Plain Admirer. Patricia Davids

in the corner and walked out. After his brother was gone, Roman stood staring at the rod holder. He picked up his brother’s invention. Surely, he could master a simple thing like fishing, even with one arm.

      There was only one way to find out. After checking to make sure no one was about, he gathered his rod and left the house. Since he knew Andrew and his friends were going to the river, Roman set off across the cornfield. Beyond the edge of his father’s property lay a pasture belonging to Joseph Shetler. Wooly Joe, as he was called, was an elderly and reclusive Amish man who raised sheep.

      It took Roman half an hour to reach his destination. As he approached the lake, he saw Carl King, Woolly Joe’s hired man, driving the sheep toward the barns. Roman knew Carl wasn’t a member of the Amish faith. Like his boss, he kept to himself. The two occasionally came to the mill for wood for fencing or shed repairs, but Roman didn’t know them well. When Carl was out of sight, Roman had the lake to himself.

      He glanced around once more to make sure he was unobserved. In the fading twilight, he faced the glasslike water that reflected the gold and pink sunset. Lifting his rod, he depressed the button on the reel and cast it out. He hadn’t bothered adding bait. He wasn’t ready to land a fish and get it off the hook with one hand. Not yet.

      He slipped the handle of his rod into the holder his brother had made. It was then he discovered that actually reeling it in wasn’t as difficult as he had feared. When he had all the line cranked in, he pulled the rod from the holder and flipped another cast.

      This wasn’t so bad. Maybe he should have brought some bait. He’d only reeled in a few feet when he felt his hook snag and hang up. He yanked, and it moved a few feet but it wouldn’t come free. What was he snagged on?