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.”