The Amish Widower's Twins and the Amish Bachelor's Choice
Page 22
“What seems to be the issue?” he asked mildly, moving into her peripheral view. She didn’t turn her head.
The older brother nodded toward her. “She says we’re putting it on backward.” His tone implied that she couldn’t possibly know what she was talking about.
Other sounds of the workshop filled the room, but their little knot was silent as Malachi’s encompassing gaze swept over the headboard. Sweat gathered between her shoulders.
“She’s right.”
“What?” the siblings echoed again.
“There’s a design on the side opposite of where you’re drilling. You’d have put it on backward. If you aren’t going to use your two sets of eyes, at least check things twice before you drill. Or cut. Or anything else.” He looked over at her. “Thanks for the catch, Ruth.”
“Even though the business won’t have my father’s name on it anymore, I still want it to be thought of as having superior craftsmanship and service.” Ruth started for the back of the shop. She stopped abruptly. Sweet words. A smile. She sighed heavily. Oh, Mammi, how wise you were. Head bowed, she strode back the way she came until brown shoes under blue cloth pants came into view. Tilting her chin up—way up, it seemed—she met his eyes. “Thank you for your support. I appreciate it. I...I didn’t mean to be...snappish.”
His gaze held hers. Ruth’s heart thudded in quiet beats until he spoke. “I want the business to be successful and well respected, too.” He paused, as if he was going to say more, but then he seemed to think better of it and just nodded.
Ruth took that as the end of the awkward situation, turned on her heel and headed back to where she would attempt to lose herself in the wood. And to try not to worry about the business. Or the pup. Or—she glanced through the glass portion of the door at the increasing volume of whipped snow outside—the weather.
Chapter Four
Malachi’s lip twitched as he watched the diminutive figure stride away. That had to have been hard for her, Miss Nothing-Good-About-Having-You-Here. But she’d done it. His eyes narrowed as he watched her expertly resume the project she’d been working on. He’d been talking with his new employees. To every query, the response was the same: “Ask Ruth. She’ll know.” Was there any part of the business the woman didn’t have her hand in? He could tell from the tone of the unprompted responses that she was respected.
He hadn’t talked with her this morning. She’d looked like a cornered badger when she’d come in late. If she thought she’d been snappish a moment ago, he was thankful he hadn’t approached her then. From his conversations with the men, he’d determined that she was always the first to arrive. So something must’ve happened this morning. She seemed more straightforward than to slacken her efforts just because ownership had changed. The recent interaction showed she cared about the future of the business. The question remained, would she have a future in it?
“Who’s she?”
Malachi turned to see his twenty-one-year-old brother watching Ruth as she assembled what appeared to be a small rolltop desk at the back of the workroom.
“The previous owner’s daughter.”
Samuel rolled his eyes. “Oh, no. Not one of those again.”
Malachi allowed a small smile in commiseration of the sentiment. “Ja.”
“She going to haunt your steps like the other one did?”
His eighteen-year-old brother, Gideon, joined the observation of the auburn-haired woman, who fortunately wasn’t aware of the scrutiny. If she glanced up, the “cornered badger” look would return, complete with hisses and snarls, Malachi thought as his smile progressed to a one-sided grin. Actually, Malachi mused, the analogy fitted pretty well. Badgers were small in stature, protective, blunt and aggressive. Like someone he’d recently met.
“She’s not as pretty as Leah.”
Malachi’s smile evaporated at Gideon’s comment. Yes, with her blond hair and thick-lashed eyes, the daughter of his boss in Ohio had been very attractive. But for some reason, the comparison to Ruth seemed unfair.
“This one works here. It couldn’t be much worse.”
“Samuel, what could’ve been worse is if she hadn’t caught your mistake and we created an error for a customer on our first day on the job. Or had to waste labor and materials to do it over.” The younger men’s eyes dropped before their brother’s steady gaze.
“Ja. You’re right about that.”
“Is the quality of work something I need to be concerned about going forward?”
“Nee. If only to make sure that she doesn’t catch us at it again.” Samuel nodded toward the back of the room.
“Gut.” Malachi dropped a hand on each brother’s shoulder. He was surprised at how muscular those shoulders had become as he gave them a brief, encouraging squeeze. “I’m glad you’re with me on this adventure. It would’ve been harder to leave Ohio without you.”
“You did the right thing.” Gideon earned another squeeze with his support.
“Let’s hope so.” Malachi patted their backs before dropping his hands. “Let’s get some work done today. Show that the Schrock brothers know their way around building furniture.”
Work was accomplished, but it tapered off in efficiency as the intensity of the weather picked up. Malachi watched his employees repeatedly glance up at the encroaching darkness that dimmed the skylights, the primary source of light for the business. Or go to the window and look outside at the growing storm, usually with hands on their hips and a worried expression on their faces. All except his single female employee. She stayed at her task until he could determine the project was indeed a petite rolltop desk. With the ominous change in the weather, no one entered the showroom to distract her from the work.
It was past midafternoon when Malachi called to get their attention. He waited until the machines had been turned off and the hums and squeals of the equipment died down so they could hear him.
“We want to get the work done on time for our customers. In order to do that, we need to ensure that you are safe and sound to come in and do it. We have storms in Ohio, and I’ve heard that the Wisconsin ones can be quite fierce, as well. We’re closing up early today so you can get home and check on your families and livestock before the storm gets worse.”
Although nothing was said, Malachi could tell by the relaxation in the tense faces watching him that his new employees appreciated the early release. He wanted his workforce safe. He was also striving to establish trust as their leader. Working hard in the long run did not always mean working all the time.
The men didn’t need further instructions. Workstations were quickly cleaned up and equipment and materials put away for the day. Malachi saw his brothers by the coatrack, outer gear on and obviously ready to go. He frowned. There was some work in the office he wanted to finish before he left today. Malachi walked toward them, intending to instruct them to wait a bit before they hitched up the buggy. One of his new employees, Jacob, a beardless young man with red hair, was visiting with them as he put on his coat and hat.
Practiced at reading Malachi’s expressions, Samuel grimaced when he saw his brother’s face. “Ach, you’re not ready to go yet. How long must we stay?”
Before Malachi could open his mouth, Jacob spoke. “I live just a mile up the road from the old Yoder place. The house with the corncrib by the end of the lane. You two could come home with me and he could pick you up on the way by.”
Obviously pleased with the offer from Jacob, whose age appeared to fall between Malachi’s and his brothers’, Samuel and Gideon looked hopefully at Malachi. It seemed a reasonable solution and one where they would get to know their neighbors better. Malachi nodded. “I’ll see you there later.”
The young men eagerly headed for the door and pulled it open. They slapped a hand to their heads as the vicious wind threatened to blow their black hats off. Gideon, the last one through, struggled to pull the
door shut behind him. It finally closed with a hard click.
Malachi turned to see Ruth, whose workstation was in direct line of the gust, looking at the closed door with wide eyes and arms hugging her shoulders. They were the only ones left in the room. Tools and delicate pieces of wood were neatly arranged about her. She’d still been working.
“Time to go.” Malachi tipped his head toward the door that rattled against the gusting wind.
She turned back to her bench. “I was late getting here. I need to put my time in.”
Stubborn woman. Malachi strode over to the partially assembled desk. “Nee, not today. I won’t have it said that I let you freeze in a ditch on your way home from work.” Green eyes turned to him and spoke clearly that he did not let her do anything. Fortunately, she was prudent enough not to voice the words. He held her gaze. Really, the woman didn’t need any aid in freezing. The outdoor weather would probably be ambient temperature for her.
Finally, she nodded and efficiently began putting away her work. Picking up a few pieces of oak to hand to her, Malachi ran his fingers over the smooth finish. The surface felt like silk under his experienced fingertips. He ran his eyes over the intricate joints in the desk. It was amazing craftsmanship.
“Beautiful work.” He handed her the wood.
Taking it apprehensively, she flicked a look up at his face, judging his sincerity. “Denki.” The rest of the pieces were gathered up quickly, as if to indicate she didn’t need his help.
Malachi raised his eyebrows. Apparently it had been a temporary truce. The badger had returned. He wove his way through the workshop, now empty and quiet, to the showroom door. At the door, he looked back at Ruth. Once he was out of her orbit, her efforts had slowed and she appeared to be working on the desk again. Malachi frowned and jerked the door open with more force than necessary. Stubborn woman, indeed.
Deciding the tasks he’d hoped to finish could wait for another day, Malachi grabbed his coat and hat from the office and secured the front door of the store. Ruth looked up as he reentered the workroom. She scowled and had the rest of her work put away by the time he reached her.
Malachi waited while she tugged on her cape and tied her bonnet. He was going to make sure she went out the door and headed home. He frowned at the thinness of her cape as he followed her black-clad figure to the door. “I’ll help you harness your horse.”
“I can do it myself. Besides, I have to go to the store first.”
Malachi stopped in his tracks. “What? Conditions are dangerous out there. You need to get home.” The exasperation that colored his tone was a stranger to him. It’d never been there before. “Whatever it is will wait.”
“No, it won’t. I have responsibilities.”
“So do I. I’m responsible for making sure you get home safely.” He was tired of talking to the back of her black bonnet. Fortunately—or unfortunately—she whipped around and he found himself facing blazing green eyes and what looked like a few freckles on the cheeks under the encompassing brim. A dainty chin tipped up toward him above the big black bow.
“No. You are not. I’ve been taking care of myself for some time now. I don’t need you to take care of me on your first day here. I’m going to Piggly Wiggly before I head home.” Turning to jerk open the door, she almost tumbled into the wall when the force of the wind hit the portal. Recovering quickly, she bent her slight frame against the gusts and headed down the street to where Malachi had learned the grocery store was located. Her figure soon disappeared in the whipping snow. Shaking his head, Malachi locked the door and headed for the shed. Stubborn woman, he muttered to himself again. Even a badger was wise enough to get out of a snowstorm.
* * *
Ruth didn’t know what made her cheeks more red, the blasts of wind that threatened to steal her breath or embarrassment and self-disgust at her behavior. Another proverb came to mind as she ducked her head against the blowing snow. It is better to give others a piece of your heart than a piece of your mind. She felt the staccato beat of snow pelting the top of her bonnet, like it was trying to tap the reminder into her head. Well, he had enough pieces of her mind to put together a puzzle by now. A piece of her heart? That was an amusing thought, even beyond the fact that he’d surely been baptized by now, and was therefore remaining Amish. And she wouldn’t be. Therefore, not even a splinter of her heart would be allowed to consider his direction.
Besides, there wasn’t room in her heart and mind for anything right now beyond fretting over the safety and security of the puppy, something she’d been doing all day. Was she responsible enough in her care for him? Was he smart enough to stay out of the weather? Unlike his new owner?
That brought her back to the abrupt discussion at the workshop. As she and the new owner were leaving, she’d had the discomfiting realization that not only would she not be the one to open the shop every day, something she’d done for years, she’d also no longer be the one to close it up at the day’s end. So she’d latched onto the one thing she knew she could handle in accountability, her own care. After the way she’d lashed out at his offer, worrying about herself might be the only thing she had left to do. She might not have to worry about a job anymore, and she wasn’t ready to leave just yet. Dear Lord, please help me keep my mouth shut.
Exiting Piggly Wiggly a short time later, she was almost blown back into the sliding doors. Ruth looked beyond the grocery store’s parking lot to where the road was no longer visible and sent up another fervent prayer. Please, Lord, I hope it is Your will that Bess and I get safely home to the puppy. Please don’t let my stubbornness affect the two animals in my care.
The relief from the blocked wind when Ruth entered the shed housing the horses was indescribable. So was her surprise at seeing Bess almost harnessed. Ruth dropped her bags by the wheel of her buggy and raced over to help. Looking up at her approach, Malachi seemed to take in the snow-crusted cape and bonnet.
“Did you get your important shopping done?” There was a curtness in his voice she hadn’t heard before. Ruth winced, knowing she deserved it.
“Ja,” she said breathlessly, reaching under Bess to hand him the girth. Her chilled hand touched his and she jerked it back. He paused momentarily, as well. Bess stomped her foot, encouraging them to get on with it. Ruth hurriedly renewed her efforts, careful to keep her hands on her side of the mare. She didn’t want to explore the feeling that’d shot up her arm at the touch of his cool fingers.
Lifting up the shafts of the buggy, she guided Bess between them. Malachi was doing the same to a bay gelding. Faster than her at connecting the straps and buckles that safely secured the horse to the buggy, he came around to her side to help her finish. When he saw she was almost ready, he picked up her dropped bags and moved to set them in the buggy, glancing in the open sacks as he did so.
“You went out in a blizzard to get a dog toy?”
Ruth hunched a shoulder. “I needed it.” She didn’t look at him as she scrambled into the buggy. But she caught a glimpse of his face before she secured the door. He was not happy.
She gently slapped the reins against Bess’s back. The mare needed no further encouragement to exit the shed. Ducking her head against the blowing snow, she started a brisk trot toward home.
No nudging required for the old girl tonight. Ruth tucked the blanket about her on the seat, glad once again that she’d remembered to throw it into the buggy this morning. The mare wanted to get home to a warm barn and hay. Ruth wanted to get home to make sure Rascal was warm and safe. Getting out of the elements herself seemed like a pretty good idea, as well.
Within moments, the brown back trotting in front of the buggy was splattered with white. Ruth stared apprehensively at the road in the rapidly dimming light of the late afternoon. It was hard to believe that she’d driven in with brown and a bit of green fringing the roadside. Now she was glad to even see the sides of the country road that they’d just t
urned onto. Hopefully Bess’s judgment was better than her own at knowing where the road ended and the ditch began.
Ruth was thankful she wasn’t attempting this in the dark. She supposed she had Malachi to thank for that. And for harnessing Bess so she could head home sooner. Ruth saw motion in the small rearview mirror that jutted out from the buggy’s side. A bay and buggy had just turned down her road. Recognizing the rig as the one ready in the shed before she’d left, Ruth frowned. He should’ve gone straight at the intersection. Why was Malachi following her home? It would take him at least five miles out of the way on a horrible night.
As the temperature dropped, the light dimmed and the howling wind rose further, Ruth became grateful for the companionship on the road. It was the only company she encountered on the long, cold trip. When the buggy lurched as Bess cut the corner short into the lane, Ruth was never more glad to see the building shapes that identified her farmstead in the swirling snow. She darted a look at the chicken coop as Bess pulled hard toward the big barn doors.
Ruth would’ve gasped when she partially rolled up the buggy door to slip out if the wind had allowed her enough air to do so. The driving snow stung her cheeks and tried to tug her bonnet from her head. To keep from tumbling ahead of its force, Ruth kept hold of the buggy and then of Bess as she worked her way to the doors that shook ominously in their frames.
Bracing herself for the jerk when she released the latch and the doors suddenly became kites, she almost fell in surprise when two arms reached in front of her to pull the lever back and opened the doors in a controlled, albeit jolting, manner. Securing her attention, Malachi waved her into his own buggy. Bess needed no further instruction, driver or no. As soon as the opening was wide enough, she swept inside. Ruth hustled into Malachi’s buggy. Driving the gelding into the big barn as well, she was instantly enveloped in the smell of hay and livestock. Malachi wrestled the doors shut behind them.
The sudden break from the force of the driving snow was eerie, as was the wail of the wind as it attacked the barn’s walls. Ruth wobbled her way down the buggy steps, more shaken from the ride than she cared to admit.