Joann glanced back and saw where Ben was sitting just as Roman came in and took a seat. Their eyes met, and she quickly looked forward again. She whispered to Sally, “Ben is here.”
“Is he looking at me?”
“How should I know?”
“Check and see if he’s looking this way.”
Joann glanced back. Ben wasn’t looking their way, but Roman was. Joann quickly faced forward and opened her songbook.
Sally nudged her with her elbow. “Well? Is he?”
“No.”
“Oh.” Disappointed, Sally snapped her book closed. After a moment, she leaned close to Joann. “Is he looking now?”
“I’m not going to keep twisting my head around like a curious turkey. If he’s looking, he’s looking. If he isn’t, he isn’t.”
“Fine. What’s wrong with you today?”
“I’m sorry. I’m just upset because I may lose my job.”
“Why? What happened?” Grace asked.
“Otis wants his nephew to take over my position.”
Sally gave up trying to see what Ben was doing. “Which nephew?”
“Roman Weaver.”
Grace shot her a puzzled look. “What does Roman know about the printing business?”
“Whatever I can teach him in two weeks. After that, I go back to my old job at the bookstore. Oh, I’m the cleaning lady now, too.”
“That’s not fair,” Sally declared. “You do a wonderful job for the paper. My mother says the Family Hour magazine has been much more interesting since you started working for Otis.”
Joann sighed. “I love the job, but what can I do?”
“Quit,” Sally stated as if that solved everything. “Tell Otis he can train his own help and clean his own floors.”
“You know I can’t do that. I need whatever work I can get.”
Esta Bowman came in with her family. Grace nodded slightly to acknowledge her. Esta moved forward to sit on a bench several rows in front of Sally. The two women had been cool toward each other for months.
According to gossip, Esta had tried to come between Grace and her come-calling friend, Henry Zook. Happily, she had failed. Grace confided to Sally that she and Henry would marry in the fall. Although Amish betrothals were normally kept secret, Sally shared the news with Sarah and Joann. Joann hadn’t told anyone else.
Grace whispered to her. “Esta has been at it again. Everyone knows she’s walking out with Roman Weaver, but according to her sister, she’s just doing it to make Faron Martin jealous. Two weeks ago, Henry saw her kissing Ben Lapp.”
“Ben wouldn’t do that,” Sally snapped.
Grace waved aside Sally’s objection. “I think she was only trying to make Faron notice her. Anyway, it worked. She left the barn party last Saturday with Faron, and I saw them kissing. I noticed he drove his courting buggy today. Mark my words, she’ll ride home with him this evening and not with Roman.”
Joann discovered she wanted to hear more about Roman’s romantic attachment, but she knew church wasn’t the place to engage in gossip. She softly reminded Grace of that fact. Grace rolled her eyes but fell silent.
Joann resisted the urge to look back and see if Roman’s gaze rested tenderly on Esta. It was none of her business if he was about to be dumped by a fickle woman.
Joann turned her heart and mind toward listening to God’s word.
After the church service, the families gathered for the noon meal and clustered together in groups to catch up on the latest news. There were two new babies to admire and newlyweds to tease. Then Moses and Atlee Beachy got up a game of volleyball for the young people that kept everyone entertained. It was pleasant to visit with the friends she didn’t see often. Joann was sorry when it came time to leave. She found herself searching for Roman in the groups of men still clustered near the barn but didn’t see him. Nor did she see Esta among the women.
Hebron walked up to her, a scowl on his face. “Have you seen the girls?”
She looked around for her nieces. “I think they were playing hide-and-seek in the barn with some of the other children.”
“See if you can find them. I’m ready to go.”
Joann walked into the barn in search of her nieces. It wouldn’t be the first time the girls had stayed hidden to keep from having to go home when they were having fun. They often played this game. After calling them several times, Joann accepted that she would have to join the game and find them herself. She climbed the ladder to the hayloft. A quick check around convinced her they weren’t hiding there. So where were they?
Joann returned to the ground level and began checking in each of the stalls. She didn’t believe the girls would be hiding with any of the horses, but she didn’t know where else to look. One stall was empty. A rustling sound from within caught Joann’s attention. She stepped inside but her search only turned up a cat with a litter of kittens curled up in a pile of straw in the far corner. She took a moment to reassure the new mother. Stepping closer, she stooped to pet the cat and admire the five small balls of black-and-white fur curled together at her side. It was then she heard Roman’s voice. “Esta, I wish to speak to you alone.”
“You sound so serious, Roman. What’s the matter?”
“May I speak frankly?” Something in his voice held Joann rooted to the spot.
“Of course. We’re friends, aren’t we?”
“I hope that we have become more than friends. That’s what I wish to talk about.”
“Why, Roman, I’m not sure I know what you mean.” Esta’s coy reply sent Joann’s heart to her feet. She needed to let them know she was present, but she dreaded facing Roman. Maybe if she stayed quiet, they would leave and she wouldn’t be discovered. She held her breath and prayed. To her dismay, they stopped right outside the stall where she crouched beside the kittens.
“Can I take you home tonight?” Roman asked.
“Did you bring your courting buggy? I thought you came with your family.”
“I did come with my family, but it would make me very happy if you would walk out with me this evening.”
“I’ve already told Faron Martin that he could take me home. He brought his courting buggy.”
“Tell him you’ve changed your mind.”
“But I haven’t.”
“Esta, don’t do this to me.”
“Don’t do what? I want to ride in Faron’s buggy. He’s got a radio in it, and his horse is a mighty flashy stepper. Almost as pretty as your horse, but of course, you can’t drive him anymore, can you?”
Joann heard the teasing in Esta’s voice. She was toying with Roman. Did she care who took her home as long as they had a tricked-out buggy? Joann wanted to shake her. How could a woman be so fickle?
“Esta, I’m ready to settle down. Aren’t you?”
“Are you serious?”
“Very serious.”
Joann wished she was anywhere else but eavesdropping on a private conversation. She shouldn’t be listening. She covered her ears with her hands and took a step back. She didn’t know the mother cat had moved behind her until she stepped on her paw.
The cat yowled and sank her teeth into Joann’s leg. She shrieked and shook the cat loose as she stumbled backward. She lost her balance and hit the stall door. The unlatched gate flew open and Joann found herself sprawled on her backside at Roman’s feet.
Esta began laughing, but there was no mirth on Roman’s face.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.
“I’m sorry,” she sputtered, struggling to her feet.
Esta crossed her arms. “She’s making a fool of herself, as usual.”
“I was looking for my nieces, if you must know.” Joann said as she dusted off her skirt and straightened her kapp.
A smug smile curved Esta’s lips. “She’s just eavesdropping on us because she can’t get a boyfriend of her own.”
Joann’s chin came up. “At least I don’t go around kissing everyone who walks out with me.”
Shock replaced Esta’s grin. “How dare you.”
Growing bolder, Joann took a step closer. “Which one is a better kisser? Ben Lapp or Faron Martin?”
“Oh!” Esta’s face grew beet red. She covered her cheeks with her hands and fled.
It was Joann’s turn to sport a smug grin. It died the second she caught sight of Roman’s face. The thunderous expression she dreaded was back.
“What have I ever done to you?” he asked in a voice that was dead calm.
She looked down, unable to meet his gaze. “Nothing.”
“Then why your spiteful behavior?”
“You call the truth spiteful?” She glanced up, trying to judge his reaction.
“What truth is that?”
“Esta Barkman is a flirt, and she’s using you.”
“I won’t listen to you speak ill of her.”
“Suit yourself.” She swept past him, wishing that she had kept her mouth closed. What did she care if Esta was leading him on? It was none of her business what woman he cared for. Joann only hoped she had opened his eyes to Esta’s less-than-sterling behavior even if it cost his good opinion of her.
* * *
On Monday morning, a faint hope still flickered in Joann’s heart as she walked up to the front door of the publishing office. She didn’t see Roman’s buggy on the street. Perhaps he wouldn’t come, and she could continue with her job as if nothing had happened. Oh, how she prayed that was God’s will.
She paused with her hand on the doorknob. “Please, Lord, don’t make me work with that man,” she whispered.
She pushed open the door and came face-to-face with the object of her prayers. Roman Weaver stood behind the front counter. He scowled at her and glanced over his shoulder at the clock on the wall. It showed five minutes past nine. Looking back at her, he said, “You’re late.”
Great. Just great. He was here in spite of her prayers. This was going to be a long day.
Joann hung her bag on the row of pegs beside the door as she struggled to hide her disappointment. “I’m not late. That clock is ten minutes fast. I’ve been meaning to reset it. Welcome to Miller Press. We publish a monthly correspondent magazine with reports from scribes in a number of Amish settlements, plus other news and stories. We also publish a weekly paper that has sections on weddings, births, deaths, accidents and other special columns. Besides those two, we also do custom print jobs.”
Two straw hats hung on the pegs. That meant only Otis and Roman had come in. Gerald Troyer and Leonard Jenks would be in anytime now. Hopefully they would come quickly. She was running out of things to say.
The thought no sooner crossed her mind than the outside door opened and Gerald walked in. A tall and lanky young man, his short, fuzzy red-brown beard proclaimed him a newlywed. “Morning, Joann. Did you have a nice weekend?”
“Well enough. And you?” She refused to look at Roman. She would need to apologize at some point for her behavior yesterday.
Although he was Amish, Gerald belonged to a congregation from a neighboring town. He sighed heavily. “My wife’s family came for a surprise visit.”
“And how did that go?” Joann asked.
“Her mother is nice enough, but I don’t think her father likes me. He didn’t say more than four words to me the entire weekend.”
She saw him glance pointedly at Roman. She couldn’t delay the moment any longer. She gestured toward Roman. “Gerald, this is Roman Weaver. Roman is going to be working with us.”
“Excellent. Are you a pressman, reporter or typesetter?” Gerald asked as he held out his hand.
Roman shook it. “None of those, I’m afraid, but I’m willing to learn.”
Joann said, “Otis wants Roman to learn all aspects of the business. Gerald is our typesetter and helps with local news reporting.”
“Minding my p’s and q’s, that’s me,” Gerald said with a wide grin.
Joann noticed the puzzled look Roman gave him. He really didn’t know anything about the business. She explained. “All type is set in reverse so that when it’s printed it’s in the correct position. The p and the q look so much alike that it is easy to mix them up. Typesetters have to mind their p’s and q’s. It’s a very old joke.”
Roman didn’t look amused. “I see. Minding my p’s and q’s is my first lesson. What’s next, teacher?”
He stressed the last word. To Joann’s ears it almost sounded like an insult. Any hope of a good working relationship between them was fading fast.
“I guess we’ll start with the layout of the building.”
She indicated the high front counter with a tall chair behind it. “The business consists of six separate spaces. Here in the front office, we take orders for printing jobs, accept information and announcements for the paper and take payments for completed orders.”
Otis had his office door closed so she knew not to disturb him. “To the left is your uncle’s office. Otis oversees all aspects of the business. Any questions I can’t answer, he’ll be able to.”
The front door opened again and a small, elderly gray-haired man entered. He wore faded blue jeans and a red plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His fingernails were stained with ink. He nodded to Joann.
“Leonard Jenks, I’d like you to meet Roman Weaver,” she said.
“You’re Otis’s nephew, aren’t you? He told me he offered you a job. Don’t expect special treatment.”
“I don’t,” Roman replied, meeting the man’s gaze with a steady one of his own.
Leonard nodded, and then said, “Once I get the generator started, we can run those auction handbills. You have them ready, right Joann?”
“I need to put one through the proof press before we get started. I wanted to wait and show Roman how that’s done.”
“Then you’d best get to it. Make sure he knows I won’t waste my time and my eyesight trying to read his chicken scratching. Block print every order,” Leonard said, then crossed to a door at the back of the room and went out.
“Friendly fellow,” Roman said.
“You have to give him a chance to get to know you. As he mentioned, no one uses cursive writing here. Everything must be printed legibly. Anything you’ve written that you want to go into print must be typed up. Can you type?”
He arched one eyebrow. “No.”
Joann could have kicked herself. Of course he couldn’t type with just one hand. She rushed on to cover her mistake. “Leonard’s wife will type up your work. Just let Otis know when you need her.”
“I’ll learn how to do it. I’m surprised to see an Englisch fellow working here. I thought they all went in for computer printing these days.”
“Leonard worked for fifty years at a printing company in Cleveland. When they upgraded to more modern presses, he found himself out of a job. Your uncle purchased their old equipment. When Leonard learned where the equipment was going, he asked Otis for a job and moved to Hope Springs. He’s invaluable. He knows the equipment inside and out and he can fix anything that goes wrong.”
“Is that why his unsociable behavior is tolerated?”
“In part. As I was saying, these are the front offices. Through this door is the makeup room and the table where the type is kept along with our proof press.”
She opened the door and went in. Gerald was putting on a large leather apron. “I’ll show you how type setup works when Joann is finished with you,” he said to Roman.
The sooner she was finished with him the better. Having Roman following her was like having a surly dog at her back. She expected him to snap at her at any second. Her nerves were stretched to the breaking point.
Should she apologize for her comments yesterday or should she go on as if nothing had happened? She certainly wasn’t about to mention their meeting in front of Gerald.
“Next door to this building is a bookshop where our books are available to the public,” she said. “The store is run by Mabel Jenks, Leonard’s wife.”
“My uncle h
ired the wife, too? That’s surprising.”
“She isn’t an employee. He sold half the bookstore to her. Your uncle’s business needed to expand beyond the borders of this town. He had books and pamphlets for sale in the store as well as a library of important Amish works. Many are quite rare. Selling part of the bookstore to Mabel, an Englisch partner, allowed Otis to expand to the internet so that people from all over the world could find information about the Amish and search for our books. Mabel runs our website, too.”
“I had no idea this was such a big operation.”
At least he finally seemed impressed with something she was showing him. “Beyond this setup room are the presses. We have four. You’ll learn to run each one.”
“Leonard will show me that?”
“Ja.”
“I can hardly wait.”
She ignored his sarcasm. “In keeping with the Ordnung of our Amish congregation, we don’t use electricity. The lamps are gas. A diesel generator that sits behind the building runs the equipment that isn’t hand-operated. It’s Leonard’s baby, but he’ll show you what to do in case you have to run it in a pinch.”
“I took a look at them earlier. They’re the same type we use at our sawmill.”
“I’m glad you’re familiar with them.” At least he was qualified to do something at his uncle’s business.
She wasn’t sure why he had accepted the position. She’d never met anyone less suited to become an editor and office manager, a job that fit her like a glove. Somehow, she was going to have to get him up to speed and quickly. If she couldn’t, would Otis let her stay? She doubted it. He was getting on in years. Was he thinking about who would take over after he was gone? If he wanted it to be his nephew, well, she understood, but she didn’t have to like it.
She kept walking with Roman close on her heels as they passed between the presses. Hopefully, Otis would want Roman to spend the rest of the day with him or with Leonard. She was going to be a nervous wreck if he was breathing down her neck all day.
“Back here is our storage room.” She opened the door and stepped inside. Roman followed.
She’d never noticed how small the room was until he took up all the available space and air. “We keep paper, solvents for cleaning ink off the type and such in here along with rolls of wire for our binder,” she said breathlessly. “I’ll give you a list of what we stock and how to find it.”
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