Cara washed the supper dishes while Lori dried them and passed each item to Deborah to put away. Ada stood inside the walk-in pantry, going over the list of tomorrow’s baked goods and matching that against the ingredients.
The bishop had come to see her last night, and she was bursting with news to tell Ephraim. It’d only been three weeks since the bishop had visited on Labor Day, and yet he’d been back to tell her good things.
Deborah placed a dish in the cabinet. “I miss Ephraim being here tonight. He hasn’t skipped a day of coming since Labor Day.”
“I know. All of us going to the top of the mountain and stargazing every night has been so great I feel spoiled.” Cara barely wiped her wet hand against her black apron before she tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear. Even with a hair net, pins, and a prayer Kapp, her short hair found its way free.
“Don’t think I’m climbing that mountain again tonight.” From inside the pantry, Ada half griped and half laughed the words. “Where is he, anyway?”
Cara rinsed a glass. “He’s working late, something about hardware for a set of cabinets didn’t come in on time. I’m a bit tempted to just show up and help him. Anyone up for the drive to Dry Lake?”
Deborah took a plate from Lori. “I need to visit Daed. Ada, you want to ride with us?”
She stepped out of the pantry. “I told Lori I’d teach her how to sew some doll clothes tonight.”
“We’re gonna make my doll an Amish dress just like mine.”
Deborah put the last item in the cabinet. “Ephraim will be surprised to see you in Dry Lake. I was beginning to think it’d be six months before you crossed that border.”
“Ephraim says I’m stubborn. Sometimes I think he’s right.”
Ada dropped her list and mocked complete shock. “You? He had to be mistaken.”
Deborah pulled her lips in, trying not to laugh. “I’ll go pack to stay at Daed’s for the night. You can share my clothes and my bedroom. You get the horse hitched.”
“We’re going and staying the night?”
“It’ll be good for you. You need some time around Daed and Becca.”
Cara dried her hands and tossed the towel into the dish drainer. “I guess. I mean, if you say so.”
Deborah put her arm around Cara and hugged her. “You and Lori have family and friends in Dry Lake. Get used to it.” Deborah smiled, but tears brimmed. “Go get ready. Ephraim will love being surprised. You do know none of us have ever seen Ephraim so… well… I’ve never seen him even slightly crazy about anyone. I always figured it was just who he was—unable to care passionately about anyone.”
Lori grabbed Ada’s notepad off the floor. “He loves me and Mom.”
Cara’s heart startled, and she looked to Deborah and then to Ada. “He said that?”
“Yeah,” Lori said. “And he hopes we’ll be a family someday. But he doesn’t think you’re ready to talk about that yet.”
Cara chuckled. “I guess I better keep you around, kiddo, so you can keep me posted on things.”
Lori helped Cara hitch the horse to the buggy. Her daughter and Ada waved as Cara and Deborah drove out of sight. It was freeing to have people in Lori’s life that she fully trusted. She asked Deborah a dozen things about the Amish lifestyle as they spent more than an hour getting to Dry Lake—things like how a preacher, deacon, or bishop was chosen, how the Amish always seemed to find work among their own, why some of the younger girls wore the aprons and some didn’t. Soon they were nearing Levina’s old place.
“Hey, Deb, why don’t you let me off here at the conjoined trees?”
“Okay.” Deborah pulled the buggy to a stop. “But whatever you do, don’t go to my brother’s place and fall asleep.”
“Very funny. Just tell him someone’s hanging around the barn with a batch of puppies. That’ll make him head this way.”
“It could make him run for the hills.”
“Then I’ll be in that tree waiting all night.” She jumped down from the buggy and ran to the tree. A dozen memories flooded her as Deborah drove off. Wishing she had on jeans, she managed to climb it, then she rocked back against the trunk and waited.
Ephraim glanced up from the wood in front of him, catching another glimpse of his sister. She looked better every time he saw her. He wasn’t naive enough to think the grief was totally behind her, but it didn’t own all of her anymore. Cara had been very good for her. A little of her New York, in-your-face toughness could go a long way in helping someone like his sister.
Deborah stood in the doorway of the shop. “You need to go to Levina’s barn.” She’d said the same thing a few minutes ago. He ran the plane across the flat surface, removing a bit of wood. “I’m busy.”
His sister huffed. “If it wasn’t important, I wouldn’t have mentioned it.”
Her tone startled him, and he laughed. “I do believe I just heard Cara in your voice.”
“Ya, I think you did. G’night, Ephraim.” The screen door to the shop slapped loudly as his sister left.
He drew a deep breath and set the tools in their place. Maybe he should check out what was going on at the barn. Walking through the dried cornfield, he thought of the first time he’d met Cara. If she’d lived in Dry Lake as she should have, they’d have married years ago. He probably wouldn’t have courted anyone else. She spoke to his soul like no other. They fit.
The more time they had together, the more time they wanted. And he knew it’d be that way for the rest of their lives.
As he came out of the edge of the cornfield, he saw movement in the tree.
“A girl could spend a lot of time up here waiting for you to come by.”
His heart filled with pleasure as he stepped forward. “It’s almost too dark to see you, and I started not to come this way at all, but like my Daadi always said, even a blind squirrel can find a nut every once in awhile.”
“Are you calling me a nut, Ephraim?”
He moved closer. “What are you doing up there?”
“Waiting for you.”
He propped the palm of his hand against the trunk. “I’m here. Are you coming down?”
“Nope. I have things I want to know first.”
“Like how hard you’ll hit the ground if you fall out of that tree?” Wondering if she had any idea what she’d done to his heart, he leaned back against the tree. “Fire away.”
“I’ll be allowed to go through instructions this spring.”
“Really? The bishop said that?”
“Yep. You know what that means, right?”
“Ya. You’ll be a member of the Old Order Amish faith come summer.”
“That too.”
“Too?”
“As in also. Meaning not the main thing.”
“So what’s the main thing, Cara?”
She shifted her body until her stomach was on the branch. As she clung to the thick branch and lowered herself toward the ground, Ephraim wrapped his hands around her waist and helped her make a soft landing.
They stood face to face, but he couldn’t find any words.
Sliding her fingertips against the palm of his hand, she leaned against the tree. “That you can marry me next fall, or technically winter if we choose to wait that long.”
Ephraim wanted to ignore prudence and kiss her, but he forced himself to think logically. “I know you’re aware most Amish have large families, but have we discussed the fact that the Amish allow God to choose how many children they’ll have? That’s usually a breaking point for those who’ve been raised as Englischers.”
“Are you trying to talk me out of a marriage proposal you haven’t even given?”
Soft laughter rose within him. “You’re something else, Cara Moore. And I want nothing but more time with you and more of your heart. But you’ve got to understand some things.”
“I understand. You hope to get lucky often enough to have lots of children, and you’re trying to make sure I agree to that now.”
“You know what I really think?”
“No, but I bet you’re going to tell me.”
He placed one hand on her waist. “I think you’re in love with me.”
“You think? You mean you don’t know?”
Could his heart beat any faster? “I hoped.”
“You’ll still have to wait like thirteen or so months from now.” She pointed a finger at him. “But you will wait for me.”
He cupped her face in his hands. “And why would I do that?”
“Because you’re in love with me.”
He brought his lips to hers, feeling the power of things he’d always hoped for. “I am. You’re absolutely right about that. I think maybe I always have been, so waiting until the next wedding season isn’t all that bad.”