A Husband For Mari. Emma Miller

Mari said as she slid into an empty chair between Ellie and Zachary. “Nice to meet you.”

      Peter’s mouth opened, then closed; then his lips moved, but no words came out. Sweat beaded on his acne-scarred forehead as he nodded in her direction. His pale brown eyes were wide and stunned in appearance, like a frightened deer caught in the headlights of a car. His lips parted again, and something like a croak emerged. Mari expected the poor man to leap up from the table and flee the kitchen at any second.

      James came to his rescue, sliding into a chair. “Good to have you with us,” he said to Peter. “Everyone. Shall we?” He closed his eyes and slightly inclined his head, a signal for silent grace.

      Mari reached for her son’s hand under the table. He gripped her fingers, his small hand warm, clinging to hers. She smiled at him reassuringly, and he nodded before closing his eyes and lowering his head in imitation of the men and women around him. Mari did the same.

      * * *

      Mari’s head was still bowed when James opened his eyes. She looked so relaxed in prayer. A brave woman and a good mother, he thought. He didn’t care what she’d said; life couldn’t have been easy for her in the English world. It never was for those born into a different one. Not that the Amish lifestyle was a perfect one. Nothing on earth was, he supposed. But it was obvious to him that Mari’s struggles must have been more difficult than his own, and he admired her for her pluck and fortitude.

      Sara’s cheerful urging for someone to pass the ham jolted James from his musing. He caught Peter’s gaze and offered him a friendly smile. Poor Peter. No wonder he needed Sara’s help to find a wife. The man was obviously terrified of women. Hands trembling, Peter almost dropped the plate of meat into Hiram’s lap. Hiram caught it in time, moving faster than James had thought him capable. Peter went white and his ears reddened. He was so flabbergasted by his near mishap that he hadn’t even taken a slice of ham for himself. Hiram, who never missed an opportunity to fill his stomach, helped himself to two pieces.

      “Ach, I forgot the butter,” Ellie said. She started to rise, but Mari was quicker.

      “I’ll get it.” Mari moved gracefully to the refrigerator and came back with the butter, offering it to James.

      James glanced at Peter and then back at Mari and wondered if Sara had any notion of matching the two of them. He doubted it. Sara was good at reading people; Mari’s personality was too strong. Peter needed a gentle woman, maybe someone a little older than he was, someone who could overlook his social deficiencies. And Mari had made a point of saying she wasn’t here to find a husband. James knew Sara well enough, though, to suspect that didn’t mean anything to her if she set her mind to it. Sara could be a determined woman, especially when it came to the idea of there being someone for everyone. Of course Mari would have to join the church to marry an Amish man, but that wasn’t a far-fetched idea, especially since she had grown up Amish.