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with a watchful look. Well, no wonder about that. They hadn’t exactly parted on the best of terms.
    “I came to say how happy we are to have Sarah with us,” Bishop Mose said, gesturing with his coffee cup. “And I stayed to enjoy some of Emma’s wonderful-gut cinnamon buns.”
    Emma was already headed for the coffeepot. “Aaron, you’ll have something, won’t you?”
    “Not now, denke, Emma. I wanted to have a look at the addition while it’s still light.”
    “Aaron is going to finish the birthing rooms for us.” Emma beamed as she sat down opposite the bishop. “We are so fortunate to have such a fine carpenter.”
    “Plenty of fine carpenters around,” Aaron said quickly. It was no part of his plan to be committed to this project in front of the bishop.
    “People have choices, then,” Bishop Mose said placidly. “In carpenters, and in how they have their babies.”
    Before Aaron could decide how to take Bishop Mose’s words, Sarah was opening the door that led to the addition.
    “This way,” she said.
    He followed her out into the addition, closing the door so that the heat wouldn’t escape the house. He glanced around the raw, unfinished space.
    “You have a start on the project, at least.”
    She nodded. “Aunt Emma says we can trust you to tell us whether it’s been done right and what it will take to finish it.”
    He could already see that some shortcuts had been taken in the job. Little though he’d want to criticize a brother, he couldn’t in all honesty say that it was the best of work.
    “Well, we all work a little different. If it was me, I would use four-by-fours instead of the two-by-fours here. And you’ll need thick insulation in these walls, I’d say.”
    “Ja.” She smiled, as if she saw something other than the roughed-out exterior. “We want our mothers to be comfortable when they come to us for births.”
    “You won’t be doing home births, then?” He paced the measurements of the space, pulling out his notebook to jot down figures, interested in the project in spite of himself. He couldn’t see a bit of building done carelessly without wanting to fix it. A man should do his work, whatever it was, as if it were done for God. That was what the Bible taught and what he believed.
    “Oh, ja, home births for those who want it. But some women would rather go to a birthing center, and it is gut for us to work in a place where everything is ready to hand. It also helps if two mothers decide to give birth at the same time.”
    “Is that what you did in Ohio?”
    It seemed the polite thing to ask, even though he had little interest in talking about the subject. Still, he did like the way Sarah’s face came to life. Her enthusiasm made her look more like the girl he remembered from that long-ago summer.
    “Ja, I worked with two other midwives there. Aunt Emma and I won’t need as much space here, maybe, but we want two rooms, each with windows, and two bathrooms between them. Then we’ll want cabinets built in to hold our equipment and supplies.”
    It was time to stop watching the way Sarah’s face lit up at the prospect and start working his way out of this situation.
    “It’s a bigger job than I thought,” he said, staring at his notes to avoid looking at her. “With only Nathan and me working, it will take a while to do. And as for the cost—well, I’ll have to figure that out, but it’s going to be substantial.”
    He was trying not to look at her, but he couldn’t miss the flicker of dismay on her face.
    “If you think Emma isn’t prepared to take on the expense—”
    “It’s not my aunt who’s paying for it,” she said, her voice firm. “I am doing that. It is my investment in the practice.”
    “I see. I didn’t realize . . .”
    “My husband’s share of the farm out in Ohio provides me with enough to cover the project, if you’re concerned about being paid.”
    He’d offended her now, and that wasn’t his intent. He just didn’t want to