“It is not getting run-down. A little shabby maybe.”
Her mother merely raised one eyebrow.
Emma relented and admitted her mother was right. “Very well, there are some things that need fixing.”
Naomi smiled brightly. “Jah, there are. You don’t have to be the one doing all the work at this inn. You work too hard as it is.”
Emma held her tongue. Her mother didn’t understand that hard work was the only thing that kept the loneliness at bay.
Moving forward, Naomi reached out to straighten Emma’s prayer kapp. “Did you notice what a nice smile the young man has?”
“I noticed he almost knocked down our jam display.” Emma submitted to her mother’s attention although she suspected her kapp was already perfectly straight.
“It wouldn’t hurt you to smile back at a young man once in a while.” Suddenly, Naomi sneezed, then sneezed again.
Emma took two quick steps away. The last thing she wanted was to cause her mother discomfort. What had she been thinking?
Rubbing her nose, Naomi said, “Sorry, I don’t know what started that. You look tired, Emma. Is everything okay?”
She should look tired. She’d been up every two hours through the night for the past two nights. She wasn’t about to explain why. How could she expect her mother to understand when she didn’t know herself why she’d taken on a task doomed to failure? “I’m fine. I must get to work.”
“And Adam Troyer stays, jah?” her mother asked.
Emma wasn’t about to make a promise she might regret. “We shall see.”
Chapter Three
Emma opened her office door and walked out into the lobby. Adam had set his ladder on the floor. Her jams and jellies were no longer in danger.
He stood by the fireplace carefully examining the stonework. He had taken off his hat and coat, giving her a view of his tall, lean frame. His hair, sandy brown and curly, was trimmed in the same bowl cut all Amish men wore. Since he didn’t have a beard she knew he was unmarried.
Why was he still single at his age? He had to be in his late twenties or early thirties.
His plain clothes fit him well. His suspenders drew attention from where his broad shoulders filled out his white shirt down to where his dark trousers accentuated his narrow waist and lean hips.
And what was she doing thinking about such things when she had an inn to run?
Naomi pointed to the top of the fireplace. “Our innkeeper noticed at least two stones loose near the ceiling when he was taking down the last quilt I sold. I’ll show you which ones, but there may be others.”
Emma clasped her hands in front of her. “Exactly how many fireplaces such as this have you repaired, Mr. Troyer?”
Adam looked at her. “Like this one? None.”
She blinked. “None? And you expect me to hire you?”
Adam didn’t appear the least put out by her remark. His eyes twinkled as he said, “This will be the largest fireplace I’ve worked on but the repair principle is the same. I can do the job.”
She would have to trust him. The smoke leaking out around the loose stones had left soot marks on the quilt and ceiling. “It appears you have a job. If your work is satisfactory we will discuss additional projects tomorrow morning.”
Beaming a bright grin at her, he crossed the room and held out his hand. “That’s a deal then, Emma.”
Hesitating only a fraction of the second, she took his hand. “Jah, we have a deal.”
His large fingers engulfed her small ones as he pumped her arm with vigor. The warmth of his touch took her by surprise. The calloused strength of his hand gripping hers did funny things to her insides. Looking up into his smiling face, she was tempted to smile back, but she didn’t. Instead she pulled her hand away and folded her arms tightly across her middle.
He might be a handsome man with his curly hair and bright blue eyes, but that shouldn’t matter. If he did a good job, then she would be pleased.
She didn’t want to admit the warmth of his hand and the friendliness of his smile caused butterflies in the pit of her stomach. She had put such foolishness behind her after the death of her fiancé ten years ago. Her heart lay in pieces in the cold ground with William, her one true love.
The grandfather clock in the corner began to chime the hour. Emma realized with a start that she was late. “Continue with your work, Mr. Troyer. I will be back to check on you.”
She rushed through the kitchen, grabbing her coat from the hook on her way out. Pulling on her coat in the cold air, she prayed she would still find all was well, but she knew not to expect too much.
Chapter Four
Adam was finishing the fireplace when Emma showed up again. He’d found several others stones that needed repair and noticed a half dozen tiles on the large hearth with cracked grout. No one had asked him to repair those, but he couldn’t leave a job half-done. Emma had purchased the mortar. The least he could do was get her money’s worth out of it.
He remained on his knees by the hearth as he waited for her assessment of his work. She stepped up to run her hand along the repaired tiles. It was then he noticed bits of straw clinging to the back of her skirt and her dark socks.
Frowning, she gestured toward the top of the fireplace. “The repairs don’t match the rest.”
“The mortar is still damp. When it dries it will be hard to tell the old from the new. Hand me that rag and I’ll finish evening out these grout lines.”
Picking up a red cloth in a small basin behind her, she held it out. “This one?”
“Jah.” He gestured toward her skirt. “You have some straw stuck on you.”
To his surprise, her cheeks turned bright red. She
