by Jo Ann Brown
The day had dawned crisp and clear, as if to atone for yesterday’s storm. The wind had finally stopped in the early hours, with four inches of snow covering the ground in a pristine blanket. Glad to discover the wind had kept the roads mostly clear and the drifts confined to the ditch, Ruth had no problem driving a grouchy Bess over them when she’d started for town earlier than normal.
She darted a look around the workroom as she entered. Her shoulders relaxed under her cape when she noted Malachi’s two brothers, Samuel and Gideon, already at work. They looked up as she came in. She nodded in their direction, slipped off her bonnet and cape and headed to her station.
A few moments later the door to the store opened and Malachi came through. As she glanced up from assembling the pieces of the rolltop desk to meet his eyes, her cheeks heated. Quickly nodding in acknowledgment, she dropped her gaze back to the oak pieces in her hands. It took a moment before she recalled which piece went where.
It was easy to get into the groove of the assembly, though, when he ignored her for the rest of the day. They were quite busy for a day after a snowstorm, and the light and buzzer on top of the workshop door kept notifying her that potential customers had come into the showroom. But it didn’t take long for Ruth to discover that not all shoppers were looking for furniture.
It being a relatively small district, the addition of three single men would prompt the young single women to come out, snow or no snow. Ruth thought initially that the first two women had actually come in to shop. They’d wandered among the furniture, touching a piece here, a piece there. Ruth had stood, smiling patiently by the counter, ready to answer any questions they might have or run up a sale on the manual addition machine that served as a cash register.
Some hours later, her smile was less patient. Ruth had learned by the end of the morning that any questions the day’s customers had were all related to the Schrock brothers. The young ladies would meander around the furniture, but their eyes always drifted to the door to the workroom, obviously hoping that it would open and they could see through it or, better yet, someone would actually come through.
It made Ruth feel old. Most of the girls were younger than her, in their teens as opposed to her ripe old age of twenty-two. She knew who they were, but whereas their older, mostly married, sisters might be friends, these young ladies were more acquaintances. It also made her rather sheepish about her reaction to her time with Malachi last night. Was she as obvious in her interest as these girls were? She certainly hoped not. And her reaction hadn’t been romantic. It had been more of a person finally having company in the house after an extended period by herself. That was all.
Ruth rolled her eyes when she left the workroom and went into the shop for the fifth time that morning and found Lydia Troyer, Jacob’s sister, accompanied by another young woman. Both watching the door to the workroom with eager eyes. She almost smiled at their disappointed faces when she stepped through.
Although tempted to leave them alone in the shop to twitter away among the furniture, she took up her post by the counter. Any counter work she’d needed to do had long since been done that morning. There was nothing at risk in the store. Even though the young ladies were certainly strong and capable enough to haul out anything should they actually make a purchase—a doubtful prospect—they’d ask for help. And at least four, possibly five, single men in the back would be willing to lend it.
Ruth vowed that even if they purchased the massive oak rolltop desk in the corner, she’d maneuver it out the door by herself. Somehow.
At least Lydia came straight to the point. She had an edge in the apparent race. “Is Jacob here?” She smiled at her companion. “My mother wanted me to give him a message.”
Jacob had been getting his hat and coat from the rack when she’d headed to the front to respond to the summons from the shop. “I think he was just going out the door to lunch.” Ruth would have opened the door to the workroom to check, but it was apparent that was what they wanted her to do. Folding her arms, she resolutely kept her back to the closed door.
The young ladies obviously found this welcome news. There was only one café in town, so Jacob wouldn’t be hard to find. And presumably, he hadn’t gone to lunch alone. “We’ll just catch up with him at the restaurant,” chirped Lydia, and they scooted to the exit. “All three brothers were at my house last night,” Ruth heard her say before they went out the door. “The two younger ones had supper with us and Malachi...” Whatever Malachi had done or not done was lost to the closing of the door.
Ruth hoped it hadn’t been “and Malachi was frozen solid after following that stubborn woman home.” Cringing, she equally hoped it hadn’t been “and Malachi, once he got there, determined they should all stay the night,” which would have been possible in the full Troyer household, but not at Ruth’s, a single woman’s home. Ruth sighed. Either way, it was none of her business. Especially as Malachi himself hadn’t even seen fit to speak with her this morning.
She didn’t put up the sign that she was out to lunch. Having gotten up quite early this morning—worrying through the night did that to a person—she’d packed a sandwich. As she stepped back into the workroom, her breath caught when she saw Malachi exiting the back door, also presumably to go eat. He stopped when he noticed her and their eyes held for a few heartbeats.
“I’ll stay if you want me to.” He stepped back into the shop and pulled the door shut behind him.
Ruth drew a shaky breath as she made shooing motions. “Go ahead. I’ll be fine watching the shop. I brought my lunch. Go see how Miller’s Creek survived the first snow of the season.”
He hesitated, but nodded and left.
Ruth returned to the store, and through the large front windows watched him walk down the street toward the restaurant. She saw Lydia and her friend turn, smiles on their pretty faces, and wait for Malachi to join them in front of the café. Malachi opened the door for the women and the trio walked in together. Surprised at the hollowness that settled in her stomach at the sight—an emptiness not of hunger, but of an unexpected longing to join them—Ruth shook her head. She’d never longed for anything but taking effective care of the business before.
Her steps were slow when she entered the workroom and crossed to where her cape hung. Pulling a parcel out of one of its pockets, she eyed the ham sandwich ruefully. She unwrapped it and took a disinterested bite. She suspected it would have tasted a lot better last night, sitting on a cold buggy bench under a quilt in a snowstorm. With a certain somebody beside her.
* * *
The animated chatter of the younger people drifted over Malachi at lunch. He limited his contributions to a few nods here and there, although Jacob’s sister, seated next to him, tried numerous times to bring him into the conversation. He just wanted to finish eating and get back to work. When he’d seen Ruth enter the workroom before he’d left, he’d been surprised by the hope that had risen that she’d ask him to stay. Instead he’d been shooed away like a fly at a picnic.
The woman was confusing. While his eyes had been peeled on the road last night, he’d thought about her—her warm brick at his feet and her quilt on his lap, even her sandwich in his stomach—throughout the journey to the Troyers’.
Samuel and Gideon hadn’t said anything, but he could tell they’d been worried about his late arrival and were glad to see him. The Troyers had offered the Schrocks a place to sleep for the night, but as he’d come that far and their new farmstead was only a mile away, his brothers had quickly preceded him out the door and into the buggy. There had been no conversation that last mile. They’d anxiously watched for their lane in the blowing snow, trying to keep their teeth from chattering. His brothers didn’t ask where the quilt had come from; they’d just squeezed into the front bench under it and pressed their feet close to the diminishing heat of the brick.
The tired gelding had earned the good rubbing and extra measure of grain
provided him when they finally got into the big barn. Kip had definitely proven himself to be a keeper.
His brothers had been much more loquacious on the way in to work today. Enjoying the crisp clearness of the early morning and the snow-covered but travelable surroundings, Malachi had listened with half an ear as they discussed the rigs they wanted to buy. They’d sold their previous ones in Ohio.
“Kip is a good horse for you, Malachi, but I want something fast. And flashy. Jacob’s brother knows someone who buys horses that don’t make it on the track in Milwaukee, if you tell him what you’re looking for,” Samuel had enthused.
“Jacob said that Reuben Hershberger is the best place around for buggies. He usually has several used courting buggies on hand.” Gideon was newer to the world of courting buggies but catching on fast.
Taking in the intricate drifts from last night’s blowing snow in the passing ditches, Malachi had smiled as he listened. His brothers had been apprentices since they left school after eighth grade and had labored diligently since then. They had their own money. They would buy their own rigs, regardless of any comment he might make, although they might take any advice he offered into consideration. They also knew they would be working to buy hay this winter and putting up hay this summer to feed the new horses.
He hadn’t been surprised when the conversation turned from courting buggies to potential girls to be courted.
“Accommodating of you to be so late last night, Malachi. It gave us a chance to get to know Jacob’s family,” Samuel had commented mildly.
“You mean it gave you a chance to talk with his sisters,” Gideon had corrected. “Where were you anyway, Malachi? You were much later than we figured.”
“I had something I needed to do.” For some reason, Malachi didn’t feel like sharing that he’d followed Ruth home to ensure her safety.
“Well, they are part of his family. A rather pretty part, I might add.” Samuel had always been the most outgoing of the three. He would never hesitate to expand on an opportunity to talk with a pretty girl.
“You would.” Gideon had always been comfortable being in Samuel’s shadow. A comfort level that might change now that he was getting a little older and women were coming into the picture.
“Convenient there’s three of them, although Lydia’s the prettiest.”
Malachi felt the sidelong glance Samuel had sent in his direction but he hadn’t responded to his younger brother’s teasing observation. He’d been more intent on getting safely home than noticing any women hovering around when he’d stepped briefly into the Troyer kitchen last night to collect his brothers. Any impression he’d had was that they were all too young for him. And he’d learned from previous experience that although pretty was pleasant to look upon across a kitchen table, it certainly wasn’t the only, or even the most, important trait when looking for a wife. At least for him. Samuel would hopefully discover that for himself over time.
On seeing he wasn’t going to get any response from his taciturn brother, Samuel had turned his attention to Gideon. “Ach, well, what we don’t meet in the next week or so, we’ll meet after church, Sunday after next. I’ll have a buggy by then. I’ll find a pretty girl to take home after singing.”
“Ja. Only single girl we’ll probably see till then is Ruth at work.”
They had Malachi’s full attention now. Kip flicked back his ears at the slight change in tension on the reins.
“Ach, she’s too old anyway,” Samuel said, dismissing their female coworker.
Malachi frowned. She wasn’t that old. She was younger than his twenty-four years.
“Jacob said she’ll probably go walking out with someone now that her father is gone. He said she ran the business as well as taking care of her father and the farmstead when he was sick. She said she didn’t have much time for courting then. He figured that’d probably be changing now that the business has been sold.”
Ruth had run the business while her father was sick? Malachi hadn’t considered the possibility, but it made sense. Someone had to, and from what he’d heard, her father hadn’t been in any condition to do so for some time. It would explain all the “ask Ruth” responses to any queries. It also made her attitude the first day he’d met her a little more understandable. He winced at the understatement. A lot more understandable. It was a good business. He wouldn’t have wanted to sell it just because he was a daughter instead of a son.
Different districts had different rules regarding what was and wasn’t allowed in the Ordnung. Apparently, ownership of that type of business by a single woman was verboten for the Miller’s Creek Amish community.
On the heels of that thought, another thread from the conversation seeped in. Was Jacob Troyer interested in walking out with Ruth? There was a surprising twist in Malachi’s stomach at the idea. He’d never had two employees who worked for him courting before. And if they got married, she’d have to leave. If they got married... Malachi didn’t pursue the thought.
He didn’t know yet what he was going to do about Ruth in the business. As far as operations went, particularly in light of what he’d just heard, she was an asset. The bookkeeping—far from Malachi’s favorite part of the operation—was exceptional, and the recently added business, lucrative. Her coworkers’ attitudes toward her were respectful, as well.
But women could be a distraction, whether they wanted to be or not. Leah had been. It’d been the primary reason that he’d left Ohio. And a business that used tools that could take off a man’s finger or worse was not a place for distractions. He’d have to pay close attention. If there were any indications Ruth was going to be a distraction for the single men, now that she might be open to courting, she’d have to go.
Malachi suddenly became aware of the distant clatter of silverware and dishes around him in the restaurant, but an expectant silence at their own table. He looked over to see Lydia’s gaze directed at him and realized he’d been asked a question by the young woman.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”
Yes, a woman could be a distraction. But the girl beside him, avidly trying to get his attention, wasn’t nearly as distracting as the thought that his female employee might be open to courting.
Chapter Seven
Winter descended upon Wisconsin. The next few weeks dropped a few more inches of snow on the ground, albeit more gently than before. Ruth made sure she and the puppy were up early, and she was urging a cranky Bess down the road with enough time to be one of the first ones to work. But she never arrived earlier than Malachi.
Ruth didn’t know when he’d become just Malachi, and not the boss, or the new owner, but he had. What he hadn’t done was pay her much attention, although Ruth would look up occasionally from where she’d be working and find his thoughtful gaze on her. Upon meeting her eyes, he’d usually nod and go about his business, but he never attempted to approach her.
Her father had set up the workshop so a craftsman would normally work a piece of furniture through all aspects of production. That way, they learned every necessary skill of furniture making. Also, if one worker was out for any reason, the work didn’t pile up at his station waiting for his return. Granted, some workers were better at certain tasks than others. They’d assist those less skilled, particularly on intricate pieces, when needed. Ruth was relieved that Malachi hadn’t changed the process. At least not yet. She thought she might lose some of the joy of woodworking if the operation became more of an assembly-line setup.
Ruth was also glad to discover the Schrock brothers were efficient and talented craftsmen. Malachi was particularly so. One of the many times she’d brought her lunch and stayed in the workroom, she’d strolled over to the project he’d been working on. It was a sideboard, which, instead of being part of a dining room set, was a stand-alone piece. She understood why as she examined the alluring design. Complicated yet sturdy, it personified its maker. Ruth had run
her hand over the top, marveling at the smooth, glass-like finish. She knelt by the piece, examining the joints and details the average observer wouldn’t notice. Ja, he was good. Perhaps not quite as good as her father, but very talented.
She wasn’t surprised. From what she’d gotten to know of him, doing quiet, steady, yet beautiful work was consistent with his personality. Ruth realized he’d earned her respect, something she knew she was often miserly about granting. She still wished she hadn’t had to relinquish the business, but for the first time, she acknowledged that it was pleasant not to have all the duties and concerns affiliated with owning and running a business on her shoulders.
Ruth could show up, do her work and go home. Granted, she was going home to an empty house with only a dog for company, but that could expand to visiting friends and neighbors as the weather got warmer and the daylight extended. But she’d probably be gone by then, Ruth reminded herself. Somewhere far away from the Amish community of Miller’s Creek.
Instead of the peaceful sound of birds through the windows as they settled for the night, or the relaxing croaking of the bullfrogs in the nearby pond as she knit in the evenings, she might have a television. A radio would replace the charming occasional call and response of a barred owl, with their distinctive who cooks for you, as she worked a puzzle.
Because she wouldn’t be on a farm. She’d be in a town or a city and hear none of those soothing sounds. It was what she’d always wanted, wasn’t it? Taking a deep breath, she pushed to her feet. After one lingering finger stroked across the surface of the sideboard, she wandered back to her station and went to work.
