheek. Her mother's hand was rough and strong, reminding Katie of just how much she'd done all her life to make their family life good and comfortable.

Had she ever truly appreciated her mother's sacrifices?

Leaving the basket in the living room, Katie followed her mother into the kitchen, where she efficiently put on an apron, then pushed up her sleeves and got to work on the dishes.

“Don't do those,
Mamm
. You have more dishes than you can count at home.”