Adoring Addie by Leslie Gould Page A

finger over the carving. I slipped the bookmark into the pocket of my apron.
    â€œWant to walk?” He put out his arm, and I took it, placing my hand in the crook of his elbow.
    He reached for my hand, locking his long, strong fingersthrough mine. The warmth of his rough skin sent a shiver up my spine. With each step we took along the ridge above the creek, feelings surged inside of me that I didn’t know existed.
    Jonathan threw his head back. “Look at the night sky,” he said. “Isn’t it stunning?”
    It was.
    Jonathan pointed to a lone pine towering above us to the right. “God gives us all we need. Beauty. Clothes. Food. All we need to have a relationship with him and others. And the assurance he is always present.”
    I’d never thought of God’s provision that way—nor had I heard anyone talk the way Jonathan did. Under the canopy of the night, I felt a peace I hadn’t experienced before.
    He added, “Everything to sustain life comes from God.”
    I shivered. Jonathan pulled me closer, brushing his head against my Kapp. “Ach, Addie,” he said. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt such joy.”
    If Phillip had said such a sappy thing, I would have cringed. But coming from Jonathan it sounded real.
    We walked in silence for a moment, stepping into the orchard, under the gnarly branches of the apple trees laden with green fruit. As we reached the other side, I asked about his grandfather.
    He said the old man’s health was failing, although he still seemed full of spit and vinegar and wild ideas. “He let the farm work go and didn’t ask my Onkel or cousins to help. And didn’t hire anyone. He didn’t plant any crops in the spring. He’s always had his head in the clouds, but it seems to have gotten worse.” He sighed. “My father tells me I take after him.”
    Jonathan patted my hand. “Enough about me. What’s it like to be the only girl with all those Bruders?”
    I gave him the short story of my immediate family, then mentioned Onkel Bob, Cate, and Betsy—and then my mother’s family.
    â€œThey seem to be the ones holding on to the grudge,” I said.
    â€œSpeaking of,” Jonathan said, “what’s that all about anyway?”
    I stopped walking. “I honestly don’t know.”
    Jonathan turned toward me. “Because my parents have never talked about it—I didn’t even know about it until Martin and Mervin told me. But when I asked my Dat tonight, he got angry and told me to stay away from ‘all those worthless Cramers.’”
    â€œHe hadn’t said anything about it before?”
    He shook his head. “Nothing.”
    â€œThat surprises me.”
    â€œWhy?” Jonathan put his hand on my shoulder.
    â€œI thought both our families held the grudge equally.”
    â€œThat’s just it,” he said. “Just because my Dat hasn’t talked about it doesn’t mean he doesn’t carry it. He doesn’t talk about much.”
    â€œMy Daed has hard feelings, for sure. And so does my Mutter and her family. But my Daed’s brother-in-law wants it to end.”
    We started walking again, our hands still joined.
    â€œJah,” Jonathan said. “Mervin and Martin both said your Onkel Bob is a good man.” He stopped abruptly, both talking and walking, and then cleared his throat. “I didn’t mean that your father and Bruders aren’t.”
    â€œAch,” I said, pulling him along. “You’re right. They’re all good men. It’s just the ones in my immediate family aren’t as wise as Onkel Bob.” I explained that he’d been married to my Aenti, Daed’s sister, who died when Betsy was born, when I was just a baby.
    My paternal grandmother helped Bob with the girls until she died years ago, and my parents always seemed to respect Bob. “However,” I said, “my