A Perfect Amish Match (Indiana Amish Brides Book 3)

by Vannetta Chapman

“Think of me like a horse.”

  “A horse?”

  Noah was warming up to this analogy. His brother had worked around horses all his life. This was something he would be able to relate to and understand.

  “Say you found out a horse was for sale, a buggy horse. Only when you went to see it, the horse had never been hitched to a buggy.”

  “How old is this horse?”

  “I don’t know. Say it’s six years old.”

  “So a third of its life.”

  “More or less.”

  “I get it. You’re nearly thirty, which is probably a third of your life.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And you’ve never been hitched to a buggy before.”

  “Now you understand.”

  “Is that it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Is that all you’ve got?”

  “I’m just saying there’s a reason Olivia Mae hasn’t called. There’s a reason this whole stupid plan isn’t going to work. Old bachelors like myself... Well, young girls aren’t interested in us. And everyone else is married.”

  “What about widows?”

  “What about them?”

  “Well, every community has a few.”

  “So you want me to have an instant family?”

  “Nothing wrong with it. And the woman would be older, like you and that hypothetical horse.”

  “Widows are old.”

  “Not always.”

  “Even a young widow doesn’t want a thirty-year-old who’s never—”

  “Been hitched to a buggy?”

  They’d reached the auction house, and Noah wasn’t sure he’d made one bit of progress. His mood plummeted as he realized the uselessness of trying to explain his way of life to his brother. Justin, however, looked thoroughly entertained.

  “That was a good story.”

  “It wasn’t a story so much as it was a comparison.”

  “Ya. I get it. I’m just not buying it.”

  “Meaning...”

  “Meaning I know you, and you’re hoping that Olivia Mae won’t find anyone, but you’re also afraid that she will.”

  With a slap on his back, Justin turned and walked off to where he’d parked his buggy. As Noah headed back into the auction barn, he slowed down to look at the advertisements.

  Midwest’s Largest Flea Market!

  Shipshewana * Trading Place * est. 1922

  We love Shipshewana, Indiana, USA

  The Heart of Amish Country

  He loved everything about the auction house. It, too, was full of Amish and Englisch. He knew the serious bidders by name, even after less than three weeks. From the group of Englischers he was able to distinguish between those there to bid and the ones who were stopping to watch.

  Checking in at the office, he made sure of where he was supposed to be. They had him scheduled for half a dozen auctions that afternoon—proof that the boss was pleased with his work. They’d scheduled him in the livestock barn, which normally he would have enjoyed. Instead, with every group of animals, he kept thinking of Olivia Mae’s pitiful herd of sheep.

  Should he buy her the smaller Dorper sheep? Their black faces and white wool would make her smile. Did she even want more sheep? Was she getting into or out of the business? Why was he even thinking about her?

  The next auction was goats, followed by donkeys. Hadn’t she said she’d lost two sheep to predators? A donkey could help protect her herd, keep it from dwindling more. Somehow he continued calling out the bids, joking with the crowd, moving the animals through the pen, but his thoughts weren’t focused completely on his work. Instead they pinged around like popcorn in a hot skillet.

  Twice he closed a bid while people still had their hands raised. He needed to pay attention, but that wasn’t so easy because his mind kept straying back to the woman who was searching for the love of his life. Why had he agreed to his mother’s ridiculous deal? Why put himself through the humiliation?

  Why hadn’t Olivia Mae called?

  Before the afternoon was half-done, he’d made up his mind that he’d stop by the phone shack again on the way home. If she hadn’t called yet, he’d stop thinking about it. If he was fortunate, maybe she would have decided to call the whole thing off. Whatever Olivia Mae’s decision, he was ready to get this over with. Honestly, it was worse than waiting for a dentist appointment.

  * * *

  Olivia Mae waited until Friday to contact Jane, and then she insisted they meet in person. They managed to get together that afternoon. Sitting on the front porch of Jane’s home, or rather her parents’ home, Olivia Mae couldn’t help wondering what eligible man wouldn’t want to be a part of her friend’s life.

  The fields were well tended, the barn in good shape, crops were coming in well and Jane’s parents were genuinely nice people. The only problem was they’d had four other daughters, all of whom had married easily and at a young age. They didn’t understand what was wrong with their Jane.

  That’s what her mother had said to Olivia Mae when she’d arrived at the house. “Are you here to set her up? Because we don’t understand what’s wrong with our Jane.” The woman’s demeanor suggested nothing but parental love. The family didn’t fight, no one had a drug or alcohol problem, and none of the girls had gone through much of a rumspringa. Olivia Mae knew this firsthand because she’d gone to school with all of the older girls. Jane, being six years younger, had been in second grade the year that Olivia Mae had finished eighth.

  She pushed away that uncomfortable thought.

  After assuring Jane’s mother that there was nothing wrong with Jane, she’d waited on the front porch. Best to do this away from curious ears, even if those ears were well-meaning.

  Twenty minutes later, Jane had joined her and listened to her suggestions, but she still wasn’t convinced.

  “I thought he wasn’t interested,” Jane repeated.

  They’d been through this once, but apparently Olivia Mae’s assurances hadn’t calmed her fears.

  “It’s his mamm’s idea for him to allow me to try to make a match, but Noah agreed to it. If he agreed to it, then I think somewhere in his heart he wants it.”

  Jane nodded, but she didn’t answer right away. Jane was a talker, so Olivia Mae wasn’t sure how to interpret her silence. She repeatedly smoothed the apron covering her dress, and finally turned and looked at Olivia Mae directly.

  “Is this it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Is it my last chance?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Because I’m twenty-one.”

  “I’m twenty-seven.” Olivia Mae tried not to take offense. It was true that most in their community considered someone past the age of twenty-five to be a late bloomer. And thirty? Well, by thirty most people simply accepted that the loved one wouldn’t ever marry. Noah was dangerously close to that age, but Olivia Mae wasn’t going to let that stop her.

  “It’s only that my schweschdern, they all married young, and my mamm, she worries. I even heard her talking to my dat the other night, asking how I would run the farm when they’re gone, as if they’re going to stride through the pearly gates any day now. They’re not even sick. They’re only in their fifties, and many people live to be older than that. Widow King turned ninety-one this year, and I think she’s related to us in some convoluted way. Once my mamm told me...”

  This was the Jane that Olivia Mae knew—a chatterbox with a propensity to worry. It was something they were working on. Olivia Mae sat forward and claimed Jane’s hands in her own.

  “Take a deep breath.”

  “Okay.” She inhaled.

  “Blow it out.”

  She rolled her eyes, but did as requested and exhaled.

  “Relax your shoulders.”

  As she did,
she sat up straighter and set the rocker slowly in motion.

  “Feel better?”

  “Ya.”

  “Jane, I know what it is like to be Amish. I am Amish. I understand the pressure you feel, but I want you to understand your worth as a person—as a single woman. Gotte has a plan and a purpose for your life, whether it includes a husband and children or not.”

  “I know.” Her voice was small, tentative. She bowed her head and pulled in a deep breath, and then sat up even straighter. “I know that. I believe that, it’s only...it’s only that I want a husband and I want children.”

  “Wunderbaar. If that is the desire of your heart, then I believe that Gotte will provide a way.” As an afterthought, she added, “But let’s not spring all of that on Noah at once.”

  Jane nodded, and then she began to laugh, and then Olivia Mae started laughing. It took five minutes to pull the conversation back on course.

  “I’ll call Noah day after tomorrow.”

  “Sunday?”

  “Ya.”

  “Not tonight?”

  “Nein. I think it would be better if we wait. I’d rather your first date not be on a Friday or Saturday.”

  “Okay.” Jane didn’t ask why.

  Olivia Mae understood that in matters of the when and where and how of dating, the girls she worked with trusted her to make good decisions.

  “I think Tuesday would be good.”

  “Next Tuesday?”

  “Less than a week away.”

  “That’s true. What should I wear?”

  “Your favorite thing, the thing that makes you smile when you pull it off the hanger.”

  “I only have four dresses and five aprons, but I do have that sweater you knitted me...”

  “From the variegated blue yarn. It’s lightweight and it matches your eyes nicely.”

  “I hardly ever wear it. I don’t want people to think I’m putting on airs, but if we go out Tuesday night, well, there is a chill in the air on May evenings.”

  “Indeed there is.”

  Olivia Mae stood and started down the steps. When she looked back at Jane, she realized suddenly how much she liked her, how in some ways Jane and all the women she helped seemed like the younger sisters she’d never had. So instead of leaving, she walked back up the steps and squatted in front of Jane.

  “We don’t know—we can’t know—if Noah is the man that Gotte intends for you.”

  Surprisingly Jane didn’t interrupt.

  “But we do know He has a plan, and we can trust Him. So Tuesday night, remember this isn’t on you. It’s not about what you do right or wrong. It’s about finding out if Noah Graber is the man that Gotte intends for you to marry, and maybe you won’t even know that right away. But I want you to just enjoy yourself, okay?”

  For her answer, Jane leaned forward and enfolded Olivia Mae in a hug, reminding her again of the sister she’d never had.

  Chapter Five

  Olivia Mae loved that they only had church every other Sunday. On the off Sundays, she missed the hymns and the prayers and even the singing. But she loved the extra time that they had to rest and simply be with one another. Plus the gatherings on their off Sundays were usually small.

  She didn’t have to call Noah to tell him about his upcoming date because they ended up at the same family gathering on Sunday—this time at Bishop Lucas’s house. Since Mammi and Daddi had no other relatives in the area, they often spent the Sundays when they didn’t have church at the bishop’s. It had started with Atlee and continued with Lucas. Olivia Mae was a tad surprised to see Noah and his family there, but she shouldn’t have been. It was just that he had such a large family, so she figured they’d always meet at his parents’ house.

  “My bruders are spread out,” he explained. “Samuel, Justin and George live here, but it was their week to visit their in-laws. My other two bruders live in Middlebury—close enough to visit a few times a month, but not usually on a Sunday.”

  “Which means your parents were home alone.”

  “Not completely. I was there.” He grinned at her sheepishly. “But I’m not the best company.”

  “And why is that?”

  “I don’t want to hear the stories they’ve told a hundred times. I’d rather be up and moving about than sitting in a rocker. Every conversation seems to lead to a lecture. Take your pick of reasons.”

  They were walking through the bishop’s back pasture. Olivia Mae was picking a bouquet of wildflowers—tiny clumps of blue-eyed Mary, the occasional pasture rose with its yellow center and something her mother had called bird’s-foot violet. The memory made her smile. How she missed her parents, but it seemed that reminders of them were everywhere.

  She gathered the flowers for Mammi, who claimed to enjoy the sight and smell of them. The small bouquets certainly brightened up the house considerably, and they cost nothing. Their house could use some brightening. Three new holes in the roof had shown up with the last rainstorm. Olivia Mae needed to think of a way to fix that, or she could hope they wouldn’t have any more pouring rains. The lighter showers didn’t seem to work their way through the roof.

  “Where did you go?” Noah asked.

  “Go?”

  “I lost you there for a minute. I was complaining about my parents in a very entertaining way and you just...” He interlocked his thumbs and mimed a bird flying away.

  Instead of boring him with details of how her grandparents’ home was falling apart, she opted to change the subject.

  “I was trying to think how best to tell you that I have a date for you.”

  He stopped in the middle of the field and crossed his arms. She thought that would make a pretty picture, if she had a camera or could even sketch. Most Amish didn’t own a camera, though of course some on their rumspringa did. Sketching was allowed, but any artists among them usually stuck to landscapes. Still, Olivia Mae couldn’t help thinking that Noah Graber looked like something in a picture, in his Sunday best, crossing his arms—a scowl on his face and wildflowers at his feet.

  “We’ve been talking for a while. You could have led with that.”

  “Her name is Jane. She is a friend of mine.”

  “One of the girls you were sitting with?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tall or chubby?”

  She fisted her hands on her hips and scowled at him. “If that’s your attitude...”

  “I’m kidding. Relax. You take this thing very seriously, you know.”

  He walked over to a bunch of buttercups, pulled three out of the ground and handed them to her. “Peace offering?”

  “I’m serious, Noah.” She accepted the flowers, but kept her gaze on him. “These women are freinden of mine, and they deserve your respect.”

  “Why are women so sensitive?” The expression on his face told her that it was a serious question. “If we were looking at horses, it would be okay for me to ask about the tall one or the chubby one.”

  “Women are not horses.”

  “When I’m auctioning items, it’s okay for me to describe things in details. It’s what I’m supposed to do.”

  “But you would say antique, not old. You would say lovingly worn, not falling apart. You would speak kindly.”

  He grunted in reply.

  They crossed the pasture and stopped at the fence line, where more flowers grew in abundance. It was a fine May day, and Olivia Mae should feel happy and excited that she’d found a possible match for Noah, and for Jane. Instead she felt worried.

  “Jane is tall, yes.”

  “Do you know how many times I’ve been set up with the tall schweschder?”

  “I wasn’t aware you’d ever been set up before.”

  “When I was younger. Everyone seemed to think that tall people wanted to be around other tall people—like we were a tribe or s
omething.”

  Olivia Mae craned her head back to get a good look at his face. “Do you dislike being tall?”

  “Of course not. What good would it do? A giraffe doesn’t dislike having a long neck.”

  “A giraffe?” She shook her head at the absurdity of their conversations. “Let’s refocus. Jane is self-conscious about her height.”

  “She didn’t look that tall.”

  “And yet beside other women, she’s always the tallest, and some men—I won’t mention names—have said disparaging things, perhaps because they were short and felt uncomfortable beside her.”

  “I won’t call her Big Bird.”

  “Did you watch a lot of Englisch television as a child?”

  “Nein. But I helped to build an addition on to a day-care center once, and just before nap time they’d play shows for the kids. Kind of gets stuck in your head.”

  “Another gut reason not to have a television.”

  “We can agree on that.”

  “Jane is available to go out with you on Tuesday.”

  “I thought you’d say Friday. Don’t most dates take place on Friday?”

  “Tuesday works better.” She didn’t explain her reasoning. “I suggest you take her to dinner in town.”

  “I’m not made of money, you know.”

  “You’re living with your parents, and you’re earning money at the auction house.”

  “True enough, but I’m saving up for my own place. It seems a waste of good money to go out to dinner when I could...”

  “What? Let Jane cook for you?”

  “I didn’t—”

  “Or maybe you’d planned on rustling up a meal on your own.”

  “That would be a terrible idea. I’ve been known to burn toast.”

  “Did you want to take her home to your parents and let your mamm cook for her?”

  “Nein. Mamm’s a gut cook, but she’d be asking her about grandkinner before we made it to dessert.” Noah scrubbed a hand across his face. “This is the problem with dating. There are too many details.”

  He looked truly frustrated—almost miserable if she wasn’t mistaken, and that was not the way she wanted this date to begin. So she reached out and touched his arm. He stared down at her hand, then into her eyes.