A Love For Leah. Emma Miller

door opened and Thomas turned his head to see not Sara but Leah. She was carrying a tray with slices of pie and three cups of coffee. “Oh!” he said. “You startled me.” He rose and hurried to take the tray, realizing that although he’d hoped they wouldn’t run into each other this evening, he was pleased to see her.

      “Sara asked me to bring this in,” Leah explained with a smile. “She said she’ll just be a minute.” He put the tray on the desk, and she took a seat opposite him and motioned to the coffee. “Please, go ahead. It’s nice and hot.”

      He noticed that she was wearing glasses. He didn’t think that she had worn them at the barn frolic. But they did nothing to hide the intelligent sparkle of her bright blue eyes. Leah should have been as plain as a barnyard dove in her worn gray dress, apron and headscarf, but red-gold tendrils of hair framed her heart-shaped face, and merry dimples gave her a mischievous appearance.

      He wondered if Sara could find him someone like Leah. But maybe not so pretty, he thought. Ellie had warned him that he needed to look beyond an attractive face and neat figure.

      A minute or two passed. Leah cupped her coffee mug in her hands and inhaled the steam. She didn’t speak, and Thomas realized that the silence between them wasn’t awkward. Rather, he found it peaceful. Most girls he knew liked to fill every second with chatter.

      He tasted his own coffee. It was good. He would have to ask Sara what brand it was. His mother was an excellent cook, but her coffee left something to be desired. It was either too weak or something. It never tasted as good as Sara’s. This was hearty, with a brisk, bright flavor.

      “I guess it was quiet in the jungle,” he remarked. “No traffic, not many people.”

      Leah smiled and shook her head. “Not noisy like here in the States, but certainly not quiet. There were so many insects, buzzing, flapping, whirring. For the first month I was there, I found it hard to sleep. And the monkeys? Some kinds scream, others howl. They all chatter nonstop. And sometimes you’d hear a deep rumble, like a cough in the night. Iago said that when I heard that noise, I should stay inside the house or clinic hut because it was a leopard and I would make a fine meal for a big cat.”

      Thomas gave her a sharp look. “A leopard? Did you ever see one?”

      “No, but Iago said that they came to our side of the river in the rainy season. One had killed a child from the nearest village two years earlier. He wasn’t given to tall tales, so I believed him.” She rested her mug on the wooden arm of her chair. “You would think him odd if you saw him. He wasn’t as tall as me; he had a potbelly, and his hair was cut like a cap just below his ears. Even though he was a great-grandfather, his hair was still as black as soot and coarse as a horse’s mane. Iago’s tattooed face was wizened like a winter apple and his legs were bowed, but he was stronger than you can imagine. He was my dearest friend other than my Daniel, and I shall never forget him. Iago taught me so much about life. It was his wisdom and patience that made it possible for us to live and work among the St. Joes.”

      “I would like to have met your Iago,” Thomas said.

      “You would have liked him. He told such stories that I could listen all day.”

      “He spoke English?”

      Leah chuckled and shook her head. “Only a little. His granddaughter translated for me, and Iago was a fine actor. He used such expressions and hand movements that it was easy to follow.”

      “Who was easy to follow?” Sara asked as she entered the room.

      Thomas stood. “Leah was telling me about some of her adventures in Brazil. It seems she was nearly eaten by a leopard.”

      “I didn’t say that.” Leah laughed.

      Sara took her place behind her desk and helped herself to a slice of pie. “Mmm. Coffee’s still hot. Good.” She motioned to the other plates of pie. “Well, what are you waiting for? It’s for eating, not looking.”

      Thomas took a plate and handed it to Leah.

      “I should leave you two alone,” Leah said, rising, her plate in her hand. “If you and Thomas have business.”

      “We do.” Sara wiped a drop of coffee from her lip. “And so do you and I.” She glanced from one of them to the other. “What? You really haven’t guessed, have you?”

      “Guessed what?” Thomas asked. He looked at Leah, who had sat down again, then back at Sara. “Wait. You don’t mean—”

      “Ne,” Leah pronounced firmly, looking at him and then at Sara, too. “Not Thomas. Not for me.” Her cheeks took on a rosy glow. “It’s nothing against you, Thomas,” she hastened to explain, glancing back at him again. “But you’re not what I—” She turned her attention to Sara again. “I was very clear what I’m looking for. An older man. Settled. With children.”

      Thomas shook his head, wondering what Sara could be thinking. “We’ve known each other our whole lives. You don’t think—”

      “Stuff and nonsense!” Sara interrupted him, seeming perturbed. “Listen to the two of you. Who is the expert here? I’ve made more matches than you can imagine, and I think I know my business. You’re perfect for each other.” She pointed at him with her fork. “You’re badly in need of a wife, Thomas. And Leah doesn’t want to leave Seven Poplars and her family. What could be a better solution?”

      “But Thomas isn’t...” Leah murmured.

      “She...she doesn’t—” Thomas struggled to find the right words. If she wasn’t interested in him, he certainly wasn’t going to be interested in her.

      “Look. Either you have faith in me or you don’t,” Sara said crisply. “Leah, you wanted an arranged marriage, someone of the faith that your family would approve of. And Thomas, you’ve been hopeless at finding someone on your own.” She fixed him with a determined gaze. “So here’s what I propose. Six weeks of dating. That should give you each time to consider the pros and cons of the other.”

      “But I don’t want to date Thomas,” Leah insisted. “He’s the last sort of man I’d want to marry.”

      Her words hurt him a little, and he felt his own ire rise. “She’s not what I’m looking for,” he blurted. “I won’t consider—”

      “Oh, but you will,” Sara said rather firmly. “You will both agree to give this match a fair chance. Because if you don’t, if you won’t even open your minds to the possibility, then I’m not the matchmaker for you.” She sat back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. “And I’ll wash my hands of both of you.”