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Everyone talked about his mother’s skill at growing flowers. She had beds of them that brightened the front yard and clustered around the house. She rarely cut them for the house, but from early spring to late autumn she had beautiful bouquets to sell at Spence’s Auction. He didn’t claim to know much about them other than to turn over the soil when she asked him or to fertilize and weed the beds, but he’d seen her create enough bouquets to know what flowers went with each other. For Ruby, he chose a rainbow of cosmos, sweet peas, zinnias and asters. He cradled the stems in peat moss and wrapped them in green florist’s paper just as he’d seen his mother do for her stand at Spence’s Market. He still had the headache, but he was whistling as he hitched up his driving horse to the cart.
All the way to Sara’s house, Joseph tried to think of something sensible to say to Ruby when he gave her the flowers. He even practiced saying the words aloud. It wasn’t difficult to be clever when there was no one to hear him but the horse. Should he speak to her in Deitsch or English? She’d told him that she was from Pennsylvania. Those Amish up there were less conservative. Maybe she’d think he was old-fashioned if he spoke Deitsch. So English. But what did he say?
“A little something to welcome you to Seven Poplars.” That was good, but should it be “welcome you” or “welcome you”? What word should he emphasize? Or maybe that would sound too put-on. They’d talked a lot in the urgent care waiting room. If he welcomed her, it might appear that he was acting like she was just another of Sara’s clients and she wasn’t special.
Joseph’s stomach flip-flopped. He felt a little light-headed. His head still hurt, but he didn’t think that was the cause of his distress. The truth was, he was scared. His mouth was dry and it was hard to think straight. He’d always heard of love striking a man like lightning cutting down a tree, but he’d never believed it until now. Ruby Plank falling into his arms was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to him and he didn’t want to mess it up.
The trouble was, when it came to girls, he always did. And he was terrified that this time would be no different. Joseph was still going over and over in his mind what he would say as he approached Sara Yoder’s back door. The yard had been quiet, without anyone in sight, and he couldn’t hear any talking from inside. Sara’s house was usually bustling with young people coming and going, but today he didn’t see so much as a dragonfly hovering over the flowerbeds along the drive. What if he’d come to find that some other fellow had taken Ruby buggy riding? Or worse, what if she’d changed her mind about making a match after yesterday’s disaster and returned to Pennsylvania?
Gathering his courage, he knocked on the wooden screen door. No one appeared, so he knocked again, and then called out in Deitsch. “Hello? Is anybody to home?” Again, there was only silence except for a bee that had gotten trapped on the screen porch and was buzzing loudly as it attempted to escape.
Joseph’s stomach turned over. Now his head was really hurting. He was hot and sweaty, and he’d crossed his mother and come here hoping to see Ruby again. All for nothing. But he wasn’t ready to give up yet. Maybe they were in the garden and hadn’t heard him. He left the porch and circled around the house. In the side yard, farthest from the drive, was a wooden swing, a brick walk, a fishpond and a fountain. “Hello?” he called again.
And then he stopped short. There was a blanket spread on the clover near the tiny pond. A young woman lay stretched out on her stomach, bare ankles crossed, apparently lost in a book. But the most startling thing to Joseph was her hair. Among the Amish, a woman’s hair was always covered. Little girls wore pigtails with baby caps or student kapps. Teenage girls and women of all ages pinned their hair up in a bun and covered it with a scarf or a prayer kapp.
This woman was clearly Amish because she wore a sky blue dress with a dark apron over it. Black leather shoes stood beside the blanket with black stockings tossed beside them. But the woman’s hair wasn’t pinned up under a kapp or covered with a scarf. It rippled in a thick shimmering mane down the back of her neck and over her shoulders nearly to her waist.
Joseph’s mouth gaped. He clutched the bouquet of flowers so tightly between his hands that he distinctly heard several stems snap. He swallowed, unable to stop staring at her beautiful hair. It was brown, but brown in so many shades...tawny and russet...the color of shiny acorns in winter and the hue of ripe wheat. He knew he shouldn’t be staring. He’d intruded on a private moment, seen what he shouldn’t. He should turn and walk away. But he couldn’t.
He inhaled deeply. “Hello,” he stammered. “I’m sorry, I was looking for—”
“Ach!” The young woman rose on one elbow and twisted to face him. It was Ruby. Her eyes widened in surprise. “Joseph?”
“Ya. It’s me.” He struggled to think of something else sensible to say.
Ruby sat up, dropping her paperback onto the blanket, pulling her knees up and tucking her feet under her skirt. “I was drying my hair,” she said. “I washed it. I still had mud in it from last night.”
Joseph grimaced. “Sorry.”
“Ne.” She shook her head. “It was all my fault.”
“An accident,” he said.
“And you had to get stitches. Are you in pain?”
He shook his head.
“Goot. I was worried about you.”
He tried not to smile, but the thought that she’d worried about him filled him with hope.
“Everyone else went to Byler’s store.” She blushed prettily and covered her face with her hands. “But I stayed home. To wash my hair. What must you think of me without my kapp?” Her words were apologetic, but her tone was mischievous, rather than guilty. Dropping her hands, she chuckled.
She had a merry laugh, Joseph thought, a laugh as beautiful and unique as she was. She was regarding him with definite interest. Her eyes were the shade of cinnamon splashed with swirls of chocolate, large and thickly lashed. His mouth went dry.
She smiled encouragingly.
He shrugged. A dozen thoughts tumbled in his mind: he could comment about the color of her dress or ask her what she was reading or say something about the weather, but nothing seemed like the right thing to say. “I...I never know what to say to pretty girls,” he admitted as he tore his gaze away from hers. “You must think I’m thickheaded.” He shuffled his feet. “I’ll come back another time when—”
“Who are those flowers for?” Ruby asked. “Did you bring them for Sara?”
“Ne, not Sara.” Joseph’s face grew hot. He tried to say “I brought them for you,” but again the words stuck in his throat. Dumbly, he held them out to her. Several of the asters in the bouquet had broken stems and they hung down awkwardly. It took every ounce of his courage not to turn and run.
She scrambled to her feet, her smile as sweet as sunrise on a winter day, her beautiful eyes sparkling with pleasure. “Danki,” she said as she reached for the bouquet. “I love flowers. Nobody ever brought me flowers before.” She clutched them to her. “I think they’re wonderful.”
For a long moment, they stood staring at each other. Ruby’s hair tumbled down around her shoulders, still damp from the washing, the thick locks gleaming in the sunlight. Her hair looked so soft that he wanted to touch it, to feel the curls spring between his fingers.
Joseph stepped back another step and sucked in a breath of air. They were practically strangers. He shouldn’t be here with her without a chaperone. He shouldn’t be looking at her unbound hair. It was scandalous. If anyone found out, there would be talk. He couldn’t do that to Ruby. “I g-guess I should go,” he blurted. “I shouldn’t... We shouldn’t—”
“Ne,” she said. “Don’t go yet. Wait here. No, sit there.” She waved toward the wooden swing. It was fashioned of cedar, suspended on a sturdy frame and shaded by a latticework canopy. “Where it’s cooler. Wait there. I’ll be right back.” She ran several yards, then turned and ran back. “Stay right there,” she repeated before grabbing up everything in the blanket and dashing around the house.
Stunned, Joseph did as she said. Truthfully, it was good to get off his feet and when he gave a small push, the motion of the swing eased the tension in his neck and shoulders. What had he been thinking to come here this afternoon? To bring flowers for Ruby? But he’d had to come. He couldn’t get her off his mind. But he’d never expected her to be so sweet. He closed his eyes and thought about how pretty her unbound hair was.
* * *
Ruby slammed the kitchen door shut behind her. “Ya!” she exclaimed joyfully. “Ya!” Laughing, she spun around in a circle and buried her face in the flowers. Joseph had come back! She’d been certain that knocking him nearly senseless and sending him to the hospital had ruined any chance she might have had of attracting the respectable young mason. But, in spite of her clumsiness, he’d returned and brought her flowers. It was almost too good to be true. She couldn’t wait to tell her mother.
But Joseph had caught her in the yard, sprawled out on a blanket with her hair wet and hanging instead of being decently covered with her kapp, she reminded herself. He’d been shocked. Probably he’d come in search of one of the other girls and only given her the flowers to be kind. But he was kind. And not only good-looking, but sweet natured and clearly in search of a wife. She didn’t dare let herself hope that he might choose her, but neither could she throw away any opportunity she might have.
Her mother’s words of advice came to her as clearly as if her mommi were here in this room with her. You will find someone who will see your inner beauty, Ruby. And he will be the one who deserves you.
Coming to Sara Yoder’s and asking the matchmaker to find her a husband had been an act of desperation. Her parents had believed that the only way for her to find someone was to go to a place where no one knew her. And now Joseph had fallen into her lap. Or, rather, she’d fallen into his. She couldn’t let him slip through her fingers. He might not be someone that she wanted to marry, but she couldn’t know that until they were better acquainted.
Dropping the flowers into the sink, she searched for a container to put them in. Spying an old blue-and-white-speckled bowl and pitcher on a table in the adjoining room, she snatched up the pitcher, dumped the flowers in and filled the pitcher half-full of water. She left the arrangement on the counter and ran upstairs to her bedroom to make herself decent.
Grabbing a brush, she raked it though her damp hair, twisted the mass into a knot and pinned it securely at the back of her head. She snatched up her kapp and took the stairs to the first floor two at a time. What if Joseph hadn’t stayed in the yard? What if he’d examined the book she’d been reading and discovered that it was one of Sara’s romance novels? Would he think she was flighty?
Breathlessly, she filled glasses with ice and lemonade and hurried back outside. “Let him still be here,” she whispered. “Please let him be here.” She felt as though she’d swallowed a double handful of goose feathers. She liked Joseph; she really did. And she wanted him to like her. She stopped short, seeing the empty swing. Her heart sank and her knees went weak.
And then she saw him on his knees beside the fishpond. “Joseph!” she called too loudly. She gave him her best smile as she hurried toward him.
“Ruby.” He rose and stepped back from the lip of the pool. “Her fish are getting big,” he said. “I saw an orange-and-black one.” Joseph’s hat was crooked, and she could see that it was too tight due to the bulky bandage.
“I brought you a drink,” she said. “It’s hot out here. I hope you like lemonade.”
Joseph nodded. “Ya, I do.” His lips curved in a tentative smile.
She’d been with him all evening, here at the house and at the hospital, but she hadn’t really gotten a good look at him. She’d remembered his amazing eyes, but memory wasn’t as good as looking at him here in full daylight. They were as blue as cornflowers, intelligent, and they inspired trust. They were Deitsch blue eyes that seemed lit from within. He wasn’t a huge man, but neither was he small. He was exactly the right size, she decided, tall enough without being gangly, and broad at the shoulders without appearing muscle-bound. Joseph’s nose was straight and well formed, and he had a smattering of freckles across his rosy cheeks.
Was this the man her mother promised her would come?
Joseph reached for the glass.
Suddenly, she was aware that she’d been staring at him, lost in her own thoughts while he was waiting for his cold drink. She shoved the lemonade at him with too much force. As his hand closed around the glass, ice and liquid splashed across the front of his shirt.
“Ne!” she protested. “I’m so sorry.”
Joseph looked down at his shirt and laughed. “That’s one way to cool me off.”
“It’s all my fault,” she said. “I’m such a klutz.”
“My fault. I was looking at you and not the glass.”
Ruby shook her head. She felt sick. “You might as well know I always trip or drop or knock over things. I always have. When I was in school, the teacher called me stumble-bumble. I never got to write on the blackboard because I either snapped off the chalk or dropped the eraser and then kicked it when I leaned over to pick it up or—” She gestured, showing him the hopelessness of the situation.
“Yeah, well...did you ever get up in front of the whole school and the parents and...and...not be able to say your own name?” Joseph asked.
“You didn’t,” she exclaimed.
“I...I did.” He paused and then went on. “It was our Christmas party. I was supposed to recite a poem. It was short, just six lines. But I couldn’t get past my name. I just stood there like a block of wood with my mouth open, trying not to cry.”
Ruby pressed her lips together. “I know what you mean. It’s bad when I tip over the milk bucket or catch my apron in the barn door, but it’s worse when people are watching.”
He shook his head. “Anyone can have an accident.”
“But I make a regular habit of it.”
“Then I’d best take that other glass before you dump it over my head,” he teased.
For an instant, she thought he was mocking her, but when she saw the expression on his face, she was certain she’d made a friend. She gave him her lemonade and followed him sheepishly to the swing.
“You...you sit first,” Joseph said.
She could feel herself blushing, but she didn’t feel as though she was going to throw up anymore. She felt happy. She’d sent him to the hospital with a broken head and she’d tried to drown him in lemonade, and he didn’t seem to care. He was smiling at her the way she’d seen other boys smile at the girls they wanted to drive home from singings.
“Admit it,” he said. “You’ve never been at a loss for words.”
Ruby shook her head as he handed her lemonade to her. “Words I have aplenty,” she said. “Too many according to some people. My grandfather used to say that I talked faster than a horse could trot.” She sighed. “I’ve tried to stop and think before I speak, but the words bubble up inside me, and when I open my mouth they fly out.”
“I don’t think you talk too much,” Joseph pronounced solemnly. “I like to hear you talk.” He chuckled. “It keeps me from having to try and keep up my end of the conversation.”
She gazed down at her drink and considered what he’d just said. She took a sip of the lemonade. It was a little tart.
Joseph took a seat beside her. There was a gap between them, not too much, and not too little. They were far enough apart to satisfy propriety. “I have more work than I can do,” he said. “Bricklaying. Cement. Fireplaces.”
She held her breath.
“I asked Sara to try to find me a wife.”
Ruby’s heartbeat quickened.
“And...and I know that’s why you’re staying with Sara.” He met her gaze. “To...to find a husband, I mean, not to find a wife.”
She smiled at him, thinking he was the cutest thing she’d ever seen.
“If you don’t have anyone either, maybe—” he swallowed, and his fingers tightened on the glass “—I thought... I mean... I hoped we...”
“Could see if we suit each other?” she finished for him.
Joseph nodded eagerly.
“I’d like that,” she said. “I’d like that very much.”
“Me too,” he agreed. He looked down. “But...I suppose I... It’s only fair I should tell you I...I have a good trade and I work hard, but I’m far from well-off. And...and you should know that I have a widowed mother that I’m responsible for.” He spread his hands. “I’m a plain...plain man, Ruby. If that’s not what you’re looking for...”
She clapped her hands together and smiled at him. “That’s exactly what I’m looking for, Joseph Brenneman. I think we’ll suit each other very well.”
Chapter Three (#u11ccd54d-f96b-56f9-98b3-f69668d76425)
“It...it’s early. I...I know,” Joseph said, hat in hand at Sara’s back door. It was Wednesday morning, and he was starting a foundation for the Moses King family’s addition today. He had a lot of work to do. But he couldn’t wait any longer to speak to the matchmaker. “Could I? That is...is...” As usual, the words he wanted to say caught in his throat, choking him. He could feel his face growing hot. Sara would think him a fool. Maybe she was right.
Sara stepped out onto the porch in her bare feet. She was a round, tidy woman with crinkly dark hair, and dark eyes that seemed to bore through him. “Ruby isn’t here,” she said. “She went off with Ellie to the schoolhouse. Ellie’s our teacher. Today is their first day, and Ruby offered to give her a hand getting the first graders settled in.”
“Didn’t come to—” He broke off when he realized that he was practically shouting at Sara in an effort to get the words out. “Came to see you.” The last bit came in a rush, like shelled peas popping out of a shell all at once. He groaned inwardly. Why was this so hard? Words rolled off his cousin Andy’s tongue so easily. Tyler never seemed to have trouble talking to women. Joseph took a deep breath. “I want...” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Ruby. Make a match. You. With us.”
Sara’s shrewd face softened. “This sounds serious, Joseph. Maybe you’d best come to my office. I don’t like to discuss business in front of other people. I like to keep things confidential until matches are formally announced. To give everyone privacy.”
Joseph nodded and tugged on the brim of his straw work hat. He’d shaved and showered that morning. It was important to look his best. He might sound like a hayseed, but there was no need to look like one. He’d even worn a new shirt his mother just made him, but he had an old one in the buggy that he could change into when he got to the King house. If he ruined this one with concrete, his mother would not be happy, and when she wasn’t happy, home could be an unpleasant place. But the shirt didn’t matter now. It was what he had to get straight with Sara.
“Ruby,” he blurted. Her name came out in a whisper, which he corrected in a deep and more insistent tone. “Ruby. I...I want to talk to you about...” He looked down at his boots. “Her,” he finished in a rush of breath.
When he looked up, a hint of a smile lit Sara’s almond-shaped eyes, but her mouth remained firm. After a second’s hesitation, she held open the door and motioned him into the kitchen.
A tall girl in a lilac dress was washing dishes at the sink while an even prettier one dried. The tall one turned to smile at him. “Arlene,” Sara said, “This is Joseph Brenneman. Leah, I think you know each other.”
“Hello, Joseph,” Leah said. “It’s good to see you again.” And then to Arlene, “Joseph’s from another church district, but we used to see each other at auctions and work frolics.”
Arlene nodded. Smiled.
“Ya.” Joseph’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. Leah had once hit a home run when he was pitching at an interschool game. She’d married a Mennonite and gone to South America to be a missionary. He’d died and now Leah had come back to Seven Poplars; she was staying with the matchmaker. Leah had always been known as the beauty of the county and she’d been nice too. But he’d never been drawn to her, not even as a boy still wet behind the ears. “Ruby,” he managed. “I...came for Ruby. About Ruby,” he corrected. “A match...with Ruby. Maybe,” he added. “I hope,” he clarified.
Arlene chuckled. “I see,” she replied in Deitsch.
She wore a different-style kapp than Leah and the other local girls, a shape of prayer covering Joseph wasn’t familiar with. Ruby did too, but hers wasn’t like Arlene’s. Ruby’s was heart shaped. He decided that he liked Ruby’s kapp better.
Thankfully, Sara rescued him from having to say anything else by leading him through the kitchen to her office. Sara gestured to a chair in front of and facing a desk. She closed the door and took a seat behind the desk. The desktop was empty except for a spiral notebook and a black pen.
Joseph leaned forward in his chair. The windows were open, but with the door closed there wasn’t any breeze and it was warm in here. Unconsciously, he ran a finger under his collar. Sara was just sitting there, looking at him. He couldn’t have been more uncomfortable if she’d caught him chopping wood without his shirt. “I want...want to court Ruby,” he declared bluntly.
“So I gather.” Sara sat back and smiled. “This is a little sudden, don’t you think? You’ve known each other, what? Three days? And that’s including today, and I don’t think you’ve even seen her today.” Her eyes sparkled with amusement rather than disapproval.
Joseph shifted in his chair. It was straight backed, oak and had probably been made at the chair shop not half a mile away. His mouth felt dry and he was slightly light-headed. “Ya, but...” He exhaled. But what? How did he explain to Sara that how long they’d known each other had nothing to do with anything? That he’d known the moment he’d opened his eyes, lying flat out in Sara’s driveway, that Ruby was the girl for him.
Sara’s chuckle became a full-throated laugh. It was a jolly laugh for a woman and it came up from deep in her chest and bubbled out with genuine mirth.
Joseph stood up. He wasn’t going to sit here and be laughed at.
“Sit down, sit down,” Sara insisted, waving her hand at him. “I wasn’t laughing at you. I was surprised. But in a good way, Joseph. I’m just not used to young men being in such a hurry.” She laced her fingers together, leaned forward and rested her hands on the desktop. “Don’t you want to get to know Ruby a little before you start talking about marriage?”
