Elijah And The Widow (Lancaster County Weddings 4) (7 page)

Chapter Eight

D
uring the days that followed, Martha baked, cooked and did other chores while the Lapps worked on the repairs outside. Their time on the job took on a pattern. Each day the men arrived early to find that she’d left them muffins and bread along with a pot of coffee with fixings and mugs. Later she emerged from the house to pick up their empty dishes. At noon she brought them lunch, and in the afternoon she put out drinks and snacks. Samuel continued to tell her that she shouldn’t go through the trouble, but much to her delight the man and his sons ate whatever she’d made for them.

It was a sunny and warm Friday. Eli and Isaac arrived earlier than usual. Birds chirped as they scattered about the lawn, stopping occasionally to dig for bugs and worms in the dirt. Martha knew of the Lapps’ arrival before she heard Eli’s knock. It was always Eli who came to see her first thing. Catching a glimpse of him through the window, she tapped on the glass to gain his attention. “I’ll be right there.”

He nodded, and when she opened the door, he smiled at her. “We’re back. Just Isaac and me today.”

Martha was glad to see him. “You’re getting an early start. You must have things to do elsewhere.” Given the price Samuel had given her, she worried whether he or Eli made enough money doing this job. She couldn’t forget that he’d been working for his future carriage shop.

“
Nay.
Not today. Don’t worry. We’ll get your job done.”

She averted her gaze from the warmth in his blue eyes. As Eli turned to leave, Martha burst out impulsively, “Do you like egg salad?”

He paused and looked at Isaac, who nodded. “
Ja
, we love egg salad.”

“About noon?”

“We’ll be hungry then,” he said with a grin.

“Then I will see you at noon.” She opened the door to enter the house but then halted to look back. “Let me know if I can get you anything before then.” She hadn’t expected them this early, so she’d yet to put out food for them.

“We had a
gut
breakfast,” Eli assured her.

She nodded and went inside. His smile made her heart beat rapidly. She felt breathless...tingly...alive.

* * *

Eli was aware of the scent of Martha’s knockout roses as he worked to remove the paint from the trim surrounding the front door. The red blossoms were growing on each side of the front steps. Every time the breeze blew, he got a whiff of their perfume and thought of Martha.

He took off his hat, set it on the steps and ran both hands over his scalp. Closing his eyes, he fought the images that constantly invaded his mind.
Martha chasing sheep. Martha seated on the ground laughing, dirty, appealing. Martha struggling to hold Millicent to keep the goat from escaping.

The way she continually became the sole focus of his thoughts disturbed him. Eli fought to concentrate on the job. He wondered why Ike had used wooden trim instead of metal or vinyl. When he’d first heard of the work, he’d been happy to take the job because it meant earning money to add to his carriage shop funds. Now he was also glad to be helping Martha.

Eli paused to stretch before he went back to work. The old paint was coming off the wood nicely. He worked on the front door trim while Isaac did the same labor around the back door. He stopped to check on his brother. They had been on opposite sides of the house for most of the morning.

“How are you managing?” he asked as he approached.

Isaac stopped and looked at him.
“Gut.”

He could see that his brother was doing a great job. “Nice work.”

“Then let me get back to it,” his brother said good-naturedly.

The back door opened suddenly, catching them both by surprise. Martha stuck her head in the opening. “Hungry yet?”

“Ja,”
Isaac said.

“Egg salad?” Eli pushed up the brim of his hat to better see her.

“With or without lettuce and tomato?”

“Lettuce and tomato,” he and Isaac answered at the same time.

Martha disappeared into the kitchen, closing the door behind her. Through the window screen, they could hear her moving about as she made their lunch.

Within minutes, she had fixed their lunch, and to Eli’s surprise, she invited them inside to eat.

“We’re dirty from the work.” Eli wanted nothing more than to sit at her table, but he felt too grimy.

Martha went back inside. “Brush off your clothes,” she said when she came back out with soap and towels. “Use the pump out back to wash up.”

Eli nodded; he’d used the pump before. This time, since she’d invited then to her kitchen table, he took extra pains to wash thoroughly—and twice. He wet and lathered his hands and forearms with Martha’s homemade scented soap. Then he rinsed them under the water that Isaac pumped out for him. “I need to wash my face, too,” he told his brother. He took off his hat and put it out of the water’s reach. Then he cupped his hands to capture the running water, splashed it on his face and across the back of his neck. He lathered both areas and rinsed them by sticking his head fully under the water. As the cold water washed over his head and neck, he laughed. He straightened, met Isaac’s amused gaze and said, “Your turn.” And he handled the pump as his brother washed up.

Martha stood at the door, studying them through narrowed eyes as they toweled themselves dry. “And do
ya
think you’ll be coming into the house wet like a cat caught in a rain shower?”

Eli felt his face turn red. He’d wanted to be clean before entering her house; he’d never given any thought to what water would do to her floor and furniture.

“We’ll eat out here.” He looked away, stung by her scolding.

Martha grinned. “Both of you come inside. Can’t
ya
tell when someone is teasing you?”

Eli widened his eyes, delighted. Some folks thought her plain, but he thought she was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. Especially when her eyes sparkled as she smiled or laughed.

He dried his head and nape with the towel Martha gave him. The terry cloth smelled of laundry detergent and fresh air, a scent he imagined would be on all her linens and towels. He followed Isaac into the kitchen. “Do you have a couple of extra towels?” he asked when she came into the room from the front of the house.

“Ja.”
She appeared to be gauging how many towels they’d need. She disappeared into another area of the house and returned with a stack of blue folded terry cloth. “These should be enough.”

Eli’s lips twitched. “Appears to be.” He took a towel from the pile for his brother and one for himself.

Martha watched them as they finished drying, then declared, “
Gut
enough.” She gestured toward the kitchen table. “Come and sit.”

Eli studied the two chairs that had been pulled out near place settings. Martha had set two towels on each of their chairs.

Eli stared at the towels. His lips curved as he captured Martha’s gaze. “Are
ya
certain that you don’t want to add another towel or two to our seats?” His hands and arms were dry. His hair was damp; his pants were bone-dry. Her decision to pad the chairs with this many towels amused him.

Martha opened her mouth, then shut it. To his surprise, she blushed. “Sit down and eat your lunch.”

“
Ja
, Martha,” Eli said at the same time as Isaac. Their chorused answer made them chuckle. Martha joined in and seemed happy to share a meal with them. When they were done eating, Eli reluctantly rose. He’d enjoyed eating in Martha’s kitchen, watching as she and Isaac carried on a conversation while he listened quietly. “It’s getting late. Time to get moving again.” He glanced at her approvingly. “
Danki
, Martha.”

Isaac thanked Martha and they went back to work. There was still much to do.

The afternoon went quickly. As he sanded the door frame and then put on a fresh coat of paint, Eli found his gaze straying toward Martha, who had come outside to work in her garden. He tried to concentrate on the job but found his attention drawn often toward Ike’s widow.

“Eli.” Isaac held the base of the ladder as Eli carefully painted second-story window trim from an upper run.

Satisfied with his finished work, Eli climbed down until he was eye level with his brother.
“Ja?”

“It’s getting late. How much longer are you planning to stay?”

Eli glanced in Martha’s direction. “We can leave. We’ve done enough. I’ll tell Martha.” He met her as she approached the house. “Martha, we’re calling it a day.”

Martha eyed Isaac’s earlier handiwork, where he’d scraped and sanded around the back door. “Nice work,” she said as Isaac joined them.

Isaac looked pleased. “
Danki.
Tomorrow I’ll put on another coat of paint.”

She seemed relaxed as they packed up their tools and stored them in the back of their wagon. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Eli was overwhelmed with a sense of pleasure at the thought of returning the next day. “
Ja
, we’ll see you then.”

* * *

It was a beautiful morning. Martha had done on a load of wash at dawn and now she enjoyed the warmth of the sun as she pinned the garments to the clothesline. The Lapp brothers had been coming for more than a week now, and she expected them to arrive within the hour. The sound of an approaching horse-drawn vehicle caught her attention. She pinned the dress, left her laundry basket in the grass and went to meet the buggy driver, who had parked in her barnyard. To her surprise, Eli stepped out of vehicle and tied up his horse alone.

She blushed. The two-wheeled carriage he’d driven resembled the type used for courting. She pulled herself together. Eli didn’t notice her approach; she was able to study him freely. Martha noted his tanned forearms below the sleeves of his maroon work shirt. He wore navy tri-blend trousers with black suspenders. He reached to retrieve his tool belt, and she caught a glimpse of his nape below his blond hair. He turned and grinned when he saw her standing within a few yards away.

“Martha!
Guder marriye!
” He looked glad to see her.

Martha’s pulse started to thrum. “
Gut
morning, Eli. Working alone today?”

“
Ja.
Jedidiah had to work with Matt today. Isaac is helping
Dat
on the farm. Noah would have come, but he has an order to finish for Bob Whittier.”

Bob Whittier, a local store owner, often helped members of their Amish community. He drove them whenever there was an emergency and frequently allowed them to use his phone free of charge for important calls.

“Why aren’t you helping your
vadder
?”

“He says he doesn’t need my help.” Eli reached into the cart, picked up his hat and placed it on his head. “I’d rather be here.” She caught the twinkle in his blue eyes. “You pay me to work.” His smile held pure masculine appreciation.

She gasped. Was Eli flirting with her? She sighed, affected despite herself. The ability to flirt came to him naturally. She felt a pleasant prickling along her spine. She recalled him, grinning, laughing and surrounded by girls. He was a good-looking charmer, and she wasn’t immune.

“What are you planning to do today?” she asked as he continued to smile at her. Butterflies fluttered in her belly, and she felt her cheeks warm. “Finish painting and few items on
Dat
’s list.” He studied her for a long moment. His smile disappeared. “I’ll get to work.”

Martha wondered if she’d offended him as he walked away only to halt, glance briefly back and move on. She watched him as he headed to the barn and returned within minutes with a can of paint and other paint tools. He walked with bent head until he drew closer and glanced up. Martha went back to her basket of wet laundry. As she pinned up some towels and a set of bed sheets, she flashed a look in Eli’s direction.

What is it about this man that makes me unable to ignore him?
A man who could have any girl he wanted—she had seen the proof of it last visiting Sunday. She recalled the two men who had hurt her and made her life difficult.

Not again.
It wouldn’t happen a third time.
Not with anyone.
She sighed and forced her attention back to hanging laundry, but she remained aware of the man working within several yards of her.

Chapter Nine

E
li poured white paint into a roller tray. Wetting the paint roller thoroughly, he began to whitewash over faded sections of the house’s exterior. The weather was perfect. The sunshine felt warm, but the day’s humidity was low. He frowned as he found his gaze straying frequently to Martha at the clothesline and then later in her vegetable garden. He had seen something in her eyes that had bothered him. Usually he enjoyed talking with her, teasing her, but this morning she hadn’t seemed to appreciate his good humor. She’d withdrawn from their conversation until he’d figured he should get to work and leave.

Since starting this job, he’d woken up each morning eager to head back to her farm. He was glad to be earning money. But more than that, he liked knowing that he was doing something important for Martha. He didn’t know why it gave him satisfaction, but it did.

He experienced an odd settling in the pit of his stomach as he studied her. She wore a black apron over a pink dress and a simple navy kerchief over her dark hair.

Had he said something to offend her? Was that why in the midst of their conversation she’d become distant, reserved?

She looked up suddenly as if she’d sensed him watching her. He glanced away, unwilling to be caught staring. He checked again and couldn’t look away as she set down her spade and approached. Heat washed over him as she drew closer. He was embarrassed to be caught staring after their last encounter.

“I didn’t realize it was so late,” she said. “You must be hungry.”

He was startled by the myriad of thoughts running through his head. “A little,” he admitted.

“Do you like strawberry jam sandwiches?”

“I love strawberry jam,” he said with a slow smile.

She returned his smile, and he felt instantly better than he had all morning. “Give me a minute to wash up and I’ll fix lunch. I’ll leave the soap and towel on the steps.”

He watched as she entered the house, and he carefully set his roller pan out of the sun. Then he washed up at the pump.

A short time later, Martha appeared with two sandwich plates. “Here we are.” She moved toward the wooden bench on the edge of her garden, expecting him to follow. He did but was slow to do so.

“I thought we’d eat here,” she suggested as she set down their plates in the middle of the bench. “I’ll get our drinks and be right back.”

“Do you want me to get them for you?”

She shook her head. Eli watched as she entered the house and returned with lemonade. She handed him the two glasses. He placed them carefully on the ground within easy reach, and then he took a bite of his sandwich. A wild burst of strawberry flavor burst into his mouth complemented by Martha’s tasty homemade bread. He eyed her to gauge her mood. He felt that she was relaxed, and the tension went out of his frame. “This is the best jam sandwich I’ve ever eaten.”

She flushed prettily. “It is?”

He grinned. “
Ja
, but don’t tell my
mam
.” He took another bite, chewed and swallowed. “Have you ever thought about selling this? Not the sandwich but your strawberry jam.”

“
Nay
, it never occurred to me.” She grew thoughtful. He could almost witness the workings of her mind. “I could sell jams and jellies. I have a pantry filled with jars of several flavors.”

“Martha’s Homemade Jams and Jellies,” he said, liking it. “’Tis a
gut
name for your product. And you’ll need a label.” He took a drink from his lemonade. “You should talk first with Bob Whittier,” he said, getting into the planning stages of his idea. “He might be interested in selling them in his store.”

“Hmm,” she said, then ate her lunch, dropping the subject.

They enjoyed their lunch seated on the bench, side by side. Eli decided that sitting within a foot of her in the warmth of the spring sun was better than sitting across from her at the kitchen table. Here, this close to her, he could hear the soft sound of her breathing. Every time she stirred to take a bite or eat, he was aware of her every move. When a robin landed on the ground within three feet of them, he heard Martha catch her breath and then release it slowly. He watched with amazement as she pulled off a piece of sandwich, then threw it to the bird before she resumed eating.

All too soon lunch was over and it was time for Eli to get back to work. He studied the house, wondering where he should paint next, until Martha rose, capturing his attention.

“I’ll carry those for you,” he said as she stacked their plates and lemonade glasses.

“I can manage,” she said politely, almost too politely.

He didn’t react, although he was sad that she’d put up another invisible wall, as if she regretted sharing lunch with him outside. “The sandwich was delicious. I appreciate the trouble it took for you to make it.”

The little frown that had settled between her eyebrows eased. “I’m glad you liked it.” She bit her lip, drawing attention to her mouth. A slight breeze teased the tiny tendrils of her dark hair that had escaped from her kerchief while she was gardening earlier. She had the longest lashes, a nose that was small and rounded at the tip. He studied her mouth. Her lips were dark pink and nicely formed. He felt an odd kick to his midsection as he gazed into her brown eyes, eyes that for some reason held confusion...and maybe a little fear.

He dragged his eyes from her face to the distance, where cattle and sheep grazed in Martha’s pasture. He had no business admiring Martha’s features, no right to be thinking about her in any way other than as a woman who had hired him for a job.

Ike King had been dead for several months, he reminded himself, and Martha was his grieving widow. The sooner he finished this job, the better. His only focus should be on opening his own carriage shop. He stood abruptly. “I enjoyed the food.
Danki.
”

Something flickered in her gaze. “You’re
willkomm
.”

She left for the house, and he headed back to his roller tray. Eli felt unsettled as he watched her go.

* * *

She carried the dishes to the kitchen sink and set them in the dish basin. As she washed plates and cups, Martha gazed out the window toward the bench in the backyard.

There was no sign of Eli. She went to the window and saw that his vehicle was still parked in the yard.
I shouldn’t have sat outside with him.
She was inviting trouble by spending any time in his company that didn’t involve a discussion or an action involving the house repairs.

She went to the sink to finish the dishes. She was overwhelmed by the urge to watch Eli work but didn’t give in to it. Instead she dried the dishes and put them away before she returned to her vegetable garden.

She had knelt on a folded towel when she heard the clank of metal against wood; the noise came from the front of her house. She narrowed her gaze.
That can’t be the ladder.
Intuition had her quickly setting down her spade before she stood. With brisk strides, she rounded the house, then stopped in her tracks.

“Elijah John Lapp!” she scolded when he’d taken a step up the ladder.

He froze, climbed down and faced her. He looked like a guilty little boy who’d been caught with his hand in a cookie jar.

“Have you forgotten what happened to Horseshoe Joe?” Martha regarded him sternly with her hands on her hips. She felt herself softening at his approach.

“I was just going to fix a shutter,” he admitted. “It’s only a few feet up.”

She saw the crooked shutter in question. “Not without anyone holding your ladder.” The shutter did need to be fixed as she could tell that in its present condition she wouldn’t be able close or secure it against high winds and heavy rains. “Can’t fixing it wait until Isaac’s here?”

“Ja.”

“Gut,”
she said firmly. “Please put the ladder away. I’d hate to see you fall and injure yourself.”

He suddenly grinned, and Martha felt a sudden shift in her heart rhythm from even to rapidly unsteady. She was suddenly taken by how handsome he was, his close proximity to her and the warmth of him emanating across the distance separating them.

Her face grew hot with embarrassment.

His expression went soft. “You care about me.”

She swallowed hard, shocked by his statement. “I care about all of my friends.”

“Friends,” he murmured. “I’m glad to know you consider me a friend.”

Startled by his sudden shift in mood and the conversation, Martha could only stare at him. She frowned. “I have work to do,” she said stiffly.

He appeared to be amused. “As do I.”

“We ate lunch late. What time are you leaving?”

Eli raised an eyebrow. “Are you asking me to leave?”

“Nay!”
Her face burned like fire. “But you shouldn’t feel as if you have to stay late.”

“It’s only late if I think it is, and I don’t,” he said. He paused, his expression changing. “Maybe it is time for me to go.” He seemed to watch her closely as if he’d hoped she’d encourage him to stay. She didn’t. “I’ll put the paint and tools into the barn.”

“Put them wherever you’d like.” She turned, eager to get some distance between her and this man who was having a strange effect on her. She left him for her garden to finish planting her tomato and pepper plants. Eli stayed in her thoughts as she continued to plant her seedlings. Later, after she’d realized that he must have left, she relaxed. She didn’t expect him to say goodbye. He had already told her that he was leaving.

Suddenly he was there at the edge of her vegetable garden, making her gasp at his unexpected presence. The man hadn’t gone after all.

“Martha.”

She stood, her heart thundering in her chest.
“Ja?”

“Do you need help?”

“Gardening?”

He nodded. “I have some time before I have to be home for supper.”

“That’s kind of you, Eli, but I’m finished for the day.” The last thing she needed was to spend more time with Eli Lapp.

He reviewed her day’s handiwork. “You should water them.”

She looked at him, slightly annoyed. “I plan to.” Was it all men who gave instructions without being asked?

“I’ll help you. Do you have a watering can?” He grinned, and she realized that he’d cornered her into reluctantly accepting his help.

“I use a bucket.”

He looked about as if searching for it. “Where is it?”

“In the barn.” She gazed at him, surprised by him, not for the first time. There were many facets to Elijah Lapp.

Eli headed toward the barn and was back within moments, having found the bucket easily. He filled it at the outside water pump. Then he carried it to her garden and gently poured a generous amount of water over each seedling and plant.

Martha quickly went into the house for an iced tea pitcher and filled it with water at the kitchen sink.

Despite her hope that he would go, Eli stayed, and they watered plants together, he using the bucket, she the pitcher, refilling their containers at the pump, until every seeding was thoroughly watered with a good chance for survival.

When they were done, Eli silently returned her bucket to the barn. She set the pitcher on the steps and then waited. After his help, it was the least she could do. After he came back, they walked together toward his buggy without a word.

“That was kind of you to help with my plants,” she finally said. He didn’t answer her at first, and she wondered what he was thinking.

“’Tis easy to be kind to you, Martha,” he said quietly. Before she had a chance to react, he climbed into his vehicle and waved. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

She watched him leave with a flutter in her chest and warmth in her heart. The man was too easy to like. She couldn’t help that she did.

Friends, he’d said.
I will enjoy his friendship and that is all.

She didn’t want to think about how she’d feel one day years from now when Eli decided to court and marry one of those young girls who gravitated toward him at Sunday and church gatherings. Martha frowned. She didn’t want to think about any of that now or anytime soon.