Wanted(11)
“I do.”
“Then why aren’t you happier? You heard your mother. You’re about to get what you want.”
She was happy. But how could she admit all her insecurities to someone like Anna, who had experienced so much and now was just months away from marriage? “It’s…it’s just that Winnie and her bossy nature is vexing. We used to be such good friends.” Picking up a dishcloth, she bent and swiped up a bit of flour that had fallen to the wooden floor. “I don’t remember her always being so pushy. It’s like she doesn’t even want to listen to anyone but herself.”
“She does sound desperate,” Anna agreed. “But maybe it’s just because she finally feels like it’s her time for love and she’s afraid to let the moment slip by.” Moving across the kitchen to Katie’s side, Anna picked up Katie’s finished pie shell and carried it to the oven. “I bet she’s still the same person you always knew underneath. Sometimes circumstances can change a person, you know?”
“I know.”
Taking two bowls to the sink, Anna said, “Actually you are the one who sounds strange. Ever since I’ve known you, you’ve had an eye on Jonathan Lundy. Now, though, you seem far more wary of him. Did something happen between the two of you?”
“No. Nothing has ever happened.” Or was ever likely to.
Of course, that was the problem. Longingly, Katie looked toward the door. Oh, how she wanted to get away from everyone, for just a little while.
“Well, then, are you embarrassed around Winnie? Do you think she knows about your feelings for her brother?”
“No,” Katie said. She wished that Anna would just stop. Stop. Her feelings for Jonathan were too mixed up. Especially now.
“If you were embarrassed, I’d understand. It’s hard admitting to having a fancy for someone’s brother.”
“I don’t fancy him, Anna.” The words came out harsher than she intended, but for the life of her, Katie wouldn’t take them back. She was tired of being seen as only a silly girl. She was more than that. Why, if everyone only knew the things she’d done…
They would be mighty surprised, for sure.
Eyes wide, Anna stepped back. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to press.”
Katie was sorry for her words, too. But she didn’t feel like apologizing. Yet, she knew she must. “I’m the one who is sorry, Anna. Please forgive my sharp words.”
Green eyes blinked. “Is there anything that I can help you with?”
“No.”
“Is it me? Does my being here bother you?”
Finally she could speak the truth about something. “No, Anna. Your being here is wonderful gut. Truly. Now let’s do what we’re supposed to do, jah? We have to finish preparing dinner, cleaning the kitchen, and ironing napkins, just like Maam said.”
Anna chuckled. “I’ll finish up those napkins, Katie.”
Later that day, after they’d served dinner, the kitchen had been cleaned and the animals tended to, after her father had read from the Bible and they all said good night, Katie was alone with only little Roman for company, snug in his basket with his favorite blanket that he liked to chew.
Carefully she opened the chest of drawers and pulled out a box from her past. A fancy papered box left from her time with the English. Like a fugitive, she’d smuggled it into the house, deathly afraid her mother would find it. Would ask why such a gaudy piece of work was in her possession.
Katie couldn’t rightly say. All she did know was that she couldn’t bear to part with the memories.
Not even the bad ones.
With a furtive glance toward the door, Katie carried the box to her bed and settled in. And then she lifted the lid. The heady fragrance of her secret life roared out of the enclosure like the spirit of Christmas past.
She blinked away the memories each scent envisioned.
Mint. A crushed rose. A tiny stuffed bear. Several fancy store-bought cards. With a sigh, Katie picked up the little brown bear and rubbed it against her cheek. If she closed her eyes, she could remember receiving it. Remember the joy she’d felt. The longing for things that couldn’t be.
Of things she shouldn’t want.
As if burned, Katie hastily tucked it back into the box and closed it. But still the scent lingered. Remnants of another time. A time that unfortunately wasn’t so long ago.
In her stark room, the memories seemed out of place. Foreign. As if they belonged to someone else. Someone reckless and wild. They belonged to the person she’d been for fifteen months.
It had all started out simply enough. She’d gone with two other teens to the back of Jonathan’s land, where a duffel bag was hidden. Inside were jeans and sweaters and T-shirts. Donning them felt exciting and terribly scary.