Johanna's Bridegroom. Emma Miller

someone listen?”

      “You think I’ve made a terrible mistake, don’t you? Say it, if that’s what you think. I can take it.”

      Charley came to the well, cranked up a second bucket of water and used an enamel dipper to take a drink. Then he poured the rest of the bucket into a pail for the mare. She dipped her velvety nose in the water and slurped noisily.

      Roland wanted to shake his brother. In typical fashion, Charley was taking his good old time in applying the heat, letting Roland suffer as he waited to hear the words. Finally, when he’d nearly lost the last of his patience, Charley nodded and glanced back from the mare.

      “You’re working yourself into a lather for nothing, brother. Don’t you remember what a chase Miriam gave me? ‘We’re friends, Charley,’” he mimicked. “‘You’re just like a brother.’ Do you think I wanted to be Miriam’s friend? I loved her since she was in leading strings, since we slept in the same cradle as nurslings. Miriam was the sun and moon for me. It’s not right for a Christian man to say such things, but sinner that I am, it’s how I feel about her. But you know what men say about the Yoder girls.”

      Roland nodded. “They’re a handful.”

      “It’s true,” Charley agreed. “From Hannah right down to Rebecca. Even Susanna, one of God’s sweetest children, has her stubborn streak.”

      “But they’re true as rain.” Roland ran his fingers through his wet hair. “Strong and good as any woman I’ve ever met, and that includes our sister Mary.”

      “Exactly. Worth the trouble, and worth the wait.” He smiled. “You know I’ve never been a betting man. The preachers say the Good Book warns against wagering, and I take that as gospel. But if I was an Englishman without a care for his soul, I’d risk my new Lancaster buggy against a pair of cart wheels that you and Johanna will be married by Christmas next. Mark my words, brother. Everyone in the family knows it. The two of you will come to your senses and work this out. And if you don’t, I’ll grow my beard out as long and full as Bishop Atlee’s himself.”

      Chapter Five

      At nine-thirty on Tuesday morning, Johanna tied Blackie to a hitching rail under a shady tree at the back of one of the buildings at Spence’s Auction and Bazaar. Some people didn’t bother to remove the bridles of their animals at market, but Dat had taught her differently. If a horse had to stand for hours, he didn’t need a bit in his mouth. The halter was just as secure and more comfortable for the horse. Any animal deserved respect and loving care, especially one who served so faithfully in pulling the carriage and helping with farm work.

      After Johanna had watered Blackie and double-checked his tie rope, she took her split-oak market basket, containing a dozen jars of clover honey, and carried it through the milling shoppers to the family booth.

      This spring, the Yoders had had been blessed to take over the space of another Amish family, who was moving to Iowa. The stand was inside a three-sided shed, a little smaller than what they’d had outside, but in an excellent location and sheltered from the weather. Sometimes they sold vegetables from Mam’s garden, and—depending on the season—they offered honey, homemade jams and preserves, pickles and relishes, and holiday wreaths. And since they’d acquired the new, shaded booth, Aunt Jezzy had taken over running the table with help from whichever Yoder sister was available.

      Going to Spence’s two days a week and selling to strangers was a big step for Aunt Jezzy because she was naturally shy around the English. Mam had secretly wondered if it wasn’t too much to expect of her, but after a few weeks, Aunt Jezzy had really taken to the job and had proved to be an excellent businesswoman. Her cashbox always balanced out to the penny, and she quickly became popular with customers and other sellers.

      Grace had dropped Aunt Jezzy and Rebecca off early that morning on her way to the local community college, where she was studying to be a veterinary technician, but her classes didn’t let out until five today. Johanna would have to remain until afternoon to drive her aunt and sister home when they closed the booth. Usually, Johanna brought Katy or Jonah or both with her, but since they’d gone to spend the day at Anna’s, she was alone.

      The weather was warm and sunny, and there seemed to be a lot of people at Spence’s that morning. As Johanna entered the open building with her heavy basket, she was pleased to see several regular customers standing at the table, and her display of honey and beeswax lip salve and soap nearly gone. Aunt Jezzy was counting out change to an older man, and Rebecca was bagging the last pint of strawberries, berries that Susanna had picked before breakfast.

      How pleased her little sister would be to add to the savings she kept in a hen-shaped crockery jar under her bed. This morning, Susanna had whispered that she was going to buy Mam a birthday present. Of course, last week, she’d wanted Charley to buy her a pink pig with black spots, and at supper last night, she’d announced that she wanted a big dog and a cart, so she and King David could drive it to Dover every day. Susanna always had plans, but no matter how they turned out, she was always happy.

      Susanna is truly blessed with a loving spirit, Johanna thought. She was born with the grace I’ve always struggled to find.

      Rebecca glanced up and smiled. “Hi. We were wondering where you were. Your bee-tending took longer at Roland’s than you expected?” she said in Pennsylvania Deutch.

      Johanna ignored her sister’s teasing remark. “It was a busy morning,” she said, once the customers had been waited on and moved on. “You’ve sold a lot.”

      “Ya,” Aunt Jezzy agreed as she spun the closed moneybox exactly three complete rotations before stashing it safely under the table. “Most of Susanna’s strawberries went right away,” she said, continuing on in the same dialect. Aunt Jezzy’s English was excellent, but she always preferred Pennsylvania Dutch when they were alone or with other Amish. “Without Rebecca’s help, I would have been hard-pressed. She is a good girl, your sister. Always kind to me and your grossmama, Lovina, when she and Leah stayed with us in Ohio.”

      “I think we did so well because a tourist bus from Washington stopped,” Rebecca explained, switching the conversation back to English. “Some of the people started staring and asked silly questions, but then Leah’s husband’s aunt Joyce came over. She spoke up, saying how the salve was organic. One lady bought a lip balm and tried it right away. And then the others started buying.”

      “They snapped up those fancy half-pint jars of honey, too,” Aunt Jezzy said. “And never argued about the price.” She chuckled. “But they talked loud, like I was deaf.”

      “You handled them perfectly,” Rebecca said. “You should have seen her, Johanna. Schmaert. Smiling, and so quaint.” Rebecca giggled. “Vit a heavy Deutch accent. And when one Englisher whipped out her cell phone to take a photograph of her, Aunt Jezzy turned her back. She refused to wait on anyone else. Then the bus driver blew his horn to leave, and the other tourists made the woman put her cell away so they could buy before they had to go.”