The Matchmaker (5 page)

Only after she had paid for the hinge and returned to Hannah’s side did she realize the extent of her friend’s interest in Ralph Martin. They were discussing an article in the latest
Blackboard Bulletin
and laughing about the writer’s interpretation of a particular Scripture. Emma cleared her throat and forced a smile.

“We really must get going,” she whispered to Hannah, eager to leave the store. “We need to stop over at Anna’s for help with the pattern, and I need to be certain to return home by dinnertime.”

“I’ve kept you long enough, then,” Ralph said, obviously overhearing what Emma had whispered, just as she had intended. “It was right
gut
to see you again, Hannah.” He lifted his hand to wave at Emma before turning around and heading down the next aisle.

Emma’s eyes trailed after him, and she noticed that he looked up not once but twice to watch as Hannah left the store. Emma quickly decided that she needed to know more about this Ralph Martin and to understand what, exactly, was the extent of the relationship between him and Hannah.

“How well do you know Ralph Martin?” she asked as they walked down the sidewalk toward the horse and buggy tied to the hitching post.

Hannah giggled and blushed for the second time. “When I first came out here, I stayed a week at their house. I met his sister, Elizabeth, in Ohio when she came out last year for a cousin’s wedding.”

Emma’s red flag went up even further. “And what does Ralph do for a living?”

“He raises pigs,” Hannah replied.

Immediately Emma’s feet stopped walking and she turned to stare at her friend. “You mean he’s a pig farmer?” Despite her best intentions, Emma couldn’t hide the tone in her voice, a tone that bespoke her displeasure at this occupation. After all, everyone knew that being a pig farmer was one of the most distasteful careers for an Amish man. It was, indeed, a dirty business, with a smell that lingered on the skin no matter how often one showered. “And you stayed at their farm for . . . an entire week?”

Hannah nodded, too wrapped up in her thoughts to notice Emma’s tone. “They rent it, you know. From your friend Gideon, I believe.”

This was news indeed. Emma frowned. She had never inquired too much about Gideon’s private business. Most of the times when he visited, his attention was directed at her
daed
. Of course, as the years had passed and the acquaintance become more familiar, she knew that he owned a large property where storage sheds were built for the
Englische
. He had upwards of twelve Amish men who worked for him, building the structures, a fact that freed up quite a bit of his time to permit, among other things, his weekly visits to her
daed
.

“Why, I had no idea! Gideon never mentioned that he rented out a farm. And all the way in Strasburg?” She made a mental note to inquire about this tidbit of news from her
daed
. “With all the time that he spends visiting, I should think I would know him better than most!”

“It’s a small farm,” Hannah said. “I believe he inherited it.” She was quiet as she searched her memory. “
Nee
, that’s not it. He bought it when he was younger and intended to farm. However, he’s been letting it out to the Martins for almost twelve years. That’s what Ralph told me.”

This news surprised Emma. She didn’t like being caught off guard. “Regardless, I’m quite certain that I have never met your friend before today!”

“What did you think of him?” Hannah asked, a soft smile on her lips—one that Emma didn’t care for at all. She could read the message behind that smile. It was a smile that spoke of buggy rides home from singings and whispered promises in the dark. “He’s a rather kind-looking man,
ja
?”

Emma hesitated before responding, trying to carefully figure out her words before speaking. She certainly did not want to insult this man. Still, she was perplexed as to how she could point out the obvious flaw to her friend. “I think most people are, ain’t so?” she finally stammered. “There is certainly nothing unkind in his face.”

The hesitant manner of Emma’s speech caused Hannah to pause and ponder her words. “Is there something wrong with Ralph, Emma?”

“Nee
,
nee
,” she responded quickly . . . too quickly . . . as she resumed walking toward the buggy. She lifted her hand and waved to an older woman who walked down the sidewalk toward the store they had just left. “I’ve always admired farmers for their gentle mannerisms and simple ways.”

“He is gentle,” Hannah admitted.

“I suppose he doesn’t leave the farm very often,” Emma added. “It must be a lonely life, living on a farm. Most girls today work at market or clean unless they were raised on a farm. I’m rather thankful that my
daed
wasn’t a farmer.”

“It is hard work,” Hannah agreed.

“Ja vell
,” Emma smiled. “I’m sure he’ll be a right
gut
man for some woman who doesn’t mind the occupation that comes with him.”

“You mean because he raises pigs?”

Emma glanced at Hannah. “I had an
onkel
who raised a pig once and I could scarce stand the stench. I wonder how many pigs Ralph keeps?”

A forlorn look of understanding crossed Hannah’s face. “He gets them on contract. There weren’t any there when I stayed with Elizabeth, but she told me he gets over a hundred at a time.”

“A hundred!” Emma gasped at the number. “Why! You must thank the good Lord that you were there in between contracts! The smell of a hundred hogs would never have left your clothing!”

Hannah wrinkled her nose. “I suppose there was a mild odor to the farm, I do reckon.”

“Certainly nothing like a dairy farm or a home with a man of trade,” Emma added casually. “I’m more familiar with men like Gideon King and Paul Esh! Why, I’m sure that Paul Esh’s house never smells like pig!” She laughed lightly and was pleased that Hannah joined her. “And I can scarce imagine a pig farmer ever being nominated to lead the church! That’s such a great honor, you know,” she whispered before she opened the buggy door and placed her foot
on the metal step. “A true godly man leads the church, nominated by the people and chosen by God.”

Hannah didn’t respond.

“Consider how different your Ralph is when compared to Gideon or . . . ” She glanced at Hannah. “Paul.” She smiled. “Why, Paul was most delightful company the other night, and he’s a godly man, don’t you think?”

“Paul did seem rather righteous the other evening,” Hannah said slowly. “In a good way, of course.”

“Of course.” Emma pulled herself into the buggy and moved over, giving Hannah room to join her on the cloth-covered seat. “After all, Paul is the son of the bishop. I would expect nothing less than for him to be a role model of righteousness for the rest of us to emulate. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was nominated to lead the church one day too!” She smiled at Hannah, who was now sitting beside her. “After he’s married, that is.”

Without another word Emma released the brake to the buggy and urged the horse to back up a few steps before pulling lightly on the right rein in order to leave the parking lot of the general store. There was no further discussion about Paul Esh or Ralph Martin as they drove the back roads toward the Wagler home. Instead, the two young women began to talk about the quilt that they intended to make and how exciting it would be to have it finished in time for the October auction.

The Wagler home was small and quaint. As farm land fell prey to development, the Amish community continued to expand, forcing more and more families to live in contemporary homes. It was easy to convert them to accommodate the Amish lifestyle, simply by removing the electric lines and modern conveniences. The Wagler home was one of them.
However, it sat on a nice-size lot, and most would consider it a farmette despite the fact that most of the property seemed to be simple pasture.

As Emma pulled the buggy into the driveway, she looked around at her friend’s new home with a sense of comfort. Samuel Wagler may have been alone for many years, but it was clear that he had a fine sense of care when it came to his property. Not a weed grew among the landscaping, and the bushes were all properly trimmed. It spoke well of his character, and once again Emma was pleased for her cousin in marrying such a fine man.

“Wilkum
, girls!” Anna Wagler stood at the front door and smiled at the two young women as they made their way to the house, their arms laden with cloth for the quilt they were going to make. “I was wondering when you might arrive! Come in, come in!”

Despite being older, Anna still had the physique of a young woman, tall and willowy instead of the typical stoutness found in Amish women her age. Her brown hair, pulled back under the white heart-shaped prayer
kapp
, lacked any gray, and her dark eyes sparkled at her two visitors. Clearly Anna was happy in her new home and eager to entertain her former ward and her friend.

The kitchen was smaller than the one at Emma’s home, and it took her a moment to get oriented to the differences between the two. There was a small, plain pine table with a pretty green-and-white checkered tablecloth covering it. Anna had already set out a pitcher of meadow tea and a basket of freshly baked cookies. After the proper greetings were exchanged, Anna encouraged the girls to partake of the refreshments. While Emma merely took one cookie to nibble at, Hannah was more than happy to have two.

“So which pattern will you do then?” Anna asked as she fingered the material. “You sure picked out beautiful colors.”

And they had. Emma loved the color blue and had picked different variations and patterns in that color. Against a white backdrop, the quilt would be lovely on any bed. “For the center panel,” she responded, her fingers brushing against one bolt of the fabric. “Something simple like the shoofly pattern, I reckon. But I’m thinking to leave a wider border and do some more detailed quilting patterns there.”

“Why, that will be quite lovely!” Anna exclaimed.

“And we’ll be donating it to the Mennonite Central Committee to raise money for the poor,” Emma added with a smile. Her face lit up at the mention of helping others. She had first started donating her work when she was fourteen. Her older sister, Irene, had helped with her first quilt, a simple twin-size quilt in greens and brown cloth. While not a very intricate piecing design, the quilting itself had been labored over during the late summer and early autumn months. When she had finally finished it, everyone had been surprised at her proclamation that she was donating it, rather than putting it into her own hope chest.

Over the years Anna had helped Emma with the piecing and quilting for at least five quilts. It saddened both of their hearts that, because of her marriage, she would not be able to work on this new quilt with Emma. In times past they enjoyed many a quiet afternoon seated in front of the old wooden quilting frame set up in the living room of the Weaver household. There was something about quilting that created a bond between women.

“And Hannah,” Anna began, shifting her attention from Emma to the younger woman. “Have you made many quilts then?”

“Nee
.” Hannah shook her head in response. “This will be my first.”

“Your first quilt?” The question came out more as an expression of disbelief. Anna looked from Hannah to Emma then back to Hannah. Emma didn’t need for Anna to say what was on her mind. It was almost impossible to believe that any Amish woman had never made a quilt. “
Ja vell
, then,” Anna stammered, searching for the right words. “It’s right
gut
that Emma shows you how, I reckon. She has a lovely stitch.”

“It’s no finer than yours, I reckon,” Emma countered demurely, but her eyes glowed at the compliment. “After all, it was you who taught me.”

For the next hour the three women sketched out on paper the pattern for the quilt, deciding the order of the different fabric for each of the individual squares used to make up the quilt. Most of the discussion was between Emma and Anna, Hannah being a mere observer who watched the conversation as if she were at a volleyball game. Her eyes traveled from Emma to Anna and back to Emma again as the two women laid out their plan on paper, obvious experts in a field that Hannah knew nothing about and to which she could contribute nothing more than her enthusiasm for learning.

It was close to eleven when they heard the sound of men’s footsteps on the porch. Emma lifted her head from the paper where she had been sketching the final design and glanced at Anna, an unspoken question lingering in the air. It didn’t need to be answered as Samuel appeared in the doorway with a familiar face by his side.

“Why, Gideon King!” Emma exclaimed. “Whatever brings you here?”

He laughed at her reaction. “Helping Samuel with some new equipment he bought at the auction. You shouldn’t sound so surprised, Emma. I do have other friends beside your
daed
.”

She made a face at his teasing statement but did not respond. She was too used to Gideon being a fixture at their own house, a regular companion to her
daed
, welcomed even more now that Anna had married and moved to her own house with her new husband.

“Equipment?” Anna smiled and glanced over Gideon’s shoulder at her husband. “Did you purchase something then?”

“Ja
,
ja
, I did.” He set his straw hat on the counter and ran his fingers through his graying hair. The age difference between Samuel and Anna disappeared whenever he set his eyes upon his young wife. The sparkle that lit up his face made it more than clear how he felt about her. “It’s only a small farmette, but we can have a right nice garden and I can set up my shop in the outer building.”

Emma raised an eyebrow and glanced at Anna. “You’ll be gardening?”

“Oh,
ja
! A right big garden with corn, brussels sprouts, asparagus, and peppers, as well as the usual things we planted at your home.”

The way Anna nodded her head and smiled surprised Emma, for while Anna had been the main gardener at the Weaver home for all of those years, she had never expressed such enthusiasm for the chore. Granted, the Weaver property was small, not even two full acres, and the garden had only consisted of simple things, such as herbs, tomatoes, beans, and cucumbers. For the rest of their needs they had chosen to buy their vegetables and canned goods from neighbors
and friends. They had kept far too busy with quilting and visiting and tending to the care of the house and
Daed
, especially after he retired from his work repairing buggies.