Plain Admirer. Patricia Davids

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.

      As she stared at him, he saw her eyes were an unusual shade of gray-green. They seemed to shift colors according to the light or perhaps her mood. Why hadn’t he noticed that about her before now? Maybe because she was always looking down or away. A raindrop struck her cheek and slipped downward like a tear.

      For a moment, she didn’t say anything, then she nodded and wiped her face. “A lift would be most welcome.”

      “Goot. Where can we take you?” He was ashamed to admit he didn’t know where she lived.

      “I’m