A Man For Honor - Emma Miller The Amish Matchmaker

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arm.

      “What do you think you’re doing?”

      Luke turned toward the back porch. A young woman appeared, a crying baby in her arms, wet hair hanging loose around her shoulders. “Let go of my son this minute!”

      For a moment Luke stood there, stunned, the boy still flailing against his arm. Luke had been expecting to see a changed Honor, one weighed down by the grief of widowhood and aged by the birth of four children in six years, but he hadn’t been prepared for this bold beauty. He opened his mouth to answer, but as he did, a handful of mud struck him in the cheek.

      “Put Justice down!” the biggest boy shouted as he scooped up a handful of mud and threw it at Luke. “You let my brother go!”

      The little one did the same.

      Luke spit mud and tried to wipe the muck out of his eyes, only succeeding in making it worse.

      Sara, now out of the buggy, clapped her hands. “Kinner! Stop this at once! Inside with you. You’ll catch your deaths of ague.” She reached out for Justice, and Luke gladly handed him, still kicking and screaming, over to her.

      Honor came down the steps, carefully stepping over a hole where a board was missing. “Sara? I didn’t realize—” She broke off. “You?” she said to Luke, raising her voice. “You dare to come here?”

      He sucked in a deep breath. “Goot mariye, Honor. I know you weren’t expecting me, but—”

      “But nothing,” Honor flung back. Red-haired Elijah’s cry became a shriek, and a dog ran out of the house and began to bark. Honor raised her voice further to be heard over the noise. “What are doing here, Luke?”

      “Calm down,” he soothed, raising both hands, palms up, in an attempt to dampen the fire of her temper. “Hear me out, before—”

      “There will be no hearing you out,” she said, interrupting him again. “You’re not welcome here, Luke Weaver.”

      “Now, Honor—”

      “Why did you bring him here, Sara?” Honor demanded.

      To add to the confusion, the rainfall suddenly became a downpour. Sara looked up at the dark sky and then at Honor. “If you’ve any charity, I think we’d best get under your roof before we all drown,” she said.

      Honor grimaced and reached out for the child struggling in Sara’s arms. “Could you grab Elijah?” she asked the matchmaker. “Stop that, Justice,” she said, balancing her middle child on one hip and the baby against her shoulder. “Why are you half-dressed? Where’s Greta? And where’s your coat?” She glanced up. “Ya, come in, all of you. Elijah! Tanner!” She rolled her eyes. “You, too, Luke. Although it would serve you right if I did leave you out here to drown.”

       Chapter Two

      Honor set Justice down on the top step and herded him and the other two boys into the narrow passageway that served as a place to hang coats, wash clothing and store buckets, kindling and fifty other items she didn’t want in her kitchen. “Watch your step,” she warned Sara. “The cat had kittens, and they’re constantly underfoot.”

      Her late husband had disliked cats in the house. The thought that this was her house and she could do as she pleased now, in spite of what he thought, gave her a small gratification in the midst of the constant turmoil. “Tanner? Where’s Greta?” She glanced back at Sara who was setting Elijah on his feet. “Greta’s Silas’s niece. She helps me with the children and the housework.” She raised her free hand in a hopeless gesture. “She was supposed to be checking on the sheep. She must have taken the little ones outside with her.”

      Kittens, sheep, Greta and the condition of her kitchen were easier for Honor to think about than Luke Weaver. She couldn’t focus on him right now. Barely could imagine him back in Kent County, let alone in her house. What had possessed Sara to bring him here?

      Queasiness coiled in the pit of Honor’s stomach and made her throat tighten. It had taken her years to put Luke in her past...to try to forget him. And how many hours had she prayed to forgive him? That was still a work in progress. But she wouldn’t let him upset her life. Not now. Not ever again. And yet, here he was in her home. God, give me the strength, she pleaded silently.

      Confusion reigned in the damp laundry room where the ceiling sagged and the single window was cracked and leaked air around the rotting frame. Her baby daughter, Anke, began to wail again, and Justice was whining.

      “Inside,” Honor ordered, pointing. “You’ll have to forgive the state of the house,” she said over her shoulder to Sara. She chose to ignore Luke as she led the way into the kitchen. “The roof has a leak. Leaks.” Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. Water dripped from the ceiling into an assortment of buckets and containers. Not that she had to tell Sara that the roof leaked. She could see it for herself. She could hear the cascade of falling drops.

      Honor gazed around the kitchen, seeing it as her visitors must, a high-ceilinged room with exposed beams overhead, a bricked-up fireplace and cupboards with sagging doors. She’d painted the room a pale lemon yellow, polished the windowpanes until they shone and done her best with the patchy, cracked linoleum floor, but it was plain that soap and elbow grease did little against forty years of neglect. What must Sara think of her? As for Luke, she told herself that she didn’t care what he thought.

      But she did.

      “Tanner,” Honor said brusquely. “Take your brothers to the bathroom. Greta will give you all a bath and clean clothes. As soon as I find her,” she added. “But you’ve not heard the end of this,” she warned, shaking a finger. It was an empty threat. She knew it and the children did, too, but it seemed like something a mother should say. She put the baby into her play yard and looked around. Where was that girl? Greta, sixteen, was not nearly as much help as Honor had hoped she would be when she’d agreed to have the girl come live with her. Sometimes, Honor felt as if Greta was just another child to tend to. “Tanner, where is Greta?”

      Tanner flushed and suddenly took a great interest in a tear in the linoleum between his feet.

      Justice piped up. “Feed room.”

      Tanner lifted his head to glare at his brother.

      “What did you say?” Honor asked.

      “Feed room.” Justice clapped his hands over his mouth and giggled.

      “What’s she doing in the feed room?” Honor frowned, fearing the answer as she spoke.

      Justice shrugged. “Can’t get out.” He cast a knowing look at his older brother, Tanner, whose face was growing redder by the second.

      Honor brought the heel of her hand to her forehead. “Did you lock her in again?”

      Tanner’s blue eyes widened as he pointed at Elijah. “Not me. He did it.”

      “And you let him? Shame on you. You’re the big boy. You’re supposed to—”

      “Wait, someone’s locked in the feed room?” Luke interrupted, using his handkerchief to wipe the splatters of mud off his face.

      “Tanner, you go this minute and let Greta out,” Honor ordered, still ignoring the fact that Luke, her Luke, was standing in her kitchen. “And the three of you are in big trouble. There will be no apple pie for any of you tonight.”

      “I’ll go,” Luke offered, shoving his handkerchief into the pants he’d borrowed from Sara’s hired hand. “Where’s the feed room?”

      “Barn,” Tanner supplied.

      “The’th in the barn,” Elijah lisped.

      Luke turned back toward the outer door.

      Honor watched him go. The way it was pouring rain, he’d get soaked. She didn’t care. She turned

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