It was late afternoon and the dirt path that ran from the Seven Poplars schoolhouse where Ellie taught, to Sara Yoder’s place, where she lived, was deserted except for the two of them. The path crossed several Amish farms and this section wound through an apple orchard. The trees were bursting with new leaves and just beginning to bud from the branches on either side of the rutted lane. The only sounds, other than the thud of Thomas’s accelerated heartbeat, were the buzzing of bees and the scolding song of a wren.
He scowled down at Ellie. “Why don’t you want to marry me?”
“I should have never let it get this far.” She looked up at him, her hands clasped together. “I knew we weren’t meant to wed. But I like you and you’re so much fun.”
“I think you are, too. Isn’t that enough? That we genuinely like each other and always have a good laugh?”
She shook her head sadly. “Ne, Thomas, it isn’t enough for me.”
In frustration, he yanked off his broad-brimmed hat and threw it on top of the scattered books. “I don’t understand. I thought you wanted to be my wife.”
“I never said that, Thomas.”
He scowled.
She picked up his hat, brushed the leaves off it and handed it back to him. “I care for you, Thomas, but I don’t want to have your babies, and I can’t see us growing old together. We talked about this months ago. Remember?” Her blue eyes clouded with emotion.
“Ya, but I thought...” What did he think? She’d told him last fall that he needed to start walking out with other girls, but he hadn’t, and the next thing he knew he and Ellie were running around together again.
“We’re not a good match, Thomas. And if you’re honest with yourself, you’ll agree. I think what we have is...” Her brow furrowed as she seemed to search for the right word. “A convenient friendship.”
“Convenient?” Needing to look her in the eye, he caught her around the waist and lifted her so that her small feet, clad in black leather lace-up sneakers, balanced on the fallen tree trunk. Ellie was a little person, and when she stood beside him, the top of her snowy-white prayer kapp barely reached the middle of his chest. After their first meeting he’d never thought of her as small, or different than any of the other girls he had walked out with. Ellie cast a big shadow.
Ellie’s eyes registered a sharp warning. Putting his hands on her in such a familiar way was inappropriate, and they both knew it. At the moment, he was too upset to care.
A knot tightened in his throat. “Ellie, I don’t understand,” he said. “A convenient relationship? What’s that supposed to mean?”
His face must have shown how hurt he was because her features softened. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said convenient,” she answered. “But you know exactly what I’m talking about. You and I run around together because it’s easy. It’s comfortable. But we’re not in love with each other and you know it.” With a sigh, she fixed him with a penetrating look. “Now stop feeling sorry for yourself and hear what I’m saying. It’s for the best for both of us.” She waited a moment, then added, “You know I’m right.”
He glanced away, not ready to concede, no matter how right she was. He looked back at her and she offered a faint smile.
“Who told you to propose to me?” she asked him.
Flushing, Thomas felt a rush of guilt. She knew him so well. “My mother.”
“Exactly.” Ellie’s eyes narrowed, making him feel as if he was one of her students who’d been caught staring out the schoolroom window instead of attending to his math.
“And what did your mam say?” Ellie demanded as she folded her arms. “Exactly.”
He exhaled. “That it was time I had a family of my own.” He ground the toe of his work boot into the soft grass. “That you were a sensible young woman who would keep me in line, and I was foolish if I didn’t pop the question before someone else did.”
“Do those seem like good reasons?”
He gripped his hat so hard that the brim crushed between his fingers. He was devastated...sort of. “But we get along so well,” he hedged. “And everyone says—”
“That because we have fun together, we should spend the rest of our lives as husband and wife?” She shook her head. “Not good enough. Not for me. Not for you.” She was quiet for a moment and then went on. “And the truth is, Thomas, you’re relieved. I can see it in your face. You weren’t all that eager to tie the knot with me, no matter what your mother or anyone else said. Were you?” she pressed.
He wanted to protest, but Ellie was right. He was more surprised and embarrassed than brokenhearted. And he did feel a sense of faint but unmistakable relief. “No chance you’ll reconsider?” he asked lamely.
She shook her head, took hold of his hand and jumped down onto the lane. “I’m not the special one for you, Thomas. If I was, you’d know it.”
“You think?” He sank down on the log. “I’m not so sure. I’ve dated practically every unmarried Amish girl in the county and a lot of girls from other places. My buddies all found someone they wanted to spend the rest of their lives with, but not me...” He looked at her. “Maybe there’s something wrong with me. Maybe I’m not meant to be married and have a family.”
“Nonsense.” Ellie picked up her books and brushed off the bits of grass that clung to the covers. “Your mother’s right about one thing. It is time you married. Past time. I think your problem is that you don’t know how to find the right woman. You’re looking for the wrong things. You’re looking at the wrong things, mostly pretty faces. Married life isn’t just about fun and sweet smiles, Thomas.”
“Now you definitely sound like my mother.” He dropped his hat onto his lap, leaned forward and buried his fingers in his hair. The way Ellie put it, it made him sound shallow. And maybe there was some truth to the accusation. He’d been attracted to Ellie because of her cute figure, her pretty face and her sparkling personality. He liked pretty girls. And he liked to have fun. Was that so wrong?
“I sound like your mother because she’s right. I’m right,” Ellie insisted. “You want a wife and a family, don’t you? You want to father children and live our faith?”
“Of course. I just don’t—” He sighed. “I guess I don’t know how to find that.”
“Exactly. So what I’m thinking is that you need some help.” She poked him with her finger. “You need someone to make a good match for you. You can’t just look for a pretty face. You have to look deeper than that and find what’s important in a partner. You need the matchmaker’s help. You need Sara Yoder.”
“You think I need a matchmaker?” he scoffed, meeting her gaze.
“Why not?” Ellie shrugged. “She’s very good at it and it’s not as though you’re a hopeless case. You have a lot to offer a woman. You have a trade—two trades, if you count blacksmithing.”
He frowned. “I’m a terrible blacksmith.”
“Okay, but you’re a decent rough carpenter. And you know something about farming. You have that promise of land from your grandfather, and you own a horse and buggy.” She studied him carefully. “And you have a good heart and a strong back,” she allowed. “You’ve never been afraid of hard work.”
He flashed her a grin, recovering some of his equilibrium. “Not to mention that girls think I’m handsome.”
“Humph.” She puckered her lips. “Prideful, the bishop would say. And a show-off.”