The Matchmakers of Butternut Creek by Jane Myers Perrine Page A

ahead.
    “They looked happy. A great success for the Widows.” Birdie smiled for a second, only until Blossom hurried in, her short hair perfectly coiffed and a pink jacket covering a matching pink sweater. She held a quilted basket, which she set on the table.
    “You’re late,” Birdie said. “One of the tenets of the Widows is that we don’t keep other people waiting.”
    “Oh.” Blossom’s round face flushed. “I’m sorry.”
    She had such a soft sweet voice. Birdie didn’t like soft, sweet voices, not a bit.
    “I didn’t realize there were rules,” Blossom explained. “I thought the Widows only went around doing good.”
    “Well, of course that’s our main principle,” Mercedes said gently. “But we have to plan our good deeds,” she continued. “And we don’t keep the others waiting.”
    “Of course. I’m sorry.” Blossom settled into the fourth chair. “I’m a little late because my cook just finished making this.” She opened the basket, pulled out a plastic container, and opened it to show a coffee cake. “Doesn’t that look delicious? It’s still warm.”
    Mercedes had a look on her face that said, Don’t you know you don’t bring food to a restaurant? But she’d never express that thought aloud.
    “Don’t you know you don’t bring food to a restaurant?” Birdie said.
    “They sell food here,” Winnie added.
    “We all take turns paying for our treat,” Mercedes said.
    Blossom’s little pink mouth formed an O. “I…I didn’t think. I wanted to bring you all something special, to show how much I appreciate your inviting me to be a Widow.”
    “You haven’t been accepted as a Widow yet, not completely,” Birdie said. “There are steps.”
    “I haven’t?” Blossom blinked. “There are?”
    “I had to go through a provisional period before I became a real Widow,” Winnie added.
    “I didn’t understand.” Blossom reached for the pastry. “I’ll put this away.”
    “No, no,” Birdie protested. “As long as it’s here, we might as well enjoy it.” She reached out to break off a piece, took a small bite and chewed. “It is really good.” She cut herself a large piece and pushed the plate toward the others. “Try a little.”
    Winnie frowned. “Shouldn’t we be getting down to business instead of eating?” She pulled out a notebook and pen.
    Bossiest woman Birdie had ever met, but she also noticed that Winnie served herself nearly a quarter of the coffee cake.
    “We need to discuss the preacher…,” Birdie said.
    “I think we need to leave him alone for a while.” Mercedes daintily wiped her mouth with a napkin.
    With the addition of Blossom, Birdie became more aware that nearly everything her friend did was dainty and lady-like. She could only hope the two would not join forces and attempt to change Birdie, to make her softer and nicer. That dog wouldn’t hunt.
    “Why do you think we need to leave the preacher alone?” Birdie demanded. “One of our missions is to get the man married.”
    “I know, but maybe we’ve pushed too hard, Bird.”
    “Pushed too hard? We’ve left him alone for days.”
    “Yes, and we need to leave him alone for a while longer.”
    “Can’t believe you’d say that, Mercedes. Can’t believe you believe it. The man is not making the slightest effort to find himself a wife. If we don’t try to find him a woman to marry…”
    “Well, that’s the problem, isn’t it?” Mercedes said. “There aren’t many women around. Who’s left to fix him up with? Pretty soon, any unmarried woman is going to run if she sees us.” She sighed. “And the preacher is beginning to ignore our efforts. Was he the least bit thankful when we mentioned Gussie Milton? No.”
    “Oh, tell me.” Blossom clapped. “Are we trying to find a wife for Reverend Jordan?”
    That woman didn’t understand a thing about being a Widow. How could she become one if she didn’t comprehend who they were and what they did?
    “Didn’t you figure