Free The Matchmaker by Sarah Price Page A

came to Emma, he had never spoken so harshly to her. She felt tears stinging the corner of her eyes, but blinking rapidly, she willed them away. When she had control of her emotions, she forced a smile and turned back tolook at him. “If I had hopes of Paul with Hannah, that is not the motivation, I can assure you,” she finally said. “I only hoped to keep Hannah from making too rapid a decision, Gideon, and an unwise one at that.”
    To her surprise, Gideon made a groaning noise, one that spoke of vexation and frustration. He spun around on his heels. “Please beg forgiveness of my departure from your daed ,” he snapped. “I have suddenly lost my appetite for conversation, never mind fellowship over a meal.” Without another word, he stormed out of the kitchen. Within minutes Emma heard the familiar clip-clop of horse hooves and the gentle humming of buggy wheels, an indication that Gideon had left to return home.

Chapter Five
    T HE TWO YOUNG Amish friends were walking at a brisk pace down the street, Emma in a freshly laundered and crisply ironed pale green dress, which contrasted sharply against Hannah’s faded pink one with the torn hem and the hole in her skirt. Both were carrying a basket filled to the rim with fresh vegetables and canned fruit. Emma smiled as they walked toward the row of ranch houses along the main thoroughfare, her face turned toward the sun as if drinking in the wholesome goodness that shone down upon them. Besides quilting and entertaining visitors, there was nothing Emma enjoyed more than her weekly visits on Thursday to the elderly widows who lived near her home. That pleasure was now showing on her face. As for Hannah, she was happy to spend time with her good friend Emma.
    While most of the widows and widowers lived with their grown kinner on the family farms, usually in the grossdaddihaus , there were just as many of them, mostly women, who lived in the smaller portion of the more contemporary homes scattered in the community, houses that were occupied by their older children who worked at market or at local stores. Several years back Emma had taken it upon herself tovisit with these elderly women each and every week. Anna had often accompanied her, but today it was Hannah who walked beside her.
    “It’s so nice of you to visit with the widows,” Hannah gushed. “I’m sure they truly appreciate it.”
    Emma glanced at Hannah. “I suppose I appreciate the visit as much as they do.” She sighed after she spoke and gestured toward the first house so that Hannah knew to cross the street with her. “It’s right rewarding to bring sunshine into their lives, I reckon. And, in turn, they give it back tenfold.” It was indeed something that Emma truly enjoyed doing for her community, but little did people know that she found as much enjoyment in the deed as the recipients. For Emma, this was a way to stay abreast of what was happening in the g’may , who was getting married and who was not, who was expecting a new boppli , who was moving and where to . . . all little tidbits of information that she could not possibly glean while staying home, taking care of her daed.
    Their first visit was to Mary Yoder, an older woman who could not walk very well without the help of a cane. Way back when Mary had been considered a pillar of strength in the community. All the women had known her quite well and she too knew most of them, for Mary had been the only midwife within a thirty-mile radius. There was scarcely a day when her services were not required to assist in childbirth, for which Englische doctors were rarely consulted. Mary had a Mennonite acquaintance, John Bucher, a pious and righteous man who drove her at any time of the day or night, as emergencies arose. She was the only Amish woman in the g’may authorized by Bishop Zook to keep a telephone in her kitchen, but only for such emergencies.
    Now these days were long gone, and Mary was no longerhelping anyone in her community. But