An Amish Match (3 page)

“Lloyd was your age.”

“And she is barely ten years older than Timothy.”

“True. That might have made a difference years ago, but now you are adults with
kinder
. And you need a wife.”

“I don't need a wife right now. I need someone to watch the
kinder
.” He held up his hand. “And Rebekah lives too far away for me to ask her to do that.”

“What about the housework? The laundry? The cooking? Rose did much of those chores for you, and you eat your other meals here. Deborah can do some of the work, but not all of it. With Esther having to do my chores as well as her own around the house and preparations for the end of the school year, she would appreciate having fewer people at the table each night.”

“
Mamm
, I doubt that,” he replied with a laugh, though he knew his sister worked hard at their local school.

His
mamm
wagged a finger at him. “True, true. Esther would gladly feed anyone who showed up every night.” As quickly as she'd smiled, she became serious again. “But it's also true Rebekah Burkholder needs a husband. That poor woman can't manage on her own.”

He didn't want to admit his own thoughts had gone in that direction, too, and how guilty he felt that he'd turned his back on her.

His face must have betrayed his thoughts because
Mamm
asked, “Will you at least think of it?”

“Ja.”

What else could he say? Rebekah likely had no interest in remarrying so quickly after Lloyd's death, but if she didn't take another husband, she could lose Lloyd's legacy to her and his
kinder
. The idea twisted in Joshua's gut.

It was time for him to decide exactly what he was willing to do to help his best friend's widow.

Chapter Two

E
ven as Joshua was turning his buggy onto the lane leading to the Burkholders' farm the next morning, he fought his own yearning to turn around and leave at the buggy's top speed. He hadn't slept last night, tossing and turning and seeking God's guidance while the loud thunderstorm had banished the humidity. A cool breeze had rushed into the rooms where his three
kinder
had been lost in their dreams, but he had been awake until dawn trying to decide what he should do.

Or, to be more accurate, to accept what he should do.
God never promised life would be simple.
That thought echoed through his head during breakfast and as he prepared for the day.

Into his mind came the verse from Psalm 118 that he had prayed so many times since his wife died.
This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.

At sunrise on this crisp morning, he'd arranged for the younger two
kinder
to go to the Beilers' house, but he couldn't take advantage of their generosity often. Abram Beiler suffered from Parkinson's disease, and Leah and her
mamm
had to keep an eye on him as he went about his chores. Even though Leah had told Joshua to depend on her help for as long as he needed because Leah's niece Mandy and Deborah were close in age and enjoyed playing together, he must find a more permanent solution.

His next stop had been to drop off Timothy at his buggy shop at the Stoltzfus Family Shops in the village. The other shops as well as the smithy behind the long building were run by his brothers. He asked the sixteen-year-old to wait on any customers who came in and to let them know Joshua would be there by midday. Even a year ago, he could have trusted Timothy to sort out parts or paint sections of wood that were ready to be assembled, but his older son had grown less reliable in recent months. Joshua tried to give him space and privacy to sort out the answers every teenager wrestled with, which was why he hadn't said anything when he'd noticed Timothy had a portable music device and earphones hidden beneath his shirt.

Until he decided to be baptized and join the church, Timothy could have such items, though many members of the
Leit
frowned on their use at any age. Most
kinder
chose to be baptized, though a few like Leah's twin brother turned their backs on the community and left to seek a different life among the
Englischers
.

He stopped the family buggy, which was almost twice the size of the one Rebekah had driven away from the cemetery yesterday. Looking out the front, he appraised the small white house. He hadn't been here since at least three years before Matilda died. Only now did he realize how odd it was that they had seldom visited the Burkholders' house.

The house was in poor shape. Though the yard was neat and flowers had been planted by the front door, paint was chipped on the clapboards and the roof resembled a swaybacked horse. He frowned when he noticed several bricks had fallen off the chimney and tumbled partway down the shingles. Even from where he sat, he could see broken and missing shingles.

What had happened? This damage couldn't have happened in the five months since Lloyd's death. It must have taken years of neglect to bring the house to such a miserable state.

He stroked his beard thoughtfully as he looked at the barn and the outbuildings. They were in a little bit better shape, but not much. One silo was leaning at a precarious angle away from the barn, and a strong wind could topple it. A tree had fallen on a section of the fence. Its branches were bare and the trunk was silvery-gray, which told him it had been lying in the sunshine for several seasons.

Why had Lloyd let his house and buildings deteriorate like this?

Joshua reminded himself he wasn't going to learn any answers sitting in his buggy. After getting out, he lashed the reins around a nearby tree and left his buggy horse Benny to graze on the longer grass at the edge of the driveway. He walked up the sloping yard to the back door. As he looked beyond the barn, he saw two cows in the pasture. Not enough to keep the farm going unless Rebekah was making money in other ways, like selling eggs or vegetables at one of the farmers' markets near the tourist areas.

He knocked on the back door and waited for an answer. The door didn't have a window like his kitchen door, but he could hear soft footsteps coming toward him.

Rebekah opened the door and stared at him, clearly astonished at his unannounced visit in the middle of a workday morning.

He couldn't help staring back. Yesterday her face had been half hidden beneath her bonnet, and he'd somehow pushed out of his mind how beautiful she was. Her deep auburn hair was hidden beneath a scarf she'd tied at her nape. A splotch of soap suds clung to her right cheek and sparkled as brightly as her blue eyes. Her freckles looked as if someone had blown cinnamon across her nose and high cheekbones. There was something ethereal about her when she looked up at him, her eyes wide and her lips parted in surprise. Her hand was protectively on her belly. Damp spots littered the apron she wore over her black dress. He wasn't surprised her feet were bare.
Mamm
and his sisters preferred to go without shoes when cleaning floors.

Then he noticed the gray arcs beneath her eyes and how drawn her face was. Exhaustion. It was the first description that came to mind.

She put her hand to the scarf. “I didn't expect company.”

“I know, but it's long past time I paid you and the boy a visit.”

For a moment he thought she'd argue, then she edged back and opened the door wider. “Joshua,
komm
in. How is Isaiah?”

“He was still asleep when I went over there this morning.” Guilt twinged in him. He'd been so focused on his own problems that he hadn't been praying for his brother's grieving heart.
God, forgive me for being selfish. I need to be there to hold my brother up at this sad time. I know, too well, the emptiness he is feeling today.

“How's your
mamm
? I have been praying for her to heal quickly.”

He stepped into a kitchen that was as neat as the outside of the house was a mess. The tempting scents of freshly made bread and whatever chicken she was cooking on top of the stove for the midday meal teased him to ask her for a sample. When Lloyd and she had come over to his house, she'd always brought cookies or cake, which rivaled the very best he'd ever tasted.

You wouldn't have to eat your own cooking or Deborah's burned meals any longer if Rebekah agrees to marry you, so ask her.

He wished that voice in his head would be quiet. This was tough enough without being nagged by his own thoughts.

Taking off his straw hat and holding it by the brim, Joshua slowly turned it around and around. “
Danki
for asking.
Mamm
is doing as well as can be expected. You know she's not one for sitting around. She's already figuring out what she can do with one hand.”

“I'm not surprised.” She gave him a kind smile. “Will you sit down? I've got coffee and hot water for tea. Would you like a cup?”

“
Danki
, Rebekah. Tea sounds
gut
,” he said as he set his hat on a peg by the door. He pulled out one of the chairs by the well-polished oak table.

“Coming up.” She crossed the room to the large propane stove next to the refrigerator that operated on the same fuel.

“Mamm?”
came her son's voice from the front room. It was followed by the little boy rushing into the kitchen. He skidded to a halt and gawped at Joshua before running to grab Rebekah's skirt.

She put a loving hand on Sammy's dark curls. “You remember Joshua, right?”

He heard a peculiar tension underlying her question and couldn't keep from recalling how Sammy had been skittish around him at the cemetery. Some
kinder
were shy with adults. He'd need to be patient while he gave the boy a chance to get to know him better.

Joshua smiled at the toddler. It seemed as if only yesterday his sons, Timothy and Levi, were no bigger than little Samuel. How sweet those days had been when his sons had shadowed him and listened to what he could share with them! As soon as Deborah was able to toddle, she'd joined them. They'd had fun together while he'd let them help with small chores around the buggy shop and on the two acres where he kept a cow and some chickens.

But that had ended when Timothy had changed from a
gut
and devoted son to someone Joshua didn't know. He argued about everything when he was talking, which wasn't often because he had days when he was sullen and did little more than grunt in response to anything Joshua or his siblings said.

“Go?” asked Samuel.

Joshua wasn't sure if the boy wanted to leave or wanted Joshua to leave, but Rebekah shook her head and took a cup out of a cupboard. The hinges screamed like a bobcat, and he saw her face flush.

“It needs some oil,” he said quietly.

“I keep planning on doing that, but I get busy with other things, and it doesn't get done.” She reached for the kettle and looked over her shoulder at him. “You know how it is.”

“I know you must be overwhelmed here, but I'm concerned more about the shape of your roof than a squeaky hinge. If Lloyd hadn't been able to maintain the farm on his own, he should have asked for help. We would have come right away.”

“I know, but...”

When her eyes shifted, he let his sigh slip silently past his lips. She didn't want to talk about Lloyd, and he shouldn't push the issue. They couldn't change the past. He was well aware of how painful even thinking of his past with Matilda could be.

He thanked her when she set a cup of steeping tea in front of him. She went to the refrigerator, with her son holding her skirt, and came back with a small pitcher of cream. He hadn't expected her to remember he liked it in his tea.

“
Danki
, Rebekah.” He gave her the best smile he could. “Now I'm the one saying it over and over.”

“You don't need to say it for this.” She set a piece of fresh apple pie in front of him. “I appreciate you having some of the pie. Otherwise I will eat most of it myself.” She put her hand on her stomach, which strained the front of her dress. “It looks as if I've had enough.”

“You are eating for two.”

“As much as I've been eating, you'd think I was eating for a whole litter.” She made a face as she pressed her hand to her side. “The way this
boppli
kicks, it feels like I'm carrying around a large crowd that is playing an enthusiastic game of volleyball.”

He laughed and was rewarded with a brilliant smile from her. When was the last time he'd seen her genuine smile? He was sad to realize it'd been so long he didn't know.

After bringing a small cup of milk to the table, she sat as he took one bite, then another of her delicious pie. Her son climbed onto her lap, and she offered him a drink. He drank but squirmed. Excusing herself, she stood and went into the other room with Samuel on her hip. She came back and sat. She put crayons and paper in front of her son, who began scribbling intently.

“This way he's occupied while we talk,” she said.

“Gut.”
If he'd had any doubts about her love of
kinder
, they were gone now. She was a gentle and caring
mamm
.

“It's nice of you to come to visit, Joshua, but I know you, and you always have a reason for anything you do. Why are you here today?”

He should be thanking God for Rebekah giving him such a perfect opening to say for what he'd come to say. Yet words refused to form on his lips. Once he asked her to be his wife, there would be no turning back. He risked ruining their friendship, no matter how she replied. He hated the idea of jeopardizing that.

Samuel pushed a piece of paper toward him with a tentative smile.

“He wants you to have the picture he drew,” Rebekah said.

Jacob looked at the crayon lines zigzagging across the page in every direction. “It's very colorful.”

The little boy whispered in Rebekah's ear.

She nodded, then said, “He tells me it's a picture of your horse and buggy.”

“I see,” he replied, though he didn't. The collection of darting lines bore no resemblance he could discern to either Benny or his buggy. “
Gut
job, Samuel.”

The
kind
started to smile, then hid his face in Rebekah's shoulder. She murmured something to him and picked up a green crayon. When she handed it to him along with another piece of paper, he began drawing again.

“You never answered my question, Joshua,” she said. “Why did you come here today?”

“In part to apologize for not coming sooner. I should have been here to help you during the past few months.”

Her smile wavered. “I know I've let the house and buildings go.”

He started to ask another question, but when he met her steady gaze and saw how her chin trembled as she tried to hide her dismay, he nodded. “It doesn't take long once wind and rain get through one spot to start wrecking a whole building.”

“That's true. I know I eventually will need to sell the farm. I've already had several offers to buy it.”

“Amish or
Englisch
?”

“Both, though I wouldn't want to see the acres broken up and a bunch of
Englisch
houses built here.”

“Some
Englischers
like to live on a small farm, as we do.” He used the last piece of crust to collect the remaining apple filling on the plate. “My neighbors are like that.”

“I didn't realize you had
Englisch
neighbors.”

“Ja.”
He picked up his cup of tea. “Their Alexis and my Timothy have played together from the time they could walk.”