Amanda Weds a Good Man Read Online Free

with a pretty girl. No harm done, really.”
    â€œBut they’re fifteen and thirteen!”
    â€œAnd you didn’t exasperate your folks when you were that age?” Sam teased. “Why, I can recall when you and I unscrewed the caps of the salt and pepper shakers at Abe and Beulah Mae’s wedding—”
    â€œShh! My boys don’t need any more ideas.” Wyman let out the breath he’d been holding. Maybe he
was
blowing this incident out of proportion, but he’d overheard folks saying his kids needed a mother’s firm hand and watchful eyes. “This hasn’t been Amanda’s best shopping trip. I hope she won’t change her mind about marrying me.”
    â€œShe’s patient and kind, the very definition of love,” Sam replied. “Everybody’s getting the prewedding jitters, I suspect. It’ll all work out as God intended, my friend.”
    â€œI hope you’re right.” He looked at the tall, slender fellow with the graying beard, grateful that Sam had displayed such understanding. The Cedar Creek district was blessed to have him for their new preacher. “Did you and Amanda set a date? Abby was saying you’ll be performing the ceremonies for your Matt and Phoebe soon, as well.”
    Sam lifted the page of the wall calendar that hung behind him. “Here in the Cedar Creek district we always hold weddings on Thursdays . . . so how’s the second Thursday of October work for you? That’ll be the eighth.”
    â€œCan’t thank you folks enough, Sam. I’ll be there.”
    â€œIt’s always a better start for a marriage when the groom shows up,” Sam teased. He picked up the pencil beside his cash register. “I’ll write you in, Wyman. No wiggling out of it now.”
    Vera was pushing her loaded cart up to the counter, so Wyman rounded up his three sons. The four of them went outside to fetch a pair of buggy wheels from his wagon and then crossed the blacktop to Graber’s Custom Carriages, with Wags circling them excitedly. It was a fine autumn day, so Wyman tried to enjoy the crunch of fallen leaves beneath his feet and the panorama of farmland . . . woolly sheep grazing in nearby pastures, and the deep green cedars that swayed in the breeze along Cedar Creek. “I hope you boys have gotten your shenanigans out of your system,” he warned as he opened the door.
    Inside the carriage shop, the heavy smell of paint and the tattoo of pneumatic drills filled the air. By the looks of it, the buggy business was keeping James Graber and his men very busy.
    â€œHullo there, Wyman! Gut to see you Brubakers on this beautiful day,” a familiar voice called out above the racket. James had lifted the front of his welding mask and was smiling at them from beside the nearest workbench. “What can I do for you?”
    As Wyman showed James where his wheels needed some repair, his boys started toward a young redheaded fellow who was brushing deep green paint on a nearly finished wagon. Noah Coblentz had apprenticed with James a while back. Wyman wondered if Eddie shouldn’t be looking for a place to learn a trade, as well, since he showed no interest in working at the elevator.
    â€œWe can have these ready in a few days,” James said. He attached a tag to one of the wooden wheels before leaning them against his bench. “So how’ve you been, Wyman? Busy at the elevator now that the harvest has started, jah?”
    â€œThe corn’s coming in,” Wyman said with a nod. “English fellows with bigger, fancier combines are always the first, and this year they haven’t had much of a crop. The drought’s going to hit us all right in the pocketbook, I’m afraid.”
    â€œMakes me grateful to work in a business where Plain folks need vehicles, rain or shine,” James replied. He glanced over to where Wyman’s sons were chatting with Noah.