The Matchmaker: An Amish Tale of Jane Austen's Emma (The Amish Classics Book 2)

by Sarah Price

  Jane smiled and looked down at the floor while Hetty handed a glass of lemonade to Emma. “Would you believe if I told you that she rode with Francis Wagler!” she said with another amused laugh. “Can you imagine? How unusual and wonderful! Both Francis and Jane returning to Lititz and in the same van!”

  At this news, Emma lifted an eyebrow. Francis wasn’t due for a visit for another week, according to what Samuel had told her daed on Monday. “That is rather unusual!” With a curious look upon her face, she turned to Jane. “I hadn’t realized that you knew Francis!”

  Again, there was no immediate response from Jane.

  Hetty, however, quickly jumped in. “Oh, I’m sure not,” she said excitedly. “Francis was in a different g’may, after all. Farther away. Why, during all my visits out to Ohio to see my dear Jane, I never once bumped into him.” She turned to her maem. “Isn’t that right, Maem? We never once saw Francis Wagler in Ohio.” A pause. “Francis! Ohio!” she repeated loudly before returning her attention back to her three young guests. “And there she sits! Jane has come to visit us at last!”

  “What a joyous homecoming! Surprises abound for us all!” Emma lifted her voice, forcing it to sound more cheerful than she really felt. Once again Hetty giggled in delight, and even Hannah smiled at the older woman’s happiness. Emma went on: “And you rode all that way with Francis? Why, do tell! What sort of person is Francis Wagler? We are all most curious!”

  As if curious about Emma’s question, Jane tilted her head. “He’s a fine, godly man, I presume. I found no reason to think otherwise.”

  “Is he agreeable then?”

  “Why, no more so than anyone else, I reckon.”

  Emma frowned. How many hours in the van must they have spent together, and all that Jane could say was that he was no more agreeable than anyone else? “Did you have an interesting conversation, then?”

  A simple shrug of her slender shoulders accompanied yet another vague reply. “As interesting as one could expect from spending six hours in the company of another person while traveling in the same vehicle.”

  Emma suppressed a sigh. She felt as though she were attempting to milk a dry cow, trying to get answers out of Jane. Yet no matter what question she asked of the young woman, her response provided absolutely no useful information. Immediately Emma knew that she did not care for this young woman who appeared far too proper and much too vague to satisfy her need for information.

  Emma spent the rest of the visit smiling and adding an occasional “Oh my!” in response to Hetty’s continual stream of discourse, most of it flattering Jane in one way or the other. Ever so discreetly her eye monitored the clock on the wall, counting down the minutes until she could risk excusing herself to return home without a chance of offending Hetty, her maem, or Jane. Furthermore, the realization that she would have to spend much of the next day with all three of the women at the applesauce canning caused a queasy feeling in her stomach. How on earth would she be able to survive such a day subjected to Hetty’s chatty tongue and Jane’s evasive and practically silent demeanor?

  Chapter Eleven

  THE FOLLOWING AFTERNOON Emma returned home later than anticipated from the applesauce canning at the Blanks. It had been almost one o’clock when she left, and she took advantage of the mobility that having the buggy provided to stop at the natural food store, which was only a mile out of her way. She needed to replenish some of the staples in her pantry, and the stop would save her a trip on the following day. More importantly, with such a hectic and emotional week behind her, she was looking forward to a quiet Saturday at home. She needed the time to relax, reflect, and recuperate.

  As expected, the applesauce canning was a long, drawn-out affair. While there were several young women there, including her friend Rachel, and many of the older women from the neighborhood who should have distracted her and kept her entertained, it became evident that this was not to be. The conversation, which usually would have delighted Emma, focused on two things and two things only: Francis Wagler’s return to Lititz and Jane’s surprise visit from Holmes County. Neither topic interested Emma and, with Jane’s continued ability to respond to questions without actually responding, Emma quickly lost the inclination to even pretend an interest in the discussions.

  After peeling and coring dozens of apples, and being forced to listen to Hetty’s endless prattle about Jane—almost as if Jane were not sitting there to engage in the conversation herself, something she apparently rarely did—Emma was more than ready to leave when the last jar of applesauce was sealed in the water bath canner and the small kitchen was cleaned. Hetty had wanted her to stay and sit for a while, perhaps have some coffee and a piece of cake that she had prepared the previous day for her guests. Emma, however, had no intentions of staying even one minute longer. With feigned regret, she made her apologies for not being able to linger.

  “I really must leave,” she said. “Daed will surely be expecting me soon.”

  Hetty frowned. “It won’t be the same without you, Emma.”

  At that, Emma merely smiled. “That’s most kind, but you do have Jane here to delight you with lovely conversation and stories about Ohio!”

  Nobody noticed the sarcasm in her voice.

  Hetty merely nodded her head in agreement. “This is true! Oh, bless Jane’s heart for making such a long journey!”

  With a big sigh of relief, Emma hurried outside to put the harness on her horse and hitch it to the buggy. The horse could not trot fast enough to carry her away from the Blanks’ home.

  By the time that she finished shopping at the food store, it was almost two o’clock. She had run into a few of her friends at the store and paused to catch up on the latest news. To her dismay, they too only wanted to talk about the unexpected arrival of both Francis and Jane. Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Emma had barely been able to keep a smile on her face as she listened to the excited gushing of her friends. She couldn’t excuse herself fast enough.

  Ten minutes later when she directed the horse into the driveway, she was surprised to see that there was another buggy parked there. Her first thought was Gideon must have stopped by to visit with her daed, as he often did on Friday afternoons after leaving his business early. Only, upon closer inspection, she noticed that it wasn’t Gideon’s buggy. She could easily identify his buggy with the small rectangular orange reflector bars on the back so perfectly aligned, as if he had measured the distance between them with a ruler. No. This buggy had fewer reflectors and she did not recognize the haphazard pattern.

  With no other visitors expected, she found her curiosity piqued. Who could possibly have come visiting, she wondered.

  She was quick to unhitch the brown mare from the buggy, carefully leading her into the stall. Reluctantly, after hanging up the harness and bridle, she curried the horse, knowing that her daed would be displeased if she left the sweaty horse unattended after such a workout. Still, she knew that she hurried through the task and whispered a soft apology to the horse as she shut the stall door behind herself and quickly put away the grooming supplies.

  Back in the driveway she reached into the opened buggy door and grabbed the box of groceries. With a swiftness to her step, she hurried to the house, eager to find out who had stopped to visit her daed. When she left him, he had been busy at the kitchen table, his shoulders hunched over as he scribbled furiously on a white notepad. His focus had been on making a list of tasks that needed to be done around the house and barn prior to the onslaught of winter. With the ever-reliable Farmer’s Almanac predicting an unseasonably cold winter this year, Henry wanted to be prepared for days, if not weeks, of confinement inside the house. He hadn’t mentioned a visitor so she was certain that he was as surprised as she by whoever had appeared on their doorstep while she was gone.

  Shifting the box of food on her hip, Emma managed to kick open the door so that she could slip through and enter the house. To her astonishment, seated around the kitchen table were two men with her father,
one of whom was Samuel Wagler. The other, a tall man with broad shoulders, without doubt was his son, Francis.

  When she walked through the door, all three men raised their heads and looked in her direction. But it was Francis who stood up quickly and crossed the room. He was handsome. That was the first thing that she noticed about him. Certainly he did not favor Samuel, who, while not unattractive, had broader features than Francis. The second thing she noticed was the charismatic way he carried himself. Unlike many Amish men, Francis was clearly most comfortable meeting and interacting with new people, even women.

  “You must be Emma!” he said cheerfully as he reached to take the box from her arms. Without being asked, he set it upon the counter, all the while still talking. “It’s right nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you from Anna! Why, I feel that we are practically siblings!”

  His forthcoming manner of addressing her startled Emma, yet there was something charming about his sparkling blue eyes and his quick, lopsided grin that made her instantly like him. His skin was tanned and spoke of having worked mostly out of doors during the past seasons. His clothes were very similar in style to the Amish men of Lancaster County with the exception that his blond, curly hair was cut differently, more modern, and from the looks of it, styled at a barber rather than cut at home, which Emma immediately thought was rather worldly. A quick glance at the hats that rested upon the counter pointed out another difference: his had a much broader brim than what would be accepted in the Weavers’ g’may.

  “Wilkum, Francis,” Emma said, warming up to him immediately.

  It was hard not to, for there was a nearly contagious energy about him. She found herself drawn to it, a fact that troubled her immediately for she had never felt such an instant favor toward anyone, neither female or male. He was as handsome as he was charming, and Emma immediately wondered at Jane’s evasive responses from the previous day. Surely there could not be enough praise said about the man that stood before her!

  “Just yesterday I had the pleasure of visiting with your travel companion from Ohio and I learned then of your early arrival. And only just now I’ve returned from an applesauce canning at that same house where it was all that Hetty could talk about,” she said, trying to not sound snide or to reflect the boredom she had felt all day. “That and the return of her niece, of course.”

  Francis snapped his fingers, a grin still upon his face. “And here I thought that we would surprise you today! I hoped that my arrival would be kept a secret for a day or two.” Despite his expressed disappointment, the teasing look upon his face made it clear that he didn’t mind.

  His boyish glee caused her to laugh. “I’m not certain how it works in Holmes County,” she said lightly. “But in Lititz secrets are just about as hidden as laundry hanging outside to dry on wash day! The Amish grapevine carries rich fruit, it seems!”

  At this statement, everyone laughed, and the mood was set for an enjoyable visit. However, as she sat down at the far end of the kitchen table, Emma caught the knowing look exchanged between Samuel and her daed. She fought the urge to cast a harsh look in their direction, knowing exactly what both men were thinking and perhaps hoping, although she knew that neither would say a word.

  Ignoring them, she returned her attention to Francis. He seemed oblivious to the reaction of the other two men. Casually Emma couldn’t help but remark, “How fortuitous that you managed to ride along with Hetty’s niece. It must have helped to pass the time, being able to converse with someone. And your daed must have been quite glad to see you so soon. After all, I thought you were scheduled to arrive next week.”

  Francis retreated back to the chair where he had previously sat, pausing to lean over and pat Samuel’s knee. “It’s one of my favorite pastimes,” he said. “Surprising others. While one cannot indulge in such pleasures with just anyone, I knew that coming home early would be warmly regarded by my daed!”

  At the use of the word home, Samuel lit up and grinned, placing his large hand over his son’s. “Very true, my son. Very true.”

  “Your daed did mention how you love surprises! Why, if I recall properly, he predicted you would come sooner than the appointed date!”

  Francis looked at Samuel, a warm and tender expression on his face. It was clear that, despite the separation of time and distance, the young man was fond of his daed. “Did you now?”

  For the next half hour the discourse of the gathering focused on Francis. He delighted them by sharing stories about his life in Holmes County, living with his maem’s schwester and family. He had nary a negative word to speak about anyone, and all of his stories were told as if they were the grandest adventures in the world. His zest for life was contagious, and he had a captive audience whenever he spoke.

  Emma quickly learned that he was a carpenter with his onkel and cousins. However, just as farm work was becoming scarce in Lancaster, there was also an overabundance of carpenters in Holmes County, making it difficult for Francis to find employment. While many young men were moving to smaller settlements out west in states such as Indiana and Missouri, it was Francis’s intention to explore the possibility of relocating back to Lancaster. He wanted to start his own carpentry business, an announcement that surprised Emma and Henry, but one that was met with a hearty cheer of delight by Samuel. Clearly anything that kept his beloved son in Lititz was more than acceptable to Samuel.

  “There are a lot of carpenters here too,” Henry pointed out.

  “But lots of development, from what I can see,” Francis countered with confidence. “Good carpenters are always needed.”

  She thought that a queer statement in response to what her daed had said. After all, if the abundance of carpenters was what drove Francis from Ohio, it seemed like an awkward argument to argue the reverse as support for moving to overcrowded Lititz. Still, the joy on Samuel’s face could not be denied, and she was not about to say something that could dampen the mood in the room.

  “Mayhaps Gideon could use some help,” Emma offered, glancing at her daed. “At least until you become established.”

  Samuel seemed impressed with her statement. “A good thought, that!”

  Henry slapped his hand on the edge of the table in agreement. “I shall talk to him the very next time I see him! Brilliant, Emma! Always thinking, you are!”

  With a slight shake of his head, Francis inquired further about what she had said. “And who is this Gideon?”

  It was Henry who answered. “Gideon King. My daughter Irene’s brother-in-law. He builds storage buildings for the Englische. A good sort of fellow.”

  “And a rather established young man,” Samuel added.

  “Well, not so young . . . ” Emma blurted out then blushed when her daed scowled at her. Once again Emma had spoken before she thought. Silently she reprimanded herself, knowing that her daed would certainly correct her later.

  “While at your age, we must all seem ancient,” Samuel said lightly, not having taken offense to her comment, “at our age, Emma, everyone seems young!”

  Samuel’s comment caused a brief stir of laughter, and even Emma had to smile. So it was decided that an introduction would be made between Francis and Gideon, although Emma immediately noticed a change in the exuberance that Francis had displayed earlier. While the men continued their discussion, once again focusing on Francis’s family in Ohio, Emma watched the young man, noticing that he had the ability to make himself amiable in all conversation that was agreeable to himself. However, when a topic arose that seemed to displease him, a dark shadow of a wall seemed to cloud his eyes.

  The clock had barely chimed three times when Samuel rose to leave. “I best get going,” he said. “Regrettably I’ve other errands to run.”

  Francis stood as well. “I’d be happy to accompany you, Daed.” Then, with a slight pause, his eyes drifted to the window as if he had just thought of something. “Although I know that I should stop by to visit with the Blanks. Hetty was always so close to Maem when they were young
er and most supportive after she passed.”

  “That she was,” Samuel agreed.

  All of this was news to Emma. She did not recall any such memories for, shortly after Francis’s maem had died, her own mother passed away. While the Waglers were known among the Weavers’ g’may, they worshipped in a different district, and Francis had gone to a different school. Henry and Samuel had been able to commiserate their loss together, but they had decidedly kept their kinner apart. It wasn’t until Samuel had moved just that year into their g’may that Emma had become acquainted with him.

  Her thoughts were interrupted when Francis sighed. “I’d hate for her to feel slighted if I didn’t visit with her right away.”

  Placing his large hand upon his son’s shoulder, Samuel beamed at the goodness that exuded from Francis with that one statement. “I’d be happy to drop you off,” he offered. “It’s not out of the way and I can pick you up on my return.”

  Trying to lighten the mood, Emma shifted the conversation back to one that was more enjoyable for parting guests, for she’d hate to have the Waglers leave on such a solemn note. “Such a shame you weren’t there just an hour or so ago! You’d have delighted the group of women that were there. You were, after all, one of the main subjects of discussion,” she said. “Although Jane said very little. She’s not very talkative, I noticed.” This last bit was added on purpose, and she paid extra attention to his reaction which, as expected, was devoid of any emotion.

  He nodded his head. “I’m sure such a subject was weary on her nerves,” he said.

  Despite the flatness of his words, there was something about his tone that caused Emma to think twice. He was rigid and forced, the casual nature from their previous conversations suddenly vanished. “I’m sure you became familiar, having learned much about each other during that long ride from Ohio,” she ventured to add, carefully monitoring his reaction. “Or had you previously known each other?”