Free On Her Own by Wanda E. Brunstetter Page B

and I made a big batch earlier this afternoon.”
    Mary and Hannah both nodded enthusiastically. “That’d be real nice,” Mary said, licking her lips.
    A short time later, John and his girls were headed back up Highway C toward home.
    “Say, Papa, I’ve been wondering about something,” Hannah said as they neared their farm.
    “What’s that, daughter?”
    “How come you didn’t invite Margaret to go on a picnic with us the way you did Barbara?”
    “Well, I—”
    “Margaret seems lonely. Maybe she would’ve enjoyed a day at the pond.”
    John’s face heated up. “I. . .uh. . .as you know, Barbara has kinner, so I figured you girls would enjoy playing with her boys.”
    “Except for Aaron, Barbara’s boys are a lot younger than us,” Hannah reminded him.
    “Right,” he said with a nod. “And for that reason, I figure they’d be fun for you to play little mudder with.”
    Mary opened her mouth as if to reply, but he held up his hand and said, “Just eat your peanut brittle.”

    Paul hated to bother Barbara, but he needed several
orders to be sent, and she’d made it clear when she hired him
that she wouldplace all the orders. He’d
thought about asking Barbara’s dad to take the paperwork up to
the house, but Samuel had left for another doctor’s
appointment. Since there were no customers at the moment, Paul
decided to take the information up to Barbara. He put the C LOSED sign in the shop window with a note saying they would open again after lunch and headed out the door.
    Paul stepped onto the back porch of Barbara’s house, and as he lifted his hand to the door, he heard a child say, “Whatcha doin’?”
    Paul whirled around. Barbara’s six-year-old son, Joseph, stood beside a bush near the porch, holding a metal bubble wand in his hand.
    “I. . .uh. . .need to see your mamm about something,” Paul stammered. He didn’t know why he always felt so tongue-tied around children.
    “She’s in the house.”
    Paul nodded. “I figured she might be.”
    “You come over for lunch?” Joseph asked, his blue eyes looking ever so serious.
    “No. I’m here on business.”
    Joseph stepped onto the porch. “Mama’s harness business?”
    “Jah.”
    The boy turned the doorknob and called through the open doorway, “Mama, the harness man’s here to see you!”
    Paul felt as though he would be intruding to step into the house without an invitation, so he waited on the porch until Barbara showed up. “Is there a problem at the shop?” she asked.
    “No problem. I just wanted to give you these.” Paul handed her the folder full of supply orders.
    “Danki. I’ll get everything sent out right away.”
    Joseph tossed the bubble wand onto a small table on the porch and yanked on the hem of his mother’s apron. “Can the harness man stay for lunch? We’ve got plenty, right?”
    Barbara’s face flamed. “His name is Paul, and I’m sure he’s busy.”
    Joseph shook his head. “No, he ain’t. There’s no cars or buggies parked in front of the shop.”
    A trickle of sweat rolled down Paul’s forehead, and he wiped it away.
    “If you haven’t already eaten, you’re welcome to join us,” Barbara said, much to Paul’s surprise.
    Whatever she was cooking in the kitchen smelled mighty good. His stomach rumbled. “Well, I—”
    “Mama’s fixin’ chicken noodle soup,” Joseph said, smacking his lips. “It tastes awful good, and it smells wunderbaar .”
    Paul smiled at the boy’s enthusiasm. “I’d be happy to join you for lunch if you’re sure it’s no trouble,” he said to Barbara. “Maybe we could talk about business while we eat.”
    Barbara nodded. “Sounds fine to me.”
    Paul stepped inside. “Was that Bishop Frey I saw here earlier?” Paul asked as he followed her into the kitchen.
    Barbara nodded. “He came by with two of his daughters to see how I was doing.”
    “Guess that’s part of the man’s duties.”
    “Jah.” Barbara motioned to the table. “Why