Very gently, he placed the bear into her hands, like she mattered the world to him. “No matter what happens, take it, Kate. I bought it for you. Whenever you look at it, you can think of me.”
“I won’t need the bear to recall you.”
Her frank words had made him chuckle. Oh, she’d always taken his words so literally! “You might.”
And so, she had held that bear in her arms. She’d kept it even after he’d told her he loved her. Even after she’d told them the truth about who she was.
Even after she told them that she didn’t love him. Not enough, anyway.
To her shame, Katie had encouraged his attentions. She’d smiled and flirted and hinted that she wanted everything he did.
Yes, she had disregarded everything she’d known to be morally right. She’d lied to her new friend, and instead of feeling vaguely guilty about hurting Holly’s brother, Katie had felt triumphant. Important. Oh, so very full of herself.
Looking back, Katie wondered how she could have gone so far astray.
“Thank you,” she’d said, giving the bear a little hug.
“Thank me with a kiss, Kate.”
Kate. Brandon had called her Kate only a few times. But each time had felt special. Like she was part of his group, and had a nickname like all the others.
Like she belonged with him. And because she wanted it, too, she’d leaned closer and kissed him. His arms had curved around her. His hands had rubbed her back, then skimmed her body, his touch heavy and sure. Within moments, that kiss had become heated and out of control.
Almost.
In the flickering candlelight of her temporary bedroom, Katie flinched. What had possessed her to encourage him so?
Because it had been exciting? Because it had felt wonderful to be wanted?
Because no matter how much she’d smiled Jonathan Lundy’s way, he’d only looked blankly back at her in return, his grief too overpowering to notice anything else?
And, yes, she had started to think about Jonathan a fair bit. After Sarah had died when Katie was almost nineteen, she’d seen him at community functions after a few weeks of isolation. He’d looked so stalwart. So alone. She’d begun to dream about helping him. Imagine being the one to make him smile again.
And though she’d thought she’d been rather secretive, it had been fairly obvious to everyone around.
Especially to her sister, Rebekeh, who was always so practical and always so blunt. After spying Katie’s infatuated gaze for a good long minute, she’d nipped those dreams of infatuation. “Jonathan is not yours, and never will be,” she’d said after Katie had almost embarrassed herself by eyeing Jonathan from across the way one Sunday after church.
“I know that.” But, in truth, she had hoped that one day he would look over and notice her, too. Especially since no one at the gatherings had ever stirred her interest before.
No one had except Brandon, and she’d always known he wouldn’t be an acceptable beau.
“Do you? You don’t look that way. You look like you’re imagining a life with Jonathan.” In her usual, no-nonsense way, Rebekeh made a proclamation. “Mark my words, that’s not going to happen.”
“It might. One day I bet he’s going to want another wife. One day he’s going to want someone to help raise his daughters.”
“He has Winnie to help.”
“Winnie isn’t going to want to live with them forever.”
In reply, Rebekeh had merely handed Katie a casserole dish to carry to the picnic table. “You don’t know that. What you are thinking is mighty wrong, Katie Brenneman. You’d do best to put it out of your pretty head.”
Katie had tucked her head in shame but couldn’t seem to help her wayward thoughts.
When Sarah died, Katie had already been enjoying her rumspringa for a year. She’d been enjoying Brandon’s attention, though she’d also had begun to feel wary around him. It was becoming obvious that Brandon felt far more serious about her than she did about him.
Then, she’d started imagining a future with Jonathan, Mary, and Hannah. And those daydreams had been hard to shake.
Especially the dreams about being his wife.
She’d imagine saving him, removing his worried frown, taking her place in the community as a married woman. She’d think about raising his daughters, and to have more kinner of her own. She’d picture what it would be like to look across the dinner table and feel his approval. To receive warm, sweet glances from him, the way Brandon looked at her. To be loved. For him to want her as his wife.
Outside a wind blew through the trees, brushing two stray branches against the windowpane. Reminding her of the bitter truth. As one month passed into two, then three, Katie had begun to respond to Brandon.