CHAPTER SEVEN
Noah had a quiet morning in the shop since Sarah had taken the time off. She’d suggested that with the office work caught up, he might want her to work fewer hours, which seemed reasonable as long as she didn’t mind. She’d probably be needed a bit more at the Miller place in the near future.
The second rocking chair of the pair was nearly finished, and he was looking forward to starting on something new. He had an idea for a desk and bookcase combination that he’d been playing around with. And there was the table he’d put aside.
He’d thought he’d enjoy having the place to himself, but instead he found he was glancing out the window for Sarah’s familiar figure. Funny how quickly he’d gotten used to having her around. At least she wasn’t a woman who had to be talking even when she had nothing to say.
Noah glanced out again, and this time he was rewarded by the sight of her slender figure crossing the yard toward him. Her cheeks were rosy with the cold and her step was light. All in all, she looked like someone happy with her life right now.
Sarah came in, smiling. “I hope I haven’t been gone too long.” She slipped out of her wool jacket and hung it on the hook. Turning toward him, she held up several envelopes. “I was able to pick up quite a bit of information. Dinah Hershberger was helpful, and so was my cousin Jacob.”
“Yah, Jacob’s a gut businessman, just like his daad was. I’d forgotten he’s your cousin. Lots of Millers in the valley, ain’t so?”
“That’s certain-sure.” She came toward him and then hesitated, as if having second thoughts. “Whenever you’d like to look at it, just let me know.”
He couldn’t help smiling at the restraint in her voice. “What are you going to do with all that enthusiasm in the meantime?”
Sarah’s eyes twinkled. “Ach, you’re getting to know me too well. I do love getting started on a new project.”
Maybe she felt the way he did when he worked on a new idea for a piece of furniture. He couldn’t imagine it, but he was willing to admit it might be so. He gave the rocker another rub with a soft cloth and dropped it.
“Let’s put those things out on your desk and you can tell me all about it.” He’d have to be careful not to let her energy carry him away. He wasn’t convinced about this whole idea of advertising. And after all, he’d already found a market for some of his work with Mr. Portman.
Sarah spread papers out and then picked one envelope up again and stuffed it in the desk drawer. “Oops. That’s a letter from my sister. I picked it up from the mailbox on my way over.”
“She’s doing well out west, is she?” The sister was much younger, he knew, and he couldn’t say he remembered her at all.
“Nancy’s newly married. Once I saw her settled as well as the boys, I knew my work was done. Her husband’s a farrier on the side and works with his father in a gut business, and they’re living near his family in Indiana.”
There was a trace of regret in her face as she said the last part of that. It would be hard, he guessed, to have her siblings settled far away. Far more usual to be like him, with all the members of his immediate family living within five miles of him except for one sister. Amish women tended to settle where their husband’s work was, he supposed.
“Jacob and Dinah both advertise in Happenings, and Jacob explained how it worked and sent me over to the print shop to get the details. See, here it is.” She put a sheet in front of him showing different sizes of ads along with a schedule of costs. He read through it, frowning.
“Kind of costly, isn’t it? As I read this, the cheapest thing I could do would cost fifty dollars, with no guarantee I’d see anything back from it.”
“That’s true, but both Jacob and Dinah feel the ads bring in extra customers. After all, customers have to know you’re there before they’ll come into your shop.”
“Most folks around here know where I am.” Maybe he was being a bit stubborn about it, but he didn’t have even fifty dollars to waste.
“Most of the Amish community, yah,” she said promptly. “But what about the Englisch? And the tourists who come in the spring and summer?”
“Maybe.” But to be honest, he hadn’t even thought about who his customers were. How would people outside the Leit know about his business?
“Look at it this way.” Sarah leaned toward him, her face intent. “How many new customers would it take for that fifty dollars to be worthwhile?”
Something else he hadn’t thought about. “One, I suppose,” he admitted. When she put it that way, it became a lot more reasonable. “Okay, we’ll try it. Since you’re so enthusiastic, I take it you know how to go about it.”
Her smile lit up her face. “That’s wonderful gut. I’ll put it all together and show you. I can work on it this afternoon unless there’s something else you want me to do.”
“No, go ahead.” He gave a wry smile. “I wish my sons had as much interest in the business as you do.”
Sarah studied his face for a moment. “How did you become interested in furniture making? That isn’t what your daad does.”
“My Onkel James. He’s the one who was into making things with wood. Not for sale, but just a hobby. He made things for presents mostly. He used to let me come into the workshop and help him with projects.” He glanced around the familiar room where he’d first learned to work with wood. “That’s how it started, and it wasn’t long before I knew that was what I wanted to do.”
Sarah’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “I haven’t seen you do that with Matthew and Mark.”
She said it lightly, as if it meant nothing in particular, but it hit him like a bucket of cold water in his face. Sarah had it right. He didn’t bring the boys into the workshop. At first he’d been afraid they’d hurt themselves, and it was too hard to keep an eye on both of them. Their grandmother usually kept them busy while he worked.
“You know, people might start thinking you have all the answers if you go around hitting the nail on the head like that all the time.”
A pink flush showed in Sarah’s cheeks. “If you’re trying to tell me to mind my own business . . .”
“I’m trying to tell you that you’re right about the boys. I can’t believe I never saw that for myself.” He shook his head at his own obtuseness. “With a gift like that, you ought to have a flock of kids of your own.”
The instant the words were out of his mouth he wanted to take them back. If he’d hurt her feelings . . .
“I’m sorry. I should learn to keep my mouth shut if I’m going to say things like that.”
There was the ghost of a smile on Sarah’s face. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take it as a compliment.” She hesitated for a moment. “Can you guess how many offers of marriage I’ve had?”
Now it was his turn to blush, and he didn’t suppose it was so becoming on him. “I don’t know. A lot.” He hoped that was the right answer.
She shook her head. “Three, actually. All three of them were widowers with families. One had eight kinder already, and he was quite open about it. He didn’t know me himself, but he’d been assured I’d be a wonderful gut mother to them.”
Her light tone eased the tension he’d felt. “It’s too bad there aren’t many single men your age in Promise Glen.”
“According to Dorcas, there’s only one, and he’s my cousin.” She was laughing as she said it, so he guessed she wasn’t that troubled. “Don’t get me wrong. I love young ones. But I think marriage needs more than that.”
“Yah.” The thought of his own marriage left a bitter taste in his mouth. “It does for sure.”
It took another moment before he realized that they were talking like old friends. He’d never thought that could happen with a woman, not after Janie. But maybe he’d been wrong.
USING THE INFORMATION she’d brought back from the print shop, Sarah busied herself with planning possibilities for the ad. She could only hope she hadn’t let her enthusiasm carry her away. Noah obviously had to watch every penny. If he spent the money on her recommendation and then didn’t see any results . . . well, that wasn’t something she wanted to imagine.
She’d brought back several issues of the local magazine, noting how Jacob changed his ad for different months. It hadn’t occurred to her to do that, but now that she saw it, she could understand. Each one had the same basic information about the shop, its location, and what it offered, but each one showcased something different.
Gazing thoughtfully at the finished pieces she’d arranged in a display, she wondered which would work the best to highlight. Maybe something that would make a nice Christmas present, given the time of the year. The small chest, for example. She could imagine a young man giving it to his sweetheart.
By the time she’d completed several possibilities, she heard the twins’ voices outside, along with the low rumble of Noah’s answer. She hadn’t even realized he’d gone outside.
Glancing at the clock, she began putting papers together. Obviously showing these to Noah would have to wait until the next day. He’d be too busy with the boys, and she had promised to meet Dorcas at the schoolhouse to plan the setting and props for the Christmas program.
Slipping into her coat, Sarah snuggled a muffler around her neck against the cold. Since she’d donated her other one to the snowman, she supposed it would have to be laundered before she could use it again. Smiling at the memory, she stepped outside.
By the time Sarah reached the bottom step, both twins were rushing to her. “Sarah, did you see our snowman? He’s melting away.” It was Matthew who spoke, of course, but Mark nodded vigorously.
“Yah, I see. He looks sad, doesn’t he?” Indeed, the snowman sagged as if depressed, and her muffler drooped, dripping.
“Poor snowman,” Matty said.
Mark nudged him. “Don’t call him that.”
The sudden objection was so unlike Mark that Sarah blinked. “Why do you say that, Mark?”
“I know.” Matty wrinkled his nose. “It’s because that’s what she says about us.”
Now she really was confused. “Who says what about you?”
“Elizabeth,” Mark murmured, and then clamped his lips shut as if sorry he’d spoken.
“When she talks about us.” Matthew finished his brother’s thought. “Elizabeth calls us ‘those poor boys.’ We heard her.”
“I see.” This was a tough one. Caution told her not to meddle, but her instinct to help was stronger. After all, they’d said it to her. She hadn’t brought it up. She brushed off the step and sat down, hoping it wasn’t too wet. “Why do you suppose she said that?”
Inside, she was raging at Elizabeth. True, people might foolishly say “poor boys” about them because their mother had left, but it was inexcusable to let them hear it.
Mark stared at his toes, his face a mask of misery. Her heart hurting, she drew them toward her.
“’Cause we don’t have a mammi,” Matty said. “She went away and left us.”
So they knew it. She’d wondered what they might have been told. “Well, I think they’re foolish to say that,” she declared. “Maybe your mammi isn’t here, but you have a daadi who loves you more than anything in the whole world. I think that’s enough for anybody. Don’t you?”
The twins exchanged looks, brightening a little.
“I wouldn’t say ‘poor boys,’” she said. “I’d say ‘smart boys’ or ‘lively boys’ or sometimes ‘silly boys.’ Ain’t so?”
Matty, the more volatile of the twins, grinned engagingly. “Silly,” he said. “That’s what we are.”
She rubbed a gentle hand on Mark’s shoulder. “What about you, Mark? Okay?”
As if in answer, he pressed a little closer against her before drawing back, nodding. Relieved, she saw that the shadow had left his eyes.
She smiled, thankful for the resilience of the young, but still seriously annoyed with Elizabeth. She ought—
Sarah lost the thought, realizing that Noah was standing a few feet away. How long had he been listening? And was she about to be told off for interfering with his children?
But he clapped the boys on their shoulders. “Your snack is ready, and I see Cousin Sally coming. You’d best say good-bye to Sarah and greet your cousin.”
“Bye, Sarah,” they chorused. Looking excited, they raced toward the driveway, where a teenage girl was climbing down from a buggy.
Sarah braced herself, but Noah’s first words were mild enough. “I’m sorry if they delayed you. I told them not to bother you.”
Standing, she brushed off the back of her skirt. “They weren’t bothering me. We were talking.”
“So I heard.” His gaze met hers, and she thought she read pain there. “Denke, Sarah. You said exactly the right thing.”
“I didn’t bring it up,” she said quickly. “But I felt I had to say something. Elizabeth . . .” She stopped, not wanting to voice her opinion.
“Elizabeth means well.” He glanced away. “Anyway, I’ll talk to them again about not bothering you.”
“Please don’t. I enjoy talking with them. Why would you think they bother me?”
“I . . .” He seemed at a loss for an answer. “Well, I’d heard you don’t want to bring up someone else’s kinder, not after raising your siblings. I mean, before we talked about it.”
Somehow she thought she knew who had given Noah that bit of advice. What did Elizabeth hope to gain, anyway? If she was looking for another husband, she must realize that Noah wasn’t free.
“I told you what I feel,” she reminded him. “Just because I won’t marry someone solely to mother his children, that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy kinder. Especially the twins. They always make me smile.”
“Well, gut. That settles it, then.” He hesitated a moment and then said, “Weren’t you going home?”
Without realizing it, she’d started walking toward the lane that led to the school. Laughing, she shook her head. “I guess that does look as if I don’t know where I’m going. No, I have to stop by the school to help Dorcas decide some things about the Christmas program. She’ll wonder what happened to me.”
A smile chased across Noah’s face. “She’ll wonder it about me, too. She asked me to help build the props for the program. So if you’ll wait a minute until I speak to my niece, I’ll walk with you.”
He hurried toward the house, not giving her time to respond. Maybe that was just as well, because what she was thinking was better not shared. What exactly was Dorcas up to? Just wait until she got her alone.
IT WASN’T FAR to walk to the school, and that was just as well, Sarah decided. The silence between them was a little awkward. Or was it just her, because she was afraid Dorcas had manipulated this?
Noah put out a hand to help her negotiate a slushy patch on the lane and then cleared his throat. “About Elizabeth—she means well. Her husband was one of my closest friends.”
Sarah nodded, wondering just how much he’d heard of that conversation with the boys. Did he realize how they felt about Elizabeth? “I’m sure she does . . . mean well, that is.”
“She tries to be helpful, but she doesn’t seem to know how to talk to the boys. Funny, because she’s known them most of their lives.”
So apparently he did realize how the boys felt. “It’s hard to deal with something like that. You want your children to be polite, of course, but you can’t make them like someone. Maybe it’ll be better when they’re older.” She didn’t really think so, but she could be letting her own reaction to Elizabeth affect her judgment.
He shrugged. “I hope.” He glanced at her. “You seemed to know right away how to be friends with them. You must have a gift. I remember your mammi . . .”
Noah hesitated, as if wondering whether it was all right to talk about her.
“Yah, Mammi had that gift, that’s certain-sure. She was always so interested in people. And it was real, not put on.” She smiled, remembering.
“That was it. She always had a smile for each of the kinder when she saw us.” He seemed to study her face. “You’re like her, you know. In looks, but in manner, too.”
“I couldn’t ask anything better.”
It was a nice moment. Maybe Noah realized how much she loved to talk about Mammi, or maybe it was chance, but either way, she appreciated it. Funny. She’d thought at first that he was so introverted he was difficult to talk to. It wasn’t that, she realized. He only talked when he had something to say.
“Here we are.” Noah opened the door for her and wiped his boots on the mat. “Teacher Dorcas will get after us if we make wet tracks in her schoolroom.”
“That’s right, I will.” Dorcas was there to greet them. “So you walked over together—I thought you might.”
“You didn’t tell me Noah was going to be helping, too.” She gave Dorcas a pointed look and got an expression of innocence in return.
“Didn’t I? I guess I didn’t have a chance. I thought Noah was the best person to tackle the carpentry that needs doing for the program.” She waved them to the front of the room, where three chairs were arranged around her desk.
Hanging their jackets in the coatroom, they joined her. Sarah looked around the familiar room, so little changed since she’d been one of the scholars. Different posters, of course, but the arithmetic lesson on the chalkboard even looked like one she’d have struggled with.
“This is my first time working on the program since I was in it,” Noah said. “You’ll have to show me what you want done.”
“No problem.” Dorcas had an encouraging smile. It was the one she’d always used to lead other kids into trouble, as Sarah remembered. “Sarah and I planned what each group will do, and there are just a few props needed for them. The main thing today is to figure out how we can turn this area into a stage.” She gestured toward the front of the room.
“It’s hard to see how you can make it look like anything but a classroom,” Sarah commented. “You can’t get rid of the chalkboard or bulletin boards, although we could move your desk out of the way.”
“Yah, for sure we’ll do that. And I plan to have the scholars decorate the chalkboard and bulletin boards for the Christmas season. Maybe if we had a curtain, but I’ve done that before, and it’s always a hassle to open and close.”
“I’ll say.” Noah chuckled. “I remember one year when the whole curtain fell down on top of the teacher. We got her out from under it all right, but it knocked her kapp off and her hair came down.”
“And you laughed, I’m sure,” Dorcas said with mock severity. “The scholars always think it’s hilarious when the teacher looks foolish.”
“Guilty,” he said, grinning. “So what else could we do?”
“What about a kind of archway?” Sarah stepped back, surveying the front area. “Some sort of frame that we could decorate with greens.”
Dorcas was quick to nod, her eyes sparkling. “That could work. Then each class could step to the middle when it’s their turn to speak.”
Noah followed Sarah, his gaze seeming to measure the width of the room. “How big would it need to be? And how high? I’d have to be sure it was sturdy enough not to topple over, but I might be able to attach it to the side walls.”
Looking toward the ceiling, Sarah visualized it. With a quick movement, she pulled a child’s chair over near a table and climbed up. “About like this, do you think?” She held up her hand. “Or maybe a little higher?” Still gazing upward, she took the large step up to the table.
“Look out.” Noah reached out to steady her, but before she could take his hand the chair wobbled, her weight shifted, and the chair slid out from under her.
She gasped, seeing the floor coming at her, reaching futilely for something to hang on to. But before she could hit, Noah grabbed her. His arms were steady around her, and she felt the strength of his muscles under her hands. Her breath caught, and she seemed to feel her heart pounding in her chest.
“Are you okay?” Noah clasped her arms. “Did your ankle twist?”
Sarah shook her head, unable to speak. That moment, when his arms closed around her, she’d had a surge of emotion that shocked her. Attraction—pure and simple, that lurch deep inside that made her long for his arms around her. She couldn’t deny it. Her cheeks grew hot with embarrassment, and she couldn’t meet his gaze, afraid of what he might see there.
She took a breath, steadying herself with a hand on the table. “I’m fine. Just clumsy, that’s all.”
Noah stepped back, looking relieved, and Dorcas gave her a quick hug.
“Enough excitement. I’ll tell you what I tell my scholars. Chairs are for sitting, not climbing on.”
“Do they obey?” Noah asked, maybe in an effort to ease Sarah’s embarrassment.
“Always,” Dorcas said, and then laughed. “Well, most of the time. Suppose you figure out whether we can build an archway. Sarah can sit down where it’s safe and help me make a list of props.”
Dorcas was amused, and she very obviously had noticed more than Noah had when it came to Sarah’s reaction.
But how could she find it amusing? Attraction might be a natural enough thing, but Sarah had never felt anything so overwhelming in her life. And it was impossible. She couldn’t feel that way. Noah wasn’t free, and very likely he would never be.