The Amish Bachelor's Choice. Jocelyn McClay
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It didn’t take long before the familiar sounds and smells of the workshop lulled Ruth into her version of peace. Surprisingly, the morning went fast. Malachi didn’t come near her, although he worked and visited with the men. Every time someone entered the sales shop, he looked over at Ruth, who always stopped what she was doing and went to greet the potential customer.
Having forgotten her lunch at home and not wanting to leave the shop during that break as she’d arrived late, Ruth took advantage of the empty office off the showroom to eat an apple she’d left in there when she’d been the sole resident. Looking out through the observation window into the showroom and farther to the street, she could see snowflakes joining the whipping wind. Ruth shivered. What a change in a day, but that was Wisconsin weather.
Wiping her hands with a napkin after disposing of her apple, she sighed. He still hadn’t spoken to her. She wasn’t sure what that meant. He hadn’t come by to check the work she was doing. Did that mean he trusted her, or did it mean that it wouldn’t matter what she did, so he didn’t care? It shouldn’t matter to her, as she was leaving. But she liked to know—no, she needed to know—where she stood on things. Squaring her shoulders, she ran her hands down her apron. Well, if he didn’t talk to her this afternoon, she’d go talk to him.
On her way back to her workstation, Ruth paused to observe the two brothers, who were preparing to bore bolt holes for the frame on an oak headboard. Malachi’s siblings were a good-looking pair. Like their brother, she thought to herself. It said in the book of Samuel that man looks on the outward appearance, but Gott looks at the heart. The new owner’s—Malachi’s—heart was probably good, something she had yet to discover, but his appearance was...distracting. And she didn’t need or want distractions. Not of that nature.
Absently watching the brothers work, she abruptly straightened. They might be good-looking, but they were boring the holes on the wrong side of the bedpost. Ruth strode over.
“They need to go on the other side.”
The older one looked up from the drill he’d pressed against the wood and swiveled his head toward her. The younger one lifted his safety glasses to the top of his blond hair.
“What?” Their inquiry came at her in a duet.
“You’re boring the holes on the wrong side of the post. This headboard has beveled panels on the side facing the mattress. If you bore the holes for the frame there—” she pointed to where the drill bit rested “—the design will be facing the back of the bed, probably pressed against a wall. Benjamin did too good a job on the panels’ bevels to have them adorned with cobwebs against a wall.”
The brothers looked at her as if she had two heads. Ruth put her hands on her hips. Didn’t they have any women with brains in Ohio? Their gazes flicked behind her. Ruth didn’t have to look to know who was approaching. She could tell by the tingling that moved up her neck. Malachi must be focusing his judgmental blue eyes on her again.
“What seems to be the issue?” he asked mildly, moving into her peripheral view. She didn’t turn her head.
The older brother nodded toward her. “She says we’re putting it on backward.” His tone implied that she couldn’t possibly know what she was talking about.
Other sounds of the workshop filled the room, but their little knot was silent as Malachi’s encompassing gaze swept over the headboard. Sweat gathered between her shoulders.
“She’s right.”
“What?” the siblings echoed again.
“There’s a design on the side opposite of where you’re drilling. You’d have put it on backward. If you aren’t going to use your two sets of eyes, at least check things twice before you drill. Or cut. Or anything else.” He looked over at her. “Thanks for the catch, Ruth.”
“Even though the business won’t have my father’s name on it anymore, I still want it to be thought of as having superior craftsmanship and service.” Ruth started for the back of the shop. She stopped abruptly. Sweet words. A smile. She sighed heavily. Oh, Mammi, how wise you were. Head bowed, she strode back the way she came until brown shoes under blue cloth pants came into view. Tilting her chin up—way up, it seemed—she met his eyes. “Thank you for your support. I appreciate it. I...I didn’t mean to be...snappish.”
His gaze held hers. Ruth’s heart thudded in quiet beats until he spoke. “I want the business to be successful and well respected, too.” He paused, as if he was going to say more, but then he seemed to think better of it and just nodded.
Ruth took that as the end of the awkward situation, turned on her heel and headed back to where she would attempt to lose herself in the wood. And to try not to worry about the business. Or the pup. Or—she glanced through the glass portion of the door at the increasing volume of whipped snow outside—the weather.
Malachi’s lip twitched as he watched the diminutive figure stride away. That had to have been hard for her, Miss Nothing-Good-About-Having-You-Here. But she’d done it. His eyes narrowed as he watched her expertly resume the project she’d been working on. He’d been talking with his new employees. To every query, the response was the same: “Ask Ruth. She’ll know.” Was there any part of the business the woman didn’t have her hand in? He could tell from the tone of the unprompted responses that she was respected.
He hadn’t talked with her this morning. She’d looked like a cornered badger when she’d come in late. If she thought she’d been snappish a moment ago, he was thankful he hadn’t approached her then. From his conversations with the men, he’d determined that she was always the first to arrive. So something must’ve happened this morning. She seemed more straightforward than to slacken her efforts just because ownership had changed. The recent interaction showed she cared about the future of the business. The question remained, would she have a future in it?
“Who’s she?”
Malachi turned to see his twenty-one-year-old brother watching Ruth as she assembled what appeared to be a small rolltop desk at the back of the workroom.
“The previous owner’s daughter.”
Samuel rolled his eyes. “Oh, no. Not one of those again.”
Malachi allowed a small smile in commiseration of the sentiment. “Ja.”
“She going to haunt your steps like the other one did?”
His eighteen-year-old brother, Gideon, joined the observation of the auburn-haired woman, who fortunately wasn’t aware of the scrutiny. If she glanced up, the “cornered badger” look would return, complete with hisses and snarls, Malachi thought as his smile progressed to a one-sided grin. Actually, Malachi mused, the analogy fitted pretty well. Badgers were small in stature, protective, blunt and aggressive. Like someone he’d recently met.
“She’s not as pretty as Leah.”
Malachi’s smile evaporated at Gideon’s comment. Yes, with her blond hair and thick-lashed eyes, the daughter of his boss in Ohio had been very attractive. But for some reason, the comparison to Ruth seemed unfair.
“This one works here. It couldn’t be much worse.”
“Samuel, what could’ve been worse is if she hadn’t caught your mistake and we created an error for a customer on our first day on the job. Or had to waste labor and materials to do it over.” The younger men’s eyes dropped before their brother’s steady gaze.
“Ja. You’re right about that.”
“Is the quality of work something I need to be concerned about going forward?”
“Nee. If only to make sure that she doesn’t catch us at it again.” Samuel nodded toward the back of the room.