The Protector Read online

  Loyal had the sinking suspicion that she would have put a book away if kids had ever invited her to play. Unbidden, a memory rushed forward, of her showing up at his house for his birthday. He’d been so surprised to see her, he hadn’t thought to greet her properly.

  Later, he found out that she’d left, not even going inside, because he’d ignored her.

  And that had shamed him.

  “Let her be,” Calvin whispered again. “If anything, your presence will embarrass her. The folks who haven’t left yet will watch. And then they’ll talk. It’s better just to keep your distance.”

  What his brother said made sense. He turned away and went back to inspecting the stalls.

  But every so often, Loyal still felt Ella’s gaze on him.

  And still felt her pain.

  Chapter 2

  As the horse languidly clopped along over the concrete, hot summer air blew into the buggy. The slight breeze offered Ella a momentary respite from the humidity.

  Not enough for any true relief, though. The back of Ella’s neck was damp with perspiration, and she felt as if every muscle in her body was sore. That had to be the by-product of a week’s worth of worry and stress.

  Ella was glad that Corrine’s husband and brother had helped move her things into her new apartment the day before. Though she had lots of boxes to unpack and regular chores to look forward to, nothing sounded as good as a cool shower, a few minutes sipping chamomile tea, and a few precious moments to read a chapter of her newest book.

  However, Corrine didn’t see things that way. For the majority of the journey to her new home, her girlfriend had fretted. “I do wish you’d reconsider my invitation,” she said yet again.

  And yet again, Ella deflected her worries. “All I want to do is relax, Corry. I can do that best on my own.”

  “Oh, I know you’re tired. And I know you only want to sip tea and read.”

  Ella caught the slight edge of sarcasm. “It’s what I like to do.”

  “I know. But we have tea at our house. And if you were there, Peter and I could visit with you, too.”

  “We’re visiting now,” Ella said gently. What she wanted to add was that she yearned for peace and quiet. Not conversation.

  Corrine darted an exasperated glance her way. “I just hate to think of you spending your first night away from the farm in an apartment.”

  Ella couldn’t help but notice that every time Corrine said “apartment,” she winced. “It’s actually more than just an apartment, you know. It’s half a duplex. And it’s my new home. I’ll be fine.”

  “That’s not the same as being comfortable. I have the guest bedroom all ready for you.”

  “I thank you, but I won’t be needin’ it,” Ella said as Corrine pulled her horse to a stop in front of a two-story clapboard home on the main road through Jacob’s Crossing. “I’ll be fine here. Besides, I won’t be alone. Dorothy will be on the other side.”

  Corrine nibbled her bottom lip as she looked at the duplex. “I wish you wouldn’t have rushed to take Dorothy up on her offer of lodging. Living here seems like a punishment.”

  It was, indeed, a far cry from the farm where she’d grown up. Instead of acres of wildflowers, gardens, and woods, she now had a small backyard and nary a tree in sight. Instead of having a large, comfortable farmhouse to move around in, she was going to be cramped in half of a house. But it would be fine. It had to be. “It’s certainly no punishment.”

  She scampered out, thankful for their buggies’ lack of doors. Ella was sure she would fairly scream if things dragged on much longer.

  With a sigh, Corrine picked up the reins. “All right. I can see you’re anxious to leave. I’m going to check on you tomorrow. If you get scared tonight, living in the middle of town like this, you can come to our house.”

  Ella held back a smile. Corrine really did have a heart of gold. “I won’t be scared. Actually, I’m so exhausted, the only thing I will likely be doing is closing my eyes. And I can’t think of a better thing to do than sleep in my own bed.”

  Looking over her carefully, Corrine finally smiled. “I suppose you’re right. Gut nacht, Ella. Sleep well.”

  “Gut nacht, to you, too,” she said, then got out her last suitcase and waved her sweet friend on. “And thank you. You made today bearable.”

  The moment Corrine’s buggy moved on, Dorothy stepped out of her front door. “You are finally here!” Coming forward, she wrapped Ella in a generous hug. “Wilkum! I thought you’d never arrive.”

  As Ella tiredly curved her arms around Dorothy’s generous girth, she fought to keep a smile on her lips. “What a nice welcome. Danke! I didn’t expect to see you until tomorrow at work.”

  “We’re neighbors now. I think we’ll see each other all the time.” An edge entered her tone as she stepped back and looked Ella over. “Besides, I’ve been waiting for hours, practically going blind, staring out the window. It’s after eight o’clock. What took you so long?”

  A twinge of alarm flashed through Ella. Why was Dorothy acting so possessive? “I was at the auction, of course.”

  “Couldn’t you leave it?”

  “I didn’t want to.”

  “But the people who ran the sale didn’t need you to sit there and watch . . . did they?”

  “No,” Ella conceded. “But still, I couldn’t leave, not if people had questions.”

  Dorothy’s piercing light gray eyes seemed to weigh her answer and find it wanting. “Is that right? When I stopped by the auction earlier today, I didn’t even see you. I looked all over the area and in the tent.”

  “I’m sorry I missed you. I wasn’t with the people buying things. I tried to stay out of the way.” Ella fought back the urge to apologize further. She hadn’t done anything wrong, but Dorothy was looking at her as if she had. “Why were you there?”

  “I came to shop of course.”

  “You went to purchase items?” Ella knew her voice had turned husky, but she didn’t care.

  “Oh, jah,” Dorothy said in that matter-of-fact way of hers. Just like they were talking about new fabrics for sale at the Wal-Mart in Middlefield. “There were some mighty good prices to be found. Bargains, they were.”

  Bargains on her family’s possessions. “I see . . .”

  Dorothy prattled on. “I didn’t stay long. I left as soon as I bought a few things.”

  Perhaps she was simply tired, but the whole conversation was making her uneasy. Though she knew she was being silly, Ella felt betrayed. Somehow she’d imagined Dorothy would feel as strange about the sale as Corrine did. Ella knew she would herself, if the situations were reversed. With a hint of reluctance, she asked, “What did you buy?”

  “Your mother’s ceramic nesting bowls. And a pretty basket. You know the one that was always in your front hall?”

  “I know it.” Her heart wrenched for at least the hundredth time that day as she recalled how her mother had filled that basket with pairs of brightly colored mittens in the winter and freshly clipped daisies in the summer.

  “Well, I’ve always admired that basket, so I took the opportunity to purchase it.” Looking down at Ella, Dorothy added, “A woman living on her own needs to learn to see to her needs, jah? That is something I’m sure you’ll learn over the years.”

  Over the years?

  It took everything Ella had to school her features into something completely blank. Dorothy made it sound like Ella would be living on her own forever. Though she didn’t have any prospects, she’d never given up the hope that she’d be able to create a family of her own one day.

  In addition, Dorothy sounded so pleased about the bargains she found. Did she not understand that those bargains had once been a part of Ella’s life?

  Silence pulled between them, becoming uncomfortable.

  Dorothy cleared her throat. “This is where
you tell me thank you, Ella.”

  “Pardon me?”

  “I helped your finances,” she prodded as she folded her arms across her chest, looking for a moment like an angry bull. “I came to your auction and paid my hard-earned money for old belongings of yours.”

  “Danke,” Ella said dutifully, but in truth, she felt more confused than ever. Was that really what everyone who had visited the auction had thought? That she was someone to be pitied . . . and that she now owed them her gratitude?

  It was a curious—and uncomfortable—feeling to be in debt to someone for buying her family’s possessions. More than ever, Ella desperately needed some time alone. “I don’t want to be rude, but I’m afraid I just can’t talk right now. I really am schlaeferich.” Actually, she felt more exhausted than sleepy.

  “You’re sleepy? Are you sure? I was going to give you a tour of your new home.”

  At this moment? When it was so obvious that she could barely string two sentences together? “There’s no need—”

  “I think so. I think there’s every need. I wanted to be sure you understand how to work everything. And to show you that all the appliances and faucets are in proper working order. It is as it should be.”

  Again, there was an unexpected note of steel in Dorothy’s tone, like she was almost eager for an argument. Or eager to push and push.

  It was too much for Ella to take. “Everything was fine yesterday.”

  “Yes, but we need to make sure there are no surprises, right? If something is wrong, then I could be blamed. For all purposes, I am your landlady now.”

  “You are, but we’re still freinds. Of course I wouldn’t blame you, Dorothy.”

  “We are, but even friends can be cruel to each other.” As that phrase lingered, Dorothy flashed a smile. “But I’m being silly, of course. We could never be like that, could we?”

  Ella shook her head slowly. A slow, sinking feeling settled in her stomach as they walked down the sidewalk to the front entrance.

  Though moving from her farm to a tiny apartment had been one of the hardest things she’d ever done, in the back of her mind, Ella had hoped that there would be something positive that would come from it. That, in the end, she would now have the opportunity to make more friends. Needless to say, it had been a long, hard year caring for her mother, doing her best to keep up with the farm . . . and then giving it all away.

  As they climbed up the three stairs that led to the front door, one of the steps creaked under Ella’s weight.

  Immediately, Dorothy bent and inspected the stair. Then she lifted her face to Ella’s. “I don’t see any loose nails. Do you?”

  Ella glanced at the step halfheartedly. The light was too dim to see much, and at the moment, she could care less about loose nails.

  All she ached to do was sleep. “I think it is fine,” she murmured.

  “All right, then.” Dorothy straightened. With her own key, she unlocked Ella’s door.

  That took her by surprise. “I didn’t realize you had your own key to my apartment.”

  “Well, of course I do. I’m the owner, after all.”

  But that still didn’t seem right. “But I’m paying you rent. I wouldn’t feel comfortable if you used your key to come inside without me knowing.“ As a matter of fact, she wasn’t terribly comfortable with the ease in which Dorothy was letting herself into her place now.

  “Ella, I’m not going to want to spy on you.”

  The hint of unease became a full-fledged knot of worry. Dorothy seemed angry, and more than a little secretive.

  Ella now wondered what other secrets Dorothy kept hidden away.

  “I know you won’t spy,” Ella said quickly. “It’s just that . . . well, I’m used to living on my own. That farm was a big place, you know. I’m used to being by myself.”

  “Now you won’t have to. Soon, we’ll do everything together and you won’t ever have to be lonely again,” Dorothy said with a hint of iron in her voice. “Why, years from now, I bet we’ll laugh about this conversation. Years from now, we’ll forget what it was like, ever living apart!”

  There was that reminder once again. Years from now.

  As if Ella’s life was pretty much over, that she now had nothing to look forward to except life in half a duplex next to another old maid.

  Those things had never been in Ella’s dreams. Unbidden, Corrine’s warnings rang in her ears. Had Corrine been right? Had she been too hasty in making her future plans?

  As she followed Dorothy into her apartment and listened to Dorothy talk about the water pressure and the best way to the clean the linoleum floor, Ella’s sense of unease heightened. Though nothing her friend was saying was quite wrong, it didn’t feel quite right, either.

  Chapter 3

  Mattie Lapp had survived breast cancer, surgery, and four terrible rounds of chemotherapy. Through it all, she’d been so sick she could hardly walk, and so weak she feared she’d ever be able to do anything by herself ever again.

  She’d comforted a weepy mother and smiled bravely for the numbers of people who cooked and prayed for her.

  Usually, she liked to think of herself as rather tough. She liked to think of herself as a survivor.

  Except for right at that moment. At the moment, she felt weak and scared and completely alone. A giant, furry spider lurking behind a basket did that to her. “Ach!” she cried as the beast seemed to double in size right before her eyes. “Oh! Why are you here?”

  In response, the spider scurried toward her.

  “Oh! Ach!” she cried out again, feeling as irritated by the situation as she was scared of the small insect—and its friends, who were surely hiding.

  Why in the world did it have to appear right now? When she was all alone? And just after she’d washed the floors, too.

  Before her eyes, the spider’s body continued to balloon in size. Now it was at least as big as a silver dollar.

  She tried to recall what she’d learned of spiders. Was it pregnant? Carrying around an egg sack? The very idea of it made her squirm. Though Mattie knew she was overreacting, she darted out the kitchen door to the safety of her front porch.

  “Whoa, there, Mattie.” Two solid hands reached out, holding her securely by the shoulders.

  She knew that grip! With a grateful sigh, she turned in relief. “Oh, Graham! Graham, thank goodness you’re here. I need your help.”

  “You do, hmm?” He smiled slowly as he leisurely eyed her from top to bottom. She felt him pause on the babylike fuzz on her head, and then on her bare toes curling on the wood floor planks.

  Still holding her shoulders, he asked, “Do I even want to know what’s got you into such a state?”

  As usual, he knew exactly what to say to get her riled up. “You never fail to make me sound like I’m shvach.”

  “I don’t think you’re shvach at all. Well . . . perhaps just a little bit weak.”

  “Graham!”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “Mattie, you are squealing and carrying on something awful. And on your front porch, no less.”

  “I don’t squeal.”

  Eyes still twinkling, he said, too patiently, “Forgive me. I misspoke. You are never weak and you never squeal.”

  “Graham . . .”

  He continued, ignoring her warning. “Oh, jah. You, Mattie Lapp, are always perfect.” One eyebrow rose. “Except, perhaps, at this very moment?”

  She felt her cheeks heat. “I have a good reason.”

  “Which is?”

  She exhaled. “I saw a spider.” Of course, even as she said the words, Mattie knew she sounded a bit silly.

  “Did you, now?” He had the nerve to nod, like what she was saying made perfect sense. “I see. So when you saw the thing, you decided to run out here?”

  Oh, she hated it when he sounded so sure and full of himse
lf! “It’s big, Graham. Terribly big. The biggest one I’ve ever seen.” And because she was willing to be called weak and helpless and silly right at this moment she added, “And you need to go inside and kill it.”

  “It looks like I came at just the right time. You were in need of a real man.” He flexed one arm. Even through the loose cotton, his bicep was pronounced.

  “I’m not kidding, Graham. It’s a horrible, terribly big spider.”

  “It won’t be too big for me,” he bragged. He waved a hand in front of her. “Show me where this creature is.”

  Pointing through the screen, she said, “It’s in there. You can’t miss it.” There was no way she was going to be in the same room with it again. “On the kitchen floor.”

  “Mattie,” he said with exaggerated patience, “come inside with me.”

  “I’d rather not.”

  “Fine.” He opened up the door.

  “Wait! You don’t want to go in unarmed,” she cried while grabbing the broom standing against the wall and handing it to him, saying, “You’re going to need this. Or perhaps even a shovel.”

  He had the nerve to roll his eyes. “Yes, like your mother would appreciate a dirty shovel on her floor.” Looking around, he picked up a section of newspaper from the square wooden box by the front door. “This will do nicely.”

  “I doubt it.” She so doubted it, she kept right where she was. Where it was safe.

  “If we wait much longer, it will go somewhere else.”

  That was all she needed to push open the door and press her hand to his shoulder blade, guiding him inside.

  She stayed a good two feet behind.

  “Mattie? You are being too silly. You need to show me where it is.”

  “There.” She peeked around him and saw the villain resting in front of the leg of her mother’s wooden chopping block. “There!”