A Husband For Mari (The Amish Matchmaker 2) (11 page)

Sara sat up straight, swallowed her amusement at his attempt to appear manly and regarded him with as much dignity as she could muster. “This must be important,” she said. “Would you like to sit down?”

Zachary glanced around uneasily, then nodded and slid onto a straight-backed chair directly across from her desk. His lips were pinched tightly together; his eyes fixed on her.

After a moment of silence, she said, “So you have something you want to talk to me about?”

He nodded.

She waited.

“I want to hire you to...make a match,” he said, all in a rush.

“I see.” She nodded gravely. “Don’t you think you’re a little young yet to be thinking about finding a wife?” She liked Zachary and she didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but it was all she could do to hide her amusement.

He shook his head. “Not for me. For my mom.” He held out the canning jar. Cobwebs clung to the outside, and Sara guessed that he’d just retrieved his stash from the barn loft or the recesses of the cellar. “I can pay your fee. I’ve got money.” He pressed his lips together. “It’s mine. What I earned working for James. I wanted to help pay for a car, but...” He straightened his thin shoulders. “I don’t think we need a car. We get along just fine here without one.”

“So you’re here to discuss a business arrangement?”

“Yeah, I mean...
ya
.” Zachary nodded again. “I’m not sure how this is supposed to work.” He placed his money jar on the floor by his left shoe. “This Amish stuff is pretty new to me.”

“Well, when talking with a client, I usually start by having some refreshments. Would you like hot chocolate?”

“What are you drinking?” He glanced at her mug.

“Coffee.”

“Then I’ll have coffee, if it’s okay.”

“If you like.” She held out her cup. “There’s a pot on the stove in the kitchen. Refill mine and pour one for yourself. Lots of milk.”

In no time, Zachary was back with two cups of coffee on a little wooden tray they kept hanging on the wall in the kitchen for just that purpose. “I put lots of milk and sugar in mine,” he explained as he set the tray down on her desk and picked up his mug.

She motioned for him to sit. “Tell me about this match you’d like me to arrange.”

“Everybody says that you’re the best, and...and you’re the only matchmaker I know.” Zachary glanced down at the jar. “I don’t know how much it costs, but I’ve got twenty-one dollars and eleven cents. If it’s more than that, I can pay some every week.”

“Let’s set the finances aside for a moment.” She removed her glasses and used the corner of her apron to clean them, a ploy she often used to give herself a moment to think of what to say. “Who would you like me to find a match for?”

“My mom,” he blurted. “So we can stay here.”

“I see.” Sara reached for her coffee mug. “Have you thought this over carefully? You haven’t been here at Seven Poplars all that long. And you’re really just getting settled in our school. Are you certain you can be happy here?”

“Yeah. I think so. I mean...” He frowned. “I like Ellie and the school, and the kids are cool. Especially Jonah and ’Kota and J.J.”

“You told your mother that you wanted to go back to Wisconsin. Have you changed your mind about that?”

“Yeah.” He hesitated. “I like the stuff we do here. Working. And the horses. And we all play games at recess. Nobody pushes you around.”

“Did people push you around at your old school?”

Zachary grimaced. “I’m not as big as some kids my age. At our old school, some guys thought they were all that. They took my coat, the one I told Mom disappeared. One of the older kids ran away with it.”

“But you didn’t tell a teacher?”

He shook his head. “Being a squealer could get you hurt. Everybody would gang up on you on the playground. I was scared of getting beat up.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Sara said. “But you should have told your mother.”

“I guess.”

“Does this happen at Ellie’s school?”

He shook his head again. “No way. The bigger guys help you out. Peter showed me how to hold a baseball bat, and I got a hit. We were all playing ball after school yesterday.” He wrinkled his nose. “It was a little slushy, but we didn’t care.”

She smiled. “I’m glad that this school is working out for you, Zachary. Amish don’t believe in fighting. We don’t believe in violence at all.”

“That’s what Mom said. She says Amish people are...gentle. It’s why I want you to get a husband for her. So we can stay here.”

Sara pursed her lips. She’d not expected this. But Zachary seemed serious, and she didn’t want to hurt his feelings. “You understand that the matches I make are all for Old Order Amish couples,” she said carefully. “Do you think your mother would want to marry an Amish man?”

“Maybe she would. I
think
she would. If we found her a good one. She likes it here.”

Sara nodded thoughtfully. “And if I find her an Amish husband, she’d have to join the church herself. She’d be Amish. And so would you. How would you feel about that?”

“Me, too?”

Sara nodded again. “You wouldn’t be expected to join the church now. That’s for adults. But you would have to go to church regularly. Can you do that?”

Zachary slid forward on his chair and balanced his mug on one knee. “It was okay. I think I could.” He took a sip of the coffee and puckered his mouth.

“Maybe a little more milk,” Sara suggested, pointing to a small pitcher on the corner of her desk. “And another sugar lump. It’s a big cup.”

“Thanks.” Zachary carried his cup to the table and helped himself to both. He used the spoon to stir it and tasted the coffee.

“Better?” Sara asked. She’d never seen Zachary drink coffee before.

Zachary dropped in another cube of sugar. “This is good,” he said. And then he added more milk.

“So you’re okay with having an Amish father?” she asked.

“Yeah.” He grimaced. “I hate moving to new schools. In second grade we moved twice. It’s weird, you know. You don’t know anybody. If Mom gets married to an Amish man, I can just stay at Ellie’s school.”

“I imagine moving has been hard on you.”

He nodded. “Sometimes. But it’s tough for my mom, too. Getting up the rent and money for electric.” He offered a little smile. “No electricity bill if you’re Amish.”

Sara toyed with her glasses, rubbing a finger along the rim. “And how does your mom like the idea of an Amish husband? Do you think she’d agree if I found her a good match?”

“Oh, I’ve already picked out the guy for her. I just need you to convince her to marry him.”

Sara raised her eyebrows. She had liked Zachary the night he’d arrived, cranky and tired, but with every passing day, she liked him more. It was almost as if he was becoming the grandson she didn’t have. “So this is all your idea?”

He nodded.

“And you haven’t talked with your mother about a husband?”

He shook his head.

“I see.” She didn’t see at all. Lilly’s cousin’s mother had made an inquiry about Mari on behalf of her son Calvin, but the woman had quickly cooled when Sara had explained that Mari hadn’t been baptized yet. She’d mentioned it to Mari, who’d chuckled and said that it was just as well because she wasn’t certain she knew how to cook duck. It had seemed an odd reply, but Mari and Ellie had both laughed until tears rolled down their cheeks. So Mari definitely wasn’t interested in the duck farmer. Who, then, did Zachary have in mind?

“You can’t guess who I mean?” Zachary set his cup of coffee, barely touched, on a table beside his chair. “James, of course. He likes her. I know he does.”

Sara lifted her brows, pleasantly surprised, not so much by the statement but by the boy’s keen observation.
Out of the mouths of babes...
“James likes your mother?”

“Yeah.” Zachary eyed an oatmeal cookie on a plate on her desk. “I just don’t know if
she
knows. He looks at her all the time when she’s not looking at him. And he smiles a lot when she’s around.”

“And you think they’d be a good match? Your mother and James?” She handed him the cookie, left over from her midmorning snack.

Zachary took a big bite. “They like to be together, and she always asks him about stuff. James doesn’t have a wife. And he needs one.”

“He does?” Sara asked. “And why is that?”

“Because Mattie is moving into her own house and James will be all alone. He might be scared there by himself.” He stuffed the rest of the cookie into his mouth. “And he wouldn’t have anybody to eat with him and stuff.” Zachary folded his arms over his chest. “I could help him, too. With his carpentry stuff and taking care of Jericho. James is teaching me how to drive. And if I was his son, he wouldn’t have to pay me, and he’d have more money. So it would be better for both him and Mom.” He looked down at the floor and slid one foot back and forth. “So what do you think? Will you do it?”

Sara smiled. “I think something can be arranged.”

Chapter Ten

J
ames came for Mari and Zachary on Saturday as he’d promised, and Mari felt a warm glow of excitement as his buggy stopped near Sara’s back door. She and Zachary donned their coats and hurried out to discover that James was alone. “Your sister didn’t come with you?”

“Emanuel and Roman both have upset stomachs,” James explained as he came around the back to help Mari into the buggy. “Zach, you scoot up on the bench and sit between us,” he said. “I promised to teach you the basics of driving, and this is as good a time as any to start.”

“Yes!” Zachary fist-pumped.

“I’m sorry the kids are sick.” Mari took James’s warm hand and stepped up easily, settling herself on the cushioned seat. Amish buggies were all supposed to be alike, but they rarely were. Some, like their owners, were sparse, dusty and needed sprucing up, while others boasted black leather seats, an oiled dashboard and a spotless interior. There were no fancy red, white and blue blinking lights or extras visible inside James’s vehicle, but the buggy had obviously been cleaned and recently painted inside.

“Mattie was disappointed to miss Lovina’s birthday party,” he said, “but Roman and Emanuel spent the afternoon sick to their stomachs. She could hardly inflict that on Anna and her guests.”

“I hope the babies don’t get sick, too.”

“I doubt it’s a virus,” James confided. “I think the problem might be related to a jar of oatmeal cookies they got into while their mother was changing diapers.”

Mari couldn’t help laughing. “Those boys are a handful.”

“That they are. The twins will have a high bar to get over if they want to match them for mischief. But Mattie has gone to so much trouble getting Roman and Emanuel to this age that I suppose she’ll have to keep them.”

Zachary, now sitting between them, glanced up at James, a worried look on his face.

“He’s teasing,” Mari assured her son. “Mattie loves all her children.”

“She does,” James agreed with a grin. “I think she even loves me, and when I was Roman’s age, I was worse than he is, if you can believe what Mattie says. She was a good big sister, and she’s a wonderful mother. She’s smart and she’s kindhearted. Women like that aren’t easy to find.”

“My mom’s smart,” Zach piped up, looking at James. “You could marry her, and then I could drive Jericho all the time.”

Mari could feel the heat rising from her neck upward. Mortified, she didn’t know what to say. As she opened her mouth to force something out, James laughed and tousled Zach’s hair. “Now, that’s an idea,” he said, grinning as he pressed the reins into her son’s hands. “This is how you hold the leathers. You have to be gentle but firm.”

Mari looked away, touching her hand to her cheek. She had to be bright red with embarrassment. “So Lovina lives with Anna and her husband, doesn’t she?” she asked. She knew very well that Lovina did, but she felt desperate to move the conversation to safer ground.

“She’s been living with them for a while.” James gently adjusted the reins in Zach’s hands again. “That’s right. Like that.”

Mari had learned from Sara that Lovina Yoder, Hannah’s first mother-in-law, had moved in with Hannah when she gave up her home in Ohio and moved to Seven Poplars. But the two never got on well. Anna was Lovina’s favorite granddaughter and the only one with whom she never found fault. Apparently, Lovina was happier in Anna’s home, and Anna and Samuel insisted that they loved having her with them.

“Lovina’s strong-willed, as is Anna, so they’re well suited to each other,” James went on. “Everyone thinks it’s a good solution.” And then to Zachary, he said, “We call the reins
leathers
. You hold them firmly, but you don’t jerk them or you’ll hurt the horse’s mouth. Jericho has a tender mouth, but he’s a smart horse and eager to please. Not all animals are so easy to drive, but you need to treat them all with respect, even the difficult ones.”

“James, you don’t have to do this today,” Mari said. “You could teach him another day, just around the farm.” They’d be traveling on the paved road with motor traffic once they reached the end of the drive, and Zachary knew nothing of horses.

“Mom,” her son protested. “I can do it. Peter and Rudy both drive on the road.”

“Samuel’s sons are older than you are,” she answered. “I’m sure they weren’t taking their parents’ buggy on the road at age nine.”

“This will be a short lesson today. Just until we get to the end of the lane.” James nodded his approval. “That’s it. Good grip. Now give him the order to ‘walk on.’”

“Walk on,” Zachary said, and he gave an excited sigh of delight when the horse obeyed.

Mari watched the serious way Zachary held the reins and felt a distinctly un-Amish pride in his first attempt at driving.

“That’s right,” James encouraged. He didn’t touch the reins himself, but Mari saw that he was watching Zachary closely. “Good,” James said. “You have a steady hand. Never let a horse know when you’re frightened or unsure of yourself because they’ll pick up on it and act accordingly.”

“Addy said that Lovina is her grandmother, as well?” Mari asked, starting to relax. James didn’t seem to be the least upset by Zach’s remark.

“Yes, Lovina is Martha’s mother. All right, Zach. I’ll take over now.” James took the reins, and Zachary dropped his hands into his lap.

“When can I drive again?” her son asked eagerly.

“Soon, I promise.” James waited until a car passed and then eased the horse and buggy onto the blacktop.

With James driving, Mari felt herself relax. “Anna lives near the school, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah, Mom,” Zachary answered. “Right next door, just through the woods. Peter and Rudy just walk over. Most of the kids walk, and if I didn’t ride with Ellie, I could walk, too.”

Mari was still weighing the pros and cons of Zachary attending the Amish school, at least long-term as he was pushing for. She’d discussed it with Ellie at length and mulled it all over in her mind. But considering that Zachary wanted to go and was applying himself, she couldn’t think of a good reason to forbid it.

Since the Mast home was near Sara’s, less than two miles away, it didn’t take long to reach it. Mari could smell food as she climbed down from the buggy. “You go on in,” James told her. “Zachary and I will tie up Jericho.”

Rebecca saw her as she walked toward the house, waved and hurried to welcome her. “I’m so glad you could come.” Rebecca gave Mari a hug. “We’re going to eat soon. Anna baked a huge pineapple cake, and
Grossmama
can’t stop talking about it. She loves cake.”

The warmth of the big farmhouse, even larger and finer than Hannah’s, overflowing with relatives, friends and neighbors, enveloped Mari as Rebecca led her inside. Guests nodded, smiled and called out greetings to Mari and others who filed in behind her. The elderly Lovina was holding court in a high-backed, old-fashioned, cushioned chair near the woodstove that stood in one corner of the combination kitchen and dining room. Mari could see that the aging matron had once been tall and slim. Now she was rail-thin, her nose a sharp beak and her back bent, but her eyes as fierce as any hawk’s.

When Mari went to say hello, Lovina peered at her through her wire-rim glasses. “You have the look of your
grossmama
,” she pronounced in a raspy voice when Mari greeted her.

Sara had warned Mari that Lovina’s memory often failed her and that she suffered from early-stage dementia, but this white-
kapped
woman with the iron-gray hair who was sizing her up seemed alert and shrewd.

“
Grossmama
, this is Mari Troyer, Sara’s friend,” Rebecca introduced. “She’s from Wisconsin.”

“I know who she is.” Lovina spoke in
Deitsch
. She stared hard at Mari. “You’re Maryann Troyer’s granddaughter.”

Mari’s mouth gaped in surprise. “You knew my grandmother Maryann?”

“Pfff, and why wouldn’t I know her? We were second cousins. Grew up next door to each other. I’ve known Maryann since we were both in leading strings. She was Maryann Stutz then. She married some boy from Wisconsin and went off to live with his family.”

Rebecca took a step closer. Someone passed her a plate of food. She placed it on the small table beside Lovina’s chair and arranged a knife, fork and spoon where the elderly woman could reach it. “You and Mari’s grandmother are cousins?”

Lovina scowled at her. “Didn’t I just say we were? Second cousins, if you want to slice the ham close to the bone, but blood kin, all the same. So this skinny little thing from Wisconsin is family. Not only on my side, but on the Yoder side, as well. Double kin to you and your sisters. Maryann’s people settled in the valley two hundred years ago.” The beady eyes turned on Mari. “Glad you’ve had the sense to finally come to Delaware. Did you bring your grandmother?”

Mari shook her head. “She passed on.”

“I’m sorry to hear it, even if she has gone on to her reward. You have the look of Maryann, child. Welcome to my home.” Lovina turned abruptly to inspect her plate of food. “Stingy with the gravy, weren’t you, Rebecca?”

Mari could see the corners of Rebecca’s mouth twitching with amusement. “Anna made your plate,
Grossmama
. Just the way you like it. And you said not to give you too much gravy because you needed to leave room for cake.”

With the older folks’ and the children’s plates made, everyone else got into line to help themselves at the buffet table. “Was my grandmother really a cousin to Lovina?” Mari whispered in Rebecca’s ear when they were far enough away that there was no chance of Lovina overhearing.

Rebecca shrugged. “She must have been.
Grossmama
gets confused about a lot of things, but never about family ties. Wait until our
mam
and Sara hear. They’ll be delighted.” Rebecca hugged her again. “And that makes us cousins, too. Welcome to the family.”

“Thank you,” Mari managed. She was almost too astonished to speak.
Family.
She had
family
here in Seven Poplars. It didn’t matter that the connections were old ones. Among the Amish any relative was important. If Lovina was right, she was a cousin to Hannah’s daughters and to Sara, as well. It didn’t seem possible. She’d thought that she and Zachary were alone in the world, but here were more relatives than she could count.

“I think
Grossmama
likes you,” Rebecca said as they joined the food line.

“You think so?” Mari asked. “How can you tell?”

Rebecca laughed. “Oh, if she didn’t, she’d have let you know. She and Aunt Martha both have a way of laying all their wash on the table.” She shook her head. “The good thing about being related to
Grossmama
is that Addy’s your cousin.” She rolled her eyes. “And the bad thing is that Aunt Martha is bound to try and find fault with you.”

“Oh, she’s already done that.” Mari hesitated, not sure if she should tell Rebecca about her and James at Byler’s, but she had a feeling that even if Martha hadn’t shared with everyone in Seven Poplars yet, it was only a matter of time before the word spread. She kept her voice low. “James gave me a ride home from work the other day and we stopped at Byler’s for a few things.”

Rebecca grabbed Mari’s forearm, amusement on her face. “And she caught you two alone together?”

“Eating ice cream,” Mari confessed.

Rebecca giggled.

“But we were just sitting at the picnic tables. We weren’t doing anything wrong.”

Rebecca gave a wave of dismissal. “Pay her no mind. She has this idea that she needs to monitor all the couples in the county. Some of the young folks are calling her ‘the courting police.’”

The line had moved forward, and it was almost their turn to fill their plates. “James and I aren’t a couple,” she whispered. “I don’t understand why everyone keeps saying that. I’m not even Amish.”

Rebecca waggled her finger. “According to Lovina, you are.”

Mari sighed. “You know what I mean. I haven’t lived this life in a very long time. I haven’t been baptized.”

Rebecca took Mari’s hand and looked into her eyes. “Do you want to be baptized?” she asked softly.

“I don’t know,” Mari whispered. “I think maybe yes, but...” She closed her eyes for a moment. “Rebecca, I’m so confused. If I’m honest with myself, I think James and I—” She exhaled.
James and I what?
“I don’t want to take this step for the wrong reasons. I need someone to tell me what to do.”

Rebecca squeezed her hand and let it go. “No one can tell you what’s right for you. You need to pray about it. And you need to talk to the bishop. Maybe he can help you figure out where God is leading you.”

“You think so?” Mari asked, wanting desperately to believe her. “He’d be willing to talk to me?”

“Absolutely. Now turn around—” she pointed over Mari’s shoulder “—and grab a piece of fried chicken for me before it’s all gone.”

* * *

The thought that the Yoders were family warmed Mari throughout the evening, and she was still smiling when James brought the buggy to Anna’s back door. “We don’t need to wait for Zach. He’s spending the night here with Johanna’s boys.” She made a face. “
Ach
, I hadn’t thought this through. I hope this won’t cause talk, you taking me home.”

“No worry,” he said, walking around to adjust a buckle on Jericho’s harness. “Everyone in Seven Poplars has already heard we’ve been to Byler’s for ice cream alone. Martha told Anna Yoder that we were secretly walking out together.” He winked at her. “We’ll be doing Martha a service, giving her something else to talk about.”

She smiled hesitantly back at him, trying to read his face. She knew, of course, that he was joking, but was there something more in his voice? Did he wish it were true? Or was that just her own wishful thinking?

Mari made no move to climb into the buggy; instead, she watched by the light of the gas lamppost as James unbuckled Jericho’s harness to make an adjustment. She hadn’t been kidding when she’d told Rebecca that she was confused. She was
so
confused. About everything. About how she felt about God and the church she’d grown up in. About how she felt about James. About her whole life and where she wanted to go from here. She’d come to Seven Poplars thinking she’d stay a few months, then get a nice trailer for Zachary and her. But now she didn’t want that. She wanted more. She wanted to belong to a community. She even thought that she wanted a family of her own: a husband, more children.