her knife down and turned to Ellie. “Englisch?”
“Well, he dresses Englisch. Dat says he’s been living in Chicago.”
“Then what is he doing here?”
Gut, maybe this Englischer in their midst bothered Lovina as much as it did her.
“I don’t know, but Dat says he wants to be Amish again.”
“What does Dat think? Is he serious about this?”
“Ja. Dat says he is. He came by on Monday and bought Partner, that gelding Dat wanted to sell, and he was back again yesterday.”
“So what do you think? Is he nice?”
Ellie’s thoughts went to his eyes. She had been so rude to him, but those blue eyes had still smiled at her as if he could see right through her. Could he see what she was thinking? She felt her face grow hot. She hoped he couldn’t.
“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t talked to him much.”
“Much? Then you have talked to him.”
“Ja, a little.”
“What does Dat say?”
“Dat likes him. He’s asked the family to give him a chance to be part of the community.” Ellie moved the pot of rhubarb to a cooler part of the woodstove as it started simmering. “But those Englisch clothes are so fancy, and he’s much too bold.” Ellie turned to Lovina. “You wouldn’t want an Englischer to spend too much time with Rachel, would you? Wouldn’t you be worried about how he might influence her?”
Lovina was silent as she cut the next bunch of rhubarb into one-inch pieces. She dumped them into the bowl, then turned to Ellie.
“I’d trust Dat. I know he’s never been wrong when it comes to a man’s character. Don’t you remember how everyone else thought Noah was wild and wouldn’t amount to anything?”
Ellie remembered. Lovina’s husband had almost left the community during his Rumspringa, but had returned to be baptized and then married Lovina.
“Dat never stopped having faith in him. Noah has told me that Dat’s support was the one thing that gave him the courage to come back home after his Rumspringa. Without someone believing in him...” Lovina picked up another bunch of rhubarb to cut. “Without someone believing in him, Noah might never have come home. If Dat thinks we should give this new man the same support, then I think we need to do it.”
Was Lovina right? Ellie cut her rhubarb in silence. Was Bram the invasive weed that would ruin their lives, or was she wrong?
She gave her head a decisive shake. As long as he wore those fancy clothes, she couldn’t trust him, no matter what Dat said.
* * *
“You got this plow for a good price.” Matthew ended his sentence with a grunt as he and Bram lifted the final piece of the dismantled equipment off the back of the wagon and onto Bram’s barn floor.
Bram lifted the tailgate and fastened the latch. “Ja, it didn’t go as high as I thought it would.”
Matthew took a wrench out of the toolbox behind the wagon seat and started reassembling the plow. Bram held the axle steady while Matthew replaced the bolts and tightened them.
“I saw Samuel while we were in Shipshewana.”
Bram didn’t answer Matthew. So what if his brother had been there? There had been no sign of Kavanaugh, and that was what mattered.
Matthew continued in his mild tone, “We could have taken the time to see him.”
“It would have been a waste.” Bram kept his eyes on the wheel he was adjusting.
“I know you have your differences, but it doesn’t seem right to ignore him.”
“My brother and I don’t have anything in common, that’s all.”
“Except you do.” Matthew was persistent. “You share your family, your parents, your history...”
Bram glanced at his brother-in-law. Did he have any idea what it was like to grow up as a Lapp?
“Ja, we share our history, and that’s the problem.” Bram tightened the last bolt and stood up to admire the plow. It was a beauty. He wiped his hands on a rag and turned to Matthew.
“Our Dat was an alcoholic. I didn’t like it, but that’s how he was, and that’s what killed him.” And what probably killed Mam, too, in the end. Bram rubbed a bit of grease from the side of his finger. “My brother is just like him, and if I never see Samuel again, I’ll be happy.”
Bram waited for the shock on Matthew’s face. Any Amishman would tell you that the attitude he had toward his brother was sinful, but Matthew’s face only showed sadness.
“Ach, Bram, Annie never told me all of this.”
“Ja, well, it happened when she was a little girl—and I don’t think the girls saw all of it. Mam did what she could to protect them.”
The silence that followed was as welcome as rain. Bram fastened the barn door and then climbed onto the wagon seat with Matthew for the drive back to their farm.
“How soon do you think you’ll be able to move onto this place?” Matthew asked.
“Next week, I hope.” Bram was glad to change the subject. “I’ve been working on the barn, and I’ll need to clean out the house before I move in.”
“It’ll be a good farm when you’re done.” Matthew slapped the reins over the horses’ backs. “You’ll be able to count on the church’s help with the farmwork, Bram.”
“Ja, that will be good. I appreciate it.” At least he thought he did. He liked to work alone.
Bram glanced sideways at Matthew. What kind of man had his sister married? A good man, for sure, but he was young. Oh, in years he was almost as old as Bram, but he seemed so naive about the world. All these Amishmen did. Compared to the men in Chicago...well, it was a good thing they’d never meet. These poor fellows wouldn’t survive on the streets.
Bram rubbed at the grease on his finger. He had survived, but he had been tougher at seventeen than Matthew was in his twenties. Maybe having a father like his wasn’t such a bad thing.
* * *
“Lovina, you be sure to take some of these cookies home to Noah.” Mam took another panful of snickerdoodles out of the oven.
Ellie took in a deep breath full of cinnamon and sugar. No matter how old she was, Mam’s kitchen would always be home.
“Were the children good for you today?” Ellie couldn’t resist taking a cooled cookie from the counter.
“Ach, ja. They are always the best when they’re with their grossmutti. They play so well together.” Mam slid another cookie sheet into the oven. “Of course, I haven’t seen anything of them once the girls
