by Emma Miller
Sara nodded. “I thought it might be. What troubles you about him?”
“Nothing... Everything.” Honor glanced out the window. There was a bird feeder. Cardinals and blue jays vied with a red-bellied woodpecker for the choice spot at the suet, while a nuthatch crept down the tree trunk searching for insects. Honor sucked in a deep breath and tried again. Why was this so difficult? “He wants to court me,” she managed. “But, of course, you already know that.”
“What do you want, Honor?”
“That’s the problem.” She looked back at the matchmaker. Sara’s attention was fixed on her, but her demeanor was relaxed and peaceful. “I don’t know what I want,” Honor confessed. “He’s a good man, and the children like him. I think he would be a kind father to them.” She took a breath. “Kinder than their own father had been,” she added softly.
“And he’s an upstanding man in our community of faith.”
“He is.”
“Would he be a good provider?” Sara asked.
Honor nodded. She placed the mug on a small table. “He would. He...he fits all the requirements that would make him a good husband and a father—the things I told you when we discussed my finding a husband a few months ago. Luke fits well into our family. Having him there so much at the farm makes my life easier, but...but, Sara, I can’t forget what he did. He abandoned me! On our wedding day! It was shameful.” She couldn’t meet the matchmaker’s gaze as she fought tears in a rush of emotion. “He broke my heart.”
Sara was quiet for a moment. “It sounds to me as if you’re torn between what happened in the past and what would be the best for your future. Is that what you’re saying?”
Honor rose and went to the window. She pressed her forehead against the pane and closed her eyes. “Accepting him, agreeing to let him court me would be the easy thing to do. And...part of me wants that. I understand why he couldn’t go through with our wedding. But...my head tells me that it would be foolish to risk the same thing happening again. How do I know what’s sincere and what’s charm?” Hugging herself tightly, she opened her eyes and turned to face Sara. “What do I do?”
Sara took a sip of her tea. “It’s true that Luke is a charmer.”
“Ya.” Honor nodded. “And handsome. And I know that shouldn’t matter, but it does. I’d told myself that I wouldn’t look for that in my next husband, but...” She let her thought go unfinished because it sounded so silly. So girlish.
Sara chuckled. “But you’re human. And young.”
Honor gave a little laugh. “I don’t feel young. I feel middle-aged some days.”
“But you’re not. And your time of mourning Silas is passed. It’s time to marry.”
“I have to think of my children. I have to make the best choice for them. If Luke left me again, he’d also be leaving my little ones. Who are already so attached to him.”
Sara got to her feet and crossed the distance between them. She enfolded Honor in her arms, and for a brief moment, Honor rested her head on the older woman’s shoulder.
“Aunt Martha thinks it would cause a scandal if I allowed Luke to court me now,” Honor whispered.
Sara stepped back, looking indignant. “It isn’t Martha who has to make this decision. It’s you, my girl.” A smile curved her full lips, and she wiped a tear away from Honor’s cheek with the tip of one finger. “Now, no more tears. Let’s put our heads together and think this through.”
Honor nodded and Sara waved her back to her chair.
“Drink your tea while it’s hot. Black tea soothes the mind and makes any situation more bearable.”
Honor sat down and forced herself to take a sip from her cup. The tea was sweet and milky and so good. “Thank you,” she murmured. She fumbled for a handkerchief. “You must think me a ninny.”
“Not at all.” Sara returned to her chair behind the desk. She steepled her small hands and leaned forward on her elbows. “You already know I approve of the match. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have brought him to your home. So asking my opinion doesn’t make a lot of sense, does it?”
Honor shook her head and then chuckled. “I suppose it doesn’t. But I don’t know who else to turn to. Everyone likes Luke. They’d take his side.”
“Not Martha. I’ve already gotten an earful from that one.”
Honor couldn’t suppress a giggle.
Sara smiled but then grew serious. “Have you taken your problem to God?”
“I have.” Honor nodded. “I’ve prayed for guidance, but...God hasn’t answered my pleas.”
Sara rubbed her hands together. “Perhaps, or perhaps He’s answered, and you haven’t been listening. I believe that He has a plan for each of us. We can’t see that plan and I think often we wouldn’t understand it if we could.” She paused. “Honor, Luke came back into your life. Some might say that makes him part of God’s plan.” She paused. “So I suppose my question to you is, how important is your faith to you?”
“It’s everything, of course,” Honor replied in a rush. “My church, my God, are everything to me. I’ve never doubted that ours is the true path.” She gripped the cup tightly. “Or that I am a weak woman.”
“Not weak, but strong,” Sara corrected. “You are a strong woman, a strong mother.”
“I try, but so often, I fail.”
“As we all do.” Sara nodded. “But if you’re sincere in your conviction that God’s word is the truth, then it’s time for you to forgive Luke for the wrong he did you all those years ago. God forgives us our sins, and we must try to forgive those who we feel have wronged us.”
“You’re right. I know you’re right, but it isn’t easy.”
“Ne, child, it isn’t easy because we’re human. It’s our nature to cling to hurts and ill-spoken words. But if we expect God to forgive us, we must do the same.”
Honor looked up from her tea. “I think I can forgive, but can I forget?”
“Do you have feelings for Luke? Do you think you could give him the love a husband deserves?”
“I...think so. But then I have doubts. Maybe because...because agreeing to marry Luke nine years ago was the biggest mistake I ever made in my life.”
Sara shook her head. “Then you have much to be grateful for. A mistake of the heart is a small sin, not one to carry as a burden. Let it go. Set aside your anger and hurt pride, and consider Luke Weaver for the man he is today. Not the man he was nine years ago. Do you think you could do that?”
Honor gazed out the window at the birds flitting on and off the bird feeder. God’s creatures. “I think I can try,” she said, as much to herself as to the matchmaker. She smiled, her eyes getting misty again. “I think I want to.”
Chapter Ten
The following week, Honor and the family were invited to Hannah Yoder Hartman’s farmhouse for a spaghetti supper. The invitation was extended to Luke, as well. It was Hannah’s husband Albert’s birthday.
Luke had met Albert the previous week when he’d come out to have a look at Honor’s cow. A recent convert to the Amish faith, Albert had been and remained a veterinarian to the community. Born to a family of Old Order Mennonites, he had made the change from Mennonite to Amish as easily as a gardener might slip on a pair of worn leather gloves. He’d married widow Hannah Yoder and stepped into the respected role of husband, father and grandfather in Seven Poplars.
Luke pulled the buggy up in the driveway, not far from the porch. The temperature was just above freezing and a misty rain fell.
Almost before the wheels stopped rolling, Tanner pushed open the back door to the buggy and leaped out. Elijah and Justice followed his lead.
“I don’t want you tracking mud into Hannah’s house,” Honor cautioned. “Leave your boots on the porch when you go inside. And be on your best behavior tonight. Remember we’re guests in Hannah and Albert’s house.”
Luke glanced at Honor
with a grin. They’d had a nice ride to Seven Poplars. Honor was in a good mood and they’d chatted all the way here. Not about anything important, just life’s little things. The things he imagined a husband and wife would talk about. “I think they’re excited about that birthday cake.”
“Maybe Zipporah’s been invited,” Greta said as she climbed down. “Lots of buggies.” Anke threw open her arms to Greta, and Honor passed her to the girl. Greta carried the baby to the back steps and shooed the boys up and inside.
As the back door slammed shut, Luke glanced at the murky sky. “I think I’ll get the horse under cover, just in case. I wouldn’t want to leave him standing in the rain all evening.”
Honor turned toward him on the seat and hesitantly reached out to touch him on the arm. Just a touch, and then she drew her hand back. “I wanted to thank you.”
Luke smiled at her in the semidarkness. It seemed as if they hadn’t had more than a moment alone all week, between bad weather keeping the boys inside and him working hard to check one item after the next off the list they created together of all the things that needed repairing on her farm. “For anything in particular?” he teased.
Her cheeks grew rosy. She was so beautiful, particularly when she blushed or got flustered. “For everything you’ve done. You did such a fine job patching the roof, I don’t even know that I need a new one, yet.”
“We’ll see. In the meantime, there’s a lot more to do—the siding on the house, those missing boards on the barn. And the barn definitely needs a new roof—” He broke off as a man stepped off the porch and came to greet them. “There’s Albert.”
The older man approached the driver’s side of the buggy. “Luke! Honor! So glad you could make it. When the weather turned wet, Hannah was afraid you’d think it too far to come on a Friday night.”
“Once the boys heard that there would be cake, there was no choice,” Luke answered.
Albert laughed, adjusting a battered wide-brimmed wool hat on his head. “Boys do like cake. And who can blame them? Hannah’s Ruth baked it, and by the size of it, you’d better all have a hearty appetite.”
Luke had liked Albert from their first meeting. There was something that reminded him of his uncle in Kansas, who’d been like a second father to him. Honor was becoming friends with Rebecca and Leah, two of Hannah’s daughters. Luke thought that it would be good for Honor to have more friends her own age, even if the young women belonged to the Seven Poplars church community and not her own. And he enjoyed any opportunity to escort Honor somewhere besides Byler’s Store.
“I hope my children are on their best behavior tonight.” Honor leaned forward on the buggy seat to speak to Albert. “They can be a little high-spirited.”
“No such thing in youngsters,” Albert insisted. “I say a child will be a child. Hannah and I have a bushelful of grands. The more the merrier. Nothing like a child’s laughter to liven up a house full of old people.” He rested a hand on the buggy door frame. “I knew your Silas, Honor. He was always one to take good care of his livestock. He never stinted on food or medicine for his cows and horses. That says a lot about a man, that he cares about dumb beasts. Too many don’t, you know. I was saddened to hear of his passing. And you left alone with four little ones to care for. But we’re not given to understand God’s plan.”
“Thank you,” Honor said.
“It’s true,” Albert went on. “But you’ve done all anyone could ask, and your time of mourning is rightfully past. Silas has gone on to a better place.”
Luke murmured something appropriate. Talk of Silas always made him uncomfortable.
“It was kind of you to invite us to your birthday supper,” Honor replied.
“Pleasure’s all ours. If it was up to me, I wouldn’t have made a fuss over my birthday, but Hannah insisted. We’re always pleased to welcome company, and this is as good an occasion as any. I can’t tell you how pleased I was to hear that the two of you were courting,” Albert continued. “Luke will make you a fine—”
“Oh, we aren’t courting,” Honor protested.
Albert chuckled. “Ah, like that, is it?” He nodded, smoothing his beard. “I understand.” Drops of rain spattered against the buggy windshield and on Albert’s hat. “Young people like to keep their privacy. Not a problem. Well, best get your horse out of the weather.” He pointed toward a large barn with a sliding door standing open. “You can drive right inside. Tie up your horse, or better yet, unhitch it and turn it into a stall. Plenty of room in that barn. And don’t mind the llama. Bought it to turn in with the alpacas, sort of a big guard dog, and they won’t let it into the field with them yet.”
“What I was saying was that you’re mistaken!” Honor called as Albert made a dash for the house and Luke flicked the reins over the horse’s back. “We’re not—”
“I’d heard Albert bought a llama,” Luke said, ignoring what she was trying to tell Albert. “The kids would probably love to see it.”
Honor turned to him. “Who told Albert we were courting?” She didn’t sound angry, but she was clearly not pleased.
“Wasn’t me. But someone at the mill mentioned it yesterday morning. One of Hannah’s sons-in-law, I think.” He chuckled. “Everyone seems to think we are.”
“It has to be Aunt Martha,” she muttered. “She does like to stir a pot.”
He glanced at her. “So...if everyone already thinks we’re courting, maybe we should be.”
“Dream on,” she huffed.
But something in the tone of her voice gave him hope. She didn’t sound as if she was completely convinced it was a bad idea. Almost without realizing it, he began to whistle as he turned the horse toward the barn.
Suddenly, the rain began to come down in sheets, making it almost impossible to see, but the horse had sensed shelter and headed toward it at a trot. In no more than a minute or two, the horse and buggy passed out of the yard and into the big barn.
“Atch,” Honor said. “Where did that downpour come from?”
“As my uncle used to say, it’s coming down katze un hunde. Cats and dogs! There’s a big umbrella in the back,” he suggested. “We could grab that.”
“I don’t think the umbrella would do much good,” she said, glancing over her shoulder. “The rain’s blowing sideways. Just as well, my pie flopped. It wouldn’t do to serve it wet.”
Luke made no comment. Honor had made her special shoofly pie for Albert and Hannah, but somehow, she’d switched sugar for salt in the recipe. She wouldn’t have discovered it if she hadn’t tasted the filling before putting the pie in the oven. Unfortunately, there’d been no time to start a second pie.
Luke suspected that it hadn’t been an accident and that Tanner or maybe Justice was to blame. Somehow the canisters had gotten mixed up. That was exactly the sort of trick they liked to play. They weren’t mean children, but some of their antics, like removing the ladder when he was patching the shed roof, which they’d done the other day, were more dangerous than funny.
He didn’t like to make assumptions when he didn’t have the facts. Still, he strongly suspected that one of them had filled the sugar container with salt. Not only had Tanner been helping his mother in the kitchen at the time, but he and his brothers had found the mix-up extremely funny. But Luke didn’t want to touch that subject tonight. Honor was quick to defend her children, even when their mischief got out of hand, and he didn’t want to spoil the birthday outing.
Besides, it was nice being here in the dark barn, with Honor sitting beside him and rain hitting the roof and coming down outside. Cozy and intimate. He could smell the green-apple shampoo that she used. It was the same scent he’d always associated with her, because she’d used it since she was a girl. And being here, so close to Honor, he could feel that something had changed between them. He didn’t know if it was the tone of her voice, the way she seemed at ease with him tonight or something to
o precious and fleeting to put a name to. But there was a difference, and for the first time, he was sure he had a real chance of winning her as his wife.
“A pity about the pie,” Honor remarked. “I don’t know how I could have done something so thoughtless as to add so much salt for sugar. The canisters in the pantry aren’t even the same size.”
Again, Luke bit back the urge to give his opinion on who might have been responsible. He could be wrong, and even if he wasn’t, it wouldn’t be his place to parent Honor’s boys until after they were married. If things worked out the way he hoped, there would have to be more discipline in the household, but it wasn’t something he was looking forward to tackling.
“Anyone can make a mistake,” he said. “It was kind of you to think of making a pie for Albert and Hannah.”
Honor sighed. “A waste of good sugar.” And then she chuckled. “Ne, salt. Well, next time I’ll be more careful.”
She slid over toward the far door and he quickly got out and came around the buggy to help her down.
Other horses poked their heads over the stalls to nicker at Honor’s. And then a creamy-white llama with large eyes and enormous eyelashes did the same thing only a few feet from where Honor stood. The driving horse snorted and took a few steps backward. Luke caught Honor’s arm and pulled her away from the rolling buggy. “Careful,” he warned. “I was afraid the wheel would crush your foot.” He was afraid the llama might have startled her as well, but he didn’t say that.
But Honor didn’t seem in the least intimidated. “Look at it. Isn’t it amazing?” She moved free from his grasp and picked up a handful of hay from the barn floor. She held it out to the llama.
“It might bite,” he warned.
Honor shook her head. “No, it’s gentle. Look at the eyes.” She placed a small piece of timothy hay in the flat of her palm and held it out. Daintily, the creature nibbled at the treat, then carefully removed it from Honor’s hand with its lips, closed its eyes and munched contently. “Good, llama. That’s good, isn’t it?” she murmured.
