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 in front of other people. I like to keep things confidential until matches are formally announced. To give everyone privacy.”
Joseph nodded and tugged on the brim of his straw work hat. He’d shaved and showered that morning. It was important to look his best. He might sound like a hayseed, but there was no need to look like one. He’d even worn a new shirt his mother just made him, but he had an old one in the buggy that he could change into when he got to the King house. If he ruined this one with concrete, his mother would not be happy, and when she wasn’t happy, home could be an unpleasant place. But the shirt didn’t matter now. It was what he had to get straight with Sara.
“Ruby,” he blurted. Her name came out in a whisper, which he corrected in a deep and more insistent tone. “Ruby. I...I want to talk to you about...” He looked down at his boots. “Her,” he finished in a rush of breath.
When he looked up, a hint of a smile lit Sara’s almond-shaped eyes, but her mouth remained firm. After a second’s hesitation, she held open the door and motioned him into the kitchen.
A tall girl in a lilac dress was washing dishes at the sink while an even prettier one dried. The tall one turned to smile at him. “Arlene,” Sara said, “This is Joseph Brenneman. Leah, I think you know each other.”
“Hello, Joseph,” Leah
