A Husband For Mari (The Amish Matchmaker 2) (7 page)

“But lonely,” he said, seeing it in her face. “I know. I found that out for myself. I left Seven Poplars when I was twenty.”

“You did?” She looked up at him with surprise. “That’s hard to believe. You seem so...so Amish.”

He had to laugh at that.

“You know what I mean.” She smiled and dropped to sit on the edge of a chair, facing him. “You seem so content. So happy with your life.”

“I am now.” He held her gaze, smiling. “I can’t believe Zachary didn’t tell you I was English for a while.”

“Zachary knows?” Again he could tell she was surprised. “He never said a word, that little rascal. How long were you gone?”

“About six years.”

She was quiet for a moment and then she looked at him. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

She met his gaze. “What made you come back?”

“Realizing this is where I belong. It’s a good life for some out there. But it wasn’t for me. I learned a lot out there about people, about book stuff we don’t teach in our schools, but I think that the most important thing I learned was that I belong here. Seven Poplars is my home.”

“How long have you been back?” she asked. She held up a hand. “Sorry. I don’t mean to pry.”

“It’s not prying. It’s common knowledge in Seven Poplars. I’ve been back two years.”

“And you’ve joined the church?”

He nodded. “
Ya.
First thing I did when I moved home. And it’s brought me peace. Peace I never knew before.”

“I’m glad for you,” she answered, and he could tell she was being sincere. “But not everyone is meant for the life apart from the world like this.”

“That’s true,” he agreed.

She met his gaze again, and he wanted to ask her how sure she was that she was one of those people, but the same feeling that he had a few minutes earlier telling him to press on told him to let it go. So he did. Instead, he reached for Roman, who was crawling past him with the toy rabbit. “There you are!” he cried, lifting the boy into his lap and tickling him.

“Try this one on him,” Mari said, rising off the chair. She held up a small coat with neat stitching and a mended tear on the right cuff.

“I don’t know about the mend,” James said and then smiled. “Maybe Mattie was right. Maybe this job is too big for me.”

“Absolutely not.” Mari put the coat aside. “I think the ones in the baby room are too small for him, but...” She picked up a garment that had fallen between the chairs. “Let’s try this.”

To James’s relief, the coat she handed him was only slightly big. “That should do it,” he said, slipping it over his nephew’s shoulders. The coat was sewn with stitches almost too small to see. The lining was quilted, and there were elastic cuffs inside the sleeves that would keep the winter wind from blowing up a boy’s arms. Roman wiggled and shifted his feet, wanting to get back to his game with the rabbit, but Mari insisted on fastening all the snaps to make certain none were missing or broken.

“Nice fit” came a woman’s voice from the doorway. “Be sure you grab one of those knit caps on the windowsill.”

James looked over to see several small hats lying there. “Thank you, Hannah. I think we’ve found a coat that Mattie will like.”

“And there’s a little room for him to grow,” Mari pointed out.

“He does that,” James said. “I’ve tried putting him under the kitchen table and telling him not to, but every time I turn my back on Roman, he shoots up another inch or two.”

The boy giggled.

“The fit looks perfect to me,” Hannah said. “Find one to fit any better and a boy will outgrow it before he gets through the kitchen doorway.” She shifted a fat-cheeked baby from one hip to the other. “I think Roman is our last customer.” She glanced at the remaining coats. “At least we didn’t come up short like last year. Ellie can take these spares to the school to see if anyone there can use one.”

James helped Roman out of the coat, and as he did, he noticed the outline of a bee stitched into the inside at the back of the collar. “Look, Roman,” he said to the boy. “Your new coat has a bee in it.”

Roman laughed and scrambled to retrieve the toy rabbit.

“Johanna’s work,” Hannah explained. “She raises bees, and she sews a bee into her boys’ coats. Our Johanna is an accomplished seamstress. Have you met her yet?” she asked Mari. Mari shook her head. “Well, you will because she and the children are coming for supper. Rebecca and Anna tell me that you’re staying to eat with us, too. I’m so pleased to have you.”

“That’s not necessary,” Mari replied. “You have a houseful already.”

“
Ach
, the more at my table the happier my husband will be. He had no children of his own until he married me and inherited my lot. Now to see him, you’d think he fathered them all. And he spoils the grandchildren rotten.”

“And you’d have to be foolish to turn down Hannah’s invitation,” James warned. “Everyone knows what a fine cook she is.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, James Hostetler,” Hannah teased.

The baby popped a thumb into its mouth. James wasn’t sure if it was a boy or a girl. “Not even an invitation to supper?” he said to Hannah.

She chuckled. “I was going to ask you anyway. Albert wants to ask your advice about a new shelter for the alpacas. My husband is mad for his alpacas,” she explained to Mari. “We sell the fleece, and some girls in the neighborhood are learning to spin and weave the wool into yarn.”

“I’ve heard that alpaca fleece brings a good price,” Mari said. “Some of the expensive shops in Wisconsin sell alpaca hats and sweaters.”

“Ya,”
Hannah agreed. “The fleece more than pays for the keep of the alpacas.”

“Hannah will tell you that alpacas are Albert’s hobby,” James said, “but listen to her. She is fond of them, as well.”

“I am,” Hannah agreed. “Women who become skilled spinners and weavers can bring in extra money without leaving their homes. It helps our families and our community.” She smiled at Mari. “Johanna teaches classes in her home one evening a week if you’re interested in learning. Our Grace is picking up the skill quickly. I think you would like Grace. Her son, ’Kota, and your boy seem to have hit it off.”

“Oh, my Zachary.” Mari flushed. “I found his hoodie here in the pile of coats. I’m afraid he took one of the denim ones. We didn’t bring a coat to contribute, so I can’t—”

“Of course you can,” Hannah scoffed, interrupting her. “What mother can’t use another coat for her child? Look at what we have left. You’re doing us a favor if you let Zachary keep it.”

Mari appeared hesitant. “That’s kind of you, but I wouldn’t feel right about it.”

“Why not?” Hannah asked. “You can always use it for him to play in. Zachary must have wanted to wear it or he wouldn’t have traded it for his own.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Mari agreed reluctantly.

“You can ask him at supper,” Hannah said with a smile. “I promise you he’ll be on time for that. Because if there’s one thing boys like more than playing, it’s eating. ’Kota’s staying to eat with us, as well as Johanna’s J.J. and Jonah. They’re close in age to your Zachary.” She turned to go. “He’ll fit in here like a pea in a pod.”

Chapter Six

T
he family supper was at six and lasted until nearly eight o’clock. Mari enjoyed the meal, and—to her surprise—she had felt at ease with the Yoder family. She fit in as easily as, to borrow Hannah’s expression, a pea in a pod. The huge kitchen had been warm and inviting; the food had been delicious. And she’d eaten far too much. What she didn’t understand was how or why, exactly, she’d ended up agreeing to ride home to Sara’s with James in his buggy.

“
Ach
, not to worry,” Hannah had said, patting her on the forearm as they made their way to the utility room where everyone had left their coats and boots. “Everything is proper. No one will think anything of it. Your son is with you. And Johanna’s J.J. and Jonah. James is dropping them off with their father. Anyway, James insisted he drive you. It’s too cold out for you and Zachary to walk.”

Anna pushed a wicker basket of leftovers into Mari’s hand. “
Schnitz und knepp.
Mam
’s dried-apple dumplings
.
Sara’s favorite. And there’s a tub of German potato salad and some roast duck with stuffing. For the Sabbath.” Anna’s round face creased with good humor. “We don’t cook on Sundays, and I know Sara always has company stopping in after church.”

“Thank you so much,” Mari said. She supposed it was a good thing she wasn’t walking home. It was at least half a mile to Sara’s, and both houses had long driveways.

“Sundays are a day of rest for the women,
ya
? It must have been a woman long ago who whispered that rule in her husband’s ear. No work on the Sabbath.” Anna chuckled as she scooped up an adorable little red-haired girl and wiped jam off her chin and planted a kiss on the child’s rosy cheek. “My Rose,” she said. Rose giggled and squirmed. “This one’s ready for bedtime.”

“How many children do you have?” Mari asked.

“There is Rose and Baby Naomi, little Mae and our Lori Ann. Then the boys Peter and Rudy. They’re twins and rascals both. My dear Samuel brought me five of them from his first marriage, but I never remember which five they are.” She leaned close and hugged Mari. “I’m so glad you stayed for supper, and so happy that you’re staying with Cousin Sara. We all adore her, and we can see why she speaks of you so highly.”

Somehow, amid the laughter and embraces Mari said her goodbyes, found her own coat and made her way to the kitchen door, where James and Zachary, now wearing identical blue denim coats, were standing amid a gaggle of boys.

Mari knew ’Kota and remembered that two of the boys belonged to Johanna, but she was at a loss as to who the others were. Zachary, however, seemed to know them all, and there was a great deal of teasing, pushing and shouted plans for some future enterprise as her son made his way out onto the back porch.

From the porch, Mari stepped outside into a brisk and bitter night. Since there were no artificial lights on the house or barn and there was no moon, the flashing battery lights on the buggy seemed startlingly bright. There was no heat inside the vehicle, but Mari knew the exterior would cut the wind. It had been a long time since she’d ridden in a buggy, and she wasn’t sure whether it would bring back welcome or unwelcome memories from her childhood.

James walked around to the back and opened the door for the boys. ’Kota, J.J., Jonas and Zachary all piled in to sit on the facing backseats. James untied his horse from the hitching rail, wrapped the lines around a knob on the dash and followed Mari around to the far side of the buggy.

Mari quickened her step. The ground was frozen under her feet, and the cold seemed to leach up through the soles of her sneakers. She took hold of the buggy and started to climb up into the front seat, but she was in too much of a hurry. Her foot missed the metal bar that served as a step. She slipped and fell back, stumbling as she attempted to keep her balance.

James’s strong hands closed around her waist and steadied her. “Sorry,” he said. “I should have helped you up.”

She looked over her shoulder at him, and he held her gaze for a split second. She remembered what Rebecca had said earlier in the day about him being interested
in her. Surely Rebecca was mistaken.

“No, it was my fault,” she said. His touch made her feel more off balance than her awkward attempt to climb into the buggy. Her hand tightened on the grab bar, and he boosted her up. She scrambled up into the seat. “Got it,” she said. “Thanks.”

He circled the front of the horse and buggy and climbed into the driver’s seat. “Night!” he called to Albert and Hannah and the boys who were watching from the porch.

“This is cool,” Zachary said from the darkness in the back of the buggy. One of the other kids said something in
Deitsch
, and they all giggled, including her son. Mari wondered if he’d understood what had been said or if he was just pretending he did.

A whip stood by James’s left hand, but he never touched it. He made a low clicking sound, and the horse started off, first at a walk and then at a trot. The wheels made a familiar sound on the frozen ground, and the leather creaked. Mari closed her eyes and her mind returned to earlier times. Luckily, it was only good memories that came to her: memories of being cozy in the back of the family buggy with her cousins, memories of a feeling of belonging and safety.

They were halfway down the lane when James spoke. “Here. Put this over your lap. You boys warm enough back there?” he asked as he passed her a heavy woolen blanket. “Blankets under the seat.”

“Wait!” Mari said, suddenly remembering how many boys had climbed into the back. “Did you forget Roman?”

James laughed. “
Ne
, Grace drove him home earlier. Mattie likes to have the boys in bed early. Grace had stopped to see if ’Kota was behaving himself. She was on the way to help her husband, John, with a late check on a horse. She’s going to pick her boy up from Johanna’s when they’re finished.”

Mari thought about how many times she’d struggled to find good child care for Zachary and the jobs and overtime she’d had to refuse because there was no one. “Must be nice to have so many willing babysitters,” she said wistfully.

“Isn’t that what family and friends are for?”

She glanced at James as they pulled out onto the road, surprised by how comfortable she felt with him. How at ease she’d felt all day, really. She was glad she’d come today.

“Glad you came today,” James said.

She laughed out loud at the fact that the both of them had thought the same thing at the same time.

“What?” he asked, looking at her. “What’s so funny?”

She shook her head and glanced away, feeling a blush creep across her cheeks. The longer she knew him, the more handsome he seemed to get. “It’s nothing.”

He smiled down at her. “I was just saying, I’m glad you came and I’m also glad you agreed to ride home with me, too. Otherwise, I imagine Hannah would have put some eligible unmarried girl in my buggy seat.”

She lifted her brows. “Hannah’s trying to fix you up? I thought Sara was the matchmaker in Seven Poplars.”

“I think every woman over the age of sixteen sees herself as a bit of a matchmaker,” he joked. “Half the women in my church are scheming to match me up with one of their sisters or daughters or cousins. Mattie won’t stop bringing up the subject of my marriage to a nice girl. She’s already picked out the bride.”

Mari felt a sudden sense of disappointment and she didn’t know why. “Someone in Seven Poplars?”

“
Ya.
And there’s nothing wrong with the girl. I just don’t know if she’s the right one, and I refuse to let Mattie push me into courting someone.” He shrugged. “I know it’s not what’s expected, but...” He sounded sheepish. “This probably sounds silly, but I’m looking for love, Mari. Real love.”

Mari steadied herself as the buggy rolled over a pothole, trying to keep from brushing up against him. “Have I met this girl your sister likes for you?”

“She was at Sara’s shindig last night. Lilly Hershberger. Curly blond hair. Dimples. Pretty girl. Smart. She’ll make someone a good wife.”

Noisy chatter came from the back of the buggy. The boys were obviously occupied with their own concerns, and Mari felt free to talk without fear of being overheard. “How does Lilly feel about you?”

James considered. “She’s nice enough to me, but then Lilly’s nice to everyone. My sister keeps mentioning Jane Stutzman to throw me off, but I know it’s Lilly she wants me to walk out with.”

He was talking to Mari as if she were a good friend. A confidant. Rebecca had obviously been mistaken when she said he’d been interested in her. James obviously saw her as a friend he could talk to. Why else would he bring up courting another girl? “So what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know what to do. Do I give in to my sister? Maybe I should ask to take Lilly home from the next get-together. That’s the way it usually starts here,” he explained. “I ask one of her cousins or her friends if she’d be willing to ride home with me. They ask and then let me know. That way no one is embarrassed if she’s not willing. If she is, I don’t really have to say anything to her. It’s just understood. We socialize with the rest of the group, and then when it’s over, I ask her if she’s ready to leave.”

“So you don’t take her to the frolic, like the English would. You just drive her home?”

“Exactly.”

“And do you need a chaperone or do you have an open buggy? Most of the young men back in Wisconsin drove a courting buggy for their dates. In a closed buggy, like this, they’d have to have someone with them.”

James shook his head as he turned the horse into a driveway on the left side of the road. “An open buggy or a chaperone isn’t necessary, not if I’m just driving a girl home. If we were gone all day or went to Lancaster, maybe. But Bishop Atlee is reasonable.”

“I guess our church was stricter,” Mari said, liking the idea that she could bring up the life she used to have among the Amish and not feel uncomfortable. In the English world, she’d never talked about her life among the Amish.

She glanced out over the ears of James’s horse; she could see the amber glow of lights, and as the horse trotted up the lane, the dim outline of Johanna’s farmhouse became visible. There were no curtains at the windows, and the shades were still up. The house looked warm and inviting. James called over his shoulder, “Here we are, boys. And there’s your
dat
at the door.”

Home
, thought Mari. As she watched the boys clamber out of the back of the buggy, she couldn’t helping wishing the house was hers and Zachary’s, and that she was coming home. The man in the doorway was a shadow, but he wasn’t the attraction. And for an instant she was seized by the old desire to belong somewhere.

She glanced at James and felt a heaviness in her chest that she couldn’t identify. A longing. She glanced back at the house.

Coming home.
It was a dream that she cherished, a dream she didn’t know would ever come true.

* * *

“Are you sure you won’t come with us?” Ellie asked Mari the next morning. She and Sara were dressed for church, and Hiram had brought the buggy around to drive them all to Johanna and Roland’s place. “You know that everyone would be happy to have you.”

Mari nibbled on her lower lip in indecision. All night she’d wrestled with the dilemma of what to do about church. Sara and Ellie wanted her to go. And James had asked her to go, too. In their letters back and forth Sara had mentioned church, and relayed Bishop Atlee’s invitation to attend, but Mari hadn’t committed because she honestly hadn’t known how she felt about it. Now that she was here, a part of her wanted to go, but part of her was afraid. What if she liked it? She’d told Zachary they would be in Seven Poplars until they got their feet back under them. They’d never really discussed staying. She hadn’t even considered it... Had she?

She hesitated and then said to Sara, “I don’t know. I’m not sure Zachary would want to—”

“I’ll go!” Zachary declared excitedly. He was standing at the kitchen sink putting silverware in a pan of soapy water to be washed come Monday. When he turned so quickly to them, he sprayed little drops of water.

“You’ll go to church?” Mari asked in surprise.

“J.J. asked me to come. He said we just have to be quiet for a little while. He said it’s fun and his aunt Anna is bringing pies.” He glanced at Sara. “If Mom doesn’t want to come, can I go with you, Sara?”

Sara met Mari’s gaze. “I don’t mean to put you on the spot. We all just think...you’d enjoy the experience.”

Mari knew she shouldn’t make the decision based on wanting to please her friends, or worse, to please James. Because at some point in the middle of the night, she realized she
did
want to please him. And that was dangerous. There couldn’t be anything between her and James, and she needed to remember that. He was Amish and she wasn’t, and even if that wasn’t so, James didn’t like her that way.

“Please, Mom? ’Kota won’t be there. He goes to another church, but all the other guys will be there. J.J. says it’s fun.”

“Just to visit,” Sara said softly. “To see how you feel about it.”

“
Ya
, just come as a visitor,” Ellie suggested as she tied her black bonnet over her
kapp
.

Mari watched Zachary dry his hands on a kitchen towel. “I can be ready in a minute, Mom. I promise I’ll be good. Please?”

Mari smiled. How could she say no to her son when he was asking to go to church? And what harm would it do? It wasn’t as if she had to decide on any lasting life changes today; like Sara said, she could go just to see how she felt about it.

So Mari went. And she sat on a bench with the other women, dressed in her long, navy blue skirt and scarf over her head, and she enjoyed the service far more than she anticipated.

When the final sermon and closing prayers of the service were finished, the younger men moved the benches and set up the tables for the communal meal. The women were equally busy removing food from baskets and containers and serving. As no work was done on the Sabbath, most of the meal was cold, but thanks to Johanna’s advance planning, there were kettles of thick broth and vegetable soup simmering on the stoves. As Johanna and Roland’s house was not a large one, the meal was served buffet-style, with tables reserved for the oldest and youngest members of the flock, while others stood to eat or balanced plates on their laps where they sat on the remaining chairs and benches.