A Perfect Amish Match

by Vannetta Chapman

  Olivia Mae thought her eyes were going to pop out of her head. “Did you really just ask me that?”

  “I did.”

  “A little intrusive.”

  “Meaning you don’t want to answer?”

  “Meaning it’s none of your business.”

  “Fair enough, though it’s like asking a horse salesman why he doesn’t own a horse.”

  Which was so ridiculous that it eased the knot of defensiveness in her stomach. “My family situation is...unique.”

  “You mean with your grandparents?”

  She nodded instead of answering and looked back toward the picnic area. She’d intended to speak to Lucas about Daddi.

  “I’ve got it.” Noah sat up and resettled his hat, looking quite pleased with himself.

  “Got what?”

  “The solution.”

  “To?”

  “My dating disasters.”

  “Oh, that’s gut to hear.”

  He leaned forward, close enough that she could smell the shampoo he’d used that morning. Close enough that she wanted to scoot back to calm her racing heart.

  “You need to teach me.”

  “Pardon me?”

  “You need to give me dating lessons.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You and me. We’ll go on a few dates...say, three. That would be a gut number. You can learn how to do most things if you do it three times.”

  “That’s a ridiculous suggestion.”

  “Why? I learn better from doing.”

  “Do you?”

  “I’ve already learned not to take a girl to a gas station or a picnic, but who knows how many more dating traps are waiting for me to stumble into them.”

  “So this would be...a learning experience.”

  “It’s a perfect solution.” He studied her closely, and then reached forward and tugged on her kapp string, something no one had done to her since she’d been a young teen in school with a crush on a boy.

  “I can tell by the shock on your face and the way you’re twirling that kapp string that I’ve made you uncomfortable. It’s a gut idea, though. We’d keep it businesslike—nothing personal.”

  Olivia Mae had no idea why the thought of sitting through three dates with Noah Graber made her stomach twirl like she’d been on a merry-go-round. Maybe she was catching a stomach bug.

  “Wait a minute. Are you trying to get out of your third date? Because you promised your mamm that you would give this thing three solid attempts.”

  “And I’ll keep my word on that,” Noah assured her. “After you’ve tutored me, you can throw some other poor unsuspecting girl my way.”

  Olivia Mae saw Lucas walking away from the group. He was alone. She’d rather stay here talking to Noah, but now was her chance. She stood, brushed off the back of her dress and pointed a finger at Noah, who still sat in the grass as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

  “All right. I’ll do it, on one condition.”

  Noah rolled his eyes, but motioned for her to continue.

  “You go find Francine and apologize to her.”

  “I would have done that anyway. I’m not an ogre, just a bit clueless.”

  “You said it, not me.”

  Chapter Eight

  Noah was cautiously optimistic when he checked the phone shack on Monday, felt a bit more cynical on Tuesday and grew positively aggravated by Wednesday. He wasn’t asking Olivia Mae to marry him. He was asking for some in-person tutoring. Obviously he’d missed the lesson on how to act like a gentleman—according to Francine, who put it in those exact words. Where did men learn what women expected from them? It certainly hadn’t been taught in his one-room schoolhouse.

  Perhaps Olivia Mae was having second thoughts.

  Why did it even matter to him?

  So what if she had given up on him?

  Maybe she’d found a more important match to make.

  Good riddance. He could get on with his life—finally.

  Or so he told himself as he clomped into the phone shack after work on Wednesday. He usually took the bus into work since Shipshe was eleven miles away—a bit of a long ride in a horse and buggy. At breakfast, his dat had asked him to drive the buggy and pick up a plow part on his way home. The sky was dark and broody, which matched his thoughts perfectly. He’d simply explain to his mother that no one was willing to give him a chance, so she’d understand that he was unmatchable and he’d be able to start looking for a bachelor pad.

  He didn’t want to live with his parents forever, but he wasn’t quite sure what his new place would look like.

  Obviously he needed a place for his horse and buggy. Something with a small sheep pen might be good.

  He didn’t need a sheep pen!

  He didn’t even particularly like sheep.

  Maybe someone had a grossdaddi haus they’d rent to him. Amish might live simply, but they were usually on the lookout for ways to supplement the family income. He was making enough at the auction house that he could afford to pay a modest rent.

  He stepped into the phone shack and saw the light blinking on the answering machine beside the flashing number 1. Probably it was a message for Widow King again. For an elderly woman with a large family spread out in Goshen who probably visited her once a week, she certainly did get a lot of phone messages. He picked up the pen and prepared to take down the name and number.

  Instead he heard Olivia Mae’s voice on the recorder. At the sound of her voice he felt a lightness in his chest as if a heavy burden had been lifted.

  “This message is for Noah Graber. We could have your first lesson on Wednesday at five thirty if that’s agreeable. No need to bring anything.”

  Five thirty? He glanced at his watch and confirmed that he had exactly fifteen minutes to get to Olivia Mae’s. He wouldn’t have time to go home and change. He wouldn’t even have time to warn his mamm that he wouldn’t be home for dinner, but then that tended to happen a couple of times a week and he knew she wouldn’t worry. Sometimes auction work ran late. She’d taken to leaving him a plate in the oven, covered with a pan lid, the temperature turned to low.

  Which left him no good excuse to refuse Olivia Mae.

  Why would he refuse her? This was what he’d asked for.

  But suddenly he wasn’t so sure. His mouth went dry, and he wondered if he’d made his predicament even worse than it had been.

  He stomped back out of the phone shack as the rain began pelting the pavement. Great. Now his horse would wait in the rain while he learned which fork to eat with. His mood mirrored the stormy sky above him as he climbed into the buggy and called out to Snickers.

  Twenty-five minutes later, he pulled into Olivia Mae’s lane, his attitude actually worse than it had been when he’d received the message. The door to the barn was open, so he directed the horse inside. Olivia Mae had left an old towel to wipe off the mare, as well as a bucket filled with water and another that he could scoop oats into. After taking care of Snickers’s immediate needs, he dashed across to the front porch, thoroughly drenched by the time he ran up the steps.

  Olivia Mae was standing by the front door. He skidded to a stop a few feet in front of her, his throat suddenly dry. He was unable to figure out whether to cross his arms or leave them at his side. If she noticed his awkwardness, she didn’t comment on it. Instead she smiled, her brown eyes reminding him of a cup of rich, delicious warm cocoa.

  She offered him a towel.

  “What’s this for?”

  “To dry off with.”

  “Oh, yeah.” He accepted the towel, but simply stared at it. Turning, he scowled at the table she’d set up in the middle of the porch. “We’re eating out here?”

  “Ya.”

  “It’s pouring.”

  “I can see that.”

>   “You wouldn’t rather go inside?”

  “Nein. Here is gut. I’ve moved everything back so we won’t get wet.”

  “More wet.”

  “Right. So you won’t get more wet.”

  He grumbled a reply. Was she so embarrassed of him that he couldn’t even go inside the house? He towel-dried his hair, took off his jacket, put it over the back of the chair and plopped down. “Fine.”

  “Let’s try that again.”

  “Excuse me?” If he wasn’t imagining it, she was actually trying to hold back laughter.

  “You’re here for a lesson, Noah. Remember?”

  “How could I forget?”

  “Well, sometimes dates are going to start off badly, like this.”

  “You mean because I’m soaking wet, and I had to rush to get here since I only heard your message half an hour ago? Or because I’m tired, I’m hungry and we’re eating on the porch in a rainstorm?”

  “See, that’s exactly what I mean.”

  “What?”

  “You’re grumpy—out of sorts.”

  “I’m grumpy?” He nearly touched the top of his head to see if steam was coming out of it.

  “Now, I don’t intend to have you walk back to the barn—”

  “Thank goodness for small favors.”

  “Let’s just start when you were coming up the stairs.”

  “Fine. Do I need to put my coat back on?”

  She waved away his suggestion and tugged on his arm. Her small hand on him caused him to break out in a sweat, even though the day had turned cooler with the rain. So why was he sweating? Why did he suddenly feel seventeen again?

  “Stand over here, as if you’re just arriving. Only this time try not to scowl at me.”

  “I’m scowling?”

  “Maybe say hello and ask how my day has been.”

  He thought of walking away then. “This is a bad idea. This entire evening is a bad idea.”

  “I thought you wanted to learn.” Now her voice was serious, and the look on her face seemed to dare him to find a reason to back out of his commitment.

  That was it. She expected him to turn tail and run.

  Well, he’d just see about that.

  He could withstand one dinner in the rain. In fact, now that he could smell the food, his stomach had begun to growl. It would be foolish to leave before he had a chance to eat. So he stood straighter, walked back to the edge of the porch, where a spattering of rain still hit his back, and said, “Olivia, may I step forward three steps?”

  “Now you’re making fun of me and my name.”

  “Am not.”

  “Are too. You know my name is Olivia Mae, and you’re playing on the word may...” She closed her eyes and pulled in a deep breath.

  Ha! Mission accomplished. He was getting to her. He was testing her patience in the same way that she tried his. Two could play at that game.

  “Try again, please.”

  “All right. Olivia Mae, you look beautiful tonight. How was your day?”

  “It was gut. Nice rain we’re having.”

  “Nice indeed.”

  She motioned toward the chair where he’d been sitting a few minutes earlier. “I thought we’d have a picnic outside, but since it’s raining I moved it to the porch.”

  “Gut idea.”

  He started to sit, but when she shook her head, he froze.

  “Problem?” he asked in a stage whisper.

  “Pull out my chair for me. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do.”

  “So now we’re teaching me to be a gentleman?”

  “It’s a goal, ya.”

  He was still put out with her, but found it impossible to stay angry. Something about that impish grin she wore stole his irritation and sent it out into the storm.

  “May I help you with your chair, Olivia Mae?”

  She rolled her eyes, but allowed him to pull back the chair and then scoot it in.

  “I’ve never seen my dat do that for my mamm.”

  “It would be awkward to do so the rest of your married life.”

  “It’s our first date. We’ve already decided we’re getting married?” He was enjoying teasing her, but Olivia Mae was all seriousness. He’d have thought she was a schoolmarm teaching advanced math.

  “Many of the things you do on early dates are to set the tone of a relationship. Once that relationship, that bond, is established, some things are no longer necessary.” She stared up at the corner of the porch ceiling as if she was trying to remember something, then added, “Though it’s always kind to open a buggy door for a woman no matter how long you’ve been married.”

  “I thought today’s women wanted more independence.” The teasing had slipped away, replaced by his general confusion with the opposite gender.

  “Women are not a deep dark secret, Noah. At the heart of it all, women want the same thing that men do—to be respected.” She straightened the fork, which was positioned just so beside her plate. “As far as independence, well, I couldn’t answer that.”

  The next few moments passed in an agonizing fashion.

  He felt like a youngie.

  She reminded him to put his napkin in his lap.

  She told him to pick up the dishes and offer them to her first, then serve himself.

  “Should I stand up and serve you?”

  “You’re kidding, but no, you shouldn’t. You offer the dish to the woman first because she cooked the meal and you want her to have the first selection.”

  “Seems like my mamm always serves herself last.”

  “That’s exactly my point. So take this plate of chicken, for instance. A woman might stand in a hot kitchen, frying chicken over spattering grease, and by the time the plate goes around the table, there’s little left for her to eat but a wing.”

  “Maybe she needs to cook more.” He smiled to show he wasn’t serious. He passed her the mashed potatoes, hot rolls and salad. Both of their plates were now quite full, but she still hadn’t picked up a fork, and his stomach was growling.

  “My family usually prays silently. Does yours?”

  “Ya.”

  “All right. So once the food is served, simply bow your head. Your date will do the same.”

  He bowed his head but peeked at her.

  “Don’t do that.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Pray as you usually would and then a soft amen will indicate you’re finished but not interrupt your date if she’s still praying.”

  “Can I start eating now?”

  “Nein. Wait for her to look up at you.” She raised her head and smiled at him, and another piece of the ice that had formed around his heart melted away.

  * * *

  Olivia Mae did not like the way her pulse beat faster when Noah gave her that beseeching look. This was a lesson, nothing more. He’d said absolutely nothing to indicate he might be interested in her romantically. If anything, he’d made it rather obvious that he still didn’t think she could find a match for him.

  While she corrected his manners, which were as bad as any bachelor’s but no worse than some she’d worked with, she tried to remain detached and professional. It was hard, given what was going on in her personal life. Her thoughts drifted to the phone conversation with her brother and the doctor appointments for her grandparents.

  “Where did you go?” Noah asked.

  “Go?”

  “I lost you there for a minute.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s been a difficult week.”

  Noah cocked his head and waited. She’d noticed that he was good at listening once he conquered his initial battle of nervousness. But this evening wasn’t about her or her problems. It was about Noah and helping him to prepare for his next real date.

  “Tell me one of
your silly jokes.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure. Make me laugh. I could use a laugh today.” She said it in a lighthearted way, but even she heard the pain beneath her words.

  Noah sat back and rubbed his chin as if he needed to think long and hard, but he couldn’t keep up the act for long. He pushed his plate forward—a plate that looked as if it had been licked clean—and crossed his arms on the table.

  “What do you get if you cross an angry sheep and a moody cow?”

  “A sheep with mad cow disease?”

  “Moody, not mad. That was a gut answer, though.”

  “Okay, tell me. What do you get if you cross an angry sheep and a moody cow?”

  “An animal that’s in a ba-a-a-a-aad moo-oo-ood.”

  He sounded exactly like a sheep and then like a cow—or enough like one to make her laugh. “Your imitation is better than your joke.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  He smiled and seemed to relax for the first time since he’d arrived, causing Olivia Mae to realize he was quite a handsome man. He had nice hair, and a strong profile and beautiful eyes. She’d barely processed those thoughts, when her mammi pushed through the screen door.

  “Elizabeth. What are you doing out here in the rain?”

  Olivia Mae jumped up. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Can I help?” Noah called after her, but she was already at the door, guiding Mammi back inside.

  “I couldn’t find you,” Mammi said.

  “I told you I was on the porch, remember? Giving Noah a lesson.”

  “Looked to me like you were giving him dinner.” Mammi’s hands shook slightly as Olivia Mae led her back into the kitchen, stepping around the soup pot and basin that she’d placed under the leaks in the roof. The rain made a pat-pat-pat sound as it plopped into the containers.

  “I don’t know any boy named Noah. Where is Henry?”

  Olivia’s heart sank at the mention of her father’s name. She’d hoped that when her grandmother called her Elizabeth it had been a slip, but it seemed that she was experiencing another one of her episodes that threw her into the past.

  “Let me fix you some hot tea.”