A Perfect Amish Match. Vannetta Chapman
your bruder was refunded his money?”
“He was.”
“What’s your name?”
“Noah. Noah Graber.” Instead of looking at her as he spoke, he stared out over the porch railing at her pitiful herd of sheep in the adjacent pasture—if you could call six a herd.
“And you live here in Goshen?”
“I do now. Just moved back.” He didn’t offer any further explanation about that, but he did add, “My youngest bruder, the one who was helping me, is Samuel.”
“I know Samuel, as well as Justin.”
“Seems everyone knows everyone around here.”
“Justin Graber and Sarah Kauffmann. They were married last fall.”
Dawning washed across Noah’s face.
It was almost comical.
“You’re the matchmaker?” He was still standing, and now he glanced at her before looking at his hands, the porch floor, even his horse and buggy. “I recognized your name, but I didn’t remember...that you, well, put Justin and Sarah together.”
Olivia Mae waved away that thought. “It was obvious that those two were a perfect match for each other.”
“Wasn’t obvious to Justin or Sarah. They’d known each other all their lives and never even thought of courting, to hear him tell it.”
She’d dropped her gaze to the box and was again focused on it. To see it after all these years, it made her feel young again, made her feel seventeen. But it also reminded her of the painful times that came during and after that year. The deaths of her parents, moving to live with her brothers and then the problems with her grandparents. She could have never imagined then how her mammi and daddi would come to depend on her, and how inadequately prepared she was for the changes in their health. If she didn’t find a way to stem their drastic decline, she knew it would mean a move, and she was convinced that would be the worst possible thing for them.
“I missed the wedding,” Noah continued. “I was living in Pennsylvania at the time. Seems I’ve missed a lot of things around here, but to meet an Amish matchmaker... Well, I wouldn’t have ever guessed that, and I wouldn’t have thought she’d look like you.”
There was something in Noah Graber’s voice that pulled her attention away from the wooden box and to his eyes, which were a warm dark brown, like the best kind of chocolate.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“What’s what supposed to mean?”
“What am I supposed to look like?”
“Well—”
“Old, maybe. Using a cane. Peering at you over my glasses and shaking my knitting needle at you.” She’d come across the stereotype before. She should be used to it by now. “Yes, I’m a matchmaker. Is that something you’re interested in?”
“Me? Nein.” He shifted uncomfortably on his feet and jerked the straw hat off his head. She wasn’t surprised to see that his brown hair curled at the collar. Over six feet, tall as a reed and brown curly hair to boot? Noah Graber could be a cover model for an Amish romance book. As she waited for him to explain why he wasn’t interested in dating, a blush crept up his neck. He was easily embarrassed, too? He’d be perfect for Jane, or possibly Francine.
“I wouldn’t think that you would need a matchmaker. No doubt you have women following you around at the auction.” She motioned toward the other rocker.
He shrugged and perched on the edge of the seat. “Actually I’m single—happily single.”
“Is that so?”
“It is.”
“And why would that be?”
“Can’t see as that’s your business.”
Olivia Mae laughed. “Fair enough. It’s true that I enjoy setting up dates for those who haven’t found the love of their life.”
Noah shook his head in disbelief. “You believe in that?”
“Ya. Don’t you?”
“Never really thought about it.”
She doubted that was true, but she didn’t call him on it. Instead she returned her attention to the box. Running her fingertips across the top, she marveled at the way just holding it took her back to a simpler time, an easier time.
“My daddi made it for me. He was quite good with small wood projects, when he was younger. Now...” She pulled in a deep breath. “He gave it to me when I came to visit one summer. I left it at their home, thinking I would be back the next year. But they moved and things...changed.”
“I’m surprised it ended up at auction.”
How could she explain what Mammi and Daddi had been through the last few years? She couldn’t, and why would she try? This stranger wasn’t interested in the particular burdens of their life, so instead she changed the subject.
“I don’t remember seeing you at church.”
“We didn’t meet this past week, and I only moved back the Wednesday before that.”
“And already working at the auction house?”
“Ya. It’s the reason I moved here. They needed another auctioneer so I thought I’d come back home.”
Olivia Mae searched his eyes for a moment, long enough that he began to squirm again. There was something he wasn’t saying, but she had no reason to press him. As he’d pointed out, he wasn’t interested in being matched and beyond that she was simply being nosy.
“Welcome to Goshen, then, though it sounds as if you grew up here.”
“I did.”
“If it’s been more than a few years, I expect it’s changed a bit since then.”
“Yes and no.”
A man of few words. Yes, he would match perfectly with Jane Bontrager. She was a real chatterbox, which would balance them out. She was tall, too—not as tall as Noah Graber, but tall enough that he wouldn’t feel awkward. Was that why he’d never married? Did he tower over every woman he met?
He pinched the bridge of his nose, as if the entire conversation was painful to him. “Some things always stay the same—especially in Amish communities.”
“Yes. I suppose so.” She smiled, stood and said, “Danki very much for bringing this out to me.”
Noah seemed to realize he was being dismissed. He nodded once and headed down the porch steps when there was a clatter of dishes inside the house.
Olivia Mae was already moving toward the door.
A woman shouted, and then a man hollered something in return.
“Do you need help?”
“Nein. We’re fine.” Which was categorically not true, but she wasn’t about to reveal as much to a man she barely knew, and one that probably wouldn’t last in town long enough to see the summer flowers.
She hurried inside, allowing the screen door to bang shut behind her. Matchmaking was good and fine, but it was what she did to relax. Her priority was the two dear old people who now looked up at her in surprise—as if she’d popped in from thin air.
“I’ve got that, Mammi.”
“Turned my back on him for one minute...” Mammi had a dish towel and was attempting to clean up the coffee that had spilled on his shirt. The mug sat on the floor next to Daddi’s chair.
Olivia