The Amish Spinster's Courtship. Emma Miller
eyes widened. “We are not courting, Marshall Byler. I...I don’t even know if I’m riding home with you.”
“Sure you are. I already spoke with your mother and Benjamin about what time they’d like to see you home. She makes a mean strawberry-rhubarb tart, your mam.” He smacked his lips together. “I think it would put my grandmother’s to the test.”
“You asked my mother for permission to drive me home?” Lovage asked indignantly.
“Not really. I think you and I are both old enough that we don’t need permission from our elders. We know our own minds. I was just chatting with them, letting them know they’ll be seeing more of me, now that you and I are courting.”
“We are not courting!” she told him. “I don’t even know you.”
He stopped and tilted his head, looking at her. “Are we going to do this again, Lovey?” He gave an exaggerated sigh. “This is how we’re going to get to know each other. Learn each other’s likes and dislikes and such.” He frowned. “I don’t even know what your favorite color is.”
“Blue,” she said, before she caught herself.
He grinned. “Blue, of course. I would have guessed that. Blue because of my eyes.”
“Blue is not my favorite color because—” She groaned in frustration. She would have liked to have said he was conceited, but he came off not as conceited but as the most confident young man she’d ever met. Which made him the total opposite of her. Lovage was definitely not confident, particularly around men.
He started walking and she walked with him, mostly because she didn’t know what else to do. Her gaze strayed to her family gathered at the picnic tables under the hickory trees. Her mother and Benjamin had passed the baskets to her brothers. They’d be in their two buggies soon, headed home. If Lovage was going with them, she needed to say so.
“So that’s a no on staying for the games?” Marshall went on. “In that case, we can take the long way home. I have a courting buggy, you know. A cozy two-seater.” He winked at her. “I like your way of thinking, Lovey.”
“Marshall,” Lovage said, so rattled she couldn’t even speak.
Just then, two young women in pretty rose-colored dressed walked past them. They were Ginger’s age and pretty, with freckled noses and blond hair. Sisters, Lovage guessed.
“Nice game, Marshall,” the taller of the two cooed.
The other giggled. “We got here late, otherwise we could have played on your team, Marshall,” she said.
Marshall grinned. “Thanks. You should definitely join us next time.”
Lovage cut her eyes at him. These girls were openly flirting with him! And he was flirting back. And—and it made her angry because she was walking with him. He had asked her to ride home with him. And she could be fun. She could flirt.
Maybe.
Gripping the catcher’s mask in one hand, Lovage turned to Marshall. “Yes,” she blurted, so nervous that it came out too loud. Too forward.
“Ya?” He looked at her, his blue eyes twinkling in a way that made Lovage feel a little woozy.
“Yes, I’ll ride home with you. I just...” She walked away from him. “I have to talk to my parents.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He was smiling now. Smiling at her. “I need to make sure my little brother and grandmother are set to go, anyway.”
Lovage had learned from Ginger that Marshall’s grandmother lived with him and that he had been caring for her and his little brother since their father passed away a few years ago. Lovage had to admit, at least to herself, that the idea that he was being a father to his twelve-year-old brother was evidence of what a truly good man he was.
“Meet you at the picnic tables in a few minutes?” Marshall asked. “We’ll say goodbye to everyone, thank the bishop and his wife for having us and then go.”
Lovage nodded as she hurried away.
“See you in a few minutes, Lovey!” he called after her.
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