A Christmas for Katie Read online

  Her mother’s tone was clipped now—a sure sign that she was losing her patience. Usually, Katie would back off. But today she simply couldn’t. “But Christmas is coming.”

  “It will still come without your interference, Katie.” Turning toward the door, she added, “If you have so much extra time, I think you’d best get up early in the morning and help me in the kitchen. We’ve got cookies to bake and quilted potholders to make.”

  “I will,” she said quickly, letting all her worries about Miss D. fade. She loved helping her mother bake Christmas cookies. “I’ll help you in the morning, Mamm.”

  Inch by inch, her mother’s frown lines smoothed. “Gut. I love you, Katie. Now, close your eyes and go to sleep.”

  When she was alone again, Katie sighed. Her mother was right. She really didn’t have much say in other people’s business. Even her brothers had gotten married without much of her help. And though Loyal and Calvin had fallen in love fairly fast . . . Graham sure hadn’t. Everyone in the family had known he and Mattie were meant to be married way before they did. After all, when Mattie had been fighting cancer, her brother Graham would hardly leave her side. Now Mattie was healthy and they were happily married.

  How in the world was she going to find the librarian someone to love in just a week?

  As she pulled her thick quilt over her shoulders, she snuggled down deeper into the feather bed. Wiggled her toes against the flannel sheets. Yawned.

  Then closed her eyes and prayed to the only one who could help Miss D. “Jesus, I know you’re getting ready to celebrate your birthday and all . . . but if it ain’t too much trouble, I really need some help. See, if Miss Donovan doesn’t get happy soon, all of us in Jacob’s Crossing are gonna have to look at that stupid plastic nativity until Christmas. And we both know that it ain’t right. We need a real nativity, with real people and real animals.

  “And even though I’m not supposed to care about it, ’cause I’m Amish, I still do. I like seeing the shepherds and Mary and Joseph. And you as a little tiny baby, too. And I can’t help but think that other people in Jacob’s Crossing feel the same way. Sometimes seeing things up close and in person is the only way everyone can really believe.”

  Then, because there really didn’t seem to be any more to say, Katie closed her eyes and went to sleep. It was in God’s hands now.

  Chapter Five

  THE NEXT DAY, after completing the last of the report, Connor reread it and frowned. The other deputy on duty, Trey Gomez, noticed.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I keep reading and rereading this report but I think I’m missing something. It’s like something obvious is staring right at me, but I keep overlooking it.” Glancing at Trey, he said, “Don’t tell me you think I’m crazy.”

  “I won’t. You’ve got to trust your instincts every time. They’ve sure saved me enough.”

  “Yeah. Me too.”

  Swiveling his chair to the side, Connor glanced at Trey. “So, no one has reported any other muggings during the last few weeks?”

  “Not a one.” Eyes lighting with humor, Trey said, “There hasn’t been an outbreak of nativity burglaries, either.”

  “I can’t even believe we’re talking about a stolen wise man and a mugging in the same sentence.” Jayne had called this morning and confirmed that one of her wise men was in fact missing.

  “It’s not that odd. This is Jacob’s Crossing, not Detroit, Connor. Our crime looks a little different. A year ago, one Amish woman kidnapped another and took off with her in a buggy.”

  He dropped his ballpoint pen. “Did you say kidnapped?”

  “You know I did.” Trey shook his head. “People reported that she had a lot of emotional problems. Anyway, they ended up crashing, and the kidnapper died.” Crossing one foot on the opposite knee, he continued. “It was a real tragedy. I’m only telling you this so you’ll understand that crazy things can happen around here.”

  Connor rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess you’re right.”

  Trey glanced at the mess of papers littering his desk, picked up a phone message, and winced. “Plus, Christmas makes people do strange things, too. All that happiness blaring on the television and radio can really make a lot of folks depressed.”

  “It was that way in Kentucky, too. It’s probably that way everywhere.”

  Trey turned back to his computer. Glancing at his report, Connor located her name. “Mrs. Jensen is lucky she didn’t sustain anything worse than a bad headache and a couple of stitches.”

  “She is lucky, though I can’t help but wonder why she was even out so late last night.”

  Connor glanced at him in surprise. “It was eight on a Friday night, not midnight.”

  “I hear you, but her neighbors say she usually doesn’t venture out after dinner.” Trey scanned his notes again. “Actually, the neighbors say she rarely ventures out at all. And when she does, it’s only to go to the library or to buy something.”

  “Maybe she simply wanted a book to read. I mean, that’s why I was at the library last night.” Experience had taught him that sometimes the simplest answer was the right answer.

  Thinking about his quest last night made him think about Jayne. Even though he’d dropped her off at her house last night, he was anxious to see her again. “You know, I think I’m going to go back over to the library and look around. We could have missed something in the dark.”

  Trey looked at him for a moment, then shrugged. “Sounds good. Let me turn this report in, then I’ll go with you.”

  “I’d rather go over there on my own.”

  “Why?”

  “Oh, you’ve got other stuff to do. No need to worry about the library.”

  “So? We’ve always got tons of stuff to do.” Trey’s eyes narrowed. “Come on, ‘fess up. What’s the rest of your reason?”

  “I’m kind of interested in the librarian.”

  Trey grinned. “I wondered if you were going to mention the beautiful Miss Jayne Donovan. So, got a crush on the librarian, huh?”

  It was embarrassing to get teased about a lady he had hardly talked to, let alone worked up the nerve to ask out. “She’s a nice woman.”

  “And pretty.”

  “We clicked.”

  “I’ll just bet you did.” Trey whistled low. “Maybe you’re hoping for a little private investigating?”

  “Shut up,” he called out over his shoulder before his buddy started making even more cracks. “I only want to see her again. Make sure she’s all right. She was a little shaken up last night.”

  Trey’s grin only widened. “Let me know if you need help consoling her.”

  “I won’t. And you shouldn’t even be noticing her. You’re married.”

  “I’m very married, and very happily married, too. But I’m not blind,” Trey retorted. “Besides, you’re always so calm, cool, and collected, I can’t resist giving you a hard time.”

  “Happy to oblige,” he said sarcastically.

  He left the room with Trey’s laughter ringing in his ears.

  Connor figured he deserved the ribbing. Ever since he’d arrived in Jacob’s Crossing, he hadn’t done much besides work. And he’d been so burned by his old job and breakup with his girlfriend that he tended to act as if any woman was a potential shark.

  Now, all of a sudden, he wanted to see more of the pretty brunette who seemed just as alone in her own way as he felt.

  When he drove into the parking lot of the Jacob’s Crossing Library, he noticed three buggies parked off to the side, their horses hitched but looking pleased enough to be munching on the winter grass sprouting out of the snow.

  He nodded to an Amish man walking out of the library as he entered.

  And then he felt as if he’d entered a far different world.

  Unlike the quiet serenity of the previous evening, the library was brightly lit, and practically buzzing with the excited chatter of small children. One glance showed him the reason—it was story time.
r />   Drawn by the scene, he stepped a little closer. To his surprise, an Amish woman in a crisp white kapp was reading a story in front of about twenty children. She had brown hair, glasses, and was obviously very pregnant. She wasn’t beautiful as Jayne was, but there was something beautiful about her, he decided. Lovely.

  Maybe it was her voice? Perhaps it was her obvious enthusiasm for the book she was reading. In spite of himself, he leaned against the wall and listened in to the Christmas story she was reading—something about a donkey.

  “Is anything wrong?” a sweet, feminine voice murmured over his shoulder.

  Startled, he turned to Jayne. “No. I came in here to talk to you, but I guess I got caught up in the story.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry, I don’t know what happened. I can’t recall the last time I listened to someone read a book aloud.”

  “Ella has that way about her,” Jayne whispered with a smile as she motioned him farther away from the preschoolers. “I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve stopped working and joined the kids for story time. There’s something about Ella that’s mesmerizing.”

  Connor liked that description. “I didn’t know Amish women worked in libraries.”

  “I don’t know if they do, as a norm, but it’s been a perfect fit for Ella. Everyone loves her, and from a business standpoint, she’s brought up our circulation numbers by twenty percent.” She paused, nibbled her lip. “But I’m guessing you didn’t stop by to talk about Ella, or her popular story time.”

  “I stopped by because I wanted to check on you. I know you were a little rattled last night. Are you okay?”

  After glancing around to make sure nobody could overhear, she nodded. “I’m okay, but I have to admit I really was pretty shaken up. Seeing that woman collapsed like that, being questioned by the sheriff . . . nothing like that’s ever happened to me before.”

  “That’s a good thing.” He had the strangest urge to reach out to her. To wrap an arm around her shoulders and assure her that everything was going to be okay.

  “So, how is Mrs. Jensen? Was she hurt badly?”

  “She’s got a few stitches, a lump on the back of her head, and a minor concussion, but she’s going to be all right. She’s home now, safe and sound.”

  “I don’t suppose she knows who attacked her?”

  He shook his head. “We’ll keep looking, though. And I’m going to stop by to see her this afternoon. She might remember more now that she’s recovered a bit.” And maybe she’d also let him know why she had been wandering outside unusually late, for her at least.

  “Let me know if she needs something. I could bring her soup or a pie.”

  “You’d do that?”

  “She was hurt in front of my library, Deputy Fields.”

  “It’s Connor, remember? And listen, what happened wasn’t your fault, Jayne.” Once again, he was tempted to offer her comfort. With effort, he kept his hands by his sides.

  “I know . . .” She shrugged. “Even if it’s not my fault, I’m still happy to bring her a meal. It’s what folks here in Jacob’s Crossing do for each other.”

  “I’ll pass along your offer.” Now that the business part of his visit was taken care of, he ached to make some dinner plans of his own. “So, I was wondering . . . what time do you get off work tonight?”

  Her eyes widened. “Seven o’clock.”

  “Do you have plans afterward?”

  “Um . . . no.”

  “How about we go grab a quick bite to eat then?”

  Little by little, the worry in her eyes eased into something more playful. “Connor, are you asking me out or looking out for my welfare?”

  Funny, he wasn’t sure. Everything inside him wanted to make sure she was okay. But even stronger was his desire to get to know her better. “Both.”

  Her brows rose. “Both?”

  He grinned. “That’s not a bad thing, Jayne.”

  “No . . . no, I suppose it’s not.” She looked to add more when a little Amish girl approached, all bright blue eyes and smiles. “Hello, Katie Weaver.”

  “Hi, Miss Donovan.” She looked at him curiously.

  And to his surprise, Jayne’s smile grew wider. “Deputy Fields, please meet my special friend, Katie Weaver.”

  He inclined his head. “Hi, Katie.”

  Eyes wide, she looked him over from head to toe. “Are you a policeman?”

  “I am,” he said, not bothering to clarify that he was a deputy in the sheriff’s department.

  “Oh, good.”

  “Why is that good?” Jayne asked.

  Katie’s eyes widened. “Miss D., didn’t you notice what happened with the nativity?”

  Jayne shared a worried look with him. For some reason, it felt as if all of his senses were completely attuned to hers. With effort, he tried to keep his response tempered. “What’s wrong?”

  “Mary’s missing, and so is one of the kings!”

  “Two pieces?” Jayne asked, her voice slightly squeaky.

  Connor shook his head. “No, we’re only missing one figure, and it was a wise man.”

  “Nee. Two are gone!”

  Jayne knelt on one knee so that she was eye level with the little girl. “Katie, there was an accident here last night. Maybe Mary got knocked over.”

  “I don’t think so. My brother Calvin and I were just standing in front of it, looking. Jesus’s mom is gone.” Looking more disturbed by the second, Katie frowned. “This ain’t gut, Miss D. First we had an old, broken-down nativity, and now two of the pieces are gone. Christmas is going to be ruined.”

  “Connor, could you help us some more?” Jayne gazed up at him in that way that already made him want to promise her the world.

  Even if he hadn’t been a cop, he knew he would never want to refuse that look. “I’ll go out there right now.”

  “See?” Jayne said, patting the girl’s shoulder. “Everything isn’t ruined. Not yet, honey.” To Connor, she said, “The nativity is pretty important to Katie.”

  “It’s special to everyone in Jacob’s Crossing,” Katie said. “But we don’t have a good one now. Not anymore.” Katie’s bottom lip trembled as her voice rose a bit. “Can you call it a nativity without Mary? Miss D., we have to fix it or Christmas is going to be really bad.”

  For once, Connor knew exactly what to say. When he was growing up, his church had had a plastic nativity, then had replaced it with children for one week in December. He’d been a shepherd, a wise man, and for one night, a very reluctant Joseph. His sister had been Mary, and he’d taken it as a personal affront that he’d had to stand with his sister for three hours.

  Leaning down, he smiled encouragingly at Katie. “I’m afraid Katie here might be right. We’ve got a mystery to solve. Stealing nativity figures is a pretty rotten thing to do.”

  Katie’s eyes widened. “You do understand.”

  “More than you might think,” he said dryly. Standing up, he stepped away and motioned Jayne closer. “Since I’m going to be around here so much, and I’m taking a personal interest in your nativity, I really think you should go out with me tonight. Jayne, will you please have dinner with me?”

  “I’d be happy to,” she replied. Looking flustered. And pleased. And just the slightest bit apprehensive.

  Now that he’d secured more time with Jayne, he turned to the girl. “I think I better go do some detective work. Katie, let’s go out and look at the scene of the crime.”

  To his delight, she didn’t hesitate. She merely started walking ahead. “Let’s go through the side door. It’s a lot quicker.”

  “I’m right behind you.”

  Hardly stopping, she slipped on her cloak and led him out the library’s glass doors and down a snowy hill.

  There at the foot of the hill lay the somewhat sorry-looking nativity. He had to admit that it certainly did look worse in the daylight. “This is an old set, don’t you think?”

  “Jah. Miss D. told me it’s real old. Like from 2004.”
>
  He hid a smile as they followed the stepping stones to the sidewalk to the front. From their new angle, it was immediately apparent that there were now two empty spots where figures used to stand.

  Katie folded her arms in front of her chest. “Mister, what are we gonna do?”

  Connor loved how the little girl had firmly planted herself into the middle of the investigation. “We’ll have to ask some questions.” Actually, except for the knock Mrs. Jensen took to her head, it looked like a teenage prank to him. “I’ll look around, see what I can find.” Tromping to the crèche, he stepped around the figures, halfheartedly looking for any evidence of who might have been stealing the figures.

  To his surprise, he found a mitten and an empty beer can. Neither might have anything to do with the assault or the theft, but he showed them to Katie. “I found these two things.”

  “Do you know whose mitten that is?” she asked.

  “Uh, no. But I’ll put them in an evidence bag just in case something else comes up.” Considering that just about every person in Jacob’s Crossing owned a pair of mittens or gloves, and any number of people could have tossed an empty beer can, Connor knew he was only going through the motions of collecting evidence.

  He was about to try to temper Katie’s hopefulness when he noticed that they’d attracted a little crowd.

  “What’s going on, Deputy?” an older man said.

  “I’m investigating a theft.” He thought about adding that there was also a possible assault, but he didn’t want to stir up a panic.

  “Someone stole Mary and a wise man,” Katie blurted.

  “That’s a pretty low thing to do,” the man said.

  “I think so, too.” Katie’s frown deepened. “Poor Mary,”

  “Any idea who did it?” another woman asked.

  “Nope,” Connor replied. “But we’ll keep an eye on it. We’ll drive by every couple of hours.”

  A few of the women looked concerned. “But in the meantime, what is going to happen?” the same lady asked.

  Connor shrugged. “I guess it will just have to be an incomplete nativity.” Even as he said that, though, he felt a little deflated. These people were looking at him for answers and help, and so far, he had nothing to give them.