The Amish Bachelor's Choice. Jocelyn McClay

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СКАЧАТЬ a shed for machinery. All unused since Ruth and her daed began spending so much time at the shop that it made more sense to trade and purchase goods than grow everything themselves.

      The henhouse had been one of the last buildings to empty. As soon as she ducked inside the door, Ruth sighed at the immediate relief against the whipping wind. She cast a critical eye over the dimly lit interior. Thankfully, she’d cleaned it thoroughly after the last of the hens had gone. A few adjustments and a warm bed should make it a worthy daytime home for the pup.

      Ruth regarded the small run outside, considering what could be quickly done to eliminate all potential escape routes. The weave of the fence was small enough that he couldn’t get out, but not so big he could get stuck, so no adjustments needed there. The pup assisted the investigation by tugging on Ruth’s untied shoestrings. She bent to secure them and gave him a rub on his head. “Hannah was right—you are a rascal.” Gently cupping his muzzle, she met his happy eyes. “In fact, that might be a fitting name for you. I dub thee Rascal Fisher.”

      Releasing the newly christened pup, Ruth stood, setting her hands on her hips. “So, Rascal. I need to get some tools and fix that hole under the gate. Hannah said you were a magician at getting out. I wouldn’t recommend that today, as it looks like the weather is going to turn and I won’t be around to check on you.”

      Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, Ruth debated taking the pup to Hannah’s farmstead. “I don’t want them to think I can’t handle you. I know I can, but it will just take a little preparation. And you shared a shed and a run like this with your siblings and mother. You should be all right.” She worried her lip a little more. “I hope.”

      Turning to look for the pup, Ruth caught him in midsquat. “Good boy! That’s just what we needed. Let’s go inside for some breakfast while we figure the rest of this out.”

      By the time she secured Rascal’s shelter, Ruth was running late. Bess’s reluctant pace didn’t help. The mare kept ducking her head against the wind that was blowing in her face. The sky was piling gray in the west. Ruth urged the mare to hurry whenever Bess’s feet started to drag. She knew Malachi was going to be at the shop today. In fact, he might already be there.

      Bouncing on the seat helped Ruth expend nervous energy. More important, it helped keep her warm. She was grateful she’d remembered to bring along an extra quilt and glad she’d taken a moment to roll down the curtain doors of the buggy against the wind, but she was going to be late. She had never been late for work before. Ever. The others would be waiting for her to open the door.

      She’d taken a moment to stop at the mailbox of her nearest neighbor and stick in a message, asking if they’d check on the pup during the day. They had two daughters who still attended school. Ruth was hoping the girls wouldn’t mind the chance to play with a puppy. Providing, she amended with another uneasy glance at the sky, they did it earlier in the day before some weather hit.

      When she and Bess swept into the shed behind the woodshop, several other horses nickered in greeting. Ruth counted the bays in the makeshift stalls and her heart sank. They were all here. Plus one. Hurriedly, she unharnessed a grouchy Bess, wiped her down and guiltily gave her a offering of extra hay.

      Cheeks flushed with more embarrassment than cold, Ruth dashed in the door. The recalcitrant wind took the opportunity to blow a gust that jerked the door from her chilled hands and bang it hard against the wall. Hastily shutting it, she turned to find all eyes in the workshop looking in her direction.

      There were four sets of eyes she knew well. Upon seeing her, they nodded and returned to their work. But two new workers regarded her curiously. They watched as Ruth made herself walk sedately over to the coatrack, remove her black cape and bonnet, and hang them with the other coats there. They continued to observe her as she crossed to the cabinet and removed the safety glasses that she’d retrieved from the showroom yesterday—after she was sure he’d left. Since they were younger versions of the blue-eyed, blond man who also regarded her steadily, she figured they were the brothers who had come to join what had been her daed’s business.

      Ruth put on the glasses and turned to face the new owner. Some type of barrier seemed prudent before meeting his gaze. Malachi didn’t say anything, just flicked a glance to the clock over her head and raised an eyebrow before returning his impassive blue eyes to her. Even in his silence, Ruth felt severely chastised.

      Swinging around to avoid his penetrating gaze, she grabbed the first project she could put her hands on and set to work. Struggling because her palms were now sweaty—not a good combination with the work she was doing on the wood—she took a moment to calm herself.

      She was never late. With or without her father there, she’d always been the first one to the shop and the last one to leave.

      It didn’t take long before the familiar sounds and smells of the workshop lulled Ruth into her version of peace. Surprisingly, the morning went fast. Malachi didn’t come near her, although he worked and visited with the men. Every time someone entered the sales shop, he looked over at Ruth, who always stopped what she was doing and went to greet the potential customer.

      Having forgotten her lunch at home and not wanting to leave the shop during that break as she’d arrived late, Ruth took advantage of the empty office off the showroom to eat an apple she’d left in there when she’d been the sole resident. Looking out through the observation window into the showroom and farther to the street, she could see snowflakes joining the whipping wind. Ruth shivered. What a change in a day, but that was Wisconsin weather.

      Wiping her hands with a napkin after disposing of her apple, she sighed. He still hadn’t spoken to her. She wasn’t sure what that meant. He hadn’t come by to check the work she was doing. Did that mean he trusted her, or did it mean that it wouldn’t matter what she did, so he didn’t care? It shouldn’t matter to her, as she was leaving. But she liked to know—no, she needed to know—where she stood on things. Squaring her shoulders, she ran her hands down her apron. Well, if he didn’t talk to her this afternoon, she’d go talk to him.

      On her way back to her workstation, Ruth paused to observe the two brothers, who were preparing to bore bolt holes for the frame on an oak headboard. Malachi’s siblings were a good-looking pair. Like their brother, she thought to herself. It said in the book of Samuel that man looks on the outward appearance, but Gott looks at the heart. The new owner’s—Malachi’s—heart was probably good, something she had yet to discover, but his appearance was...distracting. And she didn’t need or want distractions. Not of that nature.

      Absently watching the brothers work, she abruptly straightened. They might be good-looking, but they were boring the holes on the wrong side of the bedpost. Ruth strode over.

      “They need to go on the other side.”

      The older one looked up from the drill he’d pressed against the wood and swiveled his head toward her. The younger one lifted his safety glasses to the top of his blond hair.

      “What?” Their inquiry came at her in a duet.

      “You’re boring the holes on the wrong side of the post. This headboard has beveled panels on the side facing the mattress. If you bore the holes for the frame there—” she pointed to where the drill bit rested “—the design will be facing the back of the bed, probably pressed against a wall. Benjamin did too good a job on the panels’ bevels to have them adorned with cobwebs against a wall.”

      The brothers looked at her as if she had two heads. Ruth put her hands on her hips. Didn’t they have any women with brains in Ohio? Their gazes flicked behind her. Ruth didn’t have to look to know who was approaching. СКАЧАТЬ