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Authors: Shelley Shepard Gray

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BOOK: The Survivor
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Chapter Twenty-Eight

T
he minute she realized John had walked to her house in the storm, Mary flung open the door and ran out to him. “John, I can’t believe you came all this way on foot!”

His eyes lit up as he reached for her hand. Then, with a wary eye toward the sky, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and guided her back inside. “You shouldn’t have come out here. You’re going to get soaked to the skin.”

“No worse than you,” she said as they headed toward the house. The wind was blowing so hard now that the rain seemed to be falling sideways. Tiny flecks of ice were interspersed with rain, making each drop feel like a pinch when it swiped her cheeks. “I hope you won’t catch cold.”

“I’m fine,” John said as he helped her scramble up the three steps leading to her door.

She held on to him with one hand, and closed her other hand over the icy railing. With two more steps, they were safely inside.

After closing the door behind them, John looked down on her. For a moment, she thought he was going to lean close and brush his lips against hers, but of course he straightened.

“Mary, I started worrying about you the minute I realized just how bad the storms are. How are you? Are you frightened? Do you need anything?”

She’d been scared to death. This afternoon proved to be another one of those times when she missed her husband terribly. Not only would he have comforted her through the crisis, but he would have taken care of everything, too. In the years since his death, there had been many a time when she’d come to realize just how much she’d taken William for granted.

He’d handled the hard, physical labor on the farm. That was true.

But he’d also had such a steady, confident nature that she’d come to depend on his advice and support. “I’ve been afraid, but I’ve been strong,” she said. She didn’t want John to think she was helpless.

Looking at her, pure pride shown in his eyes. “You’re incredible, Mary. Most women I know would be wringing their hands.”

“I’m not most women,” she teased. Of course, John didn’t have to know that she wasn’t near as courageous as he imagined. In fact, she would’ve gladly spent the last hour wringing her hands in worry—if she’d thought it would help. But of course in the years since William had passed, she’d learned that hand-wringing didn’t do much of anything besides create sore hand muscles.

She was just considering how much to admit to John when the wind blew hard against the front windows, making them rattle.

Looking at the panes of glass with concern, John threw a question over his shoulder. “Where’s Abel? We need to get to a better place fast.”

“He’s back in his bedroom. I had him gather a few things for the storm cellar.”

“Mamm?” Abel called from the hallway as he bounded in. “Mamm, we should go, don’tcha think?”

“Certainly. Especially now that John is here. Abel, he walked all the way over here in the rain. Isn’t that something?”

A moment of distrust flashed through the boy’s eyes before he contained himself and nodded. “Mr. Weaver.”

“I know you two probably have everything under control, but I thought I’d try to lend a hand. If I could.” There. He was asking permission, though he really didn’t know how he could physically make himself leave if Abel didn’t want him there.

As the wind knocked the windows around them, Abel glanced at the windows and then back at John. “I . . . I’m glad you’re here. For Mom.”

“I am a lucky woman,” Mary said, further smoothing things between them. “Now I have two men looking after me.” With another awkward smile, she said, “Well, are you two ready to go down to the storm cellar? It’s cramped and dark, but we’ll all be safer there. You know, just in case the winds get worse.”

“That sounds like the perfect plan. What can I carry?”

Mary strode to the kitchen counter. “We have a battery-operated flashlight and a Coleman lantern, too. If you carry these, I’ll get the box of food and blankets.”

John grabbed both from the counter. “Anything else?”

“Abel, can you think of anything I’ve missed?”


Nee,
Mamm. We just need to go. Now.”

“All right, then.”

After tossing the two lights in another box, he grabbed one of the blankets she’d been holding and held out a hand to her. “Ready?”

Oh, his voice was so dear. Right then and there, she knew she’d been right to trust him. Right to trust him with her son’s behavior, their welfare, and her heart. “I am now.”

After helping her grab a few more blankets and the basket full of neatly packed goods, he ushered Mary and Abel outside, holding her arm securely.

“Abel, stay near me!” he called out over the wind.

“I’m trying, but the wind is strong.”

“Indeed it is. But we’ll be better in your cellar.” After they opened the heavy wooden door, he shined the flashlight down into the dark cavity. “Are you ready for this?”

As the wind and rain blew against her face and cheeks, almost stinging her skin, she nodded. “Definitely.”

“Can you go first? I’ll follow with Abel.”


Jah
. I can do that,” she replied. And amazingly, she could! Everything seemed easier by his side.

After helping her get settled on the wooden bench and giving Abel a reassuring look, John positioned himself right in front of the door—as if he was doing everything he could to ensure their safety.

To Mary’s eye, he looked stronger than ever. And he seemed more determined to be a part of their lives. She wondered what had brought about the change. She knew he’d gone back to Indianapolis to not only revisit the past, but to also discover what the future had in store for him.

As the wind howled outside, a look of alarm entered his eyes. “Where’s Jenna?”

“She’s all right. She’s with Chris.”

“And who is Chris?”

Mary bit her lip to keep from smiling. Their situation wasn’t the least bit amusing, but his reaction was—a true combination of horror and embarrassment . . . and possessiveness. Like he truly cared about Jenna and was anxious to protect her, too.

“Chris is an
Englischer
who she’s friends with.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Friends?”

With an embarrassed look, she gestured toward Abel.
“Jah.”

Abel rolled his eyes. “Chris is her boyfriend. He’s who got her pregnant.”

Mary was beyond embarrassed. “Abel!”

“It’s true.”

To her relief, John just smiled. “Well, now I understand. So you feel she’s in safe hands? He’ll look out for her?”

“I think so. I believe they were off to talk to his parents.”

As the wind howled again, Abel shivered, betraying that he really wasn’t as brave and fearless as he was hoping to appear. The wind bristled against the door.

Truly, it looked as if it might not be any match for the fierce winds.

What if it wasn’t?

“John, there’s room on the bench with Abel and me,” she said, attempting to sound far more calm than she felt. “Please, come over here and sit with us.”

“I think it’s best if I stay here by the door. If something happens, I want to be here.”

“But you could get hurt,” Abel blurted out.

“And we would feel horrible if you were hurt,” she added. More quietly, she said, “We would feel horrible if
anything
bad happened to you.”

“Nothing’s going to happen. I promise. I’ll move next to you if the winds get worse.” As if on cue, the winds outside gusted and blew, making the cracks in the shelter whistle.

Seeking to reassure them both, he added, “It’s also important to me to protect you.”

After another flash of worry, Mary nodded. But Abel looked at him. “Why?”

“Why? Because I care about you, of course.”

Confusion clouded Abel’s eyes. But he said nothing.

John realized it was time to speak from his heart. “Listen, just in case something happens . . . I just want you both to know that you’ve become my family. You two have become the most important people to me in the world. I went to Indianapolis last week to be sure of some things. See, I started worrying about my feelings for the two of you.”

“What was worrying you?” Abel asked.

“My past. Back when I was eighteen, when I left here, I had to make a lot of sacrifices. Turning against my faith and family wasn’t easy. In fact, it was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. While I was considering returning to the church, to the Plain way of life, I was beating myself up. Part of me was starting to think that maybe it would be wrong to go back. To go back to everything I had given up.”

Mary’s face seemed to fill with hope and doubt and kindness. “You wanted to be sure,” she whispered.

“That’s right.” He couldn’t help but look at her in wonder. She understood him, even when he struggled to put all his jumbled thoughts in order.

No matter what, she was looking for the best in him.

In that moment, he realized that that was how she would always be. Kind. Giving. Wanting to respect his point of view.

She had survived the loss of her husband and now was ready to move on again. He had never felt more humbled.

“Are you sure now?” she asked.

John looked at her, looked at Abel sitting next to her— silent and waiting, too.

“I’m positive,” he said. Just as a terrible noise roared through their valley.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

F
or Jenna, the last two hours had felt like one of her old daydreams—the kind she used to have when she was sure the rest of her life was going to be sunny and perfect. Of course, she’d long since learned that such things could never happen.

But things had certainly come close. After she and Chris had left Mary’s house in his car, they’d driven around the outskirts of Jacob’s Crossing. At first, their conversation had been stilted, then things between them had smoothed and Jenna started remembering everything she’d liked about him.

Chris was the type of guy who seemed to actually try to
hear
her when she talked. He didn’t interrupt, or try to top her story with one of his. Instead, he simply listened and asked questions. Just as if everything she had to say was important.

He asked about the baby, too. Lots of questions about how she felt and how being with child felt. At first she’d been embarrassed, but then, little by little, she began to enjoy sharing the details with him. She’d been keeping so many things to herself, that it was a relief to share her excitement and apprehensions with him.

Then, after stopping for ice cream, they heard about the storm coming in. Though he offered to drive her the four extra blocks to Mary’s, Jenna declined the offer. For reasons Jenna didn’t care to contemplate—she wasn’t quite ready to leave his side.

Both his parents were in the kitchen when they arrived. Preparing for the onslaught of bad weather, they were searching through drawers for flashlights and batteries.

His mother looked at Jenna in confusion when they’d entered. “Hello?”

“This is Jenna,” Chris had said. Just as if he’d told them about her before. As if she mattered to him.

While Jenna had digested that, Mrs. Henderson shot her a somewhat distracted smile. “Jenna, it’s nice to meet you. It’s good you’re here and not out and about. The weather service just announced a storm warning and a tornado watch.”

“Yeah, we were driving around and heard about it,” Chris said. “I thought it would be safest to come right home.” Looking around, he asked, “Where’s Elizabeth?”

“She’s over at a girlfriend’s. They had a sleepover and with the weather like it is, we decided to let her stay there.” His mother looked at Jenna kindly. “I hope you won’t want to leave until things get better. I know you can’t call home. Will your family be worried if you aren’t there?”

“No,” she said, not eager to tell them that her parents didn’t even care where she was.

Chris opened his mouth, looking like he wanted to blurt out her condition. But to Jenna’s relief, he’d said nothing. Just offered to help carry a blanket and flashlights down to the basement.

They’d gotten downstairs just as the house’s electricity flickered, then suddenly shut down, covering everything in a cloak of darkness.

Chris quickly clicked on a flashlight. As a circle of light beamed in front of them, a beautiful golden retriever came off of her dog bed and stood next to them, tail wagging. “This is Goldie,” he said, looking slightly sheepish. “Pretty original name, huh?”

“I think she’s beautiful.” Jenna petted her with pleasure. Goldie stepped closer, obviously enjoying Jenna’s attention.

Crouching down, Chris knelt in front of the dog and petted her, too. “Goldie’s five. She’s a great dog.” Looking up at Jenna, he said, “I really am glad you’re here.”

Jenna was attempting to think of something to say when footsteps pounded down the wooden stairs, bringing Chris back to his feet.

“I have a bad feeling about this storm,” his mom said as she hurried down the stairs. “I think things are going to get worse before they get better.”

“Mom, don’t get all excited,” Chris blurted. “There’s no need to make everyone nervous.”

“No, your mom’s right. Sirens are going off outside. People are preparing for the worst,” his dad said as he stepped out of the stairwell holding a battery-operated lantern.

Jenna felt her stomach clench as fear for her family settled in. Though they didn’t want her anymore, she still cared for them, especially her brothers and sisters. Quickly, she closed her eyes and said a prayer for their safety.

When she opened them again, she was calmed by the way the lantern’s light cast a warm glow around the four of them and Goldie.

Chris patted her shoulder. “It’s okay, Jenna. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“No, we won’t,” his mother added with a smile. “Especially since we finally are getting to meet you. Chris speaks of you all the time.”

Jenna tensed, uncertain she believed the words. She was becoming used to no one being eager to see her, and being aware that what they told her to her face was far different than what they said behind her back.

“It’s true,” Chris said as he reached for her hand.

Immediately, his touch reassured her, though her feelings were at war once again. She knew better than to trust anyone.

Above them, thunder rumbled and the rain poured down so hard it sounded as if rocks were being thrown at the windows. Jenna looked above her head worriedly as, beside them, Goldie whimpered and paced.

Though she’d never been one to be frightened of bad weather, everything about this situation felt different and scary. Maybe it was because she was in an
Englischer’s
home? Or, perhaps it was because of the baby she was carrying?

Still staying near, Chris rubbed his thumb along her knuckles. “It’s okay. Just hail. We’ll be safe here in the basement.”

“Oh.
Jah
. To be sure,” she muttered, feeling somewhat embarrassed by her skittishness.

Looking around, Mr. Henderson snapped his fingers. “Let’s move over this direction,” he said. Obediently, the three of them followed, walking across the large expanse of the basement, finally coming to a stop in front of a large walk-in closet. “This is the most stable part of the house,” he explained. “Overhead are most of the support beams. We’ll be safe here, even if a tornado comes.”

Jenna shuddered at the thought.

Chris’s mom must have noticed, because she rushed over to one of the padded chairs folded against a wall. “Jenna, dear, why don’t you sit down?”

She felt silly, being the only one to sit while the others were standing in the rest of the space. “
Nee
. I’ll be fine standing with the rest of you.”

To her dismay, his mother apologized. “I know it’s not much, it’s just a fold-up chair from a game table, but it should be more comfortable for you.”


Danke,
the chair is fine,” she protested as she finally did sit down. “I didn’t mean for you to think I wasn’t grateful . . . I just don’t want to take up too much space.”

“You don’t,” his father said.

Feeling terribly self-conscious, she bit her lip and folded her hands on her lap. Maybe the storm wasn’t going to be near as bad as they were predicting. Maybe it would blow over soon and she could go back home.

Well, to Mary’s home. Once again, she thought of her parents and her brothers and sisters. Oh, she hoped they were somewhere safe, too.

Chris kneeled at her feet. With deliberate care, he reached for her hands and enfolded them into his own far larger, far warmer ones. “Jenna, I know you’re scared, but please let us take care of you,” he said softly. “After all, it’s my baby, too.”

Her heart practically stopped beating as his words pierced the air. Immediately, she darted a look at his parents, practically ready for them to start yelling at her or Chris.

Past experiences told her to pull her hands away and to try to escape. But Chris’s hands held firm. And the look in his eyes told so much more. He was showing her that no matter what, he wasn’t leaving her side.

A moment passed as Jenna felt his parents exchange glances.

But instead of shouting or acting shocked, his father merely raised a brow as he looked down at the pair of them. “So you finally decided to tell us, Chris?”

“You knew?”

After a moment, Mrs. Henderson spoke. “I heard some rumors the other day, about a very pretty Amish girl named Jenna and how her baby’s father was a mystery.” She paused. “Since you had told us all about Jenna, then said nothing, I wondered if maybe this Jenna was the one people were talking about.”

Jenna wrapped her arms around her stomach as Chris turned bashful. “I meant to tell you before now. I was just looking for the right time.”

“It’s my fault,” Jenna said. “I didn’t tell Chris until recently. I was too embarrassed.”

“You had enough to deal with, Jenna. Don’t apologize,” Chris said. He squeezed her hand softly before getting to his feet.

Jenna attempted to rise, too. But Chris stopped that with a brief look. “It’s okay,” he whispered, his lips close to her ear. “Please don’t worry so much. I promise, we’ll have plenty of time to work things out.”

She sat back down. As she did, she became aware of the interest his parents had taken in watching their exchange.

“You two really do care about each other, don’t you?” his mother said.

“Of course I care about her,” Chris replied.

“Have you both decided what you’re going to do?”

Jenna tucked her chin. This whole situation was throwing her for a loop.

Never had she imagined she’d even have a relationship with Chris, let alone be sitting with him and his parents, discussing things!

Until Chris had forced answers from her and refused to let her gloss over their relationship as a simple mistake, she’d truly thought they’d never have anything to do with each other again.

But now, here he was, supporting her in front of his parents, protecting her from the storm, and being so loving and tender. So much so, she still wasn’t quite sure how to respond to his gestures . . .

When she felt Chris’s gaze on her, silently asking for her to participate in the exchange, Jenna shrugged. “I don’t know what we’re going to do. To be honest, until I told Chris, I had been sure he would be upset with me.”

“Upset?” His mom darted a look Chris’s way. “I hope not—”

Above them, the wind picked up. Sounds of fallen branches rang through the air. Jenna flinched as several scraped at the windows above them.

Reality set in again, reminding them all that while things might be turbulent in their lives, they were also mighty turbulent in nature, too.

“Let’s table this discussion for another day,” his dad said sharply. “Nothing discussed now is going to mean much if things get worse.”

Jenna shivered at the not-so-subtle reminder that if the tornadoes really did come, the house and their lives would be in danger and might never look the same again.

Chris noticed, and immediately wrapped his arms around her. “Way to frighten Jenna, Dad,” Chris said.

“I’m merely telling the truth. Sometimes that’s all we can do, right?”

“You’re right,” Mrs. Henderson replied. “And you’re also right about the timing. We need to stand together and hold each other tight. Not worry about what-ifs at the moment.”

Jenna relaxed. Chris’s warm embrace helped her calm her nerves. As did his parents’ no-nonsense acceptance of not only the baby, but their relationship. Truly, it was like night and day from her parents’ reaction.

She shivered again as she silently relived her parents’ anger and extreme disappointment. Oh, but she’d felt so desperate when she’d shown up at Graham’s house. She’d really thought she had no one, and nowhere to go.

She started when she felt Mrs. Henderson’s hand on her shoulder. “Please don’t worry, Jenna. We’ll all get through this. I promise. The timing could have been a bit better, but the news about the baby is good.”

Jenna couldn’t hold back her shock any longer. “You really think that, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. Listen, I’ve been a pastor’s wife for a very long time. Every time I think I’ve seen or heard it all, God shows me differently. I promise, I’ve learned that there isn’t much that can’t be dealt with, as long as people communicate and pray,” she added, just as another burst of wind shook the house. A look of alarm flashed in her eyes as she gripped one of the thick columns that supported the main structure of the house. “Craig, I’m starting to get worried. It feels like the whole house is shaking.”

“Let’s all sit down. Chris, you take care of Jenna, and I’ll take care of your mother,” Mr. Henderson said.

Seeming more than glad to follow his father’s orders, Chris pulled up a chair and nestled beside her, pulling her even closer. Just as he did, the pressure in the air shifted. Soon, it felt as if all the oxygen was being sucked out of the room.

Jenna clutched Chris’s hand and closed her eyes tightly, praying with all her might.

And then an upstairs window broke.

BOOK: The Survivor
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