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“Zachary has a quick mind,” James continued. “And he’s not afraid to get his hands dirty. It’s plain to see that you’ve done a good job with him.”
“I try.” She stood there for a minute watching him, then realized it was silly for her to just be standing there. She’d passed on Sara’s message. There was no reason for her to linger. She put her hands together. “Well, I hope you like ham,” she said. “I saw one in the oven. I think Sara and Ellie made enough food for half the county.”
“Sometimes it seems like half the county’s eating with them. Sara has an endless string of pretty young women and their beaus as dinner guests. She hasn’t been in Seven Poplars that long, but she’s made a lot of friends here, and there’s no doubt she provides a much-needed service.”
“Not for me,” Mari blurted out, then felt her face flush. “I mean, I’m not here to find a husband. That’s not why I came here. We’re old friends. From Wisconsin. She’s just giving me a hand until I can get settled here in Delaware. I came for the job.”
He glanced up from his toolbox. “That’s what Zachary told me.”
“I’m not married. I’m not even Amish.” She felt as if she was babbling. “Not anymore. I was, but—” She pushed her hands deeper into the coat pockets. “Not anymore,” she repeated.
He nodded, holding her gaze. There was no judgment in his eyes.
“But you were born to Amish parents.”
“Sara told you?”
James shook his head. “A name like Mari Troyer?” He smiled that easy smile of his again. “It’s not hard to guess what your background is.”
“I left that life a decade ago.”
“It’s hard, leaving. Hard coming back, too.”
“Oh, I’m not... I didn’t come to be Amish again. It’s not who I am anymore,” she added softly, wondering what it was about James that made her feel as if she could stand there in the bitter cold and discuss things she hadn’t talked about in years.
“I think the people who raised us, our parents and grandparents and their kin, they’re always a part of us, whether we want them to be or not.”
“I don’t know about that. I guess I’m part of the English world now.”
He thought for a moment before speaking. “Has it been kind to you, that world?”
She glanced away. The way he was looking at her made her feel nervous about herself. About things she believed to be true. “Not particularly, but it suits me.” She shrugged. “And I can’t come back. It’s too late.” She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling oddly wistful. “Zachary and I are just here for a little while. I’ve done fine out there. It was just that the plant where I worked closed down. Jobs were hard to come by.”
James hefted the heavy toolbox. “I’ll be pleased to join you for supper. Mattie, she’s my sister, and the kids went to have supper with their grossmama. Mattie and her mother-in-law get on like peas in a pod. And Agnes can’t get enough of the new twins.” He took a few steps and then stopped, obviously waiting for her.
“Your sister has twins?” She caught up with him. “How old?”
“Six weeks last Sunday. William, he’s the oldest, and Timothy. They’re good babies. It’s their big brothers who cause all the fuss in our house.”
“How old are they?”
“Roman is three, and Emanuel is twenty-two months.”
She couldn’t help chuckling. “Bet they’re a handful.”
“Emanuel takes close watching. Turn your back on that one and he’ll be up the chimney or have the cow in the kitchen.” They reached the back porch and James carried his toolbox up the steps and set it against the wall of the house. “It will be fine here until morning. Saves Jericho, he’s my horse, from hauling it home and back tomorrow.” He opened the back door and held it for her.
Mari walked through the doorway into the utility room. Instantly, she was wrapped in the homey smells of food and the sounds of easy conversation and laughter. She slipped out of the coat, hung it on a peg. James did the same and began to wash his hands in a big utility sink.
Mari walked through the doorway, feeling as if she was drawn into the embrace of Sara’s warm kitchen.
“Mari, James, this is Peter Heiser.” She indicated a thin, beardless man in his early forties sitting at the table. “I know you’ll help to make him feel at home here in our community.”
“Peter,” Mari said as she slid into an empty chair between Ellie and Zachary. “Nice to meet you.”
Peter’s mouth opened, then closed; then his lips moved, but no words came out. Sweat beaded on his acne-scarred forehead as he nodded in her direction. His pale brown eyes were wide and stunned in appearance, like a frightened deer caught in the headlights of a car. His lips parted again, and something like a croak emerged. Mari expected the poor man to leap up from the table and flee the kitchen at any second.
James came to his rescue, sliding into a chair. “Good to have you with us,” he said to Peter. “Everyone. Shall we?” He closed his eyes and slightly inclined his head, a signal for silent grace.
Mari reached for her son’s hand under the table. He gripped her fingers, his small hand warm, clinging to hers. She smiled at him reassuringly, and he nodded before closing his eyes and lowering his head in imitation of the men and women around him. Mari did the same.
* * *
Mari’s head was still bowed when James opened his eyes. She looked so relaxed in prayer. A brave woman and a good mother, he thought. He didn’t care what she’d said; life couldn’t have been easy for her in the English world. It never was for those born into a different one. Not that the Amish lifestyle was a perfect one. Nothing on earth was, he supposed. But it was obvious to him that Mari’s struggles must have been more difficult than his own, and he admired her for her pluck and fortitude.
Sara’s cheerful urging for someone to pass the ham jolted James from his musing. He caught Peter’s gaze and offered him a friendly smile. Poor Peter. No wonder he needed Sara’s help to find a wife. The man was obviously terrified of women. Hands trembling, Peter almost dropped the plate of meat into Hiram’s lap. Hiram caught it in time, moving faster than James had thought him capable. Peter went white and his ears reddened. He was so flabbergasted by his near mishap that he hadn’t even taken a slice of ham for himself. Hiram, who never missed an opportunity to fill his stomach, helped himself to two pieces.
“Ach, I forgot the butter,” Ellie said. She started to rise, but Mari was quicker.
“I’ll get it.” Mari moved gracefully to the refrigerator and came back with the butter, offering it to James.
James glanced at Peter and then back at Mari and wondered if Sara had any notion of matching the two of them. He doubted it. Sara was good at reading people; Mari’s personality was too strong. Peter needed a gentle woman, maybe someone a little older than he was, someone who could overlook his social deficiencies. And Mari had made a point of saying she wasn’t here to find a husband. James knew Sara well enough, though, to suspect that didn’t mean anything to her if she set her mind to it. Sara could be a determined woman, especially when it came to the idea of there being someone for everyone. Of course Mari would have to join the church to marry an Amish man, but that wasn’t a far-fetched idea, especially since she had grown up Amish.
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