A little past noon, the door opened. His father looked in. “Gideon Beachy’s feed wagon has a busted axle and broken rear wheel. It will take all of us to get it repaired before he has to feed his dairy cows again this evening. Seth has gone into Fort Craig to see about some scrap iron for sale.”
Gabe laid aside the leather stip. “I thought I’d get some work in here done today, but reckon I thought wrong.”
“I’m sorry, sohn. I can’t neglect a paying job or our neighbor. I need you.”
“Of course.” Gabe laid the last strip of leather on the pile, grabbed his hat and followed his father. As he climbed on the wagon with his brothers, he caught sight of Esther in the garden with her brother. He should have taken her up on her offer. She could have stitched a belt or two for him while he was gone. He nodded to her. She pointedly looked away. It didn’t appear that she would be willing to help him in the future. He resigned himself to another lost day of work.
* * *
“Where are Zeke and his sons going?” Esther asked Jonah, who was helping her weed Talitha’s garden.
He shook his head, not bothering to sign. Esther stared at Gabe’s empty workshop. He didn’t think she had the skill required to stitch a few simple straight lines. That was basically all the belts and dog leashes required. Unless he wanted to produce fancier pieces. She was quite capable of stitching a zigzag if that were the case.
She resumed hoeing the weeds with renewed vigor. Being deaf didn’t make her incapable of learning. Unfortunately some people assumed that it did. She would love to prove him wrong.
She stopped hoeing. She shouldn’t be this annoyed. Why was she?
Because she’d had a few glimpses of empathy from Gabe Fisher. She thought he was different.
Jonah tapped the handle of the hoe she was leaning on and signed, “Maybe Pamela knows.”
Esther looked toward the house and saw Pamela walking toward her with a bowl in her hands. She stopped at the first row of green beans, squatted down and began searching among the leaves for pods that were big enough to pluck.
“Where did the Fisher men go?” Esther asked.
Pamela looked up. “To help a neighbor with a broken wagon.”
Esther glanced at the workshop again. “Will they be gone long?” She looked at her sister to see the answer.
“I heard Zeke say they wouldn’t be back for several hours.”
Several hours. How much stitching could she get done before Gabe returned? Enough to prove that she was capable of doing more? Would he be angry if she invaded his workspace without him? Was it worth risking his ire just to show him he was wrong about her usefulness?
Maybe it was.
She resumed hoeing. As soon as she finished this task, she was going to take another look around Gabe’s workshop. If there happened to be something that she could sew for him, she would. If there wasn’t anything cut, she wouldn’t risk ruining one of his pieces of leather. She’d just leave, close the door and pretend she had never gone back. She began to hoe more quickly.
Fifteen minutes later she put her gardening tool back in the shed and hurried around the side of the house before Waneta noticed she was done with her chore. If Waneta saw Esther wasn’t busy, she always found something for her to do. At the door to Gabe’s shop, Esther glanced around to make sure no one was looking for her and then she slipped inside.
The wonderful smells of leather and tanning oil made her smile. Perhaps she couldn’t hear the sounds of the world, but there was nothing wrong with her nose. She took delight in the different fragrances of life and the way the scent of something could bring a treasured memory into sharp focus. Only now she needed to concentrate on finding what work, if any, she could do for Gabe.
There were tanned hides stacked in one corner of the room waiting to be cut into usable shapes. Some of the leather was thick and black. Other pieces were thinner, more supple and dyed different shades of brown. There was little she could do with the uncut pieces. She turned her attention to the other side of the room and saw a stack of leather cut into strips of varying lengths but all exactly the same width. Unless she was badly mistaken, these were for belts. She grabbed the top three and carried them to Gabe’s sewing machine.
There were several spools of colored thread to choose from, but she decided to go with the creamy color that was already on the machine that Gabe had set up earlier. She looked back over her shoulder at the closed door.
She could put back the strips and leave. He would never know she had been inside without his knowledge. A quick retreat was tempting. She focused on the machine again. Proving him wrong was even more of a temptation.
After she stitched five of the belts with the creamy thread, her eyes were drawn to the spool of red thread. It would look pretty against the black leather. It took her a few minutes to figure out how to rethread the machine. When she was done, she set the needle for the first stitch and stared at the belt. What if she made a series of Xs instead of doing a straight stitch? How would that look? She pictured it in her mind’s eye. It certainly wouldn’t be plain. Would customers like it?
The more important question was, what would Gabe think of such a design? If she went ahead and he didn’t like it, the leather would be ruined.
She took a deep breath and began to sew. With each pull of the lever, she adjusted the angle of the strap and soon had a row of Xs almost done when light spilled in, brightening the room. She knew the outside door had been opened.
She turned around slowly. Gabe was standing in the doorway with a frightening scowl on his face and one hand clamped over his injured arm. She kept her chin up with difficulty as she focused on his mouth. She didn’t want to miss what he had to say.
He stood there for a long moment before he stepped into the room. His eyes moved from her to the stack of leather belts on the table beside the sewing machine. He didn’t say anything. He walked over and picked up one of the belts. He turned so he could examine it in the brighter light.
Still without speaking he spread the others out, looking carefully at each one. Then he noticed the piece still on the machine. One eyebrow shot up and he looked directly at her. “Interesting.”
While it wasn’t praise, it certainly wasn’t condemnation. “I thought so.”
His gaze roved over the room. She sat up straighter. “I didn’t touch any of your equipment other than the sewing machine.”
He nodded and then walked to the piles of leather. He withdrew one from a smaller stack and walked to the cutting table. He continued to hold his injured arm tight against his chest. She thought he said something but couldn’t tell for sure. He sent her a questioning look over his shoulder.
She crossed her arms. “What?”
“Sorry. I asked if you wanted to learn how to cut patterns. I’ll show you what templates I have. You can finish that piece later.”
“You aren’t angry with me?”
He cocked his head to the side. “Why should I be angry?”
“You were when you opened the door and saw me in here.”
“Nee, it was not an angry expression you saw. It was only discomfort.”
“Your arm is paining you?”
“Some. How is your head?”
She unfolded her arms and settled her hands on her hips. “Do you want the truth?”
“Certainly.”
“Throbbing, but not as bad as yesterday. Now tell me again, how is your arm?”
He cradled it with his good hand and grinned. “Stinging and aching something fierce. I think I may have torn a stitch.”
She looked at him, aghast. “Did you just say you might have torn your stitches?”
He sobered. “That’s what I said. Am I hard to understand?”
“I get most of what you are saying. I can guess at the rest. I’m just shocked that you came in here to work. March up to the house and
let me take a look at your arm. You will need a new bandage, anyway. It has bled through onto your shirtsleeve.” She pointed to the door. “Now. Go. Did you understand that?”
“I got it.” He walked to the door and held it open for her.
Her shoulder brushed against him as she walked past. She sucked in a quick breath as the contact sent her pulse racing. Why did he have such a strange effect on her?
* * *
She smelled like a garden in the sunshine. It wasn’t something Gabe had expected to encounter in his workshop. Perhaps she used a shampoo with a floral scent that lingered, or maybe it was simply her.
She was a breath of fresh air. More direct than any woman he knew except his mother. He liked her. But she wouldn’t be here long, and she wasn’t interested in a walking out with a fellow like him. He’d never thought having good hearing would be a drawback in a relationship, but it was in her case. Not that he had the time or the inclination to court a woman this summer. He didn’t. He had work to do.
At the house his father was seated at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee in his hand as he waited for supper. Esther pointed to a chair. “Sit. Roll up your sleeve.”
Esther gently unwound the bandage. His mother and Waneta came in from his mother’s quilting room. “What has happened?” his mother asked.
“I tore a stitch loose. It’s nothing. Esther is taking care of it.”
Waneta called for Julia, who came in from the other room. “See to Gabe’s arm. Julia has taken first-aid training and helps our local volunteer fire department,” she explained as she drew Esther aside.
“Esther was doing fine,” he said, watching her retreat to the living room.
His mother scowled in disapproval at his father. “You told me the doctor said he wasn’t to use his arm for a week.”
“I told the boy not to lift with that arm, didn’t I, Gabe?”
“You did, but it couldn’t be helped. We got the wagon fixed. That’s what counts.” Gabe hissed as Julia cleaned the rest of the stitches with peroxide.
“You will have to watch for any signs of infection,” she said, stepping back. “I’ll change the dressing again tomorrow.”
“Danki. Am I free to go?”
Julia nodded. Waneta beamed at her, then looked at Gabe. “Julia is calm and capable in an emergency. Wonderful traits for a wife to have, don’t you think?”
“I reckon so.” He stood, rolled down his sleeve and went into the living room. Esther was seated by the window staring outside. Her hands were clenched into fists on her lap. Jonah stood nearby with a scowl on his face.
Gabe crossed the room to stand beside Esther. She looked up at him. He nodded toward the front door. “We have work to do.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. She grinned and jumped to her feet. “I’m ready if you are.”
“Then come on. Jonah, I may need your help.” Gabe led the way through the kitchen and out the door.
Jonah hurried to keep up with him. “Gladly, but can we go look for a moose later? I’ve been hoping to see one.”
“Did your sister tell you about the one we saw this morning?”
“Nee, she did not.” Jonah touched Esther’s arm and signed quickly.
Esther signed back, ruffled his hair and went into the workshop.
“What did she say?” Gabe asked.
“She said if I get up early I might be able to see him tomorrow. Do you think he’ll return?”
“They tend to feed in one area for several days. It’s possible.”
Inside the workroom, Gabe went to his cutting table and pulled out several of the templates he had made for cutting out holsters, knife sheaths and wallets. Jonah was able to convey his instructions to Esther as Gabe had to keep his eyes on what he was cutting so he didn’t ruin a piece of leather. Esther watched and asked pointed questions about the properties of the leather he chose for each item. She had a quick mind, and she didn’t waste time with chitchat.
When Gabe had enough items cut out to keep her busy stitching for the rest of the day, he sent Jonah back to the house and turned his attention to making the pony-size harness that Willis Gingrich, the local Amish blacksmith, had ordered. He was cutting the driving lines an hour later when he noticed the sewing machine had stopped. He looked over to see Esther rubbing her temples with both hands.
She glanced his way. “I’m done.”
He shouldn’t have put her to work so soon. “That’s fine. Go to the house and rest. I will finish them tomorrow.”
“I mean I’m done with what you gave me. Do you trust me to cut out more?”
He made his way to her side. The neatly stitched items were stacked together on a table beside her chair. He picked up several of the wallets, knowing they took the most work, and examined them closely. The stitching was flawless. He shook his head in disbelief.
Worry filled her eyes. “Is something wrong? Did I make a mistake?”
“Nee, your work is every bit as good as I could have done, and you did it in a quarter of the time it would have taken me. To think I wondered how much help you could possibly be.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Because I’m deaf?”
“Because you said you hadn’t used a machine like mine or worked in leather before.” He held out the wallet. “Tell me the truth. Do you do this at home?”
She laughed. “I do not, but it’s easier than making a dress or a shirt. I can do more if you will cut some for me.”
“Not now. I want you to go rest. Your headache is worse.”
“How do you know that?”
“I can see it in your eyes.”
She rubbed her temples. “I said you were observant. Very well, I will go lie down for a bit.”
He watched her leave and then looked at the work they had gotten done in one morning. With Esther’s help, he could finish more than enough pieces in the next three weeks to sell at the upcoming festival. His hopes rose for the first time in ages. His plan just might work.
Chapter Five
Esther only meant to lie down for half an hour or so, but when she woke, she realized she had been asleep for over four hours. It was too late to go back to Gabe’s shop. She sat up and discovered her headache was almost gone.
Nancy was sitting on a chair nearby. “Feeling better?” she signed.
Esther grinned. “Much better.”
“Gabe was concerned when you didn’t come down for supper.”
“I promised to help him in his workshop. He must think I deserted him.”
Nancy shook her head and signed, “He said you were not to do any more work for him today.”
“Oh.” Esther was surprised at the sharpness of her disappointment. Had he decided he could get along better without her?
“He said rest and tomorrow will be soon enough to get started again.”
Relief made Esther smile. “That’s wunderbar. I’m happy to help him. I owe him so much.”
“He seems like a nice fellow. Waneta certainly thinks so.”
“I do, too. What about you? Have any of the brothers caught your eye?”
“After a day? I hardly think so. You sound like Waneta. She asked us all that very question this morning. Why is she so set on having us marry?”
Esther had wondered the same thing. “Perhaps she wants our father all to herself.”
“She won’t have that until Jonah marries, and he is only ten. Are you ready to go downstairs?”
“I am. I’m starving.”
“I’m sure Talitha can find you something. A soup bone to gnaw on or a crust of bread.”
Esther gave her sister a playful shove. “I’m sure our hostess has more than that laid by for her guests.”
“You wouldn’t be so sure if you saw how much food her sons eat. Moses must still be growing. He ate more than any of them.”
; “Then someone should point out that you are the best cook among us, little sister,” Esther said, holding back a grin.
Nancy stuck out her tongue and signed, “I expect Waneta will get around to mentioning it soon enough. We are working on a quilt in Talitha’s sewing room. Will you join us?”
“I think not. It’s difficult to quilt and gossip if you must stop and sign everything for me. You go and join the fun. I think I’ll have a bite to eat and go back to sleep. I can’t believe how tired I am.”
“You are trying to do too much too fast.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
The sisters walked downstairs together. Esther discovered that Talitha had left a plate of roast beef, carrots and potatoes warming in the oven for her. She enjoyed her solitary meal and then went back to bed.
The following morning she came down to breakfast to find everyone had already finished. She stepped outside and paused on the steps, wondering what she should do, when she caught sight of Gabe coming out of his workshop just as his brother Seth came out of the barn. Gabe must have called out to his brother, because Seth stopped, nodded and then continued his way. Gabe walked toward her. He held a pair of bridles in his hand.
He paused in front of her with his eyes focused on her face. “Are you feeling better?”
“Much. I’m ready to do more sewing for you.”
He shook his head. “Not right now. How about a walk in the fresh air?”
She sighed. “I know you have work that needs doing. You don’t have to babysit me.”
He grinned and held up the bridles. “Didn’t you hear me tell Seth just now that I’m walking over to the Arnett farm to deliver these?”
His grin vanished. He flushed a deep red. “You couldn’t have heard that. I’m sorry. That was an inconsiderate thing to say.”
Someone to Trust Page 5