A Husband For Mari (The Amish Matchmaker 2) (3 page)

Jericho nudged him, and James dug into his pocket and came up with a piece of raw carrot. Holding his hand flat, he watched as the gelding daintily nibbled it.

“I didn’t know horses liked carrots,” Zachary said from the shadows.

“Apples, carrots, even turnips. But Jericho likes sugar cubes most of all.” James didn’t look in the boy’s direction.

Zachary climbed up the half wall of the stall and peered at the bay gelding. He was a little small for his age: brown hair, blue eyes. A nice-looking boy. But he didn’t look like Mari, and James couldn’t help wondering about his father.

“He’s pretty big,” Zachary said.

“Just under sixteen hands. He’s a Thoroughbred, foaled for racing. But he wasn’t fast enough, so he ended up at auction. That’s where I bought him.”

“They auction off horses?” Zachary stared at the horse.

“They do.” James glanced at the boy. He seemed wary, prepared to run if Jericho made any sudden moves. “Have you been around a lot of horses?”

“Not a lot of horses in a trailer park.”

“Probably best. Not a lot of pasture in a trailer park.” He looked past Zachary to where bales of sweet timothy hay were stacked. “Toss Jericho a section of that hay, will you?”

Zachary didn’t move from the stall’s half wall. “That his name?”

“It is.”

“Horses on TV have better names.”

James leaned on the gate. “Such as?”

Zachary thought for a minute. “Lightning. Thunder.”

“Thunder. Hmm. Don’t know if I’d feel easy hitching a horse named Thunder to my buggy.” James glanced Zachary’s way. “Nippy out here. You can put that coat on if you want.”

“Nah. I’m good.” Zachary slid down, broke off a section of the hay bale and stuffed it through the railing. Closing his eyes, the horse chewed contentedly. “He’s pretty neat. For a horse. But buggies are dumb. Why don’t you buy a car?”

“I had a truck once, but I sold it when I bought Jericho.”

Zachary’s eyes got big. “You had a truck?”

“A blue Ford F-150 pickup,” James answered.

Zachary watched Jericho eat, seeming to be fascinated. “Horses are too slow.”

“Depends on how big a hurry you’re in, I suppose. Sometimes, you notice things you’d miss if you were in a hurry.”

“It must be boring. Being Amish. No video games or Saturday cartoons.”

“No, we don’t have those things. But we do lots of things for fun. Baseball, fishing, ice-skating, hayrides, family picnics and work frolics.”

“What’s a work frolic?”

James noticed that while Zachary’s voice gave the impression of boredom, his blue eyes sparkled with curiosity. “Well, say someone needs a new barn. Either lightning has struck his old one and burned it down, or a family is starting out on a new farm. A work frolic would be when the whole community pitches in to help build that barn. There might be as many as fifty or more men all working at once.”

Zachary frowned. “Sounds like a lot of hard work.”

“If you’re with friends, all laughing and joking, it is fun. There’s nothing like watching a barn rise up from an empty pasture in one day.” He smiled. “And then there’s all kinds of great food. Fried chicken, shoofly pie, ice cream. And we have games after we eat—tug-of-war, softball, even sack races. Winter is a slow time, because of bad weather. But if you’re here in May, you’ll see lots of work frolics.”

“Oh, we won’t be here,” Zachary assured him. “We’re going back to Wisconsin. I’ve got friends there. In my old school.”

The boy’s voice sounded confident, but the expression in his eyes told another story, and James felt a tug of sympathy in his chest. “Must have been rough, leaving all those buddies behind.” He leaned on the stall gate. “Coming to a new place where everything is strange. I can see how you wouldn’t much care for it.”

“I’m not saying this to be mean, but the whole Amish thing?” Zachary said. “It’s kinda weird.”

James nodded solemnly. “I can see how you’d feel that way. Everybody dressing differently, eating different food.”

“The food’s not bad.”

“I guess your mom’s a good cook.”

“The best. Great. But Darlene wasn’t,” Zachary clarified. “She and her daughter lived with us at the trailer until we got evicted. Darlene couldn’t even cook mac and cheese out of a box.”

James grimaced as much from the idea of Mari and her son being evicted as the thought of macaroni and cheese out of a box. “I don’t think I’d enjoy her cooking,” he told Zachary.

“Who would?” Warming to his tale, Zachary elaborated. “One time, Mom got this coupon for a free turkey. If you buy enough stuff, the supermarket gives them to everybody. It’s not charity or anything.”

“No,” James agreed. “It wouldn’t be if anyone could get one.”

“Right. But you had to buy so many groceries and save the receipts. Anyway, Mom got this turkey for Thanksgiving, but she had to work, so Darlene tried to cook it herself.” Zachary made a face. “Can you believe she didn’t take the guts out? She just stuffed the bird in the oven with the plastic bag of guts inside and ruined it.”

James chuckled. “Sounds bad.”

“It was.” The boy kicked at the bottom rung of the stall rhythmically. “You said you sold your truck. How come they let you have a truck? Mom said Amish drive buggies.”

“They do. If you want to be a part of the Amish community and the church, you have to agree to follow the rules. And the rules say no cars and no electricity.”

“They think cars and TV are bad?”

James shook his head slowly. “Not necessarily bad, just worldly. Things like electricity link us to the outer world. They take us away too easily from the people and things that mean the most to us.”

“So how’d you have a truck? I’d guess you got in big trouble.”

“Some but not much.” James took his time answering, taking care with the words he chose. “When you become a young man or a young woman in the Amish community, you get to decide how you want to live. Do you want to be Amish, or do you want to join the English world? No one can force you to be Amish, so many Amish young people go out into the world to see if they like it better than this one. That’s what I did. I left Seven Poplars and got a job working construction.”

“You just packed up and went?”

James nodded again. “I did. My sister begged me not to go. She’s older than I am, more like a mom than a sister, because our mother died when I was little.”

“No mom. Tough,” Zachary said. “My father died, but I never knew him, so I didn’t care much.”

“Your mom didn’t remarry?” James asked.

“Nope. And she doesn’t go out with guys like Darlene did. Mom says I’m her guy.” He gave a little smirk.

James smiled to himself. He was glad to know that Mari wasn’t attached; maybe because he didn’t like the idea of her being with someone who clearly hadn’t been taking good care of her. He tapped the toe of his boot against the stall. “Listen, I have to get back to work, but I was wondering if you’d be interested in helping us out today. We need somebody to sweep, fetch nails and tools. Stuff like that.”

Zachary’s eyes narrowed. “Would I get paid?”

“If you do the work, sure. I know you’ll be going back to school soon, but—”

“I’m not starting school here,” Zachary interrupted. “I tried to tell Mom that.”

“You and your mom butt heads a lot?”

“No, not so much. I mean, she’s great and all. Really. But when she can find a job, she works a lot. Overtime. Sometimes two jobs at the same time. So a lot of times, I was with babysitters and after-school care. Mom thinks I’m a kid still. She’s kind of bossy.”

James had to press his lips together to keep from chuckling. “My sister can be like that.”

Zachary grimaced. “Girls.”

“Hard to understand them sometimes.”

“Yeah. But I could probably help you out until Mom figures out we don’t belong here.”

“I don’t know your mother well, but she seems like she cares a lot for you. Like she’s trying to do the right thing.”

“She’s the best. But this was a bad idea, coming here. It’s better back in Wisconsin. You’re probably nice people and all, but we like cars and TV and electric. I hate it when the electric gets turned off in our trailer.”

“Gets turned off?” James asked.

“You know.” Zachary frowned. “When you can’t pay the bill.”

Now it was James’s turn to frown. He could imagine how hard it must have been for Mari as a parent, trying to care for her son. “That happen a lot?”

“Mom does her best. Electricity and car insurance are expensive. We make out all right. It’s just that Mom lost her job and then we got kicked out of our trailer for not paying. But something will come along. It always does.” The boy reached out boldly and patted Jericho’s broad back.

They were both quiet for a minute. Sara had told him a little about Mari the week before, that she and her son needed a fresh start, but she hadn’t told him that Mari had lost her job and her home. His heart went out to her. He couldn’t imagine what it was like for a woman to be alone with no family, no friends, trying to raise a boy properly.

James glanced at Zachary again. “Sounds like what I’m hearing you say is that you might like to earn a little money. And be a help to your mom.” He didn’t know that the bit of pocket change Zachary might earn would really help Mari’s situation, but he did know that even a boy Zachary’s age wanted to feel as if he was needed. “Take some of the strain off her?”

“Yeah. That would be good,” Zachary agreed.

James crossed his arms over his chest. “And from me and my crew.” Again, he was quiet before he went on, “Zachary, I think your mom was pretty upset when she left for work. This move, losing her home and all, has been pretty tough on her. I think maybe she could use a hug from you when she gets home.”

“Probably.” Zachary looked thoughtful.

“I don’t know why you quarreled, but a man’s got to show respect to his mother.”

Zachary looked up at him. “I’m a boy, not a man.”

“But you’re old enough to have responsibilities. And it looks to me as though the most important one is to take care of her. Treat her right.”

He twisted his mouth thoughtfully. “Guess I should say sorry when she comes home tonight.”

“Sounds good to me. So let’s shake on it, you doing some work for me.” James extended his hand and Zachary took it. Zachary had a firm grip, and James liked that. “But if you’re serious about working with my crew, you’d better go put that barn coat on. All of my men come dressed for work, no matter the weather.”

“Okay,” Zachary agreed. He grabbed the jacket and put it on. “What’s your name?”

“James. James Hostetler.”

“I’m Zachary. Zachary Troyer.”

“Glad to have you on my crew, Zachary.” He didn’t allow his amusement to show in his expression.
Zachary Troyer
, he mused.
Not so different from us after all.
James had never met a Troyer who wasn’t Amish or who didn’t have Amish ancestry. Maybe Zachary wasn’t as far away from home as he thought.

Chapter Three

W
hen the van dropped Mari off at Sara’s after work, she had them let her off at the end of the lane to give herself a couple of minutes to decompress. Her day had been hectic and overwhelming; but she was definitely going to like the job. Gideon and Addy Esch were good people to work for, just as James had said they would be. Gideon laughed and teased her so much, she wasn’t always sure how to take him. And Addy had seemed pleased with her, though it was obvious she was going to be the one who would be a stickler for doing things the way she liked them. Still, it had been a fun first day at work, and Mari was looking forward to seeing everyone at the shop the next morning.

Inside Sara’s house, Mari found the kitchen a beehive of activity. The delicious smells of baked ham, biscuits and gingerbread swirled through the kitchen. Pots steamed and dishes clattered as Sara, Jerushah and Ellie stirred and tasted. Mari was pleasantly surprised to find that Zachary was part of the activity, carefully placing silverware on either side of blue-and-white willow-pattern plates at the large table. And just as James had predicted, he seemed perfectly content.

“How was your day, Zachary?” Mari walked over to the table. She wanted to hug him or at least to ruffle his hair, but she didn’t want to embarrass him in front of the others.

“It was good,” he said enthusiastically. “I helped work on the addition! I learned how to use a level and how to swing a hammer.” He talked faster and faster as he went, as if he had so much so tell her that he was afraid he’d leave something out. “James’s hammer was kind of big, but he said he had one at home my size that he’d bring tomorrow. Not a toy hammer. A real one. One that fits better in my hand. A good weight for me, James said. He said I could call him James. That’s okay, right? He says that’s the way they do it here. Amish people. Kids call adults by their first names.”

Mari couldn’t resist a big grin. Zachary was so excited and happy that she barely recognized him as the sulky boy who had ridden in the van with her from Wisconsin a few days ago.

“And, oh!” Zachary put down the handful of silverware and dug in his pocket, coming up with a five-dollar bill and some ones. “See. I made money, too.” He pushed it into her hand and beamed at her. “For you. You know. To buy us stuff we need.”

Tears sprang to Mari’s eyes. Zachary could be such a kindhearted boy. She didn’t know why she worried so much about him; he really
was
a good kid. “Honey, you earned that money,” she said gently, holding it out to him. “It’s yours to buy what you want. You could save for a handheld video game or something like that.”

He thought for minute and then shook his head. “I think we better save it for a car, but I can hang on to it for us.” He put the money back in his pocket and reached for the silverware, then dropped his hands to his sides.

Mari knew that look on his face. He’d done something wrong. Her heart fell. If Zachary couldn’t behave himself when he was at Sara’s, she didn’t know what she was going to do. She exhaled. “You have something to tell me?” she asked quietly.

He nodded, staring at the floor. But then he looked up at her. “I just wanted to say I was sorry.” He spoke so softly that Mari had to lean over to hear him. “I shouldn’t have been mean to you this morning. I should have gone and gotten my hoodie when you told me to.”

“Oh, Zachary.” Mari couldn’t help herself. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly. “I know this is hard, and I’m so proud of you.” She kissed the top of his head before letting go of him.

“James says it’s important that a man know how to say he’s sorry.” He picked up the silverware and went back to setting the table.

Mari just stood there for a minute, her heart just a little too full for words.

“What a good boy you are to want to give to your family,” Sara pronounced enthusiastically. “I know your mother appreciates it.” Then to Mari she said, “Glad to have you home—supper’s almost ready. We’re all eager to hear about your first day.”

“Let me run upstairs and clean up,” Mari said as she retreated from the kitchen. “I’ll be right back down.”

In the room Mari shared with Zachary, she hung up the two new plum-colored aprons bearing the butcher shop’s logo. Then she slipped out of her work sneakers and into the only other pair she had.

As Mari tied her shoes, she thought about her day. It had been overwhelming but fun, too. She just hoped she’d be able to live up to Addy’s expectations, which were pretty high. But she knew she could do it. She would do whatever she needed to do and learn whatever they wanted her to learn. The other employees were pleasant, including the butchers who worked in the plant, and she thought that dealing with a mix of Amish and English customers would be interesting. She did have experience taking orders because she’d worked at another job several years earlier where she sat at a computer all day selling items advertised on television. But she much preferred working face-to-face with people, and she liked meeting new challenges.

The job would be fine, she assured herself as she ducked into the bathroom to wash her hands and tidy up her hair. She and Zachary had been through a lot of bad stuff, but things were looking up since they moved to Delaware. It had definitely been the right decision; she knew that now. And maybe Zachary was beginning to see that, too. She was so relieved to come home to Sara’s and find him smiling instead of sulking in their room. And the idea that he wanted her to have his money and then had apologized for his behavior that morning... It made her heart swell. And it also made her realize that she had some thanking to do, as well.

Once presentable, Mari hurried back downstairs and into the kitchen. “Sara, what can I do to help get supper ready?”

“Could you go outside and hunt down James—you remember which one is James?” Sara arched an eyebrow.

Sara hadn’t changed a bit since Mari had known her in Wisconsin. People said that Sara had more energy than a March snowstorm. Some called her interfering and headstrong for a woman, but Mari had always admired her. Now she was once more a widow, but even as a wife, Sara had been direct and known for speaking her mind. Very much like Addy seemed to be, Mari thought. Maybe that was why Addy and her husband spoke so highly of Sara and respected her opinion.

“I know who James is.” Mari suppressed a little smile. She had no idea what had gotten into her.

“Ask him if he would like to join us for supper. But not those Swartzentruber rascals. Just James. A new client will be arriving any moment. We’re a household of women except Zachary, and I don’t want him to feel awkward his first night here. A gaggle of women can be intimidating to a man.”

“Of course we have Hiram,” Ellie chimed in. The little woman was climbing on a three-foot stepladder to reach a serving plate in the cupboard.

“
Ya
, there’s always Hiram,” Jerushah said, “but he doesn’t have much to add to the conversation.”

“Exactly.” Sara smiled. “James said his sister and the boys were going to her mother-in-law’s tonight, so James will be on his own. Tell him that I’d consider it a favor if he could put his feet under my table and make Peter feel at ease. Peter’s mother advises me that he’s shy, so I doubt he’ll talk much more than Hiram. We need to make him feel more at ease talking with women. James will help him relax.”

“Whereas,” Ellie declared from her perch on the ladder, “Titus and Menno would delight in telling Peter tall tales of the homely women Sara wants to match him with.”

“Like they did with my prospective husband,” Jerushah put in shyly. “They nearly frightened my John into backing out of the arrangement before he’d even met me.”

“So no ham for Menno and Titus tonight.” Sara gave a firm nod of her head. “They can go home, have cold liver and onions and pester their own mother.”

“Like I do sometimes,” Zachary chimed in.

The women laughed, and Mari glanced at her son. What had gotten into Zachary? He talked when they were alone together, but he was usually quiet around strangers. Apparently he’d finished setting the table; now he was holding a towel for Ellie. She’d just come down off the ladder to find hot mitts and slide a gigantic pan of gingerbread from the oven.

“So Zachary worked with the men today, I hear,” Mari said. “I hope he wasn’t any trouble. James said it would be fine, but I don’t want to...” She searched for the right words as an image of James came to her and she felt her cheeks grow warm. What on earth was wrong with her, being so silly over some man she didn’t even know? Just tired, she supposed. “I just wouldn’t want to take advantage of anyone’s kindness,” she said.

“He was no trouble at all. What this house needs is some active children.” Sara went back to the refrigerator and removed pickles and a crockery bowl containing chowchow. “Not only was he no trouble but he was helpful. First he worked outside with the men. Then he came in and made the gingerbread for dessert.”

“Zachary made gingerbread?” Mari wanted to pinch herself to make certain she wasn’t dreaming. “I didn’t know he was interested in cooking.”

“Not cooking, Mom,” Zachary corrected. “
Baking.
Sara said if I learn to make really good gingerbread, they’ll sell it at the shop where you work and I could make money doing that, too.”

Ellie carried a pan of gingerbread to a soapstone-topped counter and set it down to cool. “Addy was telling me she thought Sara’s gingerbread would be a good seller. I know it’s a butcher shop, but they want a couple shelves of baked goods, too.”

“We didn’t make it from a box,” Zachary explained. “I mixed flour and eggs and ginger spice and stuff. It took a long time.”

“I can’t wait to taste it.” Mari offered Ellie a smile of gratitude.

It usually took Zachary a long time to warm up to strangers, but he was acting as though he’d known Ellie for ages. Ellie obviously had a real knack for dealing with children.

Mari heard the sound of a car coming up the driveway, and Sara turned from the stove. “That must be Peter,” she said, wiping her hands on her apron. “Ellie, watch that the potatoes don’t burn. I’ll just go out and welcome him. Mari, can you go fetch James?”

“Going.”

“Plenty of coats hanging in the utility room,” Sara instructed. “You might as well just save your own for good. On a farm, a sturdy denim is best, anyway.”

Mari found a coat and slipped into it. Though the style was certainly utilitarian and obviously Amish, Sara’s old coats were warmer than her own. Buttoning up, she dodged Hiram coming in with a bucket of milk and hurried across the back porch.

She walked around the house to find James using a power saw to trim a length of wood. Walking up makeshift steps into the still-open-to-the-elements addition, she called his name, but he couldn’t hear her over the loud whine of the power tool. She waited for him to finish the cut and turn off the saw before speaking again. The gas-powered generator was still running, but it was far enough away that the noise wasn’t too bad. “James?”

“Oh, hey.” He turned toward her and smiled. “Sorry I didn’t hear you, Mari. I was just finishing up here.”

He said her name correctly—just like Mary. Some people wanted to call her
Maury
because of the way she spelled her name. It was short for Maryann, but she’d never liked that name, so when she started writing the shorter version, as a child, she decided to use an
i
instead of a
y
.

Mari’s breath made small clouds of steam, and she pulled the coat tighter around her and suppressed a shiver. The walls and roof cut off some of the wind, but there was no heat. Her ears and nose felt cold, and she wondered how the carpenters could work outside in such bitter weather.

“What can I do for you?” James asked.

And then he smiled at her again, and she immediately became flustered. “Um, I— Sara—” Mari couldn’t seem to speak, and she had no idea why. Obviously it had something to do with James, but she didn’t understand her reaction. This was so unlike her.

Mari didn’t dislike men, but she certainly wasn’t in awe of them like other women her age she’d known. She’d learned that a woman who wasn’t looking for a boyfriend or a husband found life a lot easier. James was looking at her expectantly, but his expression was curious, not impatient. She glanced around at the half-finished space. There didn’t seem to be any of the other workmen there, which made her mission easier since Sara had specified James and not any of the others.

“Sara sent me to ask you if you’d join us for supper,” she said in a rush, then went on to explain why Sara was hoping that he’d join them.

James unplugged and wound the power cord for the saw. “I’d be glad to. I’d be having leftovers at home.” He noticed her looking at the saw. “You’re wondering about the electric saws and such.”

She nodded. Sara had a lot more modern conveniences than the Amish community Mari had come from in Wisconsin. Her uncle hadn’t even had a real bathroom; they still used an outhouse. Maybe this community was a lot more liberal, she thought.

“Gasoline-powered generators are okay,” he explained. “Makes the job go faster. I can build the traditional way when I need to, but Sara wanted this addition done as soon as possible.”

Mari took in the size of the structure. “She must be expecting a lot of company. Wanting more bedrooms.”

“She’s big business in Seven Poplars. Got a waiting list of folks wanting to come and stay and find a spouse.” James placed the heavy saw on a stack of lumber and covered it with a tarp. “So how was your first day at the shop?”

“Um. Good.” Her mind went blank. She studied him, wondering at his interest in her day. It had been a long time since anyone had asked her about her day.

James Hostetler appeared to be in his late twenties, maybe a little younger than she was. His height was average, maybe five-eleven, not as tall as the Swartzentruber brothers or Thomas. James was lanky, with slender, sinewy hands. His fair German complexion was suntanned, his eyes slightly oval and his hands and wrists calloused from a lifetime of manual labor.

James possessed a typical Amish face, more long than round; light brown feathery hair, very clean; a well-defined nose; and a wide, expressive mouth. He was handsome, though not overly so, with a friendly smile and the intelligent brown eyes she’d noticed on first meeting him. He moved easily, almost boyishly, with a bounce in his step. She didn’t know James and she didn’t give her trust easily, but she was inclined to like him. He seemed trustworthy, which wasn’t a trait she saw often in her world.