Adel frowned. “He ogles women? I didn’t see that.”

  This might change things. Had she missed out on some glaring character flaws, blinded by her own softening feelings for the man?

  “Adel, he doesn’t look at other women in the plural,” Naomi said, casting her a smile. “He looks at you.”

  “Me?” Adel shook her head. “I drive him crazy, and he doesn’t like that I’m the one set up as judge over him in finding him a wife.”

  “All of that might be true,” Naomi replied. “But he looks at you like... He looks at you the way a man working in the sun all day looks at a tall glass of water.”

  A smile turned up her sister’s lips, and Naomi’s eyes sparkled with repressed laughter.

  Adel blinked at her sister. “That’s not true.”

  “You think I’d pass up on a hand-delivered husband complete with a paid-off farm for nothing?” Naomi shook her head. “You might not be interested in him, Adel, but I’m not tying myself for life to a man who looks at my sister like that.”

  “I’m sorry, if I—” Adel started.

  “Adel, I’m not upset,” Naomi said. “I honestly think you should consider him for yourself.”

  That was easy enough for her sister to say. But Adel had no interest in tying herself to a new husband right now, either. She’d gone five years in this new path of hers that fulfilled her in this strange, unexpected way, and simply giving it up because a man came along who was handsome and in need of a wife didn’t change anything.

  “Not me,” Adel replied. “But I will find him a good woman. He deserves that much.”

  Naomi nodded. “Do you have anyone in mind?”

  “Verna Kauffman is about the right age, and she’s never been married,” Adel said.

  Naomi was silent.

  “Delia Swarey needs a daet for her four boys,” Adel went on. “They’ve been taking care of things on their own, but they’ll be grown and getting married soon enough. She needs a husband of her own again.”

  “And the younger women?” Naomi asked.

  Adel firmly shook her head. “The thing with the young women is that they have every opportunity to find a boy they know well, and do things the old-fashioned way. They should have that chance to get to know someone, and be courted... Because marriage isn’t easy, and going from a first meeting to man and wife in a matter of a week will not be easy on anyone. That isn’t fair to a girl with her whole life ahead of her.”

  The thought of a girl of eighteen walking into a run-down mess of a house was heartbreaking to even consider. Adel had gotten married that young, but Mark had been prepared. There had been a lovely kitchen waiting for her, all clean and organized by her mother-in-law.

  But nothing was going to be properly ready for this wife, and while a community would pitch in to help get things spruced back up if they found out Jake needed it, that would take time. And it would take a special kind of strength from the woman who stepped into marriage that way.

  Strength, or foolhardiness, Adel wasn’t sure which. It would be a risk, that much she was sure of.

  Adel went back to the stove to check the potatoes, and on her way past the window, she looked outside to see Jake walking back down the drive toward the house. He moved with the easy grace of a man who worked with his hands, and he fiddled with one side of his suspenders as if they weren’t quite comfortable.

  Jacob Knussli was certainly a good-looking man, but he would be a hard one to match if Adel wanted to do the job properly. And she did want to find him the right match. He deserved to be understood, appreciated and loved.

  Just then, Jake lifted his gaze, and he spotted her. She had the urge to jump out of his line of sight, but she stopped herself. She wasn’t some girl watching cute boys. She was his matchmaker, and she’d best act the part, even when she felt least qualified. He didn’t smile, but his expression softened, and he reached up and touched the edge of his hat in a hello.

  Adel felt Naomi’s arm brush against hers as she looked out the window over her shoulder.

  “Yah, that’s the look,” Naomi said with a low laugh, and she carried on to the oven, pulling on oven mitts. “I’d be foolish indeed, Adel.”

  Chapter Four

  Adel and Naomi served the meal—mashed potatoes, chicken legs, coleslaw and brown buttered noodles. She had put a little extra effort into this meal, if she was forced to admit it, but it felt worth the work seeing Jake polish off three full platefuls of food.

  Adel scooped up the last of the mashed potatoes into the spoon and held them invitingly toward Jake.

  “Will you eat the last of them?” she asked.

  “No, no, I couldn’t eat another bite. But I might come finish them up tonight sometime.”

  Adel smiled. “Feel free.”

  “You two really put on a spread,” Jake said. “Your bed-and-breakfast must be popular around here.”

  “We have a steady flow of guests,” Naomi said. “We had some guests cancel at the last minute, though, which meant there was space for you.”

  “So who comes?” he asked.

  “Englishers,” Adel replied. “Mostly. They stay here and see the sights.”

  “Couples?” he asked. “Families?”

  “Some families,” Naomi said, and she took another spoon of coleslaw for herself. “But mostly couples. We’re considered quite a romantic spot.”

  “Are you?” Jake shot Adel a teasing smile. “Should I be surprised? I suppose you are a matchmaker now.”

  Adel stood up and collected the plates. “I run a business. I’m glad if my guests enjoy themselves.”

  “What about the couple who got engaged here?” Naomi said. “Last summer, a young man brought his sweetheart here for a dinner, and right here in this room, he got down on one knee and pulled out a ring. Adel got all teary.”

  “Well, engagements are a beautiful thing,” Adel said.

  “You’re in the right business, Adel,” Jake said with a grin. “Love follows wherever you go. I’m in good hands.”

  Adel carried the plates to the sink. “I do my best.”

  “I’ve been telling Adel we should advertise ourselves as a romantic spot,” Naomi said. “But she won’t do it.”

  “It isn’t proper,” Adel replied. She turned in time to see Naomi mouthing her words back at Jake.

  “Naomi, you aren’t helping,” Adel said, annoyed. “I run a proper Amish place. We serve meals, and we have overnight guests, and we give people a glimpse into our way of life. And we Amish don’t advertise our romance.”

  Jake leaned his elbows on the table and met her gaze. “Well, unless we’re trying to match a couple up. And then, there’s a certain amount of advertising...”

  Adel sighed. He wanted to banter, and this wasn’t helping! He was handsome, and funny, and interesting to talk to, and that was all well and good for the woman he’d marry to enjoy, but Adel didn’t want his direct, warm attention.

  “I think it’s my turn to take care of the horses,” Adel said.

  “Yah, it is,” Naomi replied. “I’ll take care of the kitchen.”

  “Have some pie,” Adel said, casting Jake a smile. “Naomi makes a wonderful peach pie. I think we have some left.”

  Outside, the evening was cooling off, and a grass-scented breeze came in over the field. Adel let herself into the stable and left the door open to let the breeze come inside. She exhaled a sigh. What was it about Jake Knussli that left her feeling so scattered? She didn’t get this way with anyone else. And it wasn’t that Jake was being inappropriate, really. He was just being charming.

  “Why does that bother me so much?” she muttered aloud.

  It threw her off-balance, somehow, that was why. And it wasn’t even his fault!

  The horses were out in the back field. There was grass out there, but she liked to make sure they had extra feed, especially now that Jake’s horse was grazing, too. This was an acreage, not a full farm, so the actual grazing field wasn’t as large as it could be for three horses.

  Adel lifted a bale into a wheelbarrow, and it took her a few attempts to get it inside. A compressed bale of alfalfa hay was incredibly heavy, but she had a few tricks of her own to make the job easier. She started pushing the wheelbarrow toward the door, and the alfalfa tipped heavily to one side.

  “Oh, no,” she muttered, and she stopped, then grabbed the twine to readjust it.

  “You want help?”

  Adel looked up to see Jake standing in the doorway. He looked more impressive, somehow, backlit against the open entry. He was a tall, strong man... When she didn’t immediately answer, he strode over, hoisted the bale up to get it balanced, then lifted the wheelbarrow by the handles.

  “It’s okay,” Adel said, her voice suddenly coming back to her. “I can do it. We’ve been doing the work ourselves for years now.”

  “Come on, Adel,” Jake said with a half smile. “What kind of man would I be watching a woman do the outdoor work while I ate peach pie inside?” He met her gaze, and didn’t release the handles. “A lazy one, that’s what. You can tell prospective matches that I at least know how to take care of men’s work.”

  “I think your farm proves that,” she replied, but she stepped back as he wheeled the hay out the door and toward the gate.

  Adel jogged ahead and opened it, and he carried on through toward the big, iron feeder. This job always took most of Adel’s strength, but he worked easily enough. He hoisted the bale up and over the side of the feeder, then pulled a pocketknife off a loop on his suspender. He popped the twine and the hay sprung free. The horses came ambling over to the new hay, and Jake walked back to the fence next to Adel, and leaned against the wooden rungs.

  Adel looked over her shoulder toward the house. She could see her sister in the kitchen window, washing dishes.

  “Jake, I think we need to talk about boundaries,” Adel said.

  “What kind?” he asked.

  “The kind between a matchmaker and her client,” she replied.

  “Ah.” He raised an eyebrow and waited.

  “It’s just that—” She swallowed. “I’m not your friend, or your schoolmate anymore. Things have changed. A lot has changed since you left. And you seem to be wanting to relate to me as a friend, and I can’t be that right now.”

  “You can’t be my friend.” His tone was low, and he met her gaze easily enough.

  “No.” She straightened her shoulders. “I’m supposed to be your matchmaker, and in that role, I’m not the one you should be chatting with.”

  “So I should be chatting with Naomi?” he asked. He looked back toward the house and waved. Naomi, in the window, waved back.

  “If you want to,” she replied.

  “But not with you.”

  This wasn’t going the way she intended, and she sighed. “Jake, I have limited time to find you a wife, and you’re not cooperating.”

  “I’m being stubbornly personable and helpful come chore time,” he said with a teasing little smile.

  “Jake, cut it out! You know what I’m talking about, and you’re purposefully misunderstanding me!”

  “Maybe I am,” he replied. “But you’re being silly. I’ve known you since we were tiny. We used to stomp in puddles together in grade school. We had fun.”

  “I got into trouble for that,” she said. “It was less fun for me. I’d go home with a filthy dress and my mamm would give me extra chores for being so careless.”

  “But while we were stomping, it was great!” He shot her a grin. “And there was that time we had to memorize that Christmas poem together.”

  “You didn’t do it properly,” she said. “You made us both look bad. I really cared about that Christmas presentation.”

  “I did try.” Jake softened his tone. “I memorized and studied that poem for weeks. But I got nervous in front of people, and I forgot it all.”

  “You should have said that instead of making farm animal noises,” she said. “You were a rebel from childhood, Jake.”

  Jake’s joking disappeared. “I was ten. Ten-year-olds don’t always deal with embarrassment gracefully. I could have run off in humiliation, or I could play it off like I meant to do it. I chose the latter.”

  His expression was serious now, and she felt her own cheeks warm.

  “I didn’t know you were embarrassed,” she said.

  “I’m not so bad in front of people now,” he said. “But I still get a little nervous sometimes. And when I’m nervous, I...act like it’s all part of the plan.”

  “Are you nervous now?” she asked.

  “Yah.”

  “Well...don’t be,” she said. “I intend to find you a good wife. I want the best for you. I want to see you happy.”

  “You talk like you’re some matronly aunt, or something, like you have no mutual history with me,” he said. “We’re the same age, Adel. I’m not some young man looking to you for your wisdom. I’m your equal.”

  Adel sighed. “You’re saying we have memories together. And you’re right, but you’re wasting your time using up your charm on me.”

  “Who else should I chat with?” He spread his arms and looked around. “And while I’m here, I’m supposed to act like a tourist or something? Eat your food and sit in my room? Eat the pie and watch you work? Would that make you more comfortable? I thought this was your idea—us getting to know each other so you’d be able to recommend me honestly. But I’m not going to pretend you’re some old lady when you aren’t!”

  “I didn’t say I was an old lady!” she shot back.

  “Well, you’re acting like one,” he said.

  Old? She was acting old? Annoyance surged up inside her.

  “I’m acting like a respected member of this community who has been given the task of finding you a wife!”

  “I think you’re being fake,” he replied.

  “Me?” She tried to tamp down her rising anger. “How would you even know, Jake? You’ve been back for a few months, and I’ve chatted with you a few times. That’s it. What do you know about who I am on a heart level? What do you know about what I’ve been through, and how I’ve contributed to this community?”

  “Because you’re scared of a human connection!” he retorted.

  “I am not.”

  “This—” He waggled a finger between them. “This is a human connection. Seeing me as a man, as a whole and complete person, as your equal. That’s a human connection. And it’s freaking you out.”

  He caught her gaze and held it. Her heartbeat sped up and she broke off the eye contact and looked away. Yes, she was noticing the man in him, more than she should.

  “This is too casual for a single man and woman to be together,” she said. “You might recall that we do things differently here.”

  “We were friends once,” he said.

  “We were schoolmates. Not friends.” It sounded harsh, but the distinction mattered. She felt bad all the same. “I don’t mean for that to sound cruel, but we don’t know each other as adults, Jake. We knew each other as kinner. It’s different.”

  “Yah,” he agreed, but he didn’t look daunted, either. “Very different. We’re both all grown up now.”

  More than grown. She’d already buried a husband. And that wasn’t an excuse—it was a fact. That love and loss had molded and changed her.

  “But being grown and good-looking isn’t everything, Jake,” she said.

  “Who are you calling good-looking?” he asked with a slow smile. “You or me?”

  She’d said too much, and she felt her cheeks heat. “I’m not a vain woman—”

  “So it’s me?” He was teasing now, and she turned away.

  “I normally have a little more poise than this.”

  “Then I take that as a compliment,” he replied.

  “You’ve been with the Englishers for too long,” she said curtly.

  He chuckled. “You’re more human than you think, Adel.” He was silent for a moment. “And for the record, you have matured into a beautiful woman.”

  * * *

  And maybe Jake had been with Englishers too long, but there was something about Adel that he liked so much more on this side of thirty. She was serious, sure, but he sensed a softness under all that bravado. The things that enticed him in his younger years were no longer the same things he was looking for in a wife. And while he knew that Adel had zero interest in marriage right now, he did see what she had to offer—maturity, insight, grace, dignity. And it didn’t hurt that she was also incredibly beautiful.

  So yes, that last shred of immaturity in him was enjoying getting a reaction out of her. She might not want marriage, but she had noticed him, and he liked that.

  “You shouldn’t be flirting with me,” Adel said.

  “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t really mean to flirt. I was just being honest,” he replied.

  She cast him an unimpressed look. “You’re supposed to be building a life. And a choice in wife is a very important one. You can’t play with this.”

  “Who says I’m playing?” he countered. Then he sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m not going to tease you. You’re right.”

  “This is serious,” she said. “Because you have to build it from the ground up, and a marriage is part of the foundation. A life doesn’t happen by accident. It is built one choice at a time. Every goal comes with a price. If you want to be a farmer, you have to buy the land. If you want to be a woodworker, you have to be able to open a shop. And you can’t do more than one thing, most times, because there is only so much time and so much money you can invest into it. When you marry, that choice is for a lifetime—the length of which, only Gott knows. So knowing what you want and walking purposefully in that direction is incredibly important.”