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  “Fine. I’m talking about Andy Warner.”

  He was speaking of Andy? A chill entered her body and settled in. Wrapping her arms around her middle, E.A. took a deep, fortifying breath. Anything to stop the sudden rush of tears that had just filled her eyes.

  “David, Andy was my friend, not just some man I used to know.” Actually, he’d been so much more than that. He’d been the Eights’ leader, and their instigator. More than once he’d been her protector.

  He’d been that way with everyone, too.

  Sadness filled her as she thought of the boy he’d been. Oh, he’d been so many things. Loud and handsome and caustic. Yet, so very kind, too. He’d been a jumble of emotions and personality traits. He’d been complicated.

  Just like she was.

  Propping his hands on his hips, David looked at her directly. “Well, Andy Warner might have been your friend—”

  “No, he was my friend,” she said firmly. “Andy was one of my best friends.”

  He grunted. “All I’m trying to say is that he must not have felt the same way about you.”

  Elizabeth Anne gaped at him, shocked. “Of course he did. Why would you say that?” What she meant to say was How could you say such a thing to me?

  “Come now. He killed himself. That’s the most selfish, weak act a person can do.”

  “Don’t say that.” One, two tears slid down her cheeks. “You don’t know.”

  “All I’m saying is that no man who cares about his friends, who really cares about his friends, would take his own life.”

  Her temper flared. “You need to stop,” she ordered, her voice thick with emotion. “You didn’t know Andy at all. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  He stood up straighter, almost as if he were a parent delivering a lecture to a recalcitrant child. “I’m sorry if my words made you upset, but you know I’m right, Elizabeth Anne. All I’m doing is pointing out the truth.”

  “No, you’re spouting off your wrong opinions like you have a right to say them.”

  “I do. I have every right.”

  Not about Andy. Looking at him directly, E.A. wondered why she’d ever thought David could be the man for her. Getting to her feet, she said, “I think it’s time for you to go.”

  But he didn’t budge an inch. “Are you really going to get upset with me about this?”

  Yes. Yes, she was. She was finally going to get upset with him about a lot of things. About the way he timed his visits. How he only called her by her full name. And never tried to get to know her other friends. Or held her hand.

  But most of all, she was going to make him leave because she was finally admitting to herself that she deserved better. Someone much better.

  “Yes, I am,” she said finally. “I do believe I’m going to be very upset with you.”

  He sighed, like he thought she was being overly dramatic and would soon collapse in a fit of vapors or something. “I see. Well, then, I guess I should be going.” He stood and walked down the front steps. “I certainly hope you will be in better spirits when I come calling on Saturday night.”

  A quick vision entered her head—a vision of the two of them sitting on this blasted front porch swing again and again. Never doing anything but talking about the weather and their jobs. Never noticing the fireflies. Never being anything more.

  She couldn’t do it.

  “David, don’t come back Saturday night.”

  He turned around. “Say again?”

  “I said for you not to come calling on me next Saturday.” Feeling relieved that the decision was made, she continued. “In fact, I think it would be best if you didn’t come back here again.”

  His eyebrows rose so high, they hid under the brim of his hat. “You’re going to stay mad at me for that long?”

  “No. I’m going to finally move on. We’re done.”

  He looked incredulous. Went so far as to reach out a hand to almost touch her. “We can’t be done, Elizabeth Anne. What about all the time we’ve put into this?”

  “This isn’t about time spent courting, David. This is about the fact that we are too different. I mean, you don’t even understand how much Andy meant to me.” And how hard it had been to lose him.

  His expression hardened. “What will our parents say? They’re counting on this match.”

  But she didn’t want to be in a “match.” She wanted to be in love. Realizing that David would never understand that, she muttered, “They will have to be disappointed then.” Just as she was.

  “But—”

  “Good night and goodbye,” she said over her shoulder.

  Even though he was still staring at her in shock, practically frozen, she strode inside.

  She was fuming. She was so mad, her skin felt clammy and a bead of sweat was running down her brow.

  “Has it been thirty minutes already?” Daed asked as Elizabeth closed the door firmly.

  She took a deep breath and attempted to answer her sweet father in a calm tone of voice. “Jah.”

  “Ah. Well, yes. I guess it has, indeed, been David’s allotted thirty minutes.” Her father, who everyone said looked a bit like Santa Claus, smiled at her.

  Reluctantly, she smiled back at him.

  After folding the latest issue of the Budget on his lap, he looked at her over the rims of his reading glasses. “Well, how was your beau tonight?”

  For a moment, E.A. contemplated sharing with her father what had happened. Thought about explaining her feelings and how she knew there had to be someone better suited for her than David.

  But if she did that, Daed would call for her mother, Mamm would rush in, and then the three of them would have a “cozy discussion” that would last for at least an hour. There was no way she was up for that.

  “He was the same as always,” she finally said as she started up the stairs.

  “Elizabeth?”

  “I’m sorry, Daed, I’ve got to, um, go to the bathroom.” He looked taken aback, but nodded, leaving her alone with her thoughts as she climbed the steep stairs to her attic bedroom.

  Yes, David had been the same. Not very romantic, not very perceptive. It wasn’t even the first time he’d mentioned how mystified he was about Andy’s death and her continued mourning of him.

  She was the one who’d become different. Someone who wanted more, someone who felt she deserved more.

  Or, maybe, just maybe, she’d at last become her real self. The person she’d meant to be all along.

  Continue Reading…

  The Protective One

  Shelley Shepard Gray

  More from this Series

  The Patient One

  Book 1

  The Loyal One

  Book 2

  The Protective One

  Book 3

  The Trustworthy One

  Book 4

  Promises of Tomorrow

  Friends to the End

  Also available from Shelley Shepard Gray and Gallery Books

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  Friends to the End*

  The Patient One

  The Loyal One

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  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events a
re products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 by Shelley Shepard Gray

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  First Gallery Books ebook edition November 2019

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  Interior design by Erika Genova

  Cover art by Tom Hallman

  ISBN 978-1-9821-2804-3