“I’m not easy to match, and I know it.

  “My sister is a matchmaker and even she had trouble with me. Maybe it’s why I want to drag some Englishers into our midst.”

  Mose’s stomach dropped.

  “T-to marry?” he asked.

  “No!” Naomi rolled her eyes. “But next to a bunch of Englishers, I’m downright safe, you know?”

  “Yah.” He wasn’t so fortunate, though. Standing him next to Englishers wouldn’t fix what made him different.

  “I’m joking, of course. I don’t think I’m actually so different from the other women—I just don’t hide things as well!”

  “That’s...a blessing,” he said. At least she was honest.

  “We’re polar opposites, you and me, Mose. I talk too fast, and you aren’t able to say everything in your head.”

  Mose met her gaze. “It’s h-hard being d-d-different.”

  “Amen to that,” she murmured, then she smiled. “But a good friend helps.”

  Yah, a good friend did help. With Naomi and her wild hair and even wilder way of thinking, he didn’t feel so alone—she’d always had that effect on him.

  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

  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

  Montana Twins

  Her Cowboy’s Twin Blessings

  Her Twins’ Cowboy Dad

  A Rancher to Remember

  Harlequin Heartwarming

  Amish Country Haven

  A Deputy in Amish Country

  Visit the Author Profile page at LoveInspired.com for more titles.

  THE AMISH MATCHMAKING DILEMMA

  Patricia Johns

  The words of a man’s mouth are as deep waters, and the wellspring of wisdom as a flowing brook.

  —Proverbs 18:4

  To my husband and son.

  You are my reason for everything. I love you!

  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

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  Excerpt from Trusting Her Amish Heart by Cathy Liggett

  Chapter One

  “We have a wonderful selection of Amish treats for you to sample.” Naomi Peachy gestured to the assortment awaiting the Englisher tourists on the wooden kitchen table. “We have four different pies—peach, oatmeal molasses, shoofly pie and lemon meringue. There are a variety of cookies made by local women as well. We’re also selling jars of our own jams and jellies, and our always-popular Amish peanut butter. If you haven’t tried it, you’re missing out! It’s very sweet, but an absolute favorite among Amish people, old and young.”

  The kitchen of the Draschel Bed and Breakfast, which was named after Naomi’s sister’s first husband—it was a place with history—was spotless. Not a crumb on a counter, not a dish towel out of place. The solid kitchen table held the baked goods, neat stacks of jam and peanut butter jars, and a pile of plates and forks. Naomi Peachy and Claire Glick ran the establishment together for Naomi’s sister, Adel, who owned it.

  “Oh, and before you leave, we also have some crocheted items for sale in the sitting room,” Claire said. “They’re made by our dear Amish friend Lydia. There are also some knitted scarves and mittens made by Naomi’s own sister Adel. I’ll make sure to show you after you’re finished eating.”

  “Is any of this gluten-free?” one woman asked hopefully.

  “We have one gluten-free pie over on the counter,” Naomi said with a smile. “It’s blueberry—my personal favorite. It was made by a young lady with celiac disease in our community, so you can be sure that it’s well and truly free of gluten. She doesn’t play with such things. And all of our jams, jellies and the Amish peanut butter are naturally gluten-free.”

  The group of Englishers milled around the kitchen, looking in awe at the big black woodstove, the icebox, and the hook where an unlit kerosene lantern hung. Ordinarily, Naomi would put the lantern down on a shelf when they weren’t using it, but the Englisher guests always enjoyed seeing exactly how the hook was used.

  The women gushed over Claire’s three-year-old son, Aaron, who didn’t normally wear his service Sunday best, but he did for the guests to enjoy. He was wearing little broadfall pants, suspenders and a straw hat that was too big but did make him look absolutely adorable. And Aaron thoroughly enjoyed all the attention he got.

  Naomi looked out the window at the wagon that had brought their guests. It was a warm day in early September, and she’d been anxiously awaiting the guests today for one reason—the driver. She and Mose Klassen had been neighbors and best friends as children. His family had since moved away from Pennsylvania and settled in Ohio, but Mose had recently returned and Naomi’s matchmaker sister was helping him to find a good wife from their community.

  Adel felt she owed some of the women here in Redemption after she’d married her first matchmaking client herself, and she’d vowed that she’d find good husbands for all of the women she’d considered as possible matches for her own husband, Jake. Naomi told her over and over again that no one held her marriage to Jake against her, but Adel held to her own code.

  Mose was a new matchmaking client for Adel, and he’d be doing the driving for the next couple of weeks to help out his uncle, who was recovering from gallbladder surgery. But the main reason for his visit was to have a marriage arranged for him, and Naomi was almost certain that he’d find himself married to one of Adel’s single women. But Mose had a peculiar problem, and Adel had asked for Naomi’s help in getting him ready for introductions.

  Naomi squinted at the broad-shouldered, strong man standing next to the horses. It was hard to see the boy from her memories in the tall man outside, but it would be him. He was clean-shaven, as were all the single Amish men, and when he glanced toward the house, his expression was guarded. Was Mose not going to come inside?

  He was shy—Adel had told her that much. He’d been shy when they were children, too. She’d always had to be the one to draw him out of his shell, but she’d been able to do it. It looked like she’d have go break the ice, herself.

  Naomi pushed open the side door and headed outside. Mose looked up as she approached, and he blinked when he saw her, then his cheeks pinked.

  “Mose!” she said with a smile. “Do you recognize me?”

  “Yah.” He dropped his gaze. Well, she wouldn’t have recognized him in a lineup of farmers, not after all this time. He’d come a long way from the skinny, freckled boy she’d counted as her very best friend.

  “You don’t recognize me,” she countered with a laugh. “All that’s left of the ten-year-old me are the flaming red curls.”

  “They’re...they’re...they’re...” His face grew redder. “Un...un—” He stopped, pressed his lips together.

  “My hair is unique?” she asked, finishing the word for him.

  “Yah.”

  There was that. She used to be a stick-thin girl with wild curls that refused to stay neatly in a braid, and now she was an ample woman in her thirties with those same wild curls that still had a way of working themselves free of her kapp. But back then she’d been able to get Mose talking past his stutter, and Adel was counting on her being able to do the same thing again.

  “You should come inside,” Naomi said. “There’s pie and cookies, and I can get you a sandwich if you’re hungrier than that. Come in.”

  Mose shook his head. He pulled his hat off, scrubbed a hand through his hair and put it back on again. “No, thank...thank...” He stopped, and this time his jaw clenched.

  Her heart went out to him. He couldn’t say what he wanted to say, and even though she understood what he was getting at, she couldn’t imagine having her words tied up inside of her like that.

  “You still have your stutter,” she said.

  He just shrugged.

  “Adel said that she thought if you could practice talking more, it might help so that she can do some formal introductions for you,” Naomi said, watching his face. “She said you agreed—that you’d practice talking more...with me. You used to talk more easily with me, if I remember right. Your stutter even got a bit better.”

  “Yah.” It seemed to be the one word he could get out easily without the stutter.

  “We do have a good number of quality single women in Redemption, you know,” she said with a smile.

  His answer
was a rueful smile.

  “We had another boy here in the community with a stutter,” Naomi went on. “And I just happened to be free when they needed someone to help him practice talking and reading, and those sorts of things. So I understand the situation...a little, at least.”

  Mose nodded. “That’s...that’s...that’s helpful.”

  “You’re extra nervous right now,” she said. “Because you haven’t seen me in ages, and here I am accosting you like some stranger.” She shot him a grin.

  “M-m-maybe.” He returned her smile, though.

  “And if I recall, when we were kinner, I chattered at you nonstop, and you just trailed along after me. I’m not sure I was a very good friend,” she said.

  “Yah, you were,” he said, and his voice was low and warm—and it came out without a single halt. She felt her own cheeks suddenly heat.

  “Well, I’m glad of that,” she said. “I know it’s hard talking to someone you haven’t seen in so long, but I’m no one to worry about. I’m running my sister’s bed-and-breakfast now that she’s married to Jacob Knussli. Did you hear about him?”

  “No,” Mose said. “Wait...” He frowned. “Yah. He...he...he...” He closed his eyes and then opened them. “He jumped the...the...” He pressed his lips together again, and this time she waited for him to get the last word out. “...fence.”

  “Yah, he jumped the fence,” she replied. “And his daet passed away before he ever came back, and then his uncle finally passed, too, leaving the farm to him, but only if he was married within six months of his uncle’s passing.”

  Mose’s eyebrows climbed.

  “Yah. So he had to find a wife, and guess who was his matchmaker?”

  “A-Adel?” Mose said.

  “Yah, and that worked better than anyone expected, considering she’s now Adel Knussli.”

  But Adel had also introduced him to several women in the community who had gotten their hopes up before she and Jake realized they had eyes only for each other. So Adel was determined to make it up to them.

  Mose grinned, and the tension seemed to be seeping out of him, his jaw relaxing, the muscles around his eyes softening, too.

  “When...was this?” he asked haltingly.

  “Last summer,” she replied. Her sister was now expecting her first baby.

  “That’s...that’s...that’s...” He pressed his lips together again and sucked in a breath. “Good.”

  “She’s afraid she looks like a bad matchmaker now that she married her very first client,” Naomi said. “So she’s going to have to repair her professional reputation by finding you a good wife.”

  Mose smiled faintly. “I’m... I’m... I’m...” He stopped.

  Naomi waited. He had more to say, and she’d let him get it out.

  “I’m...hard...to...match.” He said the words slowly and distinctly. Adel had mentioned that his stutter was going to be a problem. How could a man find a wife if he couldn’t even speak his mind?

  Naomi looked at his face for a moment. “How frustrating is that?”

  “Very,” he murmured.

  “You have a bucketful more to say, don’t you?”

  Mose met her gaze mutely, but she could see the pent-up emotion swimming around those dark eyes.

  “And you stop short, because it’s all that will come out, and you only have so much time because the conversation keeps going, and you never get to say it all...probably not even a fraction of it,” she said.

  “Yah.” He smiled faintly.

  “And I’m just a chattering jay all the time.” She put her hands on her ample hips. “All right. I have a deal for you.”

  “Oh?” Mose eyed her warily.

  “With me, you’re going to say your piece,” she said.

  “I...I...I...can’t.”

  “It’s just a matter of time,” she replied. “I’ll stop nattering on, and you’ll take as long as it takes to say it.”

  “No.” He looked away again, and color was back in his face. It obviously embarrassed him to think of talking that much, but what was Naomi supposed to do, just keep talking at him?

  “I know from what we learned with the teenager I was helping with that once someone is a teen or an adult, the stuttering isn’t going away. It’s a fact. It’s something you’ll have to live with. Am I right?”

  “Yah.”

  “Well, then stop worrying about it,” Naomi said. “I will never expect you to speak to me without a stutter. But we can practice enough to get your thoughts out in spite of it. Does that sound fair?”

  Mose frowned slightly. “Yah.”

  “Good.” She smiled up at him. “Because I’m looking forward to catching up with you, and hearing what your family has been up to since you moved away. How long are you driving the wagon for your uncle?”

  “Two... Two...” He swallowed. “Two weeks.”

  She nodded. “It’ll be nice to see more of you.”

  He smiled in return, this time his dark gaze catching hers. “Tell me...about you.”

  “Me?” Naomi shrugged. “I’m not married yet—that’s the big drama, if you ask my family. Even with a matchmaker for a sister, I’m single as the day I was born.”

  Mose smirked. “Me...me...me, too.”

  “And you don’t have to worry about me trying to marry you,” she said, giving him a teasing smile. “You’re looking for a wife, and I respect that. Matchmaking has worked well for a lot of different people, but I don’t want to try it again.”

  “Klaus,” he said.

  Her face heated at the memory. Mose had a second cousin, Klaus, from Ohio who was looking for a wife just as Mose was. He’d come to Adel, too, and Adel was certain that she’d found Naomi her husband. Naomi and Klaus had written letters back and forth a few times, and the arranged marriage was almost set. Everything was ready to go until he and Naomi had their first meeting. She’d never seen a man change so quickly. He’d nearly run out the door.

  No, matchmaking was not her solution. She’d be courted the proper way or not at all. Her heart couldn’t take any more embarrassing rejection like she’d just experienced.

  “Yah, Klaus,” she said. “I thought I was going to be your relative, Mose. But it didn’t work out. And that’s okay. My sister still found him someone.”

  “I’m... I’m...sorry.” Mose winced. “He’s a...a...” He pressed his lips together.

  “It’s okay—” She didn’t need the sympathy. It had been embarrassing and it was now over.

  Mose put a hand on her arm and fixed her with a determined look. “...a...fool!” he finally said.

  “Oh.” Naomi smiled, appreciating him siding with her. “Regardless, that was tough for me, and I’m still a little rattled from the experience. So I’ll help Adel get you matched up to some very nice woman, and then maybe I’ll be braver to try again, myself. We’ll see.”

  “F-fair.”

  They were silent for a moment, and Naomi wondered what other people said about her in Mose’s extended family. And what had it been about her that had turned Klaus away? Was it her strong personality? Her unruly hair? Her full figure? Or was it hearing her talk? She’d toned herself down a lot in those letters, she had to admit. Was her true, feisty personality really that off-putting? What had Klaus seen that made him run like that? She still didn’t know. Maybe she’d get brave enough to ask Mose one of these days.

  “Yah, well, like I said, I’m running the bed-and-breakfast for Adel now,” Naomi went on. “And I’m enjoying it. Claire and I are determined to grow this place. My sister started the lunches and pie-tasting trips here. Claire does basket weaving, and she’s very good. We’re starting up some classes for local Englishers in basket weaving, but I think we can do more than that.”

  “M-m-more?” Mose frowned.

  He was reacting like the rest of the community did, and she felt a little better getting onto more familiar footing. She knew how to put her back up, at least.

  “Oh, you’re disagreeing with me already, aren’t you?” she said with a rueful smile.

  “No... No...”

  “Yah, you are. Don’t mince words with me, Mose,” she replied good-naturedly. He didn’t answer, but he did cross his arms over his chest, fixing his gaze on her face as she continued. “Anyway, I think we can do more. The fact is, we aren’t going to make an extra dime from the Amish community. People here have homes. A few travel, yah, and they might stay with us, but we’ll never keep a business afloat by trying to convince more Amish travelers to stay here. It’s about the Englishers. We need them, and I have some ideas on how to attract their business by including them in some of our community activities.”