ON TUESDAY, FERN SAW HER AENTI OFF WITH LITTLE regret, then returned to her garden. The zucchini were running wild, and she picked thirteen of them and carried them to the back door in a small wheelbarrow. She decided she’d make zucchini bread to take to Abram and the kinner. She was still a bit nervous about going to his house unannounced, but supposed a bold step here or there wouldn’t hurt.
She went into the house and was struck by the sense of emptiness now that her aenti had left. It seemed that even plunking the zucchini on the table made a disheartening thud. She was relieved when she heard a buggy pull up.
She went out onto the porch and was glad to see Eve Bender step down from the buggy.
“Thought you could use a bit of company.”
“I’d love nothing more,” Fern said with a smile.
She let her friend into the kitchen, and Eve glanced at the zucchini. “Going to make bread? I can help.”
“Ya, if you’d like. I-I’m making it for Abram Fisher and his family.”
Eve gave her a conspiratorial grin. “So the prettiest girl I know has managed to snag the attention of the beautiful but remote Abram Fisher. Are you going to tell me the story?”
Fern felt herself blush. “I don’t know what to say. I don’t really know how to handle a man’s attention, as you call it. And I didn’t snag him . . . at least, I don’t think so.”
Eve laughed as she deftly peeled the zucchini. “The most important thing to know about courting and marriage, my friend, is that your life is not his life.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s good for you to have all this.” Eve gestured with one arm to encircle the herbs and the kitchen. “This is you. Abram has his land too. Now you may find a way to bring those two pieces together somehow, to serve each other and the community—but to know yourself first is the most important thing.”
“So it’s like two wholes make a stronger whole?”
“I believe so.”
Fern sliced the zucchini thoughtfully. Her friend’s simple words touched her and made her consider once more how grateful she was for her grandmother’s influence in her life.
“Danki, Eve,” she said quietly.
Her friend leaned over to hug her close. “My pleasure.”
Abram saw Fern coming down the lane with a basket over her arm and made haste to douse his face and hands with fresh water. He’d been cleaning stalls and looked a mess, but there was no help for it. The children saw her coming too and ran out to greet her, laughing and talking. Abram hung back, watching her face light up with a bright smile.
“I brought some zucchini bread. I hope it’s all right that I came by.” She sounded shy, and Abram was surprised.
“Come over anytime. I’ve been working around here and wanted to give you some time to be with your aenti.”
Fern giggled at his dour face. “She went home.”
“Ach . . . well . . . nice.”
“Can we have some bread now, Fern?” Mark asked, jumping up and down.
“Of course.”
Abram led her into the relatively clean kitchen and fetched a knife and plates and the crock of butter. Fern doled out generous slices, and the children were quiet as they sat at the table.
“Would you like some?” she asked Abram. He shook his head and grabbed her hand instead.
“Nee, let’s go out on the porch and sit a bit. And you kinner can have seconds.”
He was pleased with the look of happiness that shone on Fern’s face at his suggestion. He led her out the door and onto the porch swing. “Sorry about the coveralls,” he said, ruefully brushing away some stray flecks of hay.
“I like them.”
He glanced at her sideways. “Really?”
She nodded. “I guess I like anything you wear.”
He caught her hand in his. “Fern Zook, you know how to talk to turn a man’s head.”
She shrugged. “It’s just the truth.”
He leaned closer to her, breathing in her fresh scent, and placed gentle lips to the bare skin of her neck. He felt her shiver in response, and she turned to look at him. There was both innocent invitation and desire in the depths of her green eyes. He was half-afraid of being interrupted, but he moved his mouth closer to hers, then softly kissed her full on the lips.
“That—that was wonderful,” he managed, half-laughing with the joy of the kiss. He looked at her anxiously then. “Was it wonderful?”
“Ya,” she said. “I wish—”
“Abram, I wanna give Fern a present.”
It was Mary, holding something close in her arms, and Abram could only be grateful that he’d actually gotten one kiss in. He couldn’t wait until his parents came home. “What’s the present?” he asked, faintly anxious that it wouldn’t be something odd or disgusting.
“Well, you know Sparkle had her babies a few weeks ago . . . I thought I’d let Fern have Mayflower so she won’t be alone since her mammi died.” Mary lifted the dish towel from her arm to reveal a beautiful soft gray kitten with a white chin and bright green eyes.
When Fern cried out in pleasure, Abram wished he’d thought of the gift himself.
“Ach, you darling! Danki, Mary. You are so right. Now I won’t have to be alone. And I love her name . . . Mayflower.” Fern cradled the animal to her breast and smiled at Abram. “Isn’t she beautiful?”
He looked deep and meaningfully into her eyes. “Yes, she surely is.”
A little later Fern walked home, barely noticing the summer storm clouds gathering as she stared down with pleasure at her new companion. She was traipsing through the field when suddenly there was the loud sound of cracking wood, and the ground gave way beneath her feet.