The Amish Christmas Matchmaker. Vannetta Chapman
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that wasn’t so easy.
On Friday, Levi managed to tax her patience to the limit.
It didn’t help that she had a wedding the next day, the florist had ordered roses instead of mums and she’d spent ten hours in the kitchen cooking and shredding chicken. When Levi and her father trotted inside, leaving muddy prints across the floor she’d just cleaned, Annie thought she might flip like pancakes on a griddle. Things went downhill from there.
She placed a dish of chicken potpie in the middle of the table. Beside it was a loaf of fresh bread, butter and a large salad. Her mamm came in asking about the field work, and they all sat down to eat—including Levi. The serving bowls had barely been passed when her dat started in on the Texas trivia points for the day.
“Levi was telling me about Texas longhorns.”
Levi held his hands up to his head and then spread them as far apart as possible. “Big longhorns.”
“Horns curve outward and can measure up to eight feet in length,” her father said. “Sharp on the end, but apparently they’re gentle animals.”
“Most are.” Levi reached for an extra piece of bread. “Best to check with the owner before approaching one.”
Annie dropped her fork onto her helping of chicken potpie and gave Levi her most critical look. It always worked when she substituted at their local school, but Levi simply shoveled in another forkful of chicken pie and grinned at her.
“Great dinner,” he said after he’d swallowed.
She learned about the rivers that often ran dry, the terribly hot summer temperatures—her father laughed at that as if such a thing would be eons better than their pleasant summers—and even about their wildflowers.
Finally, she said, “If you’ll excuse me, I need to load up my trailer.”
“I can help with that,” Levi said.
“Nein—”
“How kind of you, Levi.” Her mamm stood and began picking up dishes. “Accept his help, Annie, and your dat and I can clean up this kitchen.”
Annie couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her father help with the dishes. This was plainly a trick to throw her and Levi together, and she couldn’t imagine what her mother was thinking. Unless...maybe she was hoping that she would set Levi straight. She could certainly do that.
“Okay then. Danki, Levi. If you’ll pick up those boxes of cooked chicken, I’ll bring the loaves of bread.” The bread tray was clumsier but lighter. The chicken would have taken her at least two trips, but Levi picked up both large boxes and looked around as if he were wondering what else he could carry.
They were barely out the back door when he started in with his questions.
“You have a wedding tomorrow? I thought most Amish weddings were on Tuesday or Thursday.”
He was tall and his shadow leaped out in front of them as if it was leading the way. The thought annoyed Annie, though she supposed he had no control over his shadow.
“Tomorrow’s wedding is a special situation. This family has relatives who live out of town. They couldn’t arrive until late on a Friday afternoon, so we scheduled the wedding for a Saturday.”
“You cater a lot of weddings?”
“Ya, I do...” She turned toward him when they reached her trailer, ready to confront him about this Texas issue. Then she looked over her shoulder, and the sight of her mobile kitchen eased the knot of tension in her shoulders. “You can bring those inside.”
The trailer was small, but she was proud of it. Inside was a mobile kitchen—with dishes for five hundred people, propane-powered refrigerators, three stoves that provided her with a dozen burners, plus a large industrial-sized oven that was six feet tall. On the side, they’d had stenciled the words Plain & Simple Weddings in a black italic font.
She set the trays with loaves of fresh bread in the oven. It was taller than she was and would hold the loaves just fine. She didn’t have to turn it on, because the loaves were already baked. She’d heat them before the luncheon. When he handed her the boxes of chicken, she took each platter out and set it in one of the propane refrigerators, which she’d turned on earlier in the day.
Levi’s eyes widened as he looked around, and he let out a long whistle. “Wow. Some setup you have here.”
“It is, and it took time and a lot of work to be able to afford it.”
“You pull this with your buggy?”
“No, I don’t pull it with my buggy. That would be illegal, not to mention unsafe.” She nudged him back out the door of the trailer.
“Then how...”
She waved away his question. She had no intention of telling him the ins and outs of her business. He didn’t need to know that she had an Englisch partner who owned a large pickup truck. Though she could imagine what Priscilla would say about Levi, and that eased even more of the tension in her neck. Priscilla would call him tall-fair-and-yummy.
She walked out of the trailer and said a quick prayer for patience and wisdom. She seemed to need large helpings of both around Levi Lapp. “I need to talk to you about my dat.”
“Oh. He’s a nice guy. You have a wunderbaar family.”
“Ya, I do.” She thought to ask him about his family, but she didn’t want to get distracted. “Look, I wish you well in finding a group to start in Texas...”
“Your dat seems quite keen about the idea.”
“That’s the thing I wanted to talk to you about. Remember what I told you before? Dat gets excited about an idea, usually for about a week.”
“Maybe this time is different.”
“It isn’t.”
“How can you know that?”
“Because I know him. He’s a gut worker, a gut provider and a gut husband and dat. He doesn’t smoke or drink or run around.”
“Which would make him a great addition to my group.”
“We’re not moving to Texas!” The words came out more sharply than she’d intended, and for a moment the ever-present smile slipped from Levi’s face.
Finally, she was getting through to him.
Or so she thought.
“Change is hard. I understand. And you have this thriving business...”
“Which I have no intention of packing up and moving to Stephenville, Texas.”
“Might not be Stephenville. It would depend on where we can find good land at a reasonable price.”
“You’re missing my point.” Maybe she should try appealing to his sense of right and wrong. “Mamm and I like it here. My bruders, they live close enough that they’re able to help with the harvest. My schweschder lives down the road. We have freinden and family here, and I have a thriving business. We. Are. Not. Moving.”
She’d moved out in front of him, but he scooted around her and plopped down on the step which led up into the trailer. She stood there, arms crossed, waiting for the truth of what she was saying to sink in beneath his cowboy hat.
“I think what you’re actually trying to say is that you’d like me to stop speaking to your dat about a move.”
“Exactly.”
“Would you also like me to quit working for him?”
“What? No. Obviously, he’s satisfied with your work, and he needs the help.”
“Would