The Widow’s Second Chance

Widow Leah Yoder married for love once. Now that she’s come home to Seven Poplars, she wants a marriage of convenience that will provide a longed-for family without dishonoring the memory of her late husband. A steady, serious older man would be ideal—someone completely unlike handsome, fun-loving Thomas Stutzman. She and the aspiring organic farmer agree to court to prove that this time, the matchmaker has made a mistake! But as their friendship deepens, will Leah settle for what she thought she needed, or put fear aside for a second chance at happiness?

“I’m sure we set them all atwitter.”

She was surprised at how much she was enjoying the day. She’d expected having Thomas walk her home from church would be awkward, but she found him easy to talk to. He had an easy laugh, and it was nice having him beside her.

“My grandfather saw us and nodded his approval.” He made a reluctant sound. “I feel a little bad about deceiving him, letting him think that we’re walking out together.”

“But we are, aren’t we? We did promise Sara a six-week trial.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Thomas said. “It isn’t really a ruse. Not if we do date like we promised. Even if we both know that this isn’t going to work out.”

“Exactly,” she agreed. “You know, honestly, I can’t see why you haven’t found someone. There’s nothing wrong with you that I can see.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

His tone seemed a little stilted. “Don’t take it personally, Thomas. And who knows? Maybe Sara will prove us wrong. Maybe we’ll fall madly in love.”

He chuckled. “Right.”

Dear Reader,

A first love is always a special life experience, but sometimes life doesn’t turn out the way we expect. In A Love for Leah we see what happens when matchmaker Sara Yoder tries to arrange a second chance at love for a young widow who many of our readers may remember fondly, Hannah’s daughter Leah. Seeking to heal from the tragic loss of her young family while on mission in the Amazon rainforest, she believes she can find peace and a new start in the traditional Amish community of Seven Poplars.

Leah wants desperately to have another child, so she asks Sara to arrange a marriage of convenience with an older man. Leah believes she will be content with a quiet partnership built on faith and respect. She never expects to become reacquainted with handsome, vivacious Thomas, or to fall head over heels in love with him. And when she does, her heart is torn. Will marrying Thomas for love rather than convenience be a betrayal to her first husband? Will this be a match that Sara can’t manage?

I hope that you’ll enjoy Leah’s journey in search of happiness. I’m always glad to welcome readers old and new to stories of love and life among the Amish.

Wishing you peace and joy,

Emma Miller

EMMA MILLER lives quietly in her old farmhouse in rural Delaware. Fortunate enough to be born into a family of strong faith, she grew up on a dairy farm, surrounded by loving parents, siblings, grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. Emma was educated in local schools and once taught in an Amish schoolhouse. When she’s not caring for her large family, reading and writing are her favorite pastimes.

A Love for Leah

Emma Miller

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Delight yourself also in the Lord and

He shall give you the desires of your heart.

—Psalms 37:4

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Kent County, Delaware

Spring

“What do you mean you won’t marry me?” Thomas’s eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at the young woman beside him. “Don’t we go together like ham and cabbage? Bacon and eggs? Hasn’t everyone been waiting for us to announce the wedding date?”

Ellie grimaced. “I’m sorry, Thomas. Truly I am.” She sounded contrite.

He set her books onto the trunk of a fallen apple tree and they tumbled onto the grass. “You should be sorry,” he said. “It’s not easy for a fellow to propose to a girl. And when I do, you turn me down? It’s humiliating.”

It was late afternoon and the dirt path that ran from the Seven Poplars schoolhouse where Ellie taught, to Sara Yoder’s place, where she lived, was deserted except for the two of them. The path crossed several Amish farms and this section wound through an apple orchard. The trees were bursting with new leaves and just beginning to bud from the branches on either side of the rutted lane. The only sounds, other than the thud of Thomas’s accelerated heartbeat, were the buzzing of bees and the scolding song of a wren.

He scowled down at Ellie. “Why don’t you want to marry me?”

“I should have never let it get this far.” She looked up at him, her hands clasped together. “I knew we weren’t meant to wed. But I like you and you’re so much fun.”

“I think you are, too. Isn’t that enough? That we genuinely like each other and always have a good laugh?”

She shook her head sadly. “Ne, Thomas, it isn’t enough for me.”

In frustration, he yanked off his broad-brimmed hat and threw it on top of the scattered books. “I don’t understand. I thought you wanted to be my wife.”

“I never said that, Thomas.”

He scowled.

She picked up his hat, brushed the leaves off it and handed it back to him. “I care for you, Thomas, but I don’t want to have your babies, and I can’t see us growing old together. We talked about this months ago. Remember?” Her blue eyes clouded with emotion.

“Ya, but I thought...” What did he think? She’d told him last fall that he needed to start walking out with other girls, but he hadn’t, and the next thing he knew he and Ellie were running around together again.

“We’re not a good match, Thomas. And if you’re honest with yourself, you’ll agree. I think what we have is...” Her brow furrowed as she seemed to search for the right word. “A convenient friendship.”

“Convenient?” Needing to look her in the eye, he caught her around the waist and lifted her so that her small feet, clad in black leather lace-up sneakers, balanced on the fallen tree trunk. Ellie was a little person, and when she stood beside him, the top of her snowy-white prayer kapp barely reached the middle of his chest. After their first meeting he’d never thought of her as small, or different than any of the other girls he had walked out with. Ellie cast a big shadow.

Ellie’s eyes registered a sharp warning. Putting his hands on her in such a familiar way was inappropriate, and they both knew it. At the moment, he was too upset to care.

A knot tightened in his throat. “Ellie, I don’t understand,” he said. “A convenient relationship? What’s that supposed to mean?”

His face must have shown how hurt he was because her features softened. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said convenient,” she answered. “But you know exactly what I’m talking about. You and I run around together because it’s easy. It’s comfortable. But we’re not in love with each other and you know it.” With a sigh, she fixed him with a penetrating look. “Now stop feeling sorry for yourself and hear what I’m saying. It’s for the best for both of us.” She waited a moment, then added, “You know I’m right.”

He glanced away, not ready to concede, no matter how right she was. He looked back at her and she offered a faint smile.

“Who told you to propose to me?” she asked him.

Flushing, Thomas felt a rush of guilt. She knew him so well. “My mother.”

“Exactly.” Ellie’s eyes narrowed, making him feel as if he was one of her students who’d been caught staring out the schoolroom window instead of attending to his math.

“And what did your mam say?” Ellie demanded as she folded her arms. “Exactly.”

He exhaled. “That it was time I had a family of my own.” He ground the toe of his work boot into the soft grass. “That you were a sensible young woman who would keep me in line, and I was foolish if I didn’t pop the question before someone else did.”

“Do those seem like good reasons?”

He gripped his hat so hard that the brim crushed between his fingers. He was devastated...sort of. “But we get along so well,” he hedged. “And everyone says—”

“That because we have fun together, we should spend the rest of our lives as husband and wife?” She shook her head. “Not good enough. Not for me. Not for you.” She was quiet for a moment and then went on. “And the truth is, Thomas, you’re relieved. I can see it in your face. You weren’t all that eager to tie the knot with me, no matter what your mother or anyone else said. Were you?” she pressed.

He wanted to protest, but Ellie was right. He was more surprised and embarrassed than brokenhearted. And he did feel a sense of faint but unmistakable relief. “No chance you’ll reconsider?” he asked lamely.

She shook her head, took hold of his hand and jumped down onto the lane. “I’m not the special one for you, Thomas. If I was, you’d know it.”

“You think?” He sank down on the log. “I’m not so sure. I’ve dated practically every unmarried Amish girl in the county and a lot of girls from other places. My buddies all found someone they wanted to spend the rest of their lives with, but not me...” He looked at her. “Maybe there’s something wrong with me. Maybe I’m not meant to be married and have a family.”

“Nonsense.” Ellie picked up her books and brushed off the bits of grass that clung to the covers. “Your mother’s right about one thing. It is time you married. Past time. I think your problem is that you don’t know how to find the right woman. You’re looking for the wrong things. You’re looking at the wrong things, mostly pretty faces. Married life isn’t just about fun and sweet smiles, Thomas.”

“Now you definitely sound like my mother.” He dropped his hat onto his lap, leaned forward and buried his fingers in his hair. The way Ellie put it, it made him sound shallow. And maybe there was some truth to the accusation. He’d been attracted to Ellie because of her cute figure, her pretty face and her sparkling personality. He liked pretty girls. And he liked to have fun. Was that so wrong?

“I sound like your mother because she’s right. I’m right,” Ellie insisted. “You want a wife and a family, don’t you? You want to father children and live our faith?”

“Of course. I just don’t—” He sighed. “I guess I don’t know how to find that.”

“Exactly. So what I’m thinking is that you need some help.” She poked him with her finger. “You need someone to make a good match for you. You can’t just look for a pretty face. You have to look deeper than that and find what’s important in a partner. You need the matchmaker’s help. You need Sara Yoder.”

“You think I need a matchmaker?” he scoffed, meeting her gaze.

“Why not?” Ellie shrugged. “She’s very good at it and it’s not as though you’re a hopeless case. You have a lot to offer a woman. You have a trade—two trades, if you count blacksmithing.”

He frowned. “I’m a terrible blacksmith.”

“Okay, but you’re a decent rough carpenter. And you know something about farming. You have that promise of land from your grandfather, and you own a horse and buggy.” She studied him carefully. “And you have a good heart and a strong back,” she allowed. “You’ve never been afraid of hard work.”

He flashed her a grin, recovering some of his equilibrium. “Not to mention that girls think I’m handsome.”

“Humph.” She puckered her lips. “Prideful, the bishop would say. And a show-off.”

“I am not,” he protested, rising to his feet.

“Red and blue blinking lights on your buggy?” She shook her head and sighed. “Thomas, I’m serious. You need to talk to Sara.”

He thought for a minute. It had never occurred to him to hire the services of the local matchmaker. He’d always thought matchmakers were for people who couldn’t get a date. That certainly didn’t apply to him. He’d walked out with more girls in the last ten years than he could count. But Ellie was a sensible woman. Probably the most sensible he’d ever known. He knew he’d do well to take her advice. “Do you really think Sara could help me find a wife?”

“Absolutely. But pray on it. With your history, even Sara Yoder will need all the help she can get.”

* * *

“Why do I think the two of you invited me here for something other than my rhubarb pie recipe?” Sara Yoder asked as she took a chair at Hannah’s kitchen table. Hannah, her dearest friend as well as a cousin, had sent one of her grandsons with a note to ask if she could come over at four.

Since the weather was pleasant and the two houses were less than a mile apart, Sara had walked. She liked being active. She was usually up by six and going until long after the sun had set. Not that it had done much for her figure. Despite her busy lifestyle, she remained hearty. She supposed it was partly that she loved to eat and partly because her mother had been substantial in size.

At the back door, Hannah’s widowed daughter, Leah, recently returned from a long stay in South America, had taken Sara’s denim coat and black outer bonnet and given her a big hug. Sara hadn’t gotten a chance to get to know Leah yet, and she was pleased that she was there this afternoon.

“I’m so glad you could come,” Hannah exclaimed as she dropped into a seat across from Sara. “We’ve been making vegetable soup and canning it. Cleaning out the cellar. Soon enough we’ll have fresh vegetables again and I never like to save canned goods from one year to the next. I have a couple of quarts of soup for you. Too many to carry, but Leah can drive you home.”

Leah wasn’t Amish anymore, although in her plain blue dress and navy wool scarf she appeared so. When she’d married Daniel Brown several years earlier, she’d joined the Mennonite church. The Mennonites, close in belief to the Amish, were not as strict in daily lifestyle and permitted motor vehicles. Sara assumed that the small black automobile in the yard was Leah’s.

Smiling, Leah brought a pitcher of cream and an old pewter bowl filled with raw sugar to the table. “Tea is such a treat,” she said, joining them and pouring the first cup of tea for Sara. “I can’t get enough of it. They have wonderful coffee in Brazil, but it was impossible to find decent tea.”

All of Hannah’s daughters were known for their liveliness and independence, but Leah was the one who residents of Seven Poplars saw as the most independent. After her marriage, Leah had left Delaware to follow her new husband to do missionary work among the indigenous people of the Amazon. There, in an isolated outpost, the young couple had operated a school, a store and a basic medical clinic. Then tragedy had struck. Leah had lost both her husband and her child to a deadly fever. Unwilling to leave her adopted community in need, Leah had remained more than a year until another team could be sent as replacements. Now, she’d returned to her childhood home to pick up the pieces of her life.

Leah might have been the rebel of the Yoder girls but, of all of Hannah’s daughters, she was certainly the prettiest, Sara decided, looking across the table at her. Her red hair, blue eyes and flawless complexion made her a real beauty, more attractive even than Violet Hershberger, who was considered the cutest and most eligible girl in the county. But Leah’s almond-shaped eyes held a depth of sorrow that gave her a fragility of spirit not evident in Violet or any of the other young women in the county. Leah seemed cheerful and strong enough physically. She laughed as readily as her sisters, but Sara could sense a vulnerability in Leah that tugged at her heart. It was obvious that she was still in pain from her loss, but Sara could see that she was making an effort to be a part of the world again. And she seemed to be succeeding.

Sara considered herself a sensible woman, one not easily swayed from the right path by emotion or hasty decisions. But she couldn’t deny that she felt drawn to this girl and felt an instant desire to do whatever she could to help her. “It was nice of you to invite me for tea, but did you ask me here for the reason I suspect?” Sara asked.

Leah smiled and her cheeks blushed. “I think it’s time I wed again and my family’s in agreement.”

“I’m glad you called on me, then. I’ve brokered a few Mennonite marriages, though you may have to be patient with me while I talk with some friends at the local church.”

“Actually,” Hannah said. “Leah has decided—” She broke off abruptly as her youngest daughter, Susanna, came into the kitchen with a basket of clothing she must have just taken in off the clothesline. Susanna had been born with Down syndrome and she and her husband David, also mentally challenged, made their home with Hannah and her husband Albert.

“The wind is picking up, isn’t it?” Sara said to Susanna. She could smell the wholesome scents of sunshine and spring breezes on the clothes the young woman carried in the basket.

Susanna, red cheeked and beaming, nodded. “Ya. Almost blew me over.”

“Ach, Susanna. You’re about to lose your scarf.” Hannah rose and went to her daughter, untied the navy cotton scarf and retied it in place over her daughter’s braided and pinned up auburn hair.

“Danki, Mam.” Susanna giggled, her round face creasing into folds of pleasure. “As soon as I...” Susanna’s forehead crinkled as she struggled to find the right words and pronounce them correctly. “Fold the sheets,” she managed. “David’s gonna show me new kittens in the loft. He said ‘Susanna, you help name them.’” She nodded excitedly. “They need names!”

“That sounds wonderful,” Sara exclaimed, and then waited for Susanna to take her leave. Sara didn’t need to be reminded not to speak of matchmaking business in front of Hannah’s youngest. As delightful as Susanna was, whatever she heard, she repeated. It was impossible for Susanna to keep a secret. Arranged marriages were confidential between the candidates and the matchmaker, not food for neighborhood gossip.

Hannah took the laundry basket from her daughter. “Would you like me to help you fold? We’ll take these sheets upstairs and put them away and then you can go and see the kittens.”

“Ya, Mam.” Susanna giggled again. “I’m gonna see the new kittens. We’re gonna name them, me and David. I love David.”

Hannah smiled lovingly. “I know you do. Now come along.”

Leah waited until her mother and sister were out of the room before adding more tea to Hannah’s cup and her own. Then she took her cup in both hands, gazed down into the swirling liquid and said, “I want to marry again, Cousin Sara.” She sighed. “It’s been more than a year since I lost my Daniel and our little one and...I’m the kind of person who needs to be married. It’s what God has always wanted for me.” Her eyes teared up. “I want a husband and children.” She looked up, unashamed of her tears. “Can you help me find a husband?”

Sara leaned forward. “Of course. As I started to say, my contacts among the Mennonite faith are not as extensive as—”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Leah interrupted. “I didn’t make myself clear. I mean to return to the Amish church. I became Mennonite for Daniel, as was right. I believe it was God’s plan for me at the time. And now, I think He means for me to accept the Amish way of life again.”

Sara reached for a sugar cookie on a blue-and-white plate. “I assume you’ve considered this carefully? You’ve lived with many conveniences since your marriage. Are you sure that you can live Plain, as you did as a child?”

Leah didn’t answer at once, and Sara liked that. This was no flighty young woman who chose first one path and then another on a whim. Sara nibbled at the cookie and sipped her tea.

“I’ve thought of little else since I left Brazil,” Leah said finally. She offered a half smile. “I loved my husband. I’ve mourned him with all my heart. I think I will grieve for him until my last breath, even though I know he’s in heaven. Grieve for myself, I suppose. But ours was a good marriage, a strong one, and I want that again. I’m young enough to bear more children, as many as God will send me, and to marry again just seems...right.”

“Children are our greatest blessing,” Sara said. She had never been fortunate enough to have a child, but she had loved many children and hoped to love more. Why God chose to not give some women children—or to take them away—she would never understand. “The ways of the Lord are often a mystery to us, aren’t they?” she murmured.

“Ya,” Leah agreed. “I thought I would lose my mind in those first months after I lost them. I know I shed enough tears to raise the level of the Amazon River, but, fortunately, I had our work. We had a small school and Daniel’s clinic. He had been a nurse and I learned so much from him working at his side. After he was gone, there was no one else to help and I had to make do.” She looked up and Sara gazed into the depths of those cornflower-blue eyes. “I delivered babies, sewed up knife wounds and set broken arms and legs. I was too busy to think much about what I wanted for myself when I could come home.”

“But you knew that you wanted to come home to Seven Poplars?” Sara asked.

Leah nibbled absently at a knuckle. Her hands were slender, her nails clean and filed. They were strong hands to go with her strong spirit, Sara thought.

“There was no question of my staying in Brazil as a woman alone. I wouldn’t even have remained there as long as I did, but there was unrest. Trouble between the lumber contractors and the native people. And there were floods. They were so bad that our clinic was cut off from the nearest town for quite some time. It wasn’t safe for a new team to come in. It was a blessing, really. I had a chance to say my goodbyes and see the school and clinic put in good hands before I left.” Leah shook her head. “But I won’t bore you with my memories. If you think you can help me, then I want to tell you what I require in a husband.”

“I could never be bored with tales of your experiences in Brazil,” Sara assured her. “But it would be helpful if you tell me what your expectations are in a husband.”

Leah steepled her hands and leaned forward on the kitchen table. “First, he must be Amish, of strong faith and respected in the community. I would prefer a mature man, a middle-aged widower, someone who may already have children. How old doesn’t matter, so long as he isn’t too old to father children.”

Sara pressed her lips together to keep from smiling inappropriately. This adventurous child of her cousin was certainly outspoken. Whether it was her nature or a trait she’d picked up in her travels, Sara wasn’t certain. It was all she could do to not show her amusement. “You’re still a young woman,” she said. “Not yet thirty. Are you certain you wouldn’t prefer a younger bachelor?”

“Ne. I’m sure of it,” Leah said firmly. “I’ve been the wife of a young man. I married for love. I’ll never have that again, and I know that. I’m a realistic woman, Cousin Sara. I know that affection and respect may lead to a different type of love someday.” She met Sara’s gaze. “I want someone different for a second husband, someone I’ll not ever compare to my Daniel.”

Sara nodded thoughtfully, and while she didn’t know that she was in agreement, she certainly understood what Leah was saying. “Do you have a choice of occupations?” she asked. “Farmer? Carpenter?”

“It matters not. I’m used to making do with few material goods. I ask only for a husband who isn’t lazy and will be a good example for our children. He must know how much I want more children.” Leah’s voice took on a breathy tone. “I could not bear it if I never rocked another baby in my arms or woke to see my precious child’s shining face beaming in wonder at the new day.” She inhaled deeply. “So you see, it might be best if my husband-to-be already has children. I can adapt to any personality, but he must be someone who will welcome children and not treat them harshly.”

“Or treat you harshly,” Sara suggested.

Leah shrugged. “I can accept whatever the Lord sends me. I’ll be a good and dutiful wife, so long as he knows that my children must come first. My Daniel was an indulgent father. He adored our...” Tears glistened in her eyes again. She looked down, took a moment, then looked up at Sara again. “I want to be sure I’m being clear, Cousin Sara. What I want is a marriage of convenience, a union entered into for the purpose of forming a solid family. I’m not afraid of hard work, and I’ll be the best wife and helpmate I can. But I need a sensible man, a practical man who doesn’t expect more than I can give.” She hesitated. “Because part of me died in Brazil, Sara. All I can do is go on with what I have left.”

“You don’t believe in the possibility of a second love?” Sara asked gently. “Not when you see how happy your mother is with Albert, after the death of your father?”

“I’m not my mother,” Leah replied, sitting back in her chair. “I honor her, and I love her, but we are not the same. She and my father had many years together and time to form many memories. Daniel and I... It went by so quickly. Too quickly.”

Sara considered the young widow’s words. “Wouldn’t your Daniel want you to be happy?”

“Of course.” Leah smiled through the tears. “But I know myself. I know what I want. Offer me no lighthearted, carefree noodle-heads. I’m seeking a sober and steady husband, one with gray in his hair, who knows what it is to suffer loss. Can you find me such a man?”

Sara reached across the table and took Leah’s hands in hers. “I will do my best to find what you need in a husband. But you must remember, I can’t promise you children or happiness. We are all in God’s grace and we cannot see the path He plans for us.”

“I understand,” Leah agreed. She squeezed Sara’s hands and then pulled free. “And I was hoping that you would have room for me at your house. Where I could stay.”

“Certainly,” Sara agreed, genuinely surprised by the request. “But what about your mother? Surely, Hannah must want you here with her.”

“I don’t think that would be best,” Leah said firmly. “You know my mother. She’d want to put her spoon in my soup pot. I love this house and I love my family. But I’m not ready to fall into the habit of being a dutiful child again. You know exactly what I mean. I’m sure you’ve seen it before. A young widow returns home to her parents’ house and the next thing you know, twenty-five years have passed and her mother is still cooking her supper and hanging out her laundry. No. I’ll come to your home and put myself in your capable hands.”

She rose and picked up her teacup to carry to the sink. “Find me a husband, Cousin Sara.”

Chapter Two

Leah drove her little car slowly down her mother’s driveway, savoring the familiar sights of green fields, grazing cows and her brother-in-law plowing with a four-horse team. Beside her sat Sara, several quarts of vegetable soup in a basket at her feet.

“It’s so strange to be back in Seven Poplars,” Leah said as she came to a stop at the edge of the blacktop and looked both ways for traffic. A buggy passed the mailbox, and several automobiles approached from the opposite direction, so she waited until it was safe to pull out. “One minute I feel like an outsider, and a few minutes later, it’s as if I never left home.”

“For me, it’s much like that, too,” Sara agreed. “I haven’t been in Delaware that long, but most of the time, I feel like I was born and raised here. Your mother and I have been close since we were children, but I didn’t know anyone else until I got here. It was a pleasant surprise to find all of Seven Poplars so welcoming.”

“I’m so glad.” Leah smiled at her. Plump Sara’s hair was dark and curly, her eyes the shade of ripe blackberries and her complexion a warm mocha. Although a generation older, Sara was a widow like Leah. And Sara had also made major changes in her life after she was left alone.

When it was safe, Leah turned onto the blacktop in her little black Honda and smiled to herself, suddenly glad she’d decided to put her future in Sara’s hands. She instinctively felt she could trust Sara, maybe even more than she could trust herself right now, which was why she’d decided to hire a matchmaker to find her a husband.

“Do you have a preference on where you live?” Sara asked, breaking into Leah’s thoughts. “Does it have to be in Seven Poplars, or just in Delaware?”

Leah nodded. “I’d love to stay in Seven Poplars, but I know that’s not likely. Though maybe you’d find a man looking to relocate here. Anywhere in Delaware would be fine. I just don’t want to live so far from my family and friends that I can’t visit again. I missed them so when I lived in Brazil.”

“I can understand why you’d want to stay here. This is a special community. Still, many young women might wish that they had had your opportunity—to travel so far to another country,” Sara observed. “To see so many different kinds of people and to live in a jungle.”

“It was an amazing experience. I feel blessed to have served God as a missionary. I already miss the friends I made there.” Leah’s throat clenched as she remembered the Brazilians standing on the muddy riverbank to wave goodbye. Small Pio clinging to his grandfather’s leg, gentle Caridade nursing her new baby girl, and the collection of village elders, all in their finest basketball shorts, rubber-tire flip-flops and feathered headdresses. And around them their most precious possessions—the beautiful children, shrieking with laughter, heedless of the ever-present dangers of poisonous snakes, caimans and piranhas in the swirling, dark water.

“Their lives are so different from ours, harsher, and less certain,” Leah murmured. “I went to teach, but ended up receiving far more than I gave.”

“And do you have a timeline in mind? How soon would you like to marry?” Sara asked pointedly.

“As soon as possible.” Leah gripped the wheel, confident in her response. “It’s time I was married, and God willing, I want another child as soon as possible.” It felt good that she could finally keep her voice from breaking when she spoke of being a mother again. God truly was good, and time, if it didn’t heal wounds, made them easier to bear. “Is that a problem?” she asked Sara.

“Not at all,” Sara answered warmly. “You’re past the mourning stage of widowhood. At your age, most would agree, the sooner the better.”

Leah nodded as they approached a tall Amish man striding along on the shoulder of the road. Recognizing him, she slowed and waved. It was her brother-in-law Charley’s friend Thomas Stutzman.

Sara waved and then glanced back at Thomas as they passed him. “Wait! Stop the car.”

Startled, Leah braked, looking anxiously to see if she’d barely missed some hazard. “Something wrong?”

“Ne.” Sara shook her head and motioned toward the side of the road. “Pull over onto the shoulder, can you? We should... I want to give Thomas some soup for his grandparents.”

“Of course.” Leah pulled over and put on her flashers.

Sara got out of the car and motioned to the man. “Thomas! Hop in. We have some soup here for your grandparents.”

Leah watched in the rearview mirror as Thomas approached the car. He and Sara exchanged words, but Leah couldn’t make out any of what they were saying. Then Sara turned back toward the car. “No more than you could have expected. Ellie’s quite set in her ways,” Sara said as she walked back to the car and opened the rear door. “Get in. Leah won’t mind driving you home. You can hardly walk and carry quarts of soup down the road. But you’re headed in the opposite direction. You weren’t headed home, were you?” She gave a wave, indicating again that he should get in. “No matter.”

Thomas, seeming to realize there was no sense arguing with Sara, folded his long frame and climbed into the back. His head nearly brushed the roof so he removed his hat and dropped it into his lap. “Leah,” he said in greeting.

“Thomas.” Her backseat was small, and Thomas had broad shoulders. He took up most of it, even before he removed his hat.

Leah had seen him at church services the previous week. He was Charley’s age, older than she was, but he’d always seemed younger. Her sister Rebecca had told her that Thomas was still unmarried, but walking out with the little schoolteacher. Leah wished her well. Thomas was a good guy, though not the sort of man she’d be interested in. Thomas was far too immature and happy-go-lucky to suit her. And too self-centered.

“Your mother lets you keep a car at her house?” Thomas asked, glancing around the vehicle as he put on his seat belt. “I know you Mennonites drive, but...” He didn’t finish whatever it was he was going to say.

“We do drive.” Leah put the car into gear and eased back onto the road. “This car belonged to my late husband’s cousin. Ben moved to Mexico to serve as a missionary and he gave it to me.”

“Hannah doesn’t object to Leah driving.” Her arms crossed, Sara looked over her shoulder at Thomas. “Leah’s Mennonite sister Grace drives every day, doesn’t she? And Leah’s stepfather has his pickup for veterinary emergencies. Bishop Atlee approved.” She chuckled. “Leah isn’t a child anymore. She respects her mother, but she doesn’t ask for permission on how to conduct herself.”

“That’s what I tell my mother,” Thomas said. “About me.”

Sara made a small sound of disbelief. “And how does that work?”

“Not very well.”

“Didn’t think so,” Sara replied.

“Doesn’t work so well with my mam, either,” Leah said with a grin. “It’s why I’m going to stay at Sara’s.” She kept her eyes on the road. “I’d be happy to drop the soup off at your grandparents’,” she assured him, “if you’re headed somewhere else?”

“I’m going to Sara’s actually,” Thomas admitted sheepishly. “I left my horse and buggy there. Ellie—she’s my girl—was my girl—Ellie likes to walk home after school on nice days like this. I thought it would be a surprise if I walked over and carried her books home.”

“Ach,” Sara said. “And it was you who got the surprise, wasn’t it?”

“Ya,” he admitted. He exhaled and went on. “I asked her to marry me and she turned me down.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Leah glanced at Thomas in the rearview mirror again. He didn’t seem all that upset for a man who’d just proposed to a girl and been turned down. Seemed more put out than anything.

“Tough to be told no, but tougher to marry the wrong girl,” Sara observed. “No need for you to take it personal, though, Thomas. Ellie’s been saying for months how happy she is teaching at the school. You just weren’t listening. You know the board wouldn’t keep her on if she married. She likes her independence, our Ellie.”

“I knew that she said that,” Thomas said. “But how was I to know that she meant it?”

Leah turned into Sara’s driveway.

“By tonight, everyone in Seven Poplars will know Ellie refused me,” Thomas went on. “I’m going to look pretty foolish.”

“Ne.” Sara shook her head. “Not true. You’re not the first one to be turned down in Seven Poplars and you won’t be the last. But maybe this will teach you to listen to what a woman says. She told you she wasn’t going to marry you. I heard it myself.”

“Guess I should have listened,” Thomas admitted.

“I do know a thing or two about compatible couples,” Sara said. “Which reminds me. I’m giving a get-together on Friday night in my barn. You should come, Thomas. There will be eligible young women there. I want to have games, as well as food and singing.”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure I’d be good company.”

“Nonsense,” Sara replied. “I could use your help setting up. And if you don’t come, you’ll just sit home feeling sorry for yourself.”

“I suppose I could make the effort. If you need me, I could come for a while, just to help out.”

“It will do you good. Take your mind off losing Ellie.” Sara clasped her hands together and turned to Leah. “And you should come, too. It should be a lively evening—you’ll enjoy yourself. And you and Thomas can catch up.”

Leah eased the car to a stop near Sara’s back door and Sara handed Thomas two quarts of the soup from the basket on the floor beside her feet.

“Thanks for the ride,” Thomas said, getting out on the driver’s side, a jar in each hand. “And for the soup. I know my grandparents will appreciate it.”

“No trouble.” Leah smiled at him, leaning through the window. “It’s not as though I took you far.”

He started toward his buggy, parked on the far side of the barnyard, then turned back to her. “It’s good to have you home again, Leah.” Then he grimaced. “That didn’t come out right. I mean, I know that you’d rather not have...that...” He looked down and then up at her, meeting her gaze. “I’m really sorry about Daniel and your little one.”

Leah was touched by the emotion she heard in his voice. “Please don’t feel that you have to tiptoe around me. This is a new start for me. What better place than home, where I have so much support?”

“Ya,” Thomas agreed. He stood there for a second, then offered her the handsome grin that Amish girls all over the county talked about. “Well, see you.”

Leah turned in the seat to face Sara as soon as Thomas was out of earshot. “I hope you weren’t thinking of Thomas for me.”

“Nothing wrong with Thomas that a little attitude adjusting can’t fix,” Sara said, getting out of the car.

Leah shook her head. “I wasn’t criticizing him. It’s just that he’s too young, too...” She shrugged. “I don’t know. Not a man I could call husband.”

“Don’t worry,” Sara assured her, picking up the basket with the soup. “I think I know exactly what you need.” She closed the door and leaned down to speak through the open window. “Which is why you should come to the frolic.”

Leah groaned and rested her hands on the steering wheel. “It’s been a long time since I was single. I’m afraid I’ll feel out of place with the younger girls and fellows.”

“You won’t. I’ve invited people of all ages. And it will give you a chance to reacquaint yourself with the singles in our community. There’s a vanload coming from Virginia, as well, so there will be plenty of new faces.” She held up one hand. “I know, no Virginian, unless he’s willing to relocate. I just mean there will be interesting people to talk with—men and women.”

“Mam tells me that you’ve made a lot of good matches. Still, I have to admit that I’m nervous.”

“You won’t be alone in that, but we’ll muddle through.” Sara chuckled. “We should have a nice-sized crowd Friday night. And Hannah told me that you have a lovely singing voice. We can always use another strong voice. Would you like to come in and see the room I have for you? You can move in as soon as you’d like.”

“I don’t need to see the room. I’m sure it will be fine.” Leah glanced in Thomas’s direction as he untied his horse’s tie rope and slipped on the bridle. “I think I’d like to come tomorrow, if that suits you.”

“It suits me fine.” Sara watched as Thomas climbed up into his buggy. “He’s a good man, Leah. Don’t sell him short.”

Leah pursed her lips thoughtfully. “He doesn’t seem all that broken up over losing Ellie.”

“Because she wasn’t the right one for him.” Sara smiled and held up the basket. “I do appreciate not having to cook supper tonight. Your mother makes good soup.”

“I know,” Leah said. “It was one of the things I kept dreaming about when I was in Brazil—my mother’s cooking.” She paused. “You don’t think I’m rushing it, do you? You don’t think it’s too soon to look for a husband?”

Sara smiled kindly. “Ne, I don’t think you are. It’s only right that we grieve for those we’ve loved and lost. But it would deny God’s gifts if you couldn’t continue on with life. A new marriage will give you a new beginning. I promise you, Leah. I’ll find someone who will lift the sadness from your heart.”

“It’s what I want, too,” Leah agreed, starting the engine of the little black car. “God willing, we can do this together.”

* * *

Thomas stepped into the kitchen of Sara’s hospitality barn. Bright lights illuminated the immaculate food-preparation area. The kitchen wasn’t large, as Amish kitchens went, but it had a propane-powered refrigerator, double sinks, a freezer, a commercial stove and new butcher-block counters. Leah was the only one there, and she was busy making sandwiches.

“Hey,” Thomas said. He leaned jauntily against the double-door refrigerator. “Could you use some help?”

“Thanks, but I’m almost done.” Leah deftly spread some of her sister Ruth’s famous horseradish mustard on a slice of homemade rye bread and stacked on ham, cheese and pickles. “I thought Sara had too much food, but apparently not.” She chuckled. “A hungry bunch, those Virginians.”

“Probably the long ride. They’re staying over until Monday. Fred Petersheim told me that there’s talk they’ll come quarterly. He’s the short, gray-bearded farmer you were talking to.”

“Ya.” Leah nodded. “He talks a lot.”

Thomas grinned. “About his Holsteins.” Thomas had noticed that the older man had cornered Leah earlier in the evening. “He told me he lost his wife last winter. Does he have children?”

“Six, but two are grown and out of the house,” Leah responded. “The rest are girls.”

“He seems like a respectable man. I doubt Sara would invite him if he wasn’t.” Seeing that there were dirty dishes and silverware in the sink, he rolled up his sleeves, washed his hands and began to run warm water over the dishes. “I may as well wash these up,” he said. A dishwasher was the one appliance Sara didn’t have. With so much available help, she’d never seen the need.

“Are they still playing Dutch Blitz?” Leah placed the sandwich halves on a tray one by one. “I saw you won the first round.”

“Lost the second,” he said. “Ya, they’re playing. Couples now.” He reached under the sink for the dishwashing soap. “So, you’ve decided to let Sara make a match for you?”

Leah glanced over at him. “God willing. Sara seems pretty optimistic.” She gave him a quizzical look. “Is she trying to find a wife for you?”

“I’m thinking about it. Ellie suggested it.” He made a face. “I haven’t had any success on my own.”

Leah tried to open a quart jar of spiced peaches, but the lid was stuck. “Do you think you could open this?” Her vivid blue eyes regarded him hopefully. “Sometimes these lids are on so tight that it’s impossible to get them off.”

“Sure.” Thomas dried his hands on a towel and took the peaches. The ring gave easily under his strength. Without asking, he opened the other jar that she’d put on the counter beside the sandwiches. “Here you go.”

“Danki.”

Leah smiled her thanks and he was struck again by just how attractive she was. She didn’t look like a woman who’d been married and had a child. She hardly looked more than nineteen. Before she’d wed Daniel Brown and gone to Brazil with him, most people said she was the prettiest girl in Kent County, Amish or Englisher. He and Leah had never dated because she was a lot younger than he was and didn’t run with the same crowd. It was a shame she’d suffered such loss. But it did his heart good to see her here, still able to smile after all she’d been through.

Leah dumped the peaches into a blue-flowered bowl. “I’m surprised that you and Ellie are still speaking, let alone her giving you advice on finding a wife.”

He grimaced. “I’ll admit that I’m still smarting from the blow of her refusing me, but we’re too good of friends to let that come between us.”

“Sensible.”

“She’s special, Ellie. She’ll make some man a good wife. I’m just sorry it won’t be me.”

“It says something about you, Thomas,” Leah said, “that her being a little person didn’t matter to you. If you had married, your children may have been short statured, like her.”

“Ya, I did think about that. But it would have been in God’s hands. And who’s to say that being six feet tall is any better than being four feet tall?”

“Your parents didn’t mind?”

Thomas returned to washing the utensils in the sink. “My father huffed and puffed, but my grandfather reminded him that he had an uncle who had only one arm. He said that Uncle Otto could outwork any man he knew. And once Mam and Dat got to know Ellie, it wasn’t a problem anymore.”

“Your grandfather sounds like a wise man.”

“And a good one. He’s been good to me. My brother will inherit my father’s farm, but my grandfather has promised his to me. I was supposed to take up his trade, his and my dat’s, of smithing, but I’m not sure it’s what I want to do.” He lifted a dripping colander from the soapy water and rinsed it under the tap.

“Were you trained as a blacksmith?”

He nodded. “Ya. I was, but I think everyone is beginning to realize I may not be cut out for it. Grossdaddi has arranged for a new apprentice, Jakob Schwartz from Indiana. He’s arriving tomorrow.” Taking a clean towel, Thomas carefully dried the colander and put it in the cabinet under the sink. “Jakob’s little, like Ellie, but Grossdaddi says he has the makings of a fine smith.” He glanced at her. “You need the strength in the arms. Height doesn’t matter.”

Leah removed her oversize work apron. She was wearing a dark plum dress with a starched white Mennonite prayer kapp. “I suppose I should get these sandwiches out there.”

“The platter is heavy. Let me,” he offered.

“I can do it. I’m used to lifting heavy objects. Once, one of our parishioners brought home a quarter of a cow.” Leah rolled her eyes. “I didn’t ask where he’d gotten the beef. There was always a running feud between the farmers and the indigenous people.” She picked up the tray.

“What was it like, living among them?”

“Wonderful. Awful. I never knew what kind of day we were going to have, one where nothing happened or one where the world turned upside down.” She chuckled. “A fine missionary I turned out to be. I could never even pronounce or spell the name our people called themselves. They are listed in our rolls as the St. Joseph tribe or the St. Joes.”

“I’d like to hear more about them,” Thomas admitted. “I’m curious as to what they’re like.”

She gave him a surprised look and set the tray down. “Really? You’re one of the few to ask. Since I’ve come home, I mean.”

He nodded. “Ya, I’m sure. But I’ve always been interested in the English world.” He grimaced. “That didn’t sound right, did it?”

She chuckled. “Ne, Thomas, it didn’t. I wouldn’t expect you to know, but I can’t imagine a life more un-English than our village. But to them, it is all the world. Like us, most of the St. Joes want to remain apart, with their customs and their jungle.”

He felt a flush of tingling warmth at the way she said his name, slow and sweet. He shifted his feet, suddenly feeling the conversation was getting too serious. “But what about that mysteriously acquired beef? Did you eat it?”

She laughed. “We all did. It was the season when protein is scarce. There were hungry people to be fed, so I asked the women to light the cook fires and we had a feast. Our refrigeration unit was very small, just used for medicine. Daniel was concerned that it would set a bad precedent, but I said, ‘Eat the cow or let her go to waste, and that doesn’t sound very sensible.’”

“And did Daniel eat the meat?”

Leah shook her head. “It didn’t keep me from enjoying every bite.”

Thomas laughed, then grew more serious. “This has got to be hard...coming home. Starting again.”

“Ya,” Leah agreed.

Thomas’s throat tightened. Leah had suffered a great loss. He had to admire her courage. “So I guess this—” he motioned toward the gathering beyond the door “—is as awkward for you as it is for me?”

“It is,” she said. “I didn’t want to come.” She shrugged. “But Sara is very persuasive.”

“Truer words,” Thomas agreed as he picked up the platter of sandwiches. “So...back we go to meet Sara’s likely candidates and hope for the best.”

“Ya.” Leah’s smile was mischievous. “And be prepared to hear a lot more about Holsteins.”

Chapter Three

Thomas pushed open the sliding wooden doors to his grandfather’s forge to catch some of the midmorning breeze. It was stifling inside, and he’d started to beat the last of the wrought-iron hinges into shape. Returning to his task, he used long-handled tongs to lift a smoking hinge into the sunlight to get a good look at it before plunging it back into the glowing coals.

His grandfather watched, faded blue eyes narrowed with concentration. “Goot,” he said. “A little more. Feel the shape in your mind, Thomas. Strike hard and true.”

Thomas swung the hammer again and again. The shock resonated through his body, but he paid it no mind. He was used to it. He didn’t mind hard work. It was this work he disliked.

Patience, he told himself.

Again and again he struck hammer to iron. Slowly the iron yielded to the shape he wanted. He knew it was good and he should have been pleased, but he took little pleasure in the forge. He much preferred digging in the soil or building with wood and brick. He’d been born to a family with a tradition of blacksmithing going back to the old country, but he had no heart for it. Never had.

“Ya.” Obadiah nodded. “Ya. That is the way. Was that so hard?”

Thomas placed the finished piece beside the others to cool and turned toward his grandfather. The gray-haired man held out a small bucket. Thomas took it, drank and then dumped the remainder of the cool well water over his head. It ran down his neck and shirt to wet his leather apron and forge trousers, but he didn’t care. The pants and shirt would dry soon enough and both trousers and apron were scorched and riddled with holes.

His grandfather chuckled. “Always with you the heat, Thomas. The heat never bothers me.”

And it never did. For sixty-five years Obadiah Stutzman had labored in a forge, and the flames and red-hot metal had only made him tougher. Past eighty now, his shoulders were still formidable and the muscles in his arms were knotted sinews. Thomas loved him as he loved his mother and father. He couldn’t imagine what life would be like without Grossdaddi watching over his shoulder, hearing the raspy voice hissing in Deitsch, “Strike harder, boy. Feel the iron.” Thomas had always wanted to please him, but spending his life within the walls of this forge, he didn’t know that he could do it.

Thomas walked to the open doorway and squatted on the hard-packed earth, letting the warm sunshine fall full on his face. He ran a hand through his damp hair and let his muscles rest from the strain of swinging the hammer.

In the distance, a calf bawled, its call quickly answered by the mother’s deeper mooing. The farmyard stretched out in front of Thomas, familiar and comforting as always. Chickens squawked and scratched, earnestly searching for worms or insects. One hen was trailed by six fluffy chicks and a single yellow-and-brown duckling. Thomas smiled at the sight, knowing that when they came to the first puddle the foundling would terrify its adopted mother by plunging in and swimming. Maybe I’m that duckling, he thought, always ready for fun, never quite fitting in or doing what I’m expected to do by my family.

His grandfather came to stand beside him. “A sight you look,” Obadiah said. “Goot thing your mother is to the house. Doesn’t see you without a hat to cover your head in God’s presence.”

Thomas glanced guiltily at the wall where his straw hat hung on a peg. He never wore it in the forge for fear of it catching fire. Grossdaddi wore an old felt dress hat with the brim cut off over his thinning gray hair, but Thomas wasn’t ready to be seen in such a thing, so he worked bareheaded.

“When do you expect Jakob to get here?” he asked. His father had told him at morning milking that the new apprentice was arriving today. He’d be staying with them in the big house.

“Anytime now. Hired a driver to bring him from the train station in Wilmington.”

“I liked Jakob when I met him. I hope he works out,” Thomas said. “Hope he likes Seven Poplars.”

“Be a change from Indiana,” his grandfather answered. “You know those folks don’t even have tops on their buggies? Winter and summer, no tops. Their bishops won’t allow it.”

“I’d heard that,” Thomas said.

“How was your social last night? Too bad Jakob couldn’t have been here in time to go along,” Obadiah said.

“It was fine. Good food.”

“Any new girls catch your eye? Your mother said she spoke to Sara yesterday about possibly making you a match.”

“Ne. No one in particular; I spent most of the evening talking to Leah Yoder.” Thomas shook his head. “Honestly, I’m having second thoughts about this matchmaker thing. Don’t see why we need to lay out the money. I’ve never had trouble finding dates.”

Obadiah turned a half-bushel basket upside down, sat on it and took out a penknife. Absently, he began to whittle at a small piece of wood he carried in his pocket. They sat in silence for a few minutes and then his grandfather said, “People say Sara knows her trade. They say give her a chance, she’ll find you a proper wife.”

“Seems foolish, though, doesn’t it? Having her find me a wife? When I could do it myself?”

“But you haven’t.” His grandfather sighed. “Thomas, what can I say? Time you grew up. Started working in the family business. Trouble is, you think you can stay free and single year after year. You like the pretty girls. I can see it. But when talk turns serious, you’re off after the next one.”

Thomas felt heat flush his face. “It’s not like that. I thought that Ellie and me would...” He trailed off, not wanting to talk about Ellie. That was still a sore subject. “I’m not certain Sara can find me a match I’d be happy with. She wanted me to meet this woman last night—Hazel something or other. One of the ones who came up from Virginia in the van. Sour as an October persimmon. Little beady eyes and a mouth screwed up so tight I thought she didn’t have front teeth until I saw her eating. I couldn’t imagine looking at that face across a breakfast table every morning.”

Obadiah chuckled. “So, not pretty enough for you?”

Thomas shook his head. “That wasn’t it. Hazel would have been attractive if she hadn’t been so ill-tempered. Not a good word to say about anyone or anything. One complaint after another. She even complained about the potato salad. Said she preferred German potato salad to Sara’s and left it on her plate.”

“One wasteful woman doesn’t ruin the batch. You’re being stubborn. Time you started walking out with a respectable girl.”

“I thought I was when I was with Ellie. And you all liked her.”

His grandfather ignored that and went on. “Bishop Atlee asked me last week if you were planning on going to baptism classes. Way past time, Thomas. I’m going to retire in a few years. Don’t know how much longer I have on this earth. I know I’ve always told you that I wanted to leave this farm to you, but you worry me. I’m starting to have second thoughts. Maybe you mean to drift away from the faith. Maybe you’re too flighty to entrust our family farm to.”

Thomas winced as if his grandfather had struck him. This was the first he’d heard of his grandfather’s hesitation about leaving him the farm. Since he was a boy, he’d expected it would be his someday. His throat clenched. “That’s up to you, Grossdaddi.”

“You should be married. You should have married five years ago. I could have great-grandsons and granddaughters to spoil. I’ve stood up for you to your mother and father, took your side when maybe I should not have.” He exhaled. “You don’t give Sara a chance to find you a wife, I have to take it into consideration that maybe you’ve lost track of what’s important in life.”

Thomas opened his mouth to respond, but his grandfather’s shepherd raised his head and let out a single yip, then leaped up and ran toward the house. Thomas heard the beep of a car horn and the dog began to bark in earnest. “That must be Jakob coming now,” he said, rising to his feet.

“Must be,” his grandfather agreed. “But you think on what I said. I’m worried about you, boy.” He met Thomas’s gaze. “Prove to us all that you are ready to take over this farm. Find a wife, get to churching and be quick about it.”

* * *

Sara smiled at Thomas as they shook hands across her desk. “So we’re in agreement. I’ll make you a match. Keep an open mind, and I’m sure I can find someone who will suit you and your family.”

It had been more than a week since Sara’s barn social. Thomas had spent days wrestling with the idea of asking for help in finding a wife. He’d prayed on it, and he’d considered asking the bishop to add his name to the upcoming classes in preparation for baptism in the fall. But he hadn’t been ready to take that step yet. One obstacle at a time. Maybe finding the right girl would erase the last doubts he had about a Plain life. As much as his parents wanted him to join the faith, they wanted it for the right reasons. It had to wholeheartedly be his choice, not someone else’s. The Old Order Amish lifestyle was a lifetime commitment, one you were supposed to enter with joy.

Tonight, he’d come after supper, as Sara had asked. He hoped that he wouldn’t run into Ellie or Leah. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed about using a matchmaker. It was more that a man’s personal business ought to be private. And what could be more personal than choosing a wife?

Thomas hadn’t mentioned to Sara that his grandfather was threatening to leave the farm to someone else. The possibility of losing the farm hurt, but if Thomas hadn’t thought that maybe his grandfather was right, he would never have agreed to make an official agreement with the matchmaker.

He started to rise from his chair, but Sara waved him back into his seat. They were in her office in her home, a spacious room with comfortable furniture, deep window seats and a colorful braid rug.

“Don’t go yet,” she said. “I have a fresh pot of coffee and a blueberry pie that’s just begging to be sliced.” She made a few more notations on the yellow legal-sized notepad and tucked the sheet into a manila folder.

“How long do you think it will take?” Thomas asked. He rested his straw hat on one knee and looked at her.

“Slicing the pie or finding you a wife?”

He grimaced, still not entirely convinced this whole matchmaker thing was a good idea. “Finding somebody for me.”

“Actually, I already have someone in mind.”

“Not that Hazel girl you introduced me to the other night,” he protested. “I didn’t care for her at all.”

She chuckled. “Not Hazel. Funny you should mention her, though. She and Fred Petersheim hit it off. It seems he didn’t care for my potato salad either.”

Thomas laughed. “I thought it was great.”

“I’m pleased. Now,” she said, rising, “you make yourself at ease. I won’t be a moment. How is it you like your coffee?”

“Sugar and milk. Two sugars.”

“You like it sweet.”

“Ya, I do. I could come out in the kitchen with you,” he suggested. “No need for you to—”

“No. Stay where you are, Thomas.” She walked from the room, closing the door behind her.

Thomas tapped the heel of one boot nervously. He glanced around the room. The pale blue walls were hung with cross-stitch family trees and several large calendars. One showed a farmer plowing with a six-horse team against a rural background. Another showed a mare and newborn foal, the little filly tentatively trying out her new legs in tall clover.

In one corner of the room stood a battered green filing cabinet. He wondered if there was a manila folder in one of the drawers that would hold his future. It was exciting and a little frightening to put his life in Sara’s hands. He was tempted to wander over and take a peek. He wasn’t normally a snoop, but if he just—

The door opened and Thomas turned his head to see not Sara but Leah. She was carrying a tray with slices of pie and three cups of coffee. “Oh!” he said. “You startled me.” He rose and hurried to take the tray, realizing that although he’d hoped they wouldn’t run into each other this evening, he was pleased to see her.

“Sara asked me to bring this in,” Leah explained with a smile. “She said she’ll just be a minute.” He put the tray on the desk, and she took a seat opposite him and motioned to the coffee. “Please, go ahead. It’s nice and hot.”

He noticed that she was wearing glasses. He didn’t think that she had worn them at the barn frolic. But they did nothing to hide the intelligent sparkle of her bright blue eyes. Leah should have been as plain as a barnyard dove in her worn gray dress, apron and headscarf, but red-gold tendrils of hair framed her heart-shaped face, and merry dimples gave her a mischievous appearance.

He wondered if Sara could find him someone like Leah. But maybe not so pretty, he thought. Ellie had warned him that he needed to look beyond an attractive face and neat figure.

A minute or two passed. Leah cupped her coffee mug in her hands and inhaled the steam. She didn’t speak, and Thomas realized that the silence between them wasn’t awkward. Rather, he found it peaceful. Most girls he knew liked to fill every second with chatter.

He tasted his own coffee. It was good. He would have to ask Sara what brand it was. His mother was an excellent cook, but her coffee left something to be desired. It was either too weak or something. It never tasted as good as Sara’s. This was hearty, with a brisk, bright flavor.

“I guess it was quiet in the jungle,” he remarked. “No traffic, not many people.”

Leah smiled and shook her head. “Not noisy like here in the States, but certainly not quiet. There were so many insects, buzzing, flapping, whirring. For the first month I was there, I found it hard to sleep. And the monkeys? Some kinds scream, others howl. They all chatter nonstop. And sometimes you’d hear a deep rumble, like a cough in the night. Iago said that when I heard that noise, I should stay inside the house or clinic hut because it was a leopard and I would make a fine meal for a big cat.”

Thomas gave her a sharp look. “A leopard? Did you ever see one?”

“No, but Iago said that they came to our side of the river in the rainy season. One had killed a child from the nearest village two years earlier. He wasn’t given to tall tales, so I believed him.” She rested her mug on the wooden arm of her chair. “You would think him odd if you saw him. He wasn’t as tall as me; he had a potbelly, and his hair was cut like a cap just below his ears. Even though he was a great-grandfather, his hair was still as black as soot and coarse as a horse’s mane. Iago’s tattooed face was wizened like a winter apple and his legs were bowed, but he was stronger than you can imagine. He was my dearest friend other than my Daniel, and I shall never forget him. Iago taught me so much about life. It was his wisdom and patience that made it possible for us to live and work among the St. Joes.”

“I would like to have met your Iago,” Thomas said.

“You would have liked him. He told such stories that I could listen all day.”

“He spoke English?”

Leah chuckled and shook her head. “Only a little. His granddaughter translated for me, and Iago was a fine actor. He used such expressions and hand movements that it was easy to follow.”

“Who was easy to follow?” Sara asked as she entered the room.

Thomas stood. “Leah was telling me about some of her adventures in Brazil. It seems she was nearly eaten by a leopard.”

“I didn’t say that.” Leah laughed.

Sara took her place behind her desk and helped herself to a slice of pie. “Mmm. Coffee’s still hot. Good.” She motioned to the other plates of pie. “Well, what are you waiting for? It’s for eating, not looking.”

Thomas took a plate and handed it to Leah.

“I should leave you two alone,” Leah said, rising, her plate in her hand. “If you and Thomas have business.”

“We do.” Sara wiped a drop of coffee from her lip. “And so do you and I.” She glanced from one of them to the other. “What? You really haven’t guessed, have you?”

“Guessed what?” Thomas asked. He looked at Leah, who had sat down again, then back at Sara. “Wait. You don’t mean—”

“Ne,” Leah pronounced firmly, looking at him and then at Sara, too. “Not Thomas. Not for me.” Her cheeks took on a rosy glow. “It’s nothing against you, Thomas,” she hastened to explain, glancing back at him again. “But you’re not what I—” She turned her attention to Sara again. “I was very clear what I’m looking for. An older man. Settled. With children.”

Thomas shook his head, wondering what Sara could be thinking. “We’ve known each other our whole lives. You don’t think—”

“Stuff and nonsense!” Sara interrupted him, seeming perturbed. “Listen to the two of you. Who is the expert here? I’ve made more matches than you can imagine, and I think I know my business. You’re perfect for each other.” She pointed at him with her fork. “You’re badly in need of a wife, Thomas. And Leah doesn’t want to leave Seven Poplars and her family. What could be a better solution?”

“But Thomas isn’t...” Leah murmured.

“She...she doesn’t—” Thomas struggled to find the right words. If she wasn’t interested in him, he certainly wasn’t going to be interested in her.

“Look. Either you have faith in me or you don’t,” Sara said crisply. “Leah, you wanted an arranged marriage, someone of the faith that your family would approve of. And Thomas, you’ve been hopeless at finding someone on your own.” She fixed him with a determined gaze. “So here’s what I propose. Six weeks of dating. That should give you each time to consider the pros and cons of the other.”

“But I don’t want to date Thomas,” Leah insisted. “He’s the last sort of man I’d want to marry.”

Her words hurt him a little, and he felt his own ire rise. “She’s not what I’m looking for,” he blurted. “I won’t consider—”

“Oh, but you will,” Sara said rather firmly. “You will both agree to give this match a fair chance. Because if you don’t, if you won’t even open your minds to the possibility, then I’m not the matchmaker for you.” She sat back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. “And I’ll wash my hands of both of you.”

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