and her heart beat so fast and loud she wondered if the whole room could hear it. She walked toward the front of the room where she saw an empty seat in the women’s section. Somehow she made it there even though her knees felt like jelly. She sank into the chair and stared straight ahead, feeling like she wore a scarlet “A” on her like the heroine in that Englisch novel. What was it called? The Scarlet Letter. She’d checked it out of the library once, but her mamm hadn’t let her read it and had immediately returned it.
She saw movement out of the corner of her eye. When she glanced over at the men’s section she saw Jacob looking at her.
His eyes were just as cold and hard as those of the congregation around him.
Her heart sank. Somehow everyone had found out she’d intended to ask Jacob out. She knew the Amish grapevine worked better than a telephone, but really . . . everyone here knew. Even Jacob! Her face flamed.
Why had she let Katie talk her into this? She’d never live it down. Rosie wanted to jump up and run out of the house, but it was Sunday service; one had to attend unless one was sick. That was it. She’d pretend she was sick and slip out.
But when she tried to stand her long skirts tangled around her legs, and she couldn’t move. She pulled at the fabric, but it trapped her. Struggling just made it worse. Crying out, desperate to escape, she jerked at her skirt and woke. She was in her room, in bed, not in a church service in the Beiler home. It had just been a bad dream.
Katie appeared in the doorway of her room. “Rosie? You okay?” she asked, sounding sleepy.
Rosie found her sheets and quilt were tangled around her. No wonder she’d been dreaming that she was trapped. “Ya. Just had a bad dream.”
Before she knew what was happening, Katie had bustled into the room and had laid the back of her hand on Rosie’s forehead.
“What are you doing?”
“Just making sure you don’t have a fever.”
“I had a concussion, not a virus!”
“You can never be too careful.”
“Go back to bed, Katie.”
She yawned and turned to leave the room. “’Night.”
It took Rosie a long time to go back to sleep. The dream had seemed so real . . .
The next day she walked into the Beiler home. Chills raced up and down her spine. Everything looked just like her dream . . . the way the wooden benches were set up, the congregation filing in. On the other hand, she’d been to services at this house many times through the years so of course, it would look familiar.
But every time she looked into the face of one of the people, she saw smiles, friendliness, and welcome. Relieved that she wasn’t having another bad dream, Rosie found a seat and Katie sat next to her.
“Someone’s trying to catch your eye,” Katie whispered.
Rosie glanced over at the men’s section and saw Jacob. He grinned at her. She smiled back, happy that he wasn’t wearing that forbidding, unfriendly look from her nightmare.
She loved church—the singing, the message, the feeling of union with her community. But the service felt even longer than the usual three hours. Her head still hurt a little. She wished she’d taken some ibuprofen or aspirin before she came. The room felt warm, close. Some fresh air would help, but she didn’t want to call attention to herself by slipping outside for a few minutes.
Finally it was over, and the men began moving the wooden benches to form seating areas so everyone could share the light meal the women were going to serve.
Katie must have noticed that Rosie wasn’t comfortable because she urged her to go sit on the front porch while she helped in the kitchen. Rosie gratefully took her up on that, not even minding that the sunlight made her headache a little worse.
The front door opened and Jacob walked out, saw her, and
came over to sit in a chair beside her. “Guder mariye.”
“Guder mariye.” She smiled shyly at him. “Did you enjoy the service? This was your second time, right?” She winced inwardly. Should she have said that she noticed how many times he’d attended since he moved here?
He nodded. “Very much. I liked what Abe Miller had to say about Matthew. How are you feeling?”
“Wonderful. Fully recovered. Thank you again for the daisies.”
“Glad you liked them.”
Small talk, thought Rosie. But it was comfortable, pleasant, talking to him. She didn’t feel the overwhelming anxiety she’d thought she would
A couple of people walked out of the house, descended the stairs and headed for where they’d parked their buggy. More people would be leaving. It was now or never. Taking a deep breath, Rosie turned to Jacob.
“Would you—”
“Rosie—”
They stopped.
“Ladies first,” he said with a smile.
“Would you like to go for a drive?”
“I was about to ask you that.”
“You were?”
“Ya. And lunch?”
“Lunch would be wonderful. I’ll just go tell Katie.”
“I’ll get my buggy. And Rosie?”
She stopped, turned. “Ya?”
“Do you have sunglasses? You look like the light’s bothering your eyes.”
He’d noticed.
“I do. They’re in my purse. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
Rosie smiled as she went inside and found Katie walking toward the kitchen. She grabbed her hands and pulled her over into a corner of the hallway where they wouldn’t be overheard. “I asked him. I asked Jacob out.”
“You did?” Katie grinned. “Gut for you! It wasn’t so hard,
was it?”
She shook her head. “I think he was going to ask me. Anyway, we’re going for a ride and lunch. I’ll see you later.”
“I’m going to lunch with Daniel. Imagine, both of us have dates on the same afternoon.”
“You always have a date. It’s me who never has a date.” Rosie retrieved her purse from the kitchen where she’d stashed her purse when she came in that morning and walked outside to meet Jacob. She felt little flutters of excitement like butterflies in her tummy.
Unknown territory. That’s what she felt she was venturing into
. . . unknown territory. It was a little bit scary and a little bit exciting.
She
