Cold winter air seeped into the barn as the cows lowed. Daed hummed as he worked. Mark cracked silly jokes here and there. If Abram were here instead of at the café, he would smile a lot, thinking plenty but saying very little.

Wonderful memories flooded Ariana, reminding her of why she loved this simple life. Cows were lined up and eating contentedly. The fresh hay and oats filled her senses.

Some of her earliest memories had taken place in this barn. She used to be her Daed’s shadow, and he had allowed it, being patient and kind even when she made his workload harder day after day. Then, around six years old, she fell in love with baking and the challenge of helping Mamm get something good on the table when money was so sparse. So she stopped coming to the barn. Looking back, it seemed strange how skilled she was at knowing what could be paired to make something good for the family. She couldn’t do any of it herself for several years, but she shared her ideas with her Mamm, and Mamm responded and often used the ideas, which made Ariana even more determined to come up with other recipes and dishes.

And yet, despite her and her family’s best efforts, they were still poor.

“Hey, Ari,” Mark called, a hose in hand as he rinsed the udders of another cow. “You have company.”

He’d no more than said the words when she was nudged from behind. She stumbled, trying to stay upright. Mark’s laughter echoed against the walls of the barn.

Daed came out of the milk house, an empty milk can in hand. “Daisy missed you while you were gone.”

Her Daed was wrong about the phone and maybe the café, but they’d had a good few days, and neither seemed so angry or disappointed in the other.

Ariana turned to face the cow…again. She rubbed Daisy’s forehead. “You need to stop this and go on out with the other cows that have been milked.”

Daisy pressed her long hard head with its soft fur against Ariana’s chest. “Ya. You’re a good girl. Now go.” Ariana backed up, waving her hands toward the door of the barn that led to the pasture. Daisy stepped forward and nudged hard.

Ariana fell, landing on her backside. Her right hand landed in the squishiness of manure. “Ewwww! Daisy!”

Mark roared with laughter as the cow moved in closer, breathing in Ariana’s face and not giving her any room to get up. Ariana tried to push the cow away, which made Daisy try to nuzzle against her.

“Great. A little help, please!”

Daed put a rope around the cow’s neck while Mark helped Ariana stand. “Denki.”

Mark opened his mouth to say something, but all he did was laugh.

Daed pulled the cow a few feet away from her. “You have a nice aroma for the start of the day.” He smiled. “You can go get a warm shower if you like.”

This was the man she’d grown up loving. Kind, helpful, and thoughtful. He loved God, his family, and the Old Ways. Probably not in that order. Apparently the beliefs of the Amish church were more important to him than she had realized, and she’d known they meant joy and peace to him. What she hadn’t known was that he allowed the rules, the laws—and fear—to think for him.

“I’m okay.” She looked at her hand. “I’ll use the sink in the milk house and wash up.” She couldn’t see one of the guys going into the house and getting a shower because they had gotten messy while milking the cows. Besides, the only reason she was out here was because Daed wanted her near him, mostly so he could talk to her and share his thoughts as they went through their day. He was so hopeful she would give up the phone and become the girl she was before she left. She wanted that for him, but she couldn’t do it.

Daed nodded. “Ya. Gut idea.”

She headed for the milk house.

“Hey, Ariana,” Mark called. He pointed to the back of her coat.

Daed chuckled. “Washing your hands will do nothing for that.”

She grabbed the back of her coat, trying to see how much muck was on it while Mark and Daed laughed. This sort of mess happened to them regularly, although not from falling. But she minded the yuck more, and they found her reaction funny.

She twisted, trying to examine her black coat, as if knowing how bad it was would solve anything. “Ya, well, apparently manure happens.”

Mark returned to rinsing off udders. “You might be a farmer if…”

It was an old game, one she hadn’t played in a long time. “You know cow pies aren’t made with beef.”

“Isaac.”

Her breath halted in her lungs. She didn’t have to look to know that the gravelly voice belonged to the bishop. Nonetheless, she turned around and smiled in an attempt to be polite. He didn’t return the gesture.

“Ariana,” Daed said, “why don’t you go inside and get cleaned up.”

The bishop was here to talk, and she’d been dismissed. That suited her fine, but she’d like to know if Daed was releasing her so he would have privacy to take up for her or to discuss what could be done about her rebellion.