Little Amish Matchmaker Read Online Free

some juice, then choked on the acidic drink, Isaac burst out laughing uproariously. Sim smacked his arm, but Isaac kept on laughing.
    Dat and Mam were clueless, the expressions on their faces much the same as the duck decoy on his chest of drawers.
    While their parents drank their coffee, Isaac and Sim went to the basement for some cider. As soon as they were out of earshot, Isaac crowed triumphantly. “Do you think you should have a frolic at the Speichers?” then scampered behind the Ping-Pong table before Sim could catch him.
    Sim shook his head, telling him he was too big for his britches.
    “Did she help you fix the water pump?”
    “No.”
    “Did you go into the house?”
    “Yes.”
    “Did you see her?”
    “Yes.”
    “Did you talk to her?”
    “Of course not. Her mother made coffee and set out some kind of cupcakes.”
    “Did you eat one?”
    Without answering, Sim asked, “Is Catherine shy?”
    “No. Not one bit. She’s just right.”
    That was the end of the conversation. Sim would not say one more word, taking the jar of home-canned cider upstairs and heating it, his thoughts clearly a million miles away.
    They hitched Pet and Dan to the bobsled, that ancient, hazardous rattletrap half hidden in the haymow with loose hay and cobwebs. They swept the bobsled clean, rubbed it with moist old cloths, spread clean straw on the bed, oiled the runners and springs, fixed the seat with two extra screws, then settled bales of hay covered with buggy blankets behind the front seat.
    Isaac was allowed to wear one of Sim’s ­beanies, Dat saying a storm like this was a rare and wonderful thing, but not to expect to wear one always. They were worldly, in his opinion, but you needed to exercise common sense on a day like this.
    Isaac couldn’t express his feeling of absolute happiness, sitting up there beside Sim, wearing the beanie he wore to play hockey. He felt like a true king reigning over his subjects. Not one thing could go wrong.
    Pet and Dan were both the same color, a light caramel with lighter manes and tails. They were brushed to sleek perfection, the black well-oiled harness slapping against their rounded haunches as they broke into a heavy, clumsy trot, their hooves making a dull “thok-thoking” sound against the snow. Their manes were so heavy they broke apart on top of their massive necks, then jiggled back and forth with each step.
    It was snowing still. Isaac bent his head to avoid the stinging flakes, but after a few miles he became used to it. They picked up Calvin and his sister Martha and gave them a ride, making a wide circle before depositing them on their driveway again. They picked up some chicken feed at the hardware store in Bird-In-Hand, then turned to go back home.
    Isaac was checking out the new sign in front of the bakery when he heard Sim yell, “Whoa!”
    He turned to look down into the astonished eyes of his teacher.
    “Do you need a ride?”
    In disbelief, Isaac watched as his beloved teacher’s eyes filled with quick tears.
    “Oh, I do. I’m so glad to see someone. Anyone! Our water isn’t coming again. The calves are bawling, and I was going to walk to the firehouse for help.”
    Quickly, Isaac scrambled to the back and sat primly on a hay bale with his hands clasped jubilantly on his knees. Now she would have to sit beside Sim.
    She took Sim’s proffered hand, sat down gingerly, and turned to look at him, saying, “You have no idea how glad I am to see you. I’m just desperate. My mam can’t go out in this, and I can see the roads are all but impassable.”
    Sim only nodded, and Isaac thought, Oh, come on now, say something.
    “I hope we don’t meet a snowplow,” Catherine said.
    “These horses should be okay. They’re used to just about anything.”
    Isaac pumped the air with his fist, quickly folding it into his other hand when Catherine turned, saying, “Hey, Isaac! I took your seat.”
    In the distance, they heard the ominous rattling of chains, the dragon