A Perfect Amish Match. Vannetta Chapman
to see you waste the best years of your life.”
“Waste them?”
“A family is a wunderbaar blessing.”
“For most, yes, it is.”
“Your bruder Justin needed a little help, and your mamm and I just want you to know that we see no shame in that.”
“Now you’re talking about Olivia Mae.”
“She’s a gut woman, and she has a real knack for putting the right people together. I was skeptical at first, too, but seeing the couples she’s matched... Well, it’s a real gift that she has.”
Fortunately their farm had come into view.
Noah’s shoulder muscles felt like two giant knots, and a headache was pounding at his temples. How could a twenty-minute ride with his parents make him so tense?
At least he was able to keep his mouth shut for the remainder of the ride. No use telling his father that he had no intention of being matched. No use pointing out the obvious—that his dating life wasn’t anyone’s business.
At least his mother hadn’t chimed in with her two cents. The last thing he needed was more pressure.
They pulled to a stop in front of the house, the lecture delivered. The evening’s chores still waited to be done—even on a Sunday. Horses still had to be fed, cows milked, goats checked. He actually looked forward to the escape of farm work, though it was not what he planned on doing for the rest of his life.
As he was helping the children out of the back seat, his mother stopped beside him, reached up and kissed him on the cheek. “Give it some thought, dear.”
He stared after her as she climbed the front porch steps, a grandchild holding on to each hand.
Life was so simple for their generation, with everything laid out in black and white. But Noah had traveled enough to learn two very important things.
He was not, nor would he ever be, a farmer.
And given his dating history, which they knew nothing about, he also wasn’t the marrying type.
The only problem would be convincing his family of that.
* * *
It took longer than Olivia Mae thought it would. Exactly ten days later, a familiar buggy pulled down their lane. She was out with the sheep, so instead of hurrying toward the house, she waved her arms over her head, hoping that Noah Graber had come to see her and not her grandparents. He turned the pretty sorrel buggy mare toward her, and pulled up next to the pasture fence. He hopped out and joined her, though she was standing on one side of the fence and he was on the other.
“Where are the rest?”
“Rest of what?”
“Rest of your sheep.”
“Oh. This is all we have.”
Noah pulled off his hat, held it up to block off the late-afternoon sun and made an exaggerated motion of counting her ewes. “Six?”
“Ya.”
“You have six sheep.”
“I do, as you’ve so accurately counted.”
“Why couldn’t the little lamb play outside?”
Olivia waited, both dreading and looking forward to the punch line.
“It was being ba-a-aaad!” As she shook her head in mock disgust, he plopped the hat back on his head and crossed his arms across the top board of the wooden fence. “I honestly don’t know a thing about sheep.”
“Though you do know a lot of jokes.”
“Tell me about your flock.”
She didn’t think he was asking for their names, though she had named them all. Instead she simply offered, “They’re Lincoln sheep.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“They’re large, as you can see. Ewes can weigh from two hundred to two hundred and fifty pounds.”
“I thought they were just fat.”
She slapped his arm. “Rams can get up to three hundred and fifty. They’re a gut sheep to have if you’re raising them for their fleece. Lincoln sheep are very long-wooled.”
“I can see that.”
Olivia Mae laughed. “Wait until you see them just before shearing. This is nothing.”
“So you sell their fleece?”
“Ya, it’s quite popular for spinning and weaving.”
“Why do you only have six?”
Olivia Mae shrugged. Though she didn’t want to go into it, she understood that making small talk made Noah comfortable, so she played along. “We lost two to predators...”
“Predators?”
“Probably a coyote. That was in January, and then we had another two that wandered off into the road during a late snowstorm in March. I check the fencing regularly, but they’d somehow found a way through. It was a hard winter.”
“I’ll say. So you had ten, which doesn’t sound like very many, and now you’re down to six.”
“My initial plan was to slowly build the herd, but...sometimes life doesn’t work out like you plan.”
“Said with the wisdom of a matchmaker.”
She waited.
“Speaking of that...”
“Of what?”
He tossed a look her way and smiled. Good teeth. Wait. Did she just assess his teeth? That was terrible. But good oral hygiene was a plus in the dating world.
“Speaking of matchmaking, I have a problem that I was hoping you could help me with.”
“Is that so?”
“My family is driving me crazy.”
“Huh.”
“My dat wants me to learn to farm.”
“I thought you were an auctioneer.”
“My bruders are all up in my business.”
“Aggravating.”
“But it’s my mamm that is pushing me over the edge.”
Olivia Mae knew that his mother was a sweet, if concerned, woman. After all, they’d had a good long talk on Monday, when Olivia Mae had taken over a blanket for Sarah’s child. The baby wasn’t due for another four months, so it had been perhaps obvious that she was making up a reason to visit, but Sarah had been thrilled with the knitted receiving blanket—yellow and green, made from Olivia Mae’s own wool, and with a small sheep motif running across the edge.
Of course, she’d picked a morning when she was sure Noah would be at the auction house, and was it her fault that his mother, Erika, had brought up finding a match for Noah? Olivia Mae thought it was a completely natural concern. She might have suggested that Erika make a deal with Noah.
“You’re awfully quiet over there,” Noah said.
“Am I?”
“Where do sheep take a bath?”
“Let me guess...”
“In a ba-a-athtub,” they said together.
She really did need to get him to focus or they’d be here all day. And while his jokes were cute, she had to see to Daddi and Mammi soon. “You were telling me about your mamm.”
“She offered me