An Unlikely Amish Match. Vannetta Chapman

couldn’t things stay as they were?

      She couldn’t have explained what made her think so, but somehow she was certain that the comfortable rhythm of their days was about to change.

      And then, as if to confirm her thoughts, her dat said, “Oh, I forgot to mention that Micah is going to be working in my shop a couple hours each afternoon. Perhaps we can have him over for dinner sometime.”

      The smile on her mamm’s face told Susannah there was no use arguing with that.

      Well, she’d just have to endure Micah’s presence though she did not and would not approve of his Englisch ways.

      Her dat had said he was staying awhile.

      Micah had mentioned a few months.

      Surely it couldn’t be for a terribly long time. He wasn’t moving in, and he hadn’t been carrying any luggage, just the denim backpack. With any luck, he’d be gone by the first day of summer.

      As was his habit, her dat took the twins out with him to do a final check of the animals. Susannah and her mother were cleaning the dishes when the conversation returned to Micah.

      “Do you think you might like him?”

      “Oh, I’m pretty sure we’re polar opposites.”

      “Not always a bad thing.”

      “It’s not going to happen, Mamm.” The words came out more harshly than she’d intended. “We’ve spoken of this. I don’t believe... That is, I’m sure what you’re thinking of isn’t Gotte’s plan for me.”

      “You mean marrying.”

      “Ya. I mean marrying.”

      “Because of your cancer—which is gone.”

      “Gone, yes, but it could come back, and more than that, the whole experience has left me changed.”

      “In more ways than one.” Her mamm turned to study her though her hands remained in the sudsy water. “You’ve turned into a fine young woman, Susannah—a godly woman.”

      “You’re changing the subject. Any man—any Amish man—would want a houseful of children.” Susannah refused to meet her mother’s gaze. Instead, she focused on the plate she was drying.

      “Just because Samuel felt that way doesn’t mean every man feels the same.”

      “We both know that Samuel and I were...mismatched. His breaking up with me, it was hard, but I felt immediately better once it was done.”

      “But...”

      “But I learned, Mamm. I learned that men have certain expectations from marriage.”

      Why was it that speaking of this always brought tears to her eyes? She’d grown accustomed to the facts—to the limitations—of her life, but it seemed as if a certain part of her heart remained bruised. “How does the proverb go? ‘No woman can be happy with less than seven to cook for’? I suspect no Amish man can be happy with less than seven to provide for.”

      “Children come to us in different ways.”

      “You’re speaking of adoption—which is rare in an Amish community.”

      “Rare but not unheard-of.” Her mamm wiped her hands on a dish towel, reached out and put a hand on each of Susannah’s shoulders, turning her toward her.

      Susannah couldn’t resist the need to look up, to look into her mamm’s eyes and face her dreams and fears head-on.

      “I’m only saying that you shouldn’t assume you know Gotte’s plan for your life. Our ways are not Gotte’s ways, and that’s something to be grateful for.”

      Once Susannah nodded that she understood, her mamm picked up another dish and slipped it into the dishwater. Susannah swiped at the tears that had slipped down her cheeks, feeling foolish and wishing she could keep a better rein on her emotions.

      Her melancholy wasn’t about Micah. It was about her parents’ expectations for her life. Micah, she felt nothing except pity for—and perhaps a tad of irritation.

      “Just wait until you meet Micah, then you’ll understand.”

      “Will I, now?”

      “I’m more likely to marry Widower King.”

      “Who is a fine man and a gut addition to our community.”

      “And he’s thirty-five years old.”

      “Is he, now?”

      They shared a smile. Her mamm knew very well how old Mose King was and that Susannah didn’t have an ounce of romantic feelings for the man.

      “You wouldn’t have to worry about not being able to have children,” her mamm joked.

      “Indeed—six would be plenty, especially when those six are three pairs of twins.”

      “And all boys.”

      “All of them full of energy.” Susannah purposely used her mother’s words from earlier that afternoon.

      They finished cleaning up the kitchen and walked onto the front porch to watch for her dat and the twins.

      “I understand your not being interested in Micah, though you’d do well to remember that our first impression of someone isn’t always the best.”

      “Fair enough.”

      “There’s something else you should know, though.”

      Susannah sank into the rocker beside her mamm. She thought that twilight might be her favorite time of day. Something in her soul felt soothed by watching the sun set across their fields and her dat walking hand in hand with the twins toward the house.

      “Micah’s parents have been corresponding with Abigail and John. When it was decided he would move here, they shared the letter with both me and your dat. He’s had a bit of a hard time, which is why he’s here.”

      “Okay.” She said the word slowly, tempted to add an I thought so.

      “What I’m saying is that Micah will be here for at least six months—”

      “Six months?” Susannah realized her mouth was hanging open and snapped it shut.

      “And he’ll be here helping your dat every day, so it could be that Gotte has put him in our path for a special reason.”

      Susannah stifled a groan.

      “There’s a real possibility that what Micah needs most is not a girlfriend but simply a friend, and that’s something that we can each be.”

       Chapter Two

      Micah’s first night with his grandparents went fairly well. It was the next morning that things took an unpleasant turn, when they laid down the law, so to speak.

      His dat’s parents were in their midsixties—not too old to farm, but old enough that they should be slowing down. That wasn’t happening. His daddi, John Fisher, was built like an ox. Micah’s mother had always said that Micah inherited his size from the man, but Micah didn’t see it. He was as muscular as the next guy, but his grandfather’s forearm look like corded rope. Forearm—singular. He’d lost his right arm in a harvesting accident when he was just twenty years old. It had made him tough and intolerant of weakness of any type.

      He was also a very serious man. Micah couldn’t imagine that they’d come from the same gene pool.

      Abigail Fisher was stern as well, but