Little Amish Matchmaker Read Online Free Page A

let out of his lair, that abominable snowplow. Sim tightened his grip on the reins; Isaac could tell by the squaring of his shoulders. The humongous yellow vehicle rolled into view, spraying a mountain of white snow to the side, chains squeaking and rattling. Pet and Dan lifted their heads, pricked their ears forward, while Catherine grabbed Sim’s arm with one hand, stifling a scream with the other.
    Perfect! Just perfect!
    Isaac knew these Belgians wouldn’t do much, if anything, and sure enough, they plodded on as the monstrous truck rattled by.
    “Sorry! I’m so sorry,” Catherine said.
    Sim grinned down at her, saying, “That’s all right, Catherine. I wouldn’t mind meeting another one.”
    Yes!
    Up went Isaac’s fist, then he brought it down and banged it against his knee, squeezing his eyes shut as he dipped his head.
    And they still had to fix the water pump.
    Isaac had to walk to school the following morning. The sun was dazzling, the whole world covered in a cold, white blanket of snow. The wind moaned about the house, sending gigantic clouds of whirling snow off rooftops and trees, across hills and onto the roads, especially where there was an embankment to the west.
    Scootering was out of the question, that was sure. He tied his lunch box to the old wooden sled. He had greased the runners with the rectangular block of paraffin that Mam used to stiffen her white coverings when she washed and ironed them. This sled used to be Dat’s, and it was the undisputed leader of all the sleds at Hickory Grove School.
    Teacher Catherine greeted him from her desk with the usual “Good morning, Isaac.” He was a bit disappointed, the way she said it sort of quieter than usual, then dropped her head and immediately became quite busy.
    Had she seen all that fist-pumping? He certainly hoped not.
    Hannah Fisher had only one problem wrong in arithmetic class, and he had 100%, which sent Dora Esh into a spasm of sniffing and carrying on. She even raised her hand and asked if it was wrong if Isaac had boxes instead of cartons for a story problem, trying to make him lose his 100%. Then when Teacher Catherine said it was all right, that the problem had both boxes and cartons in it, she looked as if she was going to start bawling, blinking her eyes like that and getting all red in the face.
    Someone should straighten these girls out.
    All day, Teacher Catherine acted strangely. Even at recess while sledding, she seemed a bit stiff, her movements calculated, almost self-conscious. He caught her watching him do his English, and when he looked up, she quickly looked away.
    That was odd.
    But, he supposed, you couldn’t get away from the fact that no matter how much he admired his teacher, she was a girl, and they all had a tendency to be strange at times.
    You just couldn’t figure them out.
    Take last evening while they were fixing the pump at Speichers. Sim had soon become aware of the problem, but they had to pull the water pump. Catherine had helped gamely. She watched as Sim tightened something, primed it, stopped and started it, then lowered it and told them to open a spigot somewhere and let it run for awhile until the water ran clear.
    She hadn’t invited them in.
    Just stood out there by the old windmill and talked to Sim. Isaac was freezing. He was hungry. Why couldn’t they go inside and have a cupcake? They weren’t laughing or having fun at all. They just talked boring stuff about hospitals and her dat and all mosa . (alms) He thought Catherine was sort of crying at one point, but he got cold and climbed on the bobsled and covered himself up real good with the buggy blanket.
    Once, he peeped out over, and they were still standing there, only closer yet, and Sim’s head was going to fall off his shoulders if he leaned forward any more than that.
    You couldn’t date a girl without laughing, ever. Isaac’s toes were so cold he stuck them under the hay bale and got steadily angrier. Just when he thought he was