A Man For Honor. Emma Miller
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boots, I’ll be scrubbing this floor again, too.”
He got up from the table, went out of the room and removed his shoes. “Honor,” he said as he returned in his stocking feet. His voice had lost the teasing note and become serious. “We need to talk. You know we need to talk about what happened, right?”
She shook her head. “Ne, I have nothing to say to you on that matter. It’s long in the past. As for the present, do you want the job of fixing this house? If you do a decent job at a fair wage, I’ll let you.”
“You’ll let me?”
She pressed her lips together. “I didn’t ask you to come here.”
“I couldn’t stay away.” He crossed the room to stand only an arm’s length away from her. “You have to let me explain what happened. Why I did it.”
She whirled around, hot spatula gripped in her hand, barely in control. “Ne,” she murmured. “I don’t. I’ll make use of your carpentry skills for the sake of my children. But there will be nothing more between us. Either you respect that, or you leave now.”
His green eyes darkened with emotion.
Her breath caught in her throat.
“Honor,” he said softly.
“Ne, Luke.” She looked away. “You decide. Either we have a business arrangement or none at all.”
“You know why I came back here.”
His words gently nudged her, touching feelings she’d buried so long ago.
“Luke, I can’t—”
The back door banged open and Tanner came flying in. “Eggs, Mommi. Lots of eggs. I found where the black hen had her nest.”
“Good.” Honor took a breath. “Wash your hands. Greta, put those eggs in the sink. Carefully.” She laid the spatula on the table and clapped her hands. “Breakfast will be ready in two shakes of the lamb’s tail, boys.”
Luke was still standing there. Too close. “We will have that talk,” he said so that only she heard him. “I promise you that.”
A few minutes later, her children around her, eggs fried, breakfast to put on the table, Honor’s foolishness receded and her confidence returned. “Luke, you’re welcome to a breakfast sandwich, the same as the rest of us.” She indicated the chair he had been sitting in before. “Greta, bring Anke’s high chair here.” She waved to the space beside her own seat, trusting her daughter’s sloppy eating habits to keep Luke at a proper distance, letting him see the wall between them. She ushered her family to the table, shushing the children with a glance and bowing her head for silent grace.
Please God, she whispered inwardly. Give me strength to deal with Luke, to move on with my life, to use him for what we need and then send him on his way, gracefully. She opened her eyes to find Luke watching her, and she used the excuse of her children to look away. Her heart raced as her hands performed the familiar tasks of stacking eggs, scrapple and cheese on biscuits and pouring milk for her sons and daughter.
Luke went to the stove for another cup of coffee. “Some for you?” he asked.
She hated to ask any favors of him, but she did want the coffee. She needed more than one cup to get through the morning. Reluctantly, she nodded. “Danke.”
He carried it to the table, added cream and placed the mug carefully in front of her plate. The children and Greta chattered. Anke giggled and cooed and tossed pieces of biscuit and egg onto the floor where the dog and cat vied for the best crumbs.
“I thought I’d start here in the kitchen, if that suits you,” Luke said after finishing off his second egg-and-scrapple sandwich.
“It would suit me best if you weren’t here at all,” she reminded him and then realized how ungrateful she sounded. She needed the work done. The state of the kitchen was hardly fit for her children—for anyone to prepare food or eat in. “I’m sorry,” she said. “That was unkind. Ya, it would be good if you started in here. It certainly needs it.”
So much of what Silas had promised had been left undone. And not for lack of funds, a truth she hadn’t realized until after he had passed and she had taken the family finances into her hands. They were by no means poor, as he’d always led her to believe. Whatever his reasons for making her think that, he’d taken them with him to Heaven. And it would do no good to think ill of him. “Excuse me, Anke needs tidying up. Greta, see to the children.”
She lifted a squirming Anke out of her high chair and carried her out of the kitchen and upstairs to the bathroom. There, she placed the toddler on a clean towel and proceeded to wash her face and hands, and wipe most of the egg and biscuit from her infant’s gown. “It’s going to be a new start for us, isn’t it, baby?” she said to the child. “We’ll make our house all sound and tidy and the matchmaker will find you a new daddi. Won’t you like that?”
Anke needed a father, and the boys certainly needed one. That was what she had told Sara when she’d sat down in her office over a month ago to discuss an appropriate match. They needed a father with a steady but kind hand. Honor spoiled her children. Everyone said so. And she knew she did, but that was because Silas hadn’t...
She bit off that line of thought. She wouldn’t allow herself to wallow in self-pity. She had her faith, her children and her future to think of. She summoned a smile for Anke, tickled her soft belly and thrilled to the sound of baby laughter. She’d dealt with problems before, surely some greater than having Luke Weaver in her house. She’d find a way to manage him.
“After all,” she said to her daughter, “how long can he be here? A few days? A few weeks? And then...” She lifted Anke in the air and nuzzled her midsection so that the baby giggled again. “And then we’re done with him.”
* * *
Freeman Kemp swung the bag of chicken feed into the back of Sara’s wagon. “It’s good of you to take this to Honor. Saves her a trip. And I’m glad you’re going to do repairs on the house. That farm was in bad shape when Silas bought it, and I don’t think he made many improvements before he took sick.”
“It has to be difficult for a young widow with the children, just trying to get to the daily chores,” Luke replied. “I can’t imagine trying to get to bigger projects.” He’d liked Freeman the moment he met him. Met him again. They had known each other as teenagers. Not well, but they’d once played on the same softball team.
“Our church community is getting so big that it’s time we split off,” Freeman said. “And it’s natural that those of us farther out should form the new church. We’re all hoping Honor will find a husband willing to settle here. You know how it goes. One young Amish family settles in an area and others usually follow.”
Freeman tugged the brim of his hat down to shade his eyes from the glare of the setting sun. “You know,” he said slowly. “Honor’s mourning time is over. And you’re a single man. Maybe you ought to think about courting her. ’Course you’d need a new hat.” He offered a half smile. “She’d make someone a good wife. Honor’s a sensible woman. Smart. Capable. And she speaks her mind.”
“That she does.” Luke grinned. Some men didn’t like a woman who didn’t hold back with their opinions, but he didn’t have a problem with it. In fact, he wanted a wife who could be his partner. And it was a partner’s duty sometimes to present the opposite side of an argument. “Honor and I knew each other from childhood.”
Freeman shrugged. “Sometimes that’s best. No secrets between you, then.” He hesitated, as if sizing Luke up. Then he went on. “I’ll be honest with you. I didn’t care all that much for Silas. He was moody. Always seemed an odd match to me, him being older and on the serious side. But who am I to say? My family had given me up for a lifelong bachelor until my wife, Katie, came along and set me straight. Why don’t you join us for church next month when we have service here at our place? We always appreciate