what I tell my mother,” Thomas said. “About me.”
Sara made a small sound of disbelief. “And how does that work?”
“Not very well.”
“Didn’t think so,” Sara replied.
“Doesn’t work so well with my mam, either,” Leah said with a grin. “It’s why I’m going to stay at Sara’s.” She kept her eyes on the road. “I’d be happy to drop the soup off at your grandparents’,” she assured him, “if you’re headed somewhere else?”
“I’m going to Sara’s actually,” Thomas admitted sheepishly. “I left my horse and buggy there. Ellie—she’s my girl—was my girl—Ellie likes to walk home after school on nice days like this. I thought it would be a surprise if I walked over and carried her books home.”
“Ach,” Sara said. “And it was you who got the surprise, wasn’t it?”
“Ya,” he admitted. He exhaled and went on. “I asked her to marry me and she turned me down.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Leah glanced at Thomas in the rearview mirror again. He didn’t seem all that upset for a man who’d just proposed to a girl and been turned down. Seemed more put out than anything.
“Tough to be told no, but tougher to marry the wrong girl,” Sara observed. “No need for you to take it personal, though, Thomas. Ellie’s been saying for months how happy she is teaching at the school. You just weren’t listening. You know the board wouldn’t keep her on if she married. She likes her independence, our Ellie.”
“I knew that she said that,” Thomas said. “But how was I to know that she meant it?”
Leah turned into Sara’s driveway.
“By tonight, everyone in Seven Poplars will know Ellie refused me,” Thomas went on. “I’m going to look pretty foolish.”
“Ne.” Sara shook her head. “Not true. You’re not the first one to be turned down in Seven Poplars and you won’t be the last. But maybe this will teach you to listen to what a woman says. She told you she wasn’t going to marry you. I heard it myself.”
“Guess I should have listened,” Thomas admitted.
“I do know a thing or two about compatible couples,” Sara said. “Which reminds me. I’m giving a get-together on Friday night in my barn. You should come, Thomas. There will be eligible young women there. I want to have games, as well as food and singing.”
He shrugged. “I’m not sure I’d be good company.”
“Nonsense,” Sara replied. “I could use your help setting up. And if you don’t come, you’ll just sit home feeling sorry for yourself.”
“I suppose I could make the effort. If you need me, I could come for a while, just to help out.”
“It will do you good. Take your mind off losing Ellie.” Sara clasped her hands together and turned to Leah. “And you should come, too. It should be a lively evening—you’ll enjoy yourself. And you and Thomas can catch up.”
Leah eased the car to a stop near Sara’s back door and Sara handed Thomas two quarts of the soup from the basket on the floor beside her feet.
“Thanks for the ride,” Thomas said, getting out on the driver’s side, a jar in each hand. “And for the soup. I know my grandparents will appreciate it.”
“No trouble.” Leah smiled at him, leaning through the window. “It’s not as though I took you far.”
He started toward his buggy, parked on the far side of the barnyard, then turned back to her. “It’s good to have you home again, Leah.” Then he grimaced. “That didn’t come out right. I mean, I know that you’d rather not have...that...” He looked down and then up at her, meeting her gaze. “I’m really sorry about Daniel and your little one.”
Leah was touched by the emotion she heard in his voice. “Please don’t feel that you have to tiptoe around me. This is a new start for me. What better place than home, where I have so much support?”
“Ya,” Thomas agreed. He stood there for a second, then offered her the handsome grin that Amish girls all over the county talked about. “Well, see you.”
Leah turned in the seat to face Sara as soon as Thomas was out of earshot. “I hope you weren’t thinking of Thomas for me.”
“Nothing wrong with Thomas that a little attitude adjusting can’t fix,” Sara said, getting out of the car.
Leah shook her head. “I wasn’t criticizing him. It’s just that he’s too young, too...” She shrugged. “I don’t know. Not a man I could call husband.”
“Don’t worry,” Sara assured her, picking up the basket with the soup. “I think I know exactly what you need.” She closed the door and leaned down to speak through the open window. “Which is why you should come to the frolic.”
Leah groaned and rested her hands on the steering wheel. “It’s been a long time since I was single. I’m afraid I’ll feel out of place with the younger girls and fellows.”
“You won’t. I’ve invited people of all ages. And it will give you a chance to reacquaint yourself with the singles in our community. There’s a vanload coming from Virginia, as well, so there will be plenty of new faces.” She held up one hand. “I know, no Virginian, unless he’s willing to relocate. I just mean there will be interesting people to talk with—men and women.”
“Mam tells me that you’ve made a lot of good matches. Still, I have to admit that I’m nervous.”
“You won’t be alone in that, but we’ll muddle through.” Sara chuckled. “We should have a nice-sized crowd Friday night. And Hannah told me that you have a lovely singing voice. We can always use another strong voice. Would you like to come in and see the room I have for you? You can move in as soon as you’d like.”
“I don’t need to see the room. I’m sure it will be fine.” Leah glanced in Thomas’s direction as he untied his horse’s tie rope and slipped on the bridle. “I think I’d like to come tomorrow, if that suits you.”
“It suits me fine.” Sara watched as Thomas climbed up into his buggy. “He’s a good man, Leah. Don’t sell him short.”
Leah pursed her lips thoughtfully. “He doesn’t seem all that broken up over losing Ellie.”
“Because she wasn’t the right one for him.” Sara smiled and held up the basket. “I do appreciate not having to cook supper tonight. Your mother makes good soup.”
“I know,” Leah said. “It was one of the things I kept dreaming about when I was in Brazil—my mother’s cooking.” She paused. “You don’t think I’m rushing it, do you? You don’t think it’s too soon to look for a husband?”
Sara smiled kindly. “Ne, I don’t think you are. It’s only right that we grieve for those we’ve loved and lost. But it would deny God’s gifts if you couldn’t continue on with life. A
