by Beth Wiseman
“I miss you,” Eli said before even saying hello. “I miss you so much I can’t stand it.”
She’d been wrong to think she had no more tears left.
Instantly her cheeks were wet as she responded. “I miss you too.”
“I’ve been calling, and I . . .”
She could hear him take a deep breath.
“I’m back in Middlefield.”
“What?” She tried to control the shakiness of her voice. “I thought you were going to stay in Florida longer.”
“I was. But I just wanted to go home.”
Katie Ann bit her bottom lip. “Oh.”
There was an awkward silence for a few moments.
“Katie Ann?”
The way he said her name caused her to hold her breath for a moment. “Ya?”
“What am I doing?”
“What do you mean?”
He waited a moment before he spoke. “I’m a middle-aged Amish man who dreamed for years about an independent life.
And now . . .”
Katie Ann sat up in bed. “What is it, Eli?”
“Those dreams just don’t seem important anymore.”
One of the things that Katie Ann loved about Eli was his joyful spirit. She’d never heard him sound so sad. “What do you want?” She closed her eyes, fearful of his answer.
“I don’t know.”
Another tear spilled down her cheek. What had she been hoping for? That he would say he loved her and wanted a life with her? It was too much to wish for, and anger quickly started to replace the hurt she felt. “I’m sorry your trip didn’t go as you’d planned.”
She knew her words were clipped, and as she raised her chin in the darkness, she knew that she was going to have to distance herself from Eli. She’d thought she could be happy with her best friend, but she needed more, and Eli sounded like a lost puppy. He didn’t know what he wanted, and in truth, Katie Ann wasn’t sure what she wanted either. She’d opened her heart to him, trusted again, and now . . .
“My life is here in Ohio, not out running around like I’m ab im kopp.”
She pulled the phone away for a moment, took a deep breath, and tried not to sound like a woman on the edge. “I don’t think you’re crazy, Eli.”
“I feel like it.”
Katie Ann knew what she’d signed on for, and she knew that a friend should offer a sympathetic ear, but just hearing Eli’s voice made her long to be with him. “It’s late, Eli. I’m sure you’ll feel better tomorrow.” She closed her eyes, knowing her own emotions were putting limitations on her ability to soothe Eli’s troubled heart.
Silence, until Katie Ann finally asked, “Eli, are you still there?”
“Ya.”
More silence followed.
“Katie Ann . . .” He paused. “Can I come visit you?”
She put her hand over her mouth for a moment to keep from gushing in an inappropriate way. After composing herself, she said, “That would be nice.”
“I have to take care of some things here, but what about next week?”
“I’d like that.”
After they hung up, her heart fluttered like that of a young girl. Any decision she’d previously made to distance herself from Eli seemed as far away as he was. She couldn’t wait to see him.
MARTHA EASED INTO her recliner late that evening, her heart heavy for Katie Ann. She should have known the girl’s heart couldn’t hold up to the boundaries she and Eli had set, and she wondered how Eli truly felt about her friend. She was tempted to find out, but Katie Ann would have her hide if she interfered in her business. Of course, Katie Ann had certainly interfered in Martha’s business by calling Arnold. But Arnold would be coming home, and Martha was giddy as a schoolgirl about that. She sure wished Katie Ann’s future looked brighter in the romance department.
She remembered the coffee cake she’d brought home from the bakery in Monte Vista yesterday. A slice of cake and some hot tea sounded like heaven right now. As she shuffled to the kitchen, she wondered if Arnold was going to ask her to marry him. Seemed the logical next step. She twisted her mouth back and forth, knowing she was mighty set in her ways. But she sure did love Arnold.
Scanning the countertop, she put her hands on her hips. Where is that cake? Finally she spotted it at the far end of the counter. She peeled back the foil and frowned. There was a large chunk missing that hadn’t been missing before. She was sure of it. Or was she?
She scratched her head. Is this what old age is like, Lord?
She sliced herself a small piece and put it on a plate, then brewed a cup of tea. Once she was back in her recliner, she was wishing she had a nice fire in the fireplace, but that just seemed like too much work. She clicked on the television, put her feet on her ottoman, and savored the delicious coffee cake.
“Reruns. All reruns.” She flipped between channels on the television, finally settling on an old John Wayne movie that was nearing the end. She had twenty good minutes of television before the movie ended, and after another round of channel changing, she turned the TV off. Too early to go to bed, but her eyes were heavy. Leaning her head back against the chair, she knew she needed to get to her bedroom before she fell asleep in the recliner. Suddenly, a noise upstairs caused her eyes to bolt open and sent a chill up her spine. She held her breath, trying to identify what she’d heard. Had something fallen over?
Her heart thumped, and she stared at the ceiling as her eyes followed the sound above her head. She recalled the time a squirrel had tried to take possession of her upstairs. She’d had to call David to come get the furry creature outside again. But this sounded larger. Maybe a raccoon. And she knew raccoons could be mean little fellows.
She eased out of her chair, quiet as a mouse, then tiptoed to the kitchen. Once she’d located the broom, she headed toward the stairs, armed and ready to meet her intruder. But when she flung the door open to her extra bedroom and flipped the light switch, she screamed at the top of her lungs.
And so did Danielle.
Fifteen
MARTHA EDGED FORWARD WITH THE BRISTLY END of the broom, poised and ready to pounce. As she made a hissing noise, she pushed the broom within a few inches of the girl.
Danielle stepped backward until she was standing up against the dresser. “Stop it! Are you crazy?”
Martha didn’t lower the broom. “With all due respect, missy . . . you are the one who has broken into my house, and . . .” She saw her favorite jasmine vanilla lotion on the top of the dresser . . . next to a half-eaten loaf of garlic bread. She narrowed her brows and scowled. “What are you doing up here?”
Danielle shifted her weight, and Martha noticed that both eyes were wide open and the stitches on her cheek were gone, leaving a red mark down the side of her face. Her bottom lip was still swollen on one side.
“If you’ll just move that broom, I’ll leave.”
Martha raised her chin. “No. You answer the question. What are you doing up here?” Now Martha noticed a bag of Fritos, two of her colas, and three dirty dishes on the floor by the bed. “And exactly how long have you been here?”
“I—I don’t know. Maybe a few days. Maybe longer.”
Martha thought she might fall over. “So I’ve been sleeping in my bed downstairs while a thief has been living above me.”
She shook her head. “Unbelievable.”
“I’m not a thief!” Danielle clenched her fists.
Martha nodded to the pile by the bed. “Oh, really. Then what do you call that? Were you gonna leave an IOU?”
“I’ll pay you for it.”
Martha lowered the broom and held it like a pitchfork by her side. “Fine.” She held out her free hand, palm up. “Pay up.”
“I—I’ll have to go get the money and bring it back to you.”
Martha laughed. “Sure you will.” She walked to the bed and sat down atop the pine green bedspread she’d had since the sixties. She rubbed her forehead for a minute. “How’d you know where to find me?” S
he sat taller and frowned. “And why did you come here?”
Danielle shrugged. She was a petite little thing, and leaning up against the dresser, her wounds still not completely healed, she didn’t seem very threatening. But surely Martha deserved to know why the child had taken refuge in her upstairs.
“If you don’t want me to call the cops, I suggest you start talking.”
“I’ll leave. I’m sorry.” She edged toward the door.
“Danielle, wait.” Martha stood up, and slowly Danielle turned around. “Are you hiding from someone? From whoever did that to you?”
“I gotta go.”
Danielle rounded the corner, and without giving it much thought, Martha yelled the first thing that came to mind.
“You can stay if you want!”
Martha waited, and she heard the footsteps on the stairs stop. A moment later Danielle crept back over the threshold. “Why would you let me stay?”
“Why did you come here in the first place?” Martha had suddenly realized what was missing out of her wallet. An ID card that she carried, which listed her address.
Danielle shrugged, eyes to the floor. “I dunno.”
“Sure you do. Something sent you my way.”
She kicked at the corner of the doorway with her scuffed-up white tennis shoe. “I heard you say no one lived up here.”
Martha fought the urge to make a smart remark. Instead she took a deep breath. “I’m going to bed. It’s late. I suggest you do the same.” She pointed to the pile of dishes on the floor. “This is not how we do things around here. First thing in the morning, I expect to see this room cleaned up.” She glared at her lotion on the dresser. “And my lotion back downstairs on the table by my recliner, where I’ve kept it for years.”
She stood up, walked past Danielle, and was almost to the stairs when Danielle called her name. She turned around. “What?”
“Are you going downstairs to call the police?”
Martha pushed back a strand of hair that had fallen forward and sighed. “No, Danielle. I’m not. Now get some rest.”
Good grief. Lord, what have You got in store for me now?
WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON THE air was a bit chilly, but the sun was shining. Katie Ann bundled up Jonas and took him out to the barn with her, thinking he could use some fresh air. She had some leftover ham for Mrs. Dash, who’d left two more mice on the porch.
She eased into the barn and saw the cat curled up in a big ball in the corner on the quilt. She squatted down with Jonas.
“She’s going to have a boppli, Jonas. Probably several.”
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a baggie halffilled with pieces of ham she’d torn into bite-sized pieces. Expecting the cat to bolt, she was surprised when Mrs. Dash just stared at her. And this time her ears weren’t flattened to her head.
“Here you go, girl.” She tossed some of the ham closer, then waited. “Mrs. Dash is learning to trust us, Jonas.”
She nuzzled Jonas’s nose with hers, and he made a strange cooing noise. Katie Ann waited for the cat to sprint around the corner. But instead, Mrs. Dash rose from her spot, arched her back in a stretch, and moved closer to the ham. Katie Ann didn’t move. After a few moments, Mrs. Dash was within a foot of her, the closest the cat had ever come.
Katie Ann thought about all the prayers she’d said, asking God to help her trust His plan for her, whatever that might be. Figuring cats don’t pray, she silently prayed that God would take care of this big black cat and that she would deliver healthy little kittens.
And maybe you could send a Mr. Dash to help her.
It was a strange ending, and probably even odder to be praying for the cat, but her father had always said there was a place in heaven for animals.
She rose slowly, so as not to spook the cat. Once she was standing, Mrs. Dash looked up, but quickly lowered her face and finished off the ham. She hadn’t even finished chewing her last bite when she went around the corner, but it was progress.
When she got back inside, Katie Ann put Jonas in his swing, which he enjoyed more all the time. She cranked the handle, then went to the kitchen to make sure she had everything she needed to cook supper for Eli that evening, and she tried to keep worry from her heart. She wanted to enjoy her time with him, and she was going to do everything she could to keep things in perspective and to see their relationship for what it was.
Her excitement about his coming overrode everything else. Even Martha’s situation with her new houseguest. Martha still came by daily, and twice she’d brought Danielle. The teenager didn’t say two words either time, and mostly sat on the couch fidgeting.
Katie Ann had asked Martha privately if she should be housing a child without the parents’ permission, but Martha said they weren’t very good parents if they had let something like this happen to their daughter. Katie Ann didn’t know what to think. Arnold was due back tomorrow, and Katie Ann knew he’d keep an eye on the situation.
She heard a knock and looked at the clock, knowing it was much too early for Eli to arrive. When she opened the door, she saw Lillian.
“Come in out of the cold.”
Her sister-in-law didn’t take off her coat or bonnet, but instead handed Katie Ann a letter. “The postman brought this to our haus instead of here, so I signed for it. It’s from Robert Dronberger. Isn’t he a lawyer back in Lancaster County?”
Katie Ann took a deep breath. “Ya. I believe so. Do you want some tea?” She walked toward the living room.
Lillian followed, still in her winter gear. “Why is he sending you a certified letter?”
Katie Ann turned to face her. She knew exactly why Robert was sending her a certified letter. Most likely because she hadn’t responded to his other three letters.
“I—I think he is handling some things.” She took a deep breath. “Things for Ivan. I mean, things of Ivan’s. I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I think I am the owner of anything that was Ivan’s, since we were still married.”
“Oh.” Lillian bit her bottom lip and stared at Katie Ann for a moment. “Do you have to go to Lancaster County?”
Katie Ann thought about the past three letters since Ivan’s death, all requesting her presence in Lancaster County. “I think so.”
“When?”
“I don’t know.”
“Hmm . . . I wonder if you will have to go get anything of Ivan’s from Lucy’s house?”
Katie Ann folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t want anything of Ivan’s. Besides, if you’ll recall, Ivan left here with almost no money. Any money that he made while he was with Lucy, well, I suppose it should go to Lucy.”
Just then Katie Ann had a horrible thought. What if there was money or a house or something that was tied up legally, something that should go to Lucy and her baby? She didn’t want anything to do with Lucy, but if there was money that was rightfully Lucy’s, Katie Ann didn’t want to be the one holding things up. “I’ll go soon.”
“Well, uh . . . Ivan’s been dead for, uh . . .”
“Ya, I know. Seven months.” Katie Ann recalled the first letter, which had arrived about a month after Ivan’s death. At the time she had scanned it, but knew she couldn’t face a trip to Lancaster County. The second letter arrived a month after that, and the third had come last month. Each time she read the letters, she’d put them away . . . to deal with another time. Now time must have caught up with her.
“Eli is coming for a visit.” She was anxious to change the subject, even though she knew her comment would spark questions from Lillian.
Her sister-in-law smiled. “Gut news. How long is he staying?”
“He told Vera he would be staying for a few days.”
Lillian shook her head. “I don’t know why he doesn’t just pack up and move here.” She grinned.
Katie Ann frowned. “Lillian, that’s impossible. His family is there. And as you know, we are just—”
“Ya, ya . . . I know. Just friends. That’s what you keep saying.” Li
llian sighed. “I have to run. Enjoy your supper.” She winked at Katie Ann before she closed the door behind her.
ELI CHATTED WITH Vera, Elam, and Levi until he thought he might explode from politeness. All he wanted to do was get to Katie Ann’s house. Betsy bounced in and out of the living room, usually with a book in her hand. She’d read for a while, then share something about what she’d read, then mosey back upstairs. January was generally slow for all Amish folks, so it wasn’t surprising that Elam and Levi were inside with Vera and Betsy on this cold Wednesday afternoon.
“Gut to have you back for another visit.” Vera handed him his second cup of coffee.
“Danki, Vera.” He smiled.
“Stay as long as you like.” Vera folded her hands in her lap from where she was sitting across the room from Eli. Then she asked about all of Eli’s children, how he enjoyed Florida, and what he planned to plant this spring. But she must have caught him looking at the clock.
“I imagine Katie Ann has supper almost ready. You don’t want to be late.”
Eli looked at the clock again. It was only three thirty, too early for supper, but he was going to take his cue and go. He stood up, and Elam walked him to the door.
“I’ll help you get the buggy hitched up.” Elam pulled on a heavy coat and gloves.
Eli pulled his hat and coat from the rack by the door.
“Danki, Elam,” Eli said once the buggy was ready. His cousin stroked his beard, clearly with something on his mind. “What is it, cousin?”
“I’m not sure there is anything more fragile than a widow’s heart, Eli.”