LITMIR.BIZ

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too painful.

      So she’d folded the letter back up, and had gently placed the box on top of her dresser, then flung her kapp over it so she wouldn’t have to stare at it.

      She tried to focus on the sermons. The first was something about Joshua and Moses and the lost Israelites. Standing between her grandmother and her neighbor, Olivia Mae prayed, sang, kneeled and stood. She felt as if she was going through the motions, but the ritual soothed her nonetheless. After all, Gotte was in control last week, and he was still in control.

      Even though Daddi’s condition seemed to be worse...

      Even though Mammi grew more unpredictable each day...

      Bishop Lucas stood and startled Olivia Mae out of her daydreams. He’d been their bishop for over six months now, but still she was surprised that it wasn’t Atlee who offered their blessing over the meal, who sent them out to be the people of Gotte, as he was so fond of saying. She was sure that Lucas would make a fine bishop, though he seemed awfully young at fifty-two. The truth was that in her heart she missed Atlee. He’d been like a wise old onkel to her. He’d been someone that she could be completely honest with.

      Another hymn, and then they were dismissed and she was hurrying to check on Daddi, who insisted he was fine. Several of the men told her not to worry, they would take care of her grandfather.

      Mammi was already standing behind the serving line when she joined it. She reached out and touched Olivia Mae’s arm, and a flash of understanding passed between them. Being away from the farm was good, but being in public was always nerve-racking. There was just no telling what Daddi would do.

      Her mammi’s look reminded her that they were among friends, among family. She could stop worrying, at least for a few hours.

      So Olivia Mae made her way down the line to the table with the main dishes—cold crispy chicken, thick slices of ham, spicy links of sausage. First the elders came through, then the women with the little ones, followed closely by the men. Finally the youngies, who filled their plates high, never worrying about calories or fat content. The last group was what Olivia Mae thought of as her people—Amish men and women in their twenties, some recently married and without children, some courting and some who seemed caught in that in-between place.

      Jane stepped up with Francine. The two girls were barely twenty and stuck together like peanut butter and honey, which sometimes complicated her matchmaking efforts.

      “Gudemariye, Olivia Mae.” Jane smiled at her brightly—expectantly.

      “And to you.”

      Francine leaned forward. “We heard you were setting up a match for Noah Graber.”

      “Nein. Noah’s not interested.” Olivia Mae pushed a plate of sandwiches forward, trying to buy herself some time. “I would like to talk to you, though, if you have a minute.”

      “We’ll save you a place.” Their heads together and giggling, both Jane and Francine moved toward the dessert table.

      She’d thought nearly everyone was through the line the first time, and was looking to make sure that Mammi had made herself a plate, when Noah stepped in front of her table.

      “I heard the fried chicken is gut today.”

      “Did you, now?”

      His hat was pushed back on his head, once again revealing the curly hair, and he was actually making eye contact with her. No doubt he felt safer with the table between them—she wasn’t going to jump over it and drag him toward a woman he might feel pressured to court. She couldn’t help noticing he was in a better mood, as well. Perhaps because he wasn’t on her front porch. Men like Noah relaxed on what they thought of as neutral ground. She’d have to suggest he take Jane to a restaurant in town. A family dinner would be too much pressure.

      “Too bad there’s not any chicken left.”

      “I gather you’d like some.”

      “It’s why I’m standing here with no meat on my plate—my bruders insisted that I had to try it.”

      “Smart guys, your bruders.” Olivia Mae opened the cooler under the table, pulled out her large Tupperware container and scooted it toward him. “I always make extra.”

      The grin he gave her caused butterflies to twirl in her stomach. Yes, this one could be a charmer. She only needed someone who was willing to push past his disinterested facade, smooth the rough edges and convince him that he wasn’t happily single.

      He thanked her for the chicken and moved toward the dessert table. Tall and handsome. There was no way she was letting Noah Graber get away from their community. His family was here. He belonged here! He probably faced a contented future with a house full of children.

       No woman can be happy with fewer than seven to cook for.

      The old proverb danced through her mind. She didn’t completely agree with it. After all, she was happy right now. But then, that was a different story. She didn’t abide gender stereotypes, but she did believe that men were happier with families. Hadn’t she read an article in the grocery checkout line about that very thing? Something about men living five years longer if they were married, and up to seven if they had children.

      When she thought of it in those terms, she wasn’t prying her way into Noah’s life, she was looking out for his health. Isn’t that what the people of Gotte were supposed to do?

      She plopped a crispy chicken leg onto her plate, added a scoop of macaroni salad and a slice of cheese and chose a chocolate brownie for dessert. She was going to need the calories if she was going to be successful today. They might rest from their daily work on Sundays, but matchmaking was a seven-day-a-week affair.

      She made her way to where Jane and Francine were sitting and enjoying their meal.

      “Uh-oh. She has that glint in her eye.” Francine bumped Jane’s shoulder. “And I think it’s your turn.”

      “Why do you say that?”

      “Because I had a date two weeks ago, and you haven’t had one in... I don’t know—a month.”

      “Ya. I’m journaling about my good qualities, like Olivia Mae told me to.”

      Olivia Mae only raised an eyebrow and bit into her chicken. It really was good. She’d learned the recipe from Mammi. The trick was to use a good sprinkling of garlic salt but not too much, and to keep the fire high enough to render the coating crispy but not burnt.

      “Just tell us who it is.” Francine clasped her hands in her lap and leaned forward. “It is Noah? I bet it is. He’s the only new person I see here, and you have a definite new-person glint in your eye.”

      “I didn’t know my eyes were so readable.” Olivia Mae wiped at her mouth with her napkin. “Yes, it is Noah, and I think we should give Jane the first try.”

      “Because I’m taller. That’s it. Right?” Jane slumped down in her seat. “Why do I have to be so—”

      “Three things.”

      Jane rolled her eyes.

      “I’m serious about this—you both know I am. Our first step toward progress is to defeat those negative thoughts in your mind. Now tell me three positive things about your height.”

      Francine giggled, but Jane screwed up her face as if she hadn’t been presented with this question a dozen times. She had. Olivia Mae thought it was her biggest obstacle to finding a suitable man. Jane wasn’t that tall, but in her mind she was an ostrich. It didn’t help that her first few dates had been with very short men, which only served to reinforce the gangly image she had of herself.

      “I can reach the top shelf in the pantry.”

       “Gut.”

      “I’ve

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