An Unlikely Amish Match. Vannetta Chapman

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      The following Thursday, Micah had finished shoeing a dappled gray mare under the watchful gaze of Thomas. Then the bishop had been called off to visit with one of the old-timers who had taken a turn for the worse, and before Micah knew it, he was being babysat by Susannah.

      “I can take the man’s money and put it in the box.”

      “What man?”

      “The man who owns the mare.”

      “Yes, but you don’t even know the man’s name. Mr. Hochstettler has been bringing his horses here since I was a kind. Dat likes for our customers to have personal service.”

      “They’re Amish. Where else are they going to go to have their horses cared for?”

      “Not the point, according to Dat. The point is that we treat every customer as if we value their business—which we do.”

      “Fine. I didn’t remember the man’s name, but you could tell me that and leave.”

      “Do you know the mare’s name?”

      “Nein and what difference does that make? Are you going to tell me that the mare needs to feel valued, too?”

      “Of course she needs to be valued. Have you ever owned a mare?”

      “Never needed to. I had my parents’ buggy horses to use in Maine, and I have my grandparents’ here.”

      “But one day you’ll be a man with your own family and your own horses.” Susannah had been grooming the mare, which definitely did not fall under the services of shoeing a horse in Micah’s opinion. She stopped what she was doing and pointed the brush at him. “When you have your own horses, you’ll understand why it’s important to appreciate them and treat them with respect.”

      Micah rolled his eyes and then started laughing. He couldn’t help it.

      “What?”

      “Nothing.”

      “Just say it.”

      “You couldn’t even see over that horse if you weren’t standing on a crate, and yet you’re lecturing me.”

      “What does being short have to do with anything?”

      Micah raised his hands in surrender, but he continued to laugh. Most days Susannah aggravated him, especially when she reminded him of his nagging sisters. But then, other times, he caught a glint of mischievousness in her eyes, and he wondered what else was going on underneath her perfectly starched kapp.

      “Say, I’m thinking about asking Caroline Byers to this weekend’s spring festival in town. What do you think?”

      “Terrible idea.” Susannah resumed brushing the mare, but much more vigorously.

      “Why’s it terrible?”

      Now her lips were forming a tight, straight line, as if they’d been glued together. He knew that expression well enough.

      “Just say it. What’s the problem?”

      “She’s too young for you, that’s what!” Susannah brushed the mare so vigorously that it turned its large muzzle toward her. “Sorry, Smokey.”

      “Smokey?”

      “That’s her name. If you’d bothered to find out, you would know that.”

      “You seem awfully cranky all of a sudden.”

      “I’m not cranky!” She jumped off the crate, cleaned the horse brush with a metal tool and slammed it onto the tool shelf. Next she picked up the currying comb, which looked somewhat dangerous the way she was brandishing it in his direction. “Pick a girl your age, Micah.”

      “Wow. Okay. Well, I hadn’t thought of it that way, but I guess I see your point. How about Betty Gleich?”

      Susannah closed her eyes as if praying for patience and shook her head so hard he feared her kapp would pop off.

      “What’s wrong with Betty? I know for a fact she’s over twenty-one.”

      “She’s twenty-two, and she just went through a rather rough breakup.”

      “What does that have to do with me?”

      “Did you not say only twenty minutes ago that you only had—and I quote—one hundred and seventy days left in this awful place?”

      “Sounds like something I might have said.”

      “Obviously you hate it here.”

      “You don’t understand. If you’d been to Maine, then you’d appreciate how much more beautiful it is than your much-loved Indiana. If you could experience the hunting, the fishing, the wildness of the place. It’s just—”

      “You’d be in your precious Maine right this minute if you hadn’t been banished.”

      “Ouch.”

      “Again—your word, not mine.”

      “Fine.” He named off four other perfectly eligible girls, all of whom Susannah disapproved of him dating for the most ridiculous reasons and sometimes for no reason she’d share at all.

      His mounting frustration was threatening to get the better of him. He tried to mentally order himself to calm down, but the way Susannah was frowning at him was not helping matters. “What is your problem?”

      “My problem?”

      “You know, I don’t need your permission to date someone, but now I’m curious. What’s your beef?”

      “Beef?”

      “Apparently I’m not gut enough for any of the gals in your district.”

      “It’s not a question of whether you’re gut enough for them.”

      “Then what?”

      “You’re leaving, that’s what. You’re leaving, and they’ll get attached to you, and then it will hurt them when you go.”

      “I’m not proposing to them, Susannah. I’m asking them out on a buggy ride.”

      “One thing leads to the other.”

      Micah threw up his hands and walked out of the farrier shop. The sky was dark and brooding, a perfect reflection of his mood. Well, Susannah Beiler was not the boss of him. He could ask out whomever he liked.

      He stomped back in to tell her that and caught her with her cheek pressed СКАЧАТЬ