The Caregiver - By Shelley Shepard Gray Page 0,37
though they didn’t have a date or anything planned, he knew there was an attraction between them that couldn’t be denied. Every time he was near her, he couldn’t help but stare at those unusual eyes of hers.
Taking out a fresh towel, he started wiping down one of the empty bakery cases.
And then thought about Jayne some more. Yep. One of these days, he was going to have to ask her out. Maybe he’d take her into Chagrin Falls—it was only a thirty-minute drive. He could take her out to dinner . . . they could walk around the square, look at the falls.
She could smile at him . . . and he could think about kissing her good night—
“Excuse me? Are you working?”
Slowly, he got to his feet from where he knelt. “Obviously,” he replied, smiling to take the sting out of his remark. He’d always had the tendency to be too cheeky.
The Amish woman’s eyes widened as he stood up, then she carefully stepped a little closer to her son standing next to her. He was a handsome boy, on the verge of manhood. Probably twelve, or thereabouts.
“May I help you?” he asked.
“You may,” she said primly. “We need a dozen donuts, please.”
He washed his hands quickly, then grabbed a box. “Any special kind?”
She bit her lip, just as if she was making the biggest decision of the day. Finally she looked at him. “All glazed, please.”
Her eyes were a pale green, the exact same color as the boy’s. Leaning his elbows on the counter, he smiled at the boy. “Are you sure? We have lots of other kinds. Lemon filled, cream cakes . . .”
Her eyes widened, then she shook her head. “No, glazed will do fine.”
Agreeably, he arranged the twelve donuts in a box, then smiled at the boy. “When you order twelve you get a baker’s dozen. Do you want your thirteenth now?”
His eyes lit up. “Can I, Mamm?”
Again, John watched her make the stupendous decision. But instead of feeling irritated, he became amused. She really was a cute thing. “All right,” she finally said. “You worked hard at the store today.”
“What kind do you want?” John asked.
“Chocolate,” the boy said.
After John gave him it, the boy whispered and pointed to the window.
The lady nodded and watched him leave before turning to John. “How much?”
“Six-fifty.” While he waited for her to get out her wallet, John said, “Good-looking boy you have.”
She handed him a five. “Danke. I mean, thank you.”
“I know Danke. I grew up Amish,” he said, surprising himself. He couldn’t remember the last person he’d told out of the blue like that. “I see he has your eyes. Is he your only one?”
“Yes.” She smiled. “My Abel is a wonderful-gut son. He’s been a great help to me ever since my husband passed on to heaven.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“I am, too.” She shrugged. “But unfortunately, I lost my husband almost eight years ago. It’s been some time.”
“And you haven’t remarried?”
She shook her head, then stilled. Perhaps noticing, as John was, that the conversation was bordering on awkward.
He handed her the box, neatly taped up. “Here you go. I hope you’ll come back.”
“Are you new here?”
“In a way. I’m John Weaver, Jacob Weaver’s younger brother, if you know his family. I moved away twenty years ago, but I’m back.”
“To stay?”
“Yes.”
She looked at him again, then finally smiled. “Then perhaps I will see you again. Abel and I enjoy these donuts.”
“Especially the glazed?”
Her cheeks pinkened just like a girl’s. “Yes,” she murmured before turning away.
John watched her walk over to where her son was chatting with two other boys. She smiled. And then, to his amusement, she opened the box and offered the boys donuts, too.
John was . . . charmed.
She was fresh and sweet and had the prettiest eyes he’d ever seen. And though she knew his name, and he knew Abel’s, John realized he didn’t know her name. He really should have asked.
“Mattie? Mattie, can you hear me? It’s time to wake up for a bit.”
Mattie opened her eyes, looked at Lucy, and groaned. “How can this medicine be making me better? This morning, I feel ten times worse than I did at the medical center.”
“The nurses warned that might be the case,” Lucy said as she perched on the side of the bed. She held up a cup of ice water. “Do you want a sip?”
Mattie didn’t want a thing. She wanted to curl up in a ball and wish her