A Husband For Mari. Emma Miller

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СКАЧАТЬ out of the arrangement before he’d even met me.”

      “So no ham for Menno and Titus tonight.” Sara gave a firm nod of her head. “They can go home, have cold liver and onions and pester their own mother.”

      “Like I do sometimes,” Zachary chimed in.

      The women laughed, and Mari glanced at her son. What had gotten into Zachary? He talked when they were alone together, but he was usually quiet around strangers. Apparently he’d finished setting the table; now he was holding a towel for Ellie. She’d just come down off the ladder to find hot mitts and slide a gigantic pan of gingerbread from the oven.

      “So Zachary worked with the men today, I hear,” Mari said. “I hope he wasn’t any trouble. James said it would be fine, but I don’t want to...” She searched for the right words as an image of James came to her and she felt her cheeks grow warm. What on earth was wrong with her, being so silly over some man she didn’t even know? Just tired, she supposed. “I just wouldn’t want to take advantage of anyone’s kindness,” she said.

      “He was no trouble at all. What this house needs is some active children.” Sara went back to the refrigerator and removed pickles and a crockery bowl containing chowchow. “Not only was he no trouble but he was helpful. First he worked outside with the men. Then he came in and made the gingerbread for dessert.”

      “Zachary made gingerbread?” Mari wanted to pinch herself to make certain she wasn’t dreaming. “I didn’t know he was interested in cooking.”

      “Not cooking, Mom,” Zachary corrected. “Baking. Sara said if I learn to make really good gingerbread, they’ll sell it at the shop where you work and I could make money doing that, too.”

      Ellie carried a pan of gingerbread to a soapstone-topped counter and set it down to cool. “Addy was telling me she thought Sara’s gingerbread would be a good seller. I know it’s a butcher shop, but they want a couple shelves of baked goods, too.”

      “We didn’t make it from a box,” Zachary explained. “I mixed flour and eggs and ginger spice and stuff. It took a long time.”

      “I can’t wait to taste it.” Mari offered Ellie a smile of gratitude.

      It usually took Zachary a long time to warm up to strangers, but he was acting as though he’d known Ellie for ages. Ellie obviously had a real knack for dealing with children.

      Mari heard the sound of a car coming up the driveway, and Sara turned from the stove. “That must be Peter,” she said, wiping her hands on her apron. “Ellie, watch that the potatoes don’t burn. I’ll just go out and welcome him. Mari, can you go fetch James?”

      “Going.”

      “Plenty of coats hanging in the utility room,” Sara instructed. “You might as well just save your own for good. On a farm, a sturdy denim is best, anyway.”

      Mari found a coat and slipped into it. Though the style was certainly utilitarian and obviously Amish, Sara’s old coats were warmer than her own. Buttoning up, she dodged Hiram coming in with a bucket of milk and hurried across the back porch.

      She walked around the house to find James using a power saw to trim a length of wood. Walking up makeshift steps into the still-open-to-the-elements addition, she called his name, but he couldn’t hear her over the loud whine of the power tool. She waited for him to finish the cut and turn off the saw before speaking again. The gas-powered generator was still running, but it was far enough away that the noise wasn’t too bad. “James?”

      “Oh, hey.” He turned toward her and smiled. “Sorry I didn’t hear you, Mari. I was just finishing up here.”

      He said her name correctly—just like Mary. Some people wanted to call her Maury because of the way she spelled her name. It was short for Maryann, but she’d never liked that name, so when she started writing the shorter version, as a child, she decided to use an i instead of a y.

      Mari’s breath made small clouds of steam, and she pulled the coat tighter around her and suppressed a shiver. The walls and roof cut off some of the wind, but there was no heat. Her ears and nose felt cold, and she wondered how the carpenters could work outside in such bitter weather.

      “What can I do for you?” James asked.

      And then he smiled at her again, and she immediately became flustered. “Um, I— Sara—” Mari couldn’t seem to speak, and she had no idea why. Obviously it had something to do with James, but she didn’t understand her reaction. This was so unlike her.

      Mari didn’t dislike men, but she certainly wasn’t in awe of them like other women her age she’d known. She’d learned that a woman who wasn’t looking for a boyfriend or a husband found life a lot easier. James was looking at her expectantly, but his expression was curious, not impatient. She glanced around at the half-finished space. There didn’t seem to be any of the other workmen there, which made her mission easier since Sara had specified James and not any of the others.

      “Sara sent me to ask you if you’d join us for supper,” she said in a rush, then went on to explain why Sara was hoping that he’d join them.

      James unplugged and wound the power cord for the saw. “I’d be glad to. I’d be having leftovers at home.” He noticed her looking at the saw. “You’re wondering about the electric saws and such.”

      She nodded. Sara had a lot more modern conveniences than the Amish community Mari had come from in Wisconsin. Her uncle hadn’t even had a real bathroom; they still used an outhouse. Maybe this community was a lot more liberal, she thought.

      “Gasoline-powered generators are okay,” he explained. “Makes the job go faster. I can build the traditional way when I need to, but Sara wanted this addition done as soon as possible.”

      Mari took in the size of the structure. “She must be expecting a lot of company. Wanting more bedrooms.”

      “She’s big business in Seven Poplars. Got a waiting list of folks wanting to come and stay and find a spouse.” James placed the heavy saw on a stack of lumber and covered it with a tarp. “So how was your first day at the shop?”

      “Um. Good.” Her mind went blank. She studied him, wondering at his interest in her day. It had been a long time since anyone had asked her about her day.

      James Hostetler appeared to be in his late twenties, maybe a little younger than she was. His height was average, maybe five-eleven, not as tall as the Swartzentruber brothers or Thomas. James was lanky, with slender, sinewy hands. His fair German complexion was suntanned, his eyes slightly oval and his hands and wrists calloused from a lifetime of manual labor.

      James possessed a typical Amish face, more long than round; light brown feathery hair, very clean; a well-defined nose; and a wide, expressive mouth. He was handsome, though not overly so, with a friendly smile and the intelligent brown eyes she’d noticed on first meeting him. He moved easily, almost boyishly, with a bounce in his step. She didn’t know James and she didn’t give her trust easily, but she was inclined to like him. He seemed trustworthy, which wasn’t a trait she saw often in her world.

      Not that she was interested in him in any romantic sort of way. Her life was complicated enough without that. She’d proven with Ivan, Zachary’s father, that she didn’t have good judgment when it came to choosing a partner. And she had quite enough on her plate without more complications. A man was СКАЧАТЬ