The Amish Marriage Arrangement, page 1
“Is someone courting you?” Arden asked.
“That’s a brazen question.” It was also a question that stung a little bit.
“I was just...” His face colored. “Sorry, I was curious. I thought someone would be... I mean...”
His embarrassment softened her. “No, I don’t have anyone special at the moment, not that it’s your business. But we do have a quality matchmaker here in Redemption, and as my mammi points out, I’ve got some marriageable qualities. So I don’t think it’s being too prideful to expect to find a husband.”
Besides, Sarai had faith that Gott would bring the right man along...hopefully soon, and very possibly in Shipshewana.
“You’ll have no problem at all.” Arden shot her a lopsided smile that made her breath catch. He’d always been a charmer.
Arden had also always irritated her. While the other girls in Redemption swooned at his smiles and got their hearts broken by this too-smooth and too-handsome man, Sarai had seen him for what he was—selfish. It was a game for him, and she refused to ever fall for the likes of Arden Stoltzfus.
Patricia Johns is a Publishers Weekly bestselling author who writes from Alberta, Canada. She has her Hon. BA in English literature and currently writes for Harlequin’s Love Inspired and Heartwarming lines. She also writes Amish romance for Kensington Books. You can find her at patriciajohns.com.
Books by Patricia Johns
Love Inspired
Amish Country Matches
The Amish Matchmaking Dilemma
Their Amish Secret
The Amish Marriage Arrangement
Redemption’s Amish Legacies
The Nanny’s Amish Family
A Precious Christmas Gift
Wife on His Doorstep
Snowbound with the Amish Bachelor
Blended Amish Blessings
The Amish Matchmaker’s Choice
Harlequin Heartwarming
Amish Country Haven
A Deputy in Amish Country
A Cowboy in Amish Country
Her Amish Country Valentine
Visit the Author Profile page at LoveInspired.com for more titles.
The Amish Marriage Arrangement
Patricia Johns
Let all your things be done with charity.
—1 Corinthians 16:14
To my husband and son. I love you both so much! You are the happiest part of every day.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Epilogue
Dear Reader
Excerpt from The Amish Nanny’s Promise by Amy Grochowski
Chapter One
Sarai Peachy’s grandmother sat at the kitchen table with a ledger in front of her. She squinted at the small print, a pen in hand.
“You don’t have to do that, Mammi,” Sarai said. “I can take care of it.”
“It’s all right, dear,” Mammi Ellen replied. “We’re getting more customers now with your hens. We’ve got Englisher orders coming in faster than we can fill them. That’s a blessing, you know.”
Blessings often come dressed like hard work. That was what her late Dawdie Jacob used to say, and Sarai smiled at the memory. There was a sign at the road that read Peachy Eggs—Marans, Easter Eggers, Ameraucanas, Light Sussex, Olive Eggers. Inquire at the house. A sign at the road was enough to bring in customers so far, and word of mouth had spread the news of their colorful, organic, free-range eggs.
In fact, Sarai’s cousin Katie had been asking Sarai’s advice on how to grow her own flock of hens that would produce such varied eggs as well, and in the last few letters they’d exchanged, Katie had come up with an idea. Sarai’s Aunt Lovie and Uncle Jonah in Shipshewana were opening their home to tour groups and giving buggy rides. Katie was selling eggs and offering tours of the coops. They were finding more success than they’d imagined, and they needed someone to help out with running the place. Why not Sarai? Katie asked.
It was an intriguing offer. It would use Sarai’s skills as well as put her in a new community to meet available young men... Except, she was staying with Mammi Ellen because Mammi needed the help more urgently. Mammi loved her house, and she couldn’t take care of it alone anymore. If Sarai went to Aunt Lovie and Uncle Jonah’s house, Mammi would never be able to continue on her own. She’d have to move in with family somewhere, and it would break her heart. Although, an idea had started to stir...
“We have three more people on our waiting list for regular orders,” Mammi Ellen said. “You’ve really gotten this egg business off the ground, dear girl.”
Sarai Peachy stood at the counter, placing the afternoon’s freshly washed eggs into cartons. She’d been raising a variety of different hens ever since she was a girl, and she now had a flock of birds that were not only good layers but also produced a beautiful array of different-colored eggs, from creamy white to blue, green, speckled and even a coppery brown. She’d found that eggs sold best when arranged with complementary colors in the cartons—copper and dark green together, for example, or pale blue, mint-green and brown-speckled eggs in another carton.
Sarai looked out the kitchen window, and she spotted their elderly neighbor, Moe, on his way over. He walked with a stick, his wiry white hair jutting out from under his hat. A young man followed a few paces behind, and Sarai paused in her work and squinted.
“Moe is on his way over,” Sarai said. “He’s almost at the garden.”
“Oh, good,” Mammi Ellen replied, and her fingers fluttered up to her hair, tucking a couple of invisible strands back under her neat kapp. “I’d asked him to come for some pie this afternoon.”
Mammi Ellen and Moe made their own plans, and as often as not, Sarai would return from an errand to find the couple sitting in the kitchen together, chatting happily about old times or working on some chore together—two being much more efficient than one. A few times, Sarai had gone out for the day and come home to find large chores completed by the two old people together. On their own, they struggled. But together, they were still able to get things done. That had been the beginning of Sarai’s idea of how to make sure her grandmother would be cared for, happy and not even the faintest bit lonely if Sarai spread her wings.
“He’s got someone with him today,” Sarai replied, watching the old man and the younger one loping along beside to catch up. He was tall and had broad shoulders, but his head was down so she couldn’t see his face under the brim of his straw hat.
“That would be Arden,” Mammi said.
Sarai leaned closer to the window to get a better look. Moe’s grandson Arden had moved from the community of Redemption, Pennsylvania, to Ohio a few years ago with his family. The last time she’d seen Arden, he was about eighteen and breaking hearts all over the community. He’d always been too handsome for his own good...or the good of half the girls his age.
But Arden wasn’t her worry, and Sarai had bigger eggs to fry, as she liked to say.
“I don’t know why you and Moe don’t get married,” Sarai said, casting her grandmother a smile. “You get along so well.”
“Friends tend to get along,” Mammi Ellen said with a chuckle. “Are you still on that idea, Sarai? I’m not looking to get married again, dear. I have great-grandchildren, white hair and arthritis. I’ve lived my life. If you want to worry about a wedding, make it your own.”
“Setting people up is a far sight easier than finding a husband myself,” Sarai replied. “Besides, Adel Knussli is keeping me in mind for her matchmaking efforts. So you don’t need to worry about me.”
And Shipshewana would have all sorts of people she’d never met.
“Keeping you in mind is different than rolling up her sleeves and making you her central effort,” her grandmother replied. “You might think about asking Adel to do just that. You’re a beautiful girl, you’re smart, and you have good character. You’ll make any man a lovely wife.”
“Any man...” Sarai shook her head. “He’ll have to be the right one, Mammi.”
Because Sarai had a theory—and it was only a theory—but she didn’t want to waste fifty to seventy years of her life with a man who Gott hadn’t created for her especially. There were couples who seemed to be so perfectly matched that she had no doubt that Gott had placed them together like two puzzle pieces. And then there were others who were less well matched and much less happy together. If Sarai was going to vow the rest of her life to a man, then she wanted Gott’s perfect will—the one right man. And who knew where Gott had him waiting?
“There is such a thing as being too careful, Sarai,” Mammi Ellen said.
“Aha!” Sarai said with a laugh. “I could say the same to you, Mammi. My husband will come along in due time, but I really think there is something special there between you and Moe. My mamm agrees with me, you know. So it isn’t only me who sees it.”
“Oh, Sarai,” she said and chuckled.
“You have lots of life left in you,
“I can be positively delightful without marrying him,” her grandmother replied. “And why do you assume that he wants anything else from me besides a piece of pie and a listening ear?”
A knock spared Sarai from having to answer, and she headed over to open the door. Moe stood there on the porch, a smile on his lined face and his grandson standing behind him. Arden had matured, deepened. Those boyish good looks had solidified into a taller, broader, more chiseled man. His face was cleanly shaved along a strong jawline, and his dark, wavy hair poked out from under his hat—time for a trim. Sarai met his direct brown gaze, and he gave her a nod.
Goose bumps ran up her arms. He’d always been a young man who had that effect, and he’d spent his Rumspringa breaking hearts. But that was a long time ago, and Sarai was a grown woman now. There would be no games with the likes of Arden Stoltzfus.
“Hello, Sarai,” Moe said with a smile. “You remember my grandson, I’m sure. He’s come by for a visit.”
Arden shot a veiled look at his grandfather, but he recovered quickly and smiled at Sarai.
“It’s been a while,” Arden said.
“Yah. A few years,” she agreed. “Come on in.”
The men entered, and Moe ambled directly to his usual spot at the kitchen table. Mammi Ellen shot him a smile and brought a freshly baked cherry pie to the table.
“It looks wonderful, Ellen,” Moe said. “You make a fine pie. I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”
“Oh, you’re quite the sweet-talker, Moe,” Mammi Ellen said with a chuckle. “But it helps to have someone to bake for, for sure and certain. Sarai and I just can’t eat all the baking ourselves...”
The older folks settled into a chat, and Mammi put a pile of four plates on the table and started dishing a piece for Moe. When everyone had a slice, Mammi Ellen and Moe continued their conversation, and Sarai and Arden stood by the far kitchen window, their plates balanced in their hands.
“So what really brings you back?” Sarai asked.
“What do you mean?” Arden asked. He took a bite of pie. “Wow. This is really good. Dawdie was right.”
“Don’t you try and change the subject,” Sarai replied. “I saw the look you gave him when he said you were here for a visit. You are not here for a visit—that was plain.”
And it likely wasn’t her business, either, but Sarai looked up and met his gaze all the same. “Are you moving back or something?”
Arden shook his head and lowered his voice. “I’m trying to convince my grandfather to move to Ohio to be with the rest of the family.”
“Move?” Sarai frowned. “But he’s so happy here.”
“He’s too old to take care of things on his own,” Arden said.
“Oh, that’s silly,” Sarai said. “He knows where to come for pie, and he’s very spry for his age.”
“He got a bad cold this last spring,” Arden said.
“I know. We helped care for him.”
It had been tough for the old man. His cough lasted weeks, but they’d made him chicken soup and insisted he stay inside next to the woodstove. Sarai had changed all his linens every three days and washed everything up for him. It had been a lot of work until one of Moe’s married granddaughters arrived to take over. But that was what neighbors did. Besides, Moe was special.
“We appreciate all you did to help him when he was ill,” Arden said, his voice firm. “But it should be family doing it, and we shouldn’t have to take a bus in order to do our duty by our grandfather, either.”
“It was your sister who did it,” Sarai countered.
“Last time,” he agreed. “And this time—I’m here.”
His words were strong, and she felt the line being drawn. He was here for his grandfather on family business, and Sarai was not family. She looked back to the kitchen table, where the old people sat eating together. Mammi was in the middle of a story, and Moe chuckled along as she talked.
“If you treat him like he’s old, he’ll feel old,” Sarai said, turning back to Arden. “Don’t you see how happy he is with Mammi Ellen?”
“Yah. Of course,” he replied.
“I think the two of them should get married,” she said, and Arden coughed and sputtered, and his face went red. “Sorry...”
She winced and waited while he coughed a few times.
“Are you all right?” Mammi Ellen asked from the table. She rose to her feet. “Let me get you some water, Arden.”
Mammi went to the sink for a glass of water, and Arden accepted it with a strained smile of thanks. He drained the glass of water and cleared his throat another couple of times as Mammi went back to the table.
Arden lowered his voice. “You want to set up our grandparents?”
“It’s a good idea,” Sarai said. “They make each other happy. They’ve been good friends for years, and your dawdie comes over here every day for a piece of pie or a bowl of soup or sometimes just a cup of coffee. They always find something to chat about, and they’re happier together.”
“He’s eighty-two,” Arden said flatly.
“And she’s seventy-eight. I don’t see the problem,” Sarai replied. “They’re adults.”
“I’ve been asked by my father and my uncles to come bring Dawdie home,” Arden replied.
Yes, his male relatives’ authority was all on his side, but Sarai saw something none of the rest saw: the way Moe and Ellen lit up when they were in the same room together. They cared deeply for each other, and Sarai thought their friendship was particularly beautiful. She took another bite of pie and chewed thoughtfully.
“It would be easier for both of them if they lived together and cared for each other,” Sarai said, spearing the last bite onto her fork. “And they can’t do that if they aren’t married. But just look at them...”
Mammi Ellen was leaning forward, nodding and listening to Moe talk about something that Sarai couldn’t make out. The happiness at being together was evident—to her, at least.
“You live with your grandmother, though,” Arden countered.
“I do,” she agreed. “But I won’t always.”
Who knew what was waiting for Sarai around the corner?
“Is someone courting you?” Arden asked.
“That’s a brazen question.” It was also a question that stung a little bit.
“I was just...” His face colored. “Sorry, I was curious. I thought someone would be... I mean...”
His embarrassment softened her. “No, I don’t have anyone special at the moment, not that it’s your business. But we do have a quality matchmaker here in Redemption, and as my mammi points out, I’ve got some marriageable qualities. So I don’t think it’s being too prideful to expect to find a husband.”
Besides, Sarai had faith that Gott would bring the right man along...hopefully soon, and very possibly in Shipshewana.
“You’ll have no problem at all.” Arden shot her a lopsided smile that made her breath catch. He’d always been a charmer.
Arden had also always irritated her. While the other girls in Redemption swooned at his smiles and got their hearts broken by this too-smooth, too-handsome man, Sarai had seen him for what he was—selfish. He didn’t care about the girls he disappointed. It was a game for him, and she refused to ever fall for the likes of Arden Stoltzfus. And now he’d be calling the shots for his Dawdie Moe. It wasn’t right. He had no sensitivity to hearts and feelings.
“But it’s not going to work to set up our grandparents,” Arden said, turning back. “Dawdie has got to come back with me to Ohio. There’s no way around it.”
No way, indeed. Moe might be elderly, but he was a man who could make his own choices.
“I disagree,” Sarai said simply.
“You...can’t. This is from his family,” Arden said.
“My opinion might not mean a thing when it comes down to it,” she replied with a shrug, “but I disagree with you. You were always a little too focused on yourself, and you never did look too long at the people around you. Your Dawdie Moe and my Mammi Ellen have a special friendship, and their happiness together matters, too. So you go right ahead and do what you have to. I’m determined to see those two married.”
