A Husband For Mari. Emma Miller

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Название A Husband For Mari
Автор произведения Emma Miller
Жанр Современные любовные романы
Серия
Издательство Современные любовные романы
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781474047999



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      James glanced at Zachary again. “Sounds like what I’m hearing you say is that you might like to earn a little money. And be a help to your mom.” He didn’t know that the bit of pocket change Zachary might earn would really help Mari’s situation, but he did know that even a boy Zachary’s age wanted to feel as if he was needed. “Take some of the strain off her?”

      “Yeah. That would be good,” Zachary agreed.

      James crossed his arms over his chest. “And from me and my crew.” Again, he was quiet before he went on, “Zachary, I think your mom was pretty upset when she left for work. This move, losing her home and all, has been pretty tough on her. I think maybe she could use a hug from you when she gets home.”

      “Probably.” Zachary looked thoughtful.

      “I don’t know why you quarreled, but a man’s got to show respect to his mother.”

      Zachary looked up at him. “I’m a boy, not a man.”

      “But you’re old enough to have responsibilities. And it looks to me as though the most important one is to take care of her. Treat her right.”

      He twisted his mouth thoughtfully. “Guess I should say sorry when she comes home tonight.”

      “Sounds good to me. So let’s shake on it, you doing some work for me.” James extended his hand and Zachary took it. Zachary had a firm grip, and James liked that. “But if you’re serious about working with my crew, you’d better go put that barn coat on. All of my men come dressed for work, no matter the weather.”

      “Okay,” Zachary agreed. He grabbed the jacket and put it on. “What’s your name?”

      “James. James Hostetler.”

      “I’m Zachary. Zachary Troyer.”

      “Glad to have you on my crew, Zachary.” He didn’t allow his amusement to show in his expression. Zachary Troyer, he mused. Not so different from us after all. James had never met a Troyer who wasn’t Amish or who didn’t have Amish ancestry. Maybe Zachary wasn’t as far away from home as he thought.

      When the van dropped Mari off at Sara’s after work, she had them let her off at the end of the lane to give herself a couple of minutes to decompress. Her day had been hectic and overwhelming; but she was definitely going to like the job. Gideon and Addy Esch were good people to work for, just as James had said they would be. Gideon laughed and teased her so much, she wasn’t always sure how to take him. And Addy had seemed pleased with her, though it was obvious she was going to be the one who would be a stickler for doing things the way she liked them. Still, it had been a fun first day at work, and Mari was looking forward to seeing everyone at the shop the next morning.

      Inside Sara’s house, Mari found the kitchen a beehive of activity. The delicious smells of baked ham, biscuits and gingerbread swirled through the kitchen. Pots steamed and dishes clattered as Sara, Jerushah and Ellie stirred and tasted. Mari was pleasantly surprised to find that Zachary was part of the activity, carefully placing silverware on either side of blue-and-white willow-pattern plates at the large table. And just as James had predicted, he seemed perfectly content.

      “How was your day, Zachary?” Mari walked over to the table. She wanted to hug him or at least to ruffle his hair, but she didn’t want to embarrass him in front of the others.

      “It was good,” he said enthusiastically. “I helped work on the addition! I learned how to use a level and how to swing a hammer.” He talked faster and faster as he went, as if he had so much so tell her that he was afraid he’d leave something out. “James’s hammer was kind of big, but he said he had one at home my size that he’d bring tomorrow. Not a toy hammer. A real one. One that fits better in my hand. A good weight for me, James said. He said I could call him James. That’s okay, right? He says that’s the way they do it here. Amish people. Kids call adults by their first names.”

      Mari couldn’t resist a big grin. Zachary was so excited and happy that she barely recognized him as the sulky boy who had ridden in the van with her from Wisconsin a few days ago.

      “And, oh!” Zachary put down the handful of silverware and dug in his pocket, coming up with a five-dollar bill and some ones. “See. I made money, too.” He pushed it into her hand and beamed at her. “For you. You know. To buy us stuff we need.”

      Tears sprang to Mari’s eyes. Zachary could be such a kindhearted boy. She didn’t know why she worried so much about him; he really was a good kid. “Honey, you earned that money,” she said gently, holding it out to him. “It’s yours to buy what you want. You could save for a handheld video game or something like that.”

      He thought for minute and then shook his head. “I think we better save it for a car, but I can hang on to it for us.” He put the money back in his pocket and reached for the silverware, then dropped his hands to his sides.

      Mari knew that look on his face. He’d done something wrong. Her heart fell. If Zachary couldn’t behave himself when he was at Sara’s, she didn’t know what she was going to do. She exhaled. “You have something to tell me?” she asked quietly.

      He nodded, staring at the floor. But then he looked up at her. “I just wanted to say I was sorry.” He spoke so softly that Mari had to lean over to hear him. “I shouldn’t have been mean to you this morning. I should have gone and gotten my hoodie when you told me to.”

      “Oh, Zachary.” Mari couldn’t help herself. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly. “I know this is hard, and I’m so proud of you.” She kissed the top of his head before letting go of him.

      “James says it’s important that a man know how to say he’s sorry.” He picked up the silverware and went back to setting the table.

      Mari just stood there for a minute, her heart just a little too full for words.

      “What a good boy you are to want to give to your family,” Sara pronounced enthusiastically. “I know your mother appreciates it.” Then to Mari she said, “Glad to have you home—supper’s almost ready. We’re all eager to hear about your first day.”

      “Let me run upstairs and clean up,” Mari said as she retreated from the kitchen. “I’ll be right back down.”

      In the room Mari shared with Zachary, she hung up the two new plum-colored aprons bearing the butcher shop’s logo. Then she slipped out of her work sneakers and into the only other pair she had.

      As Mari tied her shoes, she thought about her day. It had been overwhelming but fun, too. She just hoped she’d be able to live up to Addy’s expectations, which were pretty high. But she knew she could do it. She would do whatever she needed to do and learn whatever they wanted her to learn. The other employees were pleasant, including the butchers who worked in the plant, and she thought that dealing with a mix of Amish and English customers would be interesting. She did have experience taking orders because she’d worked at another job several years earlier where she sat at a computer all day selling items advertised on television. But she much preferred working face-to-face with people, and she liked meeting new challenges.

      The job would be fine, she assured herself as she ducked into the bathroom to wash her hands and tidy up her hair. She and Zachary had been through a lot of bad stuff, but things were looking up since they moved to Delaware. It had definitely been the right decision; she knew that now. And maybe Zachary was beginning to see that, too. She was so relieved to come home to Sara’s and find him smiling instead of sulking in their room. And the idea that he wanted her to have his money and then had apologized for his behavior that morning... It made her heart swell. And it also made her realize that she had some thanking to do, as well.

      Once presentable, Mari hurried back downstairs and into the kitchen. “Sara, what can I do to help get supper ready?”

      “Could you go outside and hunt down James—you