The muscles in Roman’s jaw clenched. “I work at my father’s side in the sawmill. I don’t need a job. I have one,” he said.
Sympathy flashed in his uncle’s eyes. “You have one that you can’t continue.”
“My arm is better. I’m making progress.” He concentrated on his fingers protruding from the sling. He was able to move his index and middle finger ever so slightly.
He could tell from the look on his uncle’s face that he wasn’t impressed. If only he knew how much effort it took to move any part of his hand.
“I give thanks to God for His mercy and pray for your recovery daily,” Otis said. “As do your parents, but your father needs a man with two strong arms to work in the mill if he is to earn a profit and meet his obligations.”
“He hasn’t said this to me.”
“I don’t imagine he would. I’m asking you to consider what is best for your family. I have work, worthy work, for you to do that requires a good mind but not two strong arms. Besides, your mother will rest easier knowing you aren’t trying to do too much.”
A sick sensation settled in Roman’s stomach. “She told you about the incident last week?”
“Ja.”
“It was a freak accident. My sling got snagged on a log going into the saw. The strap broke and freed me.” He tried to make it sound less dire than it had been. He would relive the memory of those horrible, helpless moments in his nightmares for a long time. His confidence in his ability to do the job he’d always considered his birthright had suffered a harsh blow.
“I understand you were jerked off your feet and dragged toward the saw,” Otis said.
“I was never in danger of being pulled into the blade.” He was sure he could have freed himself.
Maybe.
“That’s not how your mother saw it.”
No, it wasn’t. Roman’s humiliation had been made all the worse by his mother’s fright. She had come into the mill to deliver his lunch and witnessed the entire thing. Her screams had alerted his father and younger brother, but no one had been close enough to help. God had answered her frantic plea and freed him in time.
“I’m sorry Mamm was frightened, but sawmill work is all I know. I don’t see how I can be of use to you in this business,” Roman said.
“I fully expect you to give me a fair day’s work for your wage. Joann Yoder will teach you all you need to know about being a manager and an editor.”
Roman barely heard his uncle’s words. He stared at his useless arm resting in the sling. It was dead weight around his neck. He didn’t want to be dead weight around his family’s neck. Could he accept the humiliation of being unable to do a man’s job? He wasn’t sure. All his life he’d been certain of his future. Now, he had no idea what God wanted from him.
“Say you will at least think about it, nephew. Who knows, you may find the work suits you. It would please me to think my sister’s son might carry on the business my brother and I built after I’m gone.”
Roman glanced at his uncle’s hopeful face. He and his wife were childless, and his recently deceased older brother had never married, but Roman had no intention of giving up his eventual ownership of the sawmill. If he did accept his uncle’s offer, it would only be a temporary job. “Who did you say would train me?”
“The woman you saw leaving just as you came in.”
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. Is she someone I know?”
“Joann Yoder. The sister of Hebron, Ezekiel and William Yoder. I’m sure you know her.”
Roman’s eyebrows shot up. “The bookworm?”
Otis laughed. “I had no idea that was her nickname, but it fits.”
“It was something we used to call her when we were kids in school.” She was a plain, shy woman who always stayed in the background.
“Joann can teach you what you need to know about this work.”
Roman clamped his lips shut and stared down at his paralyzed arm. He had trouble dressing himself. He couldn’t tie his own shoes without help. He couldn’t do a man’s job, a job that he’d done since he was ten years old. Now, he was going to have a woman telling him how to do this job, if he took it. How much more humiliation would God ask him to bear?
He looked at his uncle. “Why can’t you show me how the business is run?”
“I’ll be around to answer your questions, but Joann knows the day-to-day running of the business almost as well as I do.”
So, he would be stuck with Joann Yoder as a mentor if he accepted. Was she still the quiet, studious loner who chose books over games and sports?
Otis hooked his thumbs under his suspenders and rocked back on his heels. “What do you say, Roman? Will you come work for me?”
Chapter Two
Joann trudged along the quiet, tree-lined streets of Hope Springs with her head down and her carefully laid plans in shambles. Early May sunshine streamed through the branches overhead, making lace patterns on the sidewalk that danced as the wind stirred the leaves. The smell of freshly mowed grass and lilacs scented the late afternoon air.
At any other time, she would have delighted in the glorious weather, the cool breeze and the fragrant flowers blooming in profusion beside the neatly tended houses of the village. At the moment, all she could see was more years of shuffling from one house to another stretching in front of her.
If only I hadn’t dared dream that I could change my life.
A small brown-and-white dog raced past her, yipping furiously. His quarry, a yellow tabby, had crossed the street just ahead of him. The cat shot up the nearest tree. From the safety of a thick branch, it growled at the dog barking and leaping below. The mutt circled the tree several times and then sat down to keep an eye on his intended victim.
As Joann came up beside the terrier mix, he looked her way. She stopped to pat his head. “I know just how you feel. So close and yet so far. Take my word for it, you wouldn’t have liked the outcome if you had caught him.” The cat was almost as big as the dog.
Joann walked on, wondering if there was a similar reason why she couldn’t obtain the prize she had been working so hard to secure. Would the outcome have been worse than what she had now? Only the Lord knew. She had to trust in His will, but it was hard to see the good through her disappointment.
After a few more minutes, she reached the buggy shop of Levi Beachy at the edge of town. She passed it every day on her way to and from work. Across the street from the shop stood the house that had almost been hers.
Sarah Wyse, a young Amish widow, had lived there until shortly after Christmas when she married Levi. For a time they had rented the house to a young Amish couple, but they had moved away a month ago and the small, two-story house was vacant again.
Vacant and waiting for someone to move in who would love and cherish it.
Joann stopped with her hands on the gate. The picket fence needed a coat of paint. She itched to take a paintbrush to it. The lawn was well-kept, but if the home belonged to her, she would plant a row of pansies below the front porch railing and add a birdhouse in the corner of the yard. She loved to watch birds. They always seemed so happy.
She would be happy, too, if all it took to build a snug home for herself was bits of straw and twigs. However, it took more. Much more.
She gazed at the windows of the upper story. She’d been a guest in Sarah’s home several times. She knew the upstairs held two bedrooms. One for her and one for visitors. Downstairs there was a cozy sitting room with a wide brick fireplace. Off the kitchen was a room just the right size to set up a quilt frame. Joann longed for a quilt frame of her own, but she didn’t have a place to keep one.
“Joann, how nice to see you,” Sarah Beachy said as she came out of the shop with her arms full of upholstery material. She did all the sewing for the business, covering the buggy seats and door panels her husband made in whatever fabric the customer ordered.
“Hello, Sarah,” Joann returned the greeting but couldn’t manage a cheerful face for her friend.
> “Joann, what’s wrong?” Sarah laid her bundle on a bench outside the door and quickly crossed the narrow roadway.
Unexpected tears blurred Joann’s vision. She didn’t cry. She never cried. She rubbed the moisture away with her hands and folded her arms across her chest. “Nothing,” she said, gazing at the ground.
“Something is definitely wrong. You’re scaring me.” Sarah cupped Joann’s chin, lifting gently until Joann had no choice but to meet her gaze.
She swallowed and said, “I’ve come to tell you that you don’t have to wait until September to put your house on the market. You can do it right away.”
“You mean you’ve decided that you don’t want it?”
“I’m afraid I can’t afford it now.”
“I don’t understand. Just two weeks ago you told us you were sure you could earn the amount we agreed upon by that time.”
“I was fired today.”
“Fired? Why on earth would Otis Miller do that?”
“To give the job to someone who needs it more. He’s keeping me on as a part-time cleaning woman, and I can have my old job at the bookstore back, but I won’t earn nearly enough to pay you what you need by the end of the summer. It was really nice of you and Levi to offer to let me make payments over time, but I know how much you want to make improvements to the business before winter.”
“Levi would like to get the holes in the roof fixed and a new generator for the lathe, but I would rather see you happy. If you want, I can talk to him about giving you more time. Perhaps, instead of selling it we could rent it to you. We would both be delighted to have you as our neighbor.”
“Danki, but that isn’t fair to you. Selling your house outright makes much more sense. Besides, with only a part-time job, I wouldn’t be able to afford the rent, either. There will be another house for me when the time is right.”
She said as much, but she wasn’t sure she believed it. Her brothers didn’t feel she should live alone and they weren’t willing to cover the cost of another house. The local bank had already turned her down for a home loan. She didn’t have enough money saved to make a substantial down payment and her employment record wasn’t long enough. Only Levi and Sarah had been willing to take a chance on her.
Another home might come along in the distant future, but would it have such a sunny kitchen? Or such an ample back porch with a well-tended garden that backed up to the woods, and a fine sturdy barn for a horse and buggy? This house was perfect. It wasn’t too large or too small, and it was close to work.
To the job she didn’t have anymore. Her shoulders slumped.
“Come in and have a cup of tea,” Sarah said. “There must be something we can do. Perhaps you can find a different job.”
The wind kicked up and blew the ribbons of Joann’s white prayer kapp across her face. She glanced toward the west. “Danki, but I should get going. It looks like rain is coming this way.”
“I’ll have one of the boys hitch up the cart and drive you.”
Joann managed to smile at that. “I’m not about to get in a cart with Atlee or Moses. People still talk about how they rigged the seats to tip over backward in Daniel Hershberger’s buggy and sent him and his new wife down the street, bottoms up.”
Sarah tried not to laugh but lost the struggle. She giggled and pressed her hand to her lips. “It was funny, but my poor Levi was so upset. You will be safe with either one of the twins. Levi’s mischief-making brothers have been a changed pair since our wedding.”
“How did you manage that?”
Sarah leaned close. “I only feed them when they behave. They do like my cooking.”
Joann laughed and felt better. “Ah, Sarah, your friendship is good for my soul.”
“I cherish your friendship, as well. Who did Otis give your job to?”
“Roman Weaver. I’m to teach him everything I know about the business.”
“I see.” A thoughtful expression came over Sarah’s face. “So you will be working with Roman. Interesting.”
“Only until he has learned enough to do my job. What’s so interesting about it?”
A gleam entered Sarah’s eyes. “Roman is single. You are single.”
Joann held up her hand and shook her head. “Oh, no! Don’t start matchmaking for me. Roman doesn’t know I exist, and it wouldn’t matter if he did. I’m not the marrying kind.”
“You will be when God sends the right man your way. I’m the perfect example of that. I didn’t think I would marry again after my first husband died, but Levi changed my mind. Roman’s a nice fellow. Don’t let the disappointment of losing your job color your opinion of him.”
“I’ll try. Just promise me you won’t try any of your matchmaking tricks on me.”
“No tricks, I promise.”
After refusing a ride once more, Joann bid Sarah farewell and glanced again at the lovely little house on the edge of town before heading toward her brother’s farm two miles away. Her steps were quicker, but her heart was still heavy.
* * *
Roman left his uncle’s publishing house and stopped on the narrow sidewalk outside. The realization that he couldn’t do the job he loved left him hollow and angry.
He’d never once wanted to work anywhere except in the sawmill alongside his father. The business had been handed down in his family for generations. His mother used to say that he and his father had sawdust in their veins instead of blood. It was close to the truth. Now he was being asked to give it up. The thought was unbearable. He’d already lost so much. He tried not to be bitter, but it was hard.
He wouldn’t accept his uncle’s offer until he’d had a chance to talk things over with his father. Roman had to know if his father wished this. It hurt to think that he might. The gray clouds gathering overhead matched Roman’s mood. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
“What did Onkel Otis want?” The question came from Roman’s fifteen-year-old brother, Andrew, as he approached from up the street. His arms were full of packages.
“He wanted to see how I’m getting along. Did you find all that Daed needed at the hardware store?” He held open the door so his brother could put the parcels on the backseat. The job offer was something he wanted to discuss with his father before he shared the information with Andrew.
“I checked on our order for the new bearings, but they haven’t come in yet. I have everything else on father’s list.”
When Andrew climbed in the front, Roman moved to untie his mother’s placid mare from the hitching post. Meg was slow but steady and unlike his spirited gelding, she wouldn’t bolt if he lost control of the reins. Managing his high-stepping buggy horse with one arm was just one more thing that he couldn’t do anymore.
Maybe his uncle was right. Maybe he should move aside so his father could hire a more able man. It wouldn’t be forever.
His parents and Bishop Zook had counseled him to pray for acceptance, but he couldn’t find it in his heart to do so. He was angry that God had brought him low in this manner. And for what reason? What had he done to deserve this? Nothing. He climbed awkwardly into the buggy.
“Do you want me to drive?” Andrew asked.
“Nee, I can manage.” Earlier, Roman had tied the lines together so he could slip them over his neck and shoulder as he often did when he worked behind a team in the fields. That way he couldn’t accidently drop the reins. By pulling on first one and then the other, he was able to guide Meg along the street without hitting any of the cars lining the block. Driving still made him nervous. He cringed each time an Englisch car sped by, but he was determined to return to a normal life.
Just beyond the edge of town, they passed a woman walking along the road. She carried a green-and-white quilted bag slung over her shoulder. He recognized it as the one that had been hanging from a chair in his uncle’s office. This had to be Joann Yoder. He glanced at her face as he passed her and was surprised by the look of dislike that flashed in her green eyes before she dropped her gaze.
What reason did she have to dislike him? The notion disturbed his concentration. He tried to ignore it, but he couldn’t.
Dark gray clouds moved across the sky, threatening rain at any moment. Lightning flashed in the distance. The thunder grew louder. He pulled Meg to a stop.
Andrew gave him a quizzical look. “What are you doing?”
“A good deed.” He waited.
When the woman came alongside, he touched the brim of his hat. “Would you like a lift?”
“Nee, danki,” she replied coldly as she walked past without looking at him.
He studied her straight back and determined walk. If she were this unfriendly, it wouldn’t be a joy working with her. Why was she upset with him? He’d rarely even spoken to her.
Roman looked at his brother. “What do you know about Joann Yoder?”
“What is there to know? She’s an old maedel. She does whatever old maids do. Can we get home? I have chores to do yet this evening, and I’d rather not do them in the dark.”
The road ahead was empty. The next farm was over a mile away. A few drops of rain splattered against the buggy top. Roman clicked his tongue to get Meg moving. She plodded down the road until she came even with Joann and then slowed to match the woman’s steps. They traveled that way for a few dozen yards. Finally, Joann stopped. The mare did, too.
She smiled as she patted the animal’s neck. When she turned toward Roman, her smile vanished. She kept her eyes lowered. He was surprised by a sharp desire to make her look at him again. He wanted to see if her eyes were as green as he thought.
“Did you need something?” she asked.
“Nee. We are just on our way home.”
“At a snail’s pace,” Andrew added under his breath.
Roman ignored him. “Allow us to give you a ride. We are obviously going in the same direction. It looks like rain.”
“I won’t melt.”
“But you will be uncomfortable.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Won’t your books get wet?”
She looked down at her bag and back at him. A wary expression flashed across her face. It had been a guess on his part but it appeared he was right about the contents of her bag.
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