roof against the coming winter winds.
“How is Isaiah doing in the Northwoods?” Sunny asked Lavina as she knit a child’s navy-blue stocking.
“My son is courting a Chippewa woman there,” Lavina said, head down.
Silence greeted this.
“She is a strong believer and is well thought of,” Lavina continued, glancing up in a way that repelled dispute. “My husband and I may travel there to meet her as soon as the harvest is in and before snow flies.”
Emma drew in a breath. Many women were frowning, but evidently because of Noah’s recent sermon, none spoke of the prejudice against a mixed marriage.
“I’m sure she will be a help to Isaiah in his mission,” Emma said.
“Yes, but that’s not why he’s marrying her. He fell in love,” Lavina said with a sweet smile.
The way the woman said the words physically hurt Emma’s heart. Two young people in love. She bent over her knitting, hiding the tight “stitch” within her.
Then Mason’s voice floated through the window. The men were going to hoist someone up on the roof. Her fingers tightened in her yarn. Not Mason. Not Mason.
“No, not you, Mason,” Noah said with evident humor. “You’ve fallen off one roof this fall. That’s your limit.”
The men all laughed.
“I must agree,” Mason said without evident embarrassment.
“Can I go up on the roof?” The voice sounded young. Emma recognized it as belonging to Jacque Merriday, the sheriff’s son. “I know how to check the wooden shingles. My dad taught me.”
Rachel, his stepmother, looked up and shook her head. “That boy knows no fear, and he frightens me at times.”
“That’s the way boys are,” Mrs. Ashford said sagely, her knitting needles clicking.
The workday proceeded, and sitting beside her sister, more and more Judith’s near silence worried Emma. What was wrong?
At noon the men trooped inside. After the children had been helped through the line of generous sandwiches and cookies, the women waved the men to go first to fill their plates, saying that stacking wood gave a person more appetite than handwork. Emma gauged the distance she would maintain between her and Mason, glad for all the people in between.
However, her sister thwarted her by absently drawing Emma outside with her to sit by Asa, who of course had Mason at his side on a quilt under a blazing red maple. Enjoying the balmy fall day, everyone had settled either on the benches or on quilts outside. A vee of migrating geese honked overhead. What had Judith so preoccupied? Though wondering, Emma did not let her serene smile or her cool demeanor falter.
Mason appeared to be of the same mind as she. He was polite but did not try to catch Emma’s attention, instead giving it to Asa and, of course, his girls. Emma sat quietly, trying to come up with a way to ask Judith surreptitiously what was wrong.
Nearby the sheriff was discussing the newest project nearing completion in town, the new jail, which would be his office and headquarters.
Emma heard a familiar voice calling from up the road, “Hello! I’m here!”
Emma and Judith set down their plates, leaped to their feet and hurried toward the familiar voice. “Father! You’re home!”
Emma and Judith threw their arms around the slight, silver-haired man in welcome. Emma had been fearful that he might not return. She knew it was selfish of her to want to keep her father close, but she couldn’t help it. She stepped back and studied him. He did not look upset. He looked happy. So his visit with their brother and his wife must have gone well. A relief.
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