A Perfect Amish Match. Vannetta Chapman

Mae put down her fork, which was filled with macaroni salad. “I think we’ve had a breakthrough. You genuinely meant that.”

      “Ya. Maybe the journaling is helping, because it occurred to me that even though I don’t enjoy being taller than most men, I love the fact that I have something in common with my dat.”

      “I suspect you have a lot in common with him.”

      “Back to the dating thing...” Francine was much more invested in the matchmaking process, maybe too much. Her enthusiasm tended to frighten men. It was one of the reasons that Olivia Mae thought that Jane might be a better match for someone as shy as Noah.

      “I only met Noah earlier this week.”

      “Tell us about him.” Francine stole a glance over her shoulder at Noah.

      He was sitting three tables away with his bruders and their wives. Was he the only Graber son who wasn’t married? Olivia Mae thought he was, but she’d have to ask around to be sure. That could work in their favor, too.

      “He’s nice enough. Obviously he’s easy on the eyes.”

      “I’ll say.” Francine grinned.

      Jane blushed, but she was listening intently.

      “He’s working as an auctioneer in Shipshe.”

      “Is that why he moved back?” Jane asked.

      “Ya, and it’s gut that he knows what he wants to do. He won’t be distracted by that question as some men are—”

      “I still can’t believe that Elijah took a job at the RV factory.” Jane shook her head in obvious disbelief. She’d thought Elijah would settle down and work for the town farrier, but it apparently wasn’t destined to be. “He told his schweschder, who told me, that working around the horses just wasn’t challenging enough. What’s not challenging about shoeing horses?”

      “Let’s focus.” Olivia Mae picked up her brownie, took a bite and allowed the sugar and chocolate to work their magic. Why was it that things you weren’t supposed to eat a lot of were so delicious? “Seems to me that Noah might be self-conscious about his height.”

      “How tall is he?” Jane asked.

      “A little over six feet, I think. I didn’t exactly measure him when he came by the house.” She hadn’t meant to say that. One glance at Jane and Francine told her she’d have to go through the entire story of how he’d returned her box, so she did so quickly. “Anyway. He’s back in town, working at the auction house, and he says he’s happily single.”

      “Uh-oh.” Jane sat up straighter, which was another improvement. She used to always slump, trying to make herself shorter.

      “That’s what they all say,” Francine reminded them. “His own bruder—Justin—told you that he wasn’t interested in dating at all. That it was a waste of time! Look at him now. He’s happily married and expecting a boppli.”

      “Sometimes that makes things easier, when another person in the family has been successfully matched. Other times...” Olivia Mae noticed Noah was being teased by his bruders. He glanced toward her table, shook his head, picked up his plate and walked away. “Other times it can make a man more resistant to change.”

      “Why am I not encouraged by this entire talk?” Jane began to chew on her thumbnail, but tucked her hands back into her lap when she noticed Olivia Mae watching. “Sounds like he’s not interested at all. What’s your plan?”

      “My plan is to convince him that it’s his idea.”

       Chapter Three

      Noah made a point of avoiding Olivia Mae after lunch. His brothers had had a hearty laugh over the fact that he’d thought she was married. How was he to know? What kind of matchmaker couldn’t find herself a husband? It would be like owning a buggy shop but no buggy. Regardless, he thought it best to avoid her.

      It wasn’t so terribly hard.

      He played baseball. She sat with the women under the hickory tree.

      He had more dessert. She seemed to be avoiding the snack table.

      He saw her take two young girls into the sheep pen, then coax one of the new lambs over and show them how to pet the babes so that the mother wouldn’t be frightened. He’d almost walked over to her then, just casually, to tease her about being a shepherdess. He’d even remembered a sheep joke that he thought would make her laugh.

      But she’d said something to the girls, and they’d hurried out of the pen and toward her grandfather. At least Noah supposed the old guy who was gesticulating wildly was her daddi. Olivia Mae and an older woman—her grandmother?—had helped him into the house, and then he hadn’t seen her again for a while. He’d almost put the idea behind him—of having a talk with her and setting her straight—when he literally bumped into her coming out of the barn and carrying a large ice cooler.

      She juggled the ice cooler, and he plucked it from her hands.

      “Leaving so soon?”

      “Ya, Daddi’s tired.”

      “I can carry this for you.”

      She cocked her head and stared up at him.

      He squirmed under her inspection. Why did she make him feel like his hat was on backward? “Since I almost ran you over, seems like the right thing to do.”

      “All right. Danki.”

      They talked about the weather as long as anyone possibly could and then fell into an awkward silence. Her buggy would be the last one in the line. Why had he offered to carry the cooler? It was obviously empty and weighed practically nothing. Fishing around for something to say, he remembered her standing in the sheep pen.

      “Where do sheep go on vacation?”

      “What?”

      “Where do sheep go on vacation?”

      “I’m sure I have no idea.”

      “The Ba-a-aa-hamas.”

      The look on her face was funnier than the joke.

      “Do you do that very often?”

      “Do what very often?”

      “Tell jokes when you’re nervous.”

      “Who said I was nervous?”

      “It’s sort of obvious.”

      They’d reached her buggy. She opened the driver’s-side door, fished around inside and pulled out three bungee cords. He strapped the cooler to the back of the buggy, as he tried to think how best to answer her question.

      “I’m not nervous exactly. It’s only that I wanted to say something to you, and I wasn’t sure how to bring up the subject.”

      “Oh. All right. I’m all ears.”

      “I’m afraid we started off on the wrong foot.”

      “How so?”

      He knew she knew what he was talking about, but obviously, she wasn’t going to make this easier for him. He leaned against her buggy and crossed his arms. “I didn’t mean to dismiss what you do. Obviously you provide an important service to our community.”

      “You mean my knitting?”

      “Nein. I do not mean your knitting. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

      Now she smiled at him—a perky got-you smile that had him shaking his head. Was that why she wasn’t married?