here,” she whispered. “Please let him be here.” She felt as though she’d swallowed a double handful of goose feathers. She liked Joseph; she really did. And she wanted him to like her. She stopped short, seeing the empty swing. Her heart sank and her knees went weak.
And then she saw him on his knees beside the fishpond. “Joseph!” she called too loudly. She gave him her best smile as she hurried toward him.
“Ruby.” He rose and stepped back from the lip of the pool. “Her fish are getting big,” he said. “I saw an orange-and-black one.” Joseph’s hat was crooked, and she could see that it was too tight due to the bulky bandage.
“I brought you a drink,” she said. “It’s hot out here. I hope you like lemonade.”
Joseph nodded. “Ya, I do.” His lips curved in a tentative smile.
She’d been with him all evening, here at the house and at the hospital, but she hadn’t really gotten a good look at him. She’d remembered his amazing eyes, but memory wasn’t as good as looking at him here in full daylight. They were as blue as cornflowers, intelligent, and they inspired trust. They were Deitsch blue eyes that seemed lit from within. He wasn’t a huge man, but neither was he small. He was exactly the right size, she decided, tall enough without being gangly, and broad at the shoulders without appearing muscle-bound. Joseph’s nose was straight and well formed, and he had a smattering of freckles across his rosy cheeks.
Was this the man her mother promised her would come?
Joseph reached for the glass.
Suddenly, she was aware that she’d been staring at him, lost in her own thoughts while he was waiting for his cold drink. She shoved the lemonade at him with too much force. As his hand closed around the glass, ice and liquid splashed across the front of his shirt.
“Ne!” she protested. “I’m so sorry.”
Joseph looked down at his shirt and laughed. “That’s one way to cool me off.”
“It’s all my fault,” she said. “I’m such a klutz.”
“My fault. I was looking at you and not the glass.”
Ruby shook her head. She felt sick. “You might as well know I always trip or drop or knock over things. I always have. When I was in school, the teacher called me stumble-bumble. I never got to write on the blackboard because I either snapped off the chalk or dropped the eraser and then kicked it when I leaned over to pick it up or—” She gestured, showing him the hopelessness of the situation.
“Yeah, well...did you ever get up in front of the whole school and the parents and...and...not be able to say your own name?” Joseph asked.
“You didn’t,” she exclaimed.
“I...I did.” He paused and then went on. “It was our Christmas party. I was supposed to recite a poem. It was short, just six lines. But I couldn’t get past my name. I just stood there like a block of wood with my mouth open, trying not to cry.”
Ruby pressed her lips together. “I know what you mean. It’s bad when I tip over the milk bucket or catch my apron in the barn door, but it’s worse when people are watching.”
He shook his head. “Anyone can have an accident.”
“But I make a regular habit of it.”
“Then I’d best take that other glass before you dump it over my head,” he teased.
For an instant, she thought he was mocking her, but when she saw the expression on his face, she was certain she’d made a friend. She gave him her lemonade and followed him sheepishly to the swing.
“You...you sit first,” Joseph said.
She could feel herself blushing, but she didn’t feel as though she was going to throw up anymore. She felt happy. She’d sent him to the hospital with a broken head and she’d tried to drown him in lemonade, and he didn’t seem to care. He was smiling at her the way she’d seen other boys smile at the girls they wanted to drive home from singings.
“Admit it,” he said. “You’ve never been at a loss for words.”
Ruby shook her head as he handed her lemonade to her. “Words I have aplenty,” she said. “Too many according to some people. My grandfather used to say that I talked faster than a horse could trot.” She sighed. “I’ve tried to stop and think before I speak, but the words bubble up inside me, and when I open my mouth they fly out.”
“I don’t think you talk too much,” Joseph pronounced solemnly. “I like to hear you talk.” He chuckled. “It keeps me from having to try and keep up my end of the conversation.”
She gazed down at her drink and considered what he’d just said. She took a sip of the lemonade. It was a little tart.
Joseph took a seat beside her. There was a gap between them, not too much, and not too little. They were far enough apart to satisfy propriety. “I have more work than I can do,” he said. “Bricklaying. Cement. Fireplaces.”
She held her breath.
“I asked Sara to try to find me a wife.”
Ruby’s heartbeat quickened.
“And...and I know that’s why you’re staying with Sara.” He met her gaze. “To...to find a husband, I mean, not to find a wife.”
She smiled at him, thinking he was the cutest thing she’d ever seen.
“If you don’t have anyone either, maybe—” he swallowed, and his fingers tightened on the glass “—I thought... I mean... I hoped we...”
“Could see if we suit each other?” she finished for him.
Joseph nodded eagerly.
“I’d like that,” she said. “I’d like that very much.”
“Me too,” he agreed. He looked down. “But...I suppose I... It’s only fair I should tell you I...I have a good trade and I work hard, but I’m far from well-off. And...and you should know that I have a widowed mother that I’m responsible for.” He spread his hands. “I’m a plain...plain man, Ruby. If that’s not what you’re looking for...”
She clapped her hands together and smiled at him. “That’s exactly what I’m looking for, Joseph Brenneman. I think we’ll suit each other very well.”
“It...it’s early. I...I know,” Joseph said, hat in hand at Sara’s back door. It was Wednesday morning, and he was starting a foundation for the Moses King family’s addition today. He had a lot of work to do. But he couldn’t wait any longer to speak to the matchmaker. “Could I? That is...is...” As usual, the words he wanted to say caught in his throat, choking him. He could feel his face growing hot. Sara would think him a fool. Maybe she was right.
Sara stepped out onto the porch in her bare feet. She was a round, tidy woman with crinkly dark hair, and dark eyes that seemed to bore through him. “Ruby isn’t here,” she said. “She went off with Ellie to the schoolhouse. Ellie’s our teacher. Today is their first day, and Ruby offered to give her a hand getting the first graders settled in.”
“Didn’t come to—” He broke off when he realized that he was practically shouting at Sara in an effort to get the words out. “Came to see you.” The last bit came in a rush, like shelled peas popping out of a shell all at once. He groaned inwardly. Why was this so hard? Words rolled off his cousin Andy’s tongue so easily. Tyler never seemed to have trouble talking to women. Joseph took a deep breath. “I want...” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Ruby. Make a match. You. With us.”
Sara’s shrewd face softened. “This sounds serious, Joseph. Maybe you’d best come to my office. I don’t like to discuss business