Hank ignored his brother, focusing on Julia. “I went higher than ever before. I could even see the top of your roof. You have a big hole up there where the shingles have blown away.”
Julia blinked, then glanced at Martin. “Oh, dear. A hole in the roof? And winter is coming on.”
“Don’t worry. As soon as I’ve completed the porch, I’ll take a look at it,” Martin said.
“But there are so many other chores needing to be done. I didn’t even think about the roof.” A feeling of helpless dread almost overwhelmed her.
“Never fear. The Lord will bless us and it’ll all get done.”
Martin sounded so confident. So sure of himself. So filled with conviction. She couldn’t help envying his faith. His words of reassurance brought her a bit of comfort, but what if he was wrong? What if they didn’t get the workroom set up in time?
She had been making single batches of soap up in the tiny kitchen of their apartment almost every evening but that would only satisfy the grand opening of their store on December 1. It would take her four weeks of making super batches of soap to satisfy her wholesale contract, and the soap required four to five weeks to cure after it was made. She must ship her orders by the end of January in order to meet her next contract deadline the first of February. So much was riding on her being able to make soap by the end of November. By the end of December, she had to have most of the soap made.
As she went inside, Julia hoped Martin was right.
The pressure was on. Martin knew Julia was worried. He could see it in her eyes. He’d heard the urgency in her voice and could feel the apprehension emanating from her like a living thing. If Hank was right and there was a big hole in the roof, it would need to be repaired before the autumn rains began, which was any day now. Depending on what needed to be done, it could suck up precious time he needed to build the shelves and countertops for her workroom.
It was Martin’s job to get it all done in time for her to open her shop. He felt the seriousness of the situation as though his own livelihood depended on it. His reputation was on the line. He’d been doing a lot of carpentry work for people in the community and wanted to increase his business as a side job for more income to build his barn and, one day, his new house. He also wanted to make Julia happy and ease her load in any way possible.
Working as fast as he could, he built the framework of the awning first. Standing on the rickety ladder, he affixed the lag bolts. Satisfied with his labors, he looked down at Hank, who had wandered over to peer through the store windows. No doubt he was looking for Julia.
“Hank!”
The boy jerked, looking guilty. Martin resisted the urge to smile.
“Hand me up those two-by-six boards,” he called.
Hank lifted a four-by-six board instead.
“Ne, that’s the wrong one. I need the two-by-six.” Martin forced himself to speak gently, although he felt impatient for his brother’s mistake. It was costing him precious time.
Hank laid a hand on the smaller boards and looked up at him with a questioning gaze.
“Ja, those are the right ones. That’s gut. Hand them up.”
Martin reached out a hand as Hank lifted the boards one by one so he could nail them into place. By the time he’d laid the furring strips over top of the frame, it was almost dinnertime. He’d accomplished a lot today but should soon start for home. Mamm would be expecting them. He would finish up tomorrow. The weather should hold for a couple more days so he could repair the roof. For now, it was time to leave.
“You’ve done a fine job today.”
He turned and saw Julia standing off to the side of the porch, looking up at him. Hank immediately raced over to stand beside her, gazing at her with adulation.
“I helped,” Hank said.
She blessed him with a smile so bright that Martin had to blink. “Of course you did.”
Hank beamed at her. “Do you like to sing?”
Martin stiffened, knowing what his brother was about to ask. “Not now, Hank.”
Hank threw a disgruntled glare at his older brother. “But I want to ask her—”
“It’s not the right time,” Martin said.
Julia hesitated, looking back and forth between the two. In a bit of confusion, she spoke to Martin as she inspected his work with a critical eye. “I didn’t expect you to get the porch finished today, but it looks almost complete.”
“Ja, it has come together well. I’ll put on the finishing touches and paint it first thing in the morning. I hope it is satisfactory,” he said.
“It’s more than satisfactory. It’s beautiful. If I didn’t know better, I would say it was never damaged. You’ve cleaned up every bit of mess, too. I can’t even tell you worked on it today.”
As her gaze scanned the porch and awning, he could see her searching for any imperfections. He climbed down and set the ladder aside for his use tomorrow.
“My daed taught me to tidy up after work,” he said.
She tilted her head. “Your dat?”
“Ja, my dad.”
“Oh, your father,” she said.
“Ja, my vadder.”
He’d swept up the sawdust and discarded nails and placed them in a large garbage can. Mamm told him that his fastidiousness was bothersome to some of the Amish girls, which was one reason they didn’t want to marry him. But instead of being irritated by his meticulous work, Julia seemed to approve. For some crazy reason, that delighted Martin like nothing else could.
She nodded with satisfaction. “I do like it very much. With a coat of paint, it’ll look perfect.”
While Julia watched, he packed his tools away in the toolbox. When he was finished, he faced her again. “We’d better get going. We’ll see you in the morning.”
“Yes, see you tomorrow.” She waved and turned away, going back inside.
Martin climbed into the buggy with Hank and directed the horse toward the main road. He’d worked hard today, yet he didn’t feel tired. No, not at all. Instead, he felt rejuvenated and eager to do a good job for Julia Rose.
When he pulled into the graveled driveway at home, his father was just coming from the barn, carrying two buckets of frothy white milk. His mother, sisters and other brother had just finished feeding the chickens and pigs.
“Martin! Hank! You’re finally home.” His mother waved, a huge smile on her cheery face.
Emily, Susan and Timmy came running, surrounding him and Hank as they hopped up and down with excitement.
“Did you get the job?” thirteen-year-old Emily asked, her face alight with expectation.
“You must have got the job because you’ve been gone all day,” little eight-year-old Timmy reasoned.
Martin laughed as he swung seven-year-old Susan high into the air. The girl squealed with delight. Their greeting warmed his heart. How he loved them all. He thought about Julia having only her mother to come home to. It must be so lonely for her.
“Supper’s about ready. Komm inside and tell us about your day.” His father stepped up on the porch, his words silencing the children’s incessant questions. At the age of forty-nine, David was the patriarch of the home and still strong and muscular from working long hours of manual labor.
“I’ll