Why would Noah Graber write her a letter?
What was he up to?
And why was her heart galloping like a mare set free in the pasture?
She had precious little time to get ready for the move and a long list of things to do today. She did not have the luxury of pining over what might or might not be in a mysterious envelope. Gulping down half her mug of coffee for courage, she stuck her fingernail under the envelope’s seal and ripped it open.
Dear Olivia Mae,
I would like to ask for the pleasure of your company this evening at 6:00 p.m. for a picnic dinner. I realize you are quite busy this week packing the house, but everyone needs to eat. More important, we have only a few days left until your move, and spending what time we have together is important to me.
Of course, I will bring all of the necessary supplies. You only need to be on your front porch at 6:00 p.m. And before you say you need to eat with your grandparents—remember you will have all of the weeks and months stretching out into the future to spend with them. Our time is slipping away.
We won’t be gone more than a couple hours, but if you’d like a sitter for your grandparents, I can arrange that. And I promise to have you home by nine so you won’t be too tired tomorrow.
If you’re agreeable to this, call the phone shack near my house and leave a message. However, if you feel you can’t get away, there’s no need to take the time to go all the way to the phone shack. I understand how busy you are, especially as you prepare for your journey to Maine.
Sincerely yours,
Noah
She read it once and then again. The first time through she was sure that she must refuse him. The second time through she wondered if she dared to take a few hours for herself. But when she raised her eyes and looked at Mammi and Daddi, who were both smiling at her, she knew what her answer would be.
Pushing back her chair, she said, “I’m going to ride my bike down to the phone shack. I won’t be long.”
As she pedaled down the lane, the letter tucked in her apron pocket, the tension that had been building since her brother’s phone call melted away.
While it was true that her life was changing, the sun was still shining brightly, there was a pleasant breeze, and she felt young and healthy.
Did Noah Graber want to court her?
Did she want to be courted by him? She poked at the feelings that she had for Noah, like one might poke at a toothache. It was true that he was handsome, nice to be around and a gut person, but nothing in the letter suggested he felt as she did. He hadn’t even tried to kiss her again in the last week.
Noah was a gut friend; that was the reason for the dinner invitation.
Or was there something more going on?
Did Noah care for her?
Was he actually asking her out on a date now that she was moving? His timing was terrible! But his letter was spot-on.
He’d appreciated what a stressful time this was.
He’d given her an easy out if she wanted to decline.
He’d respected her time, and he’d understood her need for a break from her grandparents.
Noah had come a long way from the clueless guy who thought he was happy being a bachelor. The night before she’d made a list of possible women he could date, wanting to fulfill her promise to give him three solid chances and wanting to do so before they moved. But each name she’d listed, she’d crossed out.
Oh, they were nice girls, but for some reason each one had seemed wrong for Noah.
So who was the right woman for him?
Why did the thought of matching him with someone else cause her heart to sink?
She let that question roll around while she parked her bike, hurried into the phone shack and left her message, which was short and sweet. “This message is for Noah Graber, and my answer is yes. Yes, I’d love to.”
She stepped out of the phone shack into a summer morning that was as close to perfect as any she’d ever seen.
The sky was blue, the day promised to be warm and a light breeze stirred the trees.
And she was going on a date with Noah Graber.
How long had it been since she’d stepped out with a boy, since she’d done something for herself? For years now her very existence had been focused on two things—caring for her grandparents and matching others to their true love. Suddenly that seemed short-sighted. In fact, it seemed as if she’d neglected something very important.
She’d turned her back on her own hopes and dreams.
It was all good and fine to care about your family, but Olivia Mae wasn’t one to encourage being a martyr. Gotte had a plan for every life, and it was possible—yes, it was actually certain—that He had a plan for hers. The question was, did it include Noah Graber?
* * *
The day passed quickly. Jane and Francine arrived with packing boxes and insisted on staying until lunch, helping her pack dishes, linens and clothes they wouldn’t be needing in the next week. Everything was carefully labeled and then carried to the barn and stored. She didn’t want the boxes in the house, where Mammi might trip over them and Daddi continually asked, “Is someone moving?”
It was when they were taking a break on the front porch, each holding a cold glass of tea and a snack, that Jane broached the subject of dating. “I’ve stepped out three evenings now with Elijah.”
It was the first time she’d brought Elijah up in front of Olivia Mae, who asked, “How did that go?”
“Gut. He...he’s enjoying working at the factory, or at least enjoying the pay.”
They all three laughed about that. It was common knowledge that the factory paid well.
“More important, he’s learning to use the modern equipment for the woodworking. Elijah says what he really wants to do is start his own business specializing in custom-built cabinets, that sort of thing. He knows that some of the modern tools wouldn’t be allowed, but others would—many are now powered by batteries, which he could charge with a generator in the barn if the bishop allows it.”
“I can see him being gut at that.” Francine bit into the apple she’d chosen over a cookie. The tea—of course—was unsweetened.
“Do you have feelings for him?” Olivia Mae asked.
“Ya. I do.” Jane wiped the condensation off her glass and rubbed it on the back of her neck. “Now that I understand him better, I realize that he has a real talent for working with wood. He never would have been happy as a farrier. I don’t know why I couldn’t see that before. Somehow, I took his rejection of his dat’s plans for his life as a rejection of me. Now I know he was just trying to find himself.”
“Aren’t we all,” Francine murmured.
Olivia Mae almost let her comment slide, but she had six days left in town and while they would continue to write letters to one another, writing wasn’t the same as speaking face-to-face.
“What do you mean by that, Francine?”
“Oh.” Her gaze jerked up, as if she didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud. “I guess while we’re confessing, I might as well do the same.”
“I thought we were just talking.” Jane’s grin widened. “But I like confessions, too.”
Francine sat up straighter. “I’ve applied for a position with MDS.”
“Mennonite Disaster Services?” Olivia Mae leaned forward and squeezed Francine’s hand. “That’s wunderbaar.”
“It’s fantastic,” Jane agreed.
“Do you think so? Because I haven’t told my bruder yet or my parents. But I think—I think I’ll like it. They do important work for people affected by disasters. And they need a cook for a crew in Texas, where they’re still helping folks with hurricane recovery. It would be a three-month job, but possibly renewable for as long as they’re in the area.”
“You’re a very gut cook.”
“It doesn’t pay, b
ut they provide lodging and meals are free. More important, I think it would give me time away from Goshen, which is what I feel like I need right now.”
“They would be fortunate to have you,” Olivia Mae said.
“The question is whether they’ll approve me, because of my diabetes.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about that, and it’s because of your diabetes that you know so much about nutrition.” Olivia Mae set her rocker into motion. The two women in front of her had become more than friends—they were like sisters—and she realized in that moment how much she would miss them.
“Why are you smiling?” Jane asked.
“She looks like she knows something we don’t.”
“Looks like she wants to share a secret.”
“And now she’s blushing.”
“Okay, you can stop. It’s not that big a deal, only that... Well, Noah asked me out for dinner tonight.” When she told them it was for a picnic, they all three burst into laughter. It did Olivia Mae’s heart good to see that Francine could laugh about Noah’s ill-conceived date and the argument that had ensued. Both seemed like they’d happened long ago rather than earlier that summer.
“Just watch out for the horse blanket,” Francine said, draining her glass and then standing. “Now let’s get back to packing so you have time to prepare for your date.”
Olivia Mae had used that phrase so often in her role as matchmaker—prepare for your date—as if it was a recipe that needed to have all the ingredients set out on the counter. But in truth she had been ready for tonight since the first day Noah had stepped on her grandparents’ porch. She had no idea where the evening would lead, or if she was making too big a deal of it, but she knew with a deep certainty that it felt good to look forward to something for a change.
* * *
Noah arrived at Olivia Mae’s place a few minutes early. Instead of turning into the lane, he pulled to the side of the road and waited. Arriving early would only make her feel rushed, and that was the last thing he wanted to do.
When his watch said five minutes before six, he called out to Snickers, who tossed her head and then trotted down the lane. It was almost as if the horse understood this was an important evening, or perhaps she was picking up on Noah’s enthusiasm.
He thought he was ready for just about anything, but then he drew close to the porch and saw Olivia Mae standing there. She wore her light gray dress, clean white apron and a shawl the color of the summer sky across her shoulders. Noah’s heart felt as if it stopped beating completely, then stammered and then galloped forward. He raised a hand to wave, murmured to the horse and jumped out of the buggy.
“Noah.”
“Olivia Mae.”
“Beautiful evening.”
“Ya.” It was as if the thoughts in his head had decided to shut down, but then he remembered sitting on the porch with her as she explained that women were more like men than different from them. Women liked to be appreciated, cared for, admired—same as anyone. So he stepped closer and said, “You look wunderbaar. That shawl, it’s a nice color.”
“This?” A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
“Did you buy it in town?”
“I made it.”
Now her smile had broadened and any anxiety he felt slipped away. This was Olivia Mae, his friend, and the woman he hoped to marry. He didn’t have to worry about being someone he wasn’t. He only had to find the time and place to share his feelings.
“I’d like to say hello to your grandparents before we leave.”
“Of course.” Her voice had dropped to a whisper, and he thought her eyes looked bright with unshed tears. Before he could think that through, she’d turned and led him into the living room.
“Where are the packing boxes?” he whispered.
“Stacked in the barn. Bothers Daddi less that way.”
“Evening, Abe.”
The old man looked up in surprise. He’d been shelling peas, but he stopped, cocked his head and said, “Do I know you?”
“Ya, I’m Noah. Noah Graber.”
“I knew some Grabers once. They own a farm closer to town.”
“That would be my parents.” They’d had this conversation before, several times, but Noah understood that the present often slipped away from Abe while the past anchored him to a safe place. “My dat helped you to build the barn. I was a young lad then, but I remember us all meeting early on a Saturday morning.”
“And finishing it by evening.” A look of contentment spread over Abe’s face as he returned his attention to the peas. “We appreciate that. The barn, it’s going to be a real help for our first winter here.”
“Ya, I suspect it will.”
Noah met Olivia Mae’s gaze and she mouthed a silent danki.
Rachel walked into the room, carrying two steaming mugs. “Noah, I didn’t hear your buggy.”
“Let me carry those for you.” He was across the room in three steps, taking the mugs and carrying them to the small table between the two rockers.
“We’re just settling down for a little snack. Abe, he likes to go to bed early.”
As if in agreement, Abe yawned, but he continued shelling the peas.
“Is there anything I can do to help this week?” He meant with the move, but he didn’t want to upset Abe by mentioning it. “Anything you need?”
“The best things are not things.” Rachel smiled at the old proverb. “If there is, I’ll let you know. Now go, both of you. It’s a beautiful summer evening. You don’t need to spend it inside with two old people.”
Noah reached for Olivia Mae’s hand. Entwining his fingers with hers, he led her out to the buggy, helped her climb up into the seat and then hurried around to the other side.
The best things are not things.
How true that was. He’d thought that his life goal was to be an auctioneer, to have his own bachelor pad, to be free of others’ expectations. But those things paled in comparison to the woman sitting beside him.
They spoke of the weather, Jane, Francine and general happenings within their community. He let Olivia Mae drive the conversation and when they fell into a comfortable silence, he enjoyed it rather than worrying what it might mean. When they were a mile away from his brother’s place, he started to laugh.
“Care to share?” She adjusted herself in the buggy, waiting, one eyebrow raised and a smile on her face.
“I was just remembering my first date, with Jane. Did I ever tell you that I penned talking points on the inside of my hand? Thought I should have them there in case I couldn’t think of anything to say.”
“Oh, my.”
“Uh-huh, and as she said, I barely let her get a word in edgewise. Silence—especially silence when I was with a woman—sort of scared me.”
“And now?”
“Now silence feels comfortable, like we’re sharing something without the need to put it into words.”
Her cheeks blossomed pink, and he had to fight the urge to pull the buggy over on the side of the road and kiss her. Instead he turned his attention to the mare, intent on not missing the turn into his brother’s back pasture.
“Where are we going?”
“Private little place I heard about.”
“Heard about?”
“Okay. It’s my bruder’s place—Samuel’s. There’s a nice pond near the back, with shade trees around it.”
“Is that so?”
“And I have the owner’s word that we’ll have the place all to ourselves.”
He pulled into the back entrance of the property, called out to Snickers to whoa and hopped down to open the gate. When he’d pulled through, Olivia Mae offered to close the gate, but he shook his head and took care of it quickly. The lane was a little bumpy, but the horse seemed happy to be on a less-traveled road.
When t
hey pulled up to the pond, he knew that his brother had picked the perfect spot. Justin claimed he took Sarah there for all their important occasions—when he’d first kissed her, when he’d proposed—and she’d taken him there when she told him about the baby. It was quiet and private and peaceful. Perhaps the area would become a sort of living testament to their families and their love for one another. That thought cheered him immensely and calmed the nerves in his stomach.
The pond was full due to recent rains, large trees shaded the east and south side, and a small dock reached out a good ten feet into the water.
After setting the brake on the buggy and tying Snickers’s lead to a metal rail his brother had installed for just that purpose, he helped Olivia Mae out of the buggy. Reaching into the back seat, he snagged the picnic basket and quilt.
“Can I help you carry that?”
“Nein. I’ve got it.” He didn’t let go of her hand as they walked to the far side of the pond. Though his heart was pounding in his chest he felt good—better than he’d felt in a very long time. He didn’t know what turns their relationship might take over the next few hours, but he knew that he was where he wanted to be at this moment, and he planned on enjoying that instead of worrying.
He’d done enough worrying the night before to last him a lifetime. Now that he was with Olivia Mae, he knew that whatever happened would be what Gotte intended. But he certainly hoped that he and the man upstairs were seeing eye to eye.
Chapter Fourteen
Olivia Mae ran her fingers over the old quilt as Noah pulled food from the basket. The design was a double wedding-ring pattern. Had he chosen it on purpose? Did he understand the symbolism of the quilt? Though Amish didn’t exchange rings, the idea of interlocking circles, intertwined lives, was one they could appreciate.
She glanced at him and caught him watching her.
“I brought salad.” He held up a container. “I remembered you saying how every meal needs one.”
“You were listening.”
“I was. Also have some sliced ham and turkey—wasn’t sure which you’d want—along with cheddar and Swiss cheese, fresh bread and all the other stuff you put on a sandwich.”
A Perfect Amish Match (Indiana Amish Brides Book 3) Page 17