Close to Home by Emma Miller

Chapter 2

"Mary Glick! How are you ever going to find a husband hiding in here?" Miriam Yoder entered Viola Steuben's cozy country kitchen, her cousin Dorcas, beside her. "The boys are all outside at the barn raising."

"I'm not hiding," Mary said, trying to make herself as small as possible, standing beside a pie safe. Having everyone know why her parents had sent her from Blessing Creek, Oregon, to Delaware was humiliating. Being Old Order Amish and twenty-five with no husband was shameful enough, but this hunting trip just made matters worse.

"Come on," Miriam coaxed as she picked up a tray of homemade donuts. "Bring that pot of coffee. There are eligible boys here and more are coming. By noon, there's no telling how many prospective suitors will be flocking around you."

"Easy for her to say." Dorcas reached for one of the apple donuts. "She's got two fellows courting her. And one of them's a Mennonite," she added in a whisper, crumbs falling from her mouth.

Miriam frowned. "Don't listen to a word she says. I'm not walking out with Charley or John."

Reluctantly, Mary followed the two outside. "It won't do any good, you know," she murmured, clutching the coffeepot as if it were a life jacket. "My relatives and friends have tried to set me up, but I never seem to suit anyone." She didn't add that everyone said she was being too picky, that she never gave anyone a chance and that she intimidated boys.

Coming to Delaware hadn't been Mary's idea. And in the weeks since she'd arrived, everyone had been nice to her, but she missed home. She missed her big, noisy family and her friends, and she couldn't help thinking that if she did find a man here willing to marry her, she'd have to live three thousand miles away from everyone she loved. She just couldn't imagine living so far away.

Mary admitted to feeling just a little envious of Miriam, who was cute and smart and of average height. Two nice boys courting her at once? The only one who'd asked to court Mary was Zebediah Swartzentruber, and he was fifty with a scraggly beard, bad breath and eleven grandchildren.

Of course, no one would force her to marry a man she couldn't love, but she wanted her own home, someone to love her, and babies. Reba, her best friend, had two adorable little boys and a plump, jolly husband, Able, who adored her. Surely there was an Able out there for her somewhere.

"I'll take those donuts." Dorcas snatched the tray and hurried toward the young men who were unloading a lumber wagon.

"There's Menno." Miriam indicated a boy taking a donut from Dorcas. "He's available."

"Too young." Mary shook her head. "And he looks like my little brother."

"How about that one?" Miriam nodded to a tall young man on the far side of the wagon. "He's nice." His back was turned, showing off a blue shirt stretched tight by broad shoulders. His hair, wheat-gold and curly, touched the back of his collar.

A small bubble of hope flowered in Mary's chest. Something about him, even from the back, intrigued her. "Ya," she whispered with a smile. "Him." 

Now there was a real possibility....