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back on the swing she began to rock more quickly. “It’s past time that she took the notice of a young man. There was never any her age in Africa or in the Caribbean she felt she could talk to.”
    “But the Amish do not have boyfriends and girlfriends, remember.” Ruth helped her younger sister keep the swing moving. “ Ja , there is always friendship. But if young people feel anything more than that, it becomes a matter of courting and marriage. And he is the bishop’s grandson. They will not be allowed to date as the English do.”
    Lyyndaya flicked her hand at a mosquito. “No one is talking about romance, Ruthie. Just a boy to be friends with. If she makes a girl her friend as well so much the better.”
    “Young Moses is considered quite the catch. So tall and handsome and sweet. All the girls will be jealous.”
    “Oh, Ruthie. Nothing will come of it. Becky will never give up her airplanes or the sky. No matter how charming Moses is.”

T HREE
    T he sunlight finally woke Becky when it fell across her face. After lingering a moment, she sat up, climbed out of bed, slipped on her dress, splashed some water on her face from the basin on the washstand, and rushed downstairs, pinning up her hair as she went. Grandmother Kurtz was alone in the kitchen, fussing with a tray of freshly baked loaves of bread. Her smile upon seeing her granddaughter was quick and bright.
    “Ah, child. You must be hungry.”
    Becky hugged her. “Grandma, I’m so sorry I slept in. Where is everyone?”
    “Up and about. Here and there. Your father is helping Luke with his hay cutting. Lyyndy just finished the milking. Grandpa is with the horses.” She put on mitts and brought a plate of pancakes out of the warming oven. “Sit down. Give thanks. Eat.” She placed a large mason jar of maple syrup on the table with a thump and added a rectangle of pale butter. “I just made the butter this morning.”
    Becky sat down and prayed and ate.
    “When you’re done just put your things in the sink.” Grandmother Kurtz was placing loaves on the sills of open windows to cool. “Tomorrow we have the worship service in our barn. So Ruth is there with your mother getting it ready, laying down fresh straw. They would welcome your help.”
    “Of course.” Becky drank her tall glass of cold milk in one gulp and pushed herself back from the table. “It was delicious, Grandma.”
    “ Vas ? You only ate three pancakes.”
    “I’m stuffed.”
    “It has to last you until lunch. Put this piece of bread in the pocket of your dress in case you feel faint.”
    “Grandma—”
    Grandmother Kurtz stuffed it into Becky’s pocket herself. “There. Gut . Now you go to the barn. They need you.”
    The barn was empty of horses or cattle or farming equipment. At first, walking from the brilliant sunshine into the gloom of the barn’s interior, Becky couldn’t see anyone. But then her mother called to her and as her eyes adjusted she saw Aunt Ruth was only a few feet away sweeping. Her mother was pitching clean straw over the floor.
    “Becky, grab another pitchfork. There’s one right behind you. There is so much else to do. We need to finish up in here.”
    Becky had no trouble spotting the pitchfork or the pile of hay her mother was using. She carried heaps of it to other parts of the barn and scattered it. Once Ruth was happy with her sweeping, she found a third pitchfork and joined Lyyndaya and Becky.
    Ruth smiled at Becky as they tossed hay onto the floor side by side. “How did you sleep?”
    Becky made a face. “It was perfect. But you should have awakened me.”
    “Did you get some breakfast?”
    “No one can get past Grandma Kurtz without breakfast.”
    Lyyndaya leaned on her pitchfork a moment. “Or lunch. Or supper. Or bedtime snacks. That’s the way she’s always been.”
    Becky looked around the barn. “Are we going to sit on the floor?”
    She had scarcely asked the question before there was a jingle of harness and a shout: “