taken him long to ask if he could take her home, but she had kept him at a distance for weeks before finally saying yes.
Leah darted a glance at Sara, noticing the lowered chin and flushed cheeks. She was fair and redheaded, freckled and delicate in manner and appearance. Leah had a hard time imagining Sara tending a challenging farm alongside her husband, much less bearing children and handling a home, but she could understand Sara’s sweet nature attracting Daniel.
Sara swallowed and lifted her gaze to the road ahead. “Daniel’s making progress on it. He had some friends come and help him last week. They painted most of the rooms so the house is ready for our furniture now.”
Both girls lapsed into silence while Leah concentrated on a particularly dangerous curve and hill that hid their buggy from any traffic coming upon them. Sara shifted sideways to keep an eye out for fast-moving cars and trucks on the highway behind their buggy, her fingers clenched over the back of the seat. Leah realized her own knuckles were white and forced herself to relax her grasp on the reins.
Once they crested the rise and started down the other side, the remaining route into Ashfield was flat and straight.
Leah sighed in relief. There shouldn’t be as much danger now, as long as Sparky behaved himself and cars were careful of them. The locals were adept at watching for the black buggies, but visitors, distracted by phones or unfamiliar routes, sometimes overtook the slow-traveling vehicles and the results could be fatal. On occasion, even the Amish forgot to be cautious. One time, her uncle absentmindedly turned his horse and buggy left into the side of a passing minivan. Luckily, no one was hurt, but his horse suffered an injury that took time to heal. Sharing modern roads with Englishers was never an easy situation.
Sara’s continued silence brought a question to Leah’s mind: Could she have heard about Martha? Had the community gossip caused Daniel’s fiancée to wonder about Leah’s association with the rebellious teen?
It wouldn’t surprise her. Rumors flew through Amish communities quickly, and Leah had no doubt that Martha and Abe’s doings provided much fodder for gossip and innuendo. Martha might even be disciplined soon; most everyone had already given up on Abe.
At last the two young ladies reached their destination. The fabric store was busy when they entered. Amish and English women mingled together in the crowded store, their lively chatter creating a loud buzz of conversation. Sara and Leah meandered through the rows of fabric bolts until they found the calicoes and plain fabrics at the back of the shop.
Leah waited patiently while Sara searched through the variety of bolted blues, leaning one against the other while she fingered the heft and weight of the materials. She settled on a plain length of fine cotton in a robin’s egg hue.
“This is perfect. I love the feel of the fabric, too.”
Leah nodded. The weight of the woven cloth created a lovely drape. To be sure it fit with the Ordnung ’s rule that the textile not be sheer, she stretched the blue fabric over her hand and held it to the light. “See? Nothing shows through. This ought to be okay.”
Sara waited for the fabric to be measured and cut, then gathered the tissue-wrapped bundle and followed Leah out the door.
“Do we have time to stop by the grocery?” Sara held the packaged fabric to her brow, sheltering her eyes from the harsh afternoon sun.
Leah considered. It would take another thirty minutes to return home, but the day was still young.
After untying Sparky, they made their way slowly through the downtown traffic, the horse’s shoes clopping against the hot roadway.
The grocery parking lot was full of cars, but at the back under the shade of several gnarled maples, hitching posts waited for the horses and buggies of Amish customers.
She hopped down and secured Sparky’s reins to the post as Sara headed into the store. The
Leah darted a glance at Sara, noticing the lowered chin and flushed cheeks. She was fair and redheaded, freckled and delicate in manner and appearance. Leah had a hard time imagining Sara tending a challenging farm alongside her husband, much less bearing children and handling a home, but she could understand Sara’s sweet nature attracting Daniel.
Sara swallowed and lifted her gaze to the road ahead. “Daniel’s making progress on it. He had some friends come and help him last week. They painted most of the rooms so the house is ready for our furniture now.”
Both girls lapsed into silence while Leah concentrated on a particularly dangerous curve and hill that hid their buggy from any traffic coming upon them. Sara shifted sideways to keep an eye out for fast-moving cars and trucks on the highway behind their buggy, her fingers clenched over the back of the seat. Leah realized her own knuckles were white and forced herself to relax her grasp on the reins.
Once they crested the rise and started down the other side, the remaining route into Ashfield was flat and straight.
Leah sighed in relief. There shouldn’t be as much danger now, as long as Sparky behaved himself and cars were careful of them. The locals were adept at watching for the black buggies, but visitors, distracted by phones or unfamiliar routes, sometimes overtook the slow-traveling vehicles and the results could be fatal. On occasion, even the Amish forgot to be cautious. One time, her uncle absentmindedly turned his horse and buggy left into the side of a passing minivan. Luckily, no one was hurt, but his horse suffered an injury that took time to heal. Sharing modern roads with Englishers was never an easy situation.
Sara’s continued silence brought a question to Leah’s mind: Could she have heard about Martha? Had the community gossip caused Daniel’s fiancée to wonder about Leah’s association with the rebellious teen?
It wouldn’t surprise her. Rumors flew through Amish communities quickly, and Leah had no doubt that Martha and Abe’s doings provided much fodder for gossip and innuendo. Martha might even be disciplined soon; most everyone had already given up on Abe.
At last the two young ladies reached their destination. The fabric store was busy when they entered. Amish and English women mingled together in the crowded store, their lively chatter creating a loud buzz of conversation. Sara and Leah meandered through the rows of fabric bolts until they found the calicoes and plain fabrics at the back of the shop.
Leah waited patiently while Sara searched through the variety of bolted blues, leaning one against the other while she fingered the heft and weight of the materials. She settled on a plain length of fine cotton in a robin’s egg hue.
“This is perfect. I love the feel of the fabric, too.”
Leah nodded. The weight of the woven cloth created a lovely drape. To be sure it fit with the Ordnung ’s rule that the textile not be sheer, she stretched the blue fabric over her hand and held it to the light. “See? Nothing shows through. This ought to be okay.”
Sara waited for the fabric to be measured and cut, then gathered the tissue-wrapped bundle and followed Leah out the door.
“Do we have time to stop by the grocery?” Sara held the packaged fabric to her brow, sheltering her eyes from the harsh afternoon sun.
Leah considered. It would take another thirty minutes to return home, but the day was still young.
After untying Sparky, they made their way slowly through the downtown traffic, the horse’s shoes clopping against the hot roadway.
The grocery parking lot was full of cars, but at the back under the shade of several gnarled maples, hitching posts waited for the horses and buggies of Amish customers.
She hopped down and secured Sparky’s reins to the post as Sara headed into the store. The
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