A Husband For Mari (The Amish Matchmaker 2) (14 page)

“James asked you to marry him?” Mattie asked, clearly shocked.

“No.” Mari shook her head. “Someone approached Sara to make a possible match between James and me.” She gave a little laugh that was without much humor. “The person who hired Sara wanted to remain unnamed. I actually wondered if it was you.”

“But James didn’t initiate it?”

She shook her head.

Mattie crossed her arms over her chest. “I see.”

Mari leaned down and picked up the bench. “I should get this to a table. It looks like it’s time for the first seating.”

Mattie sighed. “Mari, it wasn’t my intention to hurt you. I only—”

“It’s all right, Mattie.” Mari didn’t look at her. “I understand. You’re only looking out for James and I’m glad.” Emotion filled her voice. “I’m glad you are, because he deserves that. Now if you’ll excuse me.” Then she walked away.

Chapter Thirteen

A
fter the morning services, James joined some other men outside and stood in the open carriage shed talking to Charley Byler. The sky looked as if it was going to rain. Church elders, married men and visitors were already seated in the chair shop, being served by the women. James usually waited until the second seating so that he could eat with his younger friends. Charley was telling him and the others about a new driving mare that he’d bought but James was only half listening.

Mari hadn’t come to church with Sara and Ellie. Sara had explained that Mari hadn’t been feeling well. James had been concerned and tempted to go check on her, but then had thought better of it. He could only imagine what Mattie would have to say. And Sara had assured him it was nothing for him to worry about. But then Mari had appeared, just as service began. Had she really just been feeling poorly, then felt better and decided to come after all, or was she experiencing spiritual doubts? When James first returned, even though he knew it was right for him, it still wasn’t easy.

“James?”

He looked to see Mattie standing apart from the group of men. “Could I speak to you?”

She had one of the twins in her arms. Presumably, one of the other women had the other infant and the two older boys. That was the thing about community. A mother of young children could always count on help at any gathering. Relatives, friends and neighbors were always prepared to care for hungry, tired or rambunctious kids.

“Mattie looks like someone plucked the feathers off her favorite setting hen,” Charley said, elbowing James playfully in the side.

James chuckled as he walked to meet her. But Charley was right. He could see by her strained face that she was upset. He wondered if one of the boys had misbehaved. “Something wrong?” he asked.

She motioned toward their buggy on the far side of the yard. Drops of rain sprinkled across his face. “I need to talk to you. Privately.”

He glanced around. There were men in the barn, teenagers near the back of the house, women walking between the house and the building that housed the chair shop and factory. “Too cold out here in the yard for the baby,” James said, taking the infant from her. The child was bundled in blankets, but the wind had turned raw. “Wait,” he said. “Over there.” He led the way to a toolshed. Inside, it was sheltered against the weather. He closed the door behind them. “Now, what’s so important that—”

“I’ve been talking to Mari Troyer,” she interrupted. He could barely see her face in the shadowy shed, but her posture was stiff, and he could almost feel the heat of her anger. “She said that someone approached Sara about a match for her. With you. When were you going to tell me? After the banns were read?”

He looked at her in disbelief and shook his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You know how I feel about this. I like Mari, but she’s not right for you. Marriage is all about families. And if you marry her, you could tear our family apart.” She gazed up at him, her eyes teary. “Are you willing to risk that?”

James was caught between feeling bad that Mattie was so upset and a strange excitement. Someone thought he and Mari should court? Who? Who would go to the matchmaker without telling him? It didn’t make sense. Mari wasn’t even a member of the church yet. Anyone who knew him well enough to know he secretly carried feelings for Mari would know he would never marry outside the church. He gazed down at his sister. “You’re telling me that
Mari
told you that? You must have misunderstood.”

“
Ne
, she told me not ten minutes ago. There’s no misunderstanding. Didn’t I warn you about this? I knew you were becoming too involved with her and her son. Was it you, James? Did you ask Sara to arrange a marriage?”

Still stunned, he stared back at her. “It’s news to me,” he said. “Who would be making a match for me?”

“I suppose she could have been telling an untruth, but she seemed sincere. She said that she’d refused the match. I don’t know what to think. Why would she say such a thing, if it isn’t true?”

Mari refused?
His heart sank. “I can’t say it any plainer, Mattie. I haven’t proposed marriage to anyone. And I certainly didn’t go to Sara.”

The baby started to whimper, and he passed him back to Mattie.

“So, you didn’t ask Sara to arrange a match between you and Mari?”

“No, I didn’t.”

She hesitated. “I saw you watching her during service.”

He didn’t reply. He just stood there.

“I thought... I’m sorry, brother. I was hurt by the thought that you might ask—”

“I just told you. I didn’t.”

Mattie sighed. “I’m sorry.” She reached out with one hand and squeezed his arm. “I know you think I’m an interfering busybody. But you mean so much to me, to my children. I couldn’t bear to see you make such a mistake.”

He gazed out into the barnyard. He didn’t know why he was upset. Mari had told him they were just friends. Anything he had read into their relationship was just his own wishful thinking. “I need to straighten this out,” he told his sister.

“
Ya
, go to Sara. If Mari wasn’t honest with me, you should know it.”

“No, Sara’s not who I need to talk to.”

* * *

James found Mari in the reception area of the chair shop. She and Rebecca were carrying large pitchers of apple cider to the main showroom where the midday meal was being served. He stepped in front of her. “I have to talk to you.”

“In a few minutes?” Mari asked, her mind seeming elsewhere. “Right now I have to—”

“Now,” James insisted. He took the pitcher from her and set it down on a table that held wood-stain color charts. “Please.”

“I’ll come back for it,” Rebecca told Mari. She took one look at James and hurried off.

James took Mari’s hand. “Come with me.” Before she could protest, he led her through an office door and closed it behind them.

The room held a desk, a filing cabinet and several chairs. The outside wall was now taken up with a large window that opened on the yard. Although he didn’t turn on a light, they could clearly see people walking past the window. The thought passed his mind that they could also see him and Mari. He didn’t care.

“What is it?” Mari asked. “Has—”

Again, he cut her off. “Mattie said that you told her that someone asked Sara to arrange a match between you and me. Is that true?”

Mari stared up at him, wishing the floor would open up and swallow her. She wanted to look away, but she didn’t.

“Is it true?” he repeated.

She couldn’t tell if he was angry or hurt, but he was clearly upset. “Yes. Sara came to me and said so. She wouldn’t say who had asked her.”

“But you refused?”

Her mouth went dry. She could only nod.

“Why, Mari?” When she didn’t answer, he continued, “Is it because you’re not staying here? Because you want to take Zachary and go back to the English?”

“No.” She shook her head again. “That’s not what I want,” she whispered. “I wasn’t sure before, but I’m sure now. I belong here.”

He took hold of her shoulders. His touch was gentle but firm. She sensed that if she pulled away, he wouldn’t stop her, but she couldn’t take a step. She could feel that there was something real between them, almost as solid as if she could see and taste it.

“I need you to be honest with me. Did you say no because you think of me as only a friend?” he demanded, his eyes searching her. “That you...” He stopped and started again. “That you don’t see me any other way? That you could never see me as anything more than a friend?”

Mari didn’t know what to say. If she told him she saw him as only a friend, it would be over. She wouldn’t have to hear him tell her she’d been right in her decision. But there was something about the way he was looking at her that made her think something more was going on between them. The barest hint of possibility made her brave. “No,” she whispered. “That isn’t why I said no. But
you
said we were just friends. You said it over and over again.”

“Because
you
said we were just friends. I knew within days, hours, maybe minutes of meeting you that my feelings for you were more.”

Mari held her breath. They were practically in a fishbowl; anyone outside could see them standing so close, gazing into each other’s eyes, but she couldn’t move away from him. “I don’t know what I want,” she managed.

“I know what I want. I want you to stay in Seven Poplars,” he said quietly. “I want you to be baptized into our faith, and I want us to walk out together. And if this is what I think it is, what I feel in my heart, I want you to be my wife.”

She began to tremble. Tears clouded her eyes. “You want to marry me?” she murmured huskily. “You want to be Zachary’s father?”

“With all my heart,” he assured her. “I want to be your husband and Zachary’s father. But do you feel the same? You have to be absolutely honest here. Don’t worry about hurting my feelings.” He took a deep breath. “Are you willing to give us a chance to find out if we’re meant to be together...as a family?”

“Yes,” she answered. “Yes, I think I...” She looked down and then back up at him again. “If I could do anything, it would be marry you, love you.”

He took both of her hands in his.

“But...I need time,” Mari went on. “And
that’s
what I told Sara. It wasn’t that I didn’t...” The words stuck in her throat. “It isn’t you I’m not sure of. It’s me. I have to know that I’m coming back to the church because it’s what God wants me to do, not just because...because I think I love you.” Suddenly, she became aware of a face close to the outside of the window. “James, someone’s—”

“It’s Martha.” He looked from the window back to Mari again. “And I think we should give her something to see.” James pulled Mari against him, tipped her chin with gentle fingers and kissed her full on the mouth.

Chapter Fourteen

“W
hy are you smiling?” James asked, tilting his menu so he could see her over the top.

Mari lowered her menu. “Why are
you
smiling?” she teased, leaning over so he could hear her above the hubbub of a birthday party going on on the far side of the restaurant.

They were sitting across from each other at a table for two in a pizza place near Byler’s store. They’d made plans days earlier for him to pick her up from work and stop for supper. While they spent most of their time together in the presence of others at church, or on visiting Sunday or at a friend’s or family member’s house, they had both agreed that they would spend time together alone once a week. Now that they were officially courting, it was important to them that they spend time really getting to know each other. Secretly, they called it
date night
. It was an Englisher term the Amish never used, and Martha certainly would have disapproved, but it was a little joke Mari and James shared.

“
I’m
smiling because I’ve looked forward to this all week and now finally here you are.” He slid his hand across the table toward hers.

It was all Mari could do to make herself pull her hand away before they touched. She and James had discussed their idea of spending time alone together with both Sara and Preacher Caleb, and everyone had agreed that because of their age, it would be okay to occasionally go somewhere alone. But they had also agreed that the rules of propriety had to be followed. Among the Amish, there was no kissing until marriage, and there wasn’t supposed to be hand-holding, at least not until a wedding date was set, but since they had already broken the kissing rule in front of their entire church, they’d both agreed to take care in their physical expression of their feelings for each other.

But now that they were courting, she wanted to hold hands with him. And she wanted to hurry up and marry him just so he could kiss her again.

James sighed, frowned and glanced at his menu. “I’m so glad you like pizza. It’s one thing I haven’t been able to give up since I came back.”

“I don’t think being Amish means we can’t eat pizza.” She picked up her menu. She didn’t know why she was looking. They’d end up getting the same thing they always got: a large veggie pizza with red peppers, artichokes, mushrooms and eggplant.

“It doesn’t, but there are some people who think being in a place like this—” he lowered his voice “—where alcohol is served, is wrong.”

She nodded, setting aside her menu. She was so happy to see James; they didn’t get a chance to see each other every day. On days when she didn’t see him, it seemed as if she constantly wanted to tell him something. There were definitely times when she wished they had phones to call each other, but as Sara had pointed out to her, in some ways it made being together better. Maybe there was something to be said about absence making the heart grow fonder.

A waiter came by and took their order; sure enough, they agreed on their usual. Once he was gone, Mari leaned back in her chair. She’d dressed with extra care, wearing another new dress Sara had made her; this one was rose colored. And with it, she wore a matching scarf over her hair. “Did you ever drink alcohol when you were living among the English?” she asked him.

“I tried it.” He shrugged. “I had a beer a couple of times. I even tried a shot of whiskey once.” He shuddered. “If that’s what makes a man a man, I guess I’m not.” He slid his hand across the table again and just touched her fingertips. “You?”

“I tried one of Ivan’s beers once.” She made a face. “That was the worst stuff I’ve ever tasted in my life. I spit it out in the sink.”

He laughed with her.

“I’ve never understood why Ivan and his friends liked to drink alcohol,” she went on. “I don’t understand why they liked the way it made them act.” She looked down at their hands on the table, almost touching, yet not quite. “Ivan wasn’t a very nice person when he drank beer.”

When James didn’t say anything, she looked up at him. “I’m sorry. Does it bother you when I talk about Ivan?”

“Not the fact that you were married to him,” he explained. “Just that he didn’t treat you the way you deserved to be treated. That’s what I find upsetting.”

Mari could feel her heart swelling. James was so sweet. So kind and good to her. She could barely believe that all of this was happening. She was going to join the church and be baptized. And in a year or two, she and James were going to be married. She knew that the idea of courting was to get to know each other, but they’d agreed within days of their kiss in the chair-shop office, it was just a formality. They were getting married. There was no doubt in either of their minds.

“I try not to think about Ivan as being a big mistake, because I never felt that Zachary was a mistake. I mean...I wish we’d been married first. Before...” She met his gaze. One of the best things about James was that he was so nonjudgmental, particularly about her past. He told her all the time that what she was doing
today
, what she planned to do
tomorrow
with her life, was what mattered. She felt a faint blush. “You know what I mean. I regret Ivan, but I don’t regret Zachary.”

“Two root beers,” the young waiter announced, setting mugs on the table between them. He pulled straws out of his apron and placed them on the table. “And your pizza’s in the oven. Be right out.”

“Thanks,” James and Mari said in unison. They both laughed as they opened their straws, dropped them into their glasses and took a sip. They were always talking over each other, saying the same thing.

“Okay, so I have to admit, I’m still curious as to who went to Sara to arrange our match,” James said.

“Me, too,” Mari agreed. “But Sara won’t say a word. She said it was an agreement between her and the other party, and it was their wish that we not know.”

He played with the paper from his straw. “I just can’t imagine who it could have been.”

“Well, we know it wasn’t your sister,” she said with a grimace.

He laughed. “No, it wasn’t Mattie, but she’s coming around. I think she’s beginning to see that we really are meant to be together.”

“She’s been very nice to me. Never a harsh or critical word. I think she genuinely believes that she was looking out for your best interests when she said she didn’t think we should court.”

“She still feels guilty about that. I think that job she got me was her way of trying to make up for it.”

“Oh, the new job! I’m sorry. You met with clients yesterday. I completely forgot.” His sister had an English woman who bought eggs from them regularly and when the customer had said she was looking for a contractor to build her new house, Mattie had introduced her to James. “How did it go?”

“Great. I’m hired. We go to contract next week. I’m building a three-bedroom house with a garage. She may want a barn, as well.”

Mari clapped. “That’s wonderful news. I’m so happy for you.”

“I’m happy for
us
.” He beamed. “I’ll be able to save plenty of money. I was thinking that after we marry we’d take a trip. A honeymoon.”

She stared at him. “Do Amish do that?”

“Sure. Sometimes. Well, mostly we go visit out-of-state relatives, but I was thinking maybe we could go to the beach. You said you’ve always wanted to swim in the ocean.”

She looked down at her Amish-style dress. “I’m pretty sure the bishop wouldn’t go for me in a bathing suit.”

“So we’ll just wade in. Together.”

“Sounds wonderful,” she said, unable to take her eyes from his.

He took her hand in his before she could pull away and squeezed it before letting go. “I think every day we spend together is going to be wonderful, Mari Troyer.”

* * *

“Catch!” James, who’d been washing dishes, tossed a bowl to Mari.

“Don’t!” she warned, but the brown pottery bowl was already in the air. She made a grab for it and managed to snatch it out of the air. “Don’t do that,” she protested. “What if I’d missed?”

He laughed. “But you didn’t, did you? You have a good eye and good instincts. You need to trust yourself more.”

“Who says I don’t?”

His beautiful eyes gleamed. “We have to risk to get the most out of life.”

“I’d say I’m risking a lot walking out with you,” she teased.

He grinned at her, and her heart skipped a beat. Funny, sweet and tender, James was everything she’d ever wanted in a man. She couldn’t believe that they were officially courting. He’d made both her and her son so happy that it was like a dream come true.

James rinsed a serrated bread knife under the faucet, shook off the dripping water and raised one brow in a mischievous expression.

“Don’t you dare.”

He shrugged, offered a sad face and meekly passed the knife to her, handle first.

She suppressed a giggle, dried the knife and returned it to the wooden rack. “Sara won’t let you in her hospitality kitchen if you keep taking chances with her good dishes,” she admonished. It was a Monday evening and the two of them had volunteered to help Charley and Miriam chaperone an impromptu meeting of the Gleaners
in Sara’s barn. The youth group had met to make plans to help out elderly or infirm members of the Amish community on Saturdays. It was after 9:00 p.m. The boys and girls had already departed, and the four adults were just finishing the cleanup.

“Seriously, Mari,” James said. “You would make a good catcher. I think you should try out for the women’s softball team this spring.”

“Here in Seven Poplars? An Amish team?” He nodded, and she asked, “Are they all unmarried girls who play?”

“No. Lots of young mothers. Miriam coaches. Rebecca, Grace, even Addy plays. And Miriam—”

“What about Miriam?” She came into the kitchen with a tray of glasses. Like all Hannah’s daughters, Mari thought she was a beautiful young woman who appeared younger than her years. Miriam wore a neat plum-colored dress with a white apron and a crisp white prayer
kapp
. And, being Miriam, there was a bounce in her step. It was difficult to remember that she was old enough to be the mother of two children and not a Gleaner
herself. “This is the last of it,” Miriam pronounced. “Charley’s sweeping up.”

James took the tray. “I was just telling her about your softball team.”

Miriam chuckled. “We’re always looking for players. No tryouts. If you want to play, show up in sneakers. But I warn you, James throws a mean pitch. When we challenge the men’s team, we make them hit opposite-handed.” She beamed with good humor. “We’d love to have you join us, Mari.”

“Mari!” Charley pushed open the door from the main room. “Bishop Atlee is here to see you. You, too, James.”

“The bishop?” James looked at Mari. “Do you have any idea what this is about?”

She shook her head. She undid her apron, hung it on a hook and hurried to meet Bishop Atlee. He was the one who’d been giving her instructions on joining the church, and she was scheduled to meet him again the following night. She couldn’t imagine why he’d come to speak to her tonight.

As she approached the gray-haired man, Mari saw that his mood was somber. Behind her, Charley and Miriam called out a hasty good-night.

James glanced from the bishop to Mari. “Should I—” He hooked his thumb over his shoulder, indicating he could excuse himself.

“Ne.”
Bishop Atlee motioned to a table. “This concerns you both. I stopped at your house and Mattie told me that I’d find you here.” He took a seat at the head of the table, and she and James sat to one side, facing him.

“This is awkward,” the bishop said. “It’s not a situation I’ve encountered before, and I’ve served in Seven Poplars for years.” He was quiet for a moment, seeming to gather his thoughts. But the silence went on long enough for Mari to begin to feel uncomfortable.

“Mari,” the bishop said, “it’s my custom to always contact the previous church elders to inquire about the history of someone who wishes to become a member of our district. Soon after you began consulting with me, I wrote to your old community. I wasn’t prying. I simply had to confirm that you left your own church and entered the English world before accepting baptism.”

“Yes.” Mari nodded. “I can see how that would be something you’d need to know.” Though her running away had caused much scandal at the time, she’d been unbaptized. The difference was a difficult one for outsiders to understand. Accepting baptism into the Amish church and then leaving was a terrible sin. It meant that the person had broken their faith, not only with the community but with God. That person would be formally shunned. Members could not eat with them. They could not ride in a car or a buggy driven by the shunned person and, in most cases, would not even speak to them.

Her aunt and uncle had refused to allow her to enter their home, but everyone in the county didn’t accept their strict interpretation. Many, especially Sara, felt that Mari’s family had been unnecessarily cruel, and their beliefs and actions had not prevented her from being welcomed into the Seven Poplars Amish neighborhood.

“This afternoon, I received this letter.” He handed it to Mari. “You may read it.” And to James, he said, “I’m afraid that plans for Mari’s baptism and your marriage must be called off. She can’t marry you because the current bishop states that she was already baptized into the Amish faith. Apparently, Mari made her promise to God and later went back on her word. Then she further compounded her error by coming to Seven Poplars and Sara’s home under false pretenses.” He folded his hands and placed them on the surface of the table. “I can’t offer you membership into our church community at this time. I’m not saying it’s not possible, ever. We can sit down and talk once we’ve both had time to think, but I know you understand that this changes everything.”

Mari looked at Bishop Atlee and then back at the letter. Her hands shook so hard that she could barely make out the words. But the name at the bottom of the page was plain. The signature in tiny cramped letters was her uncle’s. “My uncle wrote this?” she managed.

“Ya.”
Bishop Atlee folded his hands. “He recently became the bishop of his church. As your senior relative and your religious leader, he felt that he had to share this information with us.”