The Protective One

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  “You know who. Your crazy student!”

  “Marta isn’t crazy.”

  “She’s a constant nervous wreck. Last week, I thought she was going to burst into tears when she dropped a bolt of fabric on the floor. You’d think that she’d be a lot more relaxed. I mean, all you are teaching her to do is sew seams on the Singer. She’s supposed to be taking this class for fun, right?”

  “She does enjoy it. She just, well, she just worries, that’s all.”

  “She worries a lot. Too much.”

  Lark spoke harshly, but she wasn’t exactly wrong. Marta was a nervous, frightened sparrow at times. Elizabeth Anne wasn’t exactly sure why she was so intent on championing her student, but she was.

  “I’m thankful to have a student, though. Our private students help the business, jah?”

  “That’s true.” Lark chuckled. “I’ll give you this—you’re nothing if not steady.”

  That didn’t sound like a compliment. “Thank you, I guess.”

  “You know I meant that in the best of ways. Being predictable is a good thing. I kind of like that you never change.”

  “I have made some changes lately.” After all, hadn’t she just broken up with David?

  “I guess you have. I mean, I was pretty shocked to see you walking with that handsome Amish guy today.”

  “Hmm?”

  “You know. He was walking your blue bicycle and was walking with you!”

  That’s because he was being kind, E.A. realized.

  “I’m not surprised. You two looked like you only had eyes for each other.”

  “Will is just one of the Eight. We’re gut friends.”

  “He isn’t your boyfriend?”

  “No.” Not that she had a boyfriend any longer.

  “I haven’t seen him around town. What’s his name again?”

  “His name is Will. Will Kurtz.”

  “What does he do?”

  She was starting to feel uneasy about the questions. “He works at the trailer factory. Why?”

  “Oh, no reason. It’s just like I said … he’s really cute. Hey, is he available?”

  Lark wasn’t much older than she was. She was also Mennonite like herself. E.A. had also thought Lark was dating someone pretty seriously, too. But maybe she was simply overreacting? After all, Lark actually was right. Will Kurtz was very cute.

  But she didn’t like the thought of Lark setting her sights on him.

  Maybe that was why she said what she did. “Nee. Will isn’t available at all. He’s taken.”

  She knew she should feel a little bit bad for telling that fib, but she didn’t. Not one bit.

  FIVE

  “First of all, we couldn’t see Marie anywhere. After waiting five minutes, John B. decided to go inside and find her. Well, none of us wanted to make John go in the gym all alone, so I parked the car, and all of us decided to go inside.

  “That was maybe our worst mistake.”

  FRIDAY AFTERNOON

  Marta Miner made it home from her sewing class in less than an hour. That had to be a record. On some days, it took her almost double that amount, especially if she had to stop by the grocery store and then carry everything home.

  When she and Alan had first gotten married, she’d driven all the time. Then, slowly, Alan gave her more limits. First, she could only drive to places he thought were necessary. Then, he restricted the distance from the house. Finally, he forbade her from using the car at all, and took her keys away.

  She wouldn’t be surprised if he’d put a tracking device or something on it so he would know if she took it out without his permission.

  Not that she would ever do anything like that.

  Well, not anymore. She’d learned her lesson soon after they married. Remembering how badly he’d beaten her, she hadn’t been able to leave the house for almost a week, her face had looked so bad. Her mother hadn’t understood why she’d canceled their planned shopping trip to the mall and had wanted to come over to check in.

  Boy, it had taken a lot of lies to stop her from doing that.

  Her mother, being no fool, had known something was up. She’d even put Dad on the phone, and he’d asked all sorts of questions.

  When Alan discovered that they’d both talked to her, he’d reached out and suggested they give her some space. In his best cajoling tone, he reminded them that they were newlyweds and that there was nothing wrong with Marta wanting to be at home with her husband.

  At least, that’s what her mother had told her several weeks later. Mom hadn’t sounded like she’d entirely believed Alan, but she had also stopped asking Marta out to lunch once a week, too.

  Marta hadn’t been able to admit that she missed those outings, either. Not without sharing the whole truth about her husband. But how could she ever tell her mother that she’d become afraid of him? It was too hard to admit.

  * * *

  Now that she’d survived ten years of marriage to Alan, telling lies to the rest of the world almost came easily. All she really cared about anymore was getting through each day.

  Standing in the front entryway of the house, Marta forced herself to remember how things used to be.

  Back when she and Alan had first married, she’d been so grateful to be out of her parents’ house that it hadn’t occurred to her to question any of her husband’s rules. She’d just wanted to make him happy.

  Then, over time—when she’d realized just how bad things could be if she made him unhappy—Marta had been merely trying to survive.

  Six months ago, Alan got a promotion at work. Now he was one of the managers at the plant. Two months ago, when they’d gone out to dinner with some of the other managers and their wives, she’d had to refuse an invitation for lunch because she didn’t have a way to meet the other women at the restaurant.

  Alan had gotten so embarrassed that he’d yelled at her when they’d gotten home. He’d handed her keys the next day and told her to call back the woman and say that she’d changed her mind.

  Yes, life with Alan had become a minefield, with her constantly worrying about making one misstep and paying the price for it.

  But things were changing. After all, she’d been brave enough to take sewing classes now. And, of course, she’d begun putting aside grocery money for the last year. And skimming some of the change from Alan’s pockets. She now had several hundred dollars carefully hidden so she could escape one day.

  Walking into the kitchen, Marta breathed a sigh of relief. She had worked hard all morning. The moment Alan left for work, she’d put a roast in the slow cooker and had cleaned the house from top to bottom.

  After her sewing class, she’d run to the pharmacy, picked up the items Alan had wanted, and neatly put them away. It had been a good day. She would have a lot of good things to tell her husband, because he would ask. He always asked what she did and how she did them. When she didn’t have news to report, he would get upset or ask questions. Lots and lots of questions.

  But at least he wasn’t home yet.

  After taking note that everything was still neat and clean in the kitchen, she took the People magazine she’d bought and decided to read it for a few minutes in the cozy chair in their bedroom.

  Looking at the clock, she got out her egg timer and set it for fifteen minutes. Yes. She’d have fifteen minutes to read before hiding it from Alan. He hated it when she read those magazines.

  After making sure she set the timer exactly right, she made a cup of hot tea, sat in her favorite chair, and happily dove into her newest purchase.

  After the timer went off, she promised herself to only read one more article. And then the time got away from her.

  “Marta?” his voice called out from the entryway.

  Panic engulfed her as she jumped to her feet, the magazine in her hand. She froze, wondering what to do, then hastily opened a drawer and stuffed it inside.

  “Marta? Where are you?”

  She cleared her throat. “Here! Sorry, I’m on my
way downstairs.”

  She forced what she hoped was a lighthearted smile on her face and walked downstairs. “How are you, Alan?”

  He was standing in the middle of the kitchen, looking around like he was searching for something. He looked up when she entered and slowly smiled. “Better now. How’s my girl?”

  Relief infused her. He was in a good mood. Her nights were so much better when that was the case. “I’m fine. I made a roast for dinner. Would you like to eat at six like usual?”

  He pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Of course.” He pointedly looked around the dark kitchen. “I hope that will give you enough time to finish getting dinner ready.”

  “Hmm?” She looked at the Crock-Pot. Noticed that it was still set on low and that it looked to be cooking nicely.

  “The potatoes, Marta?” he asked, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “You know I like mashed potatoes with roast.” With a new edge in his voice, he looked her over carefully. “Will you have time to get them done?”

  “I think so.”

  “What?”

  “Sorry. I mean, yes. Yes, of course.” She kept her expression neutral but her mind was spinning. Did they even have any potatoes in the pantry? What was she going to do if they didn’t?

  His gaze hardened for a moment before he smiled again. “I’ll leave you to it, then. I’m going to go change and answer a few emails.”

  “All right, Alan.”

  Just before he exited the kitchen, he turned back to her. “What were you doing upstairs?”

  “Oh, nothing.”

  “Are you sure? Because it doesn’t look like you were cleaning yourself up. Your hair is a mess.”

  As she knew he’d intended, she awkwardly ran a hand over her neat bob. “I’m sorry, Alan. I’ll fix my hair after I get dinner finished.”

  Luckily, his phone rang. He strode out of the kitchen.

  The moment he was out of sight, she rushed into the pantry. An icy trickle of sweat ran down her spine as she hunted for potatoes.

  Three! They had three! Quickly, she got out the potato peeler and set to work. She had thirty minutes to peel, boil, and mash them. If she worked really hard, she’d get them done on time.

  And if she didn’t?

  Well, Alan wouldn’t be pleased with her at all. Almost as displeased as he would be if he discovered she’d spent the last hour reading a magazine instead of fixing herself up better for him.

  She began to work the peeler faster as she remembered that she’d left her cup of tea on the table next to the chair in their bedroom.

  Please, God, don’t let him look in that drawer, she prayed as she picked up another potato.

  If he discovered that and she didn’t get these potatoes done, it was going to be a bad night.

  A very bad one.

  SIX

  “When we got to the dance, the first person we noticed was Andy Warner, who was slow dancing with some brunette. The minute he saw us, he left her side, which made his date kind of angry. She didn’t get any happier when he said he had to leave the dance for a while so he could help us find Marie.”

  SATURDAY NIGHT

  “Will Kurtz is here,” E.A.’s mother announced just outside her bedroom door.

  Looking up from the letter she’d been writing at her desk, E.A. smiled. Will had taken her up on her invitation. “Thanks, Mamm. Tell him I’ll be right down, would you?”

  “Sure.” She stepped back, then poked her head back in. “Not to pry, but is there a specific reason he’s here?”

  Frowning at her hair in the mirror, E.A. removed the small lace covering and then started pulling out pins. “Not really,” she said as she ran a brush through her almost waist-length hair. “I guess he felt like stopping by. It’s no big deal.” Just like it was no big deal that she suddenly felt the need to fix her hair before she saw Will.

  Her mother’s expression cleared. “Oh. Of course.” She stepped away before poking her head in E.A.’s room yet again. “Do you think he’s going to be the first of the Eight to stop by? If you’re expecting a crowd, I can make some popcorn.”

  Her mother’s question didn’t come from out of the blue. Ever since they’d gotten old enough, they’d all descend on one person’s house or another without a moment’s notice. E.A. used to ride bikes with Katie over to John B.’s and Andy’s houses all the time. Their houses were the most centrally located of the group.

  Even now, E.A. found herself looking at her friends’ driveways whenever she was going by their houses, just to see if any of the Eight were visiting. It seemed that old habits died hard.

  But this visit from Will wasn’t like that. He’d come over to spend time with her, not a member of the Eight.

  “Thank you, Mamm. That’s sweet of you. But I don’t think anyone else is coming over. It’s just the two of us. We’ll go sit on the front porch. So no popcorn is needed.” After twisting her hair into a low knot on the nape of her head, she picked up a couple of bobby pins. “I bet Will won’t stay longer than an hour or so.”

  Her mother smiled again but it looked strained. There was a new edge of worry in her eyes, too. “E.A., if you two are sitting on the front porch together, David might get confused.”

  “Confused?”

  “Well, yes. It is Saturday night.”

  As in, it was David’s chosen evening to give her thirty minutes. “David won’t be coming over tonight.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.” Looking in the mirror again, she wished she’d put on her green dress, but it was too late now. “Mamm, don’t worry so much.”

  But still, her mother lingered. “All I’m trying to say is that if Will is sitting on the porch with you, it might look like he’s here courting. David could get his feelings hurt. We wouldn’t want that.”

  Why hadn’t she simply told her parents that they’d broken up? Sure, they would have had a thousand questions, but at least she wouldn’t be having this conversation! “Mother, I don’t know what else to tell you. I’ve known Will for most of my life. He’s one of the Eight. You know that,” she said as she placed the white covering back on her head.

  “Understood. But sometimes—”

  “Mamm, he’s waiting, right?” After briefly putting on her favorite black flats, which looked like ballet slippers, she slipped on her rubber flip-flops instead. It was warm outside, and Will wouldn’t care.

  Finally satisfied with her appearance, she slipped by her mother into the hall. “I can’t talk now.”

  Something edged into her mother’s expression, telling E.A. that she wasn’t fooled for a minute.

  But, because she was her mother, Mamm didn’t say another word and just followed E.A. down the hall.

  Will was talking to her father when they got downstairs. The moment he saw her, he got to his feet.

  “Hey, you,” he said, his deep voice sounding a little more gravelly than usual.

  “ ‘Hey, you’ back,” she teased. “I’m sorry it took me a long minute.”

  “It was no trouble. Your father and I were talking about the county fair. It’s in a couple of weeks, you know.”

  “Is it?” Turning to her daed, she said, “I didn’t know you had already started making plans.”

  “Can’t help but get ready for it,” he said. “I’m anxious to see some of the livestock. I heard the Jennings family down the road are entering their pig.” Turning to Will, he grinned. “Have you seen that pig? He’s a good un.”

  “Nee, but I’m sure mei daed has. He always says Tom Jennings has a way with sows.”

  E.A. smiled at Will. “It looks like we’ve got a lot of things to catch up on. Want to come sit outside?”

  “Yep. See you later, Mr. Schmidt.”

  “Enjoy your evening, son,” Daed replied as he slipped his readers back on his eyes and picked up the last edition of the Budget.

  E.A. led Will out to the porch. As soon as she closed the door behind them she chuckled. “Sorry about that. My father is starved
for male company.”

  “No reason to apologize. You know I like your daed. I always have. I like how he always takes the time to chat with each of us about something.”

  “I do, too,” she agreed. Her father loved being around the Eight, and over the years he’d grown to know quite a lot about their interests. He could speak to Marie about her banking job as easily as he could speak about county fairs with Will.

  After glancing at the porch swing, Will wandered over to the side of the house, where there was a set of two bright red metal chairs. He sat down in one. “I know Marie and Katie enjoyed living on their own before they got married. Do you ever wish you were on your own as well?”

  She sat down in the chair next to him. “Not really. I like saving money by living here. And, well, being around my parents isn’t a hardship.” Even though they’d had their share of teenaged arguments, they’d enjoyed a good relationship by and large. Her parents were simply good people and had a nice way about them. They encouraged E.A. and her sister to do the things the way they’d taught them but rarely forced their opinions if the girls’ choices were different.

  “I feel the same way about my parents, though at times I wouldn’t mind getting a bit of space from Nan and Jake.”

  She giggled. He was always complaining about his younger siblings even though they were really nice. “So, you’re already making plans to visit the fair, huh?”

  “I’ve been thinking about it,” he said, propping his bare feet on the railing. “I haven’t gone in three or four years. It’s time to check it out again, I suppose.”

  “I’ve never been.” Though her father liked to see the animals from time to time, her parents were more of the sort to spend their free time going to a museum in the city instead of a county fair.

  “What? Well, you’ve got to go now. It’s great fun.”

  “Will, I can’t believe you like it so much!”

  “You’re gonna love it. You can go on the rides, eat too much, and see the animals.” Even in the dim light, she could see his brown eyes warm. “They usually have lambs, too. They’re adorable.”