With trembling fingers, she traced the embroidered butlerfly on the corner of her handkerchief, made by Hannah, phe wished she might one day be like this butterfly and fly
110fcj r t'i> r I y JL. e us i s
away, to just where, she didn't know. A place called freedom, maybe.
Counting the seconds now, she wondered how much longer before she'd see Derry running through the drenched woodlands, fast as can be, to her side. Would he ask her about her Plain life and heritage this time? Whisper of his anticipation for their future together? With all her heart, she truly hoped that maybe tonight he would.
The next day was a shining afternoon, and what a good opportunity to visit Leah's dear friend, once all the barn chores were finished. It felt wonderful-gut to have some mobility back, though her ankle was still tender certain ways she walked. Together she and Adah walked slowly through the moving meadow grass toward Blackbird Pond, out behind the Peachey barn and stables.
Leah shared her newfound joy of sewing and quilting, talking up a blue streak about all she'd learned in the last few weeks. Of course, she didn't share a thing of her hopes and dreams concerning Jonas, not with Adah thinking she might like to have her best friend for a sister-in-law and all.
"Wouldn't it be ever so much fun to live like real sisters?"
Adah said. "Then I wouldn't feel so much like I'm the middle child, sandwiched in between Gid and Dorcas."
"I know how that feels," Leah replied, bypassing the real question. "Sometimes I think I'm nearly invisible in my own family."
"Ach, you, Leah?"
111 G<
ini
"Oh jah. I've always felt a bit lonely somehow. I don't iIghlly know how to explain it, really. Maybe it's . . . well, a lltrlc like the way Aunt Lizzie must surely feel."
"Seems to me middle children don't have any idea how important they are to their families," Adah said.
Leah bent down to pick a white snapdragon, growing wild in ilie expanse of grassland and flora, where meadow-foam i;ivw to be five feet tall, striking the sky with pink cottonmndy-like blossoms in June. "Children comin' along behind I he firstborn have their opinions, too, but seldom are heard ... or understood," she said softly, unsure why she'd said such a thing.
" Tis awful sad to feel lost," Adah replied, reaching for Leah's hand. "You don't feel that way now, do ya?"
"Well, no ... not when we're together." And this was ever so true. Leah and Adah were as close as any two sisters i ould hope to be. Sometimes she even wished Adah was a real sister to her. The only reason to even consider marrying ()ideon, maybe.
Handjln hand, they came upon the glassy pond, where many a happy winter day had been spent skating and playing with the Peachey children. Even now, as teenagers, they would all be out sledding and skating here once winter's first hard December freeze came and stayed through February. Wouldn't be safe to skate on Blackbird Pond otherwise, since I he water was mighty deep. Leah knew this was true, because ( ud had held his breath for forty-five long seconds just so he could dive to the bottom and touch the muddy pond bed one summer when they all were little. "It's spring fed, for sure," he'd told them after a huge gasp of air, his face raspberry red
112
from holding his breath longer than he ever had in his young life.
"We'll be together at our first singing soon," Adah spoke up.
"Jah, won't be long now."
Adah brightened. "We could ride to the local singing with Gid, in his open buggy."
"Best not."
"Well, now, what're you saying?" Adah demanded, letting go of Leah's hand.
"Just that I thought . . . well, that I'd like to go to a different one."
"Not our church district?"
"No, guess not."
"Well, we could still all ride together. Gid will take us wherever we want." Adah paused a moment, "Who you end up with after the singing . . . well, that's your business."
Still, Leah was worried Gid might think she would simply ride home with him, too. But that wasn't
110fcj r t'i> r I y JL. e us i s
away, to just where, she didn't know. A place called freedom, maybe.
Counting the seconds now, she wondered how much longer before she'd see Derry running through the drenched woodlands, fast as can be, to her side. Would he ask her about her Plain life and heritage this time? Whisper of his anticipation for their future together? With all her heart, she truly hoped that maybe tonight he would.
The next day was a shining afternoon, and what a good opportunity to visit Leah's dear friend, once all the barn chores were finished. It felt wonderful-gut to have some mobility back, though her ankle was still tender certain ways she walked. Together she and Adah walked slowly through the moving meadow grass toward Blackbird Pond, out behind the Peachey barn and stables.
Leah shared her newfound joy of sewing and quilting, talking up a blue streak about all she'd learned in the last few weeks. Of course, she didn't share a thing of her hopes and dreams concerning Jonas, not with Adah thinking she might like to have her best friend for a sister-in-law and all.
"Wouldn't it be ever so much fun to live like real sisters?"
Adah said. "Then I wouldn't feel so much like I'm the middle child, sandwiched in between Gid and Dorcas."
"I know how that feels," Leah replied, bypassing the real question. "Sometimes I think I'm nearly invisible in my own family."
"Ach, you, Leah?"
111 G<
ini
"Oh jah. I've always felt a bit lonely somehow. I don't iIghlly know how to explain it, really. Maybe it's . . . well, a lltrlc like the way Aunt Lizzie must surely feel."
"Seems to me middle children don't have any idea how important they are to their families," Adah said.
Leah bent down to pick a white snapdragon, growing wild in ilie expanse of grassland and flora, where meadow-foam i;ivw to be five feet tall, striking the sky with pink cottonmndy-like blossoms in June. "Children comin' along behind I he firstborn have their opinions, too, but seldom are heard ... or understood," she said softly, unsure why she'd said such a thing.
" Tis awful sad to feel lost," Adah replied, reaching for Leah's hand. "You don't feel that way now, do ya?"
"Well, no ... not when we're together." And this was ever so true. Leah and Adah were as close as any two sisters i ould hope to be. Sometimes she even wished Adah was a real sister to her. The only reason to even consider marrying ()ideon, maybe.
Handjln hand, they came upon the glassy pond, where many a happy winter day had been spent skating and playing with the Peachey children. Even now, as teenagers, they would all be out sledding and skating here once winter's first hard December freeze came and stayed through February. Wouldn't be safe to skate on Blackbird Pond otherwise, since I he water was mighty deep. Leah knew this was true, because ( ud had held his breath for forty-five long seconds just so he could dive to the bottom and touch the muddy pond bed one summer when they all were little. "It's spring fed, for sure," he'd told them after a huge gasp of air, his face raspberry red
112
from holding his breath longer than he ever had in his young life.
"We'll be together at our first singing soon," Adah spoke up.
"Jah, won't be long now."
Adah brightened. "We could ride to the local singing with Gid, in his open buggy."
"Best not."
"Well, now, what're you saying?" Adah demanded, letting go of Leah's hand.
"Just that I thought . . . well, that I'd like to go to a different one."
"Not our church district?"
"No, guess not."
"Well, we could still all ride together. Gid will take us wherever we want." Adah paused a moment, "Who you end up with after the singing . . . well, that's your business."
Still, Leah was worried Gid might think she would simply ride home with him, too. But that wasn't
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