On Her Own (14 page)

“Wie geht’s?” the bishop called as he stepped down from the buggy.

“I’m fine, and you?”

“Hot and thirsty.” He swiped his hand across his forehead. “It’s a real scorcher.”

“It sure is,” she agreed. “It makes me feel guilty to see how hard the women are working in my yard.”

Bishop John glanced over his shoulder. “Have they been working long?”

“A few hours, but they’ll be stopping soon for lunch. My mamm made some sandwiches, so I’ll be calling them in to eat in a few minutes.” Barbara nodded toward the porch swing. “If you’d like to have a seat, I’ll get you a glass of iced tea.”

He grinned and seated himself on the swing. “I’d be much obliged.”

Barbara wasn’t sure whether to leave her boys with Bishop John or take them inside with her. Seeing how much fun Zachary was having as he raced back and forth on the lawn, chasing after Joseph, she decided to leave things as they were. “I’ll be right back,” she said before hurrying inside.

A few minutes later, she returned with a glass of iced tea for the bishop and some crackers for her boys. She figured it would tide them over until lunch and maybe keep their mouths too busy to talk. Joseph could be quite chatty, and the last thing she needed was for him to tell John Frey any of their personal business.

She called the boys over to the porch, gave them the crackers, and instructed them to go back to the barn and play.

“How come, Mama?” Aaron asked. “You just called us out of the barn, and now you want us to go back?”

“I know I did, but I want you to play awhile longer so I can speak with Bishop John.”

Joseph didn’t have to be asked twice. He grabbed hold of Zachary’s hand, and the two scampered off. But not Aaron. He glanced at the bishop with a strange expression, then stared at the porch floor, scuffing the toe of his boot along the wooden planks.

“Go on now,” Barbara instructed. “Get on out to the barn with your brothers.”

Aaron grunted and finally ambled off.

“Won’t you sit with me and visit awhile?” the bishop asked.

Barbara’s skin prickled as she sensed it was more than a casual visit, since he hadn’t brought any of his daughters along. She sat in the wicker chair on the other side of the porch.

“I don’t bite, you know,” he said with a slanted grin.

She forced a smile in return. “I’m sure you don’t. But I want to be close to the back door so I can hear the boppli if he starts to cry.”

He shrugged and removed his straw hat, using it to fan his face. “Whew! Sure hope it cools down some. It’s only the beginning of June, and already it’s hotter than an oven turned on high.”

She nodded. “Jah, hot and sticky.”

The bishop cleared his throat. “I’ve been thinking about the two of us.”

The speed of Barbara’s heartbeat picked up. “What about us?”

“You’ve been widowed almost a year now, and it’s been six months since my wife died.” He paused and licked his lips. “The book of Ecclesiastes says, ‘Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour.’ ”

She nodded politely.

“I figure you’ve got young ones who need a daed, and I have four daughters who certainly could use a mother’s hand. Since two are better than one, I was wondering how you’d feel about marrying me.”

Barbara’s mouth fell open. She’d suspected John Frey had marriage on his mind, but she hadn’t expected him to be quite so direct. This proposal, if she could call it that, was much too sudden and abrupt. They hadn’t courted or done anything of a social nature together, and she doubted they had much in common.

“Your silence makes me wonder if you find the idea of marriage to me objectionable.” His forehead wrinkled. “Is it the
thought of being a bishop’s wife that bothers you, or is it our age difference?”

Barbara twisted her hands in her lap. How could she put her feelings into words and not sound as if she were being too particular or unappreciative of his offer? “There is a good fifteen years between us,” she admitted. “Though I know many folks who have married people much older or younger and things worked out fine.”

His lips turned upward. “That’s how I see it, too.”

“As far as being a bishop’s wife, I don’t think that’s reason enough to keep someone from marrying another, either.”

He jumped up and moved quickly to stand beside her. “Does that mean you’d be willing to marry me?”

Barbara cringed. She was making a mess of things and had to fix it before she ended up betrothed to this man for whom she felt nothing but respect as her bishop. “I’m not ready to commit to marriage again,” she said, carefully choosing her words. “And if I should ever marry, I would want it to be for love, not merely for the sake of convenience.”

A pained expression crossed his face, and she was sure she had hurt his feelings.

“You’re saying you don’t find me appealing, isn’t that right?” The poor man looked as if he’d taken a whiff of vinegar.

“That’s not it at all.” Barbara sucked in her lower lip. “It’s just that I’m not over the loss of David yet, and it wouldn’t seem right to take another husband until the pain subsides.”

The bishop paced the length of the porch several times. After a few minutes, he stopped and faced her again. “Both of us will always have love in our hearts for the ones we married
in our youth. But that shouldn’t stop us from starting a new relationship. Fact is, getting married again might help heal our pain.”

Even if the bishop was right, Barbara didn’t want or need a husband right now. She had her hands full making sure her business didn’t fail. “I truly do appreciate the offer, John, but—”

He held up one hand. “I want to take care of you, Barbara. I’d like to offer you a home and provide for you and your boys.”

The man sounded sincere, but what he’d said caused her spine to go rigid. “I’ve got my job at the harness shop, and it supports us well enough.”

“I understand that, but wouldn’t you prefer not to have to work in order to take care of your boys?”

“I enjoy working with leather.”

“But keeping the harness shop is becoming harder for you to do now that your daed’s arthritis is getting worse and you have to rely on your mamm to care for the boys. Isn’t that right?”

She nodded.

John reached out his hand like he might touch her, but he pulled it back and smiled instead. “You don’t have to give me your answer this minute. Just promise you’ll think about marrying me, okay?”

Not wishing to hurt the man’s feelings, Barbara nodded.

“I’ll give you a few more months to make up your mind.”

“I. . .uh. . .appreciate that,” she mumbled.

He handed her his empty glass. “I think we could both benefit if we were to marry, and I believe our kinner would gain something from our union, too.”

Barbara’s hand shook as she lifted it to touch her flushed
face. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get my boys. It’s past their lunchtime.”

“I can call them for you, since I’ll be headed that way to my buggy,” he offered.

“That would be fine.” Barbara scurried into the house. Maybe she would feel better after she’d had some lunch. She was determined to do a little work in the harness shop, no matter how drained she felt.

When John poked his head into the barn, he discovered Zachary and Joseph sitting on a pile of straw playing with two kittens. The oldest boy, Aaron, sat on a wooden stool, fiddling with an old wooden yo-yo. “Your mamm wanted me to tell you that she’s got lunch ready,” John said, smiling at the boys.

Zachary and Joseph set the kittens down and scampered out. But Aaron just sat twisting the string of the yo-yo around his finger.

Deciding to take advantage of the situation, John stepped up to Aaron and touched his shoulder. “I was thinking it might be kind of fun to go on a picnic and maybe do some fishing sometime. What do you think of that idea, huh?”

Aaron looked up, and his eyebrows lifted slightly. “Just you and me?”

John shook his head. “I was planning to ask your mamm and brieder to go along.”

“Mama and my brothers might want to go, but I’m not interested.”

“How come?”

“Just don’t wanna go, that’s all.” Aaron shrugged. “Paul Hilty asked Mama to go fishing with him on Saturday, but if she goes, only my brothers are goin’.”

John stiffened. Was Paul planning to stay in Webster County for good? Did he have his cap set for Barbara? He grimaced. Maybe the man was after Barbara’s harness shop and figured the best way to get it was to marry the woman.

Well, it’s not going to happen. I’ll keep after Barbara until she marries me. It’s my job as her bishop to see that no one takes advantage of her
.

P
aul glanced at the clock. It was almost one, and he’d just finished eating his lunch. His mother had outdone herself when she’d packed him leftover meat loaf, tangy potato salad, and zesty baked beans. The food had gone down a lot better than two hunks of bread with a slice of ham sandwiched between, which was what he usually fixed.

As Paul slipped his lunch pail under the counter, he thought about the day he’d been invited to join Barbara and her boys for their noon meal. It had been simple fare, just soup and rolls, but he had enjoyed it immensely. The food wasn’t the only thing Paul had taken pleasure in. He actually liked being around Barbara’s boys. All but Aaron. He wasn’t sure he and the boy would ever see eye to eye, but he hoped they could at least come to an understanding, especially if Aaron continued
to help in the harness shop.

Paul was preparing to cut a piece of leather when the shop door opened and Barbara and Aaron stepped into the room. His heartbeat quickened. Every time he was around the woman, he felt more drawn to her. That scared him.

“We thought we’d help out for a few hours,” Barbara said. “That is, if you don’t mind.”

He shook his head. “It’s your shop; you can do whatever you like.” Paul could have bitten his tongue. He hadn’t meant for his words to come out so clipped. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I just meant—”

“Anything in particular you’re needing help with?” she asked.

He nodded toward the back of the shop. “Your daed’s trimming the edges of some leather. When he’s done, they’ll need to be dyed.”

Barbara’s forehead creased. “More black hands for Aaron?”

Paul shrugged. “Maybe you can show him a better way or find some rubber gloves he could wear.”

Barbara nodded. “I think I may have a pair somewhere that will fit him.” She moved away, and Aaron followed.

Paul went back to work on the leather strap he was planning to cut, feeling a sense of irritation he didn’t fully understand. Was it the fact that this was Barbara’s shop and not his that bothered him so much? Maybe his irritation stemmed from her thinking she knew more about dying leather than he did. Well, if she had a better way of doing it that wouldn’t stain the boy’s hands, then she was more than welcome to show him.

Paul gripped the piece of leather in his hands as the truth behind his agitation surfaced and threatened to boil over. Every
time Barbara came out to the shop, even for a short visit, it was a reminder to him that she would soon be back working full-time, taking over
her
shop again. When that happened, there would be no reason for Paul to stay in Webster County. Unless, of course, he could convince Barbara to sell the shop to him. If she married John Frey, she might be willing to.

Paul dropped the hunk of leather on the workbench with a thud.
But I don’t want Barbara to marry the bishop. I want—

What did he want, anyway?

With a grunt of determination, Paul resumed his work. If he kept focused on the job at hand, he wouldn’t have so much time to think about other things. Things he had no right to be thinking about.

A short time later, Barbara returned to the front of the shop. “I think Aaron can manage on his own now,” she said. “So I’m available to help with whatever else needs to be done.”

Paul thought. He didn’t want her doing anything too strenuous, yet he was sure she wanted to feel needed. “How about pressing some grooves into the edges of the straps that have been cut and dyed?”

Barbara nodded. “I can do that. I haven’t worked the pressing machine in some time, but it should feel good to get back at it.”

Paul watched as she moved to the machine and took up her work. He could see by the smile on her face that she loved working in the harness shop.
And who am I to say otherwise? Just because I don’t think this is the kind of work a woman should do doesn’t mean it’s not right for Barbara. Besides, the sooner she gets back to work full-time, the sooner I can return to Pennsylvania
.

Paul shook his head. Who was he kidding? He liked it
here and wished he could stay. He forced his gaze away from Barbara and on to the job at hand. This kind of thinking was dangerous.