A Match For Addy (The Amish Matchmaker Book 1) (5 page)

“Goot,”
Addy replied. “Because I wouldn’t want that, either.” She got to her feet and brushed off her skirts. “I have to go. My mother will wonder where I’ve gotten to. There’s bound to be cleaning up.”

He stood. “Should I come to help?”

She shook her head. “Women’s work, and not so hard as to break the rules of the Sabbath. Only dishes and food to clear away.”

Gideon stood there awhile, leaning on the fence after Addy left and unable to get what she’d said out of his mind. Could her grandmother be right? he wondered. Was his reluctance to choose a wife
hochmut
? He tried every day to live by the principles of his faith. Was it wrong to hope that there was someone waiting...someone he could love with all of his heart...someone special that he just hadn’t found yet?

Chapter Four

A
ddy arrived at Sara’s promptly at 8:00 a.m. Thursday morning, and by nine, she and Ellie had cleared away the breakfast dishes, picked crook-neck squash, eggplant and tomatoes from the garden, and swept the front and back porch. Now they were busily taping Sara’s parlor in preparation for painting the walls and trim. The previous day, Gideon had given the ceiling two coats of a soft white and carried in two gallons of pale blue, two brushes, two rollers and a shiny new paint tray.

Addy stood on a stepladder to tape off the white ceiling molding while Ellie applied the blue tape to the floor molding. Addy never ceased to be amazed at how quickly and efficiently the little woman worked. She put Addy in mind of a honeybee, laughing or singing instead of buzzing, but constantly in motion. Any preconceived notions Addy had had about a little person had been quickly replaced with respect. Not only did Ellie do her share of the housework—Addy also found she had to scramble just to keep pace. And Ellie was always good-natured and fun to be around.

Addy had lived in Seven Poplars all her life, and it was rare that she got to spend time with another Amish girl from far off. And although, from what Ellie said, life was much the same in her home community in Wisconsin, Addy found her stories of girlfriends and rejected suitors and new jokes fascinating.

She guessed that Ellie was a few years younger than she was, but like her, past the age that most Amish girls in Seven Poplars married. She supposed that it had to be difficult for a little person, even one as pretty and personable as Ellie, to find a husband. Not that Ellie seemed to mind. According to what Sara said, Ellie was one of her most difficult girls to match, more because she was picky than because she was a little person. Addy was dying to ask how many matches Ellie had turned down, but didn’t want to seem rude.

Addy slowly inched the roll of blue tape along the crown molding with one hand, smoothing it with the other. “Do you know the Zook boy Mary and Violet were talking about on Sunday? The one in Wisconsin?”

“Abram?” Ellie paused, a strip of blue tape suspended between her hands. “I don’t really know him, but Sara asked my mother if she thought I’d be interested. He’s a nice fellow, so I hear, a hard worker, but...” She grimaced. “Too much of him for me, my
mam
and
dat
said. Too much Abram altogether.”

“He’s a large man?”

“About the size of one of my father’s Percheron draft horses.” She giggled. “Or maybe the whole team.”

“Ellie,” Addy scolded, a little titillated by her new friend’s daring. “That isn’t kind. My
dat
says that a person is the way God made them, and we should accept them as they are.”

“Ya,”
Ellie agreed. “But think about it. How foolish would we look together? Me little, Abram...well...Abram. If we sat on the porch swing and it didn’t break, it would be like a schoolyard seesaw. He’d sit down, and my end of the swing would fly up.” She chuckled and shook her head. “
Ne
, Addy. Better I be an old maid knitting baby bonnets for my sisters and mufflers for my brothers than be married to such as Abram.”

“I suppose.” No fat boy had ever asked to walk out with her. No boy, fat, skinny or in between, had even driven her home from a singing or a work frolic. The truth was that she’d passed her dating years watching other girls ride out with boys in their buggies, and play badminton with them on their front lawns.

Her one venture into the marriage market had been a near miss with the then-new preacher in Seven Poplars, Caleb Wittner. Her
dat
and
mam
had wanted her to marry him, and for a while, Caleb had come to several family dinners. But they’d never gotten past the considering-each-other part of dating. Caleb was a respectable enough man, but she hadn’t felt as if he were someone with whom she could spend the rest of her life. He seemed a little boring to her, with nothing to talk about but his woodworking. To her parents’ regret, she’d put an end to that courtship before it had even started. Which turned out to be just as well because he soon married her cousin Rebecca, and they were a perfect match.

Addy sighed. It would be nice to have someone she liked pursue her, even if she did later turn him down. But there always seemed to be more eligible young Amish women than suitors, which was why Sara’s matchmaking services were in such high demand.

She climbed down the ladder, moved it over a foot and climbed up it again. The smell of baking bread wafted in from the kitchen. Sara was a fantastic baker, and she preferred to make rye or whole-wheat loaves with yeast instead of the baking powder biscuits that Addy had grown up eating. Sara liked to get her baking out of the way early in the day, and Addy’s mouth watered at the thought of the midday meal they would be sitting down to in a few hours. Between the apple tarts, the
lebkuchen
, the
fastnachts
, the streusels and the shoofly pies that Sara whipped up in her kitchen, it was a wonder that she wasn’t as plump as Addy’s cousin Anna.

Thinking of Sara’s round face brought a question to mind. Addy glanced around to see that they were alone and lowered her voice. “Why is Sara’s skin darker than ours?” she asked Ellie.

Ellie shrugged. “I don’t know. Don’t you have anyone with dark skin in your community?”

“Ne.”
Addy felt her face grow warm, and she was sorry she’d asked. Most Amish she knew were fair-skinned, with rosy cheeks and German features. Sara had curly, almost blue-black hair, but she didn’t look African-American. What was her family background?
Mam
had asked her this morning if she knew.

Ellie bent over and measured out another length of tape for the windowsill. “Not so unusual to have members with darker skin in other Amish settlements. I went to school with a girl who was very brown, but she was a foster child that a family in our church adopted. Louise, her name was. Very good at arithmetic. She won the prize every year at the end-of-school picnic.”

“I just wondered.” Addy turned back to her task. “It’s not important.”

“Not all people are alike,” Ellie said. “And a good thing, wouldn’t you agree?”

Addy nodded, liking the way Ellie looked at things. “
Ya
, a good thing.”

“What’s a good thing?” Gideon came into the parlor carrying a toolbox in one hand and a door latch in the other.

“Nothing,” Addy said quickly, concentrating on unrolling more tape.

Why did she always feel as if she was showing herself at her worst when Gideon popped up? She didn’t want him to think of her as nosy or disapproving of the good woman who paid their wages. She’d only asked because her mother’s question had made her curious.

Gideon stared at her, narrowing his gaze. “But the two of you were—”

“Is that latch for the closet door?” Ellie interrupted, thankfully coming to Addy’s recue.

“
Ya
, Peanut, what else would it be?” Gideon shot back.

Addy glanced at Ellie to see if his retort or the nickname would hurt her feelings, but Ellie only laughed.

“Hard to say what you might be up to, Long Legs.” Ellie winked at Addy. “All he could talk about this morning at breakfast was the Beachys’ singing. Asking who might be there and if I was going. His mind was on funning and not on his plate and he salted his coffee instead of his eggs.”

Gideon laughed and set down his toolbox by the closet door. “A little salt makes everything taste better, Short Stuff. And you never did tell me if you were going.”

“What did I tell you, Addy? You’d think he never got away from the farm. Poor, overworked Gideon. And maybe these Delaware girls won’t think you’re anything special, once you’re at the singing,” she teased, wagging a small finger at him. “I heard you sing at church on Sunday.” She crinkled up her nose. “You probably shouldn’t be the loudest.”

Gideon laughed and slapped his knee.

Addy pretended to concentrate on peeling back a little bit of the blue tape where she’d laid it crooked. She wondered why Gideon was so amused by everything Ellie said, even when she made jokes at his expense. She treated him like a pesky younger brother, and he seemed to love it. The thought that Gideon might be interested in Ellie gave her a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach, and she immediately felt guilty. What if they did like each other?

Maybe Ellie’s parents wouldn’t care if a poor hired hand courted her. Addy didn’t know how much Ellie’s family was offering to entice a husband, but if there was land or a nice dowry at stake, Gideon’s family might well overlook her size. Clearly, he didn’t mind.

Most young men either learned a trade or farmed, but land cost so much that few boys could hope to start farming without the backing of their families. By the looks of Gideon’s ill-fitting and patched clothing, he couldn’t expect any financial support to buy property.

She immediately felt bad that she’d judged him, but facts were facts. A strong back and a handsome face weren’t enough to get by on. Life was difficult, and she knew it. Even though her father owned a farm, times had always been tough for them. Many times, she’d seen her mother make it over, make it do or do without. Just because the Amish lived apart from the world didn’t mean that they didn’t have taxes to pay and expenses to meet. Her mother had urged her to take a husband who had a solid future, a man with prospects, and Addy could understand why. She hoped that if Ellie did like Gideon, she realized what she was getting into.

Or maybe the give-and-take between Ellie and Gideon was as innocently lighthearted as it seemed, and the two of them knew how to play the game that no one had ever explained to her. Maybe if she’d grown up with brothers as Ellie had, she would be more at ease with the opposite sex, but there was no changing that. Addy was what she was, and even with a pretty new name and dress, underneath she was just as awkward as ever.

“What about you, Addy?” Gideon asked. “You’re going to the Beachys’ tonight, aren’t you?”

She pretended to concentrate on attaching the strip of tape. She didn’t know what to say. Of course, she loved get-togethers with singing, good companionship, prayer and laughter. All her unmarried friends would be there. But for several years, she’d been one of the older girls, and it got harder and harder to watch other young women ride or walk home with the boys while she caught a ride with a group or walked home alone. The last time she’d attended a gathering, a taffy-pull two weeks earlier, her
dat
had let her take the horse and cart. That had been just as bad because, once again, she’d driven home alone while all the other girls seem to have paired up with young men.

Addy was beginning to feel as if she were one of the chaperones rather than one of the girls. And maybe that was what it would come to. Her last birthday was months ago, but it would come again soon enough, and when it did, she’d be thirty. The thought made her stomach turn over. Most girls married by twenty-five, and as her mother was quick to remind her, time to make a good marriage was fast running out.

“What is it with you two?” Gideon demanded. He assumed a solid stance, legs slightly apart, arms folded over his broad chest, and scowled at them. “Yes or no? Am I the only one of the three of us who wants to have some fun?”

Ellie threw up her small hands in surrender. “All right, all right,” she said. “I’ll go.”

“Addy?” He turned those beautiful gray eyes on her, and her heart skipped a beat.

“Maybe,” she managed.

He spun around to look back at Ellie. “How far away is the Beachy farm?”

“A mile and a half, maybe,” she answered.

“Good, we’ll walk.” He swung back around. “So, it’s decided. We’re all going. Addy, we’ll swing by your house and pick you up on our way. I may not convince any of the pretty girls to let me walk them home, but at least I’ll arrive with two.”

Thrilled, Addy grabbed ahold of the ladder with one hand to steady herself. Gideon wanted her to go to the singing! He’d asked—no—he’d
insisted
that she walk to the frolic with him. Happiness bubbled up in her chest, and she felt a little lightheaded. No boy had ever insisted she go to a youth gathering before. And none had ever promised to come by and get her. She felt that she should say something, but she was struck speechless with excitement. All she could do was nod.

“It’s settled, then.” Gideon clapped his hands together and turned to the sagging closet door. “We’re going, and we’ll have a wonderful time. And I’ll prove to you—” he indicated a chuckling Ellie with a raise of his chin “—that Half Pint here doesn’t recognize a fine voice when she hears it.”

* * *

Elmer Beachy had passed the word that the singing at his father’s home would start at seven, but by the time Gideon, Ellie and Addy got there, a spirited volleyball game was already in play. The walk from Addy’s farm hadn’t been that far. Instead of taking the road, they had followed the path that led through her Aunt Hannah’s farm to the Seven Poplars schoolhouse, where Ellie would be teaching in the fall. Once they reached the schoolyard, it had only been a short distance to the Beachys’ lane.

More than a dozen buggies and a few wagons had passed them, but Addy had refused the offered rides, giving the excuse that she wanted to stretch her legs. What she’d really wanted was to prolong the time she and Ellie spent with Gideon, talking and laughing. Addy had never felt excluded from the life of the community, and she had certainly always had friends. But her place had always been on the outside of a circle, never the center. Being with Ellie and Gideon made her feel special, even if she suspected he’d asked her to walk with them just to be kind. They did all work for Sara, and it would have been rude not to invite her.

But this evening, the tables were turned. It was Addy who knew everyone and introduced the strangers. Of course, Ellie had been in Seven Poplars for a few weeks, but the people she had met before were mostly from their church district. Tonight, unmarried Amish young people would gather from all over Kent County for the singing. And although their host, Elmer Beachy, had recently turned only twenty, the majority of his guests were a little older. It was a relief to Addy to know that she wouldn’t be competing with sixteen-year-olds. Not that a singing was a competition, but it was one of the few social occasions where rules of behavior keeping boys and girls apart were somewhat relaxed.