With effort, she pushed all thoughts of him away and concentrated on the adorable faces in front of her.
As they peered at her, and she smiled right back, a few waved to her. Others scooted closer.
“What are you going to read today?” a boy in the front row asked.
“It’s a funny book that is going to need your help, children.” Holding up the bright cover, she grinned as many of the boys and girls stared in wonder at it. “It’s called Chicka Chicka Boom Boom.”
To her pleasure, the whole group started to giggle.
“The title made me giggle, too,” she said. “Do you think all of you could say it?”
One by one, each child called out the book’s title. Earning lots of laughter—and scowls from a pair of elderly men reading the paper in the back corner.
Ella didn’t let their displeasure worry her too much, though. Signs clearly announced that there was a children’s story time three days a week at noon. If a person really was looking for peace and quiet, he should take care to sit far from the reading area.
And anyway, Ella figured a twenty-minute story, filled with laughter and the merry sound of children’s voices, had to make even the most hardened of irritable people lighter of heart.
“Let’s begin,” she said, folding the title page back of the bold purple-and-green-colored book. “Chicka Chicka Boom Boom by Mr. Bill Martin, Jr. and Mr. John Archambault.” She looked around. Most of the children were sitting cross-legged, fidgeting. And some of their parents were looking at her warily. As if they’d hoped for something far different than a story involving such nonsensical words.
Ella’s nerves sang. This was only her third time to read aloud. The other two times had been successes, but perhaps each time wasn’t going to be as easy as she’d hoped.
Well, there was only one thing to do, and that was to try her best. After clearing her throat, she opened up to the first page, smiled at the wonderful bright, blocky drawings, and began: “ ‘A told B, and B told C, “I’ll meet you at the top of the coconut tree.’ ”
One by one, all the eyes of the kinner lit up and smiles of pure joy lit their faces. Ella found herself smiling, too. Oh, but she loved these storybooks!
Page by page, she read the silly alphabet story, delighting in the children’s enthusiasm.
Especially one little girl’s enthusiasm. By the time Ella was reading about “Q,R,S, and T,” she’d realized who that girl was—Katie Weaver. It had been some time since she’d seen the child, and even longer since she’d tried to put a name to her. Over the last two years, Ella’s attendance at church had been sketchy at best. And the days when she had gone, she’d been so worried about her mother, she’d hardly done more than quickly nod a greeting to everyone before escorting her home.
But now, as she closed the book, Ella couldn’t help but notice that Katie had scooted so close, she was almost at her feet.
“Kinner, thank you for coming today. That is the end of that.”
Broad grins and spontaneous clapping greeted her words.
“That was a gut buch, Miss Hostetler,” one of the parents said as she walked forward to claim her child. “You chose well.”
“Danke. It is one of my favorites.”
The woman’s son spontaneously hugged her knees, and Ella smiled and patted his shoulder. “I’m glad you had fun today. Maybe I’ll see some of you another time?”
“You will. Thank you, Miss Ella,” he said.
A few others chorused the same sentiments as they left.
Ella waved goodbye to them. Then couldn’t help but notice Katie Weaver was standing at her side, patiently waiting.
“Hello, Katie. How may I help you?”
After a glance toward Lucy, who she’d just realized was sitting on a chair by one of the windows knitting, Katie puffed up her chest a bit. “I want to do the summer reading program.”
Katie sounded so very solemn, and her posture was so stiff and assured, Ella crossed her arms over her chest, mimicking the girl’s stance. “Is that so?” she teased.
“Uh-huh. Is it too late?”
Belatedly, Ella realized that this was a very important topic for the girl. “Not at all,” she said softly. “Come with me, and I’ll give you the information.” Ella looked beyond Katie’s head and smiled at Calvin Weaver’s new wife. “Hello, Lucy. We’ve met before, but you might not remember. I’m Ella.”
“Of course I remember meeting you.” She stepped forward, all golden eyes and hair. “It’s nice to see you. You are a gut storyteller.”
The praise made her feel wonderful. But as she eyed Lucy’s delicate beauty, she started to feel awkward once again.
But almost as quickly, she shrugged off that feeling of insecurity. Lucy couldn’t help her looks any more than Ella could. And obviously, they were of no concern to Ella. “So, Lucy, how are you enjoying Jacob’s Crossing?”
“I am enjoying it very much,” she replied with a friendly smile. “Especially this morning’s visit to the library. I liked that Chicka Chicka Boom Boom book.”
“I do as well. I think I enjoy the books as much as the kinner,” she confided as she led the way to the circulation desk and a pile of brochures about the reading program.
Leaning down a bit, she showed the girl the packet. “Katie, every time you read a book, we’re going to give you a stamp,” she said, flipping the first page back. “At the end of the summer, we’ll give you stamps and perhaps even a special prize.”
“I want to read lots of books.” She looked toward Lucy. “She does, too.”
Lucy set a novel on the counter. “May I have a reading chart too, Ella?”
“Well, of course.” After giving Lucy a packet and stamping Lucy’s book, Ella started to turn away. But Katie stopped her with a little tug of her sleeve. “Miss Ella, do you work every day?”
“Almost. I work four days of the six a week. The library is always closed on Sundays.”
“I’m going to come back to see you.”
“I hope so.” Turning toward Lucy, she smiled again. “I hope you both do.”
After they said their goodbyes, Ella went back and rearranged some of the pillows and things that had gotten thrown about when the children had come.
Ms. Donovan joined her. “Ella, I want to let you know that we are so happy you’re here. Already, we’ve noticed an increase in children during story time. Two mothers who had never been to the library before confided to me that they specifically came because they heard you were such a wonderful storyteller.”
“That makes me happy to hear.”
“I’m glad.” Patting her forearm, Jayne smiled broadly. “You’re a terrific addition to our staff.”
“Danke. I mean, thank you,” Ella said with a smile. “I’m glad to be here, for sure.”
“I think it’s your lunchtime now.”
“Yes. I’ll eat my sandwich then work at the circulation desk.”
“Take your full thirty minutes, Ella. We don’t want to wear you out.”
“I’ll be fine.” Oh, if Jayne only knew how easy were her days compared to those of her previous life. Living isolated on the farm, keeping up with the garden, laundry, and cooking—added to the necessary time spent caring for her mother—her days had been exhausting.
Here things were a little scary but mighty fulfilling, too.
The rest of the hours flew by and before she knew it, she was walking home by Dorothy’s side. She seemed especially withdrawn and quiet, barely offering much more than one-word answers to Ella’s comments.
Only later did Ella remember that not once did Dorothy say a word about her success and Jayne Donovan’s praise.
No, if anything, her friend and neighbor only looked angry about it.
Later that evening, Ella invited Dorothy over for cobbler. Dorothy had done a lot for her, and E
lla wanted to make sure she didn’t feel taken advantage of.
When she’d first arrived, Dorothy still seemed sullen. But by the time she ate her last bite, she seemed more like her usual self. “I don’t know how you managed to make a peach cobbler today,” she said, finally thawing a bit. “But I’m glad you did. It was tasty.”
“Danke. It was my mother’s favorite recipe. And it’s very easy to make, you know. All you really need are the right products on hand to put it together in a snap.”
“Where did you find the peaches?”
“Corrine brought them by today.”
Dorothy stilled. “I didn’t notice her buggy.”
“She walked here from her home.”
“That far?”
“It’s only a forty-minute walk.” Feeling awkward, Ella added, “Corrine enjoys the exercise. Plus she knows how much I like to see her.”
“She seems to go out of her way for you.”
“She does,” Ella said with a smile. “She’s always been a gut friend.”
“But doesn’t she have a husband and family?”
Ella hesitated for a moment. “Of course. Dorothy, what is wrong? You’re acting like you don’t understand why Corrine would come visit me.”
“I’m merely surprised you two are such gut friends. Still.”
Dorothy’s conversation was definitely taking some getting used to, Ella reflected. She was so blunt and seemed to have no problem saying what was on her mind, at any time. “Why would you be surprised? Corrine is a very nice woman.”
“You have nothing in common.”
“We do. We’ve been friends for years, since we were small. Corrine and I used to trade sandwiches at lunchtime. I never liked my mother’s ham sandwiches.” She grinned, remembering the memories. “Of course, I never told my mamm, so she continued to pack me ham sandwiches.”
But Dorothy wasn’t even smiling. In fact, she looked confused.
With some surprise, Ella realized that because Dorothy was ten years older than herself, she’d never gone to school with her.
And so she’d never seen just what good friends she and Corrine really were.
Attempting to fill Dorothy in, Ella kept talking. “When I first started school, I didn’t have my glasses. Living on the farm the way we did, neither of my parents had much time to teach me my letters. When I went to school, it was the first time I had to see a chalkboard. Or try to read the tablets in front of me.” Smiling faintly at the memory, Ella shook her head. “Well, I couldn’t see anything. It all looked like fuzzy worms. But I was too shy to tell the teacher, so everyone thought I was dumb.”
“That’s horrible!”
Remembering the pain of those days, Ella nodded. “It was difficult. But Corrine sat right next to me at lunch and offered to help me. As a matter of fact, she was the one who realized I had a vision problem, not a reading problem.”
“What did your parents say?”
“They were terribly relieved. Glasses were easy to get, and they made my life much better. Obviously, I have a lot to be grateful to her for.” Well, until everyone stopped calling her “Dumb Ella” and switched to “Four-eyed Ella.” Of course, later, they called her “Plain Ella,” but she wasn’t eager to share all this.
“Now, though, you and Corrine probably don’t have much to talk about.”
“Oh, we still do. Corrine and I have a friendship so deep that even if we couldn’t see each other for a month, it would seem like we hadn’t been apart for five minutes.”
“Still, being a wife and mother is far different than living on your own and being a librarian.”
“Perhaps, but situations change, don’t you think?”
“Corrine’s won’t change all that much. Even when her kids are grown, you won’t have those experiences. And then she’ll be looking forward to weddings and grandchildren. You’ll have none of that.”
Stung, Ella stood up and carried their dessert bowls to the sink and started rinsing them off. “Dorothy, when I said that a situation would change, I was talking about my situation.”
“You think?”
“Well, jah. One day I’ll be married. One day I’ll have kinner and will be taking them to the library to be read to instead of being the one reading.” Even thinking about that made Ella smile. She could hardly wait to find the right man and begin living even more of her dreams.
One of Dorothy’s thick eyebrows rose. “You truly think that will happen to you?”
Ella tried not to let her feelings get hurt. Dorothy was just blunt, not cruel. “Well, I hope and pray that’s the case. I want to be a wife and mother.” Quietly, she added, “Every morning, I say my devotions and visit with God. I give him my thanks. And tell him that I’m so happy with his blessings, and am looking forward to finding out what else he has in store for me.”
A pinched look crossed Dorothy’s expression, one filled with doubt and scorn. Ella was shaken up by its intensity.
Where had that come from? Had Dorothy always harbored feelings so bitter and dark that Ella had been blind to?
Her words more fierce than ever, she said, “And do you really think He listens to you? To Ella Hostetler?”
“Of course,” Ella said, shocked that Dorothy would even ask such a thing. “The Lord always listens. He’s part of my world.”
“Just like me?”
“No, not just like you,” Ella said quietly. “He guides my life and makes everything clearer.”
“I doubt that.”
“I’m sorry to hear you say that,” Ella said, completely sincere. “I love being one with the Lord. I had hoped you felt the same way.”
But instead of nodding in agreement, Dorothy looked even more confused and disgruntled. Standing up abruptly, she said, “I need to leave.”
“All right. Are you working tomorrow?”
“I am,” Dorothy said, but didn’t offer to walk with Ella.
Going with Dorothy to the door, Ella opened it, saying, “Thank you for coming over.”
Dorothy merely walked out, leaving Ella feeling chilled.
Even in the hot August air.
Chapter 8
Over a week had passed since he’d last seen Mary. John Weaver took that as a sign that it was time to stop thinking about things he couldn’t have—and to focus on things he could.
Like maybe a date with Jayne Donovan.
Of course, asking her out was proving to be just as awkward as anything he’d ever done. From the moment she picked up the phone, he was stumbling over himself, trying to come up with the right words.
“So, I was hoping, if you weren’t doing anything Saturday night, you might like to have dinner with me,” John finished, clutching his phone a little tighter. Closing his eyes as his words echoed in his ear.
For heaven’s sakes! He sounded like an idiot! No, like a child. Like a pimply-faced teenager trying to find the courage to ask his first girl out for ice cream.
Not like a thirty-eight-year-ago grown man who was asking the town librarian out to dinner. The librarian! It wasn’t like she was a movie star or anything.
No, she was just beautiful and funny, and he thought about her way too much in the middle of the night.
The pause lengthened on the other end of the line. Obviously she was trying to find a way to let him down easily.
John bit his lip so he wouldn’t do something stupid, like beg.
“John?”
“Yes?”
“I . . . I hate to admit this, but . . .”
While she paused he wondered if he could live the rest of his life in Jacob’s Crossing and never see her again. The humiliation was too much.
“I’ve promised a girlfriend that I would dog-sit her dachshund.”
He wasn’t following her. He was getting rejected because of a wiener dog? “Oh.”
She chuckled. “What I’m trying to say—not very well—is, on Saturday I work from nine until three, and Minnie gets lonely.”
“Minnie, the dachshund?”
“Yes. Boy, I guess you can tell I’m nervous, huh? What I’m trying to say, is . . . would you mind coming over and I’ll make you dinner?”
His mouth went dry. She wasn’t rejecting him. Instead, she wanted to cook for him. All because she was the kind of person who took care of wiener dogs for friends.
“Jayne, I wouldn’t mind that at all.” Oh, he hoped he didn’t sound too awkward.
“Are you sure? I know it’s not a dinner out . . .”
“I live alone. I’d love a home-cooked meal,” he said in a rush. “That is, if it’s not too much trouble, what with the wiener dog and everything.”
“It’s not at all. Do you like steaks?”
He was now the luckiest man in the world. “I love steak.”
“Oh, good. I thought maybe we could grill, and I’ll just throw together a salad and pop some potatoes in the oven.”
Eager to help in some way, he asked, “How about I pick up a pie from the bakery?”
“I would absolutely love that. If you pick up anything chocolate, you’ll be my favorite person in the world.”
“I’ll do my best,” he promised, smiling alone in his living room. After he hung up the phone, John knew he would go to at least a dozen restaurants and bakeries if it meant he could bring her a chocolate pie.
After all, it had been a very long time since he had been any woman’s favorite person.
As Loyal handed Graham yet another piece of yellowed linoleum, he blew at the hair that seemed determined to stick to his brow. “Next time I buy a house in the middle of August, remind me not to pull up the linoleum and carpet right away.”
Graham grunted as he tossed the scrap into the trash pile and held out his hands for more. “I’ll tell you one thing, I’m definitely going to be sure I never volunteer to help you again. This is a schlimm job.”
As he felt yet another line of sweat drip down his back, Loyal couldn’t help but agree. “It is an awful job. But even you have to admit that it’s necessary. These coverings need to go. Underneath is lovely wood. It’s a shame it’s been covered up for so long.”
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