A Match For Addy (The Amish Matchmaker Book 1) (11 page)

Of necessity, he’d adopted his father’s way of thinking. “Wood and stone make a house, but a woman makes a home,” his father always said. He’d left most things in their home, other than family worship practices, to their mother.
Mam
had decided what must be purchased for the household, what needs her children had and how long they would remain in school.

Where most children left formal education at age fourteen, at the end of eighth grade, his mother had insisted that he and his sisters continue their studies for another full year. His mother had taught school before she was married, and she was well-read. She’d even made regular submissions to
The Budget
, and she’d insisted that her children spend some time every day reading or practicing their math. His father always said that his
mam
had more than her share of common sense, and he’d advised Gideon to find a bride with an equally good mind. Gideon wondered what his parents would think of someone like Addy. Would they see the prickly exterior, or would they recognize what a fine, strong woman she was?

As he neared the house, Gideon began to grow nervous. Was it proper to offer Addy flowers? Would she be offended, or worse, would she laugh at him? Maybe Seven Poplars fellows didn’t give girls flowers. His mother had always told them that his
dat
had gotten her attention when, in the third grade, he’d picked her an armful of black-eyed Susans with a honeybee tangled in the blossoms. The bee had stung her, and she teased his
dat
to this day that he’d done it on purpose because she’d beaten him in a spelling bee that morning. Gideon had looked through the dogwood blossoms for bees, even though he’d never seen bees around dogwood. He didn’t want history to repeat itself.

When Gideon reached the back porch, he found that the yard was empty, and he stood there with the bouquet in his hands, wondering what to do. Should he put them in the kitchen sink for Sara? Or would it be better to just toss them into the chicken pen and forget the whole thing? He didn’t want to make a bigger fool of himself, and the idea of giving Addy the flowers was beginning to seem worse by the moment.

Just as he was about to cut and run, the back door opened, and Ellie came out with a dishpan of potato peelings. “Gideon. I was just taking these out to the pigs. Would you mind? I’ve got a pot of potato soup on the stove, and I don’t want the milk to boil over.” He knew she’d seen the flowers, but she didn’t ask why he was carrying them.

“Ya,”
he said quickly. “I can do that. Sure.”
What to do with the dogwood branches?
He couldn’t carry both the dishpan of peelings and the bouquet, and he didn’t want to leave the arrangement on the porch. Who knew who would come along and ask questions? And what if Joseph found them, took them in and gave them to Addy himself?

“Nice dogwood blossoms,” Ellie remarked. “I imagine that’s the last of the blooms. Getting too warm.” Her bottom lip was twitching. He could see the amusement in her eyes.

Sweat began to trickle down the back of Gideon’s neck. His father was right. He was impulsive. Why had he cut flowers for a girl he had no intention of courting? “Are those for Sara?” Ellie asked.

He couldn’t lie, but his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He couldn’t bring himself to say they were for Addy, so he just shook his head.

Now Ellie’s lips curved into a smile. “Not for me, I hope. Dogwood makes me sneeze.”

Agony. He looked at the ground. Seconds passed. What was wrong with him? When had he ever been tongue-tied in front of a girl? Again, he shook his head.

Ellie took pity on him. “For Addy? She’ll love them. Tomorrow’s her birthday. Did you know that? Tonight, after she goes home, I’m going to bake her a birthday cake.”

He let his breath out with a whoosh of relief.
“Ya,”
he stammered. “F-for her birthday.” He shoved the flowers toward Ellie.

With all the grace that he lacked, Ellie placed the pan of potato peels on the step and gathered the dogwood branches in her arms. “How thoughtful of you,” she said.

Gideon scooped up the dishpan and made his escape, but he hadn’t gone more than a dozen yards when he heard the squeak of the screen door and Addy’s squeal.

“
Danke
, Gideon!” she called after him. “They’re beautiful!”

* * *

“Nobody ever gave me flowers before,” Addy exclaimed to Ellie. “I love dogwoods, and these blossoms are so pretty.” She felt a rush of excitement. Was it possible that things were changing for her?

“They are,” Ellie agreed as she held the door for her friend. “I told you that Gideon likes you.”

Addy looked down at the bouquet. She was almost too thrilled to stand still. “I suppose he does, as a friend, but he doesn’t
like
like me.”

“
Lecherich
! Ridiculous. Of course he likes you, silly goose.” She took a long-handled wooden spoon off the counter and stepped up on her stool to stir the potato soup. “No young man ever brought me flowers, although one did leave a half gallon of strawberry ice cream on my windowsill once.” Ellie giggled. “It melted into a big puddle before I discovered it. A waste of good ice cream.”

“Are they for my birthday? Is that why Gideon cut the dogwoods for me?”

“I told him it was your birthday tomorrow,” Ellie explained, “but that was after he brought the bouquet.”

Addy glanced down at the flowers, touched, but not entirely sure what to make of it. “I...I don’t know what
Mam
will say.”

Ellie took a clean spoon, dipped it into the simmering soup and blew on what she’d dipped out. “You don’t think she’ll approve of Gideon?” She tasted the soup. “
Ach
. Still hot, but I think it needs salt.” Remnants of celery and half an onion sat on the counter. “Would you like to taste it?”

“
Ne
, you make good soup. My mother always puts in too much salt. Maybe we could just put the salt shaker on the table and let everyone salt it to suit themselves.”

Ellie nodded, then arched one dainty eyebrow quizzically. “You didn’t answer me. You think your parents wouldn’t like Gideon? Because he’s a hired hand?”

Addy sighed. “It sounds awful, doesn’t it, that she wouldn’t want me to marry a poor boy. But...” She looked around to make certain they were alone. “It isn’t that
Mam
is a greedy person. She’s not. But things have been hard for her. She wants more for me. ‘Why not choose a husband with a good farm or a steady trade?’ she always says. They have no savings, Ellie, nothing put away for their old age. It will be up to me to care for them, and a poor boy...” She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “It’s not for me so much as them.” She glanced down at her patched skirt and the threadbare sneakers with the hole in one toe. “I’m used to doing without. I don’t mind, but I don’t want to see
Mam
and
Dat
suffer when they can no longer care for themselves.”

Ellie considered and then nodded. “I understand.”

“
Ya
, but no matter how I say it, it comes out wrong,” she admitted. No one had questioned her cousin Anna when she’d accepted Samuel Mast’s proposal. Samuel’s acres were fertile, and his house substantial. And hadn’t their grandmother smiled and offered words of praise when each of Anna’s sisters had married well? Why, then, did she have to feel ashamed that she was looking for someone who could offer her family and her children security?

“Your mother is looking out for your best interests. It’s what parents do,” Ellie said. “And I can’t blame you for not wanting to go against your parents’ wishes.” She smiled. “But they should have nothing against Joseph. And I heard him ask you if he could walk you home from the softball game tonight.”

Addy opened a cabinet door and removed a crockery pitcher. Carefully, she arranged the dogwood blossoms in it, pleased at how pretty they looked in the blue-spatter container. “Maybe I’d best leave these here for Sara to enjoy,” she said, thinking that whether she took them home or not, nothing could change the fact that Gideon had brought them for her.

“Well?” Ellie asked. “Are you going to walk home with Joseph? That should please your mother.”

“Haven’t decided if I’m going.” She put the pitcher in the center of the table, stood back and admired it.

“Oh, you’re going if I have to drag you there.” Ellie turned off the gas burner under the potato soup. “The boys beat the girls twenty to two the other night. Lilly’s pitching is terrible, and she’s better than Mary. I think your cousin Miriam is supposed to be good, but her sister Grace told me that she and Charley are expecting again, so Miriam can’t play. And Charley said that you could pitch like a boy, better than him, he said. So we need you, and you can’t let us down.”

“Can’t
you
pitch?” Addy asked, feeling uneasy. She
could
throw a softball, but she didn’t like the idea of standing in the middle of everyone, being the center of attention.

“I can pitch better than Lilly, but I’m the catcher. Please. It will be fun. I promise.” She grinned. “And maybe Gideon and Joseph will
both
want to walk you home.”

Chapter Nine

“S
trike Gideon out!” Miriam Yoder shouted. “One more! One more!” Miriam and her sister, Susanna, had leaped up out of their folding chairs and waved their arms. Lots of people had come to watch the softball game, including Addy’s father, whom she spotted standing behind Anna Yoder.

It was the bottom of the seventh inning, and the score was tied five to five. The fellows had two outs, Thomas was the runner on third and Joseph was on first. Everyone seemed to be having a great time, but Addy wished she were anywhere but there. Her hands were sweating, and her knees felt weak. So far, she hadn’t made a fool of herself pitching, but she was afraid that she would. The last two times Gideon had been up to bat, he’d hit the ball over the schoolyard fence and into the cow pasture. The determined look on his face told her that he intended to hit another home run.

Gideon was watching Addy, the bat clenched between his hands and a grin on his face. She was pretty sure she could strike him out, she just had to pitch the ball low and inside. She knew he would hate to be shown up by a girl, though, and for a second, she wondered if maybe she should throw a fat pitch down the middle of the plate, one he could definitely hit. Thomas would get home for sure, and if Gideon hit the ball far enough, he and Joseph might do the same. Was that the sensible thing to do for a girl who didn’t want to end up a spinster?

The thought didn’t linger long enough for Addy to catch her breath. If Bishop Atlee had been at bat, she would have tried to strike him out. In softball—Amish or English—you played fair and tried your best. Doing anything less, even to please a man, would have been wrong. Over the years, there were things she’d said and done that she might not have been proud of, but she’d never been dishonest.

Behind Gideon, Ellie, who was catching, reached down and tapped her ankle. She had the same idea that Addy had. Addy pitched the ball low and inside. The edge of Gideon’s bat connected with the ball. The ball hit the ground hard a few yards ahead of him and rolled toward the pitcher’s mound. Gideon dropped the bat and ran toward first. Addy ran, scooped up the ball and threw it to Ellie.

Thomas ran as hard as he could toward the home plate, but Ellie darted out and tagged him. He scooped up Ellie and kept running, then he tripped and they both went down. Everyone ran toward them to see if either one of them was hurt, but both came up covered in dust and laughing. Ellie still had the ball clutched in her glove, and Thomas owned up that he was out, fair and square. Some of the boys were calling for another inning, but everyone was laughing and shouting. Amidst the general excitement from both teams, the umpire, Anna’s husband, Samuel, declared the game officially a tie, then invited both teams back to his house for homemade root beer, ice cream and his wife’s famous donuts.

The boys gathered up the balls, mitts and bats and stowed them in the compartment under the schoolhouse, and then everyone trekked down the lane to the Mast farmhouse. On the big wraparound porch, a group of neighborhood men, mostly fathers of the ballplayers, were pouring paper cups of root beer and bringing donuts and other treats from the house.

“Surprise,” Addy’s
grossmama
called from her rocking chair. “It’s an upside-down frolic.” And the dozens of children, some barely able to toddle, jumped up and down, clapped and cheered.

The other young people seemed as astonished as Addy. She couldn’t remember being at an
upside-down
frolic for years. It meant that the women sat and were waited on while the men and boys served the refreshments and cleaned up the mess. As Addy, Ellie and the rest of the girls rounded the house and saw the side yard, it was evident that a lot of planning had gone into the surprise. Someone had set up tables, not in long rows as was normal for communal meals, but placed here and there under the trees among the blankets spread on the ground. Addy caught sight of Sara near the back door. When Sara noticed Addy, she waved and hurried toward her.

“I’m sorry I missed the softball,” Sara said. “But I’m glad I caught you. There’s someone I want you to meet. Nathan King. He’s visiting Bishop Atlee’s family. Nathan is a cousin of the bishop’s wife. He’s from western Maryland.”

Addy looked at her questioningly. “Is he...”

“Looking for a wife? He is. Nathan’s a widower, but he’s a little older than I’d like for you. His children are grown and out of the house, all but a daughter, fifteen. Still, he owns a nice butcher shop and is well-established. The bishop vouches for his character and situation.” She motioned for Addy to walk with her. “No need for you to be nervous. I’ll make arrangements for you to meet him. Nathan isn’t here this evening. He’s at the bishop’s home with a toothache. And just as well, because Joseph asked your father for permission to walk you home.”

Addy was still trying to imagine the older Nathan King. She could picture him in her mind as a stout man in a white apron stained with blood. Now the image of a swollen jaw and him clamping an ice bag came to her. She looked at Sara. “He did?”

“He did, indeed. He’s anxious to please, our Joseph. Doesn’t want to offend your parents. Wants to do everything right.”

Addy paused to brush dust off her apron. “Does
Mam
know?”

“
Ya
, she’s the one who told me. Naturally, she had questions about Joseph’s prospects. He’s not so well-fixed as the butcher, but he could pay your fee, and he has a half interest in a house left to him and his brother by a grandfather.”

Two
men interested in her at the same time? No wonder her mother had appeared happy.

“I know that Joseph told you he sells livestock, mostly cattle, and he’s got a small farm. If you chose Joseph, it’s only fair to tell you, though, that he takes care of his brother. I understand that the brother’s not able to live on his own, an unfortunate accident when he was a child.” She smiled reassuringly and touched Addy’s cheek. “You’d not have to take care of him, other than in a normal way as part of the household. He’s able physically and no burden. But Joseph tells me that his brother will never marry. I didn’t think you would consider that a problem. Am I correct?”

“Of course it wouldn’t be a problem.” They had stopped to stand under a pin oak in the backyard. All around Addy, she could hear the sounds of laughter and people enjoying each other’s company. “If I...” She felt herself flush with embarrassment. “I mean if we...” She took a deep breath. “I didn’t know that Joseph was interested in me...in
that
way.”

“How could you not know? The way he hangs on every word you say and spends his whole workday trying to put himself in your path?” Sara rested her fists on her hips and chuckled. “I don’t know where your mother got the idea that you’d be difficult to match. Nothing wrong with you that a little polishing won’t cure. I think you’ve been your own greatest obstacle, Addy.”

“You really think so?” she asked. Was it possible that she wasn’t as hopeless as she’d believed?

“You should know by now that I don’t give unearned praise, Addy. You’re a good girl. You’ve average looks, but you carry yourself well, and you have strength of character. I’ve told you before, it’s what’s inside that counts. And before any man can love you, you must love yourself.”

Addy nodded slowly.

“I’ll not speak against your mother,” Sara said, lowering her voice. “She wants the best for you, and she’s had a hard life. It’s only natural for her only daughter that she’d want more for you than she had herself. But...” Sara sighed. “Martha can be critical, more so with you, I think, because she sees herself in you.” Her eyes narrowed. “You aren’t your mother, and you have no need to take the first man who asks you to wed him. You’ll not be an old spinster.”

Addy looked down at the woman who was not just her employer anymore, but her friend. “You promise?”

“I give you my word, Addy. So long as you listen to reason, I’ll find you a good match.” She winked mischievously. “And maybe one better than you ever hoped for.”

* * *

“Why did you ask my father if you could walk me home?” Addy asked Joseph as he helped her over the stile that led into her Aunt Hannah’s cow pasture. This wasn’t the same stile that had broken and caused her so much grief the first day she’d met Gideon. No one had ever allowed
this
stile to become unsafe, because her Uncle Jonas had built it, and her cousins’ husbands kept it in good repair.

Crossing Aunt Hannah’s farm was the best way home to Addy’s house from Anna and Samuel’s by foot. Her cousin and Samuel had the farm closest to the schoolhouse, and this was the path that Addy had always taken as a child going to school. These sturdy steps had taken her from nervous six-year-old to a young woman; she’d climbed them twice a day until she’d graduated from the eighth grade.

“You should have asked me, instead of asking my father,” she told Joseph as she released his hand, once she reached the ground on the far side of the fence. They began walking across the field. “Or you might have asked Ellie to speak for you.”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure.” Joseph kept pace beside her, but maintained a seemly distance between them. It was twilight, but not yet dark. “I was introduced to your father, and I just thought...” He looked at her. “Would you have said yes if I’d just walked right up to you and asked you?”

“I would have,” she answered honestly. She liked Joseph, but whether she liked him
enough
was the question. He talked a lot, but she didn’t feel as though she knew him. He seemed a good person, kind, and he worked hard. He definitely had her respect, but... The thought came to her that he wasn’t Gideon, and she was a little shocked. Why would she be comparing a perfectly good suitor to Gideon?

“
Goot
. I didn’t know whether you would or not,” Joseph went on. “I didn’t know if you and Gideon...”

Gideon!
Now Joseph was talking about Gideon. Was he the center of everything? Sure, this evening he’d had his usual circle of admiring girls at the horseshoe pits, and he’d eaten his cake and ice cream with a bevy of giggling, eligible young women at his table. But that was no affair of hers. If they wanted to fuss over him, what did it matter? They were friends, nothing more.

“If Gideon and I what?” she asked, her voice a little cross. Instantly, Sara’s warning came to her, and she forced herself to speak more kindly. “Why would you think that Gideon had any attachment to me?”

He shrugged. “The two of you seem...seem so easy together, as if you’ve known each other a long time. Or had an agreement.”

“Ne,”
she protested. “He is a nice person, and we work together. That’s all.”

“Goot,”
Joseph repeated. “Watch out.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her to one side. “The cows,” he said, pointing to a dark pile on the ground.

“
Danke
. I didn’t notice.” It was almost dark. Easy to miss where the cows had been. Had she stepped into it, her shoe would have been a mess.

“That’s the one trouble with crossing a pasture at night,” Joseph said, and then chuckled at his joke. “Cow pies.”

She wasn’t sure how to answer so she didn’t say anything. For years, she’d dreamed of a young man asking to walk her home or to drive her in his rig, but now that it had happened, it wasn’t as much fun as she’d thought it would be. Joseph was obviously uncomfortable, as well. Maybe because all he could think to talk about was cow pies?

“Tell me about your brother,” she said, changing the conversation.

“His name is Howard.”

“Is he your only brother?” she asked. She had the feeling that Joseph might reach out to take her hand, but she wasn’t sure she would let him. She liked Joseph fine, but was that enough? Lilly certainly didn’t mind going home with different suitors. And her cousin Miriam had shocked everyone by walking out with not one but two different beaus at the same time. So why was this so difficult?

“
Ya
. We have three sisters. They’re all married. One of them would take Howard if...if my wife didn’t feel comfortable with him in the house. But he is happiest when things stay the same. Howard has slept in the same bedroom and eaten at the same table all his life. My grandparents raised us after my parents died.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. She couldn’t imagine losing both her mother and father.

“I didn’t really know them. I was very young when... They were driving home from an auction. There was a tornado. The team survived. I always thought that was a blessing. That the horses lived.” He shrugged again. “I think they were
goot
people. My sisters say so, and Howard cried for a long time. But I don’t remember much, just my grandmother and grandfather.”

“So Howard is older than you?”

“Five years. The girls are older still. You would like Howard. He’s
goot
at growing things. You should see his garden. He was with them, you see. I was at home with my grandmother because I had the measles. They didn’t find Howard until the next day, and he was hurt badly. Before the accident, they said that he knew his letters and could count to one hundred. But after...his mind didn’t work so well. He was caught under a tree branch. He has a scar on his head, but it’s in his hair and doesn’t show.”

“I can tell that you care for him very much,” she said, wanting Joseph to go on talking. It was easier than the awkward silence.

“
Ya
, I do. He is a
goot
brother. Always patient. Happy. Very clean. He doesn’t talk a lot. And he never complains about my cooking.”

Addy wondered if Howard was the reason Joseph hadn’t married. Did other women have a problem with the idea of marrying a man with such responsibilities? It didn’t sound like a bad thing to her, having such a brother-in-law. She’d heard that among the English, relatives were sometimes sent away to live with strangers, but not among the
Plain
people. They cared for their own, she thought, and it seemed right.

If she and Joseph came to an understanding, she wouldn’t let Howard stand in the way of her accepting. But...but it wasn’t Howard that was holding her back. She almost sighed out loud.