stories once again. She missed her sweet, crooked smile and her soft laugh. But most of all, she felt less alone about having missed the mark with Caleb—her past sin all washed clean now—when she thought of Mammi Hannah’s girlhood pranks.
The Good Book said her heart was white as the driven snow, and deep inside, where no one could steal it away, Nellie had the promise of salvation. The knowledge brought her such joy she wanted to tell everyone.
Opening the mailbox, she discovered letters. Already! So she’d missed getting Treva’s letter out. It’ll go tomorrow, then.
She looked through the mail and was happy to see a letter from Cousin Treva herself. “Well, look at this.” Thrilled, she hurried up the drive, toward the bakery shop.
“Anything interesting?” asked Nan when she entered.
“Treva wrote.” She handed the letters to her sister.
“Anything for Mamma?”
“Didn’t bother to look.” Nellie pushed Treva’s letter into her pocket, relishing the thought of reading it later.
“I’m afraid Mamma’s not feelin’ so well. I sent her to the house to lie down.”
“Oh? Something she ate?”
Nan shrugged. “Hard to say.”
“Maybe it’s
because of Emmie Yoder’s response to the food Mamma took over there. Sure would be upsetting to be turned away. . . .” Only someone as stubborn as the Yoders would turn down Nellie’s cooking. But Nellie dismissed the thought.
“Jah, rejected by folk who used to be our friends,” Nan added. “The Yoders haven’t heeded Uncle Bishop’s plea not to shun the New Order folk who left during the grace period.” Nan came to sit down at one of the small round tables with Nellie.
Nellie knew this all too well. “How’s Rebekah doin’, since she moved out?”
“Well, I know it’s awful hard living away from her family.” Nan glanced out the window, a faraway look in her eye. “And now this sad thing with her father. She must not know what to think. Or do.”
“Won’t she want to move home to help?” Nellie asked.
“Dat says David Yoder summoned Caleb to return home yesterday.”
She blushed suddenly. “He did?” This was the first she’d heard it.
Nan smiled kindly, reaching for her hand. “Honestly, Nellie Mae, you act like a girl in love.”
Embarrassed, she looked away. Guess I still am. . . .
“Truth is, I believe I’m fallin’ in love myself. Little by little.” Nan began to share about her new beau—a fellow she’d met at Preacher Manny’s church—and Nellie was glad to listen. “He’s such a hard worker and bright as can be. Treats his driving horse so wonderful-nice—”
“And you, too, Nan?”
Nan nodded, her face rosy. “Ach, you just don’t know.”
“Well, I can imagine.” Nellie was more than happy for her sister. “I hope he keeps on bein’ kind and loving.”
“He is that.” Nan was nodding emphatically. “I have a feeling he’s the one.”
“So you’ll be tying the knot come weddin’ season?”
Nan’s eyes were bright with excitement. “Thank the dear Lord, is all I can say.” She put her hand on her heart. “I would never have believed a new love could nearly erase the sadness of the old.”
“Does this wonderful-gut fella have a name?”
Nan looked at her shyly all of a sudden. “I’d best be waitin’ to say.”
“Keepin’ secrets from your own sister?” She laughed; she’d expected as much.
“Jah, ’specially.” Nan gave her a mischievous smile and squeezed her hand. “I do love you, Nellie Mae. I’ll tell you in time, I promise.”
“Well, as long as you’ve promised . . .”
With that, Nan turned right into Nellie’s arms and gave her a joyful hug. Even so, Nellie couldn’t help but worry. Will this one be Nan’s husband someday?
An hour later, after the bakery shop was closed and supper was laid out on the table—while they waited for Dat to come in from the barn—Nellie read Treva’s letter silently.
Dear Cousin Nellie,
I have so much to tell
The Good Book said her heart was white as the driven snow, and deep inside, where no one could steal it away, Nellie had the promise of salvation. The knowledge brought her such joy she wanted to tell everyone.
Opening the mailbox, she discovered letters. Already! So she’d missed getting Treva’s letter out. It’ll go tomorrow, then.
She looked through the mail and was happy to see a letter from Cousin Treva herself. “Well, look at this.” Thrilled, she hurried up the drive, toward the bakery shop.
“Anything interesting?” asked Nan when she entered.
“Treva wrote.” She handed the letters to her sister.
“Anything for Mamma?”
“Didn’t bother to look.” Nellie pushed Treva’s letter into her pocket, relishing the thought of reading it later.
“I’m afraid Mamma’s not feelin’ so well. I sent her to the house to lie down.”
“Oh? Something she ate?”
Nan shrugged. “Hard to say.”
“Maybe it’s
because of Emmie Yoder’s response to the food Mamma took over there. Sure would be upsetting to be turned away. . . .” Only someone as stubborn as the Yoders would turn down Nellie’s cooking. But Nellie dismissed the thought.
“Jah, rejected by folk who used to be our friends,” Nan added. “The Yoders haven’t heeded Uncle Bishop’s plea not to shun the New Order folk who left during the grace period.” Nan came to sit down at one of the small round tables with Nellie.
Nellie knew this all too well. “How’s Rebekah doin’, since she moved out?”
“Well, I know it’s awful hard living away from her family.” Nan glanced out the window, a faraway look in her eye. “And now this sad thing with her father. She must not know what to think. Or do.”
“Won’t she want to move home to help?” Nellie asked.
“Dat says David Yoder summoned Caleb to return home yesterday.”
She blushed suddenly. “He did?” This was the first she’d heard it.
Nan smiled kindly, reaching for her hand. “Honestly, Nellie Mae, you act like a girl in love.”
Embarrassed, she looked away. Guess I still am. . . .
“Truth is, I believe I’m fallin’ in love myself. Little by little.” Nan began to share about her new beau—a fellow she’d met at Preacher Manny’s church—and Nellie was glad to listen. “He’s such a hard worker and bright as can be. Treats his driving horse so wonderful-nice—”
“And you, too, Nan?”
Nan nodded, her face rosy. “Ach, you just don’t know.”
“Well, I can imagine.” Nellie was more than happy for her sister. “I hope he keeps on bein’ kind and loving.”
“He is that.” Nan was nodding emphatically. “I have a feeling he’s the one.”
“So you’ll be tying the knot come weddin’ season?”
Nan’s eyes were bright with excitement. “Thank the dear Lord, is all I can say.” She put her hand on her heart. “I would never have believed a new love could nearly erase the sadness of the old.”
“Does this wonderful-gut fella have a name?”
Nan looked at her shyly all of a sudden. “I’d best be waitin’ to say.”
“Keepin’ secrets from your own sister?” She laughed; she’d expected as much.
“Jah, ’specially.” Nan gave her a mischievous smile and squeezed her hand. “I do love you, Nellie Mae. I’ll tell you in time, I promise.”
“Well, as long as you’ve promised . . .”
With that, Nan turned right into Nellie’s arms and gave her a joyful hug. Even so, Nellie couldn’t help but worry. Will this one be Nan’s husband someday?
An hour later, after the bakery shop was closed and supper was laid out on the table—while they waited for Dat to come in from the barn—Nellie read Treva’s letter silently.
Dear Cousin Nellie,
I have so much to tell
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