On Her Own (18 page)

“But I’ll be late for work,” Betty said as she reached for her lunch pail sitting on the counter near the door.

“This will only take a minute.”

Betty and Nadine took a seat, and the two youngest girls dried their hands and did the same.

John cleared his throat a couple of times.

“What’s wrong, Papa? Have you got something caught in your throat?” Mary questioned with a worried frown.

“Do you need a drink of water?” Nadine asked.

He shook his head. “I’m fine. Just trying to think of the best way to say what’s on my mind.”

The girls stared at him with curious expressions.

He drew in a sharp breath and released it quickly. “The thing is. . .your mamm’s been gone over half a year now, and things have been kind of confused around here without her.”

The girls nodded soberly.

“And I’ve concluded that I need another wife—someone who’ll make a good mudder for all of you.”

Betty’s eyebrows shot up, Nadine’s mouth dropped open, and the two youngest girls stared at him with wide-eyed expressions. Betty spoke up. “I don’t think we need a new mother, Papa. Me and the sisters are getting along just fine.”

The other three girls nodded.

“No one could ever take our mamm’s place,” Nadine put in.

John gripped the edge of the table. He was botching things up badly and needed to think of something to say that would smooth things over with his girls. “Of course no one could ever take your mamm’s place. She was a loving mudder and a
faithful
fraa
. Your mamm will always be with us in here,” he said, touching his chest with the palm of his hand.

The girls’ heads bobbed up and down in agreement.

“Even so,” he continued, “I think it would do well for me and be good for you if I got married again.”

Betty leaned forward, her elbows on the table, as she gazed at him. “Have you got someone in mind?”

He nodded. “Barbara Zook.”

“What?” Betty and Nadine said in unison.

“I said—”

“But, Papa, Barbara’s a lot younger than you, and—”

John held up his hand to halt Betty’s words. “Your mamm wanted to give me more kinner, but that didn’t happen because we lost her to cancer.” He drew in another quick breath. “Barbara’s still in the childbearing years, and she’s got four kinner of her own, so she would not only be a suitable wife, but she could give me those kinner your mamm wanted me to have.”

The girls’ mouths dropped open, and they stared at him as if he’d taken leave of his senses.

He shifted in his chair. The air had become so thick he thought he could have sliced right through it if he’d had a knife in his hands. Maybe he’d said too much. It might have been better just to state the obvious—that he needed a wife and they needed a mother.

“Have you already asked Barbara to marry you?” Nadine questioned.

His face heated up. “Well, I did make mention of it.”

Betty’s pale eyebrows drew together. “Don’t you think we should have some say in this?”

He puffed out his cheeks. “That’s why we’re talking about it now.”

Betty shook her head. “But we’re not really talking about it, Papa. You’re telling us what we need and saying you’ve already spoken to Barbara about marrying you. It doesn’t sound to me like our opinion matters much at all.”

John opened his mouth to reply, but Hannah cut him off. “Has Barbara agreed to marry you?”

He shook his head. “She said she’d think on it, that’s all.”

“Do her boys know about this?” The question came from Mary.

“I don’t think so. . .unless Barbara decided to mention it to them after I left her place the other day.” John reached out and touched the plastic wrap surrounding the loaf of bread sitting in front of him. “Barbara’s been trying to run her husband’s harness shop for nearly a year now—ever since he died. And it’s getting harder for her to keep up with things, which is why she had to hire Paul Hilty to help out. What Barbara needs is a husband to care for her and the boys. She needs someone to protect her from. . .” His voice trailed off, and he turned to look at the clock on the far wall. It was past time for Betty to leave for work. He needed to wrap this conversation up so both he and she could be on their way.

“Protect her from what, Papa?” Nadine asked.

“From anyone who might want to take advantage of her.” John pushed away from the table and stood, snatching up the loaf of bread. “I’d better get going, and so should Betty. If Barbara has an answer for me today, then tonight I’ll let you all know what she said.”

Paul had just entered the back room and was looking over an old saddle when he heard the front door of the shop creak open and then click shut.

“I’m back here, Barbara,” he called.

A few seconds later, Aaron came into the room. “It’s me, not my mamm,” he said with a frown.

“Guder mariye,” Paul responded, hoping the greeting would wipe the scowl off the boy’s face.

“Mornin’,” Aaron mumbled.

“Where’s your mamm?”

“Had to feed the baby. Said she’d be here soon.”

Paul reached for a clean rag and handed it to Aaron. “Why don’t you rub this saddle down with some neat’s-foot oil while I take care of a few other things?”

Aaron responded with a muffled grunt, but he did take the rag.

“If you need me, I’ll be up front at my desk looking over some work orders.”

“It ain’t
your
desk,” Aaron muttered. “It belonged to my daed.”

Paul blew out an exasperated breath. Wouldn’t the boy ever lower his defenses? Couldn’t he see that Paul wasn’t his enemy?

“I know it’s not my desk,” Paul said. “It was just a figure of speech.”

No reply.

Paul stood there a few seconds; then he shrugged and went
to the desk.
I sure hope Barbara gets here soon. Then she can deal with Aaron
.

Forty-five minutes later, Barbara finally showed up. “Sorry I’m late,” she said breathlessly. “I got the boppli fed okay, but then he wouldn’t burp.”

“No problem,” Paul replied, barely looking up from the papers on the desk.

“Is everything going okay?”

“I guess so.”

“What have you got Aaron doing?”

“Oiling a saddle in the other room.” Paul craned his neck in that direction. “It sure is taking him awhile to get it done, though.”

“Maybe he finished up and found something else to do.”

“I didn’t give him any other chores.”

“Would you like me to check on him?” Barbara asked.

“Sure.”

She took a step toward the back room but turned around and leaned over the desk. “Are there any new work orders I should know about?”

When Paul brought his head up, it connected with Barbara’s.

“Ouch!” they said in unison.

“Sorry.” Paul rubbed his forehead; then instinctively, he placed his fingers against her head. “Are you okay?”

“I think so.”

“I don’t feel a lump anywhere,” he said, swallowing hard. Being this close to Barbara made his heart pound and his hands sweat.

She stared at him with an anxious expression; then she
reached out and touched his forehead. “You, on the other hand, do have a little bump.”

Barbara’s fingers felt cool, and Paul’s heart pounded even harder when he noticed the tender look in her eyes. An unexpected flame ignited in his chest, and he fought against the sudden urge to kiss her. “I. . .uh. . .it’s nothing to worry about,” he mumbled.

Barbara pulled her hand away, but her touch lingered in his mind. His arms ached to hold her. His lips yearned for the touch of hers. This wasn’t good. Not good at all.

Paul grabbed a work order off the top of the pile. “This one’s the most recent,” he said, handing the piece of paper to Barbara and hoping his trembling hands wouldn’t betray his feelings.

She pursed her lips as she studied it. “Is this one for the saddle Aaron’s working on?”

He nodded.

Her eyebrows drew together. “But this says Harold Shaw wants the saddle repaired, not oiled or cleaned. Haven’t you got Aaron doing something completely unnecessary?”

Paul sat up straight as the feelings of tenderness he’d had for Barbara dissolved like a block of ice left sitting in the sun. What right did she have to question him like this? Didn’t the woman realize it was good business to clean and oil a saddle that had been brought in for repair? He opened his mouth to say so, but she spoke first.

“David always asked the customers if they wanted something cleaned or oiled. If they did, he wrote it on the work order so I would know. If not, then we didn’t do it.” She blinked a couple of times. “I don’t see any point in doing something not asked for when there’s lots of other work to be done.”

A muscle in Paul’s cheek quivered, and he reached up to massage the spot.

Barbara placed her hand on her hip and stared at him. “Your silence makes me wonder if you disagree with that practice.”

He shrugged. “This is
your
harness shop. Who am I to say anything about the way you do business?”

She tipped her head. “After working together these past few weeks, I think we know each other well enough to be honest. I’d like it if we could express our thoughts and concerns, not clam up or become defensive.”

He pushed the chair away from the desk and stood. “I’d say you’ve expressed your thoughts clear enough for the both of us.”

When he started to walk away, she stepped in front of him. “I think we need to talk about this.”

“I don’t think there’s much to be said.” He grunted. “You see things one way, and I see them another. You’re the boss. I’m just helping out until you’re back working full-time.”

“I would like to hear your reason for oiling the saddle without Harold having asked to have it done.”

Paul reached up to rub his forehead. That bump from their heads colliding hurt more than he realized. Either that or he was getting a headache caused by stress.

“Paul?”

“Jah?”

“Are you going to share your thoughts on this or not?”

“I don’t see how it’ll do much good.”

“Please.”

He motioned for her to sit in the chair at the desk. When she complied, he leaned over and pointed to the stack of work
orders. “If you’ll look through these, you’ll see that some of them are from customers who have returned more than once since I started working here.”

“And?”

“After their first order, they found other things for me to do. Things they said they’d originally planned to do themselves.”

“Then why didn’t they?”

“Some said I had done such a thorough job on their previous order, they decided to bring in a second or third item.”

She turned in her chair and nodded slowly. “I see what you mean.”

“My cousin Andy taught me that doing a little something extra for a customer makes for good business.”

“I guess you’re right. I should have realized that.” Barbara’s dark eyes took on a faraway look. “I’m sure David tried to please our customers. But sometimes, when we got real busy, he might not have thought to do the little extra things.”

Paul smiled, feeling somewhat better. “I’m sure David was good at his job. He and you made this business succeed.”

She returned his smile. “Danki.”

Paul touched her shoulder. “Barbara, I—”

His words were cut off when the front door opened and in walked Bishop John Frey.

“Guder mariye, John,” Barbara said when the bishop entered her shop. “What brings you here today? Did you need a new harness made, or do you have one that needs to be repaired?”

Paul stepped aside as the bishop walked up to the desk and offered Barbara a wide smile. “Came to see about getting a new bridle for one of my driving horses.” He held out the paper sack he had in his hand. “Also wanted to give you this.”

Barbara took the sack and peered inside at a loaf of bread that appeared to have a very dark crust. She guessed it must have been baked too long. Certainly not the kind of baked goods she was used to getting from Noah Hertzler.

“Betty made it,” John said with a crooked grin. “I figured with you back here working again, you probably wouldn’t have much time for baking.”

“I’m managing with my mamm’s help, but I appreciate the gesture. Tell your daughter I said danki.”