Wanted

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  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 ha
d 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.”

  “Anna did them today. Together we will clean, Daughter, then we’ll cook, jah?”

  For the first time in years, Katie was grateful to get to work and be told what to do.

  Chapter 7

  That evening after the girls had their supper and they were waiting for Jonathan to return, Katie led the way into the living room. “Look what my mother brought over today—fabric.” After sitting down on the couch, she spread a few of the especially beautiful pieces of cloth on her lap. The rich colors of butter yellow, dark red, and bright, vivid blue made Katie feel like she’d just brought the best of God’s bounty into the room. “Aren’t these fabrics pretty? Which one is your favorite?”

  Hannah shyly pointed to the yellow.

  Katie moved to place it on top of the others. “Jah, that is a wondrous color. It shines as pretty as the daffodils in May.” Turning to Mary, she said, “Which one do you like?”

  “None of them.” Instead of sitting, Mary remained where she was, militantly glaring at the fabric like the swatches were terrible intruders infringing on her routine. “We’re not supposed to be here in this room.”

  “Why ever not? It is a pretty room, to be sure.”

  “It is the sitzschtupp, our special living room. It is only for visitors.”

  It was on the tip of Katie’s tongue to remind Mary that that was exactly what she was. She sure hadn’t been treated like part of the family.

  However, her mother’s good example was fresh in her mind, and that gave Katie the courage to push a little harder to make inroads. Sooner or later, Mary was going to have to bend a little, surely! “There’s a mighty nice fireplace, we could ask your daed if we could make a cozy fire and begin work on a quilt tonight.”

  Though Hannah carefully nodded, Mary scowled. “He’s going to say no.”

  “He might surprise you. All men enjoy a new quilt.”

  “I don’t want to make a quilt. You’re not going to make me do this, are you?”

  “No, of course not,” Katie said, but had a difficult time hiding her surprise and disappointment. Quilting had always brought her a great amount of joy. It was also something she felt proud about and comfortable teaching others to do. She’d been hoping to use quilting to forge a bond with Mary.

  Meekly, little Hannah tugged on Katie’s sleeve. “I do. Am I too small?”

  “Not at all!” Opening her arm, she moved to one side as Hannah scooted closer. “I was younger than you when I pieced my first quilt. Mary, by the time I was your age, almost seven—why I was anxious to begin all kinds of projects.”

  Mary backed away, literally pulling away from her in both spirit and space.

  However, Katie couldn’t let Mary do that. If she didn’t make the girl do anything she didn’t want, they’d never make progress. And Katie really wanted to become friends with the little girl. “Come here, Mary, and give me your time, please. This task is important to me.”

  “No, I—”

  “Please Mary. Sit down. I think you should try, yes? If not for my sake, then try working on this for my mother’s. She was so hoping you would enjoy quilting.”

  Little by little, Mary unbent enough to come forward and join her sister.

  With a glad heart, Katie watched Mary try her best to join in the activity. For an instant, Mary’s behavior reminded Katie of her own. She remembered more than one occasion when her attitude had not always been pleasing or kind. Mary might be going through some of the same growing pains. In a wo
rthy imitation of her mother, Katie stated, “We’re going to start on this quilt. I’ve decided.”

  Mary’s eyes narrowed. “Daed’s still going to be upset we’re using this room.”

  “I will ask your father about it when he gets home.”

  At that moment, the back door opened wide. “Here he is,” Hannah announced. “Daed’s home!”

  Katie heard Jonathan carefully remove his coat and hang it up. “Daed, we’re in the sitzschtupp,” Mary called out.

  Slowly, he walked to them. “Hi, Jonathan,” Katie said, greeted him with a sunny smile.

  Once again, he met her gaze, then cleared his throat. Somewhat gruffly, he said, “What are you all doing?”

  “I was showing the girls some fabric. I’m going to teach them to quilt.” Katie grinned again, hoping her enthusiasm would catch on.

  To her dismay, Jonathan didn’t look encouraged. “They already have school, homework, and chores. Isn’t that enough?”

  Before Katie could explain how quilting gave her joy, not the burden of work, Mary snidely interrupted. “She wants to take over this room.”

  A muscle in his cheek jumped. “There is no reason for that.”

  Katie made a decision. “Girls, please go put your things away.”

  However, Mary and Hannah did not instantly obey. Instead they looked to their father for guidance. It was only after he nodded that they stood up and walked out of the room.

  When they were alone, Katie motioned for Jonathan to sit. Like the girls, he seemed terribly reluctant to do so. Instead of leaning back in the chair, he perched on it, looking eager to rise and leave at a moment’s notice.

  “What is it about this room that makes you uncomfortable?”

  “It doesna make me uncomfortable. It’s rather that it is a special place. You see, it was Sarah’s pride and joy.” His words sounded bitter. Resigned.

  To her eye, the room looked as plain and unwelcoming as the rest of the house. “It is a pleasing room, to be sure.”