Emma Miller - A Match for Addy

“Sara tells me that this is a church Sunday coming up.” Gideon took off his hat and pushed his hair off his face. Moisture dotted his forehead and soaked through his shirt, revealing more of his muscular chest and shoulders than was proper.

Realizing she was staring, Addy swallowed and glanced at the ground. “At my Aunt Hannah’s. Close by. You can walk.”

“I’m looking forward to worshipping with your congregation.”

She knew she shouldn’t be standing there chatting when Sara was waiting for her, but she ventured another glance at him. “My father is one of the preachers.”

“Ellie told me. She liked his last sermon, on Noah’s faith.”

Addy nodded. That had always been one of her favorite stories from the Old Testament. “ Dat says that people must have thought he was crazy, Noah. To build a boat when they were so far from the sea.”

“I wish I’d heard the sermon.” He had the nicest eyes, she thought, so large and full of life.

“I think Bishop Atlee will preach on Sunday, or maybe Caleb. He’s married to my cousin Rebecca.”

Gideon sank the ax into a stump and rubbed his hands together, easing the strain of gripping the ax. “I’m looking forward to it, and to meeting your neighbors. Sara says the congregation has welcomed her.”

“Oh, good, you’re here,” Ellie said, appearing from behind one of the outbuildings. “Addy’s here, Sara!” she called toward the house. For a small girl, she had a big voice.

Sara came out of the utility room onto the porch with a basket of wet laundry. “You’re early. Goot . Help me hang these sheets, and then we’ll start painting the big bedroom. I may have girls coming in soon to stay with us while I find matches for them. It’s the way I like to do things.” She glanced at the woodpile. “My, you’ve done a lot since breakfast.”

Gideon wrenched his ax from the stump. “Best to get the heavy work done early. The day promises to be another scorcher.”

“Hotter here than in Wisconsin, I imagine,” Addy said, unwilling to walk away without saying something sensible.

“Ne.” He shook his head. “You’d be surprised how hot it gets there in the summer. Unless you’re near one of the lakes.”

“The big difference will be in the winter. Delaware winters are mild, so they tell me.” Sara held up the basket of laundry toward Addy, then set it on the porch. “If you’ll take this, I’ll go back for the second basket.”

“I brought back your dress.” Addy showed it to her in the basket on her arm. “I appreciate you loaning it to me.”

“No need for you to return it.” Sara’s round face creased in a smile. “I meant it as a gift. It will hardly fit me or Ellie.”

“Because...I’m so tall,” Addy supplied.

Sara’s smile widened. “Or we’re so short. Right, Ellie?”

“ Ya , Sara, right about that,” Ellie agreed.

“But it could be hemmed,” Addy suggested. The dress was so nice, but she didn’t want to appear needy.

“Nonsense,” Sara shot back. “The green color suits you.”

“It does, Addy,” Gideon added. “I thought that when you left here wearing it the other day.”

Sara’s dark eyes narrowed. “Gideon and Ellie seem to think you’d prefer to be called by your middle name. So which will it be? Dorcas or Addy ? I need to know these things.”

“Addy...I think... That is...” Addy hunched her shoulders and tried to make herself smaller. “Unless you think... Dorcas is better.”

“I think that you can call yourself whatever pleases you, so long as it doesn’t offend your parents or your neighbors. Addy sounds fine to me.”

“ Ya . And me.” Self-consciously, Addy set her basket on the porch and picked up the laundry basket. “I’ll start hanging these,” she said. “And thank you...for the dress. It’s kind of you.”

“And kind of you to come and help us get settled. It’s a good house, but it needs work.”

As do I, Addy thought, if I’m to ever have a chance at finding a husband. I just hope Sara is good at her job. Because finding someone for me might be her most difficult match yet.

* * *

Sunday, Gideon, Sara and Ellie headed for the Yoder farm for church services. And as Addy had promised, her aunt’s home was near enough to walk, which he appreciated. He’d always believed that, as much as possible, the Sabbath should be a day of rest for the horses as well as their owners.

As they walked up the long Yoder lane, buggies full of families passed them. Those inside waved and called out greetings. As in his community in Wisconsin, each man was garbed in the black mutze , suspenders, trousers and vest, and white long-sleeved dress shirts. The men’s wide-brimmed hats were black wool, similar to those worn back home. The women were in blues, greens, purple or even lavender, with white organdy kapps , and capes known as halsduchs . Children were dressed like the adults, although most boys had black straw hats.

In the Yoder barnyard, Gideon shook hands with several men. He was introduced to more people than he could keep straight, and turned to Charley Byler for help. Gideon soon learned that Charley had married one of the many Yoder girls.

“Hannah lives in the big house. She married Albert Hartman,” Charley explained. “That’s him over there talking to Preacher Caleb. Albert used to be a Mennonite, but he joined our church. He and Hannah live here, and my Miriam, our boy, and Miriam’s sister Ruth and her husband and boys live in that house.” He pointed to a small house in the distance. “Eli works at the chair shop. I farm this place. Albert is a veterinarian.”

Gideon arched his brows. He’d never heard of an Amish vet.

Charley shrugged and laughed. “Long story. If Sara has any problems with her mules, she should send you for Albert straight off. He’s got a real touch with livestock.”

“So Albert and Hannah live in the big house, but you work the farm?” Gideon asked.

“Right. I was doing masonry full-time, but I’ve been lucky enough to cut my hours back so I can spend more time here, now that my family is growing. It’s rich soil, a good farm, and Hannah and Albert let me make all the decisions on what to plant and what animals we raise. Other than Albert’s alpacas. You’ll have to take a look at them after church. He and Hannah are pretty attached to those silly creatures.” He slapped Gideon on the back in an amiable gesture. “Who knows? Maybe by the time my son’s ready to take over the farm, people will be calling it the Byler place.”

Gideon nodded in agreement. He liked Charley. They were close in age, and Charley seemed such a pleasant and interesting person that it was impossible not to like him. “Sara said you are chaperoning the singing coming up. I hope I’ll be welcome, although I can’t promise how well I can sing.”

“You’re more than welcome,” Charley assured him. “We can always use more men. There are a lot of single young women here, if you get my meaning.”

Gideon grimaced. “That should make Sara happy. Not much call for a matchmaker if you don’t have girls wanting husbands.”

“Or the other way around.” Charley motioned toward the house. “I see Samuel and Bishop Atlee are on their way in. I think we’d best find our seats.”

* * *

Several hours later, the long church service came to an end. Bishop Atlee had given a good sermon. The little man didn’t raise his voice as he quoted from Exodus , but he didn’t need to. As one, the congregation leaned forward to hear the commands that the Lord gave to Moses. So fervent was the bishop’s telling of the Bible story that Gideon could almost feel the heat of the desert sun and taste the hardships of God’s chosen people as they journeyed toward the Promised Land. And when the listeners rose to sing the traditional German hymns that brought the worship service to a close, Gideon joined them without reservation. He’d always loved singing, and he liked to think that he had a strong voice, even if he wasn’t always quite on key.