A Hope Springs Christmas. Patricia DavidsЧитать онлайн книгу.
want to send these men back to his competition. He couldn’t cut ten percent off his price or he’d be making the buggies for free. He cleared his throat again and felt heat rising in his face. Why was it always this way? Other people didn’t have trouble talking.
Behind the men, a woman’s voice said, “If Abe Yoder says he can cut ten percent off he’s overcharging to begin with.”
The men turned around as Sarah Wyse approached the stove. She was looked straight at him. “Isn’t that right, Levi?”
He nodded and followed her lead. “Ja.”
She waited, as if expecting he would say more, but when he didn’t she gave her attention to the men. “Come up to the counter, neighbors, and let us talk about what you think your sons will like and what they can live without. Once we have an idea of the amount of work that will be needed, we can give you a fair estimate. You’ll find our prices are as good as Abe Yoder’s and our quality is better.”
Levi blew out a breath of relief. Everyone’s attention was on her and not on him. Now he could think.
She stepped behind the counter and began opening drawers. “If I can just find our order forms.”
“Top left.” Levi supplied the direction she needed.
She opened the correct drawer and said, “Ah, here we are. Changes can be made later, but that may affect the price once we’ve started work. Do you know what color of upholstery they want on the seats? Do they want drum brakes? How about cup holders and storage boxes? I assume these will be open buggies as you said they are for courting.”
She waited, pencil posed, with a friendly smile on her face that could charm anyone. Levi was grateful for her intervention until he remembered that she had sent Grace out of town in the first place.
Once again, Sarah seemed bent on making his life difficult.
Chapter Three
Sarah took down the information the men provided along with their addresses and promised them an estimate would arrive in the mail in a few days. They left, content with that.
When the door closed behind them, Sarah found herself alone. Levi was nowhere in sight. Silence surrounded her except for the occasional crackling and pop of the fire in the potbellied stove. She had time to look around. This cavernous building had been Jonas’s favorite place.
There was nothing fancy about the shop. The bare rafters were visible overhead. Thick and sturdy, the wooden trusses were old and stained with age and smoke. A few missing shingles let in the light and a dusting of snow that had melted into small puddles here and there.
Buggy frames in all stages of completion were lined up along one side. Wagon wheels were everywhere, leaning against the walls and hanging from hooks. Some were new and some were waiting to be repaired. Wheel repair made up the bulk of their business. A good buggy wheel could last five years or more, but eventually they all needed to be fixed or replaced.
Down the center of the shop were two rows of various machines. Although their Amish religion forbade the use of electricity, in their church district it was possible to use propane-powered engines to operate machinery. While some of the equipment was new, much of it was older than the hills.
Sarah walked to the ancient metal bender and grasped the handle. The bender used heavy-duty iron gears and wheels to press bands of steel into symmetrical rings. The steel ring was then welded together to form the outside rim of a wagon wheel.
How many rims had she cranked out when she worked beside Jonas and Levi? Two hundred? Three hundred? She could still do it, but it would take a while to build up her muscles. Carrying bolts of fabric wasn’t nearly as physical.
Turning around, she noticed the back of the shop held various pieces of wood waiting to be assembled into buggy tops and doors. In the far corner of the building, an area had been partitioned off and enclosed to make a room for cutting and sewing upholstery. The old sewing machine was operated with a foot pedal. She knew it well.
Although almost all the buggies they made were black, as required by their church, a person could order anything from red velvet to black leather for the buggy’s interior and seats. Jonas’s courting buggy had dark blue velvet upholstery. When he sold it two years after their wedding she cried like a baby.
She smiled at the memory, but she wasn’t here to relive the past. She went looking for Levi. Would he have something to say about her usurping his authority in dealing with customers? She found him working on the undercarriage of a buggy at the very back of the building. Or rather, she found his feet.
The sole of his left shoe was worn through. He had used a piece of cardboard inside to keep his socks dry. Did his socks have holes in them, too? She imagined they did for the hems of his pant legs were worn and frayed. Grace was wrong. Levi didn’t need a wife. He desperately needed a wife.
Someone with housewifely skills to mend and darn for him and to make sure he was properly clothed. Someone to insist he get new shoes for the winter instead of making do with cardboard insoles. She’d paid no attention to the business books after Jonas died, preferring to leave all that in Levi’s hands. Was the business doing poorly? Or was Levi frugal to the extreme?
Clearly, it was time she got her head back into the business. “Levi, may I speak with you?”
A grunt was her answer. Was it a yes grunt or a no grunt? Only his feet moved as he struggled with some hidden problem. She decided to be optimistic. “I’d like to take a look at the ledgers.”
His feet stilled. “Why?”
She crouched down trying to see his face. “I realize that I’ve left the running of the business to you alone for far too long. We are partners in this, are we not?”
He wiggled backward out from under the carriage and sat up to glare at her. “I don’t cheat you.”
She pressed a hand to her chest. “Goodness, I never thought you did. I simply want to begin doing my share again. Jonas and I used to do the books together. I know what I’m looking at.”
“Jonas is gone. I do the books now.” He lay down and started to inch back under the buggy.
Sarah was sorely tempted to kick the sole of his miserable excuse for a shoe, but she didn’t. More flies were caught with honey than with vinegar. “I don’t mean to step on your toes, Levi, but I am the owner of this shop, and I have a right to see the books. I’m sure you understand my position.”
“Help yourself,” came his muffled reply.
“Fine.” She left him to his work and headed for the small enclosed place that was used as an office. A wooden stool sat in front of a cluttered desk. Off to one side, a stack of ledgers and catalogs were piled together. She started by searching through them, but soon realized they weren’t what she needed.
She went back to his feet. “Where are the current ledgers, Levi?”
“Ask Grace.”
She blew out a huff of frustration. “I can’t very well ask Grace. She’s on her way to Pennsylvania.”
He came out from under the frame and rose to his feet. “Ja, she is. I wonder why my sister chose to go running off during our busiest season with inventory to do and four carriages to finish. No, wait. I know why she left. You told her to go.”
It was the longest speech he’d ever spoken to her. Sarah curbed her ire at his tone. “Grace didn’t tell you why she went to visit her grandmother?”
“All she said was that it was your idea.”
“Oh.” No wonder he seemed upset. Where should she start?
He folded his arms and stared at his shoes. “Is Grace in...trouble?” he asked, his voice low and worried.
“Trouble? You mean... Oh! No, no, it’s nothing like that. I hope she would confide in me if that were the case. No,