A Groom For Ruby. Emma Miller

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СКАЧАТЬ his feet. “I’ll come back another time when—”

      “Who are those flowers for?” Ruby asked. “Did you bring them for Sara?”

      “Ne, not Sara.” Joseph’s face grew hot. He tried to say “I brought them for you,” but again the words stuck in his throat. Dumbly, he held them out to her. Several of the asters in the bouquet had broken stems and they hung down awkwardly. It took every ounce of his courage not to turn and run.

      She scrambled to her feet, her smile as sweet as sunrise on a winter day, her beautiful eyes sparkling with pleasure. “Danki,” she said as she reached for the bouquet. “I love flowers. Nobody ever brought me flowers before.” She clutched them to her. “I think they’re wonderful.”

      For a long moment, they stood staring at each other. Ruby’s hair tumbled down around her shoulders, still damp from the washing, the thick locks gleaming in the sunlight. Her hair looked so soft that he wanted to touch it, to feel the curls spring between his fingers.

      Joseph stepped back another step and sucked in a breath of air. They were practically strangers. He shouldn’t be here with her without a chaperone. He shouldn’t be looking at her unbound hair. It was scandalous. If anyone found out, there would be talk. He couldn’t do that to Ruby. “I g-guess I should go,” he blurted. “I shouldn’t... We shouldn’t—”

      “Ne,” she said. “Don’t go yet. Wait here. No, sit there.” She waved toward the wooden swing. It was fashioned of cedar, suspended on a sturdy frame and shaded by a latticework canopy. “Where it’s cooler. Wait there. I’ll be right back.” She ran several yards, then turned and ran back. “Stay right there,” she repeated before grabbing up everything in the blanket and dashing around the house.

      Stunned, Joseph did as she said. Truthfully, it was good to get off his feet and when he gave a small push, the motion of the swing eased the tension in his neck and shoulders. What had he been thinking to come here this afternoon? To bring flowers for Ruby? But he’d had to come. He couldn’t get her off his mind. But he’d never expected her to be so sweet. He closed his eyes and thought about how pretty her unbound hair was.

      * * *

      Ruby slammed the kitchen door shut behind her. “Ya!” she exclaimed joyfully. “Ya!” Laughing, she spun around in a circle and buried her face in the flowers. Joseph had come back! She’d been certain that knocking him nearly senseless and sending him to the hospital had ruined any chance she might have had of attracting the respectable young mason. But, in spite of her clumsiness, he’d returned and brought her flowers. It was almost too good to be true. She couldn’t wait to tell her mother.

      But Joseph had caught her in the yard, sprawled out on a blanket with her hair wet and hanging instead of being decently covered with her kapp, she reminded herself. He’d been shocked. Probably he’d come in search of one of the other girls and only given her the flowers to be kind. But he was kind. And not only good-looking, but sweet natured and clearly in search of a wife. She didn’t dare let herself hope that he might choose her, but neither could she throw away any opportunity she might have.

      Her mother’s words of advice came to her as clearly as if her mommi were here in this room with her. You will find someone who will see your inner beauty, Ruby. And he will be the one who deserves you.

      Coming to Sara Yoder’s and asking the matchmaker to find her a husband had been an act of desperation. Her parents had believed that the only way for her to find someone was to go to a place where no one knew her. And now Joseph had fallen into her lap. Or, rather, she’d fallen into his. She couldn’t let him slip through her fingers. He might not be someone that she wanted to marry, but she couldn’t know that until they were better acquainted.

      Dropping the flowers into the sink, she searched for a container to put them in. Spying an old blue-and-white-speckled bowl and pitcher on a table in the adjoining room, she snatched up the pitcher, dumped the flowers in and filled the pitcher half-full of water. She left the arrangement on the counter and ran upstairs to her bedroom to make herself decent.

      Grabbing a brush, she raked it though her damp hair, twisted the mass into a knot and pinned it securely at the back of her head. She snatched up her kapp and took the stairs to the first floor two at a time. What if Joseph hadn’t stayed in the yard? What if he’d examined the book she’d been reading and discovered that it was one of Sara’s romance novels? Would he think she was flighty?

      Breathlessly, she filled glasses with ice and lemonade and hurried back outside. “Let him still be here,” she whispered. “Please let him be here.” She felt as though she’d swallowed a double handful of goose feathers. She liked Joseph; she really did. And she wanted him to like her. She stopped short, seeing the empty swing. Her heart sank and her knees went weak.

      And then she saw him on his knees beside the fishpond. “Joseph!” she called too loudly. She gave him her best smile as she hurried toward him.

      “Ruby.” He rose and stepped back from the lip of the pool. “Her fish are getting big,” he said. “I saw an orange-and-black one.” Joseph’s hat was crooked, and she could see that it was too tight due to the bulky bandage.

      “I brought you a drink,” she said. “It’s hot out here. I hope you like lemonade.”

      Joseph nodded. “Ya, I do.” His lips curved in a tentative smile.

      She’d been with him all evening, here at the house and at the hospital, but she hadn’t really gotten a good look at him. She’d remembered his amazing eyes, but memory wasn’t as good as looking at him here in full daylight. They were as blue as cornflowers, intelligent, and they inspired trust. They were Deitsch blue eyes that seemed lit from within. He wasn’t a huge man, but neither was he small. He was exactly the right size, she decided, tall enough without being gangly, and broad at the shoulders without appearing muscle-bound. Joseph’s nose was straight and well formed, and he had a smattering of freckles across his rosy cheeks.

      Was this the man her mother promised her would come?

      Joseph reached for the glass.

      Suddenly, she was aware that she’d been staring at him, lost in her own thoughts while he was waiting for his cold drink. She shoved the lemonade at him with too much force. As his hand closed around the glass, ice and liquid splashed across the front of his shirt.

      “Ne!” she protested. “I’m so sorry.”

      Joseph looked down at his shirt and laughed. “That’s one way to cool me off.”

      “It’s all my fault,” she said. “I’m such a klutz.”

      “My fault. I was looking at you and not the glass.”

      Ruby shook her head. She felt sick. “You might as well know I always trip or drop or knock over things. I always have. When I was in school, the teacher called me stumble-bumble. I never got to write on the blackboard because I either snapped off the chalk or dropped the eraser and then kicked it when I leaned over to pick it up or—” She gestured, showing him the hopelessness of the situation.

      “Yeah, well...did you ever get up in front of the whole school and the parents and...and...not be able to say your own name?” Joseph asked.

      “You didn’t,” she exclaimed.

      “I...I did.” He paused and then went on. “It was our Christmas party. I was supposed to recite a poem. It was short, СКАЧАТЬ