The Amish Christmas Matchmaker. Vannetta Chapman
I want you to meet Levi... Levi Lapp.”
“Hello.”
Levi tipped the cowboy hat, revealing blond hair that curled at his collar. “Howdy, ma’am.”
Howdy, ma’am?
Had she fallen asleep and landed in a Western? “I’m Annie.”
“It’s nice to meet you.”
“And you, as well. I was just fetching two glasses of lemonade. Don’t let me interrupt...”
“Levi’s from Pennsylvania—the Lancaster Plain community.”
“Ya? I imagine it’s cooler there.” She didn’t care about the weather in Pennsylvania, but she couldn’t exactly ask about the hat.
“It was cooler when I left. Now Texas, where I plan to go, is still much warmer. They have days in the eighties right through November.”
“Texas?” Annie had pulled two glasses from the cabinet. At the mention of Texas she turned toward Levi, holding the glasses and trying to remember what she was going to do with them.
He wasn’t ugly exactly, only odd looking because of the hat. He seemed to be tall and on the thin side, had a healthy tan and broad shoulders. His blue eyes twinkled as if he understood her confusion and was enjoying it.
Annie raised her chin a fraction higher. “I wasn’t aware there were Plain communities in Texas.”
“Oh, ya. There’s one in Beeville, which has been there nearly twenty years. Only a few families, though.”
“And you’re going there?” It was really none of her business. She placed the glasses on the counter and walked over to the propane-powered refrigerator. Removing the pitcher of lemonade, she held it up, but her dat waved her away, and Levi didn’t seem to notice. A dreamy expression had come over his face. It was as if he’d been transported to another place. She’d seen that look before—usually on a man who was smitten with a girl.
“Not to Beeville, to Stephenville.”
“But you said...”
“There’s no community there now, but there was. It’s where I grew up.”
“You should hear the stories he tells, Annie.” Her dat leaned back and crossed his arms. “Rolling hills, space for a family to grow, cattle and horses...”
Now she was noticing the starry look in her dat’s eyes. She’d seen that before. The last time, it was because he was dreaming of moving to a pig farm in Missouri that he’d read about in The Budget.
So that’s what this was.
Another one of his daydreams.
Nothing to worry about there. This Levi fellow would probably be gone by the end of the week.
“Gut people too,” Levi added. “Texans are quite friendly toward Plain folk.”
Her dat thumped the table. “Sounds wunderbaar. Just what I’ve been thinking of.”
Annie didn’t answer that. What was the point? This was the way Dat’s crazy ideas went. By next week he’d have moved on to raising exotic animals or trying a new crop. She loved her dat, loved everything about him, but she’d learned long ago not to worry about his wild ideas. She had a business to run—a thriving wedding-catering business here in Goshen, Indiana. The last thing she needed to concern herself with was pulling up roots and moving to Texas.
Instead, she poured the lemonade into the glasses, smiled at her dat and the Amish cowboy sitting at their table and said, “I’ll leave you two to your discussion, then. It was nice to meet you, Levi.”
“And you.”
He tipped the ridiculous hat again and smiled as if she’d said something witty. Not just a cowboy, but a charming one to boot.
Levi spoke with Alton Kauffmann another fifteen minutes. When his wife, Lily, came in and started making dinner, he knew it was time to go.
She smiled at him as she pulled what looked like the mixings of a ham casserole from the refrigerator. “It’s nice meeting you, Levi. I hope you’ll come visit again.”
“Oh, he will,” Alton said. “The bishop has come up with a work schedule for Levi, since he’s new to the area. He’ll be helping me here two afternoons a week—Wednesdays and Fridays.”
“We’ll expect you to stay for dinner on those days...if you can.”
“Danki. I appreciate that.”
Alton said something about checking on the horses, so Levi let himself out the front door. Annie was sitting in one of the rockers, writing in a journal. She didn’t immediately notice him, and so he was able to study her for a minute.
Young—she couldn’t have been over twenty.
Pretty—not that he was interested. He was here to recruit families to move to Texas, not court a woman.
Focused—she still hadn’t looked up.
Levi cleared his throat. “Pretty place you have here.”
“Ya, it is.” She finally glanced up. “Danki.”
“Reminds me a little of Texas, the way the hills stretch out to the west...”
He could still see it in his mind. He wished he had pictures to show her, but of course being Plain they didn’t usually fool around with cameras, even the ones on cell phones. He had a few Texas magazines that he’d brought with him. He’d have to remember to bring one over the next afternoon when he came to help Alton.
“You were awfully intent on what you were doing there.” He nodded toward her journal.
“Oh. I have a catering business...for Plain weddings. I keep all my notes and calendar in here.”
“That’s interesting. I’ve never met an Amish businesswoman before.”
“Really? You’ve never purchased something from a local bakery?”
“Oh, ya. Sure.”
“Or bought fresh jam?”
“Peach and strawberry.” He moved to the rocking chair beside her, placed the knitting basket that was in it on the porch floor and sat.
“All run by women entrepreneurs I would imagine... Plain women entrepreneurs. You can find them in nearly every bakery and fruit stand—not to mention quilt shops and yarn shops. They are also house cleaners and most of our teachers. Schoolhouses aren’t a business, but you get my point.”
“I do. Obviously, this is a subject you’ve given a lot of thought.”
“I have.”
She raised her chin like she had in the kitchen. It almost made him laugh. She was a spunky one.
“I’ve offended you, and I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention.”
She considered him a minute and then closed her journal. “It’s possible I’m a little sensitive about the topic, being an entrepreneur myself.”
“So tell me about your business.”
“Not much to tell. I cater weddings.”
“I thought...”
“That the family of the bride cooks the food? Ya. A lot of people think that. But when you consider that most of our weddings have over 400 guests...well, the mothers of the bride and groom have an increasingly difficult time cooking for a gathering of that size.”
“Maybe they could invite