A Perfect Match (6 page)

“For keeping your promise. And for not giving up on me.” Margaret grinned as she took her jacket off the peg and left the kitchen.

Naomi smiled. But her mind kept wandering back to the conversation with Zeke. About how he wanted Naomi to go with him on the tour, and his reluctance when he agreed to Margaret showing him around. She was sure he'd asked Naomi to be polite, or possibly out of friendship. She did consider them new friends. But the way he looked at her when he said it . . . the memory made her warm inside, like drinking smooth hot chocolate on a winter day. She'd given him a list of legitimate reasons why she couldn't spare the time to go with him, but to her own ears they sounded like excuses. From the look on Zeke's face, she could tell he thought so too.

But what else could she have done? She couldn't have said yes to Zeke, not when she had made a promise to Margaret. And even though chances were slim that he and Margaret would be a love match, she didn't want to be the reason they weren't. But there was another, deeper reason she refused to go with him. Even after her talk with Margaret, even after thinking about the verse in Timothy about God not giving her a spirit of fear, she couldn't deny the truth.

She
was afraid. Not of Zeke, but of her feelings for him, feelings she was certain he didn't have. How could he? They barely knew each other. There was no such thing as love at first sight.

And even if there were, she couldn't forget what David had done to her. She couldn't take the same risk with Zeke. She had promised herself long ago that she wouldn't open her heart to anyone unless she was absolutely sure about his feelings. And right now she wasn't sure about anything.

Chapter Six

Thursday morning dawned bright and clear, with only a few cottony wisps of clouds in the blue sky. The tempera­ture was crisp, but refreshing. A perfect day for a buggy ride. Naomi stood on the front porch of the
daadi
haus
, ignoring the twist inside her that came every time she thought of Zeke and Margaret alone in the buggy. It was stupid and irrational, and she'd always considered herself practical. Being jealous of an innocent buggy ride was as far from practical as she had ever been.

By the time nine o'clock came, however, her jealous thoughts had turned to worry because Margaret had failed to show up for work. Naomi was mixing up a batch of sweet roll dough when someone knocked on the front door. She wiped her hands on her apron as she walked to the door. She opened it to see Margaret's father standing there.

He tugged on his thick salt-and-pepper beard, which hung a few inches past his chin. “I dropped by on my way to work to tell you Margaret's sick. Got a stomach bug or something.”

“Oh
nee
. I'm sorry to hear that. She seemed fine yesterday afternoon.”

“Ya
.” He gave his beard one more tug, then shrugged. “It came on all of the sudden. Just hope none of the other
kinner
get it.”

It passed through her mind that maybe Margaret was faking the illness to get out of going with Zeke. Yet now that she thought about it, Margaret had seemed unwell near the end of the day yesterday. Naomi had chalked it up to nerves. Guilt nagged at her for doubting her friend.

“She wanted me to make sure you understood that she was really sick. She threw up in my buggy this morning.” He made a face, his lips tugging down. “That's one reason why I'm late for work. Made her
geh
straight to bed after that.”

“Please tell her I hope she feels better soon. She can take tomorrow off too. I want her to get completely well.”

“I'll let her know. Have a
gut
daag
, Naomi.”

“You too.” Naomi shut the door and returned to the kitchen. The day flew by. By the end she was tired, but satisfied not only with the baking she'd gotten done but with the steady stream of sales throughout the afternoon. Still, she wouldn't want to run the bakery alone every day. Margaret's absence drove home how much Naomi needed her help.

Naomi tidied the kitchen, the rich smell of fresh baked bread still hanging in the air. She kept one ear out for Zeke's approach, and ten minutes later she heard the
clip-clop
of a horse's hooves outside. She slipped on her navy blue sweater and pulled it closer to her body, then went outside. Squinting in the sunlight, she recognized Chester's horse and buggy—she'd seen it enough times at her parents' house in the past couple months. Zeke was tethering the horse to the hitch when she went to him.

“Hello.” He grinned, his hazel eyes bright. “Is Margaret ready?”

Naomi breathed in the cool afternoon air. “That's what I came to tell you. She's not here.”

“Oh?”

“She's ill with the stomach flu. I'm sorry you had to drive all the way out here. I didn't have a way to let you know.”

He frowned. “That's too bad. I hope she feels better.”

“Me too.” Naomi crossed her arms over her chest. A few clouds hovered in the sky, but they didn't block the sunshine. Colorful leaves skittered across the gravel drive. A couple swirled around Zeke's ankles as the breeze kicked up. “Again, I'm sorry you wasted a trip.”

“Maybe the trip's not wasted.” He moved closer to her, a twinkle in his eyes.

•••

Since he'd agreed to let Margaret guide him around Paradise, Zeke had prayed about today. He had nothing against Margaret, but it seemed wrong of him to be spending the afternoon with her when he really wanted to be with Naomi. God would want him to keep his word and pick up Margaret today. But it wasn't fair to her that he would spend the afternoon wishing a different woman sat beside him.

He didn't need wisdom for the drive. He needed help to figure out what to do about Naomi. He couldn't ignore his attraction to her. Now another opportunity had presented itself, and he wasn't about to let her put him off again. Though he could see she was going to try.

“I promise we won't be gone long.” He moved to stand in front of her. She was only a few inches shorter than he, and he could easily look into her pretty brown eyes, which right now were darting back and forth as she thought about her answer.

“I need to work on Priscilla's quilt.”

“You could bring it with you.”

“It's not easy to sew while riding in a buggy.”

“Oh,” he said. “I suppose not. But we won't be gone long. I promise.”

She turned around and looked at the
daadi
haus
. “I appreciate your offer, but I have too much work to do.”

His shoulders drooped. She was giving him excuses, and they both knew it. Time to be straightforward. “Naomi, please. Take a ride with me.”

She looked at him, uncertainty in her eyes. “But what about Margaret?”

“This isn't about Margaret.” He took a step closer to her, lest she misunderstand him again. “This is about us. About me getting to know you better.” He heard her breath catch, and she stepped away, her eyes filled with indecision.

“Zeke, I don't know what to say.”

“Say
ya
. Just for a little while. Half an hour, that's all I ask.”

She didn't answer him right away. As the seconds ticked by, he knew he'd missed his chance.

Then she blew out a long breath. “All right.”

His brow arched. “What?”

“I said all right. But just for a little while. Let me run inside and get my coat.”

He had no idea why she'd changed her mind, but he wasn't about to question it. She returned, slipping her arms into her navy blue coat as she headed toward him. With a sweeping arc of his arm, he gestured toward the buggy. “Your chariot awaits.”

She laughed. “That's a funny looking chariot.”

“I hear the bishop in these parts frowns on real chariots,” he quipped. “A buggy will have to do.”

“
Gut
thing you know how to drive one.” Her lips curved into a smile, and she climbed into the buggy, then slid to the other side of the seat.

He jumped in, pleased that she was playing along. If he'd made that comment to some of the women back home they would have given him a weird look, or worse, not understood he was joking. For some reason most of the women he'd been fixed up with in the past were all very serious. Naomi had a nice sense of humor.

As he picked up the reins he said, “Where should we
geh
first?”

She steepled her thin fingers under her chin. He stared at her hand for a moment, remembering the soft feel of it. He pulled his gaze away as he yanked back his thoughts.
Tread
carefully. Don't scare her off
.

After a moment she spoke. “Are you hungry?”

“Are you cooking?”

“
Nee
, I'm not cooking.” She chuckled. “But there's a great restaurant in Paradise. We call it the Pantry. It's been around for a while. You haven't eaten there yet, have you?”

He shook his head. “Nope. Been getting fattened up by all the great cooking my
aenti
feeds me.”

“You won't be disappointed with the food here, I promise. It's about twenty minutes away.”

“Hmmm.” He smirked. “Then we'll be gone at least two hours. Sure you can spare the time?” He wiggled his eyebrows, making sure she knew he was teasing.

She opened her mouth, then shut it. Sheepishly she said, “I decided the quilt could wait.”

Zeke smiled.
Danki, Lord
. “I'm glad you did.”

•••

When Zeke and Naomi entered the Pantry, she saw Rose sitting at the table in the back corner of the restaurant, sipping a cup of tea and talking to her
aenti
Tabby.

“Before we sit down, there's someone I want you to meet.”

“Sure.”

He followed her as she went to Rose's table. Rose smiled at her and gave Zeke a welcoming nod.

“Rose, this is Zeke. Chester's cousin. From Middlefield, Ohio.”

“Nice to meet you,” Zeke said.

“Nice to meet you too. Are you enjoying your time in Paradise?”

Zeke looked at Naomi and grinned. “Very much.”

Against her will, Naomi's face reddened. Hopefully Rose and her aunt didn't notice.

Zeke glanced over his shoulder at an empty table behind them. “Why don't I find us a seat, Naomi?”

As soon as he was gone, Rose's smile widened. “You're blushing.”

“It's a little warm in the restaurant.” Naomi pressed her teeth against her bottom lip.

“I don't think it's warm. Do you,
Aenti
?”

Aenti
Tabby shook her head. “Not at all.”

Rose gestured for Naomi to lean toward her. When she did, Rose said, “I approve.”

“It's not what you think. We're just having supper.”

“If that's what you want to call it, fine by me.” Rose sat back. Her gaze went to Zeke, who had found a table. She nodded. “He's waiting for you.”

“Because he's hungry.”

“Whatever you say, Naomi.” Rose smiled again, then hid it behind her menu.

Naomi shook her head and joined Zeke at the table.

A few seconds later the waitress, a young
Englisch
girl wearing several silver bangles, showed up. She pulled a pencil and pad out of the pocket of her apron. “What can I get for you two today?”

Zeke flipped open the menu. He scanned it, then looked at the waitress. “I have no idea. What do you recommend?”

Naomi hid her frown behind her menu as Zeke flashed the waitress a charming smile. Both she and Margaret had been on the receiving end of that same smile. The man could charm a hungry horse out of its oats. The waitress's shy smile and pink cheeks testified to that. Now Naomi wished she had stood firm and not gone with him. She already felt like she was betraying Margaret.

The waitress leaned over Zeke's shoulder and pointed at the menu with the eraser end of her pencil. “If you're really hungry, I suggest the meat loaf platter. It's a Pantry specialty.”

“Then that's what I'll get.” He shut the menu and handed it to the young woman. Then he looked at Naomi. “Have you decided?”

“I'll just have a piece of cherry pie. With ice cream.” She looked up to see the waitress still looking at Zeke, even though his eyes were trained on Naomi. When she didn't respond, Naomi cleared her throat.

“Oh, sorry.” The young woman scribbled on her pad. “Peach pie and whipped cream. Got it.”

“No, I said cherry pie and ice cream. Two scoops.” Suddenly she was craving something sweet, and a lot of it. She handed the waitress the menu.

“I'll bring your drinks and bread out in a minute,” she said, looking at Zeke again.

When the waitress left, Naomi glanced down at her lap, disappointed with herself. After what happened with David, she worked hard to keep jealous thoughts at bay. She'd been thrilled at Hannah's marriage. She'd brought Chester and Priscilla together. But in the course of a few days Zeke Lapp, whom she barely knew, made her practically teem with jealousy.
Lord, for
give me
.

“Naomi? Is something wrong?”

She looked at him, seeing the concern in his eyes. Genuine concern, which broke through her envy like a stone tossed into a still pond. “
Nee
, there's nothing wrong. I'm fine. Just ready for that pie.”

“With two scoops.” He smiled. “I like pie too, especially homemade. I usually make black raspberry pie in the summer.”

“You bake too?”

“
Ya
. Had to learn, living on my own for so long. I'm not a great cook, but what I make is edible. Nothing like your cooking, though. That's in a class by itself.”

He knew the right thing to say.

“Why have you never married?”

“What?”

Naomi bit her bottom lip. The question had just flown out of her mouth, and she'd do anything to reel it in. Now she understood how awkward Margaret must have felt the other night. “Never mind. It's none of my business.”

“I don't mind answering. I've got nothing to hide.” He put his hands on the table, palms up.

“Here you go.” The waitress appeared with their sodas and a basket of fresh bread. She looked at Zeke. “Can I get you anything else?”

“Nee.”
After the waitress left, he pushed the basket toward Naomi. She shook her head, and he grabbed a slice.

“Where were we?” he said, spooning a healthy amount of thick peanut butter spread on the soft slice. “Oh
ya
 . . . you wanted to know why I never married.”

She waved her hand at him. “I don't need to know—”

“I think you do.”

He stared at her with such intensity, she couldn't pull her gaze away.

“The reason I haven't married is simple. I haven't found the right woman. God has a special
frau
in mind for me, and when He's ready, He'll bring us together.” He took a bite of the bread, then set the slice on his plate. “You don't seem surprised,” he said when he finished chewing.

“Of course I'm not. Isn't that what we're supposed to do? Wait on God and His timing?”

“Not everyone does that. Some people marry for the wrong reasons.”

The look on his face told her he was speaking from personal experience. “Did that happen to someone you know?” she asked. She'd already pried once, she might as well pry all the way.

He nodded, looking down at his bread. “My parents. Whatever love they had in their marriage left a long time ago.”