A Match For Addy (The Amish Matchmaker Book 1) (10 page)

Addy thought about Caleb as she followed Ellie. She was still certain he hadn’t been the man for her, but
had
she given him a chance? “Really?”

“Really. You’re smart and funny and a good friend.” Ellie glanced over her shoulder as they reached the staircase. “And you may as well get used to the idea that you’ll have your choice of suitors, because Sara would never have taken you on if she didn’t believe in you.”

Chapter Eight

G
ideon guided the big sorrel mule around the long shed to the woodpile. Jasper was strong, smart and willing, and he pulled the oak log as if it weighed no more than a hundred-pound bag of feed, although it was many times heavier. His father had used horses for the farm work, but he was finding a new respect for Sara’s mules each time he asked a new task of them.

Coming to Kent County and Sara Yoder’s home had been his mother’s idea, heartily endorsed by his father. They thought it was high time he settled down with a wife and a houseful of little woodchoppers and dishwashers. Why his
dat
would subscribe to such a notion when he hadn’t married until he was well into his thirties, Gideon didn’t know. Likely, his mother was to blame. He loved his mother—he adored her. But that didn’t mean that he would dance to her tune like a wooden puppet on strings. A man had a right to make decisions for himself, and he would not be pushed or dragged into matrimony until he was good and ready.

That said, why was it that the time with Sara—with all these new and comely young women surrounding him—wasn’t quite as much fun as he’d expected? He liked the new girls he’d met. The past two weeks, since Joseph had joined the household, had been packed with good times. He and Joseph had attended church service the past two Sundays, once here in Seven Poplars and once over in Rose Valley. Attending services somewhere every Sunday had been his idea. He’d explained to Joseph that the best way to meet girls was after worship, when there was food and conversation, and everyone was in the best of moods. Joseph had gone along with the idea because he was eager to find a wife.

And Sundays weren’t the only days when a man could find a little fun. He and Joseph had taken part in a softball game on the Seven Poplars’ schoolhouse playground, boys against girls, a singing at another church district and spent an evening bowling with Thomas, Menno and Titus in Dover. He’d spent the previous Saturday with Charley Byler, Thomas, Menno and Titus roofing an elder couple’s house. And he’d found time to visit Spence’s Sale and Auction twice, sampling the excellent sausage, cold cuts, cheese and scrapple for sale there. At Spence’s he’d managed to meet several attractive young women who came down from Lancaster to work in the food stands.

Gideon had come to Delaware for the summer, expecting the people to be like sausage without sage compared to being at home with his circle of pals and cousins in Wisconsin. Instead, he’d found himself pleasantly surprised. He considered himself to be easygoing, someone who could find friends anywhere, but he’d never thought he’d come to feel so strongly about two girls that he had no intention of ever dating—Ellie and Addy. Ellie had quickly become a confidant, almost like another sister. And Addy? Addy Coblentz... He couldn’t quite figure out what category to put that girl in.

He glanced at Addy, out in Sara’s backyard, as he soothed the mule with soft words and loosened the metal teeth of the strap that dug into the log. If she’d seen him, she didn’t let on. But how could she not? How could a woman carry rugs outside hang them over a tree branch and beat the dust out of them without noticing a fine-looking man and a big red mule not a hundred feet from her?

This was the second log he and Jasper had dragged up from the woods, and although Addy had been in the yard both times, she seemed oblivious to him. Not that he wanted her to make a fuss over him, but most girls would have seen him sweating in the hot sun and offered to bring him a glass of ice water or lemonade. Most would have found some excuse to amble over and mention a chore Sara wanted done this week or just make a remark about the weather or tonight’s rematch at the schoolhouse.

The first log he’d hauled up, Gideon had seen Addy, plain as the nose on your face, eyeballing Joseph, who had been carrying an armload of kindling wood into the kitchen. She’d noticed Joseph, all right. In fact, Addy had been paying a lot of attention to Joseph since he’d come to stay at Sara’s. Maybe Addy was simply being nice, Joseph being a newcomer and her wanting to make him feel welcome. But maybe it was because Addy found him attractive. It was no secret that, unlike him, Joseph had come expressly to find a wife. And anybody that wasn’t blind could see that the man found Addy a likely candidate to become his life partner and helpmate. But then, Joseph seemed enthusiastic about
all
the girls. He was all smiles, mumbled compliments and eager to pursue any eligible female who looked his way.

Gideon was used to girls flocking around him, fluttering their eyelashes, laughing at
his
stories, and waiting for him to ask them if he could drive them home. He’d never been vain about his looks, but he supposed he would do. His sisters were all pretty, and he inherited the same thick yellow hair, strong body and well-formed features that they all shared. Everyone told him he was a fine figure of a man...everyone but Addy and Ellie.

And Sara. You’d have to get up early in the morning to pry a compliment that wasn’t deserved out of Sara Yoder.

Sara made no mention of his height, his strength or his looks. And apparently, Addy and Ellie followed her lead. They were never critical of him, except when he and Addy were going head-to-head on subjects such as when a kitchen should be cleaned in the midst of a cooking project or how many pieces of chicken a man needed for his dinner. But both of the young women treated him more like a pesky little brother who needed to be reined in than a possible candidate for a husband.

Not that he cared.

So far, he’d never fallen head over heels for a girl, never met a woman whom he liked enough to want to spend the rest of his life with as her husband. Well, there was that one, a
maedle
that he’d almost decided to court, not because he really wanted to, but because everyone seemed to expect it. Sandra had been an excellent choice, according to all the neighbors. She was pretty, an accomplished seamstress and the daughter of a bishop. Gideon liked Sandra well enough, and he’d almost, but not quite, decided that maybe she would be the one. But then one afternoon, clearly by accident, he’d overheard her boasting to some of her girlfriends. He was no eavesdropper, but what he heard revealed something about her character that he couldn’t overlook or forgive. He’d later confronted Sandra with what she’d said, and she’d freely owned up to it. They’d parted company immediately, but, because he didn’t want her to face gossip, he allowed her to say that she’d rejected him. And he hadn’t lost any sleep over their breakup.

So the only girl he’d even come close to walking out with hadn’t confused him as much as Addy. What was it about her? She had nice eyes,
beautiful
eyes, if he was honest with himself. At first, he hadn’t thought she was pretty, not like Lilly Hershberger or Violet Troyer, but the more he saw of Addy, the more he thought she had an honest, natural beauty. A beauty that would last well into middle age. She might not be as showy as some, but there was something about her that made a man take delight in watching her.

Addy was tall for a woman, and he liked that because he didn’t have to crick his neck looking down at her. He’d always thought a couple looked out of place when one was tall and the other short. And Addy was slim as a willow sapling, which he found pleasing. But she perplexed him. Sometimes, just being near her gave him a stomach-ache. Nothing was ever easy with that one.

The trouble with Addy, and it was a big one, was that she never agreed with him. He never knew what she was going to say or why. And although she always listened politely when he gave his opinion, it was clear she preferred her own. Why she got under his skin, he didn’t know. Addy was good company; she just always kept him guessing. She didn’t act like other girls, and it was clear that she didn’t understand that he was prime husband material.

Gideon stalled, watching her, pretending to adjust Jasper’s harness, tightening a strap and then loosening it by the same number of holes. Addy kept her back to him. A breeze carried the dust from the rugs away from the house and away from where she was standing, but it also sent her
kapp
strings flying and it blew at the hem of her tattered burgundy dress so that she had to keep pushing the skirt down to keep from exposing her knees.

She seemed full of energy as she worked, tossing one rug after another over the branch and whacking it with the old metal beater. Cleaning rugs was a chore his sisters all hated, and often they’d cajoled and wheedled him into helping them. Rugs were heavy, but Addy carried them without hesitation, her back straight as a broomstick, her step lively. He had to admit he liked watching her work. He just wished she would take her eyes off Joseph as he went in and out of the house, going about his chores.

The mule snorted and laid his ears back, reminding Gideon that the animal might be as thirsty as he was. He led the animal to the edge of the farmyard and pumped fresh water into the horse trough. When Jasper had drunk his fill, Gideon pumped hard and fast, removed his straw hat and stuck his own head under the cool water and let it wash away the dust and sweat from his face and neck. He held his head under until his hair was wet through, and when he stood, water ran down his back and soaked through his shirt. He took the cup from the nail on the post, filled it and drank.

Addy still didn’t glance in his direction. He and Jasper might have been the paint on the chicken house for all the attention she paid them.

It irked him. Was she ignoring him deliberately? Was she mad at him over something?

He began to hum and then sing the chorus of a praise hymn. Addy still didn’t look at him, even when he sang louder. He knew she wasn’t deaf. He ran his fingers through his hair, wrung out the water and picked up his hat. On a whim, he perched the hat on Jasper’s head and laughed at his own joke.

No reaction came from Addy. Maybe, he thought, she was so wrapped up in watching Joseph that she really didn’t see him. He felt foolish, showing off like a schoolboy for a girl who wasn’t the least interested in him. He’d had no personal experience with such an incident, but he’d seen plenty of boys who had.

A thought struck him suddenly as he compared himself to other boys he knew. He was smitten...

Was it possible?

Was this the way other boys felt when they liked a girl?
Really
liked a girl? Confused? Inadequate? Even sick in the belly somehow?

The thought made him take his hat back from the mule and put it on his own head.

His grandfather talked about being struck by a lightning bolt the first time he’d met
Grossmama
. Gideon certainly didn’t feel as if he’d been hit by lightning, but...he
did
sometimes have a hollow sensation in his stomach and kind of a dull aching in his chest.

Love wasn’t supposed to make you sick, was it?

He looked at the mule. “Maybe you’ve pulled enough logs for one day,” he said. Taking up the reins, he guided the animal back to the barn, unhitched him and turned him out to pasture. Gideon hung up the harness and left the building, meaning to walk straight over to Addy and strike up a conversation. See if she could ignore him then. See if his wonky stomach got better or worse. But as he stepped back out into the yard, he saw that Joseph was already standing there beside her, another load of wood in his arms.

That had to be a ploy. Joseph had carried in enough wood to fill the box behind the stove twice over. Who was he fooling? He was deliberately going in and out just so he could walk by Addy and talk to her. Was it possible that Sara had already made an arrangement between the two of them? Had she successfully made a match for Addy without Gideon knowing? That would make him the fool, wouldn’t it? And if Addy favored Joseph over him, what did that say?

He wondered if he had done something to show himself in a poor light.

He glanced their way again. Not that he didn’t want both of them to be happy, but he knew Joseph pretty well. And he knew Addy. Sara might be the matchmaker, but Gideon wasn’t so sure they would make a good couple.

He eyed them. Was he misreading the situation? Was Addy just being friendly because she was such a good person? Surely, it was too soon for
real
courtship. Joseph had only been there two weeks. And he hadn’t even taken her home from a singing, or been a supper guest at Addy’s mother’s table.

His thoughts tumbling, Gideon turned away and retraced his steps in the direction of the wood lot where he’d been taking down dead trees. His stomach felt worse now than before. At the edge of the hardwoods he’d seen a patch of late-flowering dogwood. The blossoms were prettier than usual that year, and for some reason that he didn’t understand, they’d made him think of Addy in her starched white prayer
kapp
. Not fancy yard flowers, but hardy, independent, stubborn even, coming back up even after they’d been cut down.

When he reached the dogwood trees, on impulse, he took out his penknife and carefully cut off a half-dozen multiblossomed branches. He was cutting them for Addy, though he wasn’t sure why.

He hoped she wouldn’t laugh. What he hoped, he realized, was that she’d carry the bouquet home and put it in her room. That way, his gift would be the last thing she’d see before she turned out the lamp and the first thing she’d admire in the morning.

Not that he was feeling romantic toward Addy. He hadn’t changed his mind about courting anybody. It was just a matter of having her notice him. He liked her, sure, liked her a lot. Certainly as a friend. The notion that what he felt for Addy might be something more nudged at the back of his mind, but he tamped it down.

It could be that he was just looking out for a pal. Maybe he was simply making sure that Addy realized that more than one fellow might admire her. She didn’t have to take the first potential husband Sara dangled in front of her. Even if Joseph was a nice boy. She could have her pick, couldn’t she?

He went over Addy’s attributes as he walked back to the house with the bunch of flowering dogwood. She was a spirited, hard worker who had a special talent for tasting food and knowing what spices were in it, a trait he especially admired. He had it, his father and two of his sisters did, but Gideon had never known anyone outside his family to share the gift. Addy was a little plainspoken for a woman. Was that a positive or a negative? Some men might not like that, but he was different. Raised with all those sisters, he’d become used to girls who had strong opinions.