The Amish Christmas Matchmaker, page 10
The sky was growing dark, and Levi realized that the dinner crowd was thinning out at the Dairy Queen, but he wasn’t ready to leave. The October evening was a perfect temperature, and Annie seemed like a different person tonight. She almost seemed to be enjoying her time with him. As goofy as it sounded—even in his own head—he didn’t want the night to end. So instead of suggesting they drive home, he leaned back against the picnic table and found a comfortable position.
“Tate was your stereotypical Texan. He had calloused hands, a farmer’s tan, and a slow way of talking. He worked hard and was faithful to his friends and family. I guess he became like a father to me. We didn’t have any other family there, and the farms were spread out a bit which made it difficult to see one another during the week.”
“There’s one negative thing.”
“Ya, I guess it was. It was probably natural to become close to any neighbor within shouting distance—even if he was a crusty old Englisch cowboy.”
“He became like an onkel to you?”
“I guess he did.” He glanced at Annie, surprised that she had understood the situation so quickly. He barely understood it himself. “Tate taught me how to ride a horse proper-like. He gave me my first Stetson. He even paid my entrance fee in the rodeo.”
“And your parents were okay with that?”
Levi shrugged. He couldn’t really remember his parents’ response. “They didn’t seem to notice what I was doing then. I guess they were too busy trying to pull a living out of the Texas dirt.”
“A second negative thing.”
He would have taken offense, but Annie didn’t sound gleeful about pointing out the undesirable aspects of Texas. She looked completely caught up in his story.
“I guess. Anyway, my point is that those years were the best time in my life, so I remember the positive, like you do with your mammi.”
“What happened then? Why did the community dissolve?”
“Drought, I think, and ya, that would be a third thing that’s not so great about Texas. Here in Indiana, if it doesn’t rain for a week we think we’re having a drought. In Texas, it can go months with no rain, and then it comes all at once, flooding everything in sight.”
“You really know how to sell a place.” Her words didn’t surprise him, but when she reached out and squeezed his hand, he almost jumped out of his suspenders.
“Don’t worry, Levi. I’m not flirting with you.” She smiled at him as if he’d just offered her a new pony. “But I understand now that those years in Texas were special to you. How long did you stay here in Goshen? Because I don’t remember...”
“You were still a youngie then, and we would have been at different schoolhouses.”
“I should be able to remember something of your being here if it was only twelve years ago.”
“Twelve years is a long time.” The calendar in his head never forgot that date. He’d been trying to get back to Texas since the day they’d left. “You were probably still in school.”
“Ya. I was.”
“We came back here, and before we could really settle in, Dat was diagnosed. Prostate cancer usually moves slowly, but the kind Dat had moved fast. I can see now that was probably a blessing. At least he wasn’t in pain for a long time.”
He stood and nodded toward the buggy. They walked close together across the parking area. It felt strangely intimate, as if they were on a real date, as if he should reach out and take her hand. “He died three months after his diagnosis. Those were...they were tough months.”
“I can’t even imagine.”
“My mamm was grieving, and my family was renting a place that was in pretty bad shape. Then my mamm met my stepfather—he was visiting his family here in Goshen one Sunday. Next thing I knew, we were packing up and moving to Pennsylvania.”
He checked the horse, then helped Annie up into the buggy. Once they were on the road, he glanced at her, a little embarrassed that he had shared so much.
If it bothered her, he couldn’t tell.
Their ride home was a quiet one, but it was a comfortable silence. He didn’t feel the need to jump in and talk about horses or boots or crops.
When he pulled down her lane, she said, “My life, I guess it’s been pretty easy compared to yours.”
“Every life has its burdens.”
“Maybe, but you’ve been through a lot for someone so young. It’s no wonder that you want to go back to a time, to a place, where you were happy.”
“So you’ll help me?”
“Nein.”
He could feel more than see her smile as he pulled the horse to a stop in front of her house.
“But maybe I’ll stop fighting you so hard.”
She hopped out of the buggy. He leaned over before she could close the door. “Don’t you think you should stay here a few minutes? Maybe we should kiss a little so your parents will believe this is a real date.”
Her laughter was soft and sweet, and instead of it hurting his feelings, he found himself whistling as he turned the mare toward Simon’s. He probably wasn’t any closer to his dream, but something had happened tonight. He’d found a friend, and that didn’t happen every day. Friendship, he’d learned over the years, was a precious thing. He could pause in his quest long enough to appreciate that Gotte had put Annie Kauffmann directly in his path.
The only question was, what was he supposed to do now?
Chapter Nine
Annie’s plan was working, perhaps a little too well.
“You two were out late last night.”
“I was home by dark, Mamm.”
“Nearly.”
“Okay, it was a few minutes after dark.”
“I guess you had a gut time.”
Annie stared over the rim of her coffee cup at her mother. Perhaps if she drank down the entire thing before answering, she’d find the patience to keep up this little charade of being romantically interested in Levi.
Then she remembered about his dat, dying when Levi was only a youngie.
She remembered telling him about her mammi, and how much she missed the dear woman.
She sipped her coffee, offered up a prayer of gratitude that she still had her parents around to meddle in her affairs and smiled at her mamm.
“We went to Fidler Pond, walked a little, fished a little...”
“You fished?”
“I even baited Levi’s hook for him. Turns out, he’s a bit squeamish.”
Which started them both laughing and suddenly her irritation melted away. Later, as she was setting the table for breakfast, Annie realized that part of her bad mood was her own fault. She didn’t like deceiving her parents. She should just tell them that she wasn’t interested in Levi as anything but a freind.
But then they’d point out what a fine young man he was.
They’d bring up that she wasn’t getting any younger.
They would insist that there was no hurry, but really how many chances did she expect to have?
Nein. She wasn’t going through that conversation again. Better to pretend to like Levi in a romantic way, then after a few dates she could explain that they simply weren’t compatible.
It was a deception, and she felt guilty about that.
But it was the easiest path for everyone.
Levi didn’t eat breakfast with them, claiming he’d eaten at Old Simon’s. She couldn’t imagine what type of food that might have been, but she shrugged as if it didn’t bother her and handed him a mug of coffee.
“Mind if I carry this to the barn?”
“Suit yourself.”
He’d been avoiding eye contact, but now he looked at her, smiled and touched the brim of his cowboy hat.
That hat.
She’d closed her eyes and was thinking of how to get it away from him, how to casually replace it with a proper Amish hat, when he turned and walked away. After breakfast, she saw Levi and her dat head out to the south pasture. Probably planting the winter crop. If her dat had talked about his plans for that day during breakfast, she hadn’t been paying attention.
Not that it mattered to her what Levi Lapp did all day.
She went out to the garden to harvest the last of their vegetables. A half hour later, she was digging up the last of the potatoes when her sister Nicole called out to her.
“I didn’t hear your buggy pull up.”
“We walked.”
“You’re a brave woman venturing out alone across the pasture with that group.”
She looked up into the kitchen window and saw Nicole’s three children sitting at the table. No doubt they were being treated to cold milk and a good-sized peanut butter cookie by Annie’s mamm.
“They were full of energy this morning,” Nicole explained. “I decided a walk would tire them out...”
“I hope you used the stroller.”
“I did. Anyway, I was hoping the time away would help everyone take a nap this afternoon.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Gut.” Nicole placed a hand on top of her stomach as she sat down in the dirt next to Annie. “This is the gut part, before my ankles start to swell and I have constant indigestion from the baby taking up the space where my stomach is supposed to be.”
“You make it sound lovely.”
Nicole picked up a handful of dirt and sifted it through her fingers. “It’s better than that—I think it may be the most amazing thing a woman can experience.”
Annie didn’t bother answering. She’d seen her schweschder in this phase before—two times before. She’d also seen her when she could barely waddle down the steps, and when she’d been carrying the twins she’d looked positively huge. Pregnancy wasn’t a picnic in the park, but for now Nicole was enjoying her condition so why argue with her?
“Heard you went out with Levi last night.”
“Oh, good grief.”
“What? It’s not like anyone was gossiping.”
“Right. So a little bird must have told you, ya?”
“Beth saw Levi turn into the park when she was coming home from work. Martha saw you at the Dairy Queen as she was leaving. Guess you didn’t notice either one of them.”
“Guess I didn’t.”
“She said you only had eyes for Levi.”
“Oh, come on. Does that even sound like me?”
“It doesn’t, which is why I’m sitting here asking you questions.”
Annie pushed her shovel under a particularly stubborn potato and pulled from the top. She was rewarded with a spray of dirt. Seeing her covered in dirt, Nicole began to giggle. Annie wanted to be offended, but she couldn’t pull it off. Before she knew it, she was laughing along with her. It felt gut to relax with her schweschder, and she knew deep in her heart that it would feel even better if she were to confess the truth to her.
“I’m going to tell you something, but promise to keep it to yourself.”
Nicole nodded. “I promise.”
So she told her about the harvest, how her parents had begun giving her the look and whispering when they thought she couldn’t hear, how she’d come up with a plan to pretend to date Levi.
“And they fell for it?”
“Well, ya, because they already think we’re falling for each other. People see what they want to see.”
“How long do you expect to keep this up?”
“I don’t know—three or four dates, I guess. That’s about the longest any relationship I’ve ever had has lasted.”
“And you can’t just tell them that you’re not interested?”
“You know I’ve tried that before. They don’t listen.”
“It’s because they worry about you. We all do.”
“Why? Because I have a successful business and I’m a happy, single Amish woman?”
“Don’t twist your bonnet strings into a knot. I’m just saying that we care about you, and we want to see you happily settled.”
“I’m only twenty-four. It’s not like I’m ancient.”
“And no one is suggesting that you are.”
Annie stood, brushed the dirt from the back of her dress, then reached down and helped Nicole to her feet. She thrust the basket of vegetables into her schweschder’s hands and picked up her gardening tools. They walked toward the back porch in silence, but before they climbed the steps, Nicole stayed her with the touch of her hand.
“Just be careful.”
“How do you mean?”
“With your heart. Beth and Martha both said that you looked happy, and when you talk about Levi, your eyes light up.”
“You’ve been reading too many romance books again. Eyes don’t actually light up.”
“It’s just...I don’t want to see Levi break your heart.”
“You think I’ll have a broken heart? I thought you liked Levi.”
“Sure, I do, but everyone knows how you feel about moving to Texas.”
“I can’t believe you’re even considering it.”
Nicole didn’t address that. She was apparently bound and determined to issue her warning. “It doesn’t seem likely that Levi will change his mind and stay here in Goshen.”
“And I wouldn’t want him to. It’s obvious Texas is where he belongs.” Which sounded so strange coming out of her mouth that she almost pinched herself to see if she was awake or in some bizarre dream.
As she followed Nicole into the house, she realized that it was true. Levi did belong in Texas. That much was obvious from their long talk the evening before. Which left her in quite an awkward position—finding a way to stymie his plans or at least remove her family from the details at the same time that she was hoping and praying he would be able to move forward.
* * *
Levi didn’t see much of Annie on Wednesday, and was surprised when she wasn’t at the breakfast table on Friday morning. If he were honest with himself, he would admit that he had been avoiding her on Wednesday. He’d even skipped breakfast so he wouldn’t have to sit and make idle chatter. For some reason he wasn’t sure he could do that, not after they’d shared so much with each other on their first date.
He’d agreed to work for her dat, and he’d agreed to this pretend dating plan, but he’d expected to be able to keep himself aloof from it all. It wasn’t working. He could feel his wall of disinterest caving. He could feel himself becoming distracted.
The less time he spent around her, the better. Then again, they were supposed to be stepping out together.
So as he accepted the mug of strong coffee and sat down at the table, he caved in to his curiosity and asked her parents where she’d gone so early in the day.
“She’s helping Priscilla prepare for a wedding they are catering tomorrow.”
“Another Saturday wedding?”
“Ya. I remember when most weddings were on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but we’ve grown so much that Saturday weddings are becoming a common occurrence.”
“Oh.”
“Would you like me to give Annie a message?”
“I didn’t realize she would be working, though everyone knows that October is the marrying season around here. I should have thought of that.”
“What were you going to ask her?” Alton reached for the platter of bacon and put four pieces on his plate.
“I thought she might want to go to town with me tomorrow night. You know, since we’re stepping out and all.”
Annie’s parents shared a look, and Levi wanted to hide under the kitchen table. Why had he even brought it up? Now they were looking at him as if he’d invented the hay baler.
He thought they might give him the standard talk of always being respectful to their daughter.
Or maybe they’d bring up what a fine fraa she would make, as if he couldn’t see that with his own two eyes.
Instead, Lily scooped another helping of eggs onto his plate, and Alton started talking about the fence work they needed to do that day.
When he was leaving to follow Alton to the barn, Lily pulled him aside. “Annie’s wedding tomorrow is an early one, and they’re only having the noonday meal, not the evening.”
“Ya?”
“I suspect she’d enjoy some time out after that. You could leave her a note, and I’ll give it to her.”
“Danki, I’ll do that.”
He borrowed paper and a pen and worked on the message at lunch, eating his sandwich out at the picnic table. He ruined three good sheets of paper before he settled on what to say. Reading back over it, he wondered how he’d ever had a date in his life. He certainly wasn’t very good at this.
Annie,
I know you’re working tomorrow morning. Would you like to go out for pizza tomorrow night? The fall festival is happening in town and we could walk through the booths, listen to the bands, stuff like that. If you want. If you don’t, I understand. In fact, you probably don’t, so you can just ignore this letter. But on the off chance you do want to, leave me a message at the phone shack. I’ll check it around noon.
Yours,
Levi
Yours?
What did that even mean?
Why did people sign letters that way?
And under that was a deeper worry. Was her mother going to read it before giving it to her? Should he have added a heart or said something about kissing her so they’d believe that something romantic was going on?
“We’re not youngies,” he muttered to himself, folding the letter and sticking it into his pocket. He’d hand it to Lily before leaving. Annie had said they needed to go on three dates, and if it helped her out, then he’d do it. Though this letter-writing thing was nothing short of humiliating.
