The Amish Christmas Matchmaker. Vannetta Chapman
immediately because the actual answer was complicated. He certainly didn’t want to go into his family situation with this young woman he’d known less than twenty minutes. And how could he explain how he’d vowed never to return to this area when he was still just a boy? Goshen did not hold good memories for him, but here he was. He decided to go with the simplest, though less complete answer. “My family knows Simon King. He lived with us in Texas, and he’s interested in possibly returning.”
“Mamm mentioned you were staying with Simon. We call him Old Simon because there are two others in the congregation—Tall Simon and Young Simon. Young Simon is older than Tall Simon but younger than Old Simon.” She laughed and then added, “You know how Plain communities are.”
“I do, and he’s not that old.”
“I’m just surprised he’d be interested in moving at his age.”
“I suppose that since his wife died, he’s a bit lonely. We stayed in contact over the years. When I mentioned that I was raising up a group to start a new community, he was interested.”
“How many families do you need?”
“A dozen is the usual number, with at least one church leader.”
“And that would be Old Simon?”
“It would.”
“How many families do you have so far?”
“There’s myself, Simon and possibly your dat.”
Annie covered her mouth with her hands. It took Levi a minute to realize she was laughing. It irritated him, though he couldn’t have said why.
“What’s so funny?”
“I’m sorry.” She pulled her lips into a straight line, and stared down at her lap, smoothing out her apron with her fingertips. Obviously, she was making a huge effort to rein in her amusement.
“No, tell me.”
“It’s only that Dat...”
“Yes?”
“I hope he hasn’t raised your hopes. Mamm says he likes to dream, that it’s entertainment for him like some people might read a book. It’s harmless enough. We’ve all learned not to take him too seriously in that regard.”
Levi stood and pushed his cowboy hat more firmly on his head, but Annie was now on a roll.
“Once he was going to move us to Canada...there are Amish communities there, you know.”
“I’m aware.”
“Another time, it was a pig farm he was going to purchase, in Missouri, and then there was his idea to raise camels. He checked out a lot of books from the library for that one.”
“I would think you’d show more respect for your dat. It seems that you don’t take what’s important to him very seriously.”
“You’re an expert on my dat now?”
“I can tell when a man has a dream.”
“Like you?”
“Ya, like me.”
Annie stood as well and moved a step closer. She gazed up into his face. She looked at him in the same way his mother often had, and it only served to increase his irritation even more. There were always some who were closed-minded, who couldn’t see the possibilities of a fresh start in a new place.
“I don’t mean to be rude, Levi. However, if you’re counting on my family moving to Texas, you should know that’s not going to happen.”
Instead of contradicting her, he said, “I’m glad I’ll have plenty of time to speak to your family about this.”
“Speak to them?”
“Since I’ll be working here two days a week.”
“You’re going to be working here?”
“It’s nice to meet you, Annie. Perhaps we can continue this conversation tomorrow. Your mamm has invited me to stay for dinner.”
She crossed her arms and scowled at him as he turned and made his way down the porch steps.
Levi gave her a backward wave, but he didn’t look back.
He wanted to. Annie Kauffmann made a pretty picture standing on the front porch with fall leaves pooled at her feet and a cat rubbing against her legs. He didn’t allow himself a last glance, though. He knew all about naysayers, people who said it couldn’t or shouldn’t be done. He’d been stopped by them long enough.
This time, he had a plan.
If things went well, he’d be in Texas by spring.
Annie managed to avoid Levi on Wednesday when he came to help her father in the fields. They owned a mere eighty acres, but her dat used every bit of it. He adamantly believed in varying the crops, which increased the amount of work but also improved the harvest. The hay wouldn’t be ready to cut for another two months. The sorghum would need to be harvested by the end of October, soybeans after that, and winter wheat had to be planted as well.
There was always work to be done on a farm.
It wasn’t unusual for their bishop to arrange for young Amish men from out of town to find some work, and it was true that her father needed help, but she wasn’t sure Levi Lapp was the kind of help he needed. Like the first day he’d spent time with Levi, her dat spent Wednesday evening asking enthusiastic questions about Texas over dinner.
“Big ranches there?”
“Some are. The King Ranch is bigger than the state of Rhode Island.”
“You don’t say.”
“Many are smaller family places, though. Like we would have.”
Annie and her mamm shared a look, but her mother merely shook her head. They’d been through this before. It was best to let the dream run its course. If this went the way of her dat’s other ideas, he’d move on to something else before the end of the week. So she endured dinner with Levi and tried to simply nod and appear polite. Had he swallowed an entire encyclopedia of Texas trivia? She couldn’t resist commenting when he laughingly told them about the Texas state mammal.
“They have three, actually. The longhorn is the large state mammal. The Mexican free-tailed bat is the flying state mammal. And the nine-banded armadillo is the small state mammal. Those are quite a sight to see. They can run up to thirty miles an hour...”
“Why would they need to run for an hour?”
Levi seemed to consider the question seriously, and Annie was suddenly sorry she’d asked it.
“I suppose they wouldn’t. My point is they’re fast, and they can jump straight up too. I’ve seen them jump...” he held a hand level with the table. “At least that high. It’s something else.”
Now she was irritated. In truth, she’d been irritated since he’d sat down and started spouting facts and figures. “Aren’t they just large rats with shells?”
“More like an anteater or a sloth.”
“Who would choose that for their state mammal?”
“Texans would. In fact, they did in 1927.” He said all of this slowly, as if she were a child and couldn’t grasp the concept.
Her mother jumped in and started talking about the possibility of rain, and Annie soon lost track of the conversation. Thinking back over what she’d said as she washed the dishes, she was rather proud of herself. At least she hadn’t laughed at him. She hadn’t