She wagged her head once. “No, he was chosen by lot. By the hand of God.”
I resisted smirking. Silas didn’t look like any minister I’d ever seen. And he was chosen by random chance?
“Maybe that’s how childless widows act.” Nancy scanned the room, I assumed to make sure we were still alone. She lowered her volume. “I can’t let that happen to me.” She cupped her hand around her mouth and whispered, “If you’d really like to give me a Christmas gift, then please let me come with you and Isaac tomorrow.”
I grinned. The way she said his name, like it was a chunk of Milky Way melting in her mouth, told me she was sweet on him, which I’d guessed earlier. He hadn’t seemed to pay her much attention, but maybe that was an act for me and her parents. I hoped.
Nancy straightened one of the napkins and seemed pleased with how festive the table looked. “I guess I’ll be turning in, too. Did my Mamm show you that the bathroom is across the hall from your room?”
“Great.”
Nancy escorted me to the bedroom, where I found a clean and pressed nightgown and bathrobe on the bed. A moment later, she slipped out the door, and I was left alone in a frigid bedroom with green shades. Why hadn’t I brought along reading material? What was I to do with no TV? I took out my cell phone but realized there was no one I wanted to speak to. It needed to be charged anyway, and I didn’t want to use up its remaining juice since there was nowhere to charge it.
The room was too cold for me to unpack my suitcase, and besides, I’d be leaving in the morning if the snow let up. In fast-forward I undressed and snuggled into the nightgown and bathrobe. The sheets were cold but soft and carried with them the aroma only line-dried sheets could. When I pulled the quilt up around my neck, they warmed quickly.
I glanced at the bedstand and saw a black-and-white magazine called Family Life. As if there would be anything in there for me. I had no family and no life. But out of sheer boredom I opened it to the first page and started reading well-written letters to the editor. Several were more interesting than I’d expected, but my lids drooped. I felt drained. I figured most of my fatigue came from the aching in my heart. And yet I felt comforted by this lumpy mattress and quilt.
During the night, in the depths of my dreams, my mind explored the possibility of meeting my real mother. Why go to all that trouble to meet someone who didn’t even care about me enough to track me down herself? My whole existence now seemed to pivot around the fact that she’d abandoned me. Hey, who was I trying to kid? Of course, I wanted to meet her.
The what-ifs and could-have-beens melted away like an ice cube in a cup of warm tea. In what seemed like a moment, I awoke refreshed. The smell of breakfast wafted under the door, telling me someone had made coffee and was preparing eggs and bacon. And corn bread. Yum.
I clambered to my feet and showered in lovely warm water, then dug through my suitcase. None of my clothes seemed appropriate, since the Miller women all wore dresses, black aprons, and white head coverings. I let out a sigh. Nothing to be done about it now, so I grabbed a pair of jeans, a long-sleeved T-shirt, and a fleece vest. Wearing the slippers Naomi had lent me, I headed for the kitchen. I was suddenly starving again, even after that delicious supper.
Passing through the living room, I slowed to look out the window at the ocean of white snow sparkling like lavender- and peach-colored diamonds in the brilliance of the sunrise.
Bart wasn’t sleeping on the couch, and the blankets were folded. The door from the living room to the kitchen was shut, but I opened it and entered. Naomi stood at the stove turning bacon, with Nancy at her elbow, scrambling eggs.
“Good morning, dear.” Naomi placed the bacon on a plate and set it on the table. “I’m sorry if we woke you.”
“This house smells so scrumptious I couldn’t resist getting up.” I glanced over to Nancy, who looked exhausted and had dark rings under her eyes.
“Silas is still out in the barn. Bart and Anna are helping him. They’ll be in any moment.” She glanced at Nancy and asked, “Why are you so long in the face?”
Nancy stifled a yawn just as Anna plodded through the back door. “Ach, why do I always have to go out and help Dat with the milking?”
“You’re so good at it.” Naomi sent her a sly smile. “You want me to ask one of your brothers to leave his family in Ohio and come home to help?”
“But it’s so cold out there. My fingers are like icicles.” Anna rubbed her hands together.
“Then you’d better not marry a farmer.” Naomi’s voice was upbeat. I figured she was teasing Anna, not that I understood what the joke was about. After all, who would want to be a farmer’s wife? Especially an Amish farmer. I felt sorry for Naomi, for all her strenuous work. And yet she seemed content, perhaps even delighted to be living in this big old farmhouse without electricity. I couldn’t live without it, that’s for sure, which reminded me of my cell phone. How and when would I get it charged?
“I’m glad Bart decided to spend the night and then stay.” A smile bloomed on Naomi’s face. “In truth, he didn’t have much choice. Ach, his clothes were so filthy I put them in the wash immediately. Then I climbed up to the attic and sorted through our sons’ old clothes until I found things that fit. He had to dress Amish today, much to his displeasure. At least he has his knit beanie.”
Anna tittered. “He
