For a second, James didn’t respond to Rupert’s obvious hint that once he and Mattie and the boys were gone, James would be free to bring home a wife. From across the table, he could see that Mari was trying not to laugh, her pretty eyes dancing. He almost started laughing himself, though he didn’t know why. This wasn’t a laughing matter. He really was going to have to sit Mattie down and have a talk with her. No underhanded or heavy-handed matchmaking his sister could do was going to sway him. He thought he’d made that clear to her. He wasn’t going to marry Lilly Hershberger or any other girl just to make Mattie happy.
James grinned. “I’m in no hurry to be rid of you,” he told Rupert as he threw out his hand to catch a glass of milk that Roman had just tipped over. James wasn’t fast enough, but fortunately the three-year-old had already drunk most of the milk. James laid his napkin on the puddle as his sister leaped to her feet. “It’s fine,” he said. “I’ve got it.”
“Ne, let me.” Lilly offered James her napkin. “Cleaning up after children is women’s work.”
Calvin nodded. “Let her do it, James. It’s always been that way in our family. Plenty of men’s work outside, ya?”
“I’d say the wisest thing is that the job should go to whoever’s closest,” James replied. “And the one that will end up with milk in his lap if he doesn’t jump fast.” He chuckled, and the others joined in.
“I’m sorry,” Roman murmured in Deitsch.
“No harm done,” James assured his nephew as he eased back into his chair and reached for a bowl of green beans in front of him.
Calvin picked up a serving bowl and held it out to Mari. “Scalloped potatoes?”
“Thanks,” Mari said.
Calvin took a generous helping for himself before passing the dish on to her.
As the evening meal progressed, it didn’t escape James’s notice that Lilly’s cousin Calvin had been admiring Mari since they’d arrived. She had dressed modestly in a dark navy dress that he’d seen her wear before. She had pinned her hair up into a bun at the back of her neck, but she wore no head covering. Not that she should. It was only required for Amish, traditional Mennonites and other religious groups, not the English. But she was wearing nothing revealing, nothing that would not pass a deacon’s scrutiny. She had dark stockings or tights on over her legs and sensible black sneakers. There was no reason for Calvin to keep staring at her, unless he found her attractive.
Not only had Calvin paid more attention to Mari than he should, he’d done a lot of talking to her about his plans to raise ducks commercially and for buying a farm in the area. He’d rambled on at length about the modern house he was looking for, emphasizing that he’d been single long enough and had reached an age to settle down and find a wife.
James glanced at Mari; he hoped she was having a good time. She seemed to like Mattie, and Mattie obviously liked her. If she didn’t, James would have known. His sister was a force to be reckoned with and a woman who liked to have things her way, but in spite of all that he would truly miss her family when they moved into their own house. He loved Mattie and the children dearly, and he was very fond of his brother-in-law. But Mattie never let go of a notion once it had settled over her, and she always had some notion.
James took a bite of scalloped potatoes. Calvin was still talking about ducks. It was a shame that he and Lilly were related, because they would have suited each other. Calvin and Lilly both liked to talk about themselves best.
Calvin seemed nice enough, but it was obvious that he wasn’t right for Mari. James seriously doubted that Calvin would understand the responsibility that came with taking a wife who had a nine-year-old son. The wrong husband and stepfather, and life would be unhappy for all three of them.
Rupert, probably tired of hearing about ducks, cleared his throat as Calvin took a breath and spoke quickly to get in before Calvin got wound up again. “How’s the addition at Sara Yoder’s going, James?”
“Well.” He nodded, wishing he’d gotten up to get a clean napkin. He hoped he didn’t have any potato in the corner of his mouth. He tried to wipe at it inconspicuously. “I opened the new rooms to the main house this morning.”
“James is a wonderful carpenter.” Lilly beamed at James. “He does beautiful work. Everyone says so.”
“He’s promised to build the cabinets for our new house,” Rupert said. Emanuel chose that moment to slide from his stool to try to dive under the table. His father caught him by the back of the shirt collar and helped him firmly, but gently, back into his seat. “Sit still, son,” he warned, “or no pie for you.”
“Lilly brought two cherry pies for dessert,” Mattie said. “Her cherry pie raised twenty-two dollars at the last school fund-raising.”
Unfair, James thought. Mattie knew cherry was his favorite pie. He never could resist it, and he suspected that his sister had put Lilly up to baking it. He should have been pleased, but he felt like a shoat that was being funneled down a ramp into the slaughter room at the back of the butcher shop. Next Mattie would be talking about spring weddings.
“Muscovy or Runners. Both good layers,” Calvin announced to the table and then moved on to the subject of different breeds of ducks and the possibility of finding a market for duck eggs.
James could see that Mari was trying to pay attention, but her eyes were beginning to glaze over. So much for the duck farmer, James thought. He’s duck soup.
Eventually, Mattie took pity on them all and asked Mari about the different style of the women’s prayer kapps in Wisconsin, and Mari gratefully gave her a detailed description of the head covering. Calvin, undeterred by his hostess’s attempt to change the subject, asked Mari if she’d ever baked with duck eggs. When she admitted she hadn’t but had seen her aunt use them in custards, Calvin seized the topic and explained why the larger duck egg was superior to a chicken’s in bread pudding.
Somehow they made it through the supper, one twin’s wailing, the cherry pies and a lopsided German chocolate cake that Mattie had baked, and Roman and Emanuel’s protests at being sent to bed. The rest of the evening went fairly well, and James was just beginning to think about suggesting he hitch up Jericho to take Mari home. He’d had such a good time riding over with her that he’d been looking forward to the ride home all evening. Then Calvin beat him to it and offered to drive her home.
“We’re going right past Sara’s house,” Calvin explained. “It would be foolish for James to go out when there’s plenty of room in our buggy.”
“It’s not a problem,” James said.
“Ne,” Lilly chimed in. “James has to be hard at work at Sara’s early tomorrow morning. We’re glad to see her home. I insist.”
A few minutes later, James followed Mari and the others out the door, amid a flurry of thank-yous and “You must come again soon,” and helped her into the back of Lilly’s father’s family buggy.
“I hope you enjoyed yourself,” James said to Mari as he found the lap robe under the seat and handed it to her. “I warned you that it would be chaotic.”
“I had a great time.” She smiled down at him. “The children are adorable.”
“Even Emanuel?”
She chuckled. “Especially Emanuel.”
James wanted to say something about the fact that he was sorry he wasn’t going to get to drive her home, but he didn’t know how to say it, so he just said goodbye. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She smiled at him again, and James wished the evening wasn’t over.
James returned to the kitchen to find Mattie settled down in her rocker near the stove, feeding the babies. He grabbed a clean dishcloth and started wiping off the table.
“So, James,” Rupert said, a broom in hand. “Are you planning on asking Lilly to walk out with you?”
Mattie sighed. “Men.” She rolled her eyes. “Not a clue. Didn’t you see them together?” she asked her husband, though not unkindly. “I had high hopes, but James is as flighty as a yearling steer in fly season. He’s not interested in courting Lilly.”
Rupert paused to look at James. “I thought you were tired of the bachelor life.”
“Lilly would make any man a fine wife.” James leaned on the table to look back at his brother-in-law. “I like her, but that’s not enough to make me choose her as my partner for life.”
Mattie sniffed. “It’s Mari Troyer who’s caught his eye.”
James glanced at her.
“Don’t give me that innocent look of yours,” she cautioned. “I saw the looks you two were giving each other across the table...and the dirty looks you were giving Calvin.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” James wiped down the chair Roman had been sitting in, catching the crumbs with his hand. “But someone needs to tell that boy that there’s only so much duck information a person can handle in one sitting.”
“Don’t try to skitter away from the subject,” Mattie warned. “You like Sara’s Mari.”
“Of course I like her.” James carried his handful of crumbs to the trashcan. “She’s my friend.”
“Just a friend?” Mattie asked. “The way you were watching her all evening? I’m afraid that it’s more than just friendship there, brother.”
“Oooh, getting warm in here.” Rupert propped his broom against the wall. “Let me have those babies, Mattie, if they’re asleep. I’ll just carry them upstairs and tuck them into their cribs.” Gathering up both babies, he gave James a glad-it’s-not-me-in-hot-water look and made himself scarce.
“Don’t you like her, Mattie?” James said quietly after his brother-in-law had left the room. “It seemed to me as if you two got on fine tonight.”
Mattie rose and went to him, placing both hands on his shoulders. “Of course I like her. She’s a good person. But you seem to be forgetting that Mari’s not Amish. She walked away from the church.”
“So did I, but I came back.” He studied her face; she had their mother’s eyes. “You saw Mari in church this week. Sara thinks she’ll return to the faith. And so do I.”
Mattie squeezed his arm. “You know how much I’ve always loved you and wanted what was best for you.”
“I do.” His voice came out thick and full of emotion. He loved Mattie, too, deeply, and he never wanted to hurt her. But sometimes they didn’t see eye to eye, and he refused to give in to her just because he loved her. “And I gave you my word that I was back for good. I won’t marry outside the church. You don’t need to worry about that.”
“How can I not worry?”
“I’m not the little brother who needs you to care for his skinned knees anymore. I’m a grown man, and I can take care of myself.”
“It’s not your knees I’m worried about. I’m afraid you’re going to get your heart broken.” She gazed up at him, her eyes teary in the lamplight. “Even if Mari does come back and accept baptism, how will you know that she won’t leave again? Leave and take your children with her? Then you’d have to go, wouldn’t you?”
“You have to trust me, Mattie. I know you mean well, but I’ll pick my own wife when I’m good and ready.”
“But not an Englisher. Promise me that,” she begged. “And promise me that you’ll think about what you’re doing with Mari, the risk you’re taking. You know, when I started to come of courting age, our dat warned me never to walk out with a man I wouldn’t marry. I think it was wise advice.”
“I’m not walking out with Mari. Mattie, you’re the one who told me to invite her to supper. Tonight was just a supper with friends.”
She gave him a look that made it clear she wasn’t buying it. “Promise me,” she repeated.
He exhaled. “I promise you I’ll always take into consideration what you have to say. I value your advice, but in the end, the decision is mine. And you can rest your mind on one thing. I’d never consider an English girl.”
“Have it your way,” she said, releasing him and retracing her steps to the rocking chair. “Stay friends with Mari. And I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with that. But find yourself a good Amish girl, someone who’s never strayed from the fold, someone who will help you put down roots in this community. Marriage isn’t just between a man and a woman. When you make your wedding vows, you marry a family, a community, and you make a commitment to your future children and grandchildren.” Her gaze locked with his, and he felt the strength of her conviction. “Mari Troyer is a good woman and a good mother, but I don’t want her as a sister-in-law. You think about that, James. And if you’re wise, you won’t let this friendship of yours go any deeper.”
* * *
When business picked up late in the afternoon at the butcher shop, Mari left her desk in the office and went out to help wait on customers. She didn’t mind the change of pace. She’d been working on orders and taking phone calls all day. Wrapping meat and ringing up sales was easy. She was just checking out a nice English woman with a toddler when she spotted James coming through the front door. Just catching sight of him made her smile. “Hi,” she called to him. She handed the customer her receipt and her bag. “Thanks, come again,” she told the customer.
James waited for the woman to walk away and then came to the counter. “I’d like four center-cut pork chops and two pounds of bacon, please,” he said. “Mattie wants thick, lean chops.”
“Sure.” He was grinning, though why she didn’t know. She couldn’t help but grin back. “I’ll be happy to get that for you. How was your day?” she asked as she pulled on clear plastic gloves and opened the meat display.
“Good. Good.” He nodded. “Sara’s addition is coming along. We’ll be done before you know it. How about you?” He watched her place the chops on a piece of butcher paper on the scale. “Good day?”
“Great.” And having him pop in like this made it better, but she didn’t say that, of course.
He glanced at the big clock on the wall. “Don’t you usually leave around this time?”
“About this time,” she told him as she wrapped up his chops.
He nodded and slid his hands into his pockets. “Business good?”
“Picking up every day,” she answered.
“Seems like you’ve settled in fast. Thomas mentioned to me that Gideon told him you were a great worker.” He picked up a box of crackers from beside the register, looked at them and put them back. “I was wondering if you’d like a ride home to Sara’s.”
She looked up from the register at him in surprise. “That’s nice of you to offer. I was going to take the van. They leave in half an hour.” She gave him the total of his purchase.
James slid bills across the counter. “I know you can ride home with them, but I’m saying you should ride home with me. I have to stop at Byler’s store, for Mattie. And Sara wants half-and-half for something, so I have to go by there on the way home anyway.” He reached for the pork chops. “I figured you might like to go. You said you were getting your first paycheck.”
“I don’t know.” She chewed on her lower lip. “Zachary might wonder where I am if I’m late,” she said, although she really did want to go. To pick up a few things, of course. Not just so she could ride home with James.
“Funny you should say that because Sara said to remind you that Zachary and Ellie would be late this afternoon. Something about an errand at Johanna and Roland’s. So you don’t need to worry about him.”
“You told Sara you were picking me up?” she asked.
“I told her I was going to ask you.”
Mari stood there, not sure what to do. She did want to buy deodorant and shampoo, and this would be the perfect opportunity. If she went with James now, she wouldn’t have to try to catch a ride into town with someone in their neighborhood tomorrow.
Byler’s was a Mennonite country store that had started out as a discount grocery and had grown to include kitchen goods, fruits and vegetables, frozen food and cold cuts. It was as large as many English chain groceries, and the prices were reasonable. Best of all, it was only two miles from the butcher shop.
James tucked the packet of chops under his arm. “Come on. You know you want to go. What’s wrong with taking a ride from a friend?”
“Nothing, I suppose. Not a thing wrong with it,” she said when she met his reassuring gaze. “But I have something I have to finish in the office. Can you wait ten minutes?”
He smiled. “And not five minutes longer.”
She grimaced as she pulled off her apron and hurried toward the back to close out the last order of the day. “You’ve found my weakness,” she called over her shoulder. “I tend to run late.”
“Not for Byler’s tonight, we don’t. You run late and you’ll miss your chance for me to buy you one of the best ice-cream cones in the county. They close at six o’clock in the winter, and it will be mobbed the last half hour.”
They arrived at the store a little after five o’clock, and it was packed. The English shoppers, mostly senior citizens, outnumbered the Amish three to one, but she saw plenty of Mennonite and Amish families shopping. There was even a young Amish father shopping alone with an adorable little pigtailed girl in his cart and a four-year-old boy walking beside him. The girl wore a blue dress, black stockings and black boots, and a tight-fitting white baby kapp, while the boy was an exact copy of his father. Mari couldn’t resist, and she waved and said hi in Deitsch. Shyly, the small boy hid his face in his father’s pant leg, but his sister smiled and waved back.
James gave her a quick tour of the store; then they went their separate ways so he could pick up the spices and the raw sugar Mattie had requested. Mari grabbed what she needed and met him at the registers. By the time she got there, he had just paid for his items.
“I’ll run these out and get our ice-cream cones—before they close,” he told her.
“It’s all right—we don’t need ice cream. We’ll spoil our supper,” she teased, pushing her little cart forward in the checkout line.
“Never. It’s like an appetizer,” he insisted, tugging the brim of his black hat down. “And I already paid for them. Meet you right here in a couple of minutes.” He backed away from her toward the door. “What flavor would you like?”
“Surprise me,” she replied and shook her head, laughing as he hurried out the door.
A short time later James met her at the front of the store with two huge ice-cream cones. “That’s more ice cream than we can possibly eat,” she told him, unable to stop smiling.
“Bet it’s not. Chocolate mint chip or butter pecan?” He held out the cones for her to choose.
It took her a second to decide because she loved both. “Chocolate mint chip,” she declared.
He handed her the cone. “Want me to take your bag?”
“No, I’m fine.” She found the ice cream to be every bit as creamy and delicious as he had described it on the way over.
“We can sit at one of those picnic tables,” he told her, leading the way to a small eating area that was set up at the front of the store.
“That’s fine.” She followed him.
“And then we’ll head home.”
“Thank you,” she said between bites when they were seated across from each other at one of the tables. “This is delicious.” She was so glad that she’d come. Being with James was fun, and she found him so easy to talk to. She felt as if she could be herself with him. He made her comfortable with who she was, the good and the bad. “Be certain to tell Mattie how much I enjoyed her meal,” she reminded him.
“I will. You know, she really likes you,” he said. Then it seemed as if he wanted to say something more.
She took another lick of her cone and reached for the napkin holder in the center of the table. “But?”
He exhaled. “I probably shouldn’t even say this but... I feel like we can tell each other anything. I mean, I know we haven’t known each other long, but—”
“But I get you. And you get me,” she dared, not knowing what made her so bold to say such a thing. After all, they really hadn’t known each other long. And what’s more, their friendship wasn’t typical. Amish men weren’t usually friends with English women. They didn’t shop or sit down to eat ice cream together. She passed him one of the napkins. “Tell me what Mattie said.”
He exhaled. “She’s worried that you could be a bad influence on me. Actually, I think she’s worried that we’ll be a bad influence on each other.”
Mari frowned. “How?”
“I don’t know. I’m not saying it makes sense. It’s just what she said. She thinks that my being friends with you will make me want to return to the English world.”
Mari thought for a moment before responding. It was upsetting to think that Mattie was concerned about her friendship with James, but she was glad he had told her. She could tell that it had been weighing on his mind. “Do I make you wish you were English again?”
He gave her a little smirk that made him look younger than he was. “Not hardly. I’ve had my fill of pickup trucks and wide-screen TVs. I belong in these clothes.” He indicated his hat and denim coat. “Driving that buggy.” He pointed to Jericho waiting patiently in the parking lot.
“James, I don’t want to cause trouble between you and your sister,” she said. “And it’s certainly not my intention to convince anyone to leave Seven Poplars. I mean, I’m the one who came here from the big, bad world, and I have to admit, the change has been really nice. I like my life at Sara’s and I like Seven Poplars.” Certainly better than the life she’d had in Wisconsin.
“I told Mattie that.”
She thought again for a minute. She was down to the crunchy cone now. “You said she thought we were a bad influence on each other, but you’re definitely not a bad influence on me.” She hesitated. “You know, I think I went to church Sunday mostly because you wanted me to.” She smiled. “But I’m so glad I did.”
“I’m glad you came, too. Now, I don’t want you to turn into a worrier. I told my sister that I choose my own friends and I meant it.”
Mari picked up her napkins and wiped her mouth, trying to ignore the small twinge of disappointment. James had used that word again. Friend.
“James?” A tall, angular woman in a black dress and bonnet walked out of the checkout area. “I’m surprised to see you here at this time of the day. Cut out early, didn’t you?” She was speaking to James but staring at Mari.
Mari recognized her as Gideon’s mother-in-law, Martha.
“And Mari Troyer. I’m surprised to see you here.” Her voice was as grating as fingernails across a blackboard. “Is Sara with you?”
Mari could tell by the woman’s tone of voice that she knew very well that Sara wasn’t with them. “She’s not,” Mari managed.
“Ellie?” Martha demanded.
James shook his head, finishing up his ice-cream cone and wiping his mouth with one of the napkins Mari had given him. “Afraid not.”
Martha pursed her lips. “So you’re here together? Unchaperoned?”
James chuckled. “Guilty, Martha.”
Martha frowned, unfazed by James’s charm. “You haven’t been in Seven Poplars long, Mari,” she said, turning to her again. “Not long at all. And I don’t know what kind of rules you had in Wisconsin. But here, it’s best if a young woman doesn’t give others a reason to question her behavior.” She glanced back at James. “Unless the two of you are courting and I haven’t heard?”
She raised her eyebrows at James, and Mari was surprised when he didn’t answer.
“Well,” Martha huffed. Then she cleared her throat. “You know, Mari, some may think I’m a gossip, but I’m not. I’m just a woman who likes to speak her mind. So I’m coming right out and asking.” She looked at James again. “Are you two walking out together?”
James got to his feet. “We’re just buying groceries, Martha. I was coming to Byler’s, and Mari needed a ride. The most scandalous thing we’ve done is eat ice cream before supper. But thank you for your concern.” He balled up his napkin and tossed it in a trash can.
Martha drew herself up to her full height, and her eyes narrowed. “No need to get snippy with me, young man. I’m simply trying to point out to Mari that it’s easy for a girl to be talked about. And Seven Poplars is not Hollywood.”
Not sure what to say, Mari said nothing. She didn’t want to get James in trouble. Martha held up her hand as if making a proclamation. “Enough said. Next time you’ll know better. I’m surprised that Sara didn’t have the sense to explain these things to you, Mari. But James certainly should have known better.” She turned her censorious gaze on him. Then with a final sniff, Martha grabbed her shopping cart and walked out the doors to the parking lot.
Mari looked at James and saw that he was pressing his lips tightly together to keep from laughing out loud. “Shh,” she warned. Then she giggled. It really wasn’t funny. Martha would tell everyone she knew, and probably people she didn’t, that she had seen Mari and James having ice cream alone together. But seeing James laugh made it hard for Mari not to laugh.
Her groceries in one arm, he tugged on her coat sleeve and led her outside and around to where they’d left Jericho and the buggy parked.
“Stop laughing,” she told him under his breath. “She’ll tell Mattie, and then you’ll be in trouble.”
“I won’t be in trouble.” He took her hand to help her up into the buggy and leaned close to whisper in her ear. “But you certainly will be,” he teased.
She sat down on the buggy seat, but he was still holding her hand. He leaned in so no one walking past them could overhear. “You’re the one leading me astray, remember? First you sold me pork chops, unchaperoned, and now this.”
Mari looked down at James and was so overwhelmed by the feel of his hand and his closeness that she suddenly felt dizzy. And happy. And guilty and scared and bold, all at the same time. “Get in the buggy,” she whispered. “Before she comes back and insists on riding home with us.”
He took one look at her and burst into laughter. She pushed him away playfully. “Get in the buggy.”
He put her bag in the back and climbed up onto the seat beside her. As he picked up the reins, he leaned close to Mari and said, with a straight face, “Seven Poplars is not Hollywood.”
And then they both burst out laughing.
“Seriously,” James said as he guided his horse out onto the roadway. “Don’t let her upset you. Like I told you before, it may not seem like it, but Martha means well. And until you’ve been properly chastised by Martha, you haven’t really become part of the community.”
Mari wiped away the tears of laughter from the corners of her eyes, liking the idea that he now considered her part of his community. “Are we really supposed to be chaperoned to ride to the grocery store?”
“Only in Martha’s mind. Neither of us is sixteen. And you’re not even Amish. Of course if we were courting—” he looked at her “—I suppose we’d have to follow at least some of the rules.”
Mari suddenly felt self-conscious and pretended to be absorbed in rewrapping her wool scarf. She couldn’t tell if James was being serious or not. And, worse, she didn’t know which she preferred.