Authors: Shelley Shepard Gray
“G
raham. Oh, my goodness! What’s wrong?” Mattie’s voice rose. “What’s happened?”
Graham realized that his late, unannounced visit had scared the wits out of Mattie. “Nothing’s wrong.”
Visibly relaxing, she rested against the door. Then stared hard at him. “So there’s nothing the matter? You’re here for no reason?”
“No.” Then, thinking about how confused he’d been feeling about William—and how he really did need a better excuse for his call—he amended his words. “Well, there might be.”
She blinked sleepily. “I still don’t understand. Is someone hurt?”
“
Nee.
Nothing like that,” he said quickly. “I, uh . . . I just wanted to speak with you about something.”
Mattie’s eyes narrowed as she closed the door a few inches and hid the majority of her body behind it. “If you’re not here for a purpose . . . couldn’t you have waited until morning? It’s late.”
“Not that late. Come on, Mattie. Let me in. It’s freezing out here.”
“It’s also after nine.” Pointing to the clock resting on the table behind her, she said, “Actually, it’s almost ten.”
Graham was on the verge of teasing her about the time—she was acting like it was midnight—when he realized she was right. It was late. Too late for him to show up unannounced. It was inappropriate for him to visit at that hour.
But he felt so twisted and confused, he didn’t dare apologize. Instead, he pressed forward. “Obviously, I wouldn’t have come over if what I had to say wasn’t important. I really need to speak with you. Can I come in?”
To his surprise, she still didn’t move to the side. “Of course you may not.”
“Why not?” Now he was getting slightly irritated. “Mattie, have you felt the air? My feet are turning numb. Plus, we need to talk. Really.”
“If you had wanted to talk to me so badly, you should have come over earlier.”
“Come on . . .”
With a scowl, she waved a hand over herself. “Have you even looked at what I’m wearing? Don’t you even see that I’m not dressed?”
He blinked, realizing that she was dressed in a white and blue striped nightgown and thick ivory robe, and her feet were bare.
As he looked her over, the first thing that he thought of was that she looked adorable. Then, well, he was more than a little bit embarrassed. Here he’d been so intent on his own agenda that he hadn’t even taken the time to really look at her.
And hadn’t that often been his problem with Mattie? He took her for granted? He was not about to turn away now.
“You’re covered, though you really should’ve put some slippers on.”
“You are actually going to stand there and tell me I should put something on my feet?”
Her voice had risen. Graham knew she was uncomfortable. But the walk had been long and cold and his worry hadn’t tempered one bit. Raising his chin, he changed his tone to lofty. “Oh, come on, Matilda. Stop being so silly. Besides, we both know I’ve seen you in that same outfit when you were sick.”
“This isn’t the same. And Graham Weaver, don’t call me Matilda.”
“Then let me in.” Giving it one last try, he smiled at her the way he always had when he’d wanted something. “Come on, Mattie,” he coaxed, making his voice as wheedling as he could. “Just long enough to let me warm up. My nose is cold, too. And my fingers. Let me come in.”
“Graham—”
“Please?”
Finally, he saw wavering.
“Mattie, I was with you when you were practically lying on the bathroom floor. I promise, I’ve seen you looking worse.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Is that right?”
“Sorry, but you forced me to say it.”
Without another word, she inched open the door. “Come in, then. But you may not stay long.”
“I won’t.” After he got inside, he pushed the door shut with a satisfied thump, then followed her to the living room.
“Ah, you’ve got a fire. Perfect!” Within seconds, he had his gloves, scarf, and hat tossed on the floor. “I needed this. Why, my fingers were practically turning blue, they were so cold.” He stood for a moment, enjoying the warmth spreading through his hands and face. “I tell you, I think this must be one of the coldest nights of the year.”
“Winter has come with a vengeance,” Mattie said, almost grudgingly standing next to him and holding her hands out to the flames.
Unable to stop the impulse, he reached for her hand. When he felt how cool her skin was, he covered her hand with his other and gently rubbed them between his. Trying to warm them up.
Looking bemused, she let him rub her hand. When he threaded a set of fingers through hers, she spoke. “What in the world are you doing?”
“Your hand is chilly. I was just trying to warm it up.”
Smiling slightly, she shook her head. “I doubt that will help much. I seem to be always cold now.”
“Mattie. Are you going to be cold forever, do you think?”
A flash of desire, and of something he couldn’t decipher entered her eyes, then with another blink she pushed it away. “I was perfectly warm until I opened the door to you.”
He grinned at her sharp tongue. “I can wait here while you go put on slippers.”
“If you speak quickly, I won’t need to put them on.”
Oh, that tone! She was obviously at the end of her patience with him. Pretending to be contrite, he said, “Thank you for letting me in.”
Her lips twitched. “You’re welcome. Now stop beating around the bush. What in the world is so important?”
“You.”
As quick as one of those flames in the fireplace, she yanked her hand away. “What about me?”
Uh-oh. Things weren’t going as smoothly as he’d hoped. “How about we sit down?”
Mattie followed him and sat, but he could tell she was becoming impatient with his beating around the bush. He could hardly blame her, it wasn’t like him to hedge so much.
“Graham, please talk.
Now,
” she commanded, hardly blinking when he turned to face her, close enough that their legs touched. “What about me?”
Having already decided to try not to tell her that they’d been talking about her at work, he approached the topic in a roundabout way. “Well, you see . . . I heard William was coming over to see you this evening.”
“He did.”
“And I heard that he’s come over before. Several times.”
“Well, yes. Not several. Twice. But you knew that.”
“I knew he’d visited you once,” he corrected.
Tilting her head to one side, Mattie looked at him curiously. “Why do you care?”
“I have my reasons.”
“Such as?”
He cleared his throat. “Actually, Mattie, I’ve been thinking, and I believe it would be best if maybe you didn’t see him anymore.”
“I don’t understand. Why?”
He wasn’t ready to tell her all his suspicions. “When you are alone with William . . . how is he?”
“He is fine.”
Why was it now that Mattie decided to be so closemouthed? “Well, what do the two of you do together?”
“We—” As if she had just realized what she was doing—giving him exactly what he asked for—Mattie stopped and glared. “Why do you ask? What has got you so spun up?”
“Nothing. I mean, well . . . he told me he was going to see you . . .” His voice drifted off as he realized he now had no idea how to tell her what he was worried about.
After a long pause, her eyes widened. “Graham, did he say something about me?” Self-consciously, she put one of her hands to her
kapp
. “Did he say he thought I was ugly?”
“Of course not.” Not wanting to hurt her, he shook his head. “No. No, nothing like that. It’s just . . . it’s just, I don’t think you should see him anymore. I don’t think he’s the man for you.”
“But he likes me . . .”
“Mattie, you can find a better man. I’m sure of it.”
Pure hurt flashed in her eyes. “I doubt that. No one’s come around yet.”
Why was he only now realizing just how glad he was that he wasn’t one of her relatives? Everything he was feeling for her had little to do with brotherly love.
No, it was more of a possessiveness that was catching him off guard and keeping him awake at night. He didn’t want another man to be important to her. He wanted to be the only one she thought of.
He wanted the two of them to be courting.
But of course he couldn’t say those things. Why, if he did, Mattie would either kick him out of the house or run away, scared of the things he was spouting. To her, he’d always been her friend. Her pal.
Folding her arms over her chest, she raised one very faint eyebrow. The hair there had only recently started to sprout. It was so baby-fine her brows reminded him of an angel’s wings. Delicate and fragile.
“Graham? Are you even going to try to explain yourself?”
Well, all right. He could definitely try. “Mattie, we are good friends. Mighty good friends. That gives me a reason to offer my opinion, don’tcha think?”
“That is true . . .” She paused, then walked toward the doorway. “But that is not a good enough reason to come running here at night, offering your opinions.”
“But Mattie—”
“I’m sorry, Graham. But I’m out of patience with you. It’s not like you’re my brother.”
Once again, he thanked the good Lord that Mattie Lapp wasn’t his sister. “I know that.”
She crossed her arms in front of her and shifted. “Well, then . . .
gut naught,
Graham.”
He had to say something quickly. He had to give her a reason or this moment would be gone and he’d be stuck backtracking for days. “I overheard him talking about you,” he blurted.
One by one, her arms dropped. “And?”
“And, uh, I don’t think he understands just how difficult your cancer was.”
A wrinkle formed in the middle of her forehead. “And why should that matter?”
“He needs to treat you gently, that’s why.”
Mattie had the gall to laugh. “Oh, Graham. Listen to you! I don’t want to be treated gently.”
Stunned, he stepped back. “But of course you do . . .”
“I’m not made of glass. In fact, the doctors say I’m as good as new.” She bit her lip. “Well, almost as good as new.”
He knew she was talking about her surgery. “You’re perfect now. But you do need special care . . .”
“I don’t.” To his dismay, her voice rose. “Graham, just so you know, I like seeing someone who doesn’t always look at me with pity. William definitely does not.”
There was a gleam in her eyes that brought out every bit of jealousy he’d been holding close to his chest. It made him start to wonder just how, exactly, William had looked at her.
Pure irritation coursed through him. Oh, but no one could irritate him like Mattie Lapp.
“Not everyone who is concerned looks at you with pity,” he snapped.
“You do.”
“I certainly do not.”
To his aggravation, she rolled her eyes. “Yes, you do.”
He’d seen her white as a ghost in the hospital room. He’d held her on the bathroom floor when she was too nauseous to move. And in a flash, he recalled all the emotions that had run through him while he’d tried to be everything she needed. Pain, helplessness, worry. And yes, even pity.
He’d hated that she’d been so sick. “I do not pity you now.”
“
Now
, huh? Well, William doesn’t, either.” Her chin lifted as pure defiance entered her eyes. “As a matter of fact, he told me tonight that he wants to court me.”
“You hardly know each other. He shouldn’t be so pushy.”
“It’s not pushy. It’s what I want.”
“I doubt that.”
“And why?”
“Because you’re only now feeling better. You need to wait and let your spirit heal along with your body. Mattie, I promise, you’ll have time for courting.”
“But don’t you see? I don’t want to wait any longer. I want it now, Graham.”
He stepped forward. “What do you want? Excitement? Attention?”
She didn’t flinch when he stopped mere inches from her. Only looked into his eyes.
“Jah,”
she said. “I want everything. I want attention. I want excitement. I want a man to put his arms around me and hold me close.”
He’d done that. But of course, it had been when she was so ill she could hardly stand up. “Mattie—”
But Mattie continued just like he wasn’t there. Just like she was standing by herself, talking to the Lord. “I want a man to hold me close like he cares for me.”
His mouth went dry. He cared for her.
“I want him to kiss me,” she said after another beat.
He was shocked. “Mattie!”
Her eyes flashed. “Like William said he wanted to.”
Graham was so furious, he could hardly find his voice. “What do you mean? Did he try to kiss you?”