The Amish Christmas Matchmaker Read online

  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 openly mocked him, but what was his deal? Why did he act as if Texas were the promised land?

  She’d simply have to pray for extra strength to curb her tongue when she was around him.

  Friday that wasn’t so easy.

  On Friday, Levi managed to tax her patience to the limit.

  It didn’t help that she had a wedding the next day, the florist had ordered roses instead of mums and she’d spent ten hours in the kitchen cooking and shredding chicken. When Levi and her father trotted inside, leaving muddy prints across the floor she’d just cleaned, Annie thought she might flip like pancakes on a griddle. Things went downhill from there.

  She placed a dish of chicken potpie in the middle of the table. Beside it was a loaf of fresh bread, butter and a large salad. Her mamm came in asking about the field work, and they all sat down to eat—including Levi. The serving bowls had barely been passed when her dat started in on the Texas trivia points for the day.

  “Levi was telling me about Texas longhorns.”

  Levi held his hands up to his head and then spread them as far apart as possible. “Big longhorns.”

  “Horns curve outward and can measure up to eight feet in length,” her father said. “Sharp on the end, but apparently they’re gentle animals.”

  “Most are.” Levi reached for an extra piece of bread. “Best to check with the owner before approaching one.”

  Annie dropped her fork onto her helping of chicken potpie and gave Levi her most critical look. It always worked when she substituted at their local school, but Levi simply shoveled in another forkful of chicken pie and grinned at her.

  “Great dinner,” he said after he’d swallowed.

  She learned about the rivers that often ran dry, the terribly hot summer temperatures—her father laughed at that as if such a thing would be eons better than their pleasant summers—and even about their wildflowers.

  Finally, she said, “If you’ll excuse me, I need to load up my trailer.”

  “I can help with that,” Levi said.

  “Nein—”

  “How kind of you, Levi.” Her mamm stood and began picking up dishes. “Accept his help, Annie, and your dat and I can clean up this kitchen.”

  Annie couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her father help with the dishes. This was plainly a trick to throw her and Levi together, and she couldn’t imagine what her mother was thinking. Unless...maybe she was hoping that she would set Levi straight. She could certainly do that.

  “Okay then. Danki, Levi. If you’ll pick up those boxes of cooked chicken, I’ll bring the loaves of bread.” The bread tray was clumsier but lighter. The chicken would have taken her at least two trips, but Levi picked up both large boxes and looked around as if he were wondering what else he could carry.

  They were barely out the back door when he started in with his questions.

  “You have a wedding tomorrow? I thought most Amish weddings were on Tuesday or Thursday.”

  He was tall and his shadow leaped out in front of them as if it was leading the way. The thought annoyed Annie, though she supposed he had no control over his shadow.

  “Tomorrow’s wedding is a special situation. This family has relatives who live out of town. They couldn’t arrive until late on a Friday afternoon, so we scheduled the wedding for a Saturday.”

  “You cater a lot of weddings?”

  “Ya, I do...” She turned toward him when they reached her trailer, ready to confront him about this Texas issue. Then she looked over her shoulder, and the sight of her mobile kitchen eased the knot of tension in her shoulders. “You can bring those inside.”

  The trailer was small, but she was proud of it. Inside was a mobile kitchen—with dishes for five hundred people, propane-powered refrigerators, three stoves that provided her with a dozen burners, plus a large industrial-sized oven that was six feet tall. On the side, they’d had stenciled the words Plain & Simple Weddings in a black italic font.

  She set the trays with loaves of fresh bread in the oven. It was taller than she was and would hold the loaves just fine. She didn’t have to turn it on, because the loaves were already baked. She’d heat them before the luncheon. When he handed her the boxes of chicken, she took each platter out and set it in one of the propane refrigerators, which she’d turned on earlier in the day.

  Levi’s eyes widened as he looked around, and he let out a long whistle. “Wow. Some setup you have here.”

  “It is, and it took time and a lot of work to be able to afford it.”

  “You pull this with your buggy?”

  “No, I don’t pull it with my buggy. That would be illegal, not to mention unsafe.” She nudged him back out the door of the trailer.

  “Then how...”

  She waved away his question. She had no intention of telling him the ins and outs of her business. He didn’t need to know that she had an Englisch partner who owned a large pickup truck. Though she could imagine what Priscilla would say about Levi, and that eased even more of the tension in her neck. Priscilla would call him tall-fair-and-yummy.

  She walked out of the trailer and said a quick prayer for patience and wisdom. She seemed to need large helpings of both around Levi Lapp. “I need to talk to you about my dat.”

  “Oh. He’s a nice guy. You have a wunderbaar family.”

  “Ya, I do.” She thought to ask him about his family, but she didn’t want to get distracted. “Look, I wish you well in finding a group to start in Texas...”

  “Your dat seems quite keen about the idea.”

  “That’s the thing I wanted to talk to you about. Remember what I told you before? Dat gets excited about an idea, usually for about a week.”

  “Maybe this time is different.”

  “It isn’t.”

  “How can you know that?”

  “Because I know him. He’s a gut worker, a gut provider and a gut husband and dat. He doesn’t smoke or drink or run around.”

  “Which would make him a great addition to my group.”

  “We’re not moving to Texas!” The words came out more sharply than she’d intended, and for a moment the ever-present smile slipped from Levi’s face.

  Finally, she was getting through to him.

  Or so she thought.

  “Change is hard. I understand. And you have this thriving business...”

  “Which I have no intention of packing up and moving to Stephenville, Texas.”

  “Might not be Stephenville. It would depend on where we can find good land at a reasonable price.”

  “You’re missing my point.” Maybe she should try appealing to his sense of right and wrong. “Mamm and I like it here. My bruders, they live close enough that they’re able to help with the harvest. My schweschder lives down the road. We have freinden and family here, and I have a thriving business. We. Are. Not. Moving.”

  She’d moved out in front of him, but he scooted around her and plopped down on the step which led up into the trailer. She stood there, arms crossed, waiting for the truth of what she was saying to sink in beneath his cowboy hat.

  “I think what you’re actually trying to say is that you’d like me to stop speaking to your dat about a move.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Would you also like me to quit working for him?”

  “What? No. Obviously, he’s satisfied with your work, and he needs the help.”

  “Would you rather I didn’t stay for dinner?”

  “Of course not. Mamm doesn’t mind, and it certainly makes no difference to me.”

  “So I’m allowed to work here and eat here, but only if I watch what I say.”

  She was shaking her head before he finished talking. “I’m not the boss of you.”

  “That’s true. You are not.”

  When he glanced up at her, she was discouraged to see that his normally amiable expression had changed into something more stubborn. Something probably resembling a Texas mule, if they looked any different than Indiana mules.

  She cleared her throat and tried a different approach. “I admire what you’re trying to do. I’m simply asking that you consider the situation of my family. We’re happy here. Don’t stir Dat up with all this talk of longhorns and wildflowers.”

  “Okay.” He stood and clamped the ridiculous cowboy hat down more firmly on his head.

  “Okay?”

  “Ya.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Seems a fair enough request.”

  “I agree. That’s why I made it.”

  “Gut day to you then.” With a quick smile, he turned and walked toward the lane. As if he’d just thought of something, he stopped, took off the hat, scratched his head and then turned back toward her. “Tell your parents gut evening, and danki again for the meal.”

  Annie stared after him, wondering what had just happened.

  Why had he agreed so readily?

  Why was he smiling?

  What was she missing here?

  Those things didn’t matter. What mattered was that they could put this silly matter of Texas behind them, and she could go back to focusing on her business. Though it was only September, she’d already passed the previous year’s profit. Now if she could have a strong fall, she’d feel in a good position for starting the new year.

  A new year in Goshen, Indiana, not on the wild plains of Texas.

  * * *

  Amish families tended to eat dinner early—that way they could go out and do the evening chores before things were too dark to see well. The sun had dipped toward the west and a pleasant coolness had settled in as Levi walked down the road, away from the Kauffmans’ and toward Old Simon’s.

  He was thinking of how pretty and stubborn Annie was, how focused she was on that catering business—as if it were all that mattered—and the way her cheeks colored pink when she was angry. He was wondering what it was about himself that irked her so much, when an Amish man working on a fence line called out to him.

  “You must be the fellow helping out my father-in-law.”

  “I’m Levi. Levi Lapp. If your father-in-law is Alton Kauffmann, then ya. I’m helping him out two afternoons a week.”

  “Thought so.”

  “What gave me away?”

  “You’re the only Amish person I’ve ever seen wearing a cowboy hat. By the way, I’m Jebediah. I’m married to Alton’s middle daughter, Nicole.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  Jebediah didn’t seem in any hurry to finish mending the fence. Instead he leaned against one of the fence posts and started peppering him with questions. “Heard you’re from Texas. What was that like? Also heard you were going back. When do you expect to do that? And do you really think you’ll convince Alton to go with you?”

  Levi laughed. “It doesn’t take long for word to get around.”

  “You know how it is.”

  “I do.” Levi scanned the horizon and wondered how best to address Jebediah’s questions. As usual, his enthusiasm for the subject won out over any instinct that might have told him to approach the subject slowly. “Texas was wunderbaar, and I’ve been trying to get back pretty much since we left, which was twelve years ago when I was fourteen. I hope to move down in the spring. Now that I have a church elder interested—”

  “Old Simon?”

  “Ya.”

  “He’s not in the best of shape.”

  “He’s not in the worst, either, and once we’re there, I think others will come.”

  “Maybe.”

  Jebediah’s comments were nothing like Annie’s. He didn’t sound critical of the idea so much as skeptical. A skeptic he could handle.

  “You should think about going with us.”

  “Can’t say as I’m interested myself, but if Alton goes, well that might be a different story. My wife is pretty attached to her family, which is gut because mine is in Ohio and we can’t afford land there.”

  “Land in Texas is cheap.”

  “Is it now?” Jebediah grinned as if he’d heard that one before. “Cheap doesn’t really matter if you don’t have any money, which I don’t. Married four years ago, and we have three boppli with another on the way. Every cent I makes gets plucked from my hand like a north wind snatched it away.”

  “That doesn’t bother you?”

  “Not really. We have what we need.”

  Levi wasn’t sure how to answer that. It was a common sentiment among Amish men and women alike. He had a little trouble relating. It wasn’t that he wanted more. It was only that he wanted something different than what he had.

  “I don’t want to keep you from mending that fence, and I best get on before Old Simon wonders what happened to me.”

  “See you tomorrow then.”

  “Tomorrow?” Levi had already turned away, but now he turned back to Jebediah. “Oh, I don’t work for Alton on Saturdays. That’s my day to stay and help Old Simon.”

  He’d even started calling the old guy that, and he’d only learned the nickname recently.

  “I mean that I’ll see you at the wedding.”

  “Wedding?”

  “Beth and Avery. Old Simon will be there for sure and certain—everyone will. It’ll be a gut time for you to meet folks.”

  The wedding that Annie had been preparing for. He suddenly realized that he’d like to see her in action, serving the masses from her tiny trailer. “I don’t even know them.”

  “You’re invited nonetheless. You’re a part of our community now. Everyone’s invited.”

  Those words echoed through Levi’s mind as he walked the last half mile to Old Simon’s house. You’re a part of our community now. It was a simple yet common sentiment among Plain folks. You moved in; you were accepted.

  So why had he never felt at home in Lancaster?

  Why did he have such terrible memories of his time here in Goshen?

  Maybe because he’d resented his community’s decision from the day they’d abandoned the Texas community. Maybe because the move had been difficult for his parents, not to mention his siblings. The old ache twisted in his gut, but he chose to ignore it.

  That was his past.

  His future was to the south and moving closer every day.

  He arrived home to find Simon sitting on the back porch, an open Bible in his lap. He barely seemed to look down at the well-worn pages. In fact, Levi had surmised that the old guy’s eyesight had weakened to the point that he couldn’t read the words printed there, but it seemed to soothe him to hold the open Bible.

  He also was a terrible driver. It was a good thing that the buggy horse practically drove itself, or they would have been killed on Levi’s first day in town.

  “Preparing for your sermon?”

  “Ya.” Simon looked up in surprise, so apparently, he hadn’t heard Levi enter through the front door or the banging of the back screen door as he’d come outside. Maybe his hearing was going too, but a smile spread across his face.

  He was a nice old guy, terribly lonely since his wife had died the year before. Their children were in Kentucky. Levi had written to both sons before he had accepted Old Simon’s invitation to move to Goshen. He didn’t want to be the source of hard feelings in the family. The eldest son had explained that they were trying to convince Simon to move, but that so far he’d resisted. Levi didn’t share with Jonah his hopes that Simon would move to Texas with him. He didn’t lie about it. The subject just didn’t come up.