Ariana thrust the bottom ridge of her palm into a huge wad of dough over and over again. Time was running out, and rather than making a decision, she continued to wallow in uncertainty. A week ago today she’d thought that all her decisions in life were cut-and-dried. Then as she and Quill tended to his Mamm, he had shared a list of ways to earn the money to go to closing.

A week ago, Ariana!

Yet she continued to waver, letting fear grip her as if the world might end if she did something that looked self-serving to her community. She hadn’t realized this scaredy-cat trait was a part of who she was. At least she’d cleaned houses a lot of this past week and had earned some money. Not nearly enough, but some. Susie staying Amish depended on her getting the café, but organizing a benefit would be costly. What if she lost more than she made?

What should I do, God?

She worked the bread dough, unable to connect with any of the conversations going on around her. The whole day had been sucked into a vortex of uncertainty and indecision. Now as the sun began to set, she was in the same room she’d been in since before sunrise—the kitchen. Three of her four sisters were with her, along with Salome’s daughters. The menfolk had eaten dinner and dispersed to do evening chores.

The built-in bookshelves lining the dining room walls held no books. She used the shelves to hold baked goods, and currently they were filled with rolls, croissants, and an array of breakfast breads. Right now the strongest aroma filling the home was that of raspberry, white-chocolate scones.

What was she going to do with all this food? Money was tight, and here she was baking as if she had a plan to earn money. If it were any time of the week except Saturday evening, she could package it to sell at the local dry-goods store. She’d done that before when she’d baked too much while working through an issue. But she’d been too busy all day trying to decide about the benefit to consider what to do with all the food she was making. The store would close soon, and everything would be stale by the time it reopened Monday.

Her well-established method of decision making hadn’t worked—not today and not all week.

It would help if her Mamm were here to talk to, but her parents had been gone more than they were home the last two weekends. When Mamm was here, she was…different. Distracted and distant. Clearly, Ariana wasn’t the only one with things on her mind.

“Would you look at this?” Fifteen-year-old Martha stood in front of an ironing board, moving a hot pressing iron over a prayer Kapp. She set the iron upright and removed the prayer Kapp from the board, frowning. “Never mind. I almost have the hang of tending to these.” She put the Kapp on the board again, pressing the iron against it.

Prayer Kapps were easy to rip, hard to keep clean, and difficult to iron correctly.

“I think it looks great,” Ariana said. “I would wear it to church.”

“Really?” Martha seemed unsure and hopeful at the same time.

All the sisters nodded while making encouraging comments.

Martha grinned. “If you say so…” She took it upstairs, and Ariana was sure she’d put it away until time to dress for a meeting.

“Aenti Ari.” Esther clutched her little fingers around the spindles of a kitchen chair and started shoving it toward the island. The sweet innocence of her spirit was easily seen in her eyes, but the angry scar on her face was her most prominent feature. “Kann Ich helfe?”

Her niece wanted to help, and once again today Ariana would let her. Even if anxiety had her heart shriveled and quaking, she wouldn’t turn down Esther. With the exception of a short nap, Esther had been Ariana’s shadow since sunrise almost twelve hours ago. But Salome had been up to tending to the baby during most of the day. “Ya. Ich lieb sell.” It was honest. Ariana loved for Esther to help, but it made hiding her mood a tougher job. She pinched off a small handful of dough and placed it on the counter in front of Esther.

Esther grinned. “Lieb du.”

Ariana kissed the top of her bare head. “I love you too.” Even though she was too distracted to feel much warm and fuzzy love for anyone right now, love’s virtue remained intact, with its thriving desire to be kind, encouraging, and protective. Moods changed as drastically as the seasons—summertime sunshine on good days and bitter cold winds on bad days. Thankfully, virtue held its ground no matter what.

Martha bounded down the stairs. “I finally got tending to a prayer Kapp right, and Mamm isn’t even here to see it. Doesn’t it feel odd for her and Daed to be gone so much lately? What are they up to?”

Susie rinsed another dinner dish and set it on the drying rack. “Mamm said they needed uninterrupted time to talk, days of it. Since that’s the case, we should be glad they’re going off by themselves to do it and not dragging us into the boring stuff.”

“I think it’s about time they got away by themselves some,” Salome said.

“Ya, I guess you’re right.” Martha picked up a wrinkled white shirt belonging to one of their brothers and put it on the pressing board. “They’ve had thirty-something years of young children. Now we are all finally in double digits.”

Susie put a hand on her hip. “Some are more of an idjit than others.”

“Huh?” Martha asked.

As Susie explained her quip exchanging the word idjit for digit, Salome poured a glass of lemonade while holding Katie Ann in one arm.

She walked over to Ariana and leaned her backside against the counter. “You and Rudy aren’t going out tonight?”

Ariana shook her head. Rudy was busy building things for her to sell at either a yard sale or a benefit. A very profitable yard sale might clear a thousand dollars, maybe two. A successful benefit, even one thrown together quickly, should be closer to four or five thousand—unless the Amish boycotted it.

“You okay?” Salome set the drink on the counter.

“Ya.” Ariana wasn’t willing to tell anyone else about the decision she needed to make. She had enough opinions already. Now it was between her and God. She hoped she would hear Him clearly on the matter before October first. Was she waiting on God, as the Word said, or was she simply wavering in indecision? “A better question is, how are you?”

Salome studied Esther’s scar. “I’m fine.”

But she wasn’t. Ariana saw grief and lostness in Salome’s eyes. Resentment had been shored up in her sister’s heart, and Ariana had no idea how to help her release it. Time and again Ariana had tried to find the right words, but none had penetrated Salome’s anger and hurt.

When the accident happened, the church leaders and community had pressured Salome to stick to the Old Ways of using a tried-and-true home remedy specifically for burns on Esther. Emanuel had sided with the community, and Salome had considered disobeying her husband and doing as the Englisch doctors wanted. They had recommended skin grafts for the sake of faster, less painful healing and minimal scarring. Part of Salome had wanted to take Esther to the hospital and follow the Englisch ways. But she had tempered her mother’s intuition, obeyed her husband’s wishes, and followed the Old Ways.

Ariana gestured toward Esther. “Don’t let her get too close to the edge of the chair, please.”

Salome moved into Ariana’s spot while she went to the oven and removed the lightly browned scones and then put a second batch into the oven.

Ariana returned to her dough, and Salome moved to the side. She had been assured that Esther would heal by using the poultices, but her daughter’s suffering had been unbearable, and the scarring was much worse than expected. Now, more than two years later, Salome had yet to forgive herself or those in the community who’d pressured her. She had confided in Ariana that Emanuel had asked for her forgiveness for siding with the community. It had taken months of effort, but Salome had forgiven him.

When the rest of the Amish sided with the church leaders in not doing skin grafts, Ariana had made herself stay neutral, aiming to encourage Salome in whatever her final decision was. Now Salome was working her way through anger and depression, and all Ariana knew to do was be a good sister.

The way Salome hovered, looking hesitant but needy, Ariana was sure something was bothering her. “What’s on your mind?” Ariana got a clean bowl out of the cabinet beneath her.

Salome shifted the newborn. “I hate to ask, but would you be willing to baby-sit for me and Emanuel tomorrow?”

She set the bowl on the counter. “Sure.”

“You would miss the singing tomorrow night.”

“Okay.” Ariana knew Rudy wouldn’t mind. He would be fine spending an evening here even if it meant playing with her nieces and nephews more than visiting with her.

Salome took another sip of her drink. “We had one of Emanuel’s sisters lined up to watch them, but that fell through. We’ll take Katie Ann with us, because there’s a possibility we’ll stay overnight. You know, maybe get a quiet visit with his aunt and uncle in Lancaster.”

“Sounds like a good plan.” How would she feel if she didn’t at least try to hold a benefit? There was no way to earn enough money without it, and then Susie would leave. At least if she tried to have one, she would know she did her absolute best. Maybe that would be more consoling than any efforts she made to keep the community from getting its feathers ruffled.

Salome nudged her shoulder. “You’re agreeing to things, and I’m not the least bit sure you’ve heard anything I’ve said.” With eyebrows raised at Ariana, Salome took a sip of her lemonade.

“I heard.” She flipped the dough over and pounded it. “Would you trust a suggestion made by Quill?”

Salome choked on the lemonade. “What? Why would you ask that?”

Ariana quickly filled in her sister about crossing paths with Quill again last Saturday and his opinions on how to earn the closing money.

“Oh.” Relief was evident in her voice.

“Surely you know better than to fear I would leave.”

Salome played with the condensation on the glass. “Ya, I know how you feel. You have more judgment than grace for those who leave…and I fear we will both live to regret that.”

The words stung. “Do I?”

Salome’s facial expression held an apology as she barely nodded. “Anyway, my alarm was only because I thought Quill might have confided things he shouldn’t have. Rumors have it that he’s always cared about you.”

Ariana paused. “He and Frieda ran off together, so why would anyone say he cared for me?” It was easy to believe that people had whispered for years about how much Ariana had cared for Quill, but she’d never imagined anyone thinking he had feelings for her.

“Because”—Salome put the baby on her shoulder and patted her back—“when he meets with those who are thinking about leaving the Amish, he asks about you.”

“How would you know that?”

Salome’s eyes widened. “I…I…heard that’s what he—”

“Look.” Susie pointed out the kitchen window. “Maybe you and Rudy have a date and you just don’t know it.”

“He’s here?” Ariana’s heart immediately felt lighter, and she looked through the window. “It is him.”

“You think I could be wrong?” Susie laughed. “What’s the matter with you, girl?”

Ariana removed the kitchen towel from her shoulder and looped it around the back of Susie’s neck. “Watch the scones and don’t let them burn. Can you manage it?”

Susie clutched her shoulders, a wry smile making her faint dimple show itself. “No.”

Ariana tugged on each end of the towel. “Do it anyway.” She hurried out the door and ran toward the hitching post near the barn. Out of breath, she rounded the carriage to the driver’s side and ran into Rudy.

He caught her, laughing. “Whoa.” He backed up, glancing at the house before he slid his hands around her waist and tugged her to the blind spot behind the rig. “Hey.” His soft, gentle voice was welcoming.

Despite her desire to be cautious, they were getting bolder with their feelings and their flirting. “What are you doing here?”

“I had to see you.”

“Did you?” Her heart raced, and a ton of pent-up anxieties began to melt. This was an unexpected perk to their relationship.

Their happenstance meeting yesterday afternoon in the parking lot of the fabric store had increased her feelings for him exponentially. His kindness about her desire to purchase the café wasn’t enough to do this to her heart. Her feelings came from who he was and who they were when together and apart.

He pulled her closer. “I would ask if you mind, but I think we’ve moved past that.”

“Definitely.”

His hands were strong and secure against her back, and she stopped resisting. He put his lips over hers, and she felt as if she could conquer her foe and win every battle. If this was what it meant to fall in love, she better understood the longing inside her to find a good man and build a big, beautiful family. The kiss grew deeper and more passionate by the moment.

She put her hands on his chest and pressed. He took his cue and put some distance between them.

There was a lot to be thankful for when it came to Rudy. He wasn’t like Barbie and Cilla’s cousin Nathaniel, and she was grateful he wasn’t like the one and only Quill. He wasn’t like any of the others she had dated, who were either cocky or closed off or temperamental or uninteresting.

Rudy leaned against the carriage. “I think we should get out of here for a bit.” He took her hand into his, playing with it as if distracted. “Thoughts?” The fire in his eyes was undeniable.

Feeling much the same way, she realized that Rudy had become like a drug or a strong drink as she’d heard them described—chasing away the cares that weighed on her and making her feel strong and capable. But getting away by themselves sounded dangerous. “As much as I like the idea, I think I’d better stay here and work. But if you would like to get out for a bit on your own, I’ll understand.”

He shook his head, eyes closed, as if he couldn’t believe how daft she was. “Suggesting that I go by myself is missing my point, ya?”

She leaned in and gazed into his eyes. “I didn’t miss anything, Rudy…except, perhaps, the opportunity to cross a line.”

He released her hand. “I won’t pretend I’m confused about what you’re saying.” He folded his arms. “It’s only going to get more difficult, isn’t it?”

Since Rudy could easily cause her disquiet to flee, it was going to be tougher than she’d ever imagined. The chemistry between them, the feelings that showed up out of nowhere, elated her as much as they scared her. “Ya.”

“I have a solution.”

“Ariana!” Susie called.

Rudy ran his thumb across her lips. “You should marry me.”

Marry him? She’d been so focused on the various dramas in her life—Berta getting sick, closing on the café, Susie wanting to leave the Amish, and Quill reentering her life—that she hadn’t been waiting on or expecting him to ask such a question anytime soon. But she wasn’t against the idea. “Think so?”

“I know so, not one doubt.”

She did like the idea. “I promised Susie I’d get the café up and running.”

“We will. Getting married doesn’t have to change any of that.”

His use of the word we worked its way deep into her heart, and fresh relief washed over her. “You are entirely too charming for my good.”

He laughed. “Me, charming?”

Susie’s footsteps grew louder against the gravel, and Rudy put space between him and Ariana. Susie came around the boxy gray rig, looking toward the barn. “Ariana?”

Rudy chuckled. “With observant folks like Susie around, we don’t need a blind spot in which to hide,” he whispered.

Ariana stepped away from the carriage. “Here.”

Susie turned, wide eyed. “What are you doing there?” Susie held up her hand. “Wait, I got it! Apparently your life isn’t a ‘perfect graveyard of buried hopes.’ ”

It was a line from a book they used to read as children. Fresh memories washed over Ariana, ones of boisterous giggles between sisters as they hid under the sheets with a flashlight to read past bedtime. Salome was the one who had started the tradition. As the eldest sister, she set the precedent by tucking them in bed, waiting for their parents to go to sleep, and then reading to them by flashlight when they were supposed to be asleep.

What fun they’d had as sisters growing up, all five of them, and Ariana was so grateful Susie was going to stay Amish. Ariana looped one arm through Rudy’s arm and one through Susie’s. “Have I told you how happy I am that you’re staying Amish?”

“Sort of, ya.” Susie patted Ariana’s arm. “But sometimes you say it as if I was making plans to steal away or something.”

Ariana stopped cold, pulling Rudy and Susie backward. “You didn’t have plans with Quill to leave?”

“Quill?” Susie seemed confused. “Until last Saturday I hadn’t seen or spoken to him since he left years ago.”

“But he walked you to your rig. It looked like you were picking up on a recent conversation.”

“That wasn’t what was happening, Ari. I was scared and confused. He saw that and calmed me down. When he did, I was able to do as you’d told me.”

That was Quill’s mode of operation—read a person and know just what needed to be said. She’d come to detest that about him.

If Susie wasn’t the one planning to leave, who was it?

“When he meets with those who are thinking about leaving the Amish, he asks about you.” Salome’s soft voice rang an alarm in Ariana’s heart.

But Salome couldn’t be the sister leaving. She needed her family far more than most young women. Ariana’s mind spun. Dozens of conversations she’d had with each sibling over the last few weeks hung in front of her like a word collage. Only Salome’s words stood out.

“You have more judgment than grace for those who leave…and I fear we will both live to regret that.”

Ariana’s heart clenched, and she ran toward the house.