A Match For Addy (The Amish Matchmaker Book 1) (7 page)

But he seemed to think she could. Either that, or he didn’t care whether she could play or not. The thought was overwhelming, but then she summoned all her courage and did something almost as shocking. She sucked in a deep breath and declared, “Gideon’s right. None of you will come close to our score.” It was a brazen lie, but Gideon had sacrificed his reputation to protect her, and she had to support him.

She knew she’d never been popular, so it didn’t matter so much. The community expected her to be prickly. But Gideon was an outsider. She didn’t want them to think he had English ways or thought himself better than them. She had to speak up and give them all something else to talk about. And as soon as the bold words were out of her mouth, she frantically tried to think of some further way to defend him. But before she could, Ellie spoke up.

“Gideon’s not exactly telling the truth when he says he’s the
county
champion,” Ellie called in a loud, clear voice. “Gideon won the corn toss competition in Cashton, Hillsboro, Medford and Clark Counties. And he was the top scorer at the Wisconsin State Fair last year. I think that makes him a state champion.”

“That was Wisconsin,” Thomas shouted. “Wait until you see what us Delaware boys can do.”

“You tell him,” Jane called good-naturedly. Others joined in the friendly teasing and the couples lined up to play.

The game was simple. Someone had set up two wooden platforms measuring two feet by four feet. The playing boards were fashioned of plywood and painted with crudely drawn corn stalks on each one. The boards were angled so that the top was about a foot off the ground and the bottom at least four inches.

Opposing teams competed by tossing beanbags filled with corn kernels into a single six-inch-round hole cut near the top of the board. A beanbag through the hole was worth three points, while one that stayed on top of the platform without sliding off onto the ground was worth one point.

Charley had marked out a pitcher’s box with lime a distance from the corn boards. Each player got four chances to get their beanbags in, in each inning, and any player who stepped over the line was automatically out of the game. The first couple to make twenty-one points was the winner. Then the winning teams of the first round stepped aside to compete again against other finalists.

Addy was nervous when it came her turn to throw, but Gideon had gone first and earned ten points. “Take your time,” he cautioned. “And don’t worry. We’re a shoo-in.”

Her first beanbag missed the hole, struck the board over the opening and lay with part of the bag hanging over the edge of the hole. Her hands were shaking when she raised the second beanbag. This time, she kept her eyes on the board and threw with a little less force. To her surprise, the bag dropped neatly through the hole.

“What did I tell you?” Gideon leaped straight in the air and laughed. “Did I tell you? She’s a natural!”

Her third throw overshot the target, landed on top of her first beanbag, and teetered there. “Go in,” Addy urged. “In.” And then, as she stared at the beanbags, both slid into the hole and plopped onto the grass. Everyone began to cheer.

“One more, Addy. Go for it!” Gideon yelled.

Mary clapped and laughed. “You can do it, Addy!”

Addy made her final throw of the inning and shut her eyes as the beanbag left her hand. She was afraid to look, but Gideon’s excited shout told her that she’d scored. Twelve points for her, plus Gideon’s ten! Violet and Elmer were their opponents, and together they only made eleven points. Addy couldn’t help breaking into a wide smile when Charley directed them to stand with the finalists.

The corn toss tournament continued until there were only two couples left: she and Gideon, and Thomas and Ellie. Charley had drawn a special pitching box for Ellie that was much closer to the board, but no one minded. With her height, it was only fair. Addy certainly didn’t begrudge her friend any advantage she could gain. But no one had expected Ellie to be so good at the game.

In the final inning, Thomas and Gideon both scored twelve points, Ellie seven, and herself six, giving Thomas and Ellie the victory. Everyone cheered, even she and Gideon. He shook Thomas’s hand and promised not to go easy on him next time, and she hugged Ellie. If Gideon was disappointed that she hadn’t scored better this time, he didn’t show it. And as for her, she was thrilled. They’d come in second place, and she’d never come that close to winning anything in her life.

To make things even rosier, Miriam produced prizes: coupons from a pizza place in Dover for the guys, and a lovely mixing bowl set for Ellie. “You get something, as well,” Miriam said to Addy, handing her a new Bundt pan that would bake cakes with a raised pattern of daisies on the top. “Congratulations!”

The group gathered around the long table for three more fast hymns before ending the official part of the singing with the “
Loblied
”
in High German. Afterward, there was a period of relaxed chatting between potential couples and exchanges of jokes and whispered secrets between girlfriends. The evening ended with a rousing clapping and marching version of “The
Farmer in the Dell
.” Whether by choice or chance, Gideon ended up as the cheese and acted the part of the forlorn cheese to everyone’s delight.

When the song came to an end, Addy found her cake pan, said her thank-yous to Miriam and the Beachys and looked around for Ellie and Gideon. She assumed that the three of them would walk home together, as they’d come. Instead, Menno suddenly appeared in front of her.

“Want to ride home in my gig?” He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Would be easier, carrying your prize and all.”

Addy stared at him. He wasn’t asking her for a date,
was
he? There was a full moon, and although Charley and Elmer had lit lanterns that illuminated the area where they’d all gathered, it was too shadowy to make out Menno’s face clearly. Had she heard correctly? Was Menno really asking to take her home?

The whole evening had been special. It had seemed like everyone had been so friendly. Girls had wanted to sit near her, talk to her. Sure, most of the girls wanted to ask questions about Gideon, but still... It was a little heady to feel popular for the first time in her life. And now a fellow wanted to drive her home in his cart?

It was only Menno, but... Addy hesitated.

“Please, Dor—
Addy
. I wish you would. Come with me, I mean,” Menno said.

She looked at him. Why not? There wasn’t anything wrong with Menno. When he was a teenager, he’d been chubby, bordering on fat, but in the past three years, he’d lost the extra pounds and shot up to five-ten or five-eleven. Long hours in his father’s hay fields had given him a muscular body. His face was pleasant, nothing like Gideon’s, but he was a decent-looking young man. He was clean, neat, even dapper, and his soft brown hair was thick and a little wavy. Somehow, when she wasn’t looking, Menno had grown from a boy to a substantial man.

“Actually,” she hedged, “I came with Ellie and—”

“Gideon,” Menno finished. “I know. But Ellie is riding home with Thomas in his buggy, and Gideon and Lilly...”

Addy didn’t hear the rest of it. She looked across the barnyard and saw Gideon helping Lilly into Thomas’s father’s buggy. “They’re both going with someone else,” she said.

“Ya.”
Menno glanced in Gideon’s direction.

Gideon waved to him.

Menno looked back at her. “And I’m asking you.”

Suddenly, it was all too clear to her why Menno had asked to drive her home. Gideon had a date. Ellie had a date, and Gideon was too nice to want her to be left out. He hadn’t wanted her to walk home alone so he’d either bribed or forced Menno to invite her to ride with him.

She made her decision in an instant. The old Addy—
Dorcas
—might have gotten into Menno’s buggy because she would have thought that a ride home with
someone
was better than no ride home. But she didn’t feel that way anymore.

“
Danke
, but
ne
,” she said, making sure it didn’t come out unkindly. “You should find some other girl, Menno. You and me, I don’t think we’d suit. It’s a nice night, anyway. I’d rather walk.” And with that, she tucked her Bundt pan under her arm, drew herself up to her full height and walked away.

Chapter Six

L
aughter, shouted goodbyes and a frightened horse rearing in its traces made it simple for Addy to slip away. Not wanting to be noticed, she didn’t take the Beachys’ farm lane to the road. Instead, she ducked under the electric fence, which was powered by solar panels and never worked, and walked through the horse pasture. The moonlight made it easy to see where she was going without being bright enough for anyone who saw her to know who she was.

Addy didn’t want to be seen crossing the road, so when she reached the blacktop, she sat on a fallen pear tree holding her Bundt cake pan in her lap and watched as one horse and buggy after another rolled out of the driveway. A few vehicles carried multiple guests, but most provided transportation for dating couples. Singings and frolics were some of the few relaxed opportunities for young men and women to get acquainted away from the ever-vigilant supervision of family and church community.

Thomas’s buggy was hard to miss. Although
technically
the vehicle belonged to his father, Thomas often used it for his socializing. And when he did, he added flashing blue lights to the red ones on the front and back of the buggy and outlined the fluorescent orange triangle on the back with a double row of red bulbs. Violet had told her that there were red and blue lights on the inside of the dashboard, and that he kept a battery-powered radio and a cell phone in a box under the front seat. Thomas had dated nearly every eligible girl in the county at least once in the past two or three years...except for her.

Addy had once hoped that Thomas would turn his horse up her driveway. He owned a bit of land, and he’d learned the blacksmithing trade from his father and grandfather and would be well set up to start a family one of these days. Nothing would have pleased her parents more than to have a young man like Thomas court her. But although Thomas had always been friendly, no spark had ever kindled between them.

Sitting there now, it wasn’t the loss of Thomas that made a lump rise in her throat or made her eyes sting. It was the familiar laughter from the interior of the buggy, joined by the higher pitch of Lilly’s giggle. Gideon and Lilly sitting closely together in the backseat, maybe even holding hands. Addy wasn’t jealous. How could she be? She had no claims on Gideon. She sniffed and searched in her pocket for a tissue. A tear welled in the corner of her eye and dropped onto her cheek.

Why couldn’t it be me?
she wondered.
Just once. Why couldn’t I be riding in the dark, with a boy like Gideon?

She sniffed again, fighting the weepy sadness that threatened to ruin her wonderful evening.
What’s wrong with you? This was the best time you’ve ever had at a singing,
she reminded herself. She’d been song leader, and she’d won second prize at corn toss. She could almost say that she was one of the popular girls there tonight. She hadn’t sat alone, eaten her meal alone or sat out and watched while everyone else joined in the fun. And she could truthfully say that she’d walked there with her new friends Ellie and Gideon, people that everyone liked and wanted to know better.

“I had a good time,” she murmured aloud. “I did.” Thomas’s buggy pulled onto the road and turned right, outrageous lights flashing and blinking. “I had the best time,” she said. Images from the evening played over in her mind, and she began to weep in earnest. “I did,” she cried, when it was finally safe to cross the blacktop and hurry into the trees on the far side. “The best time ever...with Gideon and Ellie.”

By the time she crossed her Aunt Hannah’s quiet farmyard, the foolish self-pity had passed, and Addy had regained her composure and a measure of reason. The evening had been exciting. It had been far better than she’d expected. She should be grateful for what she’d been given. What would be wasn’t up to her. It was God’s plan. If he wanted her to have a husband and a family, he would provide one, but if it were her task to remain at home to care for her parents in their old age, then she would accept that with a good heart. She had her church, her family and a home. She would be content, and she would cease coveting what other girls might have.

When Addy opened her kitchen door, her mother rose from the kitchen table. She’d been waiting up for her. “You’re late tonight,” she said. “The singing didn’t end at ten, like usual?”

Addy glanced at the clock on the shelf. Eleven-fifteen. “
Ya
... I mean
ne
, it didn’t. There were a lot of people. It was nice.”

“Did you enjoy yourself?” Her mother embraced her, a rare show of emotion that gave Addy pleasure.

“I did.” She hugged her back, and for a few seconds the two stood there, long arms wrapped stiffly around each other. “I was song leader one time.”

“You picked a good hymn, I hope.”

Her mother pulled away, but the warmth of her touch lingered. Her mother had never been a touchy-feely person, forever hugging and kissing cheeks and patting shoulders like her Aunt Hannah and her Yoder cousins. But Addy had never doubted her mother’s love. Still, this unexpected gesture of affection was welcome, and Addy wanted to prolong the closeness between them.

“Is there buttermilk left in the refrigerator?” This was her mother’s day for making butter. Some families had given up the time-consuming practice, but not her
mam
. Thursday was always butter-making day.

As a child, watching her
mam
dip the thick cream into the big glass churn and then turn the handle for what seemed forever had fascinated her. And the moment when the white cream solidified into lumps of golden butter remained a treasured memory. Of course, the butter-making didn’t end there. The newly churned butter had to be turned out onto a clean cloth and the last of the liquid squeezed out of it before it was lightly salted and pressed into wooden molds. Not everyone could make butter, but her mother had a hand for it, and she had passed on the gift to her.

“There is. Have as much as you like, and pour me a half glass,” her
mam
said. “I was wondering when you’d get in. It’s not like you to stay up so late, what with work tomorrow. Did you get a ride home?”

Her mother’s tone was light, conversational, but Addy knew what she really wanted to ask.
Did a boy drive you home? Have you been riding around in the dark with someone?

Addy almost admitted that Menno had invited her, but that would mean explaining that she’d turned him down. And then her mother would want to know why and what was wrong with Menno. She could hear her penetrating voice reminding her that she was getting no younger and that Menno Swartzentruber was a decent young man from a good family, and she was in no position to be as picky as her Yoder cousins. So Addy held her own countenance and chose the easier path. “I could have gotten a ride with someone, but it was such a pleasant night, I decided to walk. Not many clouds. It’s nearly as bright as day out there.”

“I suppose that when I was thirty, I’d rather walk than ride,”
Mam
conceded.

“Not thirty yet.” Addy didn’t let the hurt show in her voice.

“Not yet, but soon enough. Pray that Sara is as good as she claims, and that she can find you a husband. I just hope it wasn’t a mistake to turn down Preacher Caleb. There’s more to a man than a handsome face.”

“I didn’t turn Caleb down because of the scars on his face,” Addy said softly. And that was
mostly
true. “He just wasn’t right for me.”

“Time will tell, Dorcas. Time will tell, and you’re the one to live with your decision. I only hope you don’t live to regret it.”

“Addy,
Mam
. I like to be called Addy.”

Her mother made a small sound that might have been amusement or derision or might have been no such thing at all. “Time for us both to be in our beds, daughter. Don’t forget your prayers.”

“
Ne
,
Mam
. I won’t.” Addy smiled at her mother. Pushing thirty, and her mother still reminded her to brush her teeth and say her prayers every night.

Her mother rose and carried her empty glass to the sink. The unwashed supper dishes and a few pots were already piled there, waiting for morning. Addy would rise a little earlier and have them done and put away before her parents got up.

“God keep you safe, child,”
Mam
said. “And don’t forget to brush your teeth.”

* * *

The following morning, Addy made certain that she was in Sara’s kitchen before her normal time to start her day’s chores. She didn’t want Sara to think the previous night’s frolic would affect her work. The fact that Addy had lain awake for hours reliving the exciting moments of the evening and hadn’t had more than four or five hours’ sleep couldn’t be an excuse for laziness. She turned away from Sara to hide a yawn. The thought that maybe she’d been foolish to turn down Menno’s offer to ride home with him crossed her mind. What if she’d misjudged him? What if Menno really wanted to be with her, and she’d rejected him out of false pride? Why had she not considered that last night?

No wonder she was an old maid. The sensible thing would have been to accept and wait to see if an attraction did rise between them. But the sensible solution, it seemed, always came to her as an afterthought.

“Coffee, Addy?” Ellie asked. “Sara made bran muffins with raisins this morning. Would you like one?”

“Just coffee,” Addy replied. She’d already had two cups at home, but this morning she thought she needed the extra energy. When her alarm had gone off, she’d wanted nothing more than to turn over, pull the pillow over her head and go back to sleep. “
Mam
sent you this.” She handed Sara a wax-paper-wrapped rectangle of golden butter with a clover-leaf pattern pressed into the side.

“Perfect,” Sara said. “Your mother has a touch for sweet butter. Tell her I appreciate it, and you be certain to take home a half dozen of these bran muffins when you leave.”

She waved Addy to join the two of them at the breakfast table and proceeded to tell them what she wanted done in the house that day. There was no sign of Gideon, but his big coffee mug standing in the sink and the breakfast dishes waiting to be washed told Addy that he’d already eaten and had already started his workday. Just as well, she thought. He would be spilling over with talk of how much fun he and Lilly had last night, and she was in no mood to hear it.

An hour later, Addy wrung out her sponge, dropped it back into a bucket and got to her feet. She’d just finished scrubbing the last corner of the room. Not that the floors had been dirty to begin with, to her way of thinking, but Sara scrubbed them every morning except the Sabbath, starting with the utility room, then the big kitchen and dining room. Rubbing the small of her back absently, Addy gazed back over the expanse of sparkling green-and-white tile with pleasure. “Well, that’s done,” she declared.

“My turn, tomorrow.” Ellie was perched on a stool by the sink, polishing silverware. She held up a fork. “Thankfully,
this
isn’t a chore that has to be done daily.”

Addy picked up the bucket. To keep from walking on the wet floor, she’d have to carry the dirty water out the front door. It would have made more sense to her to begin in the dining room and end with the utility room, but Sara was her employer, and Addy would do what she was asked. “I’ve never polished silver,” she said. “Never knew anyone in our community who had it.” She’d heard Ellie say that the set was sterling, which must be terribly expensive. She’d not mention it to her own mother, who’d have a word or two to say about a
Plain
woman possessing such fancy knives, forks and spoons. Privately, Addy thought them pretty, with their swirls-and-hearts pattern.

“Me, either, not until I met Sara,” Ellie confided. “She told me that the set came from her great-grandmother, and it would be a disgrace to sell it or give it away because it is beautiful.”

“Is Sara rich?” Addy asked, her bucket of dirty water in her hand. She felt safe in pumping her friend about Sara because she was out in the garden cutting flowers. “My mother says that Sara is a wealthy widow who’s outlived three husbands.”

“Why do you ask? Are you a person who cares how much money another possesses?”

Addy was so surprised to see Gideon fill the utility room doorway that she nearly dropped her bucket. How could such a big man move so silently? She hadn’t heard the door squeak or so much as a footstep.
“Ne,”
she protested a little too vehemently. A wave of embarrassment washed over her skin, and she felt her cheeks grow warm. She shouldn’t have asked about Sara, but Gideon was just as wrong by sneaking up and listening in on a private conversation. “I’m not a greedy person,” she added, “and neither am I so thoughtless that I’d walk on a clean-scrubbed floor in dirty farm boots.” She pointed at the floor.

Gideon looked down. “Sorry, I didn’t think—”

“Ne,”
Addy retorted. “You didn’t think because you’re not the one who has to mop it again.”

“I’m sure Gideon didn’t mean it,” Ellie chimed in.

“Didn’t say he did,” Addy said. “Probably had his mind on last night’s fun.”

“There’s two of us to blame.” Sara appeared behind Gideon, with an armful of flowers. “But there’s no harm done. This floor is already dry. A quick sweep will make all well.”

Addy suddenly felt uncomfortable. Had Sara heard her question to Ellie? Would Sara think she was a busybody? Flustered, Addy backed out of the dining room. “I’ll dump this bucket,” she stammered. “Outside. On the lawn.”

“Backyard,” Sara suggested. And then to Gideon, she said, “Best you take off those clodhoppers and leave them outside on the porch. The kitchen floor is still damp. You can...”

Whatever else Sara said was lost as Addy retreated into the front hall and outside. She felt awful, and she was more than a little irritated by Gideon’s remark. To ask her if she cared about money was rude. And him pretending to be so good-natured all the time. What was it
Grossmama
always said?
Sooner or later, even a black cat will show his true colors.

She walked around the house, dumped the bucket at the edge of the field where the water would cause no trouble and then rinsed it out at the faucet at the base of the windmill. She was already beginning to regret her sharp words to Gideon. Yes, it was true that he’d tracked dirt onto her clean floor, but that was a man for you. And he had said he was sorry. If only he hadn’t overheard her conversation with Ellie. She’d meant no harm in asking about Sara. After all, Sara was a distant relative, and it was natural to be curious. Addy certainly didn’t blame Sara for the unfortunate loss of her husbands. What was the wonder was that Sara could bear so much sorrow and still face the world so cheerfully.