The Protective One

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  “Are you sure?”

  “Oh, jah. I’ll tell you another time. I promise.” She plopped down onto the couch with a look of relief. Curling her legs under her, she smiled up at him sweetly. “So … what brought you over?”

  You, he thought to himself. E.A. was becoming the person he needed when he had any news to share at all, he realized.

  “I got asked to pay Mr. Kerrigan a visit in his office this afternoon,” he said

  As he’d hoped, she looked impressed. “What happened?”

  “At first, I was worried that something went wrong with one of the trailers we’d been working on. Remember how I told you we got lots of orders all at once and have been scrambling?”

  “I do. And I remember telling you to be careful.”

  “Anyway, even though I was pretty sure nothing bad had happened, I kept running through different possible problems in my head.”

  “And?”

  “And, instead, Mr. Kerrigan asked me to be a shift manager.”

  “What? Oh, Will, that’s wonderful! Wunderbaar!”

  This was just the reaction he’d been hoping for, he realized. Her belief in him was making him believe in himself. Smiling at her, he reached for her hand and squeezed it. “It really is. It’s really gut news. I can scarcely believe it.”

  “I’m so glad you came over.”

  “I am, too, but there is something else I wanted to share. This promotion will be bringing some changes with it.”

  As their eyes met, her full smile slowly ebbed. “What kind of changes?” she asked quietly.

  “It’s at night.”

  She frowned. “But, the factory doesn’t run at night.”

  “It doesn’t now, but Mr. Kerrigan thinks that if we start a second shift, one that starts at two o’clock and ends around nine, we’ll be able to handle our workload.”

  “And he wants you to manage it.”

  “Jah.” Will blew out air. “I’m not going to lie. At first I was so relieved that I wasn’t in trouble I felt like accepting right away. And then I’m afraid my pride got the best of me. He gave me a lot of compliments. That made me feel good, too.”

  “Will, of course it did. You work hard and are well liked by everyone. There’s nothing wrong with people praising you for that.”

  “Mr. Kerrigan told me that I’d be able to choose the team. That’s a gift, you know?” As she nodded, he added, “This new job also includes a sizable pay raise.”

  Her eyes widened. “Congratulations!”

  “The extra money would be a good thing. I would be able to get my own place easily.”

  “Do you even want your own house?”

  “I will when I get married, E.A.,” he said gently. He wasn’t quite ready to speak of the two of them in that way, but he didn’t want her to think it hadn’t crossed his mind. When she blushed, he felt a surge of relief. He wasn’t the only one who wanted to make things permanent between them.

  He forced himself to continue. “But then, right when I was making all kinds of plans, Mr. Kerrigan reminded me of something else.”

  “What?”

  “That a lot of men wouldn’t want to leave their families every evening. And that, of course, reminded me that my evenings wouldn’t be free, either.”

  “We wouldn’t be able to see each other as much.” She sounded as dismayed as he felt.

  Meeting her gaze, he said slowly, “I’m worried that it might affect our relationship.”

  “Do you really think so?”

  “Maybe.”

  E.A. swallowed. “Will?” Her voice was uncertain. It was obvious that she wanted to ask him to explain how he was feeling but didn’t want to push him too hard.

  He knew what she needed. His E.A. liked to be sure. She liked knowing what to expect and where things stood. Still holding her hand, he shifted to look her in the eye. “Because every time we’re completely alone, I feel that it’s never enough. Because whenever I hold you in my arms, I’m not ready to let you go.” He leaned closer. “Because whenever we give into temptation and kiss, I realize that I don’t want to wait another week until I kiss you again.” He lowered his voice. “Is that clear enough for you?”

  Looking a bit dazed, she nodded. “Jah. I mean, I think so.”

  After staring at her parted lips for a full second, he leaned back, reminding himself that the very last thing they needed to be doing was start kissing in her living room. She needed to be able to trust him, and her parents needed to be able to trust him, too.

  “So, what do you think? What should I do?”

  Looking down at their linked hands, she smiled. “You should take it, Will. It’s a wonderful-gut opportunity. Too good to dismiss.”

  “But what about us?”

  “I don’t think there’s a worry there. Everything you said was true for me, too. There’s something between us that is stronger than schedules, I think. We’ll make do.”

  “I hope so, because once I tell my boss that I’m willing to lead a shift, I won’t be able to back out.”

  “I understand. Will, we’ve known each other our whole lives. Over and over, we’ve adjusted to changes. We can adjust to this one, too. We’ll simply see each other on other days when you aren’t working. Or in the morning. Or for lunch. We’ll make it work.”

  Already, his mind was spinning, making plans. But he was so afraid of messing things up, he asked one more time. “You’re sure?”

  “If you’re asking if I think what we have is worth changing our schedules around and making small sacrifices? Oh, yes. I think it’s worth that. Absolutely.”

  When she smiled at him, he felt everything settle inside of him.

  Perfectly.

  TWENTY−THREE

  “I don’t think anyone knew what to say when Marie showed up, shocked to see us. Half of the school and faculty witnessed her running toward us … as well as John telling her that he thought she looked mighty fine in her crown.”

  ONE WEEK LATER

  Will had known he’d have first-day-of-the-new-shift jitters, but he hadn’t imagined that they would be this bad. From the moment he’d walked in the front door of the factory, he’d been a nervous wreck. Will had started doubting himself, doubting the team he’d put together, even doubting the company’s ability to do what Mr. Kerrigan claimed was possible. Never before had he been under so much pressure.

  All of this insecurity was something new. He usually approached every situation with a grin and a shrug. He wasn’t one to second-guess himself, he just did his best, asked God for help, and continued on. But for some reason, none of that seemed enough.

  Standing in the break room, he made a fresh pot of coffee and gave himself a silent pep talk. In fifteen minutes, all the men and women on his new team were going to arrive and he would need to give them a pep talk.

  He needed to be the type of leader Mr. Kerrigan had thought he could be.

  He needed to get his act together and fast.

  “Hey, I’m glad I caught you before you started work,” John B. said as he crossed the room to his locker.

  “I walked in at the right moment, too. I just arrived.” Pointing to the industrial-size coffeemaker, Will said, “I thought I’d make sure we had some hays kaffi for this evening.”

  “Good idea.” John stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I won’t keep you, but I didn’t want to leave without wishing you well.”

  “Danke. I hope it goes well.”

  “I’m sure it will.” John looked at him more closely. “Wait a minute. Why do you look so worried?”

  Not wanting to share his insecurities, he shrugged. “Come on, you know how everything can go wrong.”

  “To be sure. But that’s life, right? What’s important is you know how to fix anything that can go wrong on those trailers.” He grinned. “Boy, remember two years ago when our order came in wrong and there was a gap in the cabinets? You figured out how to attach the new piece of wood and made it look seamless.”

  Will
had forgotten that. “We all worked together that day.”

  John nodded. “Jah, we sure did. But you led us.”

  He had led them. Until he’d carefully explained his ideas and organized the team, all of the men had been standing around debating choices. After he’d taken the lead, the cabinets had been fixed and installed in record time. “You know what? Maybe everything is going to work out after all.”

  “I know it will.” Lowering his voice, John added, “Will, I feel certain that Mr. Kerrigan didn’t make a mistake. You are the right man to lead this new shift.”

  “Danke.”

  John smiled. “No reason to thank me for telling you the truth. Though, I am going to miss walking home with you.”

  “I’ll miss it, too, though we didn’t get as many of those walks as we wanted.”

  “Guess we’ll have to make plans for the weekends, then.”

  Hearing some of his team walking down the hall, Will exhaled. “I better go.”

  John B. clasped Will’s hand in a warm grip. “Good luck, buddy.”

  “Danke,” he said before turning and walking out to the large gathering space where his new team was waiting for him.

  * * *

  John’s words rang in Will’s ears when he stood up in front of all the men and women ten minutes later. When he’d walked in, the twenty-five team members were all looking at each other like they were strangers. The quiet, obviously stilted conversations drew to a stop when he strode to the front of the room.

  “Do any of you feel like it’s the first day of school as I do?” he teased.

  Nervous laughter greeted him. “I thought I was the only one feeling like I wasn’t sure what to do,” Evan called out.

  Will chuckled. “Nah, I’m certain you are in gut company, my friend.” Looking around the room, he smiled. “I think all of this is going to take some getting used to, especially when it’s near seven o’clock and we get tired.” After a pause, Will raised his voice. “I want you to know that I have all the confidence in the world in each of you. Mr. Kerrigan told me to handpick the team, and each of you has graced me by accepting this new challenge. I am grateful.”

  He noticed that his words of encouragement were doing the same thing that John’s words had done for him: each member of his team seemed to relax with each word he spoke. “Now, as I look around this room, seeing so many of you who I’ve worked side by side with over the years, I couldn’t be more proud. You are some of the best employees in the company. I know we’re all going to work well together and be one of the best teams in the company. We can make a difference, I feel sure of it.”

  Then, clear as a whistle, Frank Foley’s voice rang out. “What you say, boss? Should we get started?”

  “I say yes, Frank.”

  The other men chuckled.

  Grinning easily now, Will said, “Let’s get to work. Each of you knows your job like the back of your hand. Let’s show Mr. Kerrigan that he was right to put his trust in us.” When several of them clapped, Will felt a lump form in his throat. He’d believed in himself and had believed in these folks, but until that very moment he hadn’t felt sure that they were going to be able to accomplish their goal. Now he was.

  They exited the room. The team walked downstairs into the large warehouse, greeting a few of the other men and women before walking to the far left, where Will’s team would be working.

  He stood to the side, watching as each member strode to his or her designated spot, put on leather work gloves, turned on the machines. Then, just as he knew they would, they all got straight to work. He walked along the line for a few minutes, pausing at each station to make sure each person had what he or she needed.

  Feeling better about everything, he pulled out his gloves and went to one of the first stations.

  “You going to work with us tonight, Will?” Frank asked. “I thought maybe you were going to stand around and watch.”

  “Jah, I might do that tomorrow night. For now, though? I think I’ll keep you company.”

  “In that case, stand right here,” Frank said. “There’s plenty of room for you.”

  Will nodded his thanks and got to work.

  The moment not only felt right: it felt very fine, indeed.

  TWENTY−FOUR

  “Can anyone tell me why you all decided to share this particular story on our wedding day?” John interrupted.

  WEDNESDAY NIGHT

  When the front door slammed, followed almost immediately by the sound of Alan’s car tearing down the road, Marta covered her face and wept. It had been a bad night. Worse than normal. Alan had been so angry.

  So, so angry.

  She’d known from the moment he walked in from work that he’d been in a terrible mood. Experience had taught her that she wasn’t going to be able to do a thing about it, either. He’d come home looking for a reason to hit her, and Marta had known he would find it.

  After giving into despair for a few more minutes, she wiped her face and forced herself to get to her feet. The kitchen was a mess, made worse by the splatters of spaghetti sauce that now stained the counters, walls, and floors. He’d shoved his dishes off the counter minutes after he’d hit her for … what was it again? She wasn’t exactly sure.

  Maybe it had been the fact that supper hadn’t been ready the moment he’d gotten home. Or it could have been the fact that she’d gone on a walk when he’d called so she hadn’t picked up.

  Or was it her hair? He didn’t like when she wore her hair in a ponytail.

  At least she knew by now that nothing she did or didn’t do was going to change the outcome. That understanding had saved her sanity … and propelled her to continue her plans. One day she was going to make dinner and simply enjoy it and then relax in front of the television. One day, things were going to be very different.

  Grabbing a sponge, she ran the water in the sink until it was hot and then started cleaning.

  Just as she was finishing the first pass of the countertops, she heard a knock on the back door. Before she could ignore it, the knob turned and Elaine poked her head in. “Marta?”

  Elaine was there? “Hi. Um, I’m sorry, but now—”

  Staring at her intently, Elaine’s expression crumbled. “Oh, honey.”

  Everything inside of Marta wanted to lie, say she was fine … but she knew it would be useless. She’d recently come to the realization that the only person she fooled whenever she attempted to cover up her cuts and bruises was herself.

  “Wh-what are you doing here?” she asked.

  “I was out running errands and came across the cutest sewing basket. I thought I’d bring it over as a surprise.” Looking embarrassed, Elaine said, “I heard him, Marta. I heard the things he said to you. I’m so sorry.”

  Marta was, too. But what could she say? Instead of speaking, she picked up her sponge and started wiping again.

  Elaine let herself in, walked over, and pulled the sponge from her hand. “Honey, you need to get out of here. You need to put a stop to this.” Her bottom lip trembled. “One day, I swear he’s going to really hurt you even worse.”

  She was pretty sure he already had. “I know it looks bad.”

  “It is bad, honey.”

  Marta shrugged as she reached to take the sponge back. There was a part of her that ached to tell Elaine about the money she’d been putting aside for a year, how she was sure she had almost enough.

  She wanted to tell her about the backpack, about how it was symbolizing the change inside of her and her plan to run away. She wanted to admit out loud how scared and angry she felt inside.

  But she’d learned to keep everything inside. Sharing brought questions about things she didn’t have answers for. Besides, what if Elaine told someone and Alan found out? She couldn’t take that risk.

  Walking over to a roll of paper towels, Elaine pulled a few sheets off. “I swear, it looks like a serial murderer was let loose in here.”

  The description wasn’t that far off. Marta almost
smiled. “Spaghetti sauce.”

  “I watched him drive off. Where did he go?”

  “I don’t know.” Wherever he liked to go whenever he was angry and upset. Maybe to a bar. Maybe to another woman? She preferred to not know.

  Feeling Elaine’s pity flow over her in waves, she rinsed out the sponge and started wiping at the wall. “It doesn’t matter. I … well, um, I’m sorry, but I can’t talk right now. I need to clean this up.”

  Elaine looked under the kitchen sink, pulled out a spray bottle of cleaner, and walked over to the range. “I’ll help you.”

  “There’s no need.”

  “I’m afraid there’s every need, hon. It’s going to take a while to make this right. Plus, you need to get cleaned up and get some ice on that face.”

  Shame coursed over her again. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t need to say a word. Just let me help you, okay? And please answer me this: Do you have a plan? Do you ever plan on leaving that … that man?”

  She nodded.

  “Really?” Doubt laced her tone. “When?”

  “Soon.”

  “Good.” She scrubbed the oven range harder. “Now, go take a hot shower and put on some fresh clothes. After we get this mess cleaned up, we’ll work on that ice.”

  Her face wasn’t the worst of it. But she nodded anyway. “I’m going to change. I’ll be right back.”

  “You take your time, honey. I have three kids. I can clean up spills with the best of ’em.”

  After giving Elaine a watery smile, Marta walked up the stairs, wincing with ever step. Then, as was her habit now, she walked directly to her closet, changing clothes as best she could without looking too hard at the welt on her thigh.

  Then, when she couldn’t put it off any longer, she walked to the bathroom and turned on the light to look at herself closely.

  Her reflection would have scared her younger self. Her eye was bloodshot. Her cheek was already bruising. Spaghetti sauce was in her hair and on part of her face and neck.

  After warming up the water in the sink, she carefully cleaned her skin. Dabbed it dry. Brushed out her hair and put it back into a ponytail.