He quickly placed the plants in a plastic bag. After the exchange of money, Jedidiah picked up the vegetable bin. “May I carry this to your buggy?”
Sarah nodded, pleased. “That would be helpful.” She gestured to her brothers to follow and led Jedidiah to her family’s buggy, where Mary Alice stood outside waiting.
“Jedidiah, this is my cousin Mary Alice Troyer. Mary Alice, this is Jedidiah Lapp from Lancaster, Pennsylvania.”
“Jed,” Jedidiah invited, meeting Sarah’s gaze with a warm smile before turning toward her cousin. “Jed is fine.”
After her cousin and he greeted each other, Jedidiah leaned inside to place the bin toward the rear interior of the vehicle and straightened. “There you go.”
Sarah nodded her thanks. “Gut sales tomorrow.” She climbed into the buggy and took up the reins.
“Behave and keep out of trouble,” Jedidiah said with a smile to the twins, who assured them they would try. “You should mind your mam.”
“We will!” the boys said simultaneously.
Sarah urged the horse on and with a wave she steered the buggy out of the Spence’s lot, then left onto the paved road. She glanced back once to see Jedidiah—Jed, she thought—still standing in the same spot. She hesitated and then waved a second time. She saw Jed lift a hand again in a silent farewell before he returned to his stand.
As she steered the horse toward home, Sarah thought of Jedidiah and sighed with regret. Too bad I’ll never get to see him again.
Chapter Two
Saturday, after a day spent at the Sale, Jed and Arlin returned to their cousin’s house and pitched in to ready the Miller property for tomorrow’s church services. The bench wagon had been pulled up to the barn. Services would be held in a large open area in the new building. Jed grabbed a bench, carried it inside and set it down. “This in the right place?” he asked their cousin and host, Pete Miller.
“Ja, that is gut,” Pete said. “We’ll need all of the benches in the wagon and some of the chairs from inside the house. We have guests coming from another district. I hope we have enough room.”
Jedidiah studied the huge barn that had been cleared for tomorrow’s use and nodded. “Looks to me like you’ll seat fifty to sixty easily. Will there be more than sixty coming?”
“Nay.” Pete took off his straw hat and wiped his brow with his shirtsleeve. “Maybe just under fifty.”
“No need to worry, then,” Arlin said. “You’ll have plenty of room without the chairs.”
Jedidiah, Arlin and Pete made several trips with benches. Pete’s two eldest sons pitched in to help finish the job, as did two other churchmen who arrived a half hour after they had. It wasn’t long before the room was set up with benches on three sides facing the area where the appointed preacher would stand and speak. The women would sit on one side, the men on the other. Women with their children would remain together, listening and singing the hymns sung every church Sunday. After services, the church community would gather outside to enjoy the midday meal. The women had prepared food prior to Sunday, and cold meat, salads, vegetables and desserts would be shared among the families. The men usually ate first, with the women and children taking their meal afterward, but tomorrow would be different. The church elders had decided that families would be allowed to eat together this church Sunday.
After they’d finished with the benches and brought in the Ausbund hymnals, the men lingered outside and enjoyed glasses of lemonade from the pitcher that Pete’s daughter Lydia had brought them. As they quenched their thirst, they chatted about Sunday services, the weather and the crops they’d planted this year.
“Pete! Arlin! You bring Jed and the others in for supper!” Pete’s wife, Mary, called out to them in the yard. She stood inside the screen door and redirected her attention to Ned Troyer as he climbed onto the bench wagon and took up the leathers. “Ned, come inside to eat.” She stepped out into the yard and approached.
“I appreciate the offer, Mary,” Ned said, “but Sally is waiting for me at home.” He leaned over the side of the wagon and lowered his voice. “She’s made some gut strawberry jam.” He grinned. “I convinced her to make tarts for tomorrow.”
Mary smiled. “Tell her we look forward to tasting her tarts. The berries are extra sweet this year. I haven’t made jam yet—we’ve been too busy eating the fresh berries.”
“Ja,” Ned said. “Strawberry shortcake...fresh strawberries and cream. A gut year for Delaware strawberries!” He clicked his tongue and steered the horse toward the road. “See ya tomorrow.”
“Ja,” Pete said. He turned toward his cousins as Ned headed home. “Jed, there will be a singing here tomorrow night. I think you’ll enjoy it.”
Jed nodded. He enjoyed singings. Back home in Happiness, Pennsylvania, he’d been the one to lead the first hymn. He liked gathering with friends, spending time with the young people in his community and those nearby. He was now older than many who attended. His brother Noah married last year. He was twenty-two and should be wed himself by now, but he hadn’t found the right woman. He’d thought for a time that she might be Annie Zook, but there seemed to be something missing between them. Annie would make a wonderful wife, but she wouldn’t be his. When they discussed their relationship, he and Annie had reached the conclusion that they would be better friends than sweethearts. There were other girls who watched him as if interested, but Jed didn’t have strong feelings for any of them. He wanted to find a love like his brother Noah had. He longed to find a woman who fully captured his heart and loved him completely in return.
Someone is out there waiting for me. He knew it. He hoped he’d find her sooner than later. He wasn’t getting any younger. He was the eldest son of Katie and Samuel Lapp, and he wondered if he’d ever find love...a love like Noah and Rachel’s...a love like his dat and mam’s. He wasn’t going to settle for anyone just to wed, even though he knew that many who married eventually came to love his or her spouse. It wouldn’t be fair to marry any woman unless he truly loved her.
* * *
Sunday morning, Sarah sat in the back of the family buggy, a pie and a cake cradled on her lap. “You all right, Mam?” she asked as she leaned toward the front seat.
Her mother turned to smile at her. “Ja, I’m fine, Sarah. Stop your worrying.”
Her dat glanced back briefly to meet Sarah’s gaze before turning his attention toward the road. Sarah knew Dat was as concerned as she. It had been too long that her mother felt poorly. Mam was pale and constantly tired. She prayed that God would make her well soon.
“It’s a lovely day for church services,” Sarah said to fill the silence.
“Ja,” her mother agreed. “It’s nice to get out and about. I look forward to visiting with our friends after church.”
Sarah felt the same way. She was glad Mam was feeling well enough today to visit. She never missed a Sunday church service, but Dat usually took her home immediately afterward.
The only sound for a time was the clip-clop of their mare Jennie’s hooves on the paved road as they headed toward the Millers’ farm, the location for this Sunday’s church services. Sarah’s young twin brothers were surprisingly silent beside her. She glanced over and realized why. Just that quickly the boys had fallen asleep. Each child looked nice in his white shirt, black vest and black pants. They had managed to keep their clothes clean this morning and their usual wild mop of red hair beneath their black Sunday-best hat neatly combed. She smiled; they were miniature versions of their father. They were gut boys and they did listen and obey her, but still, she didn’t always know what to expect