A Perfect Match (7 page)

“But they're still together.”

“
Ya
, because the church says they have to be.” When she frowned, he waved his hand. “Don't misunderstand me. I believe that marriage is for life. That's why it's so important the woman I marry be the right one.”

“How will you know?”

He looked at her, and his hazel eyes, with their vivid hues of brown, green, and gold, darkened. “I'll feel it in my heart.” Then he smiled. “So what about you? I'm surprised you haven't married yet.”

“I guess my reason is the same as yours. I haven't found the right one.” But her motivations were different. She hadn't prayed to God for the right
mann
to come along. Instead she kept herself busy, too busy to think—and sometimes even pray—about much of anything. It had worked after David left, and it continued to work for her now.

The waitress showed up with Zeke's meat loaf and her pie. They both bowed their heads and said a silent prayer. Naomi watched as he dug into the food with great enthusiasm, much as he had at her house. After he finished chewing a huge bite of gravy-smothered mashed potatoes she asked, “What do you think of the food?”

“Gut
.
”
His gaze met hers. “But not as
gut
as yours.”

She blushed, unsure whether he was speaking the truth or being polite. While she preferred homemade food, she thought the meals at the Pantry were delicious. She decided he was being his usual charming self and pressed her fork into the flaky crust of her cherry pie.

As they finished their meal, they fell into easy conversation. She made sure to avoid anything personal, and he seemed fine with that. When he polished off his meat loaf supper, he looked at her half-eaten pie. She'd been talking so much she hadn't paid much attention to it.

“You going to finish that?” he said, a twinkle in his eye.

“Nee
.
”
She pushed the plate forward. “You can have the rest if you want. Although I'm surprised you still have room for it. I don't know where you put all that food.”

He took the plate from her and started on the pie. “Two stomachs. At least that's what
mei
mudder
used to say.”

Naomi laughed. “I'm thinking she might be right.”

Zeke finished the pie just as the waitress came over. She pulled out her order pad again. “Can I get you anything else?”

He shook his head. “No thanks, but everything was delicious. Give the cook my compliments.”

The waitress smiled. Her bangles jingled as she peeled their ticket off the pad and placed it on the table. As she'd done since they arrived, she ignored Naomi and looked at Zeke. This time Naomi couldn't blame her. She was finding him a bit irresistible herself.

“You have a nice evening,” the girl said, giving Zeke one last look.

Naomi reached for the ticket, but he snatched it away. “My treat.”

“At least let me pay for my dessert.”

He shook his head. “Wouldn't hear of it. Consider it part of my thanks for giving me a tour.”

“You didn't have much of a tour,” she said, sliding out of the booth. “Just from my
haus
to the Pantry.”

He stood and took a step toward her. “Maybe we can fix that. Can I pick you up on Monday evening? You can show me around the rest of Paradise.”

She bit her bottom lip. Normally she had her cooking class, but she had postponed her classes until after Priscilla's wedding. Technically she was free. But there was still so much more to do to help with the wedding—

“If you're busy, I understand.”

But she could see the disappointment in his eyes.
There's nothing wrong with showing a friend around
. And Margaret probably wouldn't be well enough. Before she could talk herself out if it she said, “All right. I'll be happy to show you around Paradise.”

He smiled in response, and her pulse jumped.

The trip back home seemed to take only seconds. When she got out of the vehicle, Zeke met her at the other side and walked her to her door. “What time should I pick you up?”

“About six o'clock?” She questioned herself even while she answered him. She shouldn't be running around Paradise with Zeke. Then she looked at him, taking in his handsome face and mischievous grin. And suddenly she realized—she wouldn't cancel.

She expected him to leave, but instead he glanced down, shuffling his foot against the gravel, his smile dimming. Then he looked at her again, his expression more serious than she'd ever seen it. “Naomi, I need to be honest with you.”

“All right.” She'd never suspected he'd been dishonest. A sudden, familiar pang of betrayal ran through her. She'd never suspected David would betray her either.

“I like you.” He closed the distance between them. “I mean, I really, really like you.”

Her breath caught in her throat as his words scrambled her brain, making her forget David, forget everything on her mile-long to-do list. He shouldn't be speaking to her like this. Or looking at her with such genuine care. Yet his words, his tone, reached a part of her that had died three years ago. The strength of the emotion rendered her speechless.

“So when I asked you to take me around Paradise, I was asking you for a date. I just wanted to make that clear.” He gazed into her eyes. “If you don't want to do that, then let me know now. I'll walk away and leave you alone.”

Her chest tightened. She'd convinced herself they were friends, but she couldn't deny a part of her wanted more. Yet to have more she'd have to open herself up again, and she wasn't sure she could. “I . . . I don't know . . .”

He leaned toward her. His proximity caused her confusion—along with something more. “At least you didn't say
nee
right off the bat. I'll take that as a
gut
sign.”

Chapter Seven

“Sure that's straight?”

Zeke looked at Chester, then at the row of kitchen cabinets on the wall in front of him. “The level says it is. I wouldn't eyeball something like that.”

“I know. I didn't mean it that way.” Chester sighed, then moved to sit on the blue ice chest in the middle of the room.

Zeke turned and looked at his weary cousin. “Tough day at work?”

“
Ya
. That and worrying about getting the
haus
built.” He looked up. “Didn't realize getting married would be this stressful.”

“Cast your cares upon the Lord, and He will sustain you.” Zeke grinned. “You're not casting enough, cousin.”

“I'm casting plenty, believe me. But lately those cares have been multiplying faster than I can get rid of them. I just want everything perfect for Priscilla.”

“I know you do.” Zeke leaned against the counter he'd installed earlier that day while Chester was at work. He'd had to do the job twice, thanks to Naomi ruining his concentration. Again. Not that he minded. But he wasn't telling Chester any of that. He seemed worried enough as it was. “Tell me something. Do you think Pricilla will love you any less if things aren't perfect?”

“Of course not. But I want her to be happy. She's so excited about getting married. I don't want to disappoint her.”

Zeke nodded. “Well, maybe I'm not the best person to give advice about marriage, but seems to me you're gonna disappoint her somewhere down the road. Probably more than once. She'll disappoint you too. It's how you handle the disappointment that will make your marriage, not what happens on your wedding day.”

Chester stood. “Sounds like something
mei
daed
would say. So how did you get so wise in the ways of marriage? Being a lifetime bachelor and all.” His cousin's tone was genuine, not mocking.

“Sometimes you learn a lot from paying attention.” He remained silent about the state of his parents' marriage. Zeke was pretty sure his cousin's family didn't have any idea that his parents barely spoke to each other. They always put up a good front for family and friends. Home . . . well, that was a different story. He picked up one of the cabinet doors and started screwing it on. “I don't plan on being a lifetime bachelor, by the way.”

“Oh?” Chester grabbed another door and got to work. It was dark outside, but the gas lamp they'd set up in the middle of the kitchen cast plenty of light. “You've got your eye on someone back home,
ya
?”

“Not exactly.” He pushed the door back and forth, making sure the hinges worked and didn't squeak. Satisfied, he put on the opposite door.

“Someone here, then?”

When Zeke didn't answer, Chester asked, “Who? You haven't been here that long. There's only been one
maedel
I know that you've met—” His cousin stopped working. “Naomi?”

Heat suffused Zeke's face. He wasn't used to talking about such things with Chester. Or with anyone.

“It's Naomi.” Chester grinned. “You could do a lot worse.”

Zeke looked at him. “What do you mean by that?”

Chester held up his hands, gripping the Phillips screwdriver in one of them. “
Nix
. I just meant that Naomi's a nice
maedel
. I can see why you like her.”

Zeke hadn't realized he'd been that obvious. Although telling Naomi straight out that he liked her qualified as pretty obvious. He recalled her reaction, a mix of surprise and uncertainty, and, if he wasn't mistaken, a little distrust. That bothered him more than anything. Being upfront with her made her suspicious. At least she hadn't rejected his request for a date outright. Somehow he would convince her that she didn't have to be wary of him. “She's smart. Confident. Not to mention pretty.”

“And you're gone.” Chester chuckled. “You sound like I did when I fell for Priscilla.” He checked the door the same way Zeke did and nodded. “So when's the wedding?”

“Hold up. I haven't gotten a date with her yet.”

“Then ask her.”

“I did.” Zeke put down the screwdriver.

Chester looked at him. “She turned you down?”

“She didn't give me an answer either way.” A thought occurred to him. “She's not seeing anyone, is she?”

Chester scoffed. “Not that I know of. I can ask Priscilla to make sure. But, Zeke, Naomi's not that kind of
maedel
. If she's with someone, she'd let you know.”

“
Ya
, I figured as much.” The men went back to work, but a couple of nagging questions remained in Zeke's mind. If she was available, why wouldn't she agree to go out with him? And if she was so
against
dating him, why didn't she tell him no outright?

When they finished putting the doors on the cabinets, Chester said, “I'm calling it a night.”

“Sounds
gut
to me. I'll come back in the morning and start on the floor.” There were planks of sanded, stained oak floorboards in the brand-new barn out back.

Chester looked at his cousin. “Thank you, Zeke. I don't know how to repay you.”

“By not saying things like that.” Zeke clapped him on the shoulder.

“If you and Naomi ever need anything, let me know. I'll be there.”

Zeke shook his head. “I shouldn't have said anything. You already have us married off.”

“Of course.” Chester made a funny face. “We Lapp
mann
are impossible to resist.”

Zeke laughed. He hoped Naomi thought so.

•••

“Why can't I get these stitches straight?” Naomi looked at the curved quilt strips laid out on her kitchen table, frowning at the fabric puckering on one seam. She grabbed her seam ripper, then heard a knock on the front door. When she opened it, she saw her youngest sister standing there.

“Sarah Mae.” Naomi tamped down her frustration and opened the door wider for the little girl to come inside. She crouched down to meet Sarah Mae at eye level. “To what do I owe this surprise visit?”

“I made something for you.” Sarah Mae held out a plastic pitcher filled halfway with red juice. “Cherry Kool-Aid!”

Naomi wasn't thirsty, but she smiled at Sarah Mae and took the pitcher. She didn't want to risk Sarah Mae tripping and spilling it. “Why don't we
geh
in the kitchen, and I'll pour both of us a glass?”

“Nee
.
”
Sarah Mae patted her stomach, the pleats of her light green dress covering her rounded tummy. “I've already had my share.”

Knowing Sarah Mae, and seeing the bright red strip across her upper lip, Naomi suspected her little sister had had more than her share. “Then I'll pour myself a glass and give you the pitcher back.”

“That's okay. I made another one for everyone else.” She yawned, and Naomi noticed she wasn't wearing her small black
kapp
. Thick locks of her dark hair hung loosely from the bobby pins struggling to keep it in place.

“Does
Mamm
know you're over here? Or did she tell you to
geh
upstairs and get to bed?”

Sarah Mae looked sheepish, and Naomi had her answer. She set the pitcher on the coffee table. “Get back to the
haus
, Sarah Mae.” She grasped her little sister's shoulders and gently turned her around. “You don't want
Mamm
mad at you.”

Sarah Mae looked over her shoulder. “I wanted you to have some before it was all gone.”

“I know. And
danki
for thinking about me. Now,
geh
home.” She kissed the top of Sarah Mae's disheveled hair and gave her a gentle nudge out the door. She could only imagine what the rambunctious girl had gotten into tonight. With her mother preoccupied with wedding preparations, Sarah Mae sometimes got lost in the shuffle. Naomi made a mental note to spend some special time with her when the wedding was over.

When her sister had left, she took the pitcher and set it on the kitchen table, then sat down to figure out how to fix the quilt. She should have volunteered to bake a cake instead. She'd wanted Priscilla and Chester to have something they could enjoy for years, and possibly pass down to their children. But at the rate she was going, she'd finish it by the time they had grandchildren.

Thinking about Chester and her sister drew Zeke back into her thoughts. She had to get control of the situation with him, but she still had no idea how. Pushing him out of her mind, she focused on the quilt. She spent the next hour bent over the kitchen table, removing the stitches and carefully redoing them. She had just flattened out the fabric to inspect her work when she heard another knock on the front door. Glancing at the clock, she frowned. It was past eight thirty. Who would stop by for a visit at this hour?

She got up and answered the door, and her stomach dropped. “Hello, Zeke.”

He took off his hat and turned the battered brim in his hands. “I hope I'm not interrupting anything,” he said.

In fact, he was interrupting everything—her organized routine, her placid emotions, and for the past twenty-four hours, every facet of her life. But she couldn't just turn him away. She shook her head. “You're not. I was just working on Priscilla and Chester's quilt. Come inside.”

As he walked through the doorway behind her, she heard him sniff. “Chocolate?”

“I made some brownies earlier.” Although she wasn't emotionally prepared for him to stay, politeness overruled. “Would you like one?”

“Sure.”

The grin she was used to seeing on his face returned, and he followed her into the kitchen. She put a brownie square on a plate as he sat down at the table. “Would you like something to drink?”

“This looks interesting.” He pointed to the pitcher on the table.

“Oh.” Naomi smiled a little. “Sarah Mae's special-recipe Kool-Aid. She usually doesn't put enough sugar in, so I don't recommend drinking it with the brownie.”

“Pour me a glass anyway. Never could resist cherry Kool-Aid.”

She laughed despite herself. She poured him a small glass and joined him at the table. She started to fold up the quilt fabric when he stopped her.

“This is what you're working on?” He studied it for a moment, and she squirmed under his scrutiny. Did he notice the uneven stitching? The puckered seam? “This is going to be a beautiful quilt, Naomi.”

His compliment brought a blush to her face. She ran her hand across the soft fabric. “I don't know about that. I'll probably have to take half of it apart and redo it. Again.”

“Why? It looks fine to me.”

“Spoken like a
mann
.”

He smirked. “Are you saying that I don't know my quilts from my roofing shingles?”

She smiled. “That's exactly what I'm saying.”

“You know, living on my own for a while, I learned to do more than cook. I couldn't
geh
running to
mei
mamm
every time I ripped a seam in my pants. I learned how to manage a needle just fine. I just don't
geh
around advertising the fact.”

She hadn't thought about that before. She looked down at the quilt section again. “You really think it's okay?”

“I do. And even if it's as bad as you think it is, which it's not, Priscilla and Chester won't notice or care.”

“I know. I just want it to be perfect for them.”

He chuckled. “You sound like Chester. He was saying the same thing an hour ago at the
haus
.” He looked at her steadily. “Perfection is impossible to attain.” Then his eyes turned dark, almost smoky green in color. “Although I think you're pretty close.”

She sucked in a breath, surprised and touched by his compliment and his intense expression.

He pulled back, and his elbow knocked over the glass. Naomi yanked on the quilt and jumped up from her chair, watching helplessly as the white background fabric turned pink.