A Perfect Match (3 page)

Chapter Three

Naomi clasped her fingers around the handle of the mop, grateful that the roof had collapsed when it did. If it had happened during the winter, the small stove wouldn't do much to keep the house warm, not with cold air and possibly snow coming through the ceiling. As she made her way from the back porch to the front room, she thought about how Zeke's coat had felt around her chilly body. She had breathed in the mix of scents emanating from the sturdy, dark blue fabric. A smoky wood smell, as if the coat had been hung in front of a fire to dry. The underlying aroma of coffee, which made sense when she saw the small brown stain on the lapel as she took the coat off to change. And a scent she couldn't identify, but one that had triggered another shiver through her body. One that had nothing to do with being cold.

A pounding sound came from the front room. Knowing that even in the rain she might have customers soon, she quickened her steps. When she walked into the living room, she saw Margaret beside Zeke. He stood on tiptoe on a footstool, hammering a corner of a plastic tarp over the hole in the ceiling while Margaret held the other end. The rain had ceased, but water still dribbled, making hollow plinking sounds against the plastic.

Naomi started to ask if they needed help. Then she saw the look on Margaret's face as she gazed up at Zeke. And remembered her promise.

“Can you hand me the other end?” Zeke said to Margaret. She complied, and in a few moments he had the hole secured. He stepped down off the stool.

Naomi watched Margaret follow Zeke to the stove, never taking her eyes off him. Zeke tossed a few more pieces of coal into the stove and shut the door. Margaret moved in close and said something, but Naomi couldn't make out the words. Zeke turned to her, giving her the same polite, charming grin he'd given Naomi when they first met.

For the briefest of moments, something ugly twisted inside her. She ignored it as Zeke walked toward her, again with Margaret in tow.

“That plastic should keep the leak at bay,” he said. “Now that the rain has stopped I'll get up on the roof and fix the flashing.”

“But the roof's wet,” Margaret said, her eyes growing wide with concern. “You could slip and fall.”

Naomi had the same thoughts. Yet before she could say anything, Zeke shook his head. “I've been on all kinds of roofs. Wet ones, icy ones. I'll be careful.” He kept his hazel eyes on Naomi as he spoke. Then he flashed her a smile and went outside.

As soon as he disappeared, Margaret moved right next to her. “Where did he come from?” Excitement edged her tone. “I've never seen him before.”

“He's Chester's cousin. He arrived from Middlefield, Ohio, yesterday.” She looked at her friend, noting her dreamy expression. Whatever ugliness had appeared in Naomi's heart, it wasn't there now. Margaret was smitten.

“He's very
schee
. And nice.” Margaret's smile dipped. “I don't know why I'm even talking about him. A
mann
like him would never give me the time of day.”

“You don't know that. He could be thinking about you right now.” She put her hand on Margaret's forearm, wishing her friend wasn't so down on herself. “I think we should find out if he is.”

“But how? It's not like I can just walk up to him and ask him out on a date.”

“Leave that to me,” Naomi said. She heard the thud of Zeke's footsteps on the roof. She hoped he would keep his promise and not do anything reckless. Somehow she knew he would stay safe.

•••

Normally Zeke maintained singular focus when he was working on a roof. Any loss of concentration could result in his slipping and falling off the slanted surface. But despite his attempts at paying attention to tacking down the tar paper, he couldn't get his mind off Naomi.

He put two tacks in his mouth and positioned the tar paper in place. He'd spent the last twelve years of his life praying for God to bring the right woman along. When he was younger his prayers weren't exactly earnest—he was too busy working and didn't mind being single. But in the past couple of years, the loneliness had caught up with him.

Seeing his siblings, his friends, even men he didn't know married and with children triggered a bit of desperation inside him. Yet despite his desire to find a wife, he wouldn't settle for just any woman. Not because he had to have the most beautiful one, or the finest caretaker, or even the best cook—although being able to cook was a plus. He wanted his marriage to be blessed by the Lord, and influenced by Christ in every way. He trusted that God would let him know who the right woman was. He wasn't sure how, but he had faith. And so far he hadn't felt anything for the women he had met.

Until now.

The hammer came down on his thumb. “Ow!”

Thanks
for
the
reminder, Lord. I'll pay attention to my work from now on
.

He managed to shove Naomi out of his mind for a few moments. A buzzing sounded in his ears. He assumed it was a fly. He waved the pest off and started hammering again. Then he felt a sharp pain on the side of his neck. He slapped his hand against his skin, only to feel another stinging sensation on his left leg. Turning, he dropped his hammer.
Hornets!
He leapt up as several more stung him. He skidded down the roof, batting at the hornets. “Ow!”

“Zeke? What's wrong?”

He saw Naomi when he got to the edge of the roof. “Hornets!” he yelled. One stung him on the cheek. His foot slipped on the eave.

“Zeke!”

He regained his balance, then was stung again as he clambered down the ladder, his tool belt slapping against his waist. “Inside,” he gasped. “Quick!”

They both ran inside and shut the door. Zeke leaned against it, his breath hitching.

“Are you okay?” Her hand rested on her chest, her soft brown eyes round.

Suddenly he felt every single hornet sting at once. He shook his head, closing his eyes against the pain.

She ran up to him and grasped his arm. “How many times did you get stung? Never mind, we'll find out.” When they reached the kitchen she led him to a chair. “I need a bowl, baking soda, and a glass of water.”

“What happened?” Margaret asked, retrieving the items.

“Hornet stings.” Naomi leaned over and looked at Zeke. “One on your face for sure. Where else?”

“Neck. Arm. Leg.”

She nodded, then turned around as Margaret put the bowl on the table. In a few seconds Naomi had mixed the baking soda and water into a paste. She took some in the palm of her hand and dipped her finger in it. She applied it to the sting on his face with a gentle, confident touch.

Despite the pain, he couldn't take his eyes off her as she continued to apply the thick white paste to his neck. She was even prettier up close.

“You've been stung before,
ya
?”

He nodded. “Not like this.” He held up his forearm. A bright red dot appeared among the dark hairs.

“Are you feeling okay, other than the pain?” She paused, a thick coating of baking soda paste on her finger. “Dizzy? Nauseous?”

“
Nee
. The stings are enough.”

A knock sounded on the front door. “I'll take care of whoever it is,” Margaret said.

“I haven't had a chance to put anything out,” Naomi told her.

“It's all right. I'll tell the customer what we have.” Margaret disappeared from the kitchen.

Naomi turned her attention back to Zeke. “Where else did you get stung?”

He pointed to a spot under his collarbone. Already the pain had started to ease. The paste was doing the trick.

She moved her paste-covered finger toward his shirt, then paused, her cheeks suddenly turning red.

He looked down. His shirt collar was open, making it easy for her to slip her hand underneath the fabric and apply the paste. Instead he reached for the bowl. “I can get the rest of them, Naomi.”

“Ya.”
She stepped back, then hurried to the sink to wash her hands, not looking at him. He quickly put the paste on the stings on his chest. The one on his thigh would just have to do without. When he set the bowl on the table, she turned off the tap and dried her hands. She walked toward him, handing him the towel. He wiped off his fingers.

“I'm so sorry. I had no idea there was a hornets' nest up there.”

“I'm not sure there was.” He looked at her, touched by her concern. “They seemed to come out of nowhere.” He took off his damp hat and tapped it against his other hand.

“I'm glad you weren't stung more. Do they still hurt?”

“Not too bad. Don't worry, I'm fine.” A different kind of warmth traveled through him as he met her relieved gaze. “I'll figure out where that nest is and finish up the roof.” He started to stand.

“You don't have to do that now.” She put her hand on his arm, then jerked it back. “I mean, I don't want you to get stung again.”

“I won't. I'll make sure of that.” Zeke rose from the chair and started to leave the kitchen.

“Wait.” Naomi opened the cabinets under the sink and withdrew an aerosol can with a yellow lid. “Bug spray. Not sure if it will work on hornets, but it's worth a try.”

Two hours later Zeke was finishing the last of the repairs on the roof. He'd located the hornets' nest, which was underneath the extended roof that covered the back porch, and sprayed it down thoroughly. He hadn't been stung since. Even though the stings still smarted a bit, he wasn't going to let that keep him from finishing the job. By the end of the afternoon he'd repaired the hole in the ceiling as well. He was rolling up the plastic sheeting when Naomi came into the living room. She looked up at his repair and smiled.

“I can't thank you enough for all your help. And on your vacation too. I still feel awful about the hornet stings.”

“I survived.” He grinned. “And I didn't mind doing the job.”

“I want to repay you in some way. Other than the money for the materials, of course.” She looked up at him. “I'd like to invite you to supper at my
haus
this Saturday evening. If you're free, that is.”

“I just so happen to be free. What time?”

“Around five?”

“I'll be there.”

She nodded, her cheeks plumping as her smile widened. “I should get back to the kitchen. Margaret left a little while ago, and I've got a couple of spice cakes in the oven. Oh, I almost forgot.” She left the room, returning a moment later with his jacket. “I should have given this to you earlier. Maybe it would have helped against the hornets.”

“I doubt it.” He took the jacket and slipped it on. “Well, guess I'll see you Saturday.”

“
Ya
. See you then.”

As he walked outside, he couldn't stop smiling.

•••

Saturday evening Zeke removed his hat and smoothed down his hair, then put it back on. He stood in front of Naomi's door, suddenly a bundle of nerves. He glanced around the property, taking it in closely for the first time. The Kings didn't live too far from his aunt and uncle's house, and like them they had a nice piece of land. Naomi's small white house was situated behind the backyard, with a stone path leading from her front porch to the back of the main house. Two large maple trees had already started shedding their vibrant red, orange, and yellow leaves, but Naomi's porch, which ran the front length of the house, was spotless. Two potted orange mums were on the ground on either side of the door, and a flower box filled with marigolds hung beneath the window to the right.

Flowers. He should have brought some. Obviously Naomi liked them. But he couldn't dash out and find some now.

His palms grew damp as he reached to knock on the door. He'd been thinking about seeing Naomi as he did odd jobs on Chester's house while his cousins and uncle were at work.
Get
it
together, Lapp!

Zeke knocked on the door, then quickly ran his palms down his thighs. The door opened right away. As soon as he saw her, his anxiety disappeared.

“Come in, Zeke.” Naomi smiled and opened the door wider.

When he crossed the threshold, he inhaled the most delicious aromas, the strongest being a robust, smoky smell. Was that steak? He detected the faint scent of cinnamon and fruit. Apple pie? His mouth watered in concert with his growling belly.

“Let me take your coat.”

He handed her his jacket and hat, and she hung them on a peg next to the door.

“What would you like to drink? I have water, iced tea, lemonade, soda, and coffee.”

“Iced tea will be fine.”

She gestured to the couch in the living room. “Please have a seat, and I'll bring it to you. Supper will be ready shortly.” She smiled, then disappeared into a narrow hallway that led to the back of the house.

Zeke frowned slightly. She was acting so formal. Maybe she was a little nervous about tonight, although she seemed more distant than nervous. He wished she'd invited him into the kitchen. He'd rather talk and watch her cook than sit here waiting for her to serve him.

He perched on the sofa, his hands clasped between his knees. Glancing at the ceiling, he could see where he'd repaired the hole. It didn't look too bad, but the spot was a little whiter than the rest of the ceiling. Maybe he should offer to paint the whole thing so it would all match. The interior of the house was as neat as the outside, and simply furnished. He eyed the pale green couch, matching chair, and an end table with a plain gas lamp on top. Next to the chair was a basket filled with what looked like a neat stack of blue and white quilt strips. As he'd noticed the first time he stepped into the house, everything about the room reflected Naomi—tidy and practical.

She was the first woman he'd met who lived on her own. And he had to wonder—did she get lonely like he did? He didn't like the idea of her being here by herself, even though he could tell she was capable of living alone. But he hoped she didn't feel the same hollow loneliness he knew.