The Wonder of Your Love

Fifteen




MARTHA EDGED FORWARD WITH THE BRISTLY END of the broom, poised and ready to pounce. As she made a hissing noise, she pushed the broom within a few inches of the girl.

Danielle stepped backward until she was standing up against the dresser. “Stop it! Are you crazy?”

Martha didn’t lower the broom. “With all due respect, missy . . . you are the one who has broken into my house, and . . .” She saw her favorite jasmine vanilla lotion on the top of the dresser . . . next to a half-eaten loaf of garlic bread. She narrowed her brows and scowled. “What are you doing up here?”

Danielle shifted her weight, and Martha noticed that both eyes were wide open and the stitches on her cheek were gone, leaving a red mark down the side of her face. Her bottom lip was still swollen on one side.

“If you’ll just move that broom, I’ll leave.”

Martha raised her chin. “No. You answer the question. What are you doing up here?” Now Martha noticed a bag of Fritos, two of her colas, and three dirty dishes on the floor by the bed. “And exactly how long have you been here?”

“I—I don’t know. Maybe a few days. Maybe longer.”

Martha thought she might fall over. “So I’ve been sleeping in my bed downstairs while a thief has been living above me.”

She shook her head. “Unbelievable.”

“I’m not a thief!” Danielle clenched her fists.

Martha nodded to the pile by the bed. “Oh, really. Then what do you call that? Were you gonna leave an IOU?”

“I’ll pay you for it.”

Martha lowered the broom and held it like a pitchfork by her side. “Fine.” She held out her free hand, palm up. “Pay up.”

“I—I’ll have to go get the money and bring it back to you.”

Martha laughed. “Sure you will.” She walked to the bed and sat down atop the pine green bedspread she’d had since the sixties. She rubbed her forehead for a minute. “How’d you know where to find me?” She sat taller and frowned. “And why did you come here?”

Danielle shrugged. She was a petite little thing, and leaning up against the dresser, her wounds still not completely healed, she didn’t seem very threatening. But surely Martha deserved to know why the child had taken refuge in her upstairs.

“If you don’t want me to call the cops, I suggest you start talking.”

“I’ll leave. I’m sorry.” She edged toward the door.

“Danielle, wait.” Martha stood up, and slowly Danielle turned around. “Are you hiding from someone? From whoever did that to you?”

“I gotta go.”

Danielle rounded the corner, and without giving it much thought, Martha yelled the first thing that came to mind.

“You can stay if you want!”

Martha waited, and she heard the footsteps on the stairs stop. A moment later Danielle crept back over the threshold. “Why would you let me stay?”

“Why did you come here in the first place?” Martha had suddenly realized what was missing out of her wallet. An ID card that she carried, which listed her address.

Danielle shrugged, eyes to the floor. “I dunno.”

“Sure you do. Something sent you my way.”

She kicked at the corner of the doorway with her scuffed-up white tennis shoe. “I heard you say no one lived up here.”

Martha fought the urge to make a smart remark. Instead she took a deep breath. “I’m going to bed. It’s late. I suggest you do the same.” She pointed to the pile of dishes on the floor. “This is not how we do things around here. First thing in the morning, I expect to see this room cleaned up.” She glared at her lotion on the dresser. “And my lotion back downstairs on the table by my recliner, where I’ve kept it for years.”

She stood up, walked past Danielle, and was almost to the stairs when Danielle called her name. She turned around. “What?”

“Are you going downstairs to call the police?”

Martha pushed back a strand of hair that had fallen forward and sighed. “No, Danielle. I’m not. Now get some rest.”

Good grief. Lord, what have You got in store for me now?


WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON THE air was a bit chilly, but the sun was shining. Katie Ann bundled up Jonas and took him out to the barn with her, thinking he could use some fresh air. She had some leftover ham for Mrs. Dash, who’d left two more mice on the porch.

She eased into the barn and saw the cat curled up in a big ball in the corner on the quilt. She squatted down with Jonas.

“She’s going to have a boppli, Jonas. Probably several.”

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a baggie halffilled with pieces of ham she’d torn into bite-sized pieces. Expecting the cat to bolt, she was surprised when Mrs. Dash just stared at her. And this time her ears weren’t flattened to her head.

“Here you go, girl.” She tossed some of the ham closer, then waited. “Mrs. Dash is learning to trust us, Jonas.”

She nuzzled Jonas’s nose with hers, and he made a strange cooing noise. Katie Ann waited for the cat to sprint around the corner. But instead, Mrs. Dash rose from her spot, arched her back in a stretch, and moved closer to the ham. Katie Ann didn’t move. After a few moments, Mrs. Dash was within a foot of her, the closest the cat had ever come.

Katie Ann thought about all the prayers she’d said, asking God to help her trust His plan for her, whatever that might be. Figuring cats don’t pray, she silently prayed that God would take care of this big black cat and that she would deliver healthy little kittens.

And maybe you could send a Mr. Dash to help her.

It was a strange ending, and probably even odder to be praying for the cat, but her father had always said there was a place in heaven for animals.

She rose slowly, so as not to spook the cat. Once she was standing, Mrs. Dash looked up, but quickly lowered her face and finished off the ham. She hadn’t even finished chewing her last bite when she went around the corner, but it was progress.

When she got back inside, Katie Ann put Jonas in his swing, which he enjoyed more all the time. She cranked the handle, then went to the kitchen to make sure she had everything she needed to cook supper for Eli that evening, and she tried to keep worry from her heart. She wanted to enjoy her time with him, and she was going to do everything she could to keep things in perspective and to see their relationship for what it was.

Her excitement about his coming overrode everything else. Even Martha’s situation with her new houseguest. Martha still came by daily, and twice she’d brought Danielle. The teenager didn’t say two words either time, and mostly sat on the couch fidgeting.

Katie Ann had asked Martha privately if she should be housing a child without the parents’ permission, but Martha said they weren’t very good parents if they had let something like this happen to their daughter. Katie Ann didn’t know what to think. Arnold was due back tomorrow, and Katie Ann knew he’d keep an eye on the situation.

She heard a knock and looked at the clock, knowing it was much too early for Eli to arrive. When she opened the door, she saw Lillian.

“Come in out of the cold.”

Her sister-in-law didn’t take off her coat or bonnet, but instead handed Katie Ann a letter. “The postman brought this to our haus instead of here, so I signed for it. It’s from Robert Dronberger. Isn’t he a lawyer back in Lancaster County?”

Katie Ann took a deep breath. “Ya. I believe so. Do you want some tea?” She walked toward the living room.

Lillian followed, still in her winter gear. “Why is he sending you a certified letter?”

Katie Ann turned to face her. She knew exactly why Robert was sending her a certified letter. Most likely because she hadn’t responded to his other three letters.

“I—I think he is handling some things.” She took a deep breath. “Things for Ivan. I mean, things of Ivan’s. I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I think I am the owner of anything that was Ivan’s, since we were still married.”

“Oh.” Lillian bit her bottom lip and stared at Katie Ann for a moment. “Do you have to go to Lancaster County?”

Katie Ann thought about the past three letters since Ivan’s death, all requesting her presence in Lancaster County. “I think so.”

“When?”

“I don’t know.”

“Hmm . . . I wonder if you will have to go get anything of Ivan’s from Lucy’s house?”

Katie Ann folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t want anything of Ivan’s. Besides, if you’ll recall, Ivan left here with almost no money. Any money that he made while he was with Lucy, well, I suppose it should go to Lucy.”

Just then Katie Ann had a horrible thought. What if there was money or a house or something that was tied up legally, something that should go to Lucy and her baby? She didn’t want anything to do with Lucy, but if there was money that was rightfully Lucy’s, Katie Ann didn’t want to be the one holding things up. “I’ll go soon.”

“Well, uh . . . Ivan’s been dead for, uh . . .”

“Ya, I know. Seven months.” Katie Ann recalled the first letter, which had arrived about a month after Ivan’s death. At the time she had scanned it, but knew she couldn’t face a trip to Lancaster County. The second letter arrived a month after that, and the third had come last month. Each time she read the letters, she’d put them away . . . to deal with another time. Now time must have caught up with her.

“Eli is coming for a visit.” She was anxious to change the subject, even though she knew her comment would spark questions from Lillian.

Her sister-in-law smiled. “Gut news. How long is he staying?”

“He told Vera he would be staying for a few days.”

Lillian shook her head. “I don’t know why he doesn’t just pack up and move here.” She grinned.

Katie Ann frowned. “Lillian, that’s impossible. His family is there. And as you know, we are just—”

“Ya, ya . . . I know. Just friends. That’s what you keep saying.” Lillian sighed. “I have to run. Enjoy your supper.” She winked at Katie Ann before she closed the door behind her.


ELI CHATTED WITH Vera, Elam, and Levi until he thought he might explode from politeness. All he wanted to do was get to Katie Ann’s house. Betsy bounced in and out of the living room, usually with a book in her hand. She’d read for a while, then share something about what she’d read, then mosey back upstairs. January was generally slow for all Amish folks, so it wasn’t surprising that Elam and Levi were inside with Vera and Betsy on this cold Wednesday afternoon.

“Gut to have you back for another visit.” Vera handed him his second cup of coffee.

“Danki, Vera.” He smiled.

“Stay as long as you like.” Vera folded her hands in her lap from where she was sitting across the room from Eli. Then she asked about all of Eli’s children, how he enjoyed Florida, and what he planned to plant this spring. But she must have caught him looking at the clock.

“I imagine Katie Ann has supper almost ready. You don’t want to be late.”

Eli looked at the clock again. It was only three thirty, too early for supper, but he was going to take his cue and go. He stood up, and Elam walked him to the door.

“I’ll help you get the buggy hitched up.” Elam pulled on a heavy coat and gloves.

Eli pulled his hat and coat from the rack by the door.

“Danki, Elam,” Eli said once the buggy was ready. His cousin stroked his beard, clearly with something on his mind. “What is it, cousin?”

“I’m not sure there is anything more fragile than a widow’s heart, Eli.”

“Except maybe a widower’s heart,” Eli quickly responded.

But he knew what Elam was saying. “Are you afraid I’m not doing right by Katie Ann?”

“I didn’t say that. I’m just reminding you that she is fragile.” He backed up a few steps, waved a gloved hand, and said, “Have a gut time.”

Eli thought about what Elam said as he drove through a flurry of snow to Katie Ann’s house, and he wondered if being so close to Katie Ann was a good idea. But it wasn’t like it was something he could control. He loved her, and he felt led to be here. Despite his own plans for his life, God seemed to have something else in mind. But even if he did trade in one dream for another, how could God expect him to leave his family to be with Katie Ann? It wasn’t fair to ask her to leave the home she’d built in Canaan either. He’d have to go home at some point, and how would they both feel?

He shook his head, deciding not to worry about leaving her before he saw her. He parked the buggy, then made his way up the porch steps. She was opening the door just as he held up a hand to knock. He pulled the screen open and stepped across the threshold into the warmth of Katie Ann’s home.

“It’s gut to be here.” His teeth were chattering as he pulled off his coat and hat.

Once they were hung on the rack, he pulled her into a hug, wishing he could stay in her arms for the rest of his life. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her, the way a man kisses his wife, and as the passion built between them, Eli felt her trembling. He eased away and gazed into her beautiful brown eyes. “I—I . . .”

Eli wanted to say it so bad, tell her how he felt. But Elam’s words rang in his ears. Katie Ann’s husband hadn’t been gone a year, and unless Eli was ready to leave his home in Ohio and be a husband to Katie Ann and father to Jonas, he knew that he would have to keep his feelings to himself. Anything else would be selfish and unfair.

“I know friends aren’t supposed to kiss like that,” he said after a moment. “But I missed you.”

“I missed you too. Very much.”

Her eyes twinkled as she spoke, and Eli felt torn between taking her in his arms again or running out the door. There was a struggle going on inside of him—between what he thought he wanted and what seemed to be playing out in his heart. And all the while a passion burned inside of him for Katie Ann that made it almost too much of a temptation for him to even be there.


KATIE ANN SMOOTHED the wrinkles in her black apron as she took a slow deep breath and wondered if her heart would ever stop pounding against her chest. She released the air in her lungs only after Eli had turned away and walked toward Jonas’s playpen in the living room. He eased his hand down and touched her sleeping baby on the head with a tenderness that Katie Ann could hardly bear.

A few minutes later Eli was stoking the fire and Katie Ann was brewing coffee. By the time they settled onto the couch and began talking, it was as though no time had passed. Once again, they ate supper on the couch in front of the fireplace, and Eli raved about Katie Ann’s chicken and rice casserole. Eli told her all about his trip to Florida, but not with the excitement that she expected.

“I don’t know. It was nice, I guess.” He set his empty plate on the coffee table and took a sip of coffee. “I felt . . .” He sighed. “I felt guilty. So much luxury and things that just aren’t necessary. You should have seen how many different kinds of soaps, shampoos, and lotions were in the bathroom at the hotel.” He chuckled. “I did enjoy the television.”

Katie Ann smiled, glad to hear the laughter back in his voice. “I don’t think you should feel guilty, Eli.” She wasn’t completely sure how he should feel, since she’d never known an Amish man to travel.

He looked down, rubbed his forehead, then locked eyes with her. “It just wasn’t as much fun as I’d always pictured it.”

“I’ll be taking a trip soon.”

His ears perked up. “Really? Where?”

“Lancaster County. I have to handle some things for Ivan. A lawyer has sent me several letters.”

“What about Jonas?” Eli narrowed his brows as he glanced toward the playpen. “Will you take him?”

Katie Ann shook her head. “Ya. He’s not even five months old yet. I couldn’t bear to leave him.”

Eli squeezed her hand. “Do you want me to go with you, so you and Jonas don’t have to travel alone?”

While she was touched, she also knew that she needed to do this on her own, find some closure with Ivan. She shook her head. “No. I’ve traveled by plane before. But danki.”

“When will you go?”

“I’m waiting until after Arnold gets here. I’ll feel better leaving Martha.” She raised her brows. “You’ll never believe what is going on at Martha’s house.” Katie Ann told Eli about Danielle and how Martha found her living upstairs.

“And she’s still there?” Eli sounded as shocked as Katie Ann had been when she found out Martha was letting the teenager stay with her.

She laughed. “Ya, she is. And I’m not sure who is having a harder time of it. Martha is a bit”—she paused—“set in her ways. And Danielle is . . . how should I say this, since I don’t know the girl well?” She sighed. “She’s a bit . . . messy. Martha said she leaves plates in her room upstairs, throws her clothes down on the bathroom floor, and never offers to help clean anything up. And . . .” Katie Ann grinned. “Martha threatened to wash her mouth out with soap if she didn’t clean up her language.”

“Where are the girl’s parents?”

“Danielle says her parents are dead, that she graduated school early while living in foster care, and that her boyfriend is the one who beat her up.”

Eli shook his head. “That’s terrible. How long will Martha let her stay there?”

“I don’t know. Martha has a huge heart, so I suspect it could be awhile.”


MARTHA PUT HER hands on her hips and eyed Danielle as she stepped out of the dressing room. They were in a store Martha had never heard of. “You are out of your mind if you think I’m going to buy you that.”

“Why? What’s wrong with it?” Danielle faced off with her, mirroring Martha’s stance.

Martha started to tell her that she looked like someone who should be standing on a street corner, but she decided a more tactful approach would be better. “You look like a tramp.”

“What?” Danielle shifted her weight, which Martha was impressed with given the skintight pink leggings. “This is what everyone wears.”

Martha pointed at the two inches of skin showing between Danielle’s sprayed-on pants and matching pink crop top. “And that is not going to fly.” She glanced around at the sales staff, most of whom were dressed similarly to Danielle, and shook her head.

“But I like this.”

“I told you that if you were going to live with me, you have to get a job. What kind of reputable company would hire you dressed like that?”

“Well, I wouldn’t be caught dead in what you’re wearing.”

Martha gasped, looking down at her red-and-white-checked pants outfit. One thing Martha knew for sure—she was a snappy dresser. She was at a loss for words.

“And why do you always wear that dumb butterfly clip in your hair?”

Martha’s eyes rounded with rage as she reached up and touched the precious clip that she’d had since she was married to Herbert many moons ago. “This clip, my dear, will never go out of style.”

“Whatever.”

If that girl said whatever one more time, Martha thought she might snap. “I think we’d better try another store.”

“Whatever.”

Danielle marched back into the dressing room and slammed the door. Martha leaned her head back and looked up. I have no idea what You want me to do with this girl, Lord, but help me keep my cool.

Martha raised her chin, then glared at the clerk to her left. She shook her head, amazed that her mother would let her out of the house dressed like that. A few minutes later Danielle popped out of the dressing room. But instead of returning to the jeans and T-shirt that she’d had on, she tried on another outfit.

“What about this one?” Danielle raised her brows and stood taller, which only caused the tiny blue blouse to show even more of her tummy.

Martha shook her head, and Danielle stomped back into the dressing room. She couldn’t wait until Arnold arrived tomorrow morning. Maybe he knew more about teenagers than she did.