A/N: Canonically speaking (hahahahahahahahahaha), Little Joe would have been married and had two sons by the time his brothers arrived in Dodgeball City, hence him having a love interest in this fic.

Genesis 41:45 & 50: "And Pharaoh called Joseph's name Zaphnathpaaneah; and he gave him to wife Asenath the daughter of Potipherah priest of On. And Joseph went out over all the land of Egypt… And unto Joseph were born two sons before the years of famine came, which Asenath the daughter of Potipherah priest of On bare unto him."

In following the naming conventions, I wasn't quite sure how to handle "Asenath," and eventually I decided on Natalie.

Through all his trials and tribulations, Little Joe had sometimes wondered why God had allowed bad things to happen to him, but he had held onto his good attitude, knowing he was not forsaken. He figured that if things didn't turn around for him in this world, there was always the next one, and he had determined in his heart to honor God the best way he knew how, even when it landed him in Dodgeball City's pokey for a crime he hadn't committed.

Eventually, the storm passed, and the proverbial rainbow appeared when Little Joe found himself promoted to the mayor's second-in-command, overseeing the next seven years' abundant harvests and bountiful food production in preparation of a severe famine. No longer a slave or a prisoner, Little Joe was respected and cherished by his neighbors, and in the mayor's eyes he could do no wrong. He had a nice home of his own, wonderful colleagues, mentally stimulating work, and he had even bought himself a pet parakeet he was teaching to sing, "Get Along, Little Dogies." If that were not wonderful enough, God seemed to have slipped him another blessing in the form of good friends like the Rhubarb family, especially the eldest daughter, Miss Natalie.

The Rhubarbs were longtime friends of the mayor, and they had attended Dodgeball City's box social — a party where picnic baskets made by the ladies in town were auctioned to the men. Little Joe had organized the event to raise funds for the giant silo which would hold the food stores during the long famine. The mayor had been quick to introduce Little Joe as a dance partner to the plum pretty Miss Natalie, noting with smirking satisfaction how the two got along. He also ribbed Little Joe mercilessly when the cucumber had won the bid for Miss Natalie's picnic basket of fried chicken, macaroni salad, and apple pie.

"They'll be courting within two moons; mark my words," the mayor had chuckled to Sheriff Bob.

Little Joe, however, was not in a rush to get hitched, and he wouldn't dare make such a suggestion to a refined lady he had just met. Even so, he never turned down an invitation to supper on the Rhubarb's ranch, and he hardly needed any persuasion to enjoy a walk with Miss Natalie (accompanied by her mother and her sister, of course) whenever they rode into town to shop. He also made sure to visit the local bathhouse on days he expected to see Miss Natalie, and he meticulously combed his fake handlebar mustache far more than usual.

One particular afternoon, he rode out to the ranch for a late lunch and a sewing circle. The Rhubarb family were an industrious bunch. When they were not attending to the daily tasks of the ranch, they found other ways to make money, like selling their handicrafts in town. Miss Natalie, her mother, and her little sister, Cindy, offered to donate saddle blankets which they made to Little Joe, which he could then sell to the cowboys in order to help with the silo's remaining building costs. Since Little Joe was pretty good at quilting, he offered to help. Mrs. Rhubarbs had raised her nonexistent eyebrow at the second-highest ranking member of Dodgeball City attending a family sewing circle, but she wasn't in a position to question said second-highest ranking member's hobbies, especially when her daughters enjoyed his company, so she welcomed him.

After a light lunch of tuna subs and potato chips, the four settled in the parlor with work baskets and fabrics. Little Joe conveniently found himself sitting next to Miss Natalie on the sofa.

Despite his reserves about mentioning courting, Little Joe found much to admire about her. Miss Natalie was as intelligent and kind as she was pretty, always finding some work to do with her nonexistent hands, often in the service of others. She sewed clothes for orphans, volunteered on bake-sale committees for the needy, ministered first-aid to her father's ranch hands, harvested cacti to make supper for her family, and all sorts of chores around the ranch. Plus she was a good listener and acted as an excellent sounding board for his ideas regarding the food storage — and she sometimes liked playing arcade games at MacPotiphar's Rootin' Tootin' Pizza Place — and the way the desert sun blazed in her orange-red hair could leave Little Joe breathless — and her cute giggle cheered him up when he was frustrated or homesick…

Little Joe realized he had been gazing at Miss Natalie for a little too long and quickly focused on his sewing.

While they worked, Cindy, a blonde rhubarb of about eight years old, asked Little Joe plenty of questions, heedless of the strained looks which her sister kept shooting her.

"What's it like to live in jail, Mr. Joe? Have you ever been up river, Mr. Joe? How do you break up a fight over pizza, Mr. Joe? Did you see Natalie's new bonnet, Mr. Joe? It cost six whole dollars! And the mayor's wife said she looks about as fine as frog's hair in it!"

Far from feeling offended, or at all awkward (except when he mumbled a quick praise for Miss Natalie's pretty bonnet), Little Joe answered each with a good natured smile. Being around Cindy reminded him of Baby Benjamin, who he hadn't seen in years, and he often wondered if his little brother was now just as curious and bright as his small friend. After a while, however, Mrs. Rhubarb broke into the onslaught of innocent inquiries.

"You know, I need to listen to something to keep my mind focused on sewing," she remarked. "Little Joe, I'd be much obliged if you'd kindly read some of Pa's newspaper for us."

"Sure thing, ma'am," Little Joe acquiesced, retrieving the large newspaper from the tea table where Mr. Rhubarb had left it.

Cindy took the opportunity to snag the seat next to Natalie, despite the frown which her sister sent her. Little Joe good-naturedly settled in an armchair near the two. All newspapers were imported into Dodgeball City through the Pony Express, and Mr. Rhubarb's had all sorts of articles about events in distant towns. With a strong voice (and a glass of root beer nearby), Little Joe shared accounts of boat races, train robberies, town-hall meetings, and new mines being opened. When he worked through the articles, he moved onto the advertisements, which had detailed illustrations of tooth powder, perfume, moustache wax, and hot cocoa. Now and then, Little Joe checked to see whether that sweet smile was still present on Miss Natalie's fair countenance, and he felt a quick thrill to see that it was.

"...And then there's an advertisement from a mail-order bride company," Little Joe remarked, scanning the contents. He sat up slightly. "Hey, look at that!"

Miss Natalie looked up sharply from her needle, studying his bright face. "Is there something that interests you, Mr. Joe?"

"Just that the company is based out of a town in Spinachusetts where my great-grandparents used to live," he explained with an almost nostalgic smile. Although he had never met his great-grandparents, a stab of homesickness touched his heart.

Miss Natalie continued to gaze at Little Joe. "Is that so?"

"Yep, they moved out West before my grandpa was born," he continued, leaning back in the chair, "although my great-grandpa actually sent a guy back to Spinachusetts to find Grandpa Ike a bride. No need for a mail-order bride catalogue for a match divinely ordained."

"Divinely ordained? Then I hope you'll be kind enough to tell us about it," Mrs. Rhubarb smiled.

Little Joe shook his head. "Oh, I don't know if it's something you guys would like. It's a family story and all."

"It might make our needles move faster," Mrs. Rhubarb returned with a laugh. "Give it a shot, dear."

"Oh, yes, please," Miss Natalie put in. "I'm sure your story will be more appealing than some mail-order bride ad."

"Well, since you twisted my arm," he quipped, laying the newspaper to the side.

"Would you like me to refill your soda first, Mr. Joe?" Miss Natalie asked.

Little Joe gratefully accepted, and Miss Natalie brought over the 2-liter bottle of root beer. She gracefully filled up his glass, and while Little Joe took a sip, she carefully removed the newspaper from the table and tucked it between the sofa cushions beside her.

With a satisfied sigh, Little Joe leaned back with his glass, gazing up at the gas lamps as he recalled the details which Pa used to tell him when he was a little cuke.

"Well, it all started after Granny Sarah died…"

The moment Eliezer heard Big Daddy wanted to see him in his office, he dropped his work with the ranch's sheep and hurried across the stretch of sand to the main house, ignoring the blazing sun beating down on his felt hat. He was a short, yellow gourd with a golden tooth, and the summons brought him no small sense of relief. Ever since the funeral, Big Daddy had barely left his room, even to break bread with his kid, and his age seemed to be catching up to him from the haggard look on his wrinkled, green face. The fact he wanted to see anybody had to mean something good for his mental health, Eliezer figured.

Eliezer entered the house and charged down the dark front hall to the corner office at the back. He paused long enough to straighten his warm hat, before he knocked with his invisible grasp.

Big Daddy's voice gave him permission to enter, and Eliezer softly opened the door, peering in to see the elderly cucumber behind his desk. He held a decorative walking stick which Sarah had given him for his last birthday, and he gazed solemnly at the jeweled handle.

Eliezer's heart smote with sympathy. Big Daddy and Miss Sarah had been together for most of their long lives, to the point Eliezer reckoned their sepia-toned photographs ought to be in the dictionary next to the entry for soul mates. Eliezer also reckoned that Big Daddy was right then feeling a rip in his soul the size of Death Valley, and whatever he required now was probably plum important.

"You wanted to see me, Boss?" he asked as he shut the door behind him.

Nodding silently, Big Daddy slid out of his chair and moseyed toward his northern window, which overlooked the back of the house. He motioned with his walking stick for Eliezer to join him, and the two peered through the lace curtains toward the family cemetery behind the main house.

Several yards away, the green, cylindrical figure of a cucumber could be seen tending to his mother's grave. Rocks had been laid out on the sand, and Ike seemed to be rearranging some in order to plant a cactus near the tombstone.

Eliezer regarded his young master with empathy. Although Ike had been born late in his parents' lives — a literal miracle child — he had been close to his mother, the jewel of her old age. Miss Sarah had always been protective of her boy and had been involved in his life, and now poor Ike had lost a confidante.

Big Daddy, meanwhile, slowly turned his decorative walking stick within his invisible grasp, considering his boy.

"My one regret is that Sarah won't be around to see any grandbabies," he finally sighed, "but I can do my part to make sure some get here eventually."

Eliezer nodded, catching on. "A little friend for Master Ike?"

"Exactly," Big Daddy answered, turning from the window. "The boy outta get hitched soon, but he can't marry any of the gals around these parts."

Eliezer barely hid his relief. "You sure, Boss?"

"They don't listen when the circuit preacher gives his sermons, but just whisper and gossip and flirt with the local men. Ike needs a lady of integrity."

"And they sneer at me whenever I ride into town," Eliezer confided, glad he did not have to worry about one of them becoming the mistress of the household.

Big Daddy nodded and pointed his walking stick at Eliezer. "And so I need you to promise me you'll never let Ike marry one of them, but you'll go back East and find the right gal."

Eliezer wanted to salute but had no hands, so he settled for tipping his felt hat. "Cross my heart, Boss. Where do you want me to start looking?"

Big Daddy turned and moved toward his eastern window, gazing out at the horizon.

"Worcester, Spinachusetts," he said quietly.

Eliezer frowned at the unfamiliar word. "Wooh-ster?"

"My hometown," Big Daddy explained without looking at him. "God told me to leave my kin and come out West to a land He had promised me. That was in the days before the railroad, you know. Sarah and me rode the Oregon Trail all the way here and founded the Okie-Dokie Corral. But we always said we'd like a girl from back East for Ike when it was time for him to get hitched."

Eliezer knitted the part of his peel which formed his brow. "Sure, sure, but… well, what if I get all the way there, and this girl don't wanna come out West? Should I bring Master Ike to her so that they can get hitched and start a family?"

"No," Big Daddy declared vehemently. "Ike should not go East. His place is here, in the land God gave us."

"Makes sense, I guess," said Eliezer, using his cap to scratch his head. "So, what kinda filly am I supposed to look for?"

"If you can find them, look around for Nahor's family, or Haran's," Big Daddy instructed. "They ought to have just the right gal for my Ike among their grandkids."

Eliezer took out a notepad and quickly wrote down the two names, along with other instructions, like the types of gifts to pack for the bride when she was found. As Eliezer turned a page to write on the back, an uncomfortable thought occurred to him.

"Say, Boss?" he spoke up suddenly. "What if this gal really don't wanna come back with me? I know you're not gonna tell me to hogtie her and haul her back to the kid, right?"

"No, this isn't the plot of Seven Brides for Seven Brothers," Big Daddy deadpanned. "If she doesn't want to come, then you're free from your promise. Just make sure, whatever happens, you don't let Ike go back East."

Eliezer felt another wave of relief. Although he was happy to obey his boss, who had always been good to him, Big Daddy's plan seemed like one of those scenarios where a lot could go wrong. Neither knew whether Nahor or Haran had granddaughters, or unmarried ones at that, and all sorts of things could happen between now and when Eliezer returned to the ranch.

"And you're sure this little lady is gonna be kin to Nahor or Haran?" he ventured to clarify.

Big Daddy nodded solemnly. "God will provide the perfect helpmate for my boy. I trust Him."

Two days later, Eliezer and two of Big Daddy's other servants were on a train heading east. Eliezer had personally overseen the steamer chest of bridal presents being stored in the baggage car, and for the next few days all he had to do was play Sudoku and watch the sandy landscape grow greener. Eliezer might have enjoyed himself a lot more, if it were not for Tom and Harry's antics.

Tom and Harry were a pair of gourd brothers. The eldest, Tom, was short and orange; Harry was tall and yellow with green markings along his stem. They were good workers, but they both had quite an appetite. Against Eliezer's warnings, the gourd brothers had packed potato chips, pretzels and other sodium-rich goodies for their travel snacks, and the salt had turned their throats dryer than a desert. Before even leaving the territory, they had guzzled down all the complimentary water on the train multiple times, causing the train to stop longer to refill. The conductor kept shooting their party dirty looks, and the porters seemed reluctant to talk with them.

"You guys are like camels," Eliezer deadpanned as he watched the brothers down yet another bucket each, "except an actual camel can go a week without water once they've filled their tanks."

When the train finally pulled into Worcester Station, the porters all but threw them and their luggage onto the platform.

Worcester Station sat on the edge of the town, with a wide dirt road and houses stretching out in front of the building, and hilly forest clustered behind it. Eliezer arranged for the station to hold the bulk of the bridal luggage while they looked for good lodgings, and he led his companions onto the dirt road. Wagons and pedestrians milled past, and two or three sent the strangers in cowboy duds curious looks.

"I'm so thirsty, I could drink the Colorado River," Tom panted as he lagged behind the group.

"Oh, yeah?" his brother challenged, but his tired voice lacked his usual brotherly banter. "I'm so thirsty, I could drink the Colorado River and the Mississippi."

"Oh, yeah? Well, I'm so thirsty…"

If Eliezer had eyes, they would have been permanently pointing heavenward from the amount of times he would have rolled them. He tuned them out, scanning the map which he had picked up at the station, but he saw nothing that looked like a hotel, and the brothers' droning voices kept caroming against his concentration. Deciding he could make more progress if he got them quiet, he scanned the area for a quick solution.

A public well sat a stone's throw from the tracks, and Eliezer gratefully guided his companions toward it, but within a few feet, the brothers collapsed, unable to hop another inch.

"I'm so dry, I'm almost a prune!" Tom lamented.

"Bury me not on the lone prairie!" Harry cried, dropping his sweaty head in the dust.

Eliezer exhaled. "Relax, I'll get you guys water."

At this point, they'll need to drink a bathtub each, he thought, wishing he had thought to bring some canteens for the trip. If he couldn't quench the brothers' dry throats by sunset, they might not find lodgings in time and would have to find somewhere outside to sleep, and that would delay him from searching for Ike's bride.

Eliezer managed to get a bucketful of water, which was difficult because the well's winch was old and couldn't crank fast. He split the bucket between the boys, but it barely satisfied them.

"More!"

"Please, more!"

Eliezer returned to the well and cranked the winch to lower the bucket again, but he stopped midway. Sighing, he bowed his head, removing his felt hat and laying it over his heart. His boss was always pretty big about praying, so a quick beseeching probably couldn't hurt.

Lord, I don't know where to start. I feel like an ant put inside the wrong anthill, and for all I know, Nahor, Haran and their kin might've packed up and moved out West to find gold. How am I gonna find a girl for Ike like this?

He looked over his shoulder at the parched brothers. They looked thirstier than two catfish in a desert — and at once he had a flash of inspiration.

"Say, God?" he whispered, gazing up at the cloudless sky. "Them boys'll probably need a ton of water to be comfy. So, here's an idea." He glanced around at the passing townsfolk, noting the number of hoop skirts and pretty bonnets. "Supposin' I ask the local girls to pull me up some water when they come to the well, right? If there be one gal who'll say she'll pull up enough water to let Tom and Harry drink their fill, let that be the gal who's supposed to be Master Ike's bride. You know, not just offer them a cup or two of water, but whole buckets! Only a filly who's one in a million can have that kinda patience. And please send her soon. Amen."

Returning his hat to his head, he hopped back over to his companions, giving them both a gentle nudge.

"C'mon, partners. Let's get you into the shade."

The boardinghouse's pump was being repaired, and the family's cook needed one last bucket of water to make clam chowder for supper. Ever helpful, Becky grabbed a bucket and made her way along the train tracks to the public well.

She was a young, pretty rhubarb with red hair, and she wore a light-blue gown with a matching bonnet. Her soft green face wore a content expression as she strolled, but it promptly changed to a look of alarm when she spotted a trio of fruit by the well. A little yellow gourd was trying to roll two larger gourds under the nearest tree. Concerned, Becky hurried over to them.

"Are you gentlemen okay?" she asked when she reached them.

The short gourd started and whirled to face her, almost gaping.

"Oh! Ah, these guys are just super thirsty," he explained. "They've been drinking water almost nonstop and still can't get enough."

"Oh, my!" Becky shot the two ailing gourds looks of kind pity.

The short gourd fiddled with his hat. "I'd be mighty obliged if you could draw me some water, Miss."

"Certainly!" she cried. "I'll draw up enough to let them have their fill!"

Becky spun and hurried to the well, which had a few public drinking gourds. She filled up three and handed one to each of the strangers. As she was in the habit of carrying two handkerchiefs with her, she wetted them both and laid them on the ailing gourds' foreheads. The two big guys downed their drinks in no time and whimpered.

"More, please," the orange one groaned.

"Yeah, more please," squeaked the yellow one.

Becky gave them both rather maternal smiles. "Of course, you poor things."

As she started back for the well, the short gourd cautioned, "They drink water by the gallons, ma'am. It could take you hours just to satisfy Tom and Harry."

"I can't just sit by and let them go thirsty," Becky answered. She promptly marched for the winch of the windlass and lowered the bucket again.

The short gourd was not kidding about how much Tom and Harry could drink. Becky had to take a few breaks to take a sip of water herself, but at last the pair of thirsty gourds were satisfied.

"Much obliged, ma'am," the orange one said when he felt better, and his brother shyly tipped his hat.

"How ever did you fellas work up such a thirst?" Becky asked.

"Extra salty pretzels," came the voice of the third gourd behind her.

"That'll do it," Becky agreed with a shake of her head. She swiveled with her bucket, intending to return to her original task, but the shorter gourd hopped in front of her, fishing something out of a small carpet bag

"A little gratuity for you, Miss." He held out a pair of beautiful earrings. "You earned it."

Becky did not casually accept gifts from strange men, but after a little persuasion, she finally took them and put them on. After pulling up the water for the cook, Becky peeked into the bucket, admiring what she could see of her reflection. Although her face looked like a vaguely green mass lined with red hair, the sunbeams on her earrings looked like two tiny stars on her nonexistent ears.

"Thank you kindly, sir," Becky smiled.

"Now that my compadres are refreshed," the gourd went on, "do you happen to know how any place we can stay for the night?"

"Why, you can come to my family's boardinghouse, sir," Becky suggested. "We got a few vacancies, and we're serving chowder tonight."

Eliezer lifted his face, studying her. "And who's your family, Miss?"

"My father is Betheul," she answered, "son of Nahor and his wife, Millie."

Eliezer stood straight up. "Nahor?"

"Yes, sir."

He stared at her for a heartbeat before he whipped out a yellow notebook from his pocket. He flipped a few pages, scanning the contents.

"Nahor… You're Nahor's kin…"

Becky looked at him in surprise. "You've heard of us?"

"Why, yes," Eliezer said slowly, a grin starting to spread, "I have."

Becky didn't know why he whooped and threw his hat in the air, dancing along the train tracks.

"Yeeeeee-haaaaaaw!" he cheered. "God is good!"

Eliezer told Becky he would explain everything in due time, but he would like to meet her family as soon as possible. With Tom and Harry revived, they all followed Becky to a respectable boardinghouse down the street. Becky ran ahead, feeling in a daze.

Their home was a respectable Victorian house with bay windows which offered shelter for many railroad passengers, with food aplenty for both veggies and their animals. The porch had rocking chairs for patrons to watch the world go by, and their parlor was always impeccably clean and welcoming. As Becky neared, her brother, Leigh, emerged onto the porch with a rolled-up newspaper.

"What took ya so long, Becks? Cook's been in a fit about the chowder," he laughed, but he did a double take when he spied his sister's new earrings. "Where on earth did you get those fancy things?"

Becky grabbed her brother's collar and quickly whispered all that had transpired.

Leigh brightened. "Wicked!"

"They're coming up the street now," she told him. "You help them while I tell Papa we have some new guests."

Leigh used the newspaper to salute smartly before he leapt clear over the porch steps and charged down the street to the three gourds.

"Hello, blessed strangers!" he greeted the tired, but cheerful, travelers. "C'mon up to the house! We got clam chowder and whoopie pies, and rooms ready for you."

"Much obliged," said the smaller gourd as Leigh grabbed one of his bags.

Meanwhile, Becky had found her father in the parlor and told him what had happened. Papa, a zucchini, jumped to his feet and rang a bell for the servants to get ready for more guests.

The household set to work. A bath was drawn for the guests; the luggage was carried upstairs; Tom and Harry were given glasses of lemonade and (non-salty) snacks. Even Debbie, an old pear who had been Becky's nurse, pitched in to set the table.

When it was time for supper, all the family and their patrons gathered in the big dining room, and Leigh and Papa gave Eliezer an excellent spot near the head of the table, but the gourd would not eat after they said grace.

"I gotta say something first," he said solemnly.

"Speak on," was the answer.

Eliezer straightened in his chair; since he was a rounder fruit, this was the equivalent of him standing.

"I am Big Daddy Abe's servant," he said seriously.

Papa's eyes widened, before they shot to the fireplace. Above the mantle was an old photograph of a cucumber, taken in the early days of photography.

"That Big Daddy?" he whistled.

"The very same," Eliezer vouchsafed.

"Man," spoke up Leigh, "Big Daddy went out West before I was born!"

"And he's going to stay out there," Eliezer replied. "God gave him land and sheep, gold and silver, and lots of food. Now, he sent me to his hometown with an important job: to find his boy a wife."

At the other end of the table, Becky looked up.

Bethuel leaned back. "I thought his wife was barren?"

"She was," Eliezer said, "but God personally promised them a child in their old age, and that was Master Ike. The boss now wants to make sure his kid settles down."

Becky's cheeks grew warm.

"Big Daddy even made me promise to find a lady among Haran's or Nahor's grandkids," Eliezer went on, "but if she didn't want to come, then I'd be free from my oath. Anyway, I had no clue where to start looking once I got here. So I asked God to show me Master Ike's bride by having her offer to give Tom and Harry water until they stopped being thirsty" — he nodded to his two companions, who were busily slurping up clam chowder — "and immediately, and I mean immediately, Miss Becky here showed up, and y'all know the rest."

A stunned silence fell upon the table. Papa, Leigh, Debbie and the guests turned to gawk at Becky, who could not meet anyone's eyes.

"So," Eliezer said slowly, glancing from Becky to her father, "are you for or against? Either way, let me know, so that I know what to do next."

Papa opened his mouth several times before he could answer.

"If the Lord is in this, how can I say yes or no?" he said slowly. "Becky is old enough to get hitched. She has my blessing."

Tom and Harry promptly cheered.

"Woo-hoo! The nice lady is gonna be Master Ike's wife!" Tom cried.

Eliezer turned to beam at Becky, but he stopped when he saw her stunned face.

"Hey, Miss Becky," he said slowly, "aren't you gonna say something? A yes or a no?"

Becky gripped her napkin, blushing, but said nothing, still processing what she had just heard.

"Do you wanna go, Becks?" Leigh asked, studying her face. "You'll be marrying a rich guy who was a miracle baby. Eliezer finding you was clearly ordained, right? You're probably gonna be happy."

"It's your choice though," Eliezer said quickly. "If you wanna stay with your family, I'll hop right on the next train, and you'll never see me again."

Becky swallowed, mulling it over. It was phenomenal, unheard of. How could she really know this Eliezer was telling the truth? How did she know this Ike guy was a good man, or actually the son of Big Daddy?

Yet even as Becky pondered these questions, she knew, deep down in her heart, there was truth in Eliezer's words. It was something she could not fully explain, but she could discern, somehow, that Eliezer really meant something good for her, and that something good came from God.

"Well," Becky said slowly, "if Mr. Ike is truly the man God intends for me to marry, then there can't be any better match for me. …Right?"

"Right, baby," her father assured her.

Becky drew in a breath to calm her stomach, squared her shoulders, and gave herself a little nod.

"Then I'll go."

A/N: A two shot for this one :) Thanks for reading the first part

I might someday do a story about Little Joe and Natalie meeting at the box social. We'll see how it goes.

Big Daddy — In Golden Girls, Blanche's father is called Big Daddy, which seemed to fit for a Western version of Abraham.

Spinachusetts — This is one of the locations in Beauty and the Beet. While 'Little Joe' and 'Moe' both reference real American locations, I wanted to have wiggle room for artistic license. (Granted, the VT version of the Painted Desert is a desert that's actually painted…)