The Amish Christmas Matchmaker. Vannetta Chapman

      She was shaking her head before he finished talking. “I’m not the boss of you.”

      “That’s true. You are not.”

      When he glanced up at her, she was discouraged to see that his normally amiable expression had changed into something more stubborn. Something probably resembling a Texas mule, if they looked any different than Indiana mules.

      She cleared her throat and tried a different approach. “I admire what you’re trying to do. I’m simply asking that you consider the situation of my family. We’re happy here. Don’t stir Dat up with all this talk of longhorns and wildflowers.”

      “Okay.” He stood and clamped the ridiculous cowboy hat down more firmly on his head.

      “Okay?”

       “Ya.”

      “Just like that?”

      “Seems a fair enough request.”

      “I agree. That’s why I made it.”

      “Gut day to you then.” With a quick smile, he turned and walked toward the lane. As if he’d just thought of something, he stopped, took off the hat, scratched his head and then turned back toward her. “Tell your parents gut evening, and danki again for the meal.”

      Annie stared after him, wondering what had just happened.

      Why had he agreed so readily?

      Why was he smiling?

      What was she missing here?

      Those things didn’t matter. What mattered was that they could put this silly matter of Texas behind them, and she could go back to focusing on her business. Though it was only September, she’d already passed the previous year’s profit. Now if she could have a strong fall, she’d feel in a good position for starting the new year.

      A new year in Goshen, Indiana, not on the wild plains of Texas.

      Amish families tended to eat dinner early—that way they could go out and do the evening chores before things were too dark to see well. The sun had dipped toward the west and a pleasant coolness had settled in as Levi walked down the road, away from the Kauffmans’ and toward Old Simon’s.

      He was thinking of how pretty and stubborn Annie was, how focused she was on that catering business—as if it were all that mattered—and the way her cheeks colored pink when she was angry. He was wondering what it was about himself that irked her so much, when an Amish man working on a fence line called out to him.

      “You must be the fellow helping out my father-in-law.”

      “I’m Levi. Levi Lapp. If your father-in-law is Alton Kauffmann, then ya. I’m helping him out two afternoons a week.”

      “Thought so.”

      “What gave me away?”

      “You’re the only Amish person I’ve ever seen wearing a cowboy hat. By the way, I’m Jebediah. I’m married to Alton’s middle daughter, Nicole.”

      “Nice to meet you.”

      Jebediah didn’t seem in any hurry to finish mending the fence. Instead he leaned against one of the fence posts and started peppering him with questions. “Heard you’re from Texas. What was that like? Also heard you were going back. When do you expect to do that? And do you really think you’ll convince Alton to go with you?”

      Levi laughed. “It doesn’t take long for word to get around.”

      “You know how it is.”

      “I do.” Levi scanned the horizon and wondered how best to address Jebediah’s questions. As usual, his enthusiasm for the subject won out over any instinct that might have told him to approach the subject slowly. “Texas was wunderbaar, and I’ve been trying to get back pretty much since we left, which was twelve years ago when I was fourteen. I hope to move down in the spring. Now that I have a church elder interested—”

      “Old Simon?”

       “Ya.”

      “He’s not in the best of shape.”

      “He’s not in the worst, either, and once we’re there, I think others will come.”

      “Maybe.”

      Jebediah’s comments were nothing like Annie’s. He didn’t sound critical of the idea so much as skeptical. A skeptic he could handle.

      “You should think about going with us.”

      “Can’t say as I’m interested myself, but if Alton goes, well that might be a different story. My wife is pretty attached to her family, which is gut because mine is in Ohio and we can’t afford land there.”

      “Land in Texas is cheap.”

      “Is it now?” Jebediah grinned as if he’d heard that one before. “Cheap doesn’t really matter if you don’t have any money, which I don’t. Married four years ago, and we have three boppli with another on the way. Every cent I makes gets plucked from my hand like a north wind snatched it away.”

      “That doesn’t bother you?”

      “Not really. We have what we need.”

      Levi wasn’t sure how to answer that. It was a common sentiment among Amish men and women alike. He had a little trouble relating. It wasn’t that he wanted more. It was only that he wanted something different than what he had.

      “I don’t want to keep you from mending that fence, and I best get on before Old Simon wonders what happened to me.”

      “See you tomorrow then.”

      “Tomorrow?” Levi had already turned away, but now he turned back to Jebediah. “Oh, I don’t work for Alton on Saturdays. That’s my day to stay and help Old Simon.”

      He’d even started calling the old guy that, and he’d only learned the nickname recently.

      “I mean that I’ll see you at the wedding.”

      “Wedding?”

      “Beth and Avery. Old Simon will be there for sure and certain—everyone will. It’ll be a gut time for you to meet folks.”

      The wedding that Annie had been preparing for. He suddenly realized that he’d like to see her in action, serving the masses from her tiny trailer. “I don’t even know them.”

      “You’re invited nonetheless. You’re a part of our community now. Everyone’s invited.”

      Those words echoed through Levi’s mind as he walked the last half mile to Old Simon’s house. You’re a part of our community now. It was a simple yet common sentiment among Plain folks. You moved in; you were accepted.

      So why had he never felt at home in Lancaster?

      Why did he have such terrible memories of his time here in Goshen?

      Maybe because he’d resented his community’s decision from the day they’d abandoned the Texas community. Maybe because the move had been difficult for his parents, not to mention his siblings. The old ache twisted in his gut, but he chose to ignore it.

      That was his past.

      His future was to the south and moving closer every day.

      He arrived home to find Simon sitting on the back porch, an open Bible in his lap. He barely seemed to look down at the well-worn pages. In fact, Levi had surmised that the old guy’s eyesight had weakened to the point that he couldn’t read the words printed there, but it seemed to soothe him to hold the open Bible.

      He also was a terrible driver. It was a good thing that