A Husband For Mari (The Amish Matchmaker 2) (13 page)

James chuckled. “Didn’t you ever play in a hayloft when you were a kid?”

“I did,” she admitted. “It was a favorite spot for me and my girl cousins to play house.”

“And you never fell out of the loft window?”

She shook her head. “No, I didn’t, but it’s different when it’s my child. And boys do fall, and sometimes they get hurt.”

His eyes filled with understanding. “They do, but it’s part of growing up. You can’t protect him from everything. You have to learn to trust Zach’s judgment. He’s got a pretty good head on his shoulders.”

“I know he does,” she agreed. She headed for the porch. “You have time to sit a minute, or are you on your way out?”

James settled onto the porch swing as she took the rocker across from him. “I always have time for you.”

Chapter Twelve

M
ari stood at the kitchen window, her coffee mug in her hand. Hiram had already gone to hitch the buggy to go to church services at Roman and Fanny Byler’s, and she was just waiting for Sara and Ellie. Zachary had spent the night at Johanna and Roland’s and would meet her at church.

Mari watched as a bit of straw blew across the yard. The last of the snow had melted and the first green shoots of spring were popping up everywhere. The day before she’d spotted crocuses at the mailbox. She thought about how cold it had been when she’d left Wisconsin; it had felt as though she would never see the sun again. But here it was, with the first warm rays of the coming spring.

Her life seemed to be transforming with the weather. A short time ago she’d been in Wisconsin with no job, no home and no real hope. Then she’d come to Seven Poplars and everything had changed. Sara and the whole community had made her and Zachary feel so welcome. Her job was great, and Zachary had settled in at the little Amish school, doing better than he’d ever done in a public school. And now she was taking classes with the bishop and making plans to join the church.

She was happier than she had ever dreamed she could be. And yet there was still something missing. In the past week Mari had twice almost spoken to Sara about the courtship with James proposed by the mysterious benefactor. Now that she had decided to join the church, it only made sense to let Sara try to make the match.

But there was a part of Mari that still held back. She had no doubts about her feelings for James. She knew she loved him; with each passing day that became more evident. And even though they were both content to call each other “friend,” she knew that he had feelings for her, as well. But what if it was all her imagination? What if Sara went to him and proposed the courtship and he said no?

The truth was, she was madly in love with James.

Which made her question her decision to join the church. What if somehow, subconsciously, she was thinking she felt God’s love, when it was James’s love she sought?

From somewhere in the house, Ellie’s and Sara’s voices drifted down. Mari was dressed for church in a beautiful blue dress Sara had made for her in the Amish style. She wasn’t wearing a prayer
kapp
yet, but Sara had made her a scarf in matching blue fabric. With dark stockings and black leather shoes and her hair up under the scarf, no Englisher would have known she wasn’t Amish.

Suddenly she felt overwhelmed. What if she was just playing dress-up? What if God wasn’t really calling her? What if she was going to church and meeting with the bishop just because of James? What if she was wrong about her newfound faith?

Footsteps sounded in the living room: Sara’s followed by Ellie’s.

“Ready,” Sara called.

When Sara walked into the kitchen, Mari backed up to the sink. Suddenly she didn’t fell so well.

“We should go. Hiram’s waiting,” Sara said as she crossed the kitchen.

“Oh, good.” Ellie tied on her black bonnet over her prayer
kapp
as she hurried behind Sara. “He’s already loaded the vegetable soup and brownies. The soup will go well on a chilly spring day like this.” She caught Mari’s eye and halted. “Are you feeling all right?”

Mari pressed her hand to her forehead. “Actually... I don’t think I am.”

“Oh, dear.” Sara sighed, throwing her black cloak over her shoulders. “That’s the downside to working in a store. So many people. So many germs.”

Ellie frowned, looking at Mari. “Do you think you have a fever? You look flushed.”

“I...” Mari lowered her hand. “I don’t think so, but I think I better stay home. Just in case,” she added, feeling a little guilty. While she did feel light-headed and flushed, she knew it wasn’t from a bug she’d caught at the store. “Will you just bring Zachary home with you this afternoon?”

Sara stood in the doorway, watching her closely. “Of course. But one of us can stay here with you, if you like.”

“Oh no. I’ll be fine.” She waved them off. “I wouldn’t want you to miss service on my account. Go, and tell everyone I said hello.”

Sara met Mari’s gaze and Mari had to fight the urge to squirm. She really didn’t feel as if she could go to church this morning. Her thoughts were too jumbled for worship.

“See you this afternoon, then,” Sara called as she went out the door.

“Have some hot tea,” Ellie advised.

Mari watched them go and then tied an apron over her pretty new dress. She’d clear the breakfast dishes, set the table for the evening meal and then maybe she’d go lie down for a while. Give herself some time to think. She’d have most of the day to herself. It was rare to have time where nothing was required of her, and she could just relax.

But as the minutes passed, she began to feel more and more uneasy that she’d made the wrong decision. Why had she stayed home from church? Out of fear? Was she afraid that God wasn’t calling her? Or was she afraid He was?

After a few minutes, the feeling that she belonged at church service with her newfound friends and family grew stronger.

She glanced at the clock, not sure what to do. She knew what she
wanted
to do. It would take more courage to go than to stay home. So she rallied her courage. Removing the work apron, she found her blue denim coat and helped herself to one of Sara’s woolen scarves. Because services were at Roman Byler’s chair shop, it was close enough to walk.

“I’m going!” she declared to the empty house. Chin firm, shoulders back, she marched out of the house.

The walk down the lane, across the road and down the road wasn’t far. It was cold and windy, but Mari didn’t mind because the sun was shining, and when she tipped her head just so, she could feel its warmth. And better yet, its promise of warmer days to come. Every step made her more determined. Church was where she belonged. It was where she wanted to be.

As she started up Roman and Fanny’s short drive, the line of black buggies between the house and shop made her slightly queasy again. What if she was making a mistake? What if God wasn’t really calling her? A terrible thought crossed her mind. What if she wasn’t worthy? Could God really accept her after she’d doubted Him for so long?

She reached the barnyard and stood there, uncertain. No one was in sight. Everyone had gone into the big shop where Roman made his chairs. She could run back to Sara’s and no one would be the wiser. She glanced around. The barnyard was still and quiet except for the sound of a loose piece of tin on the side of a small shed. Suddenly losing her nerve, she ducked into the open shed.

Bales of hay were stacked against the far wall, and something gray slinked out of the shadows. Mari saw that what she’d feared might be a rat was a fluffy tomcat.

The friendly creature trotted over and rubbed against Mari’s ankle. She stooped to pet it, and then a wave of memories swept over her as the air was filled with sound.

From inside the house came the achingly poignant resonance of joined voices singing an Old German hymn. The song was more chanting than modern words put to music. At the beginning of each verse a single wavering voice began alone and then a chorus of interwoven voices joined in praise, rich and sweet and so beautiful that she found herself in tears. Not of sorrow or fear, but tears of pure joy.

Step by step, Mari was drawn from the shed into the yard. Trembling, weeping, she made her way to the door of the chair shop. She let herself into the warm reception area of the shop. Two young mothers were there, one nursing an infant, another changing a toddler on a wide window seat. Both women stopped to smile at her, but neither spoke, unwilling to risk disturbing the singers in the main room of the building.

Mari removed her coat and added it to a pile on a chair, then quietly entered the much larger room. Workbenches and power saws had been moved so that rows of benches could be arranged in the open area. According to tradition, men and older boys sat on one side, women, girls and small children on the other. All three rooms opened into one another and were filled with worshippers. Everyone, other than a few elders, was standing, still singing the first hymn. There were many stanzas, and some hymns lasted more than half an hour. They’d not yet begun
The Loblied
, which was always the second hymn of every service.

Susanna King, Hannah’s daughter, was in the last row, closest to the back of the room, and when she saw Mari, her round little face broke into a wide smile. Susanna moved over to make room for Mari and then took up the hymn again, her croaking voice never quite meshing with the others but filled with joyous enthusiasm. Mari drew in a deep breath and joined in. Susanna offered to share her hymnal, but Mari shook her head. She knew every note and every word by heart.

As everyone finished the last verse and began to settle onto the wooden benches, Mari glanced over to the men’s side of the room. At the same instant, James, sitting in the fourth row, looked in her direction. Their gazes met and held. James smiled at her and nodded. Mari smiled back, felt a rush of heat in her cheeks and sank back onto her seat. A shiver of excitement ran through her, and her eyes misted with tears once more.

It felt right that she should be there. It felt safe and good, and she felt enveloped by the unity of the people around her. Suddenly she found herself wondering why she had struggled with the decision to come. She didn’t feel like a fish out of water; she felt as though she had come home after being on a long journey.

The
vorsinger
, an older man with a long white beard and a cheerful round face, stood and began the second hymn. Behind Mari, a group of boys filed in, whispering among themselves. They found seats at the back of the men’s section on the adjoining porch, and as everyone rose to join in the hymn, Mari saw her Zachary was among them.

Susanna reached over and touched her arm and smiled at her again. “Sing,” she urged.

And Mari did just that, giving herself over to the familiar worship service, and setting aside her worries and her fears to let the peace of God’s grace flow over her.

* * *

When the last hymn had been sung and the congregation broke for the midday meal, Mari remained where she was, her hands clasped. Eyes closed, she prayed silently, barely hearing the sounds of benches being moved, children running and laughing and women calling out directions to get the tables set for the meal. At last, when she had poured her heart out to God, she sighed with relief and opened her eyes, feeling a bit as if she’d been wrung through her grandmother’s old-fashioned wringer washing machine.

Slowly Mari rose, taking in the activity around her. Although tables were already set up and young girls were laying out the place settings, there was plenty left to do. In the past few weeks she’d attended communal meals often enough to know what needed to be done, and she found it easy to join in. She was just leaning over to pick up the bench she’d been sitting on when James’s sister, Mattie, caught her eye.

Mari smiled. She was used to seeing Mattie with at least one baby on her hip, but neither Timothy nor William was anywhere to be seen. Their father might have them, but it was more likely that one of the other women had swept the twins away, giving Mattie a much-needed break.

“Good Sabbath,” Mattie greeted her.

Mari smiled. “Good Sabbath,” she repeated, setting the bench down when she realized that Mattie was headed her way to speak to her. “Where are the babies?”

“I have no idea. Someone has them, I suppose.” She chuckled, and Mari chuckled with her.

“I didn’t see you when service started this morning,” Mattie said, the bench between them. She was wearing a plain black Sunday dress.

Mari smoothed the scarf that covered most of her hair. Mattie was always pleasant to her, but Mari could always feel an underlying current of tension between them. James had warned Mari that Mattie was concerned about their friendship, but Mari kept hoping that with time, his sister would realize that she had no intention of kidnapping him and carrying him out into the big bad world. Didn’t Mattie realize that world was what Mari had been running from when she came to Seven Poplars?

“I...I wasn’t feeling well this morning,” Mari explained. “But then...I felt better.” She watched Susanna King carry a big bowl of macaroni salad toward the buffet table.

“Well, it’s good to have you here with us.” Mattie smoothed the bodice of her dress. “I understand you’re seeing the bishop regularly and beginning classes to prepare for baptism.”

“I am.” Mari nodded, still feeling a little emotional from the service. “I hope to be baptized next year.”

“And become a full member of the community?” Mattie asked.

Only then did Mari pick up on a certain tone to Mattie’s voice. Mattie didn’t seem pleased. “That’s my intention,” she said, taking a quick glance around, hoping James was nearby. Usually, Mari didn’t talk with Mattie without James.

“Well, I’m very happy for you and for your son. I hope that you find peace here.” Mattie hesitated. “But it’s also my hope...” She exhaled and then started again. “Mari, I’m just going to come out and say this.”

Now Mari was really beginning to feel uncomfortable. She was in a big room with at least thirty people, and yet suddenly she felt alone. “Yes?”

“You know how much my little brother means to me. You know how close we are.”

Mari nodded, thinking to herself that Mattie was speaking of him almost as if he were still the little boy she had raised after their mother passed away. But it didn’t seem right to say that. She just stayed quiet and listened.

“I just... I think you need to be absolutely certain that your desire to be a part of our community isn’t—” She glanced away as if trying to get control of her emotions. “Mari, what I’m trying to say is that I’m worried that you’re joining church in the hopes that James will marry you.”

Mari felt a sudden rush of tears. She was tempted to just walk away. She was hurt that Mattie would suggest such a thing, but then hadn’t she wondered the same thing just a few hours earlier?

Mari took a breath and slowly turned her gaze to meet Mattie’s. The suggestion stung, but she had to admire Mattie for being willing to come directly to her. “I can’t...I can’t say that I don’t care for your brother because I do, but I want you to know, Mattie, that I’m joining the church because this is where I belong.” Her voice caught in her throat. “God is calling me to come back to the Plain life I knew as a child, and I’ve realized since coming to Seven Poplars that this is where I was supposed to end up. It’s our home now, my son’s and mine.” She took a breath, feeling steadier. “And as far as wanting to be baptized just so I can marry James, that wouldn’t make sense because I was already approached with the opportunity to enter a possible match with James and I said no.”