here.” Miriam settled into her own bed and also kicked the covers to the bottom. “I plan to be baptized in the fall, and. . .” And marry Saul someday . She smiled as she thought about her future. “And someday I’ll get married and start a family of my own.”
“Aren’t you curious, you know. . . about everything outside of here?”
“No. I’m in my rumschpringe . That means that at sixteen, we get to experience the outside world, then choose if we want to stay here and be baptized as a member of the community, or leave.” Miriam fluffed her pillow as she spoke. “So I think I’ve seen enough of the Englisch world the past couple of years. It’s not for me.”
Shelby twisted to face Miriam, then tapped a finger to her chin. “How many leave here?”
“Hardly any. I mean, a few do. But most of us stay.” Miriam smiled slightly. “It’s all we know, but what we know is gut , and I can’t imagine living anywhere else.”
“Who is Saul?”
Miriam sighed as she recalled the gentle way Saul brushed back a strand of her hair earlier that day, the feel of his touch. “A friend.” “You like him. I can tell.” Shelby smiled a bit.
“ Ya , I guess I do.” She reached over and turned the flame on the gas lantern up since nightfall was upon them, then she eased down in the bed and propped herself up on one elbow. “What about you? Do you have a boyfriend in Texas?”
They both jumped when a gust of wind blew in through the screen and caused the green blind to bounce against the open window.
“I did . His name is Tommy.” She shuffled in her bed. “He broke up with me when my parents were—were going through their divorce. I had thought. . . well, I thought we might get married someday.”
“I’m sorry.” Miriam had never had a real boyfriend. She’d been carted home by plenty of boys following Sunday singings since she’d turned sixteen, but her heart belonged to Saul. She knew she would wait for him.
“It’s okay. I really don’t care.”
Somehow Miriam didn’t think that to be true. “Was he your boyfriend for a long time?” Miriam wanted to ask if they had kissed, but she didn’t even know Shelby. That was something she might ask Leah or Hannah.
“About six months. Until things got bad with my family.” She paused, then also propped herself up on one elbow and faced Miriam. They each strained to see each other over the nightstand in between them, so Miriam shifted upward a bit. Shelby did too. “Then he said I was sad all the time.”
They were quiet for a while. “Are you still sad?” Miriam knew it was a dumb question. Of course she was sad. Her parents had recently divorced. “I mean, are you sad about him ? Do you miss him?”
“No.”
Again Miriam suspected otherwise.
“Did anyone tell you that breakfast is at four thirty?”
Shelby bolted upward, and Miriam could tell she was straining to see past the lantern in between them. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No. We start our day early. The cows have to be milked, which Daed and the boys take care of. I usually go to the henhouse and collect eggs while Mamm gets breakfast started. Tomorrow is church service, so we will travel to the Dienner farm for that. We don’t work on Sundays, but during the week, Mamm and I start the day by weeding the garden before the heat of the day is on us. Then we do our baking, and. . .” Miriam didn’t want to overwhelm her cousin, so she trailed off with a sigh.
“I guess that’s why everyone is already in bed, then.” Shelby glanced at the battery-operated clock on the nightstand. “At eight thirty.”
“ Ya . Early to bed, early to rise.” Miriam smiled, then turned the small fan on the nightstand toward Shelby. “Batteries. Sure saves us from the summer heat.”
“It’s not so bad.”
Miriam chuckled. “Wait until August.”
They were quiet again for a while, then Miriam reached over to extinguish the lantern. “Guess we’d best sleep. Morning