Authors: Shelley Shepard Gray
L
ucy’s pulse was beating loud, and she found herself checking and double-checking the state of her clothing while she approached the Weaver farm.
And wouldn’t you know it? Her palms were damp, too.
All were signs of one thing: She was near Calvin.
Oh, but this wouldn’t do. She was no innocent young girl. She’d already trusted a man based on charm and good looks—and had regretted that decision almost immediately. Surely that experience had taught her something?
Anything?
Schooling her features, she marched up to their front door and knocked. All she needed to do was relay the message and be on her way.
That was all.
“Lucy? Hi.”
“Hi.” Oh . . . against her best intentions, she was becoming tongue-tied around him again.
Standing in the shadow of the doorway, Calvin Weaver looked exactly as wonderful and handsome as he had every time their paths had crossed. Today his shirt was dark blue and it brought out the color of his eyes. For a moment, Lucy’s breath hitched as she was drawn again to his deep, almost mesmerizing voice.
His head tilted to one side. “Is there a reason you stopped by?”
Instead of standing and staring at him?
With effort, she pushed herself back to reality. “Actually, I’m here for Mattie. She asked to see Graham. Is he here?”
His gaze clouded for a moment, then cleared with a new resolve in his eyes. “Graham? Oh, of course.” He stepped forward, joining her on the front porch. “Is Mattie all right?”
“I’m afraid she’s having a tough time of it today. She’s feeling sick and achy and sad. All she wants at the moment is Graham’s company. I’m hoping he’ll oblige her.”
“I know he’ll drop everything if she needs him . . .”
Just imagining such a thing made Lucy turn wistful. Were there men like that? Men who put women’s needs before their own?
Once again, their eyes met. Held too long. As if embarrassed, Calvin finally looked away and cleared his throat.
“Graham is in the barn,” he said, pointing toward his left.
Following the direction of his hand, she prepared to step back and walk away. It didn’t matter how she felt when she was around him, she had a duty to perform and that duty didn’t include investigating her feelings toward Calvin.
“Danke.”
“Wait! I, uh . . . I was just heading that way. How about I take you there?”
“You have time?” Oh, but she was grasping at just about anything in order to spend time with him!
“Of course I do. Or I could just tell him to go see Mattie for you. Spare you the trouble.”
Walking the fifty steps or so wouldn’t be much trouble. But being in Calvin’s company a little bit longer might be, Lucy knew. If she left right away, Lucy could return to that retreat she’d built for herself. There in that safe place she would pretend she was functioning just fine. That she didn’t need other people to be happy. That she didn’t need another man in her life to complicate things. There, everything was as it should be.
Was as she’d hoped it would be.
Lord knew, she’d just been writing about that in her diary!
But, sometime during the past year, Lucy knew she’d also started to trust herself again. Oh, she was far from the vivacious woman she’d been before marrying Paul. But maybe—just maybe—she wasn’t quite as skittish as she used to be.
Maybe she wasn’t as fearful of her emotions. Or as fearful of other men. “Lucy, are you all right?”
“I’m sorry, I was woolgathering. You know, if you could go speak to Graham for me, I would be most grateful. I need to get back to Mattie. I would hate for her to be alone much longer.”
“Ah. I’ll go tell Graham, then.” But still he paused. Searching her face, looking for encouragement.
And, oh, she yearned to give him that—but it wouldn’t be good for her. Nor was it what she should be concentrating on.
Keep your mind on your task, Lucy
, she cautioned herself.
That’s what is important
.
“Please don’t forget to tell him to hurry. I mean, if he can come at all.”
“I won’t forget.”
When she raised a hand to tell him goodbye, he shook his head.
“The least I could do is walk you to your buggy.”
“That’s not necessary—”
“It’s on the way, yes?”
“You’re right. I . . .
Danke
.”
He closed the door behind him, and they set out, first walking under the few feet of covered porch before strolling out into the April sun.
Calvin smiled her way as they approached her buggy, parked in the shadows of the barn so the horse could stand in relative comfort. “So . . . are you settled in okay at your cousin’s house?”
“I am. Well, as much as I can, I suppose. There’s a lot to do . . .” Her voice trailed off.
“I imagine so.”
“How is Katie? And how is your uncle doing here? Is he enjoying being back in Jacob’s Crossing?”
Calvin chuckled. “Katie is as she always is—a handful. And my uncle, I believe he’s settling in fine.”
“He’s happy to be back here on the farm?”
“Oh, he’s not here. He’s living in town, near the library.” His eyes sparkling with amusement, he said, “He’s living above a donut shop.”
“Truly?”
“Yep. And he likes it . . . a lot, too! You should stop by there one day. Or I could even take you?”
“Yes, I will stop by soon,” she murmured, doing her best to ignore his offer without being too rude.
“You know, Lucy . . . one day we should spend some time together. Talk to each other more.”
“About what?”
“Oh, this and that.” After a beat, he continued: “You know, it’s occurred to me that we’ve never really talked too much about our pasts.”
“There’s not much to say,” she said quickly.
His eyebrows rose. “Oh?”
Now she felt like a liar. And worse, there was something in his eyes that told her he knew more than he was letting on.
But maybe that was simply her imagination? “Well . . . I had best get back to Mattie.”
“And I’ll tell Graham to head over soon.”
He smiled, and just like clockwork, Lucy felt his interest in her. And felt her body respond. When he smiled her way, his gaze was soft, almost like a caress.
A moment passed.
Looking just as startled as she felt, Calvin cleared his throat. “Well, now. I should probably be on my way. Lucy, I am glad that our paths crossed.”
She’d been glad to see him, too.
Too
glad. “I’ll tell Mattie that Graham will be over as soon as he can,” she said, injecting a friendly, easy tone into her voice.
“Yes. Please do.” He stepped backward. Resumed a more formal posture. “Goodbye, Lucy.”
“Goodbye to you, Calvin,” she murmured as she finally got back into her buggy and released the break.
T
hrough the cloud of pain and dizziness, Mattie recognized Graham’s cool hand and matter-of-fact personality. “Graham,” she tried to say, but even to her own ears, it sounded much like a grunt.
“Mattie, only you would try to speak at a time like this,” he muttered. “Now, sit still and lean back, would you? You need to settle your head and your stomach for a time.”
With a frown his way, she leaned back against the hard rails of the rocking chair. But instead of finding comfort, she only felt the hard planes digging into her spine and shoulder blades. Even her bottom and thighs felt sore.
The nurse had talked about an increased sensitivity to her skin, but this was more than she’d ever imagined happening. With a wince, she shifted, but that only served to push the rocker back and for her to lose her balance.
And for the nausea to return.
“Oh, Graham, I am sorry I asked you to come over. I shouldn’t have. I’m in quite a state today.”
But instead of chiding her like he usually did, Graham crouched in front of her and clasped her hands, comforting them in his warm, capable ones. “I’m not sorry at all. Matter of fact, I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be. It’s a
verra
bad day you’re havin’ today, ain’t it?”
Raising her gaze, she met his own. “It is a bad day. But it is no worse than that. It’s just that the medicine they’ve been putting in my veins has made me feel terrible.”
“I don’t recall you complaining about the other time you had the chemotherapy. You didn’t get so sick, did you?”
Fighting through her nausea, she attempted to explain things. “
Nee
. But the nurses said that the medicine is like that. It’s a cumulative thing. All of a sudden, my body will say that it has had enough of this poison.”
He winced.
And she knew she’d been too blunt. “Graham, I’m sorry,” she said again, hating how whiny she sounded. Hating that he was witnessing it.
And that it was all her fault. “I asked Lucy to go get you because you always seem to know what to say. You always seem to be able to shake me out of whatever doldrums I fall into, and to make things so much better.”
“It’s a wonderful quality of mine,” he said modestly—though she caught the gleam of amusement in his eye. “But today, however, I’m afraid I don’t seem to be doing a good job of it.” Almost tenderly, he brushed a thumb against her knuckles. “Is my being here making it worse?”
“Not at all.” She slumped. “But I don’t seem to be able to shake things.”
Straightening, Graham reached for both her hands. “On your feet now.”
He wanted to go walking? What in the world had gotten into him? “Graham—I feel too bad to go for a walk . . .”
“Oh, but you are a stubborn woman, Mattie Lapp,” he blurted, his voice as hard as it ever was. “Just listen for once, now, will ya?”
“I will.” But still, she felt as lost as ever. She’d asked him over to help her feel better. But so far, all he seemed to be doing was getting her riled up.
Finding the strength from somewhere, Mattie obediently stood. “There. Is this better?”
“Nee.”
He sighed as he wrapped one arm around her and then ever so gently guided her to the long couch near the room’s pair of windows.
Then, to her surprise, he sat down and guided her down right next to him. Close enough so that their sides touched. “But this is better now,
jah
?”
Every bone and muscle in her body felt like it was on fire—and felt weak as well. It was as if her body couldn’t hold her weight any longer.
Oh, for heaven’s sakes!
She was going to black out! Either collapse against the back of a couch in a terrible, horrible slump . . . or lose herself completely and faint. As her world spun, she clutched at his arms. “Graham, I don’t know how to tell you this, but I think I’m—”
She had no more words as he sighed and rearranged her in his arms. Now she was leaning back against his very solid, very hard and muscular chest.
His support felt so good, but surely it wasn’t appropriate. “Graham, maybe—”
“Shh, Mattie,” he commanded. After a second, he spoke again, his voice smoother, almost like a song. “Hush, now, Mattie. I’ve got ya. Just relax now. Please, just rest.”
Little by little, her body conformed to his. Slowly relaxing. At least her body was, because her mind was spinning. What they were doing certainly wasn’t proper. No, she surely knew she wasn’t supposed to be lying against him.
Alone. Once more, this was certainly not what she had intended to happen when she’d asked Graham to come over.
But as her muscles slowly relaxed and his calm heartbeat thudded a reassuring rhythm against her body, Mattie knew she didn’t care anymore.
An overwhelming sense of relief and comfort floated through her, as the pain that had racked her body slowly ebbed and flowed into something manageable.
“I’ve got ya, Mattie,” he said again, rubbing one calloused hand along her arm. “I’m glad ya sent for me, and I promise you this—there’s nowhere else I need to be. Nowhere else I’d
rather
be.”
“I’m glad we’re friends,” she murmured, feeling sleep start to tug at her.
Behind her, she felt his body tense for a moment, like he was hiding a kind of secret pain. “I . . . I am, too, Mattie. I’m
verra
glad we’re friends as well.” He coughed. “Now, though . . . it is time for you to stop this nonsense of fighting, and let your body relax. Take a nap, why don’t you? It’s what your body needs.”
As if on cue, her eyelids did seem heavy—too heavy to try to keep open. “You won’t go?”
“I won’t go anywhere at all. Not until you wake up. Sleep, Mattie,” he repeated. His words sounded sweet, but held a hint of iron will. “Sleep and dream sweet dreams.”