Книга - A Groom For Ruby

A Groom For Ruby
Emma Miller


A Match at First SightArriving from Lancaster County in hopes of finding a husband, Ruby Plank stumbles—literally—into the arms of one of Seven Poplars’ most eligible bachelors. To her amazement, Joseph Brenneman doesn’t care if Ruby is clumsy or outspoken. The shy, handsome mason thinks she’s wonderful exactly as she is. If only others felt the same! Though Joseph’s mother hired the matchmaker to find her son a wife, she insists Ruby isn’t good enough. When Ruby’s family secret is revealed, it could divide the couple forever…unless pride gives way to love and trust.The Amish Matchmaker: Bringing love to Seven Poplars—one couple at a time!







A Match at First Sight

After arriving from Lancaster County in hopes of finding a husband, Ruby Plank stumbles—literally—into the arms of one of Seven Poplars’s most eligible bachelors. To her amazement, Joseph Brenneman doesn’t care if Ruby is clumsy or outspoken. The shy, handsome mason thinks she’s wonderful exactly as she is. If only others felt the same! Though Joseph’s mother hired the matchmaker to find her son a wife, she insists Ruby isn’t good enough. When Ruby’s family secret is revealed, it could divide the couple forever...unless pride gives way to love and trust.


“Let him still be here,” she whispered.

“Please let him be here.” She felt as though she’d swallowed a double handful of goose feathers. She liked Joseph; she really did. And she wanted him to like her. She stopped short, seeing the empty swing. Her heart sank and her knees went weak.

And then she saw him on his knees beside the fishpond. “Joseph!” she called too loudly. She gave him her best smile as she hurried toward him.

“Ruby.” He rose and stepped back from the edge of the pool.

“I brought you a drink,” she said. “It’s hot out here. I hope you like lemonade.”

Joseph nodded. “Ya, I do.” His lips curved in a tentative smile.

She’d remembered his amazing eyes, but memory wasn’t as good as looking at him here in full daylight. They were as blue as cornflowers, intelligent, and they inspired trust. They were Deitsch blue eyes that seemed lit from within.

Was this the man her mother promised her would come?


Dear Reader (#u11ccd54d-f96b-56f9-98b3-f69668d76425),

It’s said that honesty is the best policy, but life is complicated. Can you imagine a situation where it would be better to hide things about yourself from someone you’ve just met? What if you’ve had a bad experience before and don’t want to repeat the same heartbreak?

This is what happens when Ruby Plank comes to matchmaker Sara Yoder to find a husband. Ruby wants desperately to meet that perfect man who will value her for who she is. She isn’t pretty, a good cook or a fine seamstress, but she’s a good person who tries to live a Godly life. And she’s the beloved only child of a mother and father she adores, parents who have advised her to keep a big secret.

The matchmaker isn’t happy about the deception, but she’s certain she can find a suitable match for good-hearted Ruby, even if she is a klutz. As usual, things don’t go as planned, and when Ruby literally tumbles into the arms of shy Joseph Brenneman, knocks him senseless and sends him to the hospital, love blossoms. But the path of true love has a few bumps, and the mountain in this relationship is Joseph’s formidable mother. From their first meeting, Magdalena distrusts the plain, chubby girl from Lancaster County, and she won’t give up until she puts an end to the courtship.

I hope you enjoy Ruby and Joseph’s story, and I hope their love touches you as it has me. Come back and join us soon in the Amish community of Seven Poplars. I’m always happy to welcome new readers and old friends to life among the gentle people.

Wishing you peace and joy,

Emma Miller


EMMA MILLER lives quietly in her old farmhouse in rural Delaware. Fortunate enough to be born into a family of strong faith, she grew up on a dairy farm, surrounded by loving parents, siblings, grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. Emma was educated in local schools and once taught in an Amish schoolhouse. When she’s not caring for her large family, reading and writing are her favorite pastimes.


A Groom for Ruby

Emma Miller






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Be kind to each other, tenderhearted,

forgiving one another, just as

God through Christ has forgiven you.

—Ephesians 4:32


Contents

Cover (#u3c4c90ba-9b89-57b1-a982-b83fdc2bf911)

Back Cover Text (#u53931b65-fe61-512c-829a-3fce3d56c6f0)

Introduction (#u0c963c9b-3e04-55c7-82cf-e0286b22cc2a)

Dear Reader (#u39c0e6a2-1608-5500-9eb8-0487792cbf0e)

About the Author (#uabd9b3de-40bd-5b4c-b162-ee51ddfe43da)

Title Page (#u0481f23e-f616-5793-8858-b0765912ddf3)

Bible Verse (#ufa7898e1-f4e1-57c6-9a26-387861b610c6)

Chapter One (#u08100b1f-9c98-5eca-b873-567d2462d7ab)

Chapter Two (#u7375c2ad-19f4-5c61-9157-bb10aa054d30)

Chapter Three (#u0b1a0479-c1a0-583f-a6ce-6d5eb5b40752)

Chapter Four (#u87f0f6d6-81ac-5bbe-a5ce-cf027c38e8b7)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One (#u11ccd54d-f96b-56f9-98b3-f69668d76425)

Kent County, Delaware

“I’m sorry we couldn’t have had a nicer day to greet you,” the matchmaker said as she guided her driving horse onto a curving country lane. “We usually have beautiful weather in September.”

Seated beside Sara Yoder on the buggy seat, Ruby nodded and clutched her black purse on her lap. She was too nervous to think of a sensible reply that wouldn’t make her hostess believe she was a complete gooseberry. She’d been eager to come to Seven Poplars and had counted the weeks and days until her mommi and daddi had put her on the bus. But now that she was finally here, she was suddenly struck dumb.

Thunder rumbled overhead and heavy rain beat against the thin roof and sides of the buggy. It was raining too hard for her to see much through the window over the dashboard. Sara’s buggy was black, rather than gray like the ones she was used to, but otherwise it seemed completely familiar to be rolling along to the sound of the horse’s hooves and the creak of the iron wheels. Her father had warned her that Seven Poplars was a more conservative Old Order Amish than their own community, but so far nothing in Sara’s dress or manner of speaking had proved severe.

Still, Ruby had plenty of reason for concern. What if Sara didn’t like her? Worse, what if Ruby didn’t like any of the potential husbands that Sara offered? What if none of the men were interested in Ruby? She was twenty-five, a quarter of a century old. In a community where all of her friends and cousins her age had already married and were mothers or expecting babies, she was practically an old maid. If she failed to find someone, she’d be letting her parents down as well as herself.

All Ruby had ever dreamed of was a good husband, her own home and the opportunity to practice her faith under the loving eyes of her parents. But there would be no plump and laughing babies, no grandchildren for her mother and father, and no future for her if she couldn’t find a husband. And not just any husband would do. She wanted one who would love her with all his heart because, seeing the special relationship her parents had and the way each one had always put the other first, she wasn’t willing to settle for less.

“We’ll give you a few days to feel at home here, meet the other girls who are staying with me and then we’ll talk about some possibilities,” Sara explained.

Ruby nodded. She, who was rarely at a loss for words, felt as though she had a whole shoofly pie stuck in her throat. She swallowed, thinking she might be coming down with something. It had been raining since she’d left home; she’d gotten wet when she’d changed buses in Philadelphia and again when she’d gotten off in Dover. It wasn’t cold out, but she felt damp and chilled, and her stomach had an ache that was either the greasy foot-long chili dog she’d bought from a cart in Philadelphia or she’d caught an ague. She pressed the back of her hand against her forehead, hoping that she wasn’t feverish. Instead of being hot to the touch, her skin felt clammy, so it had to be nerves.

“I’ve already got someone in mind for you,” Sara went on. “A widower only a few years older than you. He has a son, but your mother assured me that you would welcome a stepchild.”

“Ya,” Ruby managed. “Children are a heritage from the Lord, offspring a reward from Him.” She winced. Was that all she could say? Now she was imitating her bishop’s wife, who was never content to speak for herself, but always had to be quoting proverbs so as to appear wiser than she was.

Not that Ruby didn’t love children; she adored them. Since she had been young, she was always mothering orphaned animals, birds, even hapless insects that crossed her path. Once, she caused a ruckus during church service when the mouse she’d rescued from a cat wiggled out of her apron pocket and ran up Katie Brunstetter’s leg.

“Here we are,” Sara announced as she drove the horse into a yard. “And I promise, it all looks cheerier in the sunshine.”

Through the rain, Ruby could make out a sprawling Cape Cod–style house and a white picket fence. Behind the house stood a tidy stable, painted white, and several well-kept outbuildings.

“This rain isn’t going to let up. We’ll have to make a run for it,” Sara told her. “Leave your suitcase in the buggy. I’ll have my hired man bring it in when he unharnesses the horse. Hiram won’t mind and there’s no sense in your struggling with it now.”

A figure in a dark coat and hat dashed from the house toward them. “That must be Hiram now,” Sara said as she climbed down from the driver’s seat and hurried toward the house. She paused only momentarily to exchange words with the man, then turned and waved. Ruby opened the door, peered down and saw a huge puddle.

Sara’s hired man ran up to the buggy. He shouted something and held out his arms, but Ruby couldn’t make out what he’d said above the din of the thunder and the rain pounding on the buggy’s rooftop. “I don’t need help, thanks,” she called. The buggy was high. She wasn’t very tall, so she knew that she’d have to give a little leap or she’d land smack in the middle of the mud puddle.

She forced a smile and hopped down.

At least, that was her intention. But the heel of her shoe caught on the edge of the buggy frame, and when she tried to catch her balance, her other foot caught in the hem of her dress. Having already reached the point of no return, her graceful hop to the ground became a lunge.

Which became a fall and Ruby felt herself sail through the air.

Sara’s hired man darted forward and threw out his arms in an attempt to catch her. They collided. Hard. One second, Ruby felt herself hurling through the air and the next, she slammed into something solid. Her head smacked into the man’s chin. His arms went around her, and the two of them crashed to the muddy ground with her on top of him. As they landed, there was a loud thump and a groan, and her would-be rescuer sagged backward with her full weight on top of him.

Arms and legs akimbo, Ruby rolled off the hired man into the puddle. Instantly, cold water soaked her stockings and skirt. She tried to get her balance by supporting herself with her left hand, but it slipped and she went facedown into the muck. Gasping, she scrambled up, intent on putting distance between her and Sara’s hired man. She was mortified. She’d never live this down. How would she ever look the man in the eye? How could she face the matchmaker? Had any potential bride ever made such an embarrassing entrance to Sara’s home?

Ruby glanced down at the man on the ground, steeling herself to meet an angry expression. But there was none. He hadn’t moved. He lay there stretched on the ground with his eyes closed, his features slack, and the rain beating against his face. Ruby’s heart leaped in her chest. Had she killed him? Crushed him beneath her weight? Ruby had what her mother called a sturdy frame. All the women on her mother’s side were short and stocky.

“Are you hurt?” she yelled. And immediately felt a deep flush wash up her throat and face. Of course, he was hurt. Otherwise he wouldn’t still be lying there in the pouring rain.

He lay there as motionless, as lifeless as the granite mounting block standing beside Sara’s hitching post.

“Ach,” Ruby wailed.

She dropped to her knees and lifted his head. His crumpled wool hat fell away. His face was as pale as buttermilk. His thick brown hair felt sticky to her touch. She jerked her hand back and stared at it, watching the rivulets of red rain. Not red rain. Blood. He was bleeding. A lot. Trickles of blood were running down out of his hair onto the grass. “Sara!” she shouted over her shoulder. “Sara! Come quick! I think I’ve killed your hired man!”

* * *

Joseph groaned and opened his eyes. A woman’s beautiful face loomed over his. He gasped and let his eyes fall shut again. Where was he? He must be dreaming. He felt as if he were spinning and there was a throbbing ache in the back of his head. But he wanted to see those warm brown eyes again... He had to know if she was real or just his imagination.

“Hiram, wake up. You have to wake up,” A melodic, feminine voice urged. “Please don’t die.” He felt her hands on his chest. “You can’t die.”

Hiram? Hiram was dying? Joseph drew in a deep breath and forced his eyes open again. What had happened to Hiram? And why was he dreaming about Sara’s hired man? Joseph parted his lips and tried to speak, but soft fingertips pressed against them.

“Hush, don’t try to talk. Save your strength.”

Save his strength? What for? He started to try to sit up, but another wave of dizziness came over him.

A cool hand pressed against his forehead. “Everything’s going to be all right,” the voice said. But who was this lovely girl? And why was she so concerned about him?

“Who...who are you?” he managed to whisper.

“I’m Ruby. It’s nice to meet you, Hiram.”

What beautiful eyes she had. He’d never seen such beautiful eyes. They were a warm brown, almost the color of cinnamon, streaked with darker ribbons of walnut. They radiated compassion. He could feel himself melting under her gaze.

And her voice...

“Hiram?” he repeated thickly. “I’m not Hiram.”

“Oh, Sara,” the lovely girl said, speaking over her shoulder. “He’s hurt bad. He can’t remember his own name.”

Sara’s chuckle cut through the fog in Joseph’s head like a fresh breeze.

“That’s not Hiram,” Sara exclaimed. “This is one of my clients, Joseph Brenneman.” The matchmaker came to stand over him.

Her voice faded and then came back to him. Joseph wasn’t certain if only a moment had passed or an hour. But it was still raining. “I’ve called Hannah’s daughter, Grace,” the matchmaker said, holding an umbrella over him. “Emergency cell phone came in handy. You’ve got quite a bump there. Hit it on the edge of the brick flowerbed. I think you need to go into town for stitches. The immediate care clinic should be open. Be cheaper and faster than the hospital. I don’t think you need an emergency room.” This last statement seemed to be as much for herself as him.

“I need stitches?” Joseph reached back to gingerly touch his head, but all he could feel was cloth.

“Yes, you need stitches,” the sweet voice chimed in. “Don’t fuss with it. The towel is to stop the bleeding.”

He blinked, trying to focus and then she was there again, the beautiful woman. “You’re Ruby?” he asked. Where had she come from? Could this be the one Ellie had said that Sara had gone to pick up at the bus station? And then in bits and pieces, he remembered going out into the rain to help the women out of the buggy. The girl with the sweet voice had been getting down and... Had she fallen? She must have. Apparently, somehow, they’d fallen together. He stared at her, then lowered his gaze, overcome with shyness.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “It’s all my fault.”

“Ne.” He slowly sat up, holding the wet towel against the back of his head. He wondered where his hat was. It wasn’t proper for him to meet this lovely girl without his head covered. “I...I should have...have caught you.” Joseph tried to remember what Ellie had said about her. Ruby. Even her name was special. Had Ellie said Ruby was coming to marry someone? Was she already spoken for?

Not that it would matter. Ruby would think him a hopeless woodenhead now, a klutz who’d slipped and broken his skull.

“Here’s Grace now,” Sara said. “We were in luck. She was just next door. She’ll drive you into Dover and get you patched up.” And then to Ruby, Sara explained, “Grace is my cousin’s daughter. She’s Mennonite and drives a car.”

“I don’t think I need to see a doctor,” Joseph protested. “It’s just a little bump on the head.” He raised his gaze to Ruby again.

Sara scoffed. “Nonsense. You cracked your head like a melon. You need more stitches than I’d like to put in you. And you’re not to worry about the cost. You fell in my yard, and I’ll pay for everything.”

“Do you feel well enough to walk?” Grace appeared at his side, taking his arm.

“I can walk,” Joseph said.

“I’m going with him.” Ruby grabbed his other arm to help him to his feet. “It’s the least I can do.”

Sara looked at her. “Are you certain? Not sure how long the wait will be.”

“Ne, I want to,” Ruby insisted.

“Well, then, go and change your dress and stockings. There’s no need for you to go out with your things wet and dirty,” Sara replied. “You look as if you’ve been swimming in a mud puddle.”

“I’ll hurry,” Ruby said.

Walking to Grace’s motor vehicle took more effort than Joseph expected. Every step he took was a shaky one. His stomach churned and his head throbbed. He felt foolish with the towel on his head. As they made their way to the black SUV, he remembered his horse and buggy. He’d come to see Sara, and his horse was still harnessed and tied in her shed. “My horse,” he began, but Sara patted his hand.

“Don’t worry. Hiram will take care of him. Plenty of room in my barn.”

“He’s wet,” Joseph said.

“I said you’re not to worry.” She peered into his face. “Hiram can rub him down and give him a nice ration of oats.”

Joseph slid into the back seat and leaned back, gratefully resting his aching head. He thought he only closed his eyes for a moment but then the door on the other side opened and Ruby climbed in. “It will be all right,” she said soothingly.

A short time later, they arrived at the urgent care facility and Joseph, Sara and Ruby got out of the car.

“I’ll call you when we need a ride home,” Sara told Grace. “No telling how long a wait we’ll have.” She turned to Joseph as they went through the automatic doors at the entrance. “You two just find a seat in the waiting room. I’ll check you in. Hopefully, they’ll see you soon.”

But the walk-in facility was busy and it was obvious he wasn’t going to see a doctor right away. Instead, Ruby guided him to a corner of the crowded room while Sara checked him in. Ruby found two empty seats side by side and proceeded to convince another waiting patient and his mother into moving to the far wall so that Sara could sit with her and Joseph. As Joseph watched Ruby, he couldn’t help but be surprised a young woman could be so assertive with Englishers in a strange town.

“You’ll be able to see the television better from over there,” Ruby assured the woman who was wearing a tight Superman T-shirt, cut-off denim shorts and cowboy boots.

Her child, a stout, red-faced boy of about eight, didn’t appear to be too sick to Joseph. In one hand the boy clutched a can of soda, in the other a bag of chips. But he was whining that he was hungry and needed a candy bar from the vending machine. The kid’s head was shaved except for a standing ridge down the center, two inches high and a thin braid hanging down the back of his dirty shirt.

“You’ll be closer to the snacks, as well,” Ruby said with a cheery smile as she scooped up the woman’s rain jacket and handed it to her. The boy’s mother reluctantly gathered her belongings and moved toward the other vacant seats. “Terrible, isn’t it, how you have to wait?” Ruby went on. “We’re so grateful that you were kind enough to allow our friend to sit with us.”

“I want a candy bar!” the boy whined.

“All right, all right,” the woman said as she and her son walked away.

Joseph glanced at Ruby as she plopped her black purse on the empty seat on one side of him and sat down in the other one. He wanted to tell her how much he admired her ability to deal with the situation, but as usual, words failed him. All that he could manage was, “Your English is goot. I mean good.”

To his delight, she turned that sweet smile on him. “Thank you.”

Joseph felt his face grow warm and he averted his eyes.

“My mommi and daddi thought it was important that I learn English early on. Most parents from our church send their little ones off to school not knowing a single word, but not my mam and dat. Not my parents. No, indeed...”

Joseph stole a glimpse of Ruby as she chattered on. Usually, when he was with a girl, he was too nervous to get out a sensible word. He liked girls; he desperately wanted a wife. A family. He just wasn’t good at meeting girls. Talking to them.

Ruby asked him a question, but then thankfully went on, not waiting for him to come up with a clever reply. She just kept talking and he kept staring at her, not even trying to hide his infatuation now.

Joseph couldn’t believe this was happening. If he’d known that falling and cracking his head would have gotten him the attention of a beautiful young woman, he would have done it long ago. Best of all, Ruby wasn’t blaming him. She seemed to think that it was her fault. And she didn’t appear to care whether he talked or not. She seemed to have no problem talking for them both.

Joseph glanced up and saw Sara, who had taken the seat Ruby had saved for her, looking at them. He wondered what she was thinking. Did she think he was slow-witted because Ruby was talking and he wasn’t? Some people who didn’t know him well thought he was slow. Even his mother agonized over his lack of knowing what to say when girls were nearby. “Speak up,” she always told him. When he was a boy, it was “Stand up straight, Joseph. Look people in the eye when they speak to you. Do you want the teacher to think you have an overripe cucumber for a brain?” And now that he was a man full grown, it was “God gave you a mind. Why can’t you show it when it matters most?”

Joseph became aware that Ruby had stopped speaking. He looked into her eyes and was rewarded with another compassionate smile. She was waiting for him to say something, but what? He tried to think. What had she been saying? He was so overwhelmed by her presence that he was at a total loss. And just when he thought the floor would open and swallow him up, Sara came to his rescue.

“Ruby comes to us from Lancaster County in Pennsylvania,” Sara said, handing Ruby her purse. “I’ve promised her parents that I’ll find her a match.”

“Who is it?” he blurted. Was it Levi King? Jason Bontrager? If she’d set her kapp for either of them, he wouldn’t have the chance of a pullet in a fox den. Levi could charm the birds from the trees. And Jason had a blacksmith’s shoulders and a father with more farms than he had sons.

“She’s not spoken for yet,” Sara said. “But I’m certain it won’t be long before we’ll all be invited to her wedding.”

Ruby blushed prettily.

Then Sara added icing to the cake by saying, “Our Joseph is looking for a bride. He’s a master mason, and is a credit to his mother and community.”

“Is your father living?” Ruby asked. “Ach, maybe I shouldn’t have asked that. I have a wonderful father.” Without taking a breath, she switched from smooth and perfect English to Deitsch. “He’s so good to me. And he loves to laugh. Everyone says I look like my mother but I’m most like my father. I hope that if I do find someone to wed, we won’t live far from my parents. I’m devoted to them.”

She paused and looked at him expectantly. What was he supposed to say?

“Joseph’s father died when he was very young,” Sara said. She reached into her bag and pulled out a Christian romance novel. “I hope the two of you won’t mind, but I’m dying to see what happens in my book.”

“Do you like to read?” Ruby asked Joseph as Sara settled in her chair.

He nodded. Instantly, his head began to throb again and it was all he could do not to reach up to touch the towel. But he didn’t want her to think he was a complainer or that he wasn’t tough.

“Don’t move,” Ruby cautioned, brushing her hand against his wet sleeve. “I don’t want you to start bleeding again. I feel so terrible that you were hurt. And I’m entirely to blame. I’m such a klutz. You may as well know it. I’ve always been a klutz.”

“I read,” he managed. “The Bible. And The Budget.”

“Your injury will probably be written up in The Budget. I hope no one mentions my name. It’s so embarrassing. And you’ll probably miss work. Will your boss be angry with you?”

“Ne. I...I’m sort of an independent contractor.”

“You are? That’s wonderful.” She clasped her hands together. They were nice hands. “What kind of masonry do you do? Bricklaying? Stonework? Cement?”

“Ya. All.”

“And you’re a master mason already? You must do fine work.”

“I try.”

She smiled at him. “Listen to me. When I’m nervous, I talk too much.” She chuckled. “Truth is, I always talk too much. Are you thirsty? Hungry? There are vending machines over there. The least I can do is to buy you a drink. Wait, I’ll go see what they have.” She got up, taking her purse with her, and threaded her way through the waiting people to the corner.

Sara glanced at him. The corners of her mouth were drawn up in a “cat that swallowed the cream” hint of a smile. “Ruby talks a lot, doesn’t she?”

“Not too much,” Joseph defended, watching Ruby. “Just the right amount, I think.”

Ruby returned. “They have Coke, orange, lemon-lime and root beer. Then there’s bottled water and iced tea in a can. What would you like?”

Joseph reached for his wallet.

“Ne,” Ruby said firmly, patting her purse. “This is my treat. I insist.”

“All right.” Feeling bold, he returned her smile and said, “Next time, I pay.”

“But what would you like?” she asked.

“Soda is good.”

“But what kind?”

He shrugged. “Anything wet.”

She giggled. “Ne, you have to tell me what you like best.”

“R-root beer,” he managed. “I like root beer.”

The smile spread across her face, making her even more beautiful. “Me too. I love it. My daddi says that I like it too well. It’s not good for my teeth. But I drink it anyway.”

Her teeth looked fine to him. White and even and sparkling.

“And now you get to choose a snack. Pretzels. Chips. Candy. Or peanut butter crackers.”

“Crackers,” he said. “I like...crackers.”

“Me too.” She laughed, looking down at him like he was the cleverest man she had ever met. “Isn’t that funny? We both like the same treats. Sara, I’m not forgetting you. What would you like?”

Sara glanced up from her book. “I’m fine. Too many treats and I’ll grow out of my clothes. You young people enjoy your snacks.”

“If you’re sure,” Ruby said, turning back to Joseph. “I’ll be right back with your soda and crackers.”

As she walked away, he noticed that she was wearing a green dress. He liked green. He smiled to himself as he watched her. His head hurt and he was still feeling a little dazed, but it didn’t matter because this was turning out to be the best day of his life.


Chapter Two (#u11ccd54d-f96b-56f9-98b3-f69668d76425)

Joseph pushed back his plate. He’d eaten only a few bites of potato salad and nibbled at a fried chicken leg. The truth was the back of his head where he’d gotten the stitches stung and he didn’t have much of an appetite. And he had more on his mind than eating.

“Joseph, you’ve barely put a thing in your mouth.” His mother’s delicate forehead wrinkled with concern. “I knew you should have stayed in bed this morning. Does your head hurt? Are you dizzy?” She fluttered her hands helplessly over her plate. For a small woman, Joseph was always amazed at how much his mother could eat and never gain an extra pound.

He forced a smile and took a sip of the glass of buttermilk next to his plate. Normally, he loved buttermilk, but today, it tasted flat on his tongue. “Now, don’t fuss. A few stitches. Nothing for you to worry yourself over.”

His mother rose, came around the table and pressed a cool palm to his forehead. “You feel a little warm to me. You might be running a fever.”

“Ne, no fever,” he protested. “It’s a hot day. Near ninety, I’d guess. And you’ve made enough food for two families.” It was stifling there in the kitchen. All the windows were open, but no breeze stirred the plain white curtains. It made a man think longingly of cool autumn mornings.

His mother, Magdalena, nibbled at her lower lip. “It wouldn’t hurt for you to go back to the doctor.”

Joseph raised a hand in protest. “Mother, ne, really. There’s no need for you to be concerned. I slipped in the mud and knocked my head. It’s nothing. I’ve had far worse. Remember when I fell out of the hayloft?”

“And landed in the pile of manure your father had just forked out of the cow stall,” she finished for him with a chuckle. “At least you had no stitches then.”

“No stitches, but I broke my arm in two places.”

“We felt so awful.” She shook her head ruefully. “My only kinder, my precious seven-year-old son in so much pain. We rushed you to the hospital and there you were all covered in muck and stinking like an outhouse with all them Englishers staring at us. Such a bad mother, they must have thought, to have no care for her child.”

They traded smiles at the shared memory. He’d long ago forgotten the hurt of the broken arm. What he remembered was that he’d gone all that summer unable to swim in the pond with his friends, and that his father and mother had churned ice cream for him every Saturday. He wiped his eyes with the napkin, rubbing away the tears of laughter and maybe something more. That summer and the taste of that sweet ice cream on his tongue were some of the last memories he had of his father. His dat had been killed in a farming accident that September.

His mother was still hovering, something she had a tendency to do. “Maybe you could manage a slice of pie?” she coaxed. “Peach. Your favorite. I made it especially for you.”

Which was what she said of most meals... “Save it all for supper tonight,” Joseph answered. “I’ve got an errand to run this afternoon, and I’ll be sure to be hungry later. We’ll have everything cold, and you won’t even have to heat up the kitchen by turning on the stove.” His mother pursed her lips and began clearing away the dishes. Her silence and the pained expression on her face was an obvious sign of her disapproval.

“Can I help you clean up?” he offered.

She shook her head. “This is my job, Joseph. It’s the least I can do, being a widow and dependent on your charity.”

Joseph bit back the retort that this house was hers as long as she lived and he loved her and would never consider her a burden. He’d said that many times before. Instead, he rose to put the milk and chicken into the refrigerator.

Theirs was a small kitchen for an Amish house, but it provided everything his mother needed to cook and preserve food from her garden. He’d worked hard since he was fifteen to provide for the two of them, and his mam had done her share by keeping their home as shiny as a new penny. The Bible said to honor your mother and father, and he tried to always remember that when she was being difficult.

There’d never been any doubt in Joseph’s mind that she loved him and wanted what was best for him. Twice she could have remarried, but both times she’d refused, even though both prospective husbands could have given her a more spacious home and an easier life. “A stepfather might be harsh on you,” she’d said. “And your needs might be lost in a large family of stepbrothers and stepsisters. We’re better on our own.”

Joseph smiled at her as he crossed the room to take his hat from the peg near the door. It fit a little snug because the emergency room doctor had shaved the back of his head and covered the six stitches with a thick bandage. But he could hardly show up at the matchmaker’s without his head covered. It wouldn’t be proper.

“Where are you going?” His mother removed the plate of chicken from the refrigerator where he’d just put it and covered it with a clean length of cheesecloth before placing it back in the refrigerator. “I think you’d best put your errand off for a few days,” she said. “No need for you to go out in this afternoon heat.”

“I’ll be fine,” Joseph assured her. “I won’t be long.”

“Where did you say you were going?” She dropped her hands to her hips and tilted her head in that way she always did that reminded him of a curious little wren. Her bright blue eyes narrowed. “Joseph?”

“I didn’t say.” He opened the back door. “I’ll be back in plenty of time to milk the cow before supper.”

“But Joseph—”

He closed the door behind him and kept walking. He loved his mother dearly, but if he let her have her way, she’d treat him as though he was twelve years old and not in his late twenties. He was blessed to have a mother who loved him so much, but she had a strong will, and it was sometimes a struggle as to who was the head of their house. She was sensitive, and if he was too firm with her, she’d dissolve in tears. He couldn’t stand the idea of making his mother cry and he felt relieved that she hadn’t wept when he hadn’t done what she’d wanted and stayed home.

Turning to a matchmaker to find him a wife had been his mother’s idea, and after hearing her talk about it for nearly two years, he’d weakened and agreed to let Sara Yoder see if she would have more success than he had on his own. He’d been reluctant and more than a little nervous because he’d always been tongue-tied around young women. He’d never imagined that he’d meet anyone like Ruby so quickly or in such an unusual way.

Whistling, Joseph descended the porch steps. Glancing back over his shoulder, he caught a glimpse of white curtain moving at a window. As he’d suspected, his mother was watching him. He strode around the house to his mother’s flowerbed, out of her sight, and quickly picked a bouquet of colorful blooms. A girl like Ruby probably had lots of fellows saying sweet stuff to her, but girls liked flowers. Maybe they could speak for him.

Everyone talked about his mother’s skill at growing flowers. She had beds of them that brightened the front yard and clustered around the house. She rarely cut them for the house, but from early spring to late autumn she had beautiful bouquets to sell at Spence’s Auction. He didn’t claim to know much about them other than to turn over the soil when she asked him or to fertilize and weed the beds, but he’d seen her create enough bouquets to know what flowers went with each other. For Ruby, he chose a rainbow of cosmos, sweet peas, zinnias and asters. He cradled the stems in peat moss and wrapped them in green florist’s paper just as he’d seen his mother do for her stand at Spence’s Market. He still had the headache, but he was whistling as he hitched up his driving horse to the cart.

All the way to Sara’s house, Joseph tried to think of something sensible to say to Ruby when he gave her the flowers. He even practiced saying the words aloud. It wasn’t difficult to be clever when there was no one to hear him but the horse. Should he speak to her in Deitsch or English? She’d told him that she was from Pennsylvania. Those Amish up there were less conservative. Maybe she’d think he was old-fashioned if he spoke Deitsch. So English. But what did he say?

“A little something to welcome you to Seven Poplars.” That was good, but should it be “welcome you” or “welcome you”? What word should he emphasize? Or maybe that would sound too put-on. They’d talked a lot in the urgent care waiting room. If he welcomed her, it might appear that he was acting like she was just another of Sara’s clients and she wasn’t special.

Joseph’s stomach flip-flopped. He felt a little light-headed. His head still hurt, but he didn’t think that was the cause of his distress. The truth was, he was scared. His mouth was dry and it was hard to think straight. He’d always heard of love striking a man like lightning cutting down a tree, but he’d never believed it until now. Ruby Plank falling into his arms was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to him and he didn’t want to mess it up.

The trouble was, when it came to girls, he always did. And he was terrified that this time would be no different. Joseph was still going over and over in his mind what he would say as he approached Sara Yoder’s back door. The yard had been quiet, without anyone in sight, and he couldn’t hear any talking from inside. Sara’s house was usually bustling with young people coming and going, but today he didn’t see so much as a dragonfly hovering over the flowerbeds along the drive. What if he’d come to find that some other fellow had taken Ruby buggy riding? Or worse, what if she’d changed her mind about making a match after yesterday’s disaster and returned to Pennsylvania?

Gathering his courage, he knocked on the wooden screen door. No one appeared, so he knocked again, and then called out in Deitsch. “Hello? Is anybody to home?” Again, there was only silence except for a bee that had gotten trapped on the screen porch and was buzzing loudly as it attempted to escape.

Joseph’s stomach turned over. Now his head was really hurting. He was hot and sweaty, and he’d crossed his mother and come here hoping to see Ruby again. All for nothing. But he wasn’t ready to give up yet. Maybe they were in the garden and hadn’t heard him. He left the porch and circled around the house. In the side yard, farthest from the drive, was a wooden swing, a brick walk, a fishpond and a fountain. “Hello?” he called again.

And then he stopped short. There was a blanket spread on the clover near the tiny pond. A young woman lay stretched out on her stomach, bare ankles crossed, apparently lost in a book. But the most startling thing to Joseph was her hair. Among the Amish, a woman’s hair was always covered. Little girls wore pigtails with baby caps or student kapps. Teenage girls and women of all ages pinned their hair up in a bun and covered it with a scarf or a prayer kapp.

This woman was clearly Amish because she wore a sky blue dress with a dark apron over it. Black leather shoes stood beside the blanket with black stockings tossed beside them. But the woman’s hair wasn’t pinned up under a kapp or covered with a scarf. It rippled in a thick shimmering mane down the back of her neck and over her shoulders nearly to her waist.

Joseph’s mouth gaped. He clutched the bouquet of flowers so tightly between his hands that he distinctly heard several stems snap. He swallowed, unable to stop staring at her beautiful hair. It was brown, but brown in so many shades...tawny and russet...the color of shiny acorns in winter and the hue of ripe wheat. He knew he shouldn’t be staring. He’d intruded on a private moment, seen what he shouldn’t. He should turn and walk away. But he couldn’t.

He inhaled deeply. “Hello,” he stammered. “I’m sorry, I was looking for—”

“Ach!” The young woman rose on one elbow and twisted to face him. It was Ruby. Her eyes widened in surprise. “Joseph?”

“Ya. It’s me.” He struggled to think of something else sensible to say.

Ruby sat up, dropping her paperback onto the blanket, pulling her knees up and tucking her feet under her skirt. “I was drying my hair,” she said. “I washed it. I still had mud in it from last night.”

Joseph grimaced. “Sorry.”

“Ne.” She shook her head. “It was all my fault.”

“An accident,” he said.

“And you had to get stitches. Are you in pain?”

He shook his head.

“Goot. I was worried about you.”

He tried not to smile, but the thought that she’d worried about him filled him with hope.

“Everyone else went to Byler’s store.” She blushed prettily and covered her face with her hands. “But I stayed home. To wash my hair. What must you think of me without my kapp?” Her words were apologetic, but her tone was mischievous, rather than guilty. Dropping her hands, she chuckled.

She had a merry laugh, Joseph thought, a laugh as beautiful and unique as she was. She was regarding him with definite interest. Her eyes were the shade of cinnamon splashed with swirls of chocolate, large and thickly lashed. His mouth went dry.

She smiled encouragingly.

He shrugged. A dozen thoughts tumbled in his mind: he could comment about the color of her dress or ask her what she was reading or say something about the weather, but nothing seemed like the right thing to say. “I...I never know what to say to pretty girls,” he admitted as he tore his gaze away from hers. “You must think I’m thickheaded.” He shuffled his feet. “I’ll come back another time when—”

“Who are those flowers for?” Ruby asked. “Did you bring them for Sara?”

“Ne, not Sara.” Joseph’s face grew hot. He tried to say “I brought them for you,” but again the words stuck in his throat. Dumbly, he held them out to her. Several of the asters in the bouquet had broken stems and they hung down awkwardly. It took every ounce of his courage not to turn and run.

She scrambled to her feet, her smile as sweet as sunrise on a winter day, her beautiful eyes sparkling with pleasure. “Danki,” she said as she reached for the bouquet. “I love flowers. Nobody ever brought me flowers before.” She clutched them to her. “I think they’re wonderful.”

For a long moment, they stood staring at each other. Ruby’s hair tumbled down around her shoulders, still damp from the washing, the thick locks gleaming in the sunlight. Her hair looked so soft that he wanted to touch it, to feel the curls spring between his fingers.

Joseph stepped back another step and sucked in a breath of air. They were practically strangers. He shouldn’t be here with her without a chaperone. He shouldn’t be looking at her unbound hair. It was scandalous. If anyone found out, there would be talk. He couldn’t do that to Ruby. “I g-guess I should go,” he blurted. “I shouldn’t... We shouldn’t—”

“Ne,” she said. “Don’t go yet. Wait here. No, sit there.” She waved toward the wooden swing. It was fashioned of cedar, suspended on a sturdy frame and shaded by a latticework canopy. “Where it’s cooler. Wait there. I’ll be right back.” She ran several yards, then turned and ran back. “Stay right there,” she repeated before grabbing up everything in the blanket and dashing around the house.

Stunned, Joseph did as she said. Truthfully, it was good to get off his feet and when he gave a small push, the motion of the swing eased the tension in his neck and shoulders. What had he been thinking to come here this afternoon? To bring flowers for Ruby? But he’d had to come. He couldn’t get her off his mind. But he’d never expected her to be so sweet. He closed his eyes and thought about how pretty her unbound hair was.

* * *

Ruby slammed the kitchen door shut behind her. “Ya!” she exclaimed joyfully. “Ya!” Laughing, she spun around in a circle and buried her face in the flowers. Joseph had come back! She’d been certain that knocking him nearly senseless and sending him to the hospital had ruined any chance she might have had of attracting the respectable young mason. But, in spite of her clumsiness, he’d returned and brought her flowers. It was almost too good to be true. She couldn’t wait to tell her mother.

But Joseph had caught her in the yard, sprawled out on a blanket with her hair wet and hanging instead of being decently covered with her kapp, she reminded herself. He’d been shocked. Probably he’d come in search of one of the other girls and only given her the flowers to be kind. But he was kind. And not only good-looking, but sweet natured and clearly in search of a wife. She didn’t dare let herself hope that he might choose her, but neither could she throw away any opportunity she might have.

Her mother’s words of advice came to her as clearly as if her mommi were here in this room with her. You will find someone who will see your inner beauty, Ruby. And he will be the one who deserves you.

Coming to Sara Yoder’s and asking the matchmaker to find her a husband had been an act of desperation. Her parents had believed that the only way for her to find someone was to go to a place where no one knew her. And now Joseph had fallen into her lap. Or, rather, she’d fallen into his. She couldn’t let him slip through her fingers. He might not be someone that she wanted to marry, but she couldn’t know that until they were better acquainted.

Dropping the flowers into the sink, she searched for a container to put them in. Spying an old blue-and-white-speckled bowl and pitcher on a table in the adjoining room, she snatched up the pitcher, dumped the flowers in and filled the pitcher half-full of water. She left the arrangement on the counter and ran upstairs to her bedroom to make herself decent.

Grabbing a brush, she raked it though her damp hair, twisted the mass into a knot and pinned it securely at the back of her head. She snatched up her kapp and took the stairs to the first floor two at a time. What if Joseph hadn’t stayed in the yard? What if he’d examined the book she’d been reading and discovered that it was one of Sara’s romance novels? Would he think she was flighty?

Breathlessly, she filled glasses with ice and lemonade and hurried back outside. “Let him still be here,” she whispered. “Please let him be here.” She felt as though she’d swallowed a double handful of goose feathers. She liked Joseph; she really did. And she wanted him to like her. She stopped short, seeing the empty swing. Her heart sank and her knees went weak.

And then she saw him on his knees beside the fishpond. “Joseph!” she called too loudly. She gave him her best smile as she hurried toward him.

“Ruby.” He rose and stepped back from the lip of the pool. “Her fish are getting big,” he said. “I saw an orange-and-black one.” Joseph’s hat was crooked, and she could see that it was too tight due to the bulky bandage.

“I brought you a drink,” she said. “It’s hot out here. I hope you like lemonade.”

Joseph nodded. “Ya, I do.” His lips curved in a tentative smile.

She’d been with him all evening, here at the house and at the hospital, but she hadn’t really gotten a good look at him. She’d remembered his amazing eyes, but memory wasn’t as good as looking at him here in full daylight. They were as blue as cornflowers, intelligent, and they inspired trust. They were Deitsch blue eyes that seemed lit from within. He wasn’t a huge man, but neither was he small. He was exactly the right size, she decided, tall enough without being gangly, and broad at the shoulders without appearing muscle-bound. Joseph’s nose was straight and well formed, and he had a smattering of freckles across his rosy cheeks.

Was this the man her mother promised her would come?

Joseph reached for the glass.

Suddenly, she was aware that she’d been staring at him, lost in her own thoughts while he was waiting for his cold drink. She shoved the lemonade at him with too much force. As his hand closed around the glass, ice and liquid splashed across the front of his shirt.

“Ne!” she protested. “I’m so sorry.”

Joseph looked down at his shirt and laughed. “That’s one way to cool me off.”

“It’s all my fault,” she said. “I’m such a klutz.”

“My fault. I was looking at you and not the glass.”

Ruby shook her head. She felt sick. “You might as well know I always trip or drop or knock over things. I always have. When I was in school, the teacher called me stumble-bumble. I never got to write on the blackboard because I either snapped off the chalk or dropped the eraser and then kicked it when I leaned over to pick it up or—” She gestured, showing him the hopelessness of the situation.

“Yeah, well...did you ever get up in front of the whole school and the parents and...and...not be able to say your own name?” Joseph asked.

“You didn’t,” she exclaimed.

“I...I did.” He paused and then went on. “It was our Christmas party. I was supposed to recite a poem. It was short, just six lines. But I couldn’t get past my name. I just stood there like a block of wood with my mouth open, trying not to cry.”

Ruby pressed her lips together. “I know what you mean. It’s bad when I tip over the milk bucket or catch my apron in the barn door, but it’s worse when people are watching.”

He shook his head. “Anyone can have an accident.”

“But I make a regular habit of it.”

“Then I’d best take that other glass before you dump it over my head,” he teased.

For an instant, she thought he was mocking her, but when she saw the expression on his face, she was certain she’d made a friend. She gave him her lemonade and followed him sheepishly to the swing.

“You...you sit first,” Joseph said.

She could feel herself blushing, but she didn’t feel as though she was going to throw up anymore. She felt happy. She’d sent him to the hospital with a broken head and she’d tried to drown him in lemonade, and he didn’t seem to care. He was smiling at her the way she’d seen other boys smile at the girls they wanted to drive home from singings.

“Admit it,” he said. “You’ve never been at a loss for words.”

Ruby shook her head as he handed her lemonade to her. “Words I have aplenty,” she said. “Too many according to some people. My grandfather used to say that I talked faster than a horse could trot.” She sighed. “I’ve tried to stop and think before I speak, but the words bubble up inside me, and when I open my mouth they fly out.”

“I don’t think you talk too much,” Joseph pronounced solemnly. “I like to hear you talk.” He chuckled. “It keeps me from having to try and keep up my end of the conversation.”

She gazed down at her drink and considered what he’d just said. She took a sip of the lemonade. It was a little tart.

Joseph took a seat beside her. There was a gap between them, not too much, and not too little. They were far enough apart to satisfy propriety. “I have more work than I can do,” he said. “Bricklaying. Cement. Fireplaces.”

She held her breath.

“I asked Sara to try to find me a wife.”

Ruby’s heartbeat quickened.

“And...and I know that’s why you’re staying with Sara.” He met her gaze. “To...to find a husband, I mean, not to find a wife.”

She smiled at him, thinking he was the cutest thing she’d ever seen.

“If you don’t have anyone either, maybe—” he swallowed, and his fingers tightened on the glass “—I thought... I mean... I hoped we...”

“Could see if we suit each other?” she finished for him.

Joseph nodded eagerly.

“I’d like that,” she said. “I’d like that very much.”

“Me too,” he agreed. He looked down. “But...I suppose I... It’s only fair I should tell you I...I have a good trade and I work hard, but I’m far from well-off. And...and you should know that I have a widowed mother that I’m responsible for.” He spread his hands. “I’m a plain...plain man, Ruby. If that’s not what you’re looking for...”

She clapped her hands together and smiled at him. “That’s exactly what I’m looking for, Joseph Brenneman. I think we’ll suit each other very well.”


Chapter Three (#u11ccd54d-f96b-56f9-98b3-f69668d76425)

“It...it’s early. I...I know,” Joseph said, hat in hand at Sara’s back door. It was Wednesday morning, and he was starting a foundation for the Moses King family’s addition today. He had a lot of work to do. But he couldn’t wait any longer to speak to the matchmaker. “Could I? That is...is...” As usual, the words he wanted to say caught in his throat, choking him. He could feel his face growing hot. Sara would think him a fool. Maybe she was right.

Sara stepped out onto the porch in her bare feet. She was a round, tidy woman with crinkly dark hair, and dark eyes that seemed to bore through him. “Ruby isn’t here,” she said. “She went off with Ellie to the schoolhouse. Ellie’s our teacher. Today is their first day, and Ruby offered to give her a hand getting the first graders settled in.”

“Didn’t come to—” He broke off when he realized that he was practically shouting at Sara in an effort to get the words out. “Came to see you.” The last bit came in a rush, like shelled peas popping out of a shell all at once. He groaned inwardly. Why was this so hard? Words rolled off his cousin Andy’s tongue so easily. Tyler never seemed to have trouble talking to women. Joseph took a deep breath. “I want...” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Ruby. Make a match. You. With us.”

Sara’s shrewd face softened. “This sounds serious, Joseph. Maybe you’d best come to my office. I don’t like to discuss business in front of other people. I like to keep things confidential until matches are formally announced. To give everyone privacy.”

Joseph nodded and tugged on the brim of his straw work hat. He’d shaved and showered that morning. It was important to look his best. He might sound like a hayseed, but there was no need to look like one. He’d even worn a new shirt his mother just made him, but he had an old one in the buggy that he could change into when he got to the King house. If he ruined this one with concrete, his mother would not be happy, and when she wasn’t happy, home could be an unpleasant place. But the shirt didn’t matter now. It was what he had to get straight with Sara.

“Ruby,” he blurted. Her name came out in a whisper, which he corrected in a deep and more insistent tone. “Ruby. I...I want to talk to you about...” He looked down at his boots. “Her,” he finished in a rush of breath.

When he looked up, a hint of a smile lit Sara’s almond-shaped eyes, but her mouth remained firm. After a second’s hesitation, she held open the door and motioned him into the kitchen.

A tall girl in a lilac dress was washing dishes at the sink while an even prettier one dried. The tall one turned to smile at him. “Arlene,” Sara said, “This is Joseph Brenneman. Leah, I think you know each other.”

“Hello, Joseph,” Leah said. “It’s good to see you again.” And then to Arlene, “Joseph’s from another church district, but we used to see each other at auctions and work frolics.”

Arlene nodded. Smiled.

“Ya.” Joseph’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. Leah had once hit a home run when he was pitching at an interschool game. She’d married a Mennonite and gone to South America to be a missionary. He’d died and now Leah had come back to Seven Poplars; she was staying with the matchmaker. Leah had always been known as the beauty of the county and she’d been nice too. But he’d never been drawn to her, not even as a boy still wet behind the ears. “Ruby,” he managed. “I...came for Ruby. About Ruby,” he corrected. “A match...with Ruby. Maybe,” he added. “I hope,” he clarified.

Arlene chuckled. “I see,” she replied in Deitsch.

She wore a different-style kapp than Leah and the other local girls, a shape of prayer covering Joseph wasn’t familiar with. Ruby did too, but hers wasn’t like Arlene’s. Ruby’s was heart shaped. He decided that he liked Ruby’s kapp better.

Thankfully, Sara rescued him from having to say anything else by leading him through the kitchen to her office. Sara gestured to a chair in front of and facing a desk. She closed the door and took a seat behind the desk. The desktop was empty except for a spiral notebook and a black pen.

Joseph leaned forward in his chair. The windows were open, but with the door closed there wasn’t any breeze and it was warm in here. Unconsciously, he ran a finger under his collar. Sara was just sitting there, looking at him. He couldn’t have been more uncomfortable if she’d caught him chopping wood without his shirt. “I want...want to court Ruby,” he declared bluntly.

“So I gather.” Sara sat back and smiled. “This is a little sudden, don’t you think? You’ve known each other, what? Three days? And that’s including today, and I don’t think you’ve even seen her today.” Her eyes sparkled with amusement rather than disapproval.

Joseph shifted in his chair. It was straight backed, oak and had probably been made at the chair shop not half a mile away. His mouth felt dry and he was slightly light-headed. “Ya, but...” He exhaled. But what? How did he explain to Sara that how long they’d known each other had nothing to do with anything? That he’d known the moment he’d opened his eyes, lying flat out in Sara’s driveway, that Ruby was the girl for him.

Sara’s chuckle became a full-throated laugh. It was a jolly laugh for a woman and it came up from deep in her chest and bubbled out with genuine mirth.

Joseph stood up. He wasn’t going to sit here and be laughed at.

“Sit down, sit down,” Sara insisted, waving her hand at him. “I wasn’t laughing at you. I was surprised. But in a good way, Joseph. I’m just not used to young men being in such a hurry.” She laced her fingers together, leaned forward and rested her hands on the desktop. “Don’t you want to get to know Ruby a little before you start talking about marriage?”

“Ne.” He shook his head, settling in the chair again. “She’s the one. For me.” He forced himself to meet Sara’s piercing gaze. “I like Ruby.”

“You’ve made that clear.” Sara’s attitude grew kindly as she slipped on a pair of wire-frame glasses she’d retrieved from her apron pocket. “And it’s clear that you’re uncomfortable here with me. I’m sorry for that. I hope you can come to think of me as a friend, maybe a favorite aunt. I like you, Joseph. You appear to be a fine man and an excellent candidate for one of my brides-to-be. You’re just the sort of man I like to find, someone who isn’t wishy-washy, someone who knows his own mind.” She paused and opened her notebook. She thumbed through until she’d reached a page about halfway through and picked up her pen. She jotted something down and then made eye contact with him again. “Sorry. I have a system, and if I don’t keep to it, I’d forget who was who.”

“Ruby’s not spoken for, is she?” That was the question he’d been dreading to ask. He knew he’d asked Sara that before, but he was afraid that someone had snapped her up since then. Because if there were another suitor, there’d be a whole lot more trouble before things could get worked out. He wasn’t going to give up. Sara had promised she could find him a wife; he just had to make her understand that Ruby was the one for him.

“Well...” Sara tapped her notebook with her pen. “I’d planned to introduce her to a blacksmith.” She looked up. “And I’d wanted you to get to know Arlene. I think you’d be very compatible. But if you’ve seen Ruby and you’re taken with her, there’s no reason why the two of you shouldn’t—”

“Then you have no problem matching us?”

Sara separated her hands and raised them, palms forward. “Now, just slow down, Joseph. It’s customary for my couples to take this one step at a time—get to know each other before a match is actually made. Usually couples attend some singings together, have meals here at the house and see each other at church. Picking a wife or a husband is a serious matter.”

He dropped his straw hat onto his knee and balled his hands into fists. They seemed clumsy, like two clubs rather than hands and he tucked them under his knees. His right foot wanted to bounce on his heel like he did when he was nervous but he forced it firmly to the floor and held it there by force of will. He was sweating. He could feel tiny beads of moisture trickling down the back of his shirt. Sara was looking at him expectantly. She was waiting for him to respond. “I...I know it’s a serious matter. I told you when I first came to you that...that I was serious about finding a wife. And I’m ready. Ruby and me... Ruby and I,” he corrected. “We’ve talked and we both want to court. Each other.”

Sara raised an eyebrow speculatively. “Ruby told you that she’s interested in courting you?”

“Ya, she did. She and I... We...we agreed.”

Sara sat back in her chair. It was an oversize office chair, crafted of oak and comfortably cushioned. The chair swiveled and rocked. It was a chair that Joseph had seen at the chair shop and greatly admired, but it was big for a woman of Sara’s size. She resembled a great-aunt of his, someone who’d always sneaked him cookies when he was a child. The thought of Aunt Rose made it feel a little easier talking to Sara.

Her smile widened. “Your mother said you were shy and that you had a difficult time expressing yourself. That doesn’t seem to be the case at all. I’m impressed. And frankly, young men rarely impress me.”

“I can support her... Support Ruby. And my mother. Mother has to live with us. But I told Ruby, and she’s fine with it. As a mason...a master mason, I can always get work. I’m working with James now. His construction company, I mean. He says he’s got plenty of work for me. And...and I have a house. In my own name.”

Sara wrote something in her notebook. “It’s good to know that you are financially solvent. That you can take on the responsibility of a household as a husband and father, if God blesses you and your future wife with children.”

“I will. I mean...I expect to.” He could feel perspiration trickle down his back. He needed to hurry this along, otherwise he’d be late to the job site and James would be disappointed. He liked to start on time. But this had to be settled first with Sara. About Ruby. He’d lain awake half the night worrying. He couldn’t do that again. He realized that Sara was saying something about a dowry and he jerked upright, giving her his attention again.

“Do you mind?” she said.

“M-mind what?”

“Financial wealth of a girl’s father.” She peered over her glasses at him. “Is that something that’s important to you?”

“Ne.” He shook his head. “I don’t care. Money...money isn’t important to me. I mean...it is, but I don’t expect... It doesn’t matter. Ruby could be penniless. It’s fine.” He took a breath. “So, are we courting? Officially?”

“Ne. You are not. Not yet. It’s simply not the way I operate,” Sara said firmly. “I’m happy that you’re committed, but I’ve had a lot of experience with matching couples. Often young people form attractions, infatuations, if you will. But marriages, good marriages are not built on infatuation. There has to be more, things like mutual respect, compatibility and an equal commitment to faith. Think of it as laying a foundation.” She indicated him with her hand. “You’re a mason. You understand the need for a solid foundation.”

“A house won’t stand without it.”

“Exactly. And for an Amish couple, the foundation is even more important. We marry for life. There’s no divorce. Whoever you choose and whoever chooses you, chooses until death parts you.”

“I—” A knock at the door interrupted what he was going to say.

“Ya?” Sara asked.

The office door opened and a man in a patched blue shirt and raggedy straw hat in his hand peered in. “Mule’s thrown a shoe,” he said. “What do you want me to do?”

“Take him to the smithy, Hiram. A mule can’t work with three feet, can he?”

The door opened wider and Hiram stepped through. He was the man that Joseph had seen unloading a bag of feed from a wagon when he’d driven into Sara’s yard. “Planning on cutting hay in that little field.”

“Then it will have to wait. Tend to the mule first.”

Hiram scratched his head. “Thought you’d say that.”

“I’m in the middle of an appointment,” Sara explained. “Close the door behind you.”

“What do I do for money?” Hiram asked.

“The blacksmith will send me a bill.” She raised a hand and waved at him. “Goodbye, Hiram. Thank you.”

Hiram grimaced. “Leah said don’t bother you. You got somebody in the office.”

“That’s right,” Sara said. “When I’m with someone, I don’t like interruptions unless it’s important. Extremely important.”

“But the mule threw a shoe,” he said doggedly.

She smiled. Her tone was kind when she spoke. “And I trust you to take the mule to the smithy and have a new shoe put on.”

Muttering to himself, Hiram backed out of the room and pulled the door shut behind him.

“My hired man,” Sara explained. “I’m sorry. You were saying?”

Joseph stared at the toes of his work boots. “I was saying that I...that I think we’re compatible. Very...compatible. Ruby, she...she’s kind. She cares about people. I always wanted a kind wife, somebody who...would love me.” The last three words came out as a whisper. It wasn’t that the idea of love that embarrassed him, only saying it out loud. Because he did want a woman who would love him, someone he could love. Not just like. Once, when he was rumspringa, his running-around time before he’d been baptized, he’d seen a romantic movie at an Englisher’s house about a man and woman who were in love, and a message one of them had written and put in a bottle. The movie had been sad. It had made him tear up. But it had been a notion he’d remembered. He didn’t think his mother and father had loved each other like that. Was it greedy to want it for himself?

“Marriage isn’t just about a man and a woman,” Sara was saying.

He wondered if she’d heard what he’d said. What he meant about wanting romantic love in his marriage.

“Marriage is about family,” she continued. “Family and faith, respect and friendship.”

“And love?” he asked, daring to repeat himself and reveal his inner hope.

“Sometimes a couple will be fortunate enough to find love ahead of the marriage, but usually it comes later. That said—” she held up her finger “—there’s nothing wrong with searching for love. At least I don’t think so. But to get back to you and Ruby, we have to go slowly.”

He fiddled with the brim of his hat. “And what if we don’t want that? Ruby and I?”

“I insist. Who is the expert here, Joseph? There’s a lot to consider. In your case, one issue is your mother. What do you think she would say if you rushed into an arrangement and started talking about marriage to a girl you haven’t even walked out with?”

“I don’t suppose she’d like that.” He looked down and then back at Sara. “But Mother wants me to marry. She’s the one who told me to come to you. She said I’d never find someone on my own.”

Sara got up and came around the desk to stand only a few feet from him. Hastily, he got to his feet again.

“I’m sure Magdalena wants the best for you,” Sara said. “But it’s never easy for a woman to welcome another woman into her home. To give up her son to a wife.”

“She’ll have to accept Ruby. I can deal with my mam.” He shuffled his feet. “But what if we want to marry and you don’t agree? Do you have to approve of the match?”

Sara straightened her shoulders. “I can tell you that I once stopped a wedding on the morning of the marriage. I told the bishop and the elders that the couple was not right for each other. They called off the wedding.”

“What did the couple do? Were they unhappy with you?”

“They were. At the time. But a few months proved that I was right. I told you—I know what I’m doing. I don’t make careless matches. I make marriages that are strong and loving, marriages that will only grow stronger through the years. Do this my way, Joseph, and you’ll never regret it.”

“I suppose you’re right,” he admitted. “But I really...like Ruby. And she likes me.” He considered for a moment and then asked. “What happened to the couple? Did...did they ever marry?”

Sara chuckled. “They did, but not to each other. The man married his almost bride’s older sister and the girl married his younger cousin. Both marriages that I arranged. And they have worked out beautifully. Between the four of them, they have nine children, and it’s only been seven years.”

He glanced longingly at the door. “So what happens next? With me and Ruby? About, you know...taking it slowly.”

“We’ll start with a simple supper. Tomorrow night. Be here at six thirty, and bring your appetite.”

“Mother will want to meet her. Can I bring her?”

Sara shook her head firmly. “Too soon. I’ll invite Magdalena when it’s the right time.” She glanced at the schoolhouse clock on the wall. “And now I suppose you want to get off to work.” She opened the door. “Have a good day, Joseph. And don’t be late for supper. I hate it when young men keep my girls waiting.”

Gratefully, he hurried out. He hadn’t gotten all he’d wanted, but neither had Sara rejected him. He wasn’t going to worry. Sara would see how perfect he and Ruby were for each other. He was certain of it. He couldn’t wait to see Ruby tomorrow night, and he couldn’t wait to tell his mother that he’d found the girl he’d been waiting for.

* * *

School was a half day, so Ellie and Ruby were back at Sara’s by twelve thirty. After the midday-meal dishes were cleared away and the kitchen spotless, the two young women went into the garden to pick tomatoes. Leah and Arlene had gone to Fifer’s Orchard to pick apples and Sara was catching up on her sewing.

Despite spending the morning together at the schoolhouse, Ruby was still shy around Ellie. The little schoolteacher seemed nice, like someone Ruby would like to have as a friend. But Ruby had never known someone with dwarfism before and was afraid that her habit of saying whatever popped into her head might cause a problem. She feared she’d blurt out something offensive that would ruin their prospective friendship.

At school, it had been easy to concentrate on the children and forget worrying about saying or doing something awkward. Children always had a positive effect on Ruby. She adored them, and they seemed to respond well to her. If things had been different at home, maybe she would have liked to have been a teacher herself.

The best way to keep from putting her foot in her mouth was to keep it closed, but being quiet never came easy to Ruby. So before she knew it, a question slipped out. “Why aren’t you married, Ellie?” She tried to stop herself but it was too late. There it was, bobbing between them as obviously inappropriate as a mule in a kitchen. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I didn’t mean—”

Ellie responded with a peal of laughter. “You mean why hasn’t Sara been able to find me a husband? My fault, entirely. I’m too picky. I’ve had two marriage proposals since I got here, and I turned them both down.”

Ruby plucked a tomato from a plant and carefully placed the fat tomato into the basket. If you bruised them, tomatoes could go soft before you could get them canned, and that would be a waste. “You did? Were the boys awful?”

Ellie tossed a rotten tomato into the space between the rows. “Ne, they were very nice. And one was very handsome.” She giggled. “He was the hardest to refuse because I really liked him.”

“But you didn’t want to marry him?”

“Nope. I’m not even sure I want to marry. Maybe I like being single.” Ellie ducked down behind a big tomato plant and all Ruby could see were the leaves shaking. “Ha. Thought you were hiding, didn’t you?” Ellie reappeared, brandishing a perfect tomato. “The heritage tomatoes are the hardest to pick because they’re not always that red color that gives them away. But they are delicious.”

“I know,” Ruby agreed. “I love them. They have more taste than the commercial varieties.” She stood to her full height and rubbed the small of her back. Picking tomatoes was hard work because of all the bending. “The boys you turned down,” she said. “Joseph Brenneman wasn’t one of them, was he?”

Ellie giggled again. “Ne, not Joseph. But he’s cute, don’t you think?”

“He is.” Ruby blushed and busied herself in searching for ripe tomatoes. “Was it awkward? Saying no?” she ventured after a few minutes of picking. “Refusing a man’s proposal?”

“Not particularly. Only one of them seemed to take it hard, but he’s found someone else, so I couldn’t have broken his heart.” At this, they both laughed together. As they reached the end of the row, Ellie brushed the dirt off her skirt, glanced up at Ruby and sighed. “My current problem is with a certain blacksmith that I know Sara would like to fix me up with.”

“You don’t like him?” Ruby furrowed her brow. “Or you don’t think he’d like you?”

Ellie shook her head. “It’s more complicated than that.” She lowered her voice and moved closer. “I know Sara means well, but he’s little.”

“Little?” Ruby asked.

“Like me,” Ellie said, throwing up her hands. “A little person. Jakob obviously likes me. But he’s a pest, always trying to wrangle an invitation to dinner or showing up at the schoolhouse with some excuse or another. He’s even trying to get my friends to put in a good word for him.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

Ellie picked a tomato up from the ground, examined it, and then threw it hard against a fence post. The rotten tomato burst, sending a red-winged blackbird skyward in a flurry of tomato bits. “I would never date someone just because he’s little like me.” She gave a little huff. “Right now, I don’t even want to think about it. I’m happily independent. I don’t want to marry anyone. I love teaching at Seven Poplars School. I’m having the best time of my life and I don’t have to do a man’s laundry. But if I do decide to marry, it will be because he’s the one and I can’t live without him. Does that make sense to you?”

“It does,” Ruby agreed. She wondered if Ellie might like this Jakob more than she let on or if it was smart to rule out a person just because of his height, but she didn’t say so. For once, she was able to keep her mouth shut.

“How are you two doing?” Sara called from the garden gate. “Finding many ripe ones?”

“Lots,” Ruby answered. “I need to start another basket. This one’s full.” She picked up the basket with the tomatoes she’d just picked, but when she turned to carry it down the row, she tripped. The basket tipped and half of them rolled out onto the dirt. “Sorry,” she said, making haste to recover the fallen tomatoes.

“Let me help.” Ellie began putting tomatoes back into the basket.

Ruby was mortified. “Sorry,” she mumbled again.

“Don’t worry.” Smiling, Sara walked toward them. “We’ll start another batch of canning tomorrow. It won’t matter if some of them are bruised.” She stopped and made eye contact with Ellie. “Ach. I forgot my soup on the stove. Ellie, would you mind running in and stirring it? Just turn off the flame.”

“I can do it,” Ruby offered.

“Ne, let Ellie go,” Sara said.

“But I don’t mind,” Ruby said, eager to help.

Ellie looked to her. “What Sara is trying to say politely is that she needs to speak to you alone.”

“Oh,” Ruby declared.

“It’s how it works when you live in a matchmaker’s house,” Ellie explained. “Watch out, Ruby, she’s about to have a serious conversation with you.” She giggled. “And unless I’m mistaken, it has to do with a certain bricklayer named Joseph.” As she walked out of the garden, Ellie called back over her shoulder. “Remember what I said about the laundry, Ruby. Don’t make any hasty decisions.”

Nervously, Ruby looked back at Sara. “You wanted to say something to me that you didn’t want Ellie to hear?”

Sara turned over an empty five-eighths basket and sat on it. She smiled at Ruby. “No need to fret. What I have to tell you isn’t bad news. Ne, not bad at all. You have an offer of marriage. Quickest ever, for me.” She shook her head in disbelief and folded her arms. “So fast and easy that I might not feel right collecting a fee for it.”

Excitement bubbled up inside Ruby. So Joseph really had spoken to Sara, just like he said he was going to. She didn’t know whether to jump with joy or drop to the ground in shock. She’d had offers before, but none she was so eager for. “Joseph?”

Sara rolled her eyes. “Of course, Joseph. What other available man has laid eyes on you since you arrived? Other than Hiram, and he doesn’t count.” She chuckled. “Well, he counts. He’s a sweet enough man under all that laziness, but he’s certainly no match for a young girl like you.”

Ruby shivered with delight. A young girl. The matchmaker had called her a girl. Sara knew she was twenty-five but didn’t consider her over-the-hill. It was probably pride that made her take pleasure in hearing it, but she did. “Joseph really wants to marry me?” she asked, still unable to believe her ears. “He wasn’t joking?”

“Not a joke,” Sara assured her. “And not a match, not yet. There’s much we need to discuss. Your parents made it clear to me that I was not to share your circumstances with any possible prospect. Now that Joseph has made his intentions clear, how do you feel about that? I’ve never counseled a would-be bride to keep such a big secret from her might-be groom.”

She exhaled softly and considered. “I’ve worried about that. But I gave my word to Daddi and Mommi. They didn’t think it would be wise to tell and asked that I not say anything. But that was before—” She chewed hard on her lower lip. “I don’t want to be dishonest with Joseph, but I promised them. I feel as though I have to keep my word. What do you think?”

“I agree that this is unusual, Ruby. Your father explained that he doesn’t want you judged for your circumstances. I don’t often condone misleading a suitor, but I understand your parents’ concern.”

“My father is a wise man. And I know both he and Mommi want what’s best for me.”

“Mmm, ya.” Sara picked a potato bug off a tomato leaf and dropped it into the dirt. She squashed it with the heel of her foot. “Nasty things,” she said. “I’ll never understand why the Lord created them, unless it was to teach us something I haven’t learned yet.” She met Ruby’s gaze. “You might as well know that I’m a woman who says what she thinks. And I have to tell you that the swiftness of Joseph’s proposal worries me.”

Ruby made a sound but was able to keep herself from interrupting.

“I’m sure he’s sincere, but these matters usually go at a much gentler pace. I had intended to introduce you to someone else.” Sara narrowed her gaze. “Are you certain you wouldn’t like to meet him before we proceed with Joseph’s suit?”

Ruby shook her head. “Ne. I think Joseph is wonderful, perfect even.”

Sara pursed her lips. “A perfect man I have yet to meet, although my former husbands all had excellent qualities. I’d be of an easier mind if you and Joseph would just date one another before you consider a formal courtship.”

“Ne.” Ruby sighed. “I’ve been to enough taffy pulls and barn frolics. I’m tired of dating. If Joseph is willing, I am too. I would love to have him court me.”

“Courtship is a serious matter. You’ll be strictly chaperoned and the community’s eyes will be on you. When you go out with Joseph, you’ll be in at a decent hour and you will not be alone with him in any private place. And there will be no physical shows of affection. Do you understand?”

“Ya, ya,” Ruby replied, feeling herself blush. “I understand. That’s fine. So what happens next? When can I see him?”

“Well...” Sara sighed as if resigned, though still not totally in agreement. “Joseph is coming to share supper with us tomorrow night. We’ll see how that goes. Fair enough?”

“Fair enough.” Ruby grinned. Tomorrow night! How could she wait that long? What would she wear? What would she say to him? She clasped her hands together. “I can’t believe this is happening,” she managed.

“Neither can I,” Sara admitted, coming to her feet.


Chapter Four (#u11ccd54d-f96b-56f9-98b3-f69668d76425)

It was close to six o’clock when Joseph got home from work that night. He’d been laying a line of blocks on a house foundation and wanted to use the last of the mixed cement so that it wouldn’t go to waste. It had been a hot day and he wanted to shower before supper. “I’ll be quick,” he promised his mother as he cut through the kitchen. “I’ve got something exciting to tell you.”

“Your clean clothes are in there,” his mother said, waving in the direction of the bathroom. She was her usual neat and tidy self. She didn’t appear to be a woman who’d done a day’s work and prepared supper on a warm evening. Her kapp and apron were spotless, her complexion was smooth and without blemish, and her shoes were newly shined.

Hair slicked and dressed fit to sit at the table, Joseph took his seat twenty minutes later. He was so excited to share his news that he could hardly keep from tapping the tabletop or bouncing his heel up and down, both of which always made his mother unhappy. She didn’t scold him the way she had when he was younger anymore, but she had a way of expressing her displeasure without words.

“Aunt Milly stopped by today and left us a carrot salad,” she said as she placed a platter of cold ham and cheese in front of him. “So hot today, I thought we’d eat light. But if you’re really hungry, I can fry some chicken.”

“Plenty here,” Joseph said. Which was an understatement. Besides the lunch meat and carrot salad, there was a platter of deviled eggs, coleslaw, sliced onions and tomatoes, Kaiser rolls, homemade applesauce, peanut butter, raisin bread and three quarters of a chocolate pie. “Maybe we should invite the neighbors.”





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