Her Amish Christmas Choice. Leigh Bale
horses before the sun rises. I had my chores at home finished and decided to get an early start here. I’m determined to repair your roof by the end of the day, although I didn’t expect this added chore.”
He chuckled and Julia stared. She thought the Amish were a very stern, serious people. She had no idea they laughed and was glad he found the situation amusing. After all, her mother had taught her there was no use crying over spilled milk. It was better to just clean it up and move on. It seemed that Martin was of the same inclination.
She laughed, too, suddenly so grateful he was here. Since her broken engagement and her father’s death, she’d felt so alone in the world. It was nice to have someone capable to depend on.
“Well, accidents are bound to happen now and then,” she said.
“You’re very understanding.”
He stood to his full height and she gazed up into his eyes. With the early morning sunlight gleaming at his back, it highlighted his red hair and seemed to accent the shadows of his handsome face. She was caught there, mesmerized for several moments. Then, she mentally shook herself. After all, Martin was Amish and she wasn’t. They could never be more than friends. It was that simple.
“How will we clean the wood siding?” she asked, forcing herself to look away.
“I believe I have some sand paper in my toolbox. If I’m careful, I can take off just the bare layer of paint without damaging the wood and no one will know it was ever there.” He indicated the box sitting nearby.
Opening the lid, he pulled out a sheet of gritty paper and a hand sander. While Julia swept up the dust, he sanded the porch just enough to get the paint off. The work delayed them by an hour but Martin didn’t say a word when it came time to climb up and check the roof.
“Martin, I’m grateful for your dedication, but I’d like to suspend your next task for thirty minutes, please,” Julia said.
Poised at the bottom of the ladder, his forehead furrowed in a quizzical frown. “What do you need me to do?”
She smiled, resting a hand on the side of the ladder so near to his own. “I think it’s time we retire this rickety old thing. Would you mind going to the supply store and purchasing a good, solid ladder that will ensure our safety?”
A low chuckle rumbled inside his chest and she stared, mesmerized by the sound.
“Ja, I’d be happy to do that. I’ll go and hurry right back,” he said. “Come on, Hank.”
He stepped away from the porch, tugging on Hank’s arm to get the boy to follow him.
“But I want to stay here with Tigger.” The boy stuck out his chin, refusing to release his hold on the cat.
“If it would make things easier for you, Hank can wait here with me. He can help me fix breakfast,” Julia offered. Surely Hank wouldn’t get into as much trouble if he remained behind, and Martin would be quicker with his errand, too.
“We have already eaten at home. Our mamm fixed us a big breakfast before we left,” Martin said.
“Then perhaps Hank can help me finish cleaning out the workroom. I’m going to paint the walls today,” she said.
Martin hesitated, a doubtful expression on his face. “You’re certain you don’t mind watching him while I’m gone? He can be a bit of a handful at times.”
She waved Martin on. “Of course. We’ll see you in a while.”
Turning toward Hank, she indicated that the boy should follow her. “Come on, Hank. Let’s go upstairs and see if we can get a bowl of milk for Tigger.”
“Ja, I’m sure he’s hungry,” Hank said.
Smiling happily, the teenager followed her inside, carrying Tigger with him. Julia didn’t look back to see if Martin was still watching her, but she didn’t have to. She could feel his gaze resting on her like a leaden weight. And as she led Hank upstairs, she wasn’t sure why her chest felt all warm and buoyant inside.
Martin was gone a total of twenty minutes. Driving his horse and buggy, he pulled up in front of the supply store and whipped inside to peruse the selection of ladders. After choosing one that was sturdy but not too costly, he asked Byron Stott to put it on Julia’s account, then hurried back to Rose Soapworks.
He didn’t disturb Julia to find out where Hank was. Hoping to get some work done, he set the new ladder against the side of the house and scrambled up to the rooftop with his tool belt strapped around his waist. Bracing himself so he wouldn’t fall, he sat against the chimney and analyzed the problem. Sure enough, there was a hole in the roof. Not too bad. The tar paper and shingles had blown off and the wood beneath was starting to rot away. Martin knew he could fix it with little effort. And while he was up here, he’d replace the missing shingles in other areas before they became a bigger problem, too. When he was through, Julia’s roof would be ready to face winter.
Using the claw of his hammer, he pried up the decayed fragments and tossed them over the side of the house where they fell harmlessly to the ground below. Wouldn’t Julia be surprised when he finished the project by midday? Then he could build the shelves in her workroom.
“Martin?”
He jerked, startled from his task. Julia stood at the top of the ladder, holding on to the edge of the roof. Her eyes were wide and anxious, her face drawn with worry.
Something was wrong.
“You shouldn’t be up here. You might fall,” he said, wondering why he cared so much.
She blinked. “I… I need to speak with you on an urgent matter. It’s about Hank. Could you come down, please?”
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