“Prob’ly not.” But truly, there were times Harley wondered what it would be like to be free from milking twice a day so he could take Mimi on a vacation, especially in the dead of winter—somewhere warm like Pinecraft, Florida, where some Amish folk went for months on end. Amish snowbirds.
Abram removed his knit black hat and placed it on his knee. “Surely you’re thinkin’ along the same lines as this ol’ man.”
“Some days more than others, jah.”
Abram raised his eyes to look at Harley. “Eli ain’t talkin’ like this, is he, ’bout getting out of the dairy business?”
“Nee, says it’s the life for him.”
Abram nodded slowly. “I daresay you’re mighty lucky.”
“Well, I am thankful, that’s for certain,” Harley said as one of the nearby mules brayed loudly.
He laughed, and when Abram invited him to stay for coffee and some of the birthday pound cake, Harley said, “I thought you’d never ask!”
When the mail came Wednesday afternoon, Lena had little hope of finding anything from Hans, given that the only correspondence she’d had since Christmas was his belated card and rather terse note. But she was excited when she spotted an envelope addressed to her from Emma. She pushed it into her coat pocket and rushed up the driveway, ready to get back inside, so biting was the cold.
In the house, she sought the privacy of the front room, where she sat right down on the daybed to read what her dear sister had written.
Dear Lena Rose,
How are you? I hope you’re keeping warmer there than we are here. It’s been a hard winter to be sure, but the hardest part is how it’s kept us apart. I miss you so much!
I wish I had some good news to share, but the truth is that things aren’t going so well here, and Wilbur’s urged me to write, since you deserve to know.
You see, Hans started attending Singings again this month, and he’s been showing attention to one particular girl. Well, that in itself isn’t good, but last time he gave her a ride home. It looks very much as if Hans is moving on without you, and wrong as it is to say, Wilbur and I both want to strangle him! How could he?
I’m awful sorry to have to break this to you, Lena Rose, although Wilbur and I really hope that Hans has written to tell you this himself. Surely he’ll assume that one of us would say something.
Lena pushed the letter aside and stared at the ceiling. She was surprised at how numb she felt—neither angry nor sad. She still had not gotten over the fact that Hans hadn’t offered to come to visit her, once the highways were plowed. The road goes both ways, she thought, suddenly recalling Emma’s concern about how Hans had set up their dates, simply telling Lena where to be and when. Even back in late August, Emma had somehow discerned that Hans was taking Lena for granted. Yet it was something that Lena Rose herself had never considered . . . till now. Were the miles between us more than he could handle?
Reaching for a quilted pillow, Lena pressed it against her. She replayed the discussion they’d had on the day he’d stopped by while she was packing. At the time, Hans had seemed sympathetic, agreeing that her coming here for a few months till something else opened up in Centreville was her only option. If she wasn’t mistaken, he had been relieved by the news that she wouldn’t be gone for too awful long.
Everything must’ve changed when I didn’t get home for Christmas, she decided, yet deep in her heart, she knew better. That couldn’t have been the sole reason, and Emma’s letter seemed to prove that.
While sewing that afternoon, Lena continued to think about Emma’s disquieting news. Now and then she found herself glancing across the long sewing table at Mimi, wondering if she might talk it over with this wise and caring woman.
At last, when Lena felt she might burst if she didn’t say something, Mimi put down her needle, leaned her elbows on the table, and looked right at her. “Somethin’s botherin’ ya, Lena. I can feel it clear over here.”
Giving a nod, Lena admitted, “Ya know me so well.” She finished a stitch, then sat back in her chair. “I’ve been tryin’ to be patient, waitin’ for a letter from my beau back home, since I know it’s what he’d expect. Honestly, I was thinkin’ he might propose while I was home for Christmas, but then I didn’t get back, and I’ve only had one note from him in more than a month.” Seeing how solemn Mimi’s face looked, Lena went on. “Truth be told, I’ve been holdin’ my breath for him to take the next step.”
“Well, of course,” Mimi replied, nodding her head. “Any girl in love wants to be pursued by her beau.”
“But now it seems he’s pursuing someone else.” Lena told about Emma’s letter.
Mimi tilted her head and frowned. “Ach, it’ll be his loss if he chooses another young woman. You care very much for him, don’t ya?”
Just the way Mimi said it made Lena feel all the more tenderhearted. “He’s the first fella I’ve seriously dated.”
“Well, dating is one thing, but cherishing someone is quite another,” Mimi said quietly. “Mind if I tell you a little ’bout Harley’s and my courtship?”
Lena listened as Mimi shared. “I was very shy at the time I started goin’ to Singings, but knowing I’d never dated didn’t scare away Harley. He wanted to make sure I felt comfortable with him, so he decided to approach Dat about his interest in me.” Mimi smiled and shook her head at the thought. “Harley never balked, not once, when my father laid out to him how old I had to be for serious courtin’—older than sixteen, mind you. Harley had to wait a whole year before he could take me out in his courting buggy.”
Lena was impressed by Harley’s willingness
