Trina waited until she was sure Seth had left before she emerged from her room, slamming the door behind her. Who did he think he was, acting as if she’d committed a crime by meeting with her father? And who did he think she was to suggest she didn’t want to let go of her Englisch life? She circled the parlor, ranting aloud, “If I wanted to hold on to my Englisch life, I wouldn’t have forfeited a half a million dollar sale in order to stay here!”
Her anger gave her a surge of energy. She pulled a sack of flour from the pantry and yeast from the fridge and began making bread. Nothing ever felt as good as kneading the dough hard and punching it down. She made four loaves in succession while flashes of lightning illuminated the sky and thunder raged outside as tempestuously as she did.
She realized she was sick and tired of trying to prove herself to Seth. She was almost grateful he’d said such awful things because it showed her he wasn’t going to change. What good would it do for him to trust her after she’d become Amish? That wasn’t trust; that was proof. She wanted him to trust her now, before she converted. She wanted him to have faith in the best, not to always suspect the worst.
And what about him keeping his word? He’d said he’d support her however he could during her convincement process. What hypocrisy! He accused her of being like her father, but he was more like Richard Smith than she’d ever be. She was crushed to discover he was like every man who’d ever left her when she most needed help, and suddenly her anger completely fizzled out, leaving her feeling dejected and alone. Desperate for consolation, she read and reread the letters her mother sent Abe until the accounts of happier times soothed her heartache enough that she could finally go to sleep.
The next day, when Timothy and Tanner knocked on the door, Trina pushed her lips into a smile to conceal the sadness that had returned. “Hello, buwe. Did you kumme over here alone?”
“Jah. Fannie said we had to scamper quickly. She’s waiting over there.” Timothy turned and pointed to Fannie, who was standing out of the rain beneath a willow in the Helmuths’ yard. Why wasn’t she accompanying the boys? Was she afraid she’d become tainted by visiting someone who was still an Englischer? Trina took a small measure of satisfaction in lifting her hand in a friendly wave, but Fannie just looked at her shoes.
“Would you like to kumme in?” she asked the boys. “I made sweet bread last night.”
“Neh, Daed said we’re not allowed,” Tanner said. “But Fannie told us we have to visit you this one time.”
Trina suppressed a gasp, outraged that Seth was using the boys to take out his anger at her. “Why did Fannie want you to kumme here?”
“We’re supposed to tell you Groossmammi can’t visit you today. Her head is splitting,” Tanner reported.
“Oh, dear, do you mean she has a splitting koppweh?”
“Jah. And Daed’s getting a blue face.”
“A what?” Trina didn’t think she’d heard correctly.
Timothy said, “Groossmammi told Daed he could talk about it until his face turns blue but she wasn’t changing her mind. And Daed said he wasn’t changing his mind, either. He said he couldn’t stop Groossmammi from visiting you but he could stop his buwe from visiting you.”
“And Groossmammi cried and went to her room because of her head splitting,” Tanner added. Scrunching his nose, he asked, “Will it hurt when Daed’s face turns blue?”
For the boys’ sake, Trina fought to keep her ire at Seth in check. “I don’t think your daed’s face is really going to turn blue,” she explained carefully. “Sometimes people use funny words called idioms but the words aren’t really what they mean. Like if I say yesterday it rained cats and dogs, there weren’t really cats and dogs falling from the sky. I just mean it rained hard.”
“Like when Fannie told Daed he was as strong as an ox she didn’t mean it? Because an ox is really strong and Daed is really strong but Daed can’t pull a plough.”
It just figures Fannie would appeal to Seth’s masculinity like that, Trina thought. To Tanner she said, “Exactly like that. So don’t you worry about your daed. What you ought to do is be especially kind to your groossmammi today. Can you do that?”
“Jah,” the boys readily agreed, as Trina knew they would. She ducked into the kitchen, slipped two loaves of bread into separate bags and returned to hand one to each of them.
“Timothy can carry the cinnamon-raisin bread and, Tanner, you carry this sweet bread. If Fannie says it’s okay, you may have a piece. And guess what? It’s not even tough like carrion!”
Pleased she’d elicited a smile from the boys’ serious faces, she kissed their heads and sent them off with a reminder to tell Martha she’d see her when she was feeling better. The boys darted back to Fannie, who was already walking toward the Helmuths’ house.
Trina couldn’t help worrying about Martha’s health. Whether her headaches had increased because of her vision problem or because of her “nanny problem,” it seemed she’d benefit from a visit to the doctor. But if I suggest that again, Seth will just tell her it’s because I haven’t let go of my Englisch ways, Trina thought bitterly.
Knowing she needed to improve her German comprehension as well as her attitude, Trina sat down, picked up her Bible and began reading until there was a break in the rain. Then she walked into town to do her shopping and inquire about summer employment. She had to take the long way, avoiding both Meadow Road and the path along the creek because of the flooding, but she felt so listless she didn’t mind. After picking up her groceries, she stopped at Schrock’s Shop to ask about a job.
Joseph told her he didn’t have any openings right then, but in another month he might need extra help, since so many tourists came through town once school let out. Before Trina left he asked if Meadow Road was still flooded. When she confirmed it was, he sympathized because her section of Willow Creek was cut off to traffic on three sides. To Trina, it hardly mattered since she traveled by foot, not by buggy. Also, now there was less of a chance that her father would return. Not that she expected him to.
The sky began pouring again on her way home and she was drenched by the time she reached her door. She was bending to unlace her shoes when she thought she heard her name being called from a distance. She straightened her spine, listening.
“Trina!” That was definitely Tanner outside her door. She flung it open. His face was bright red and he was panting.
Crouching down, she placed her hands on his shoulders. “Take a deep breath and then tell me what happened.”
“Timothy fell off his bicycle in the basement. He was going real fast around a corner and his bike tipped and he went flying through the air and he landed like this,” Tanner said, gesturing with his hands. “Fannie is crying and Groossmammi wants you to kumme.”
Although her heart was drumming in her ears, Trina had the presence of mind to grab her cell phone before she ran across the yard and into the house with Tanner. When they reached the bottom of the basement stairs, she found Martha and Fannie kneeling beside Timothy, who was lying on the floor, moaning. As Trina leaned closer, she noticed his arm was swollen and positioned oddly.
“It’s broken—his arm is broken!” Fannie seemed nearly hysterical. “And he might have a concussion, too!”
Under her breath, Trina hissed, “Shh! Calm down and don’t move him.” If Timothy had a head or neck injury, Trina didn’t want to splint his arm. She quietly asked Timothy if he’d hit his head, but he didn’t answer, so she gingerly parted his blond curls to examine his skull. There was no blood, but a large egg was already forming on the right side.
She quickly pulled her phone out of her pocket. She’d gladly suffer any consequences or shaming remarks from Seth for using her cell phone: Timothy’s health was more important to her than anything else at that moment. She tapped in 911.
When the operator came on the line, Trina described their emergency. The operator said they’d dispatch an ambulance, but it might take a while for it to get there because of the flooding. He asked if there was anyone nearby with a car who could reach them quicker and bring Timothy to the hospital. Trina said no before suddenly remembering Ethan. The dispatcher wanted to stay on the line with her, so after Trina gave him Ethan’s number, he told another dispatcher to contact Ethan, who confirmed he’d be there as soon as possible. Once Martha heard help was on the way, she stopped ringing her hands and pressed them together, praying, “Denki, Lord!” and Trina inwardly echoed her gratitude to God.
She instructed, “Tanner, I’d like you to lead your groossmammi upstairs by the hand and let Dr. Gray in when he arrives. Fannie, bring me a quilt to keep Timothy warm.” Fannie looked so peaked Trina was afraid she might pass out, so in what she hoped was a convincing voice she added, “Timothy’s going to be okay, Fannie. Really, he will.”
As the others clambered up the stairs, Trina cooed to the boy, “I know it hurts but you’re doing great. Could you say your name so I know you’re okay?” When he continued to moan without answering her, she asked, “What’s the fiercest animal you can think of right now?”
“A shark,” he mumbled, to her relief. In order to keep him awake and to prepare him for what would happen at the hospital, she told him a story about a shark that broke its fin. “The fish doctor said the shark needed to get an X-ray, which is what you’ll probably get and it won’t hurt at all. An X-ray is like a drawing of the bones on the inside of your skin.”
Without opening his eyes, Timothy argued, “But sharks don’t have bones. They have cartilage.”
Trina could have wept for joy at his remark—clearly his brain was functioning just fine! A few minutes later Ethan arrived and evaluated Timothy’s pupils, head, neck and spine, and then made a temporary splint to immobilize his arm and lifted him up.
“Instead of waiting for the ambulance, it’ll be quicker for us to take him to the hospital. They’ll need to set his arm, which might involve surgery, depending on the fracture. We’ll have to take West Street to avoid the flooded areas. When we pass through town we can pick up Seth since we’ll need his permission to treat Timothy.”
When they got to Main Street, Ethan pulled over in front of Seth’s shop and left the car running as he dashed into the store. A few moments later, three Englisch shoppers spilled onto on the sidewalk and Seth and Ethan followed closely behind.
Seth slid into the back seat with Trina and Timothy, careful not to jostle his son. “Please, Gott, ease Timothy’s pain and keep him well,” he prayed aloud. Timothy’s eyes briefly fluttered open at the sound of Seth’s voice before closing again.
Seeing Seth’s affliction, Trina wanted to comfort him. No matter how angry she’d been, she wouldn’t wish the kind of distress he was experiencing on anyone. But she was deeply shaken, too, and her addled mind couldn’t come up with anything encouraging to say. She remained silent until Ethan pulled into the emergency entrance area. They were met by two staff members with a gurney who eased Timothy out of the back seat. Seth and Ethan followed them inside, while Trina drove the car to the parking lot, her hands trembling on the steering wheel.
Seth felt as if he had rocks in his gut as the hospital staff wheeled his son away. Before Ethan joined them, he assured Seth that Timothy would be in good hands. After filling out the necessary paperwork at the front desk, Seth paced the hallway, too distraught to sit with the others in the main waiting room. He silently pleaded with the Lord to keep close watch on Timothy. His prayers quickly turned into self-admonishment. How could he have been so irresponsible as to let Fannie watch the boys after what had happened the day she was alone with them by the creek?
Timothy’s suffering was his fault and Seth wished he could take his son’s place. For the first time in a long while, he thought of Eleanor. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, leaning his head against the wall. All she had asked of him was, if he remarried, to choose a woman who would take good care of the boys. He hadn’t even found a nanny who would take good care of them. Other than Trina, that was. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered again.
A hand rested flat against his back. “Seth?” It was Trina and her hair was dripping wet. He’d been too distraught to notice if she’d been wet in the car on the way, but for a moment his mind flashed to the Sunday when he’d first courted Fannie and he’d picked Trina up on the roadside. He wished he could turn the clock back to that day. He would have trusted his initial perspective that he and Fannie weren’t a match.
“Let’s sit.” Trina motioned to a backless wooden bench farther down the hall. “It’s quieter there, so we can pray.”
But Seth couldn’t form any words, so Trina petitioned the Lord on his behalf. They sat with their heads bowed for what seemed like hours until finally Ethan came to tell them Timothy was going to be fine. He said the fracture was an ugly one but it didn’t require surgery. However, the doctors wanted to keep him overnight because of the swelling. After it subsided, they’d cast his arm. The really great news was that he didn’t appear to have a concussion.
“Denki, Lord! Denki!” Seth exclaimed, looking heavenward as a few tears streamed from his eyes down his cheeks and into his sideburns. “Is Timothy awake? May I see him?”
“He’s groggy from the medication they gave him before setting the bone but you can go in,” Ethan replied. “Sorry, Trina, it’s family only until they transfer him to a room.”
Whatever Trina might have said in reply, Seth didn’t hear it. All he could focus on was seeing his son. Tears again sprang from his eyes when he viewed Timothy’s small form reclining on the white bed. He hurried to his child’s side and kissed the top of his head, but Timothy was too drowsy to stir. As the nurse was making arrangements to secure a room for him in the pediatric wing, Seth returned to the hall where Ethan and Trina had been.
Finding Ethan there alone, he asked, “Where’s Trina?”
“She’s driving back to your house to tell your groossmammi Timothy is going to be okay. Then she’ll return with a few things for you, since she figured you’ll probably want to stay overnight with him here. She’ll pick me up then, too.”
Seth felt horrible. After all of the cruel things he’d said to Trina, she was repaying him with kindness. Seth was indebted to Ethan, too. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am for your medical expertise,” he told him.
Ethan clasped his shoulder. “I’m blessed the Lord enabled me to study medicine and gave me an aptitude for it,” he said. “But all of my knowledge wouldn’t have done much good if Trina hadn’t had the 911 dispatcher call me as soon as she did. If they had contacted me even ten minutes later, I wouldn’t have made it to your house because my road was flooding over. I had to drive through about eight inches of standing water as it was.”
It dawned on Seth that since the phone shanty was on a road flooded by the creek, the only way Trina could have called 911 was by using her cell phone. He shuddered, thinking what could have happened. “She’s been a blessing to my family in more ways than one,” Seth told Ethan. Now he hoped he could find a way to express his appreciation to Trina—if she was even willing to talk to him. She’d been awfully quiet on the ride to the hospital, although Seth figured it was because she was worried about Timothy, too. He didn’t think she could have been any more concerned if Timothy had been her own child.
By the time Trina returned to the hospital and located Seth in the pediatric wing, Ethan had gone to check on a patient who happened to have been admitted that day, too, and Seth was walking back to Timothy’s new room after buying a coffee in the cafeteria.
Holding out a bag she said, “It’s a change of clothes. And a sandwich for supper—Fannie made it.”
“Denki,” was all he could say even though he wanted to express so much more.
Averting her eyes, she asked how Timothy was and Seth grinned. Here was his chance. “He’s terrific, thanks to you and Ethan. Ethan’s visiting a patient, by the way. He said he’d be back soon. Listen, Trina, I—”
A nurse interrupted him as she exited Timothy’s room. “Oh, there you are. Timothy’s awake and he’s asking for you. He won’t believe me that you didn’t leave. Could you please go show him you’re still here, Mr. and Mrs. Helmuth?”
Glancing at Trina, who had brushed her hair into a bun and changed into a dry skirt and a plain, modest blouse, Seth understood why the nurse mistook her for an Amish woman. But he had a feeling Trina was insulted to be referred to as his wife.
“Of course,” she replied to the nurse and Seth’s hope surged. Maybe she wasn’t as disgusted by his recent behavior as he feared. Then she added, “I can’t wait to see him again,” and Seth realized she was willing to overlook the nurse’s error if it meant she had access to Timothy’s room.
They found him sitting up in his bed that was fitted with sheets that had monkeys printed on them. Timothy greeted Trina before saying, “I was scared, Daed. I thought you left.”
“Neh, I’d never leave, suh,” Seth promised. The words seemed to catch in his throat. Hadn’t Trina repeatedly offered Seth the same assurance? Realizing he’d been acting like a child himself, Seth almost wished Timothy would go back to sleep so he could apologize to Trina for his immature behavior, among other things.
“Timothy, did you paint those toucans on the walls?” she teased, pointing to the jungle motif wallpaper.
“Neh.” Timothy’s giggle was music to Seth’s ears—just as Trina’s voice had so often struck him as musical. “Dr. Levine said they have an acqua...an acquar...um, a home for real, live fish I can see in the common room tomorrow morning. Can Tanner kumme see it, too?”
“If your daed says it’s okay, I think I can arrange a way to get Tanner and your groossmammi here,” Trina said. Inwardly, Seth cringed, recognizing how careful Trina was being to defer all decisions regarding the children to him. It was as if she was a stranger, unsure of whether her help would be welcomed, and Seth knew he was the one who’d created that distance between them.
After a couple of minutes, Ethan knocked on the door and, seeing Trina, asked if she was ready to go. Seth wished he could steal a moment to speak with her in private, but before he could think of a way to take her aside, she gently kissed Timothy on his cheek and was gone.
Timothy soon dozed off again and slumbered peacefully through the night, but Seth didn’t sleep a wink. As he watched his son’s chest rise and fall, he recognized how blessed he was to have his family and he thanked God for them. He again thought about Trina using her cell phone to call the emergency service dispatcher and how relieved he was she hadn’t gotten rid of it after all. He was just as grateful for Ethan’s car, which delivered Timothy to the emergency room. And for the knowledge of the doctors and nurses who tended to him.
Ultimately, Seth knew it was the Lord who’d saved his son from worse harm, but He’d done it through Ethan, Trina and a handful of other Englischers. Of course, Seth had no intention of relying on Englisch transportation or technology for his daily needs, but he was ashamed when he recalled the insulting things he’d said to Trina about Englishers in general, and about her in particular. His desire to put things right between them consumed his thoughts and coursed through his body, almost like a physical pain, until the sun rose and Timothy finally awoke again.
Thrilled to have his breakfast in bed, Timothy refused any help from Seth and deftly fed himself using his left hand, which pleased the nurses and doctor. As Timothy was eating, Tanner and Martha walked into the room and Tanner’s eyes lit up when he noticed the wallpaper. He carefully crawled atop the adjustable bed so Timothy could give him a “ride” on it, and while the boys played, Seth asked Martha how she got there.
“Fannie brought us. She’s waiting in the buggy lot. I think she’s afraid to kumme in.”
“She should be!” Seth sputtered.
“Seth, you’ve been through a hard night.” Martha pointed her index finger at him. “But this accident could have happened under anyone’s care. It could have happened if you were with the boys, or if I was or if Trina was. Instead of casting blame, you ought to be grateful the Lord watched over Timothy as He did.”
Seth swallowed. Martha was right, of course. “That’s very true, Groossmammi. And I am grateful. Especially for Trina and Ethan. And for your prayers, too, because I know they were as vital to Timothy’s well-being as the physical care he received here was.” To keep himself from tearing up, Seth teased, “I have to admit, though, I’m surprised you wanted to come anywhere near a hospital.”
“I could say the same to you!” Martha joked and they both cracked up. She continued, “Sometimes, our thoughts are irrational. They’re based on fear, not truth. This hospital—these doctors—played a role in Timothy’s healing, by Gott’s grace. It’s not right for me to be so mistrustful of them because some other doctor made a mistake in my past.”
Seth recognized Martha was no longer talking about hospitals, but about him and Trina—and Freeman and Kristine. “You’re right again,” he said, knuckling his eyelids.
“You ought to go home and get some sleep,” Martha directed. “I think Fannie would appreciate knowing you aren’t angry with her. Tanner and I will stay here and you can pick us up this afternoon. The nurse at the station said Timothy wouldn’t be discharged until four or five.”
Seth hesitated. “I don’t want to leave Timothy. He’s scheduled to get his cast on at two thirty.”
“Kumme back by two, then,” Martha said. “It’s time to exercise a little trust, Seth. I’ll be here and the doctors will take gut care of him if anything goes wrong. It won’t, but the Lord never minds if we pray about things that trouble us.”
On that note, Seth conceded. After bidding goodbye to the boys and assuring Timothy he’d return before he got his cast on, Seth headed to the special parking lot equipped with hitching posts for the area’s Amish population.
When he climbed into the buggy, Fannie burst into tears. “I’m so sorry, Seth,” she cried.
Seth repeated his grandmother’s words. “It’s alright. It’s not your fault. Timothy’s accident could have happened while anyone was watching him.”
Fannie twisted to face him. “I know that,” she said with a sniff. “What I’m sorry about is that I can’t take care of the boys any longer. They’re just too rambunctious.”
Seth could barely respond he was so flabbergasted. “I understand,” he uttered and neither of them said anything else all the way to his home.
As she drove up the lane, Fannie said, “In a way, it’s a gut thing this happened. Not that Timothy’s suffering is gut, but the entire incident showed me our families won’t ever be compatible. I hoped once the Englischer wasn’t watching your kin any longer they’d take a liking to me, and if we worked at it, eventually our families would grow to understand and cooperate with each other. But my meed and I are just too different from you and your buwe.”
Seth simply nodded and thanked Fannie for bringing him home. He was so weary he went into the parlor and collapsed onto the sofa and covered his eyes with his hands. He’d made such a mess of things with Trina. Between that and all his pent-up tension over Timothy’s accident, Seth had never felt so low, and he allowed himself to shed a few more tears before pulling out a handkerchief and blowing his nose.
Then he stood up. Before catching a nap, he needed to milk the cow, otherwise her udders would become too full and she’d run the risk of infection. He lumbered to the stable as if his feet were made of lead and pulled the door open, his eyes adjusting to the light. What he saw was so unexpected at first he thought he imagined it.
Trina glanced toward the stable door. She had intended to finish milking Bossy before Seth arrived, but she hadn’t even started. Each time she held out an apple slice, trying to entice the cow to move toward the stanchion, Bossy lifted her head and stuck out her tongue to accept the treat. Trina was so afraid of being bitten she dropped the fruit on the ground. She was down to her last slice when Seth arrived.
Now that the worst of Timothy’s crisis was over, all of the comments Seth made to Trina the previous day came rushing back and she was immediately on guard. Dropping the last piece of apple to the ground, she muttered defensively, “I guess this is one more thing Englischers aren’t good at doing.” She tossed her chin in the air and tried to flounce around him, but he stepped into her path, blocking her exit. In her peripheral vision, she noted his nose and cheeks were red and raw, and his eyes were watery. He looked absolutely miserable.
“Denki, Trina,” he said.
Without looking at him she shrugged and said, “As you can see, I couldn’t even get her to kumme to the stanchion.”
“Well, denki for trying. And denki for saving Timothy from further harm—” Seth’s voice quivered and he swiped his hand across his eyes.
“I didn’t save him. Gott did. All I did was make a phone call—on a cell phone,” she pointed out.
“I’m so grateful you still had the phone.”
Was that his idea of an apology? If he still thought she’d intentionally held onto the phone, his gratitude was meaningless. “I’m glad I had it, too, but I didn’t keep it deliberately, no matter what you think.”
“I believe you and I’m sorry I ever doubted you. And I don’t know if you’ll believe me, but I trust you more than anyone. I didn’t realize just how much I trusted you until...until Timothy’s accident. But I trust you with the most important thing in my life—my kinner. I trust you with my family, Trina.”
Now Trina gazed into his eyes. Not so she could read his expression, but so he would have to read hers. “I trusted you with the most important thing in my life, too, Seth. I trusted you with my heart.”
A tear escaped the corner of his eye and then another from his other eye. He pushed them away before soberly promising, “I know you did. And I’m so sorry I didn’t care for your heart as lovingly as you cared for my family. I will do anything to make it right. Please give me another chance to prove I’m trustworthy, Trina. Please don’t leave Willow Creek.”
Despite the seriousness of the moment, Trina snorted. “Ha! Do you really think I’d give up my plan to become Amish because of you?”
Seth looked taken aback.
“I cared about you—I still care—more than any man I’ve ever known, Seth. But I wasn’t becoming Amish because of you and I’m not going to leave the Amish because of you. I’m doing it because I think it’s the best way for me to live out my faith.”
Seth looked chagrined. “I don’t know whether to feel humbled or insulted by that,” he admitted, “but actually, I just feel happy because it means you’re going to stay here.”
“There’s something else you need to know. I was saying goodbye to my father at the diner. But first I wanted him to know I wasn’t holding a grudge and the door to a relationship with me would always be open. I didn’t want to wait until it was too late, the way my groossdaadi waited until it was too late to restore his relationship with my mamm. He waited until it was too late to tell her he loved her.”
His chin quivering noticeably, Seth asked, “If I told you now that I love you, would it be too late?”
Trina caught her breath, aching from the near promise in his words. “If you told me now, it wouldn’t be too late—but it would be inappropriate. I’m not Amish. Not yet.”
Seth’s eyes shone a pure pale blue. “Then I guess I’ll just have to wait until you are. And while I’m waiting, I’ll try to become the kind of trustworthy man you can love, too.”
To Seth’s delight, Trina grinned mischievously and stuck her hand out to shake his. “Deal,” she said.
Her skin was silky but her grasp was strong, just as on the first day he met her, when they were still strangers. “Stay right there,” he said. “I have something for you.”
He ran to his workshop behind the barn and returned with the picture frame, which he had wrapped in brown paper. After opening it, she sighed as she traced the etched sandpipers with her finger.
“It’s to replace the one I broke,” he said nervously, unsure of what she was thinking.
“It’s beautiful. So beautiful,” she murmured and hugged it to her chest. Then she looked at it again and sighed, “But photographs are forbidden.”
“I think in this case, it’s probably alright if you save the photo of you and your mother, as long as it’s not prominently displayed in your parlor or anything.”
“But, Seth, I gave that picture to my daed yesterday, along with the photos from Abe.”
“You did?” Seth was amazed and crushed at the same time. The very day he’d accused Trina of holding on to her Englisch life, she had already given up the most precious Englisch possession she owned.
“But maybe I can use it to frame a certificate listing the years of my mother’s birth and her passing?”
Displaying such certificates was an acceptable practice in the Amish community and Seth agreed, although he felt disappointed, too. “That’s a gut idea, but I really wanted to give you a special place to store your treasured photo.”
“I know you did and I appreciate it. But I’m already storing the image in a special place,” she said, placing her hand over her heart. “It’s right here, next to the love I have for other cherished people in my life.”
Seth nodded. She didn’t have to say anything more. He knew what she meant because he felt exactly the same way.
“I’d better start the milking,” he said. “I was going to get a couple hours of sleep and then head back to the hospital.”
“May I kumme, too?” Trina asked.
“Of course. I’ll even show you how to work the reins on the way, if you’d like.”
“Don’t I need a special license to drive a horse?”
Seth shook his head. “First of all, we don’t call it ‘driving’ a horse. But neh, you don’t need a special li—” Then he realized she was joking and he smiled until his insides throbbed from the sheer joy of having this Englischer as his neighbor.