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Authors: Shelley Shepard Gray

BOOK: A Christmas for Katie
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When they were alone, Connor couldn’t resist teasing her. “So, you were sad about your love life, but not any longer?”

“Oh my goodness, I am definitely not going there with you.”

“I just want to know if you are happier . . .”

“Don’t start trying to interpret Katie. I promise, she blurts everything that’s on her mind—to everyone and anyone. Conversations with her are not for the faint of heart.”

At the moment, he was mentally giving thanks for Katie and her chatty nature. “Come now, Jayne. Tell me. All you need to do is tell me yes or no.”

She bit her lip, and she looked so flustered and cute, he was tempted to hug her right there on the library’s front steps. “In that case . . . yes.”

“You make me happy, too.” He didn’t even try to temper his grin. “Especially since we can have our date since you won’t need to watch Katie. Pick you up at your house at seven thirty?”

“That’s fine.”

“Great. I better get on my way, but I’ll call you later.”

“Hey, Connor?”

“Yeah?”

She waved a hand, signifying the crèche, the people that had gathered there . . . the list of volunteers for the Christmas Eve nativity. “Thanks for this.”

“You’re welcome. But we both know all I did was show up.”

“You did more than that. And we both know that, too.”

 

Chapter Eleven

A
YEAR AGO,
Jayne had promised herself that she’d never enter the Kaffi Haus unless she was starving and there wasn’t another place to eat within twenty miles. She’d been that reluctant to be around John Weaver.

But now things had changed.

Here she was, walking with Katie, holding hands, and chatting about babies and farm animals, of all things. It turned out that Katie knew quite a bit about sheep and lambs, and she was determined to share every bit of her knowledge.

“No, I didn’t know that sheep liked to eat apples.”

“They do,” Katie said. “Cherries, too, though my brother Calvin said grass and a little bit of grain or corn is best for them.”

“Katie, you are a fount of information.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Is that
gut
?”

“Mighty
gut
,” Jayne said with a smile.

All too soon, they were at the coffee shop and walking in. At the back of the shop, behind the counter that ran almost the whole width of the place, was John Weaver. The scene was almost exactly the same as when they’d first met.

“Katie, I’ve been waiting for you. Are you eager to be an aunt today?” he asked brightly, then colored as if he’d suddenly noticed who she was with. “Hello, Jayne.”

“Hi, John.” It was prideful, but she had to admit that she liked catching him off guard. Lord knew John’s rejection of her had inspired many sleepless nights. “How are you?”

“I’m
gut
.” His eyes darted to the door. Over her shoulder. Back to the counter he was polishing. Anywhere but directly at her. Then, if he’d just realized what he said, he rolled his eyes. “I mean, I’m fine.”

“Even I know what
gut
means, John.”

“I suppose that’s true.” He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Then, he walked around the counter and helped Katie off with her coat and gave her a warm hug.

Jayne stood to the side, content to take these moments to observe him a little longer. Though Jacob’s Crossing was a very small town, she’d gone to extreme lengths to avoid him. Consequently, it had been quite a while since she’d taken a good long look at him.

He was still handsome.

Secretly, she was relieved her presence made him so uncomfortable. It made her realize that her hurt feelings hadn’t been completely exaggerated. There really had been something between them—and he really had broken her heart.

John was dressed Amish now, of course. That had been one of the reasons he’d ultimately broken up with her. He’d chosen to marry an Amish woman who was a widow and return to his roots. Jayne had been terribly disappointed, especially because she’d known she couldn’t compete with that.

A person’s faith helped shape who he was. There was no way she could have encouraged him to betray who he was.

But even so, for a time she’d selfishly wished that she’d meant more to him than his faith. If human love could ever be more important.

But they’d all moved forward. Thankfully. “So, how is Mary? And Abel?”

His cheeks flushed. “Good. They’re both good.”

Bored with their conversation, Katie went around the counter until she was standing smack-dab in front of him. “Can I have a donut, Onkle John?”

“Of course you may!” He picked her up and gave her a little twirl. “That’s why you came here, of course. Which one do you want?”

“An apple fritter?”

“Ah, yes. I do believe I have one apple fritter put aside for you. Go sit down and I’ll bring it over.” When she walked to a table, John pulled out a tissue wrapper and put one perfect donut on a plastic plate, then carried it out to her.

When he returned, he said, “Jayne, would you like one, too?”

It was his olive branch, she knew. And maybe olive branches were worth the hundreds of calories that her waistline didn’t need. “I’d love a cake.”

“You always did favor the plain ones.”

“It’s hard to find a perfect cake donut. I never had a better one than from right here.”

“How about some coffee, too? It’s fresh.”

“Sure. But I’m afraid I need it to go. I need to get back to the library.”

“We can do that.”

After filling the paper cup and putting her donut in a white paper sack, he walked around the counter and handed both to her. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” She reached into her jeans pocket and pulled out a five. “How much—”

“You don’t need to pay, Jayne.”

There had always been something about the way he said her name. The J sound was just a little bit soft, the long A just a little bit drawn out.

And upon hearing her name on his lips, she felt just a little bit breathless. Old habits, it seemed, died hard.

She needed to reinstate some distance.

“I think I do need to pay,” she said firmly. She needed to remember that they didn’t have a relationship. And that they never would again. Putting a new thread of brightness in her voice, she added, “You’re running a business, right?”

“It’s two fifty, then.” He took her money and gave her the change.

She left fifty cents on the counter. “I’ll see you later, Katie. I can’t wait to hear what kind of baby Ella has.”

“Me neither,” she said around a bite.

“We’re going to stop by the hospital in a little while,” John blurted. “Is your cell phone number the same? If so, I could call from the hospital and give you an update.”

“Thanks. I’d really appreciate it.”

“It’s no trouble I know you two are close friends.”

“Thanks, John,” she repeated, this time a little easier.

“Anytime.”

She looked at him a little longer, then realized that the pain she kept expecting to feel wasn’t there. Instead, she noticed that a glob of icing was smeared on Katie’s cheek. The sticky substance coated a couple of her fingers, too. Hopefully, John would notice and hand her a couple of napkins, fast.

But more than that, she realized that it wasn’t her place to do things like that any longer. While she once hoped to be an aunt to Katie, her favorite child, she had to remember: she was a good friend to Katie. Nothing more. “Goodbye, you two,” she said, feeling like she was saying goodbye to a whole lot more than them for the afternoon.

She was saying goodbye to what could have been but now never would be.

Exiting the coffee shop, Jayne took comfort in the cold blast of air stinging her cheeks. The fresh breeze invigorated her and helped her shake off that last bit of melancholia.

But then she realized that there was now someone new in her thoughts. Someone whom she happened to have quite a bit in common with, and who also made her pulse race a bit.

And he was looking forward to seeing her later that evening.

There was something to be said for moving on, after all.

T
WO HOURS LATER,
when they got to the hospital, Katie’s world turned dark. After signing in, she and Uncle John had taken the elevator to the third floor, then were shown to a waiting room for family members by the maternity ward. Everywhere Katie looked, there seemed to be big stainless carts filled with machines and linens and towels. Lots of women and men were everywhere, too, bustling around, looking extremely busy. Most wore green or pink loose outfits. But what she noticed the most was the pungent odor of disinfectant and bleach.

“It smells funny in here, Onkle,” she whispered.

“I know. It’s supposed to,” he said as they walked through the waiting room’s doorway.

Right away, Katie spied Mattie and Graham and Lucy and Calvin. “Where’s Mamm and Loyal?”

“With Ella,” Lucy said.

“Oh.”

Tension was in the air, but Katie didn’t understand why. She’d have thought it would be a time for smiles. Seeking comfort, she slid her hand into her uncle’s softly calloused one.

He gave her hand a squeeze before turning to the rest of the family. “How is Ella doing?”

After a glance in Lucy’s direction, Calvin answered. “She’s having a time of it, I’m afraid.”

“What’s wrong?” her uncle asked, a line of worry forming between his brows.

Calvin started to speak, looked at her, then cleared his throat. “Katie, you’d best go sit down. I need to speak to John privately. Come out into the hall, John.”

Katie tightened her grip on John’s hand. “But I want to hear, too.”

Calvin shook his head. “Not this time, Katie. This isn’t news for your ears.” When she opened her mouth to argue, his expression turned hard. “Go sit by Graham now.”

Only Calvin could speak to her like that. It seemed when their
daed
passed away, each of them took over a different part of raising her. Loyal was the best at talking about feelings and giving hugs. As the youngest son, Graham drove her places in the buggy and laughed and played games with her.

Calvin? He was the one person she could always count on. He remained firm and solid and strict with her, which was both a good and bad thing. She trusted him like no one else, and because of that, she didn’t try to sway him to her way of thinking very often.

With regret, she let go of her uncle’s hand and sat down next to Graham, Mattie, and Lucy.

But she wanted to make sure Calvin knew she wasn’t happy about it. She kept a frown on her face as she shifted and squirmed in one of the light blue chairs near the hallway as she watched Calvin and her uncle talk. Uncle John’s expression turned worried, then his mouth looked pinched when he looked her way.

At last, after a brief hug, Calvin went back to Lucy, who was hovering near the doorway, and John walked back to her. Without a word, he took the chair on her right.

Normally she would have pestered him with questions. But now all she wanted to do was have this moment last a little longer. Then she could keep pretending that everything was going to be fine.

Feeling worry flit through her, she squirmed a bit. Listened to the ticking of the big white clock over the quiet television.

After a couple of seconds, he looked her way. “Well, it’s like this, Katie. Ella’s blood pressure is getting a little high and the baby of hers doesn’t seem to be in much of a hurry to meet the rest of us.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means we have two choices. We can go back to Mary and Abel and wait for the new baby there, or we can wait here.”

“If we go back to your
haus
, how will we know what is happening? You don’t have a phone, do you?”

“No. We’d, uh, just have to wait for Calvin or Graham to stop by.”

“But that could be a really long time.” It already was hard sitting in her chair, waiting for John to tell her news.

“Yes, but at least you’d be out of the hospital waiting area.” He folded his arms across his chest. “It might be best, all things considered.”

“Why is that?”

“You wouldn’t have to be sitting quietly for hours. You’d be able to sit with Mary, maybe play a game with Abel. Have a snack.”

Katie realized that her uncle John and Calvin didn’t think she would be able to sit quietly here.

Usually, she wouldn’t. But this was Ella, whom she loved so very much. And because of that, she didn’t want to go anywhere. “I want to stay here.”

“Are you sure? I mean it, Katie. You won’t be able to do much of anything. Just sit here.” His voice lowered. “And none of us is going to be able to entertain you much.”

She wasn’t a baby any longer! She pointed to the television perched on a shelf in the corner of the room. “I’ll be fine. There’s a television in here.”

“It’s on
SportsCenter
. Not a cartoon show. You’re going to be bored.”

“Onkle John, I don’t want to leave Ella. I’ll be good, I promise.”

He looked relieved. “All right then.” He picked up an old magazine. “So now, we wait.”

Relief flowed through her, making her feel like a wet noodle. Curling her legs underneath her, she got more comfortable, and watched the black hands on the white clock above the doorway slowly inch around the dial.

A whole hour passed. Loyal came out.

They all stood up, anxious. Not a one of them said a word, just looked and waited.

Then, to her surprise, Loyal walked right over in front of her and crouched down. “Katie, I heard you were out here. And being awfully quiet, too. I’m proud of you.”

“I’ve been trying my best.” She bit her lip. She wanted to ask how Ella was doing, she wanted to ask about Ella’s baby too, but she was afraid. Was her brother trying to find a way to tell her that something was terribly wrong?

“Katie’s been a
gut
girl, we’re all mighty proud of her,” John said. “But I’m afraid I’m going to be the one asking pesky questions now. How is Ella? How is your baby?”

Loyal looked to be gathering his thoughts, then, after clearing his throat, he spoke. “The doctor says if the baby doesn’t come within the next hour, he wants to operate. Ella is in a lot of pain, and her blood pressure is rising.” He bit his lip before glancing at them all. “I have to admit that this has been a mighty difficult day. It’s hard to watch my Ella in so much pain.”

“What can we do?” John asked.

“Pray. Please, just pray,” Loyal said simply before turning around and walking back down the hallway.

Katie felt her lip tremble. She bit it, but all that did was cause her tears to start falling faster.

Onkle John noticed and reached for her hand. “Katie, I’ve always thought you had a real close relationship with our Lord. We need to pray for Ella and her
boppli
, okay?”

“Okay,” she whispered. She didn’t understand why her uncle thought she had a special relationship with God, but she did understand what it meant to pray real hard.

And then she remembered what she’d been praying for every night: a perfect nativity. She’d prayed and wished and asked God to let the nativity be perfect, because then her Christmas would be perfect, too.

She’d ignored Miss D.’s wishes, deciding that Miss Donovan needed to be happier in order to give Katie what she wanted.

She’d been wrong.

She’d ignored her mother’s reminders, about how Christmas wasn’t about decorations or fancy Christmas plays or “real” nativities. It was about celebrating Jesus’s birth, and giving thanks for all the blessings and love in their lives. Katie hadn’t really believed that, though. She’d been sure there was more to it than her mother’s simple explanations.

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