An Unlikely Match

by Beth Wiseman

  But the boy wasn’t Amish, and that left too much room for broken hearts. Still, something prodded at Esther. For now, she’d watch and wait. And pray about it.

  * * *

  Evelyn stayed on the dirt road and kept Millie at a steady trot. “I packed a picnic lunch. There’s a park at the end of this road if you want to eat later.”

  “I always want to eat.” Jayce’s sunglasses were on top of his head. Evelyn was wearing hers, mostly to sneak glances at him without him noticing. The sun shifted behind the clouds as if in hiding, then presented itself full force, the process repeating continually. With a nice breeze, it made for perfect weather.

  “Thanks for doing that,” he said. “But I would have taken you to lunch.” He rubbed his hands together. “What are we having?”

  “Chicken salad on homemade sourdough bread, potato chips, pickles, and red velvet cake.”

  Jayce smiled. “You’re kidding, right? Did you make all of that?”

  Evelyn fought the urge to swell with pride, but it overtook her just the same. “Ya, I did. And I brought tea.”

  “It sounds great. At home we eat out most of the time. Dad doesn’t cook, and he doesn’t like me messing up his kitchen.” Jayce rolled his eyes.

  “So, before this job, did you have another job?” Evelyn had tried to envision Jayce’s life in Los Angeles. Surely he lived in a fancy house with his father, and he probably drove an expensive car.

  “I haven’t had a real job for about a month. Not since my father got me blacklisted.”

  Evelyn didn’t know what that meant, so she waited for him to go on.

  “My dad and I have never really gotten along. On my eighteenth birthday, he turned over a trust fund he and my mother had set up when I was a kid. It was a substantial amount of money, and my dad had a long list of opportunities he wanted me to pursue, all related to the film industry.” He paused to take a deep breath. “I didn’t want anything to do with his business. It’s a shallow world filled with cutthroat people competing to write the best screenplay or get hired by the best directors and so on. I had something else in mind.”

  Frowning, he turned to Evelyn. “So I went against my dad’s wishes and opened a deli. Not just any deli. It was upscale in a nice part of town.” He stopped again and shook his head. “Dad hated that I wasn’t following in his footsteps, so to speak. He refused to eat there, encouraged others not to, and the place ultimately failed. To be fair, I can’t blame it all on my dad. He didn’t support me, and he certainly spread the word about how horrible the food was, even though it wasn’t. But I made some business mistakes too. So I have to shoulder part of the blame.”

  Evelyn had never met a man who was so open about his life. His vulnerability was visible even though he didn’t seem to realize it. The men Evelyn had dated before always started out trying to impress her. Then little by little, their personalities revealed themselves. In the end none of them had completely meshed with hers. She enjoyed hearing about Jayce’s life. It offered her the freedom to share about her own in ways she wouldn’t normally. Maybe that was why she’d acted so spontaneously when she kissed him. Admittedly, his looks played a part in her bold move. But he also made her feel comfortable.

  “If you and your daed don’t get along and you don’t want to work in his business, why did you choose to make this trip?” It was a rather nosy question, but she was curious and didn’t think he’d mind, based on everything he’d already told her.

  “He’s paying me a lot of money for this job. Neither of us have admitted it, but we both want me to get my own place. In a month that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

  “Why did he sabotage your deli if he wants you to move out? It seems to me he would want you to succeed, to make enough money on your own.” She was afraid of overstepping, but she was having a hard time understanding Jayce’s relationship with his dad. He sounded like a cruel man.

  “You would think so, huh?” There was a faint tremor in his voice as though some raw emotion were pushing to the surface. “My childhood was no picnic. But despite everything, I always wanted my dad to be proud of me. He wanted me to succeed in the movie business. When I chose not to, our relationship got even worse.”

  “I’m sorry about that—and about your deli.” Evelyn couldn’t imagine such a relationship with her father, who was a stern but fair and supportive man. “What will you do for work when you get home?”

  Jayce shrugged. “I don’t know yet, but it won’t be a deli or any type of eatery.” He paused, glanced at her, then sighed. “Whatever I choose to do, I’m going to give it a lot of thought. The first priority is to get away from my father. He drags me down, and it’s just not a healthy relationship.”

  Evelyn didn’t know what to say.

  “Okay, so that’s my sad story. What’s yours?”

  Evelyn thought for a few seconds. “I’m sorry. I guess I don’t have a sad story.”

  “Oh . . . Don’t apologize. That’s refreshing to hear.” He scratched his head. “But I thought everyone had some sort of sad story.”

  “Hmm . . .” She looked his way and smiled. “Do you want me to make something up?”

  Laughing, he said, “No, that won’t be necessary. But can I ask you some questions?”

  She stirred uneasily as she considered what he might want to know. “Ya, sure.”

  Evelyn slowed the buggy when she saw the park up ahead. She was nervous about what he might want to know but pretty sure she’d answer anything he asked. She recalled some of her dates in the past. She’d tried to impress her suitors in the beginning too. She didn’t feel that way with Jayce. Maybe because she’d already broken the ice with the kiss. But it felt . . . different. Like he wouldn’t judge her.

  “Okay.” He rubbed his chin and stared at her. “Why do you all dress the same?”

  She’d expected a more personal question, but this one was easy. She’d been asked before by outsiders. “We don’t compete with each other. We keep everything universal so no pride is displayed. Our clothes are the same, along with our buggies, and we follow a uniform code set forth in the Ordnung. It’s a code of conduct we know by heart and live by.”

  He nodded. “Why no electricity?”

  Evelyn had been asked this plenty of times too. “We try to stay detached from outsiders. Not because we believe ourselves to be better than others, but because we are secure in our faith and try not to involve ourselves with others who might be unequally yoked.”

  He cringed. “It kinda does sound like you believe yourselves to be better. What do you mean by ‘unequally yoked’?”

  She thought about the best way to explain their beliefs. “Let’s see. Okay . . . for example, I know for sure that everyone in our community is faith-driven and committed to Gott. But when I meet new people, I don’t know if they share my beliefs.”

  He stared at her for a while. “But it’s not up to you to judge whether or not someone is worthy. Only God can do that.”

  Evelyn wasn’t prepared for this conversation. “I didn’t say worthy. That’s not the right word. I’m just saying that we stand together as a group that believes the same way, so detachment from the outside world is encouraged.”

  “But . . .” He stroked his chin. “I heard Quinn and Hal talking about a restaurant they ate at that is run by Amish people. How is that being detached?”

  “I-I . . . don’t know how to explain it. Someone like the bishop or even mei daed could give a better explanation.”

  “Sorry, I’m not trying to knock your religion. Not at all. I’m just curious about how you live because it’s so different. I’m not saying different is better or worse.”

  Evelyn tugged Millie to a stop when they reached the park.

  “There’s just one more thing.” Jayce paused, long enough to make her nervous about what he might ask her. “How long is your hair?”

  She smiled. “Long.” Then she stepped out of the buggy, reached into the back seat, and retrieved the basket of f
ood.

  They walked to a picnic table, and Evelyn set down the basket. She faced Jayce, folding her arms across her chest. “You’re a believer.”

  “You say that like it surprises you.” He raised an eyebrow.

  Evelyn tried to corral her thoughts. “I guess it doesn’t. Or it shouldn’t. But you’re very passionate when you talk about God. That’s nice.”

  He shrugged, then pointed at the sky. “Me and God are on good terms. I just have a lot of questions, mostly about organized religion.”

  Evelyn began unpacking the basket, hoping he didn’t ask her any more questions about God. She didn’t feel qualified to provide answers. But her curiosity about that last comment was too strong to ignore. “Like what kind of questions?”

  “I wasn’t raised as a believer, at least not by my parents. When I visited my grandparents as a kid, they took me to church. Some of it stuck, but it wasn’t until I was older that I really learned about a relationship with God. I guess you could say a friend introduced me to Him.” He scratched his cheek. “I guess it’s confusing to me how different religions interpret the Bible in various ways. I’ve gone to a lot of different churches over the years, but none of them seem to be a fit for me. It’s left me with questions.”

  Evelyn smiled. “I don’t think any of us have all the answers. It’s a journey, and we learn along the way. I don’t think He cares how we find Him, just that we do.”

  “I’m willing to go with that.” He sat on the bench at the picnic table, eyeing the offerings. Evelyn sat opposite him.

  “Hmm . . .”

  Evelyn set out two plates, then stilled her hands. “Hmm, what?”

  He shrugged again. “It’s nice to be able to talk about God so openly and without judgment.”

  It was the last topic of conversation Evelyn could have expected, but she was glad Jayce had a relationship with God. Especially since she’d sensed that he might be lost. Something in his eyes spoke to her, but maybe she’d misread him.

  She lowered her head in prayer, and Jayce did too.

  After they filled their plates, Jayce stared at her from across the table. “Okay, here’s a question about God for you.”

  Uh-oh. “What’s that?” She expected him to ask the question she’d first asked her parents about God. Why does God let bad things happen to good people? It was a common question, and Evelyn could remember her father’s answer clearly. “We don’t question Gott’s will.” She wasn’t sure Jayce would accept that answer.

  “So . . . regarding organized religion.” He raised an eyebrow. “Who’s right? I mean, you’ve got your Protestants, Catholics, Muslims, Mormons, Amish, and a bunch of other religious organizations that believe theirs is the right way to heaven. Who do you think is right?”

  After a few seconds, when she didn’t answer, he said, “I’m sure you believe that being Amish is the best religion and the most surefire way to get to heaven.”

  Evelyn opened her mouth to say something, but words weren’t forming any sentences that made sense. “I, uh . . . I don’t know that I would say that. It’s not mei place to judge other religions.”

  Jayce was quiet for a while. He was on his second sandwich before Evelyn had eaten even half of hers. “Ironically, I don’t know anything about yours,” he said after taking a drink of tea.

  Evelyn would have to agree with that. His studies must not have taken him anywhere near the Amish way of life. But she wanted to shift the conversation in another direction before she rattled off something that didn’t make sense or was untrue in the eyes of God. He was starting to confuse her. She’d been taught not to question her upbringing or relationship with God.

  Since he hadn’t posed a direct question, she pointed across the field adjacent to the park. “When we were young, we used to run that way about a half mile. There’s a cave. Not a big one like people tour. It’s a small one, just big enough to crawl inside. We used to get on our hands and knees and go about ten feet to a space the size of the living room at mei haus.”

  His face went white. “Oh no. You didn’t bring me here to force me to conquer my fears, did you?”

  “Nee, of course not. I’m just pointing out a landmark from my childhood.” She giggled. “I wouldn’t do that to you. Each person has to face their own fears in their own time.”

  The color still hadn’t returned to his face. “Now, don’t freak out or anything.” He had a mouthful of food that he slowly swallowed.

  Evelyn’s chest grew tight. “Freak out about what?”

  He slowly pointed to her left arm. “I’ve never seen a butterfly actually land on anyone, and—”

  She jumped up, tipping over her plate and sliding her hand along the picnic table, knowing right away she’d pulled back a splinter. But she kept going, waving her arms in the air, spinning around and around to get the creature off. “See, I told you! All things that fly find me.”

  Dizzy, she finally stopped and caught her breath, and when she looked at Jayce, his eyes were wide.

  “Wow. You really are afraid of anything that flies.” He wasn’t smiling or making fun of her like so many others had. “Come here. You’re bleeding.”

  Edging toward him, she held out her throbbing pinky as drops of blood trickled to the ground. “I’m not as brave as Millie,” she said softly.

  He stood, gently took her hand in his, and moved his face closer to her finger. “I’m going to guess you don’t have any tweezers handy?” His eyes met hers, and she shook her head, flinching.

  Tenderly, he held her hand and drew his face even closer. “I see where it went in. It’s deep. I think I can get it out though.” He looked up at her, his beautiful eyes seeming to feel her pain. It was odd and wonderful, and it caused her heart to flutter. “Do you want me to try?”

  “Ya. It will stop hurting so much once it’s out.”

  As he applied pressure on the deep end of the splinter, Evelyn squeezed her eyes closed, not wanting to watch. “Ow,” she whispered.

  “Sorry, I’ve almost got it.” His voice was deep and low but filled with the same compassion he’d had with Millie.

  A few seconds later, the pressure was gone and Jayce had a napkin wrapped around her finger, still holding her hand. “Better?”

  “Ya, danki. I mean, thank you.”

  “Nichts zu danken.” He smiled, still applying pressure to her little finger.

  “That sounds like ‘you’re welcome’ in our dialect. Very close. How did you know that?”

  “I took a semester of German in college.” He offered her hand back. “I feel up for an adventure.”

  “Ach dear. I’m afraid to ask.” She laughed. “Wasn’t my dancing around like a crazy woman enough adventure?”

  “I’d like to see your cave.”

  Evelyn’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding, ya?”

  “I didn’t say I want to go in it.” His body stiffened. “I’d just like to see it. I can’t imagine crawling through a hole and not knowing where it led.” He shivered. “No way.”

  “We were kids, invincible.” She shrugged. “There are small caves all over southern Indiana.”

  “Feel up to it?” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down.

  “Ya, sure. I haven’t been there in years. Let me just give Millie some water and make sure she’s tethered securely.” She walked to her horse and poured some water in a bowl, then checked that the reins were sufficiently taut. “Ready,” she said when she walked back to the table. He’d already put the container of chicken salad back on the ice block in the small cooler.

  “You kinda lost half your sandwich. Do you want to make another one before we go?” He pointed to the bread, then to the chicken salad he’d just stowed.

  “Nee, I’m fine.”

  They started their trek toward the cave.

  “It’s so cool you can just leave your horse there with no worries of someone stealing her.” Jayce shook his head. “It’s not like that where I come from.”

  “I guess there are a
lot of people where you live?”

  “Yep. Too many.” He took long strides, so Evelyn tried to keep up. She could see the tip of his tattoo showing and wanted to ask what it was. But she feared it might embarrass her. Or him.

  When they finally reached the small cave with an opening the size of a Hula-Hoop, her childhood memories began playing through her mind. “It was our secret spot. We used to place weeds around it to cover the entrance, hoping no one else would find it. There were three of us, all girls.” The space was clearly visible now. “I’m sure others have been down there.”

  “You know I’m not going in.” Jayce ran a hand through his hair. “I know I’d have the freedom to get out, but that’s just too tight a space for me.”

  “I know. I would never ask you to.” She thought about how he didn’t make her feel bad about the butterfly incident.

  “Well, I might have considered . . . following you in there.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Maybe. But aside from my being uncomfortable in small spaces, there’s something else that would worry me.” He lowered his head dramatically, then lifted his eyes to hers, smiling broadly. “I’d be scared to death you’d try to kiss me.”

  Evelyn gasped but couldn’t stop laughing. When she finally caught her breath, she said, “I’m going in.”

  “No. Don’t do that.” Jayce became visibly concerned, his expression twisting into fear. “It’s been a long time since you’ve been down there. What if something happened to you? I’d be forced to save you.” His expression lifted. “Then you’d be forced to kiss me . . .” He shrugged. “I don’t know. It might be worth it.”

  Evelyn sank to her knees and started crawling inside the hollowed rock.

  “Seriously, please don’t do that. How are you going to see inside?”

  She kept going, turning only briefly to pull out a flashlight she’d left in her apron pocket. It was no bigger than a fountain pen. She clicked it on. “Never leave home without it.” That wasn’t exactly true. She’d just forgotten to take it out of her pocket early this morning.