Hope Chest Read Online Free PDF Page B

but he couldn’t help hearing part of Dad’s conversation with Rachel. Should he say anything about it—maybe give his thoughts on the whole thing?
    He approached his father cautiously, his mind searching for just the right words. “Say, Dad, I caught some of what you were saying to Rachel, and I was wondering if it’s such a good idea for her to be meddling in Anna’s life.”
    Dad whirled around. “If I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it.”
    “Sorry, I just thought—”
    “How much of our conversation did you hear, anyway?”
    “Just that you were hoping she could talk to Anna about giving Silas the chance to court her.”
    Dad nodded. “I said that all right.”
    Was that a look of relief he saw on his father’s face? Had he said some things to Rachel that he didn’t want Joseph to hear? If so, what had he said? Could it have been about him?
    “I like Silas. He’s a hard worker, and I think he would make Anna a fine husband, don’t you?”
    Joseph shrugged. “I suppose. I just don’t think—”
    Dad gave his stomach a couple of pats. “I don’t know about you, but my belly’s sure starting to rumble. Let’s go eat, shall we?”
    “Jah, okay.” As Joseph followed his father to the house, he wished it had been he who’d been asked to speak with Anna. Rachel and Anna had always been close, and if Rachel started butting into Anna’s business, she might not take so kindly to it. Besides, Joseph and Anna were closer in age, so she might be more apt to listen to him.
***
    The farmers’ market where Rachel and her family were heading was eight miles from their farm. Today the trip seemed even longer than usual, and the cramped quarters in the buggy combined with the hot, sticky weather didn’t help much, either. Rachel had felt a bit cross all morning, and now she was even more agitated.
    Dad and Mom rode in the front of the buggy, with Elizabeth sitting between them. Two benches in back provided seating for Rachel, Anna, Joseph, and Perry. Behind them, they’d stashed the boxes filled with produce, plants, and fresh-cut flowers. Mom’s wheelchair was scrunched in back, as well.
    The temperature was in the nineties, with humidity so high Rachel felt her dress and underclothes sticking to her body like flypaper. When they finally pulled into the parking lot, she was the first one to jump down from the buggy.
    Perry tended to the horse, while Joseph and Dad unloaded the boxes and carried them to the spot where they set up their tables. Elizabeth and Rachel followed, with Anna a few feet behind, pushing Mom’s wheelchair over the bumpy terrain.
    Everyone scurried around to help set up their tables, and soon the Beachys were open for business. People started buying right away, and whenever they were between customers, Rachel and her siblings were allowed to take turns wandering around the market.
    Rachel took a break around noontime and headed for a stand advertising cold cherry cider. A tall, gangly Amish fellow waited on her. Freckles covered his nose, and he looked to be about nineteen or twenty. Rachel didn’t recognize him and figured he must be from another district.
    “It’s a mighty hot day, isn’t it?” he asked, giving her a wide grin.
    “Jah, it surely is warm.” She handed him some money. “I’d like a glass of cherry cider, please.”
    He bent down and removed a jug from the ice chest underneath the table, then poured some of the cider into a paper cup and handed it to Rachel. “Here you go.”
    “Danki.”
    Rachel drank the cool beverage quickly, then moved on to another table where Nancy Frey, the Amish schoolteacher in their district, sold a variety of pies.
    Nancy smiled up at Rachel. “Are you here with your family?”
    “Jah. We’re selling produce and lots of flowers and plants from my folks’ greenhouse.” Rachel pointed across the way. “Our tables are over there.”
    “I sure hope business is better for you than it has been here. Pies aren’t doing so well