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will be very good friends.”

C HAPTER 3
    Deborah found her homecoming bittersweet. The longing for home and family had nearly consumed her in Philadelphia, mixed with an equal measure of regret. Well, maybe not so much regret as concern.
    And yet that wasn’t exactly right, either.
    A fear of things changing – of losing something precious.
    Education had been an escape from the loneliness and isolation she’d known in childhood. It had given her purpose and a sense of being able to help those she loved. But because no one else in her family desired an education, Deborah felt alone.
    Living miles from any real town, Deborah had grown up with only her mother and their cook, Sissy, for female company. Later, she had a girlfriend or two at school, but they never thought or felt the same way she did. Their idea of fun was sharing new quilt patterns or parading around, vying for the attention of boys. Deborah wanted to talk about books she’d read or what was going on in the world. Unfortunately, the only ones talking about current events were the men, and they had no interest in discussing the news with the female gender. Truth be told, the men paid her little attention until she blossomed into a teenager, and by then, her heart was far more desirous of learning than loving.
    “Mama!” Deborah cried, jumping from the wagon as G. W. drew it to a stop. She ran the distance to her mother’s open arms. Two big hounds bayed a greeting and dashed across the porch to welcome her.
    “Jasper! Decatur!” Deborah lavished attention on the dogs before turning to her mother. “Where’s Lula?”
    “She’s had another litter of pups.” Her mother motioned her to turn around in a circle. “Oh, just look at you,” her mother whispered. Taking hold of Deborah’s face, she shook her head. “You are even prettier than you were the last time I saw you. I’ll bet you have the tiniest waist in the county.” She gave a quick glance past Deborah. “You boys will have your hands full keeping order with the men who come a-callin’.”
    “Mama, I missed you so much.” Deborah hugged her mother close. It wasn’t a lie. If she could have had her mother with her back East, she would have done so. “So tell me what has changed.”
    Her mother laughed. “I’m older and a little more gray, and the house is a little more worn. Guess we both are.”
    Euphanel Vandermark was not known for her great beauty, although Deborah thought her a pretty woman. She was instead known for her strength, honesty, and integrity. People knew when they made an arrangement with Mrs. Vandermark that she would keep her word.
    Standing several inches shorter than Deborah’s five-foot-six-inch frame, Euphanel Vandermark was a petite but formidable force. Uncle Arjan often teased her about being a hurricane, but Mama took no offense at such a statement. Since their father’s death, Deborah and her brothers had seen their mother triple her efforts at efficiency and productivity, but never at the expense of her beliefs. Her faith in God was her mainstay, and from that foundation, she would never be moved.
    “You don’t look a bit older,” Deborah declared. “Papa used to say you never grew older, just more beautiful.”
    Her mother’s expression softened. “He did say that quite a bit, didn’t he?”
    “And with good reason.” Deborah turned and motioned to Lizzie. “I have someone for you to meet, Mama. I hope you won’t mind, but I’ve brought a friend home with me.” Deborah reached out to Lizzie. “This is Elizabeth Decker. Call her Lizzie. She’s the young woman I roomed with – the one I often wrote you about.” Jasper and Decatur sniffed around the stranger as if to ascertain her acceptability.
    “I would recognize her anywhere,” Mother said. “You are just as beautiful as Deborah described. We’ll be pleased to have your company.”
    “Thank you.” Lizzie exchanged a look with Deborah, then turned back to the older woman. “I