A Widow's Hope. Vannetta Chapman

chance with any of the single girls in their district. Even the widows could do better than him. He might have grown comfortable with his disfigurement, but he wouldn’t ask that of a woman.

      But he wasn’t thinking about courting. He was thinking about a business arrangement, which was crazy. He’d seen the look of relief pass over her features when he’d promised her he would be done this week. She was already looking forward to having him out of their lives. Why would he offer her a job?

      On top of which, she’d had enough tragedy in her life. He wouldn’t be adding to that burden with his own problems. No, she’d be better off working in town, working for an Englisch shop owner. He’d do best to keep his distance. As for the audit, perhaps he could scrape up enough money for the accounting firm. He’d need to do something and do it quick, because the clock was ticking down to his deadline. Not that he remembered it exactly, but it was within the next month. That much he knew for certain.

      Four weeks, maybe a little less.

      By then, he needed to have found a solution.

       Chapter Four

      Hannah had scoured the paper on both Wednesday and Thursday looking for a job. What she found was discouraging. The Amish restaurant in town wanted her to work the four-to-nine shift. She wouldn’t be home to share the evening meal or put Matthew to bed. The thought caused her stomach to twist into a knot.

      Amish Acres in Nappanee needed someone in the gift shop, and they understood that Amish employees didn’t work on Sundays. They even provided a bus that picked up workers in downtown Goshen for the twenty-minute ride. But she would be required to work on Saturday. In an Amish household, Saturday was a day spent preparing for Sunday—cooking meals, cleaning the house, making sure clothes were cleaned and pressed. She wouldn’t be able to do any of that if she worked at Amish Acres.

      And with any of the jobs she considered, the same questions lingered in the back of her mind. Who would take Matthew to his physical therapy appointments during the week? Could she really expect her mother to add one more thing to her already full schedule? Could her mother handle the physical demands of lifting Matthew in and out of the buggy?

      She studied the local paper once more Friday morning, in between helping her mother with the meals and taking care of Matthew. After lunch, she again donned a fresh apron and set off to take Matthew to his appointment. She had an interview for a job late that afternoon, and her father had offered to meet them in town.