The afternoon stole away from Micah. What he wasn’t able to get done before lunchtime, he made up for later. He finished the first glass centerpiece. A green leafy wreath design with clusters of red berries. Micah held the lantern over it and admired the way the glass reflected the glow from the flame. He hoped the bride and groom would be pleased. They certainly paid a premium price for the artwork. When he met with the couple’s wedding planner last week, she had mentioned the possibility of hiring him to make glassware for another wedding around Valentine’s Day.
Micah had never been one to count his sales before delivering the product and getting the final nod of acceptance, but this account was different. If all went according to plan, he would be able to break ground on his own home come spring. His father had given him the back forty acres to build on. He had always assumed he wouldn’t start building until he was married. His two brothers married and left home at twenty-one, his sister at twenty-two. At age twenty-four, Micah was ready to establish his own independence, even though he didn’t plan to go far.
His stomach growled. The lentil soup he’d eaten at lunch hadn’t filled him up. Micah cleaned up his work area and put the tools back in their proper places. He trekked across the yard, the snow crunching underfoot.
The scent of garlic bread and yummasetti met him at the door. He peeled off his coat and hung it on the wall hook. His mouth watered. Since his parents had left town, he’d eaten a few burned meals his grandmother made. Then deciding it’d be safer for her not to cook, he’d requested sandwiches.
He rounded the corner into the kitchen and paused. The sight of Abigail, standing at the stove, removing the tinfoil cover from the pan, made his heart skip a beat. Maybe there was something to that old saying about the way to a man’s heart.
She motioned to the egg noodles and melted cheese. “I hope you’re hungry.”
“Starved.” And half-crazed. His pulse hadn’t been this erratic in years. Not that he wanted to relive that heartache. He would have been married now if Sue Ann’s family hadn’t moved.
Still, the sight of Abigail at the stove—seemingly at home—was enough to catch his breath. Why hadn’t she married? It was no secret that she’d been driven home from every singing she attended. But he had never heard of any of the men asking again, and according to her older brother David, no one had asked to sit with her on his front porch either.
Mammi cleared her throat. “Are you going to gawk at the food all nacht or wash your hands and kumm to the table?”
Micah glanced at the dirt on his hands as he went to the sink.
Abigail carried the pan to the table, set it down, then backed away from the table. “I hope you like it.”
He came up beside her and pulled out the chair next to Mammi. “You’re going to stay and eat with us, aren’t you?”
“I should probably go. It’s getting late.” She moved toward the door.
“Wait,” he said, following her into the foyer. He reached for his coat. “I’ll give you a ride home.”
“Danki, but I’ll be fine. You stay and eat while it’s warm.” She shoved her stockinged foot into her boot.
“Nay. It’s snowing. And it’s dark out. I’m nett going to let you walk home alone this late.”
She nibbled on her bottom lip a half second, then kicked off her boots. “I suppose mei family won’t miss me tonight at the supper table,” she said, hanging her cloak back on the hook. Abigail returned to the table and sat beside Mammi.
The moment they finished silently blessing their food, Abigail began her report. “Edith and I had a gut day. We organized your pantry. It’s alphabetical nau.” She gave an hour-by-hour report of what she and Mammi had done since he’d seen them at noon. The partially assembled jigsaw puzzle on the other end of the table had already hinted to what kept them busy, but her chatter was somewhat amusing. He’d never known anyone not to take a breather between sentences.
His grandmother’s eyes drooped. Tired? Listening to Abigail was a bit daunting. He would probably get an earful once Abigail went home.
Any thoughts he’d had earlier about finding Abigail attractive faded. He didn’t know any man who would want to spend eternity with a woman who talked as much as she did. She had yet to take a bite of her food.
“The meal was gut. Danki.” He pushed away from the table and stood. “I’ll hitch the buggy while you finish eating.”
“I won’t be long,” she said.
“Mammi, would you like to ride along?” He hated the idea of leaving her alone, but he didn’t want her to go out in the cold either.
Mammi shook her head. “I’m going to read for a while and then go to bed.”
“Okay.” He slipped on his coat, lit the lantern, and headed outside. Tomorrow he wouldn’t work this late. Micah harnessed Clover and led him out of the stall. He had the buggy hitched and parked next to the porch when Abigail came outside.
She crawled up on the bench. “You didn’t have to go to this trouble. I could have walked home. We only live a mile apart.”
“I know.” He snapped the reins and Clover lurched forward. Even so, he didn’t want her to walk home in the dark on the snowy roads.
“You don’t talk much, do you?”
He shrugged. “I say what’s necessary.”
“That’s it? Just what’s necessary?” She harrumphed as if that were a sin.
He clicked his tongue and Clover picked up speed.
She crossed her arms and slouched on the seat. “Must be lonely.”
“Nett really. I don’t need to come up with things to say just to hear myself talk.”
She shifted on the bench to face him. “So, you wouldn’t look up at the sky and say something about how bright the stars were?”
“Probably nett.” He slowed Clover down before turning into her driveway. He stopped the buggy next to the house. “Do you make it a habit to talk about everything?”
She smiled. “It’s a gift.”
He chuckled. Only Abigail would consider prattle a gift.
“Don’t laugh. God’s given me a gift of gab and I intend to use it.”
Gift of gab? He laughed harder. Maybe all the talking to herself had scrambled her senses.
“I’m glad you find that funny.” She opened the buggy door and slipped down from the bench.
“Hey, Gabby Abby,” he said as she was about to close the door. “If you had bothered to look up, you would have noticed the stars aren’t out. It’s snowing.”
She lifted her gaze and stared into the darkness. “They’re still there. Under cloud cover, but shining bright nonetheless. How else would the wildlife find their way around in the woods?”
“Gut point.”
“So . . . should I still kumm tomorrow?”
She was a strange one. First she was overly eager to work, and now she sounded unsure. “Have you changed your mind about watching Mammi?”
“Nay, have you changed yours? I know today didn’t go so well, but I promise tomorrow will be better. I’ll make sure your grandmother stays away from the stove and—”
“Abigail, it’s all right.”
“I thought when you came into the haus with the bucket of water, I had lost the job. You weren’t very pleased. I could see that in your eyes. I figured at the end of the day you’d tell me I was done.”
He stared at her lips, which were drawn into a frown. “Is that why you were so anxious to leave?”
She nodded. “I thought if I left while you were eating, you might give me another chance. You are going to give me another chance, jah?”
Did she not listen to anything he said? How much more reassurance did she need?
She crossed her arms over her chest. “There you go, getting quiet again.” She covered her mitted hand over her mouth. “Or . . . you don’t want me to work tomorrow.”
“Why do you want this job so badly?” Micah hoped her eagerness wasn’t in hopes of something more developing between them. She was nice enough—attractive even—but she was also his best friend’s little sister. He wasn’t interested in courting her.
“I’m saving for a horse,” she said.
“A horse?” He coughed into his fisted hand. Not many women in this district owned their own horses. Farmland was scarce and hay was expensive.
“I almost have enough money saved. So, are you going to give me another chance?”
He nodded. “I’ll see you in the morning.” He braced for a squeal that never came. Instead, she pursed her lips and exhaled.
“Danki.” Her smile returned wider and brighter than before. She bounded up the porch steps, paused to wave, then disappeared inside the house.
Micah chuckled to himself as he signaled Clover forward. Abigail Kemp’s sunny disposition was as catchy as the common cold.