Her New Amish Family

“I respect the way you’re raising your kinner and I want to instruct the buwe according to your guidelines,” she said. “Do you have a few minutes to talk about that now?”

“Jah.” Seth grinned, and his jawline visibly softened as he sank into the sofa.

First, Trina hoped she put Seth’s mind at ease by telling him she shared his strong Christian faith. Then they briefly discussed his expectations of the boys as well as their interests and the activities they were forbidden to do. Nothing Seth mentioned seemed unduly prohibitive or out of the ordinary to Trina, but she was glad they’d had the discussion anyway.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then?” Seth confirmed as he was leaving.

Did Trina catch a note of uncertainty in his voice? “Jah, I’ll be there bright and early at seven forty-five,” she assured him.

“Then I’ll be sure to set the rooster for six forty-five,” he said over his shoulder before closing the door, and Trina laughed in spite of herself.

Her supper had cooled but she didn’t care. The casserole was so delicious she couldn’t believe she’d made it herself—well, with advice from Martha. Trina never had much interest in cooking, aside from a few traditional Amish desserts her mother taught her to make. Usually by the time she returned home from work she was so hungry and worn out she would just to throw a meal into the microwave.

She was pleased to see the basket contained eggs, milk and half a loaf of bread. Martha was as thoughtful and generous as Trina’s mother had said she was. Her tummy full, Trina washed the dishes and before she got ready for bed, she retrieved her cell phone and set its alarm. She didn’t want to be late again, especially now that she and Seth were on better terms with each other.

* * *

Once he’d cleared the air with Trina, Seth felt more comfortable having her mind the boys, who relished their time with her. Each evening when he came to the door, they regaled him with anecdotes about the adventures they’d had with her during the day. And although his grandmother had always been lively, she seemed even sprightlier now. Seth couldn’t tell whether that was because Trina had taken over the boy’s care, or because Martha enjoyed having the company of another woman, but he was pleased the arrangement was off to a good start.

On Saturday he woke to the racket of raindrops pummeling the rooftop and he eased out of bed. After milking the cow, he collected eggs from the henhouse. Usually this was Tanner and Timothy’s responsibility, but it was raining too hard to allow them to go outside.

When Seth returned to the house, Tanner was standing in the kitchen, knuckling his eyes sleepily. “Daed, is it time for Trina to kumme yet?”

“She doesn’t kumme until you and your brother have changed into your clothes, eaten your breakfast and brushed your teeth. I already collected the oier because it’s raining and I don’t want you to go outside today unless it stops.”

“We’re teaching Trina how to collect oier, too, but she’s afraid to put her hand in the coop. She thinks the hinkel will peck her. Groossmammi told us it isn’t kind to laugh at her so we never do,” Tanner reported solemnly. Then he corrected himself, admitting, “We did laugh the first time, Daed. But we never do anymore. Not even when she’s scared and she jumps like this.”

Tanner’s imitation of Trina’s jitters reminded Seth of how she’d flinched when he opened the cupboard to check for the mouse, and he suppressed a chuckle. “Groossmammi is right. It isn’t kind to laugh at Trina. Most Englischers buy their eggs in a store, but in time she’ll learn how to collect oier from the henhouse. Now go wake your brother.”

Tanner obediently thumped back upstairs. Meanwhile, Martha shuffled into the room. Anticipating her question, Seth said, “Guder mariye, Groossmammi. I haven’t made kaffi yet but I’ll get it started as soon as I put these oier in the pot to boil.”

“Denki, but I can fix breakfast for us.” Martha removed a pot from the cupboard. With her back to him, she added, “Don’t stand there watching me. I still know my way around a pot of oier. I only had an accident the other day because I wasn’t used to Abe’s stove.”

Seth left the room to wash his hands, returning a few minutes later with Timothy and Tanner. After breakfast Martha served coffee while the boys went to brush their teeth.

Seth took a long pull from his mug and then said, “I probably won’t be home until around suppertime tonight.”

“Why not? You don’t keep the shop open past two o’clock on Saturdays during winter.”

Even though his grandmother knew he intended to eventually visit a matchmaker in the neighboring Elmsville district, Seth felt embarrassed to remind her about it now. “I, uh, I’m going to see Belinda Imhoff this afternoon.”

Martha stopped sipping her coffee. “Ah, I see. Then I guess we’ll have to do our shopping at the Englisch market tonight instead of the one on Main Street this afternoon.”

“If you write out a list for me, I can pick up what you need before I set off to Elmsville. It’s chilly enough that the perishables will keep in the buggy until I get home.”

“Neh, I’d rather go. It will get me out of the house. Besides, Trina will need to kumme shopping, too.”

“Trina? With us?” Seth questioned.

“Jah. In case you haven’t noticed, she doesn’t have a car and it wouldn’t do her any gut to walk to the market in town, since it’s closed by the time you return in the evenings. I don’t know how she has any stamina to keep up with the boys. I try to get her to eat more at dinnertime, but she refuses. I think she feels as if she should bring her own dinner, which is lecherich.”

“Neh, I doubt that’s it. She’s probably just on a diet. You know how the Englisch are.”

“I know how people are. Englisch or Amish, they need food in their houses.”

Seth pulled on his beard. As grateful as he was for Trina’s help, he worried about the boys becoming confused about her role in their lives. This was only a temporary employment situation. If Martha kept treating Trina like one of the family, it could lead to disappointment for Timothy and Tanner once she left.

“I don’t think it’s a gut idea for her to accompany us to the market,” he said.

“Jah, you’re right.” Martha gave in so easily it surprised Seth—until she proposed, “She’d probably prefer going to the market alone anyway. So, instead of going to see Belinda Imhoff this afternoon, perhaps you could kumme home and teach Trina how to hitch the buggy and handle the horse. That way, she’ll be all set to go to the market on her own during the day on Monday. I’ll watch the kinner while she’s gone. If they’re napping, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

Seth shook his head incredulously. “Neh. She’s not going to use my horse and buggy any more than I’d drive her car.”

“Gut. Then you’ll put off going to Elmsville this afternoon so we can all make it to the market in town before it closes,” Martha stated as if it were a done deed.

Although frustrated, Seth knew he couldn’t compete with his grandmother’s cunning logic. “Alright. She can accompany us to the Englisch store in Highland Springs tonight.”

His grandmother smiled in his direction. “The buwe will be delighted.”

On that note, Timothy and Tanner scrambled into the room, dragged a chair to the window and climbed atop it together to watch for Trina.

“There she is,” shouted Timothy. They got down and ran to open the door.

“Hurry, Trina. It’s raining!” Tanner called, as if she wasn’t aware.

“Guder mariye,” she sang out, shaking raindrops from her long hair after she hung up her jacket. “What a wunderbaar day.”

“You’re joking now but wait until you’ve been shut indoors all day,” Seth said. “I don’t want the buwe going outside. Do you hear me, Timothy and Tanner?”

“Jah, Daed,” they chorused.

“That’s alright. We’re going to play a rainy-day animal game inside. It’s called Noah’s Ark,” Trina promised and the boys capered in circles around her. Turning to Seth she added, “If I remember correctly, Bible stories are permitted, jah?”

Seth’s ears and forehead stung. She was being cheeky, but it didn’t feel offensive like the brazen remarks some of his Englisch customers made. “Of course Bible stories are allowed, provided they’re in German, since that’s the language our Bibles are printed in and the language our preachers speak when they’re delivering a sermon.”

“Naturlich werde ich sprechen Deutsche.” In German Trina said of course she’d speak in German. Seth had only meant to be facetious. He didn’t realize she actually knew the language. Once again, he felt his face flush.

But his ultimate embarrassment came when his grandmother bid him goodbye. “Mach’s gut, Seth. I hope your meeting with the matchmaker goes well. We’ll have supper on the table and you can tell us all about it tonight!”

The youth in Willow Creek usually made a rigorous effort to keep their courtships private, even from their family members. Since Seth had already been married once, he didn’t exercise the same level of discretion about courtship when speaking with his grandmother now as he would have when he was younger. Still, he was thoroughly abashed to have her announce his intention of going to a matchmaker in front of Trina. Realizing his humiliation wasn’t so much because Trina was Englisch as it was because she was a woman, he couldn’t get out of the house fast enough.

Chapter Three

Trina felt sorry for Seth. He clearly was embarrassed that Martha had said anything about him going to a matchmaker, especially in front of her. But the boys clamored for Trina’s attention and she turned her focus to them.

“How do we play Noah’s Ark?” Timothy asked.

“We start by reading Noah’s story in the Bible,” Trina told them. They sat on the braided rug in front of the woodstove while Trina read to them from the book of Genesis and Martha listened from her spot in the rocking chair. When Trina finished the passage, she instructed the boys to go into the hall and agree on an animal to imitate. When Trina called them into the room, which they were pretending was an ark, they were to enter as a pair, miming their chosen animal. If Trina guessed what they were, they’d go back into the hall and return as a different pair of animals. The boys loved the game and Trina and Martha were entertained by their imitations.

“You have such a way with kinner,” Martha later complimented her as she and Trina were preparing dinner together.

“Denki.” Trina placed the bread Martha had coached her to make on the cutting board.

“You’ll make a wunderbaar mamm someday soon, too,” Martha said. “Is there a special man in your life in Philadelphia? Someone you’re...how do the Englisch say it? Dating?”

“Jah,” Trina responded absentmindedly. The bread hadn’t risen as high as she anticipated it would and it seemed tough. “I mean, jah, we call it dating. But neh, I’m not dating anyone.”

Martha clicked her tongue. “Those Englisch men can’t be too smart to let such a kind, bright and becoming maedel like you pass them by.”

Trina laughed. “I don’t meet that many Englisch men. Most of my time is spent at school where there are only two male teachers and both are married. I’ve dated a couple of men I knew from church, but those relationships didn’t last. Besides, I’m not really interested in getting married.” She extended the loaf of bread in Martha’s direction. “Does this feel hard to you?”

Martha took it from her. “Perhaps. The rainy weather probably affected the yeast.”

“Oh, neh. I wanted it to turn out!”

“It’s alright, dear. The buwe won’t mind.”

It wasn’t the boys Trina was worried about; it was Seth. For some reason, she wanted to prove to him she wasn’t the microwaving sort of cook he probably took her for. Even if she was.

After they’d eaten dinner, Martha had intended to tell the boys a story while Trina cleaned up in the kitchen, but the older woman had a koppweh, a headache.

“It’s the light,” she explained. “If there’s a white glare like there is today, it bothers my eyes. If I turn on a lamp at night, I see halos. If I’m out in the sun, my eyes hurt then, too.”

“Would you like an aspirin?” Trina offered.

“I’m afraid we’re out. That was one of the items on my grocery list.”

“I might have some at my house. Let me run over and get them.”

“Can we kumme?” the boys pleaded, but Trina reminded them their father said they couldn’t go out in the rain, so she dashed home by herself.

She quickly searched her toiletry bag, but she hadn’t any bottles of aspirin in it. There was, however, a pair of sunglasses. Maybe they would help. Trina slipped them into her pocket and bounded back to Seth and Martha’s house.

“Oh, that does feel better, dear. Denki,” Martha said after she’d put the lenses on over her own glasses.

“Groossmammi, you look voll schpass.” Of course Tanner would think she looked very funny; he’d probably never seen mirrored lenses before.

“I can see me in your eyes,” Timothy declared. He made a funny face in front of Martha and studied his reflection.

“Buwe, I’d like you to help me in the kitchen. Tanner, you may sweep while Timothy brings the dirty plates to the sink,” Trina instructed. Then she asked Martha if she could get her anything else, but Martha said she was just going to sit there and take a quick catnap.

“Katze don’t nap sitting up. They curl around like this.” Timothy fell to the floor to demonstrate. Chuckling, Trina beckoned him to his feet again.

“Daed says we can’t have katze in the house,” Tanner explained as he followed Trina and Timothy. “Groossmammi’s ’lergic. That means she sneezes when she touches katz fur.”

Trina suddenly understood their fascination with pretending to be animals. “Do you know what makes me sneeze? It starts with the letter S.” She emphasized the S sound.

“Snakes?”

“Skunks?”

“Neh. Soap!” Trina exclaimed as she scooped a handful of dish soap bubbles over the boys’ heads and pretended to sneeze, blowing the bubbles everywhere. Timothy and Tanner whooped and tried to catch them. Despite their exuberance, it was time for their nap, so when they finished cleaning the kitchen, Trina tucked them into their beds and returned to the parlor where Martha was rummaging through a bag of fabric.

“I thought you were going to rest,” Trina commented.

“I did. Now let’s get you started on making a new skirt.”

Martha instructed Trina how to take her measurements and began guiding her through creating a pattern. Trina made so many erasures she figured that even though Martha’s vision was impaired the older woman could do a better job of it.

“It’s alright. Take your time,” Martha said the fourth time Trina botched her penciling. As Trina erased the markings, Martha hummed, but it wasn’t a hymn from the Ausbund.

“My mamm taught me that one,” Trina said and sang a few lines. “She usually hummed or sang while she was sewing. Did she learn to do that from you?”

Martha smiled. “More likely, I learned to do that from her. Sometimes when Patience used to kumme over, we’d sit here sewing together. If we weren’t talking, she was always humming or singing. At the time, my husband, Jacob, thought it was because she was so happy.”

Trina stopped erasing. “But you knew that wasn’t the reason,” she said quietly, knowing the answer.

“Jah, I knew it wasn’t the reason.” Martha nodded. “I knew it was because she couldn’t stand the silence in her house. Singing or humming was her way of keeping herself company.”

A fat tear plopped onto the paper Trina was bending over. She was simultaneously relieved her mother had had someone like Martha in her life who understood her so well, yet saddened to be reminded of her mother’s loneliness as a child. She might have started crying in earnest if Timothy and Tanner hadn’t clomped into the room at just that moment.

Martha decided to lie down while Trina accompanied the boys to the basement. Largely empty, the room served as an ideal place for them to ride their bicycles—with training wheels attached—during inclement weather, but Trina liked to be present to make sure they didn’t pedal too fast, since the floor was cement and she didn’t want them getting hurt.

Much to Trina’s relief, it was soon time to make supper. Seth had been right; after a full day of rain, she did feel cooped up. Also, although she’d never especially liked the constant noise and bustle of the city, she’d become accustomed to it, so it seemed strange not to see any people other than the Helmuth family for an entire week. Itching to get out and go shopping, she was eager for Seth to return. Admittedly, she was also curious about his trip to the matchmaker, but for his sake Trina hoped Martha wouldn’t ask him about it during supper.

* * *

Seth’s trip to see the matchmaker paid off quicker than he expected. Belinda suggested he consider courting Fannie Jantzi, a widow who lived just over the Elmsville town line. The matchmaker said Fannie was a pet project of hers and Seth didn’t know if that was a good sign or a bad one. But when Belinda told him Fannie could be available the next day, Seth agreed to pick her up at a nearby phone shanty after their separate church services ended. Feeling hopeful, he hurried home to eat supper with Martha, Trina and the boys.

After taking a bite of bread, Seth set it aside on his plate. He had made leather purses that were probably easier to chew. Trina must have baked it. He tried to be discreet, but Tanner noticed he wasn’t eating his slice.

“Daed, you have to tear into the bread with your teeth like this,” he advised, showing what he meant. “Pretend you’re a lion and it’s carrion.”

“That’s enough, Tanner,” Seth scolded, disconcerted. Trina appeared drained tonight as it was; he hoped she wasn’t offended by Tanner’s remark but he couldn’t tell because she dipped her chin toward her chest. Then he noticed her shoulders shaking a little. Was she crying over such a small thing? But when she glanced up and swallowed a drink of water, he could see she was fighting laughter. He had to give it to her; she was awfully good-natured.

“Look, Daed, you can see two of yourselves in Groossmammi’s eyes,” Timothy pointed out, waving to his reflection in Martha’s glasses.

“Put your hand down and eat your vegetation.” Seth had meant to say vegetables but he subconsciously adopted Trina’s word choice. He’d been thinking about how he’d have to pick up a pair of less conspicuous sunglasses for Martha tonight. He was embarrassed he hadn’t thought of buying her a pair earlier, but she’d never complained about the lighting before. Or was it that he’d never thought to ask? Once again, he was thankful for Trina’s attentiveness to his family.

After they ate, Martha and Trina quickly cleared the table and washed the dishes while Seth and the boys hitched the horse and brought the buggy up the lane.

“I’ll sit in the back with the buwe and Trina can sit up front with you,” Martha said.

Inwardly Seth groaned. It would be difficult to conduct a conversation between the front and back seats, and he didn’t know what to converse with Trina about on his own. He hoped the boys would call out their many questions, but instead, Martha engaged Timothy and Tanner in a spirited conversation about sheep shearing that Seth could barely hear from his seat in front.

“This is such fun!” Trina trilled, spreading the blanket Seth had given her over her lap.

Seth chuckled. “It’s a mode of transportation, not a carnival ride.” Uh-oh, did that sound rude? He actually thought her delight was charming, so he quickly added, “It’s probably a big change from driving a car around Philadelphia.”

“I wouldn’t know about that,” Trina said breezily. “I don’t own a car.”

“Then how do you get around? Bus? Train?”

“Sometimes, but mostly I walk. Or ride a bike.”

“In Philadelphia?”

“It’s a city, not the moon,” she said, imitating his tone when he remarked about the buggy not being a carnival ride. Then she teased, “Englischers have feet, too, you know.”

Seth chortled. “Jah, but do Englischers eat carrion for supper?”

Trina giggled. “I promise I didn’t teach them that. I don’t know where they learned it.”

“From me.” When Trina twisted sideways and looked at him in surprise, Seth added, “We see a lot of things when we’re out walking in the countryside. Not all of it is pleasant, but it’s a fact of life.”

“The same might be said for walking in the city,” Trina mumbled. There was a hint of sadness to her dulcet voice.

“Staying in Willow Creek must be a big adjustment for you.”

“In some ways, jah. But my mamm told me so much about it when I was growing up it almost seems like I’ve been here before.”

Now there was no mistaking her melancholy tone. “I’m sorry about your mamm,” he said. “You may know this already, but the first year is the most difficult. The grief never goes away completely, but after a year, it changes. And with more time, it will change again. At least, that’s how it was for me after I lost my Eleanor.”

Ordinarily Seth wouldn’t share such an intimate sentiment with an Englisch woman—or an Amish woman, for that matter. But Trina’s voice carried such a note of fragility, he found himself wanting to comfort her.

“I do take comfort in knowing my mamm is with the Lord, but sometimes I’m unbearably lonely without her.”

That was exactly how Seth felt. “Jah, if there was any consolation for me about Timothy and Tanner, it was that they never knew their mamm, so they didn’t miss her the way I did. Even so, it’s been hard on them not to have a mamm in their life.”

“Oh, I see,” Trina spoke quietly, presumably so the boys and Martha wouldn’t hear her. “So that’s why you visited the matchmaker today—you’re ready to court again?”

Seth didn’t feel comfortable continuing this conversation, but when he didn’t respond, Trina assured him, “There’s no need to be embarrassed. I’ve had friends who’ve tried online dating services and—”

“Ha!” Seth sputtered. “A matchmaker is nothing like an online dating service.”

“How do you know?” Trina challenged. “Have you ever tried an online dating service?”

“Have you ever tried an Amish matchmaker?”

“Neh, but my mamm told me enough about them for me to know they’re not so different from online dating services, especially from dating services that screen people to find out what their values, interests and hopes are. How is that so different from going to a matchmaker?”

“The very fact you call it dating shows the difference,” Seth argued. “Courtships among the Amish are primarily intended to see if a couple is compatible for marriage. Englischers date for social entertainment.”

“That’s true for some Englischers, but not everyone dates casually. Some are very selective and when they enter a romantic relationship, it’s with the hope of eventually marrying.”

Seth didn’t know how the conversation had jumped from talking about buggy rides to courtships and marriage—topics he would have been reluctant to discuss with his closest Amish friends, much less with an Englischer he barely knew. But since she’d been so bold as to ask him about going to the matchmaker, he figured he could venture an inquiry, too. “Don’t tell me, you’re the kind of person who only dates with the intention of marrying?”

“Neh,” Trina answered, the verve suddenly gone from her voice. “But I don’t date for fun, either. I mean, there was someone I thought I’d marry, but...”

“But the dating service made a bad match?” Seth couldn’t resist needling her a final time.

“I didn’t meet him through a dating service.” Trina seemed a million miles away when she said, “But you’re right, he wasn’t a gut match. He broke up with me when my mamm became ill. He said he couldn’t compete with her for my time and affection.”

Seth regretted bringing up such a painful subject. What kind of man wouldn’t support the woman he loved when her mother had cancer? “What a self-centered dummkopf,” he said aloud, answering his own question.

“It’s better I found out sooner rather than later.” Trina sounded genuinely sincere when she added, “But I hope things turn out well for you.”

Trina was quiet the rest of the way to Highland Springs and Seth felt terrible for spoiling what had started out as such a fun excursion for her. Once they arrived at the store, he and Martha took Timothy and Tanner with them, despite the boys’ expressed preference for accompanying Trina. Seth figured she needed time to collect her items in peace, and besides, he didn’t want to mar her evening further by making any more cloddish remarks.

* * *

Trina was relieved when Sunday came; it meant she’d made it through one week in Willow Creek. Only a little more than eight weeks to go until May first. She rose early to attend the nearest Englisch church, which, according to the map on her phone, was two and a half miles away. Since she didn’t have a car and couldn’t afford to hire a taxi to come from Lancaster, she had to walk. On the way, she hummed as she thought about Seth, Martha and the boys traveling to the worship services hosted this week by an Amish family, the Planks.

The sky was overcast with white clouds and Trina hoped the light wasn’t bothering Martha’s eyes. Seth had bought his grandmother a new pair of sunglasses the evening before, but they didn’t fit over Martha’s regular glasses as well as the pair she’d borrowed from Trina. When Trina told Martha she should consider going to an eye doctor and getting prescription sunglasses, Seth said he doubted that was necessary and Martha seemed to agree. Trina was puzzled by this; they didn’t seem excessively frugal, but she supposed they might have considered the expense to be a waste.

Because it was chillier than Trina expected and she hadn’t worn a hat, halfway to church she stopped and let her hair down from its ponytail so it would provide a natural covering for her ears. Fortunately there was no wind as she trod up and down the hilly roads of Willow Creek, but by the time she arrived at the little church and ducked into the women’s room, her nose and cheeks were bright pink, and she felt famished from hiking in the cold. She ran her hands under warm water and then joined the small but friendly congregation. The pastor’s sermon on God’s faithfulness was comforting to her and she especially loved worshipping through song. She hadn’t realized until today how long it had been since she was able to sing in church; ever since her mother died, she was afraid to lift up her voice, in fear she’d begin crying in public. But today she sang as loudly and cheerfully as anyone.

After the service, the elderly couple sitting next to Trina turned to introduce themselves to her as Sherman and Mabel Brown. They were delighted to learn she was new in town and they quickly invited her to the potluck dinner being held in the basement of the building. Trina’s stomach rumbled as she accepted their offer.

She was eating her second plate of spaghetti and meatballs when a young man approached the table where Sherman and Mabel had introduced her to another couple with two children. The man took a seat next to Trina. Dark-haired and soft-spoken, Ethan Gray told her he was the local pediatrician. Like Trina, he’d only arrived in Willow Creek recently. After dessert—Trina had both a cupcake and a brownie—Ethan offered to give her a ride home, but Trina declined. Warm and invigorated again, she wanted to see Wheeler’s Bridge, which was located not too far from Main Street. Trina’s mother had told her that when she went grocery shopping in town as a girl, instead of walking on the roads she always followed the creek behind their house all the way to the bridge. She said the route took her through the thick woods and beautiful Amish farmland, so Trina was eager to journey where her mother had once found beauty.

Following the directions on her phone’s GPS, Trina had been walking for almost half an hour when it began drizzling. Within minutes, she felt the prickle of sleet against her scalp and she dashed to take cover beneath a willow tree in the middle of a field. Since the tree had no foliage yet, it provided little shelter and Trina’s hair became ropy and wet as she consulted her phone to figure out a shortcut home. She concluded if she cut across the field she was standing in and took a short jaunt through a wooded area, she’d wind up on a street that ran parallel to Main Street. Since it was the Sabbath, the Amish shops were closed, but she hoped there would be a convenience store or a coffee shop she could stop in at to dry off and get a hot chocolate.

But she must have gotten confused in the woods because when she finally emerged some forty minutes later, she recognized the fence as being the same one that bordered the east end of the field where she first began. Or was it? There were so many fences and farms in Willow Creek it was difficult to distinguish one from another. And since the trees and hills hadn’t yet begun to show signs of spring, it wasn’t even as if the walk had been especially scenic. Worst of all, by now it was raining so hard it was soaking right through her jacket. Trina had no choice but to use her phone to navigate along the roads instead of taking a shortcut.

By that time, she’d been walking for over an hour, her toes were numb and she wished she’d accepted a ride from Ethan. She was half tempted to flag down a passing car, except that no cars passed her. She had just trudged up a long, steep hill when her phone rang. It had been so long since she’d received a phone call, she jerked when it vibrated in her pocket.

“Hello?” she answered, pushing a string of wet hair from her eyes. Droplets rolled off her eyebrows and she squinted against the rain.