was truly a dear
64
W*y-65
.I I nisi ihI friend, not an anxious young man wanting to get '. with rimrting, hoping she might fall in love with him so In muld marry before his younger sisters. No, there was a genuine consideration in his warm embrace, and she laid her litutd HjUfninst his burly shoulder.
Two long, sad years had come and gone, and she'd
U'lillVCil nearly like a widow, never attending singings or corn
1 I'ln^s where young men and women paired up, so dis-
I ir r life. She'd even turned her back on the idea of marry-
I hinking that if Aunt Lizzie could be happy as a maidel,
! ii why couldn't she?
Mm now, with these familiar feelings stirring within, what Jtlu; to do? Yet, when all was said and done, Leah was free ' Invt* again. If I choose to, she thought, surprising herself.
Sitting this close to Gid, she felt genuinely cared for,
I' iked after . . . even cherished. She was wary of the feeling
In 'd missed it so desperately after she and Jonas split up. Now
In- was afraid it might overcome her, because as they rode
if n% she suddenly knew she wanted more, wanted to drown
In i resentment toward Sadie in Gid's loving arms.
When they neared the turnoff to the Peachey farm, he I . I .^1, "Do you mind if I walk you home? We could cut
1111' m i>;h the field, if that's all right with you."
I She said she didn't mind, and right then she realized how
I1 I n| hIk1 was. This happy night had completely changed her ! in look. Gone was her impatience to get home. Something
I1 nder that had died in her was beginning to revive, and at
I11 in moment, she felt she might at last be able to cast aside
65 66
-Lu jQt
the stranglehold of sadness and animosity hindering her path.Just look at the smithy and Miriam Peachey . . . how happy theyare, she told herself. If Gid's father was as loving to his mother as Leah had always observed him to be, then Gid would also be a compassionate husband, wouldn't he? How foolish of her to pass up the chance to be loved so dearly, to be so cornpletely adored.
She found herself thinking ahead to what it might be like to accept Gid's hand, to live with him and cherish him, to care for their little ones ... to be his devoted helpmeet. As thoughtful and kind as he was, how hard would it be to follow her heart if truly her heart was coming round, as it seemed to be?
Lest Leah was getting ahead of herself, she chased such thoughts away, but she was altogether pleased she and Gid had yet another few minutes to spend together this night.
They were enveloped in the green scent of jagged grass and the dank smell of cow pies as they strolled through the wide field between the Ebersol and Peachey farms.
The roof of her father's barn caught Leah's eye, the brilliant reflection of the moon dousing the silvery tin with its whiteness. She heard what she thought was one of their mules braying. Mules weren't nearly as stubborn as some folks seemed to think. They could be coaxed, not easily, but persuaded nevertheless to work the narrowest sections of the field. And mules required less feed and had greater fortitude than horses. ,. , .:. , , . , , . ,
67C- n e CDacrifice ' ' '
H Old glanced over at the barn. "What's the racket over
Hrs?"
H "Must be a bat tormenting the livestock." She looked up HDkl. "Ever see one lunge at a mule?" H To this they both laughed, and she welcomed his hand Hdlng hers. His companionably firm clasp made her own Hftcl sivm small and almost fragile, and once again she was Hftk\l lit the long-dormant stirring within. She moved along Hhln side, keeping pace with his stride. H "Speaking of mules," Gid said halfway across the field, ^wlju ever hear of certain long-ago ministers sayin' it was ^tnisive to mix God's creatures because our heavenly Father Hin'l create such an animal in the first place? Like breeding Hiorse and a donkey to produce a mule." H
64
W*y-65
.I I nisi ihI friend, not an anxious young man wanting to get '. with rimrting, hoping she might fall in love with him so In muld marry before his younger sisters. No, there was a genuine consideration in his warm embrace, and she laid her litutd HjUfninst his burly shoulder.
Two long, sad years had come and gone, and she'd
U'lillVCil nearly like a widow, never attending singings or corn
1 I'ln^s where young men and women paired up, so dis-
I ir r life. She'd even turned her back on the idea of marry-
I hinking that if Aunt Lizzie could be happy as a maidel,
! ii why couldn't she?
Mm now, with these familiar feelings stirring within, what Jtlu; to do? Yet, when all was said and done, Leah was free ' Invt* again. If I choose to, she thought, surprising herself.
Sitting this close to Gid, she felt genuinely cared for,
I' iked after . . . even cherished. She was wary of the feeling
In 'd missed it so desperately after she and Jonas split up. Now
In- was afraid it might overcome her, because as they rode
if n% she suddenly knew she wanted more, wanted to drown
In i resentment toward Sadie in Gid's loving arms.
When they neared the turnoff to the Peachey farm, he I . I .^1, "Do you mind if I walk you home? We could cut
1111' m i>;h the field, if that's all right with you."
I She said she didn't mind, and right then she realized how
I1 I n| hIk1 was. This happy night had completely changed her ! in look. Gone was her impatience to get home. Something
I1 nder that had died in her was beginning to revive, and at
I11 in moment, she felt she might at last be able to cast aside
65 66
-Lu jQt
the stranglehold of sadness and animosity hindering her path.Just look at the smithy and Miriam Peachey . . . how happy theyare, she told herself. If Gid's father was as loving to his mother as Leah had always observed him to be, then Gid would also be a compassionate husband, wouldn't he? How foolish of her to pass up the chance to be loved so dearly, to be so cornpletely adored.
She found herself thinking ahead to what it might be like to accept Gid's hand, to live with him and cherish him, to care for their little ones ... to be his devoted helpmeet. As thoughtful and kind as he was, how hard would it be to follow her heart if truly her heart was coming round, as it seemed to be?
Lest Leah was getting ahead of herself, she chased such thoughts away, but she was altogether pleased she and Gid had yet another few minutes to spend together this night.
They were enveloped in the green scent of jagged grass and the dank smell of cow pies as they strolled through the wide field between the Ebersol and Peachey farms.
The roof of her father's barn caught Leah's eye, the brilliant reflection of the moon dousing the silvery tin with its whiteness. She heard what she thought was one of their mules braying. Mules weren't nearly as stubborn as some folks seemed to think. They could be coaxed, not easily, but persuaded nevertheless to work the narrowest sections of the field. And mules required less feed and had greater fortitude than horses. ,. , .:. , , . , , . ,
67C- n e CDacrifice ' ' '
H Old glanced over at the barn. "What's the racket over
Hrs?"
H "Must be a bat tormenting the livestock." She looked up HDkl. "Ever see one lunge at a mule?" H To this they both laughed, and she welcomed his hand Hdlng hers. His companionably firm clasp made her own Hftcl sivm small and almost fragile, and once again she was Hftk\l lit the long-dormant stirring within. She moved along Hhln side, keeping pace with his stride. H "Speaking of mules," Gid said halfway across the field, ^wlju ever hear of certain long-ago ministers sayin' it was ^tnisive to mix God's creatures because our heavenly Father Hin'l create such an animal in the first place? Like breeding Hiorse and a donkey to produce a mule." H
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