The Amish Quiltmaker’s Unattached Neighbor (The Amish Quiltmaker #6)

Chapter 19

A da’s hands were actually trembling, which was a ridiculous reaction to standing on Enos’s doorstep at one in the afternoon. It had been two months since Ada had encountered that rattlesnake and Enos had declared his undying, aggravating friendship. Since then, Ada had avoided him like a bad case of the flu. She took comfort in the thought that it was highly unlikely she’d see Enos today. Maybe she’d get lucky and he’d be out in the fields or off to Monte Vista for supplies. Surely he knew she was coming. Lord willing, if he was home, he’d lock himself in his room until Ada left.

“Well, go ahead and knock,” Cathy urged, which was easy for her to say because she wasn’t in love with Enos, and she didn’t have to work hard every day to keep him from creeping into her thoughts.

Esther gave Ada a kind, pitiful smile, stepped around her, and knocked on the door herself. She had a stalk of celery tucked behind her ear, no doubt a tidbit left over from lunch. None of her kids liked celery, and it often ended up behind Esther’s ear for safekeeping.

To Ada’s relief, Tabitha—not Enos—answered the door. “You’re five minutes early,” Tabitha grumbled. “That’s almost worse than being late. What if I’m not ready for you?”

Cathy pushed her way into Tabitha’s house as if she lived there, like she did with everyone in her circle of friends. “Close friends don’t get worked up when visitors are early. It just gives us more time to quilt and visit.”

Tabitha’s frown twitched, as if maybe she liked the idea of being someone’s close friend. “It’s good I was ready for you then.” She motioned for Ada and Esther to come in, because they usually waited to be invited inside someone’s house. A spectacular blue-and-white Lone Star quilt top stretched across some quilt frames in Tabitha’s front room. Tabitha’s couch and easy chair had been pushed up against the wall, making room for the quilt, which took up most of the space. One folding chair stood on each side of the quilt, waiting for the quilters to sit and get started.

Esther ran her hands along the fabric. “Tabitha, this is beautiful. I love the colors.”

Tabitha’s frown softened around the edges. “ Ach , it’s nothing special. Enos took me to the fabric store in Alamosa, and I chose some scraps that I thought would look good together.”

“You have a good eye.”

“I’ve been told I have the best eye in Lancaster County, but I’m not one to brag.” Tabitha pointed to Ada. “Well, we came to quilt. Sit down and pick up a needle. I want a stitch in the ditch, and make them small. Unpicking puts me in a bad mood.” She pulled a small box from the bookshelf behind her. “Enos bought three extra thimbles just in case.”

Ada flinched at the sound of Enos’s name. Couldn’t Tabitha leave him out of the conversation? Being in his house was torture enough.

Cathy sat down on one of the folding chairs and fished through her purse. “I always bring my own thimble, Tabby. It’s specially fitted to my finger.”

Tabitha made a face. “Did you just call me Tabby?”

Cathy found her thimble and slipped it on her middle finger. “That’s your quilting nickname. Everybody needs a quilting nickname.”

Esther gave Cathy a wry look. “I don’t have a quilting nickname.”

“Neither do I,” Ada said.

Tabitha scowled at Cathy. “What’s your quilting nickname?”

Cathy seemed unconcerned that Tabitha was irritated. “Cathy. My real name is Catherine.”

“That’s just your nickname,” Esther protested. “It’s not specifically for quilting.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Cathy said. “That’s what people call me before, during, and after quilting. Tabitha sounds so stuffy. Tabby says, ‘I’m carefree and hip, and I own three cats.’”

“I don’t like cats,” Tabitha said, not acting like she minded a quilting nickname all that much.

“Well, you should.”

Ada sat down, but she couldn’t be comfortable. Enos might appear at any minute and give her that indifferent, unemotional look that always twisted her heart into a tight knot.

No matter what Enos wanted, Ada didn’t want to be just friends, and she didn’t want to help Enos feel better about himself. He wasn’t making it easy. Without fail, he tried to engage her in unemotional and trivial conversations after gmay , but when she saw him coming, she’d walk as fast as she could in the other direction. Sometimes, if he got too close, she’d run into the kitchen or lock herself in a bathroom and wait for him to give up. Maybe the running was beneath her, but she didn’t trust her heart not to betray her. She was in love with Enos, and she couldn’t expose herself to a moment of weakness.

Enos was smart enough to know she wanted to avoid him, but he was also persistent, and unfortunately, someday, he was going to catch her. Lord willing, by the time that happened, she would be recovered enough to have a civil conversation with him without melting into a puddle of regret.

Ada threaded her needle and stuck it into the fabric. She glanced across the quilt at Tabitha, who was arguing with Cathy about cotton versus polyester batting. The change in Tabitha since she’d come home from Pennsylvania was stark. She had quit using a cane, and she moved like a woman her age instead of someone twenty years older.

She was still grumpy and pessimistic and critical of just about everything and everyone, but her criticisms had lost their bite, and she was more inclined to talk about quilts and fabric than she was about the lack of scenery in Byler or her ungrateful children. She was like a cat without claws. She still hissed and carried on, but she no longer hurt people with her words.

Tabitha and Cathy had struck up a strange friendship, and Cathy always pulled Tabitha back from the edge if she got cross or petulant and said something unkind.

The biggest change was that Tabitha never said a bad word about Enos, at least to the other women in the gmayna . Ada didn’t know what went on at home because she wasn’t living in the tent anymore, but she hoped Tabitha was coming to appreciate what Enos had done for her and had softened her heart in his direction.

Ada wanted gute things for Enos’s sake.

She sighed to herself. She’d have to quit thinking about Enos, or her hands would keep shaking and her stitches would be uneven. Unpicking put Tabitha in a bad mood. “Where is Enos today?” she said, proud that she’d said his name without a hint of emotion in her voice.

Tabitha was threading a needle with two pairs of glasses perched on her nose. “He’s getting ready for the men to come tomorrow for the second alfalfa harvest, doing whatever they do to get ready. He’s sharpening his tools or moping around in the shed. All he does is mope nowadays. I suspect he also wants to avoid our little quilting bee. Men think it’s all foolishness. He won’t be so smug when Esther sells this quilt at the shop and he sees our profit.”

Ada let out the breath she’d been holding. She was safe from Enos, at least for the time being.

They all turned their faces toward the front window when they heard a car pulling into the yard, gravel popping under its tires. Tabitha set down her unthreaded needle with a huff. “You’d think people would know better than to interrupt us when we’re trying to quilt.”

The expected knock came at the door, and Tabitha answered it, grumbling and groaning about the inconvenience of having to get off her chair. Wilford Brenchly, who sometimes drove the Byler Amish, stood at the front door with a hesitant expression on his lips. “Hello, Tabitha. It’s good to see you again.”

Tabitha shook her head. “I can’t imagine that’s true. You drove me to the hospital, and I told you your car was a piece of garbage.”

Wilford cleared his throat and laughed at the same time. “You surely did, but my wife tells me the same thing.” He looked beyond Tabitha. “Hi, Cathy. Did you ever get that knee fixed?”

Cathy waved to Wilford. “Not yet. I’m trying acupuncture first. I don’t want surgery. People go in with one problem and come out with ten more.”

Wilford smiled. “Ain’t that the truth.” He glanced behind him. “Miss Tabitha, is Enos here? There’s someone out in the car who wants to talk to him.”

That was strange. Who would find it too much trouble to come to the front door himself?

“Who is it?” Tabitha wanted to know.

“Um, he doesn’t want me to say. He just wants to talk to Enos.”

Wilford sure knew how to pique everyone’s curiosity. Cathy cocked an eyebrow. Esther pulled the celery stick from behind her ear and took a bite. Ada craned her neck to see past Wilford and into his car. The back window was tinted, and she couldn’t make out a thing.

Tabitha was obviously just as interested as any of them, but surprisingly, she didn’t press Wilford for answers. “He’s in the barn, but you can’t drive the car around. There’s broken glass and old nails everywhere. You’ll get a flat tire.”

Ada knew for a fact that Enos kept better care of his property than that. There wasn’t an errant nail or piece of trash on the whole farm. It seemed Tabitha had a plan.

Wilford formed his lips into an O. “Okay. I sure don’t want a flat tire.”

Tabitha nodded her agreement, closed the door, and practically flew to the picture window, motioning for the others to join her. She peeked out through a slit in the curtains. “Come, come. He’s going to get out of the car.”

Cathy moved very fast for an eighty-something-year-old, joining Tabitha at the window before she’d even quit talking. Esther and Ada jumped up and went to the other side of the window to peek. Wilford got back in the car and said something to the person in the back seat. The back passenger door opened slowly, and a man dressed in Amish clothes got out. His head was bent, and he held his hat so it covered his face from view. He was trying to hide his identity.

Tabitha gasped.

“Do you know who it is, Tabby?” Cathy asked.

“It’s Zeb,” Tabitha whispered, shocked and angry and hurt all at the same time.

Cathy glanced at Tabitha. “Zeb? Your son?”

Pain saturated Tabitha’s features. “He came all the way from Pennsylvania and doesn’t want to see me?”

With his hat still pulled over his face, Zeb trudged around the side of the house in the direction of the barn. Tabitha snatched her bonnet from the hook and stormed into the kitchen. “Come on. I’m going to see what that ungrateful little buzzard has to say to Enos. We’re going to spy on him. Out the back door, everybody.”

Cathy didn’t hesitate for a moment. “I’m with you, sister. Slow down or you’ll trip. And be quiet. We don’t want them to hear us.”

Ada and Esther looked at each other and shrugged. “I guess we should follow them,” Esther said.

Ada was the last out of the house. How did she get roped into such things? First it was sneaking into the hospital, now it was spying on Enos’s bruder .

The four of them tiptoed to the barn, staying low and hopefully out of sight. They stopped below the wide-open window, Cathy and Tabitha on one side, Ada and Esther on the other. Ada leaned as close as she could without risking being seen and held her breath in hopes of hearing the muffled conversation going on between the two bruderen . Was it a sin to eavesdrop? Ach , vell , it was too late for second thoughts. She would just have to repent later.

“. . . and I won’t allow it. I have Lilith’s health to think of,” Zeb was saying.

Ada’s heart leapt at the sound of Enos’s buttery smooth bass voice. “You came all the way out here to tell me this? Mamm is fine. We have no plans to move back to Bird-in-Hand. Your family is safe.” Safe had a little bite to it. She couldn’t blame Enos for his resentment.

There was some ruffling of paper. “Mamm sent me this letter a few weeks ago. She said she’s going to starve herself until we let her come home.”

“And you waited two months to rush down here? I can see you’re concerned.”

Zeb didn’t seem to notice the chastisement in Enos’s voice. “That’s not why I was concerned. Mamm is nothing but bitterness and bluster. I knew she wouldn’t go through with it.”

Ada glanced at Tabitha. Her mouth was pressed into a hard line, her eyes flashing with anger. Maybe it was better to be angry than devastated.

“I’m more concerned about this part of her letter. ‘ Enos is deep in debt,’ ” Zeb read aloud. “ ‘ He’s going to lose the farm, and then it won’t matter if you don’t want me. I’ll have to come back, and so will Enos. As a gute son, you’ll have to let both of us live with you. You are the eldest. It is your responsibility. ’” Zeb growled. “Mamm keeps throwing my responsibility in my face, as if I asked to be born first or wanted to be saddled with my miserable bruder . I have my own family to think about, and you and Mamm are not part of us. Mamm has made herself unbearably unpleasant, and Lilith can’t stand to have her in the house. I want you to stay away.”

Ada was stunned at such malice. Then again, Zeb was Tabitha’s son. It seemed he was quite a bit like her.

“Believe me, bruder ,” Enos said. “Much as I respect you, I would rather stay away. I never feel less like a man than when I’m with you and John. You have a talent for making me feel small.”

“You are small, little boy. You have no fraa , no children, no money. You’re a cripple, and you live a small life with small goals. I have a prosperous farm and seven fine children. I refuse to take care of you and steal food out of my children’s mouths.”

“Is this why you came all the way to Colorado, to tell me what you think of me? You shouldn’t have bothered. I already know.” Enos sounded utterly defeated. It was all Ada could do to keep from jumping out of hiding and storming into the barn to give Zeb a stern lecture and a gute kick in the shins.

Tabitha’s face turned ashen. Was she thinking the same thing? Or maybe she saw herself reflected in her oldest son’s harshness. Was she coming to a reckoning of her own?

“I came to make sure you and Mamm never return to Pennsylvania,” Zeb said. More soft movement. “Here is a check for ten thousand dollars. Pay down your debts and make things work here in Colorado.”

Ada covered her mouth to stifle a gasp. Ten thousand dollars! It wouldn’t solve all Enos’s problems, but it would take some of the pressure off.

“You have ten thousand to spare?” Enos said, skepticism dripping from his tone.

“Dat asked me to use it to take care of the family.”

“His family or yours?” It was obvious to both Enos and Ada that Enos’s dat had meant the money for Tabitha.

There was a long pause. Zeb was clearly weighing his words. “I have seven children. I need it more than you do.”

“You got the farm and the house, Zeb.”

“I also have a happy fraa and a peaceful life, and I want to keep it that way. I’m giving you this check as payment for taking Mamm off our hands.”

The silence between them stretched for several seconds. A single tear carved a path down Tabitha’s cheek. Cathy puckered up her face, pulled a cherry-red sucker from her purse, and handed it to Tabitha.

“Ada was right,” Enos mumbled.

Ada almost fell over. She wasn’t sure if it was surprise of hearing her name or Enos’s admission that she was right about anything.

“Who is Ada?” Zeb asked.

“She said I deserve better.” The sound of footsteps. Was Enos pacing? “And I do. I do deserve better.” He stopped moving. “I won’t take that money, Zeb. You just want to soothe your conscience, and I refuse to be paid for Mamm’s care, as if I’m an employee instead of her son. It is my privilege to take care of her. She gave us birth and reared us as best she could. She lived through tremendous heartache and lost Dat too early. I will not abandon her.”

“All right then, dig your own grave. If you lose this farm, you and Mamm are on your own. We won’t take you back. I have my fraa and kinner to think of.”

Enos held firm. “You are choking on your own hypocrisy, Zeb. ‘But if any provide not for his own, and especially for those of his own house, he has denied the faith and is worse than an infidel.’”

Ada caught her breath as something thick and solid banged against the wall. She peeked a little farther into the barn. Zeb was clutching Enos’s shirt and pressing him to the wall. “How dare you say that to me? You are nobody, Enos, and you never will be.”

Enos placed his palms on Zeb’s chest and shoved him back, hard. Zeb nearly fell over. “Don’t touch me again, Zeb. You may be older, but I’m bigger and stronger, and I will defend myself, even though violence is against the Ordnung. Ada says I deserve better, and starting now, I will stand up for myself.”

Ada should have pulled back. She was risking being seen, but she couldn’t look away. Enos’s face glowed with purpose and resolve. She’d never seen such a formidable sight in her life. “I won’t let you or John bully me ever again. Gotte loves me just as much as He loves you, even though I don’t have a fraa or children or a penny to my name. I deserve better, and I’m going to start living for Gotte and praying for gute things to come into my life. ‘For I know the plansI have for you. Plans to prosperyou and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’ Gotte wants to prosper me, and I’d appreciate it if you got out of the way.”

Ada pulled back from the window and smiled to herself in spite of the terrible scene playing out inside the barn. She’d shared that scripture with Enos one morning around the campfire. How nice that he’d taken it to heart.

Zeb was breathing heavily, whether from anger or exertion, Ada couldn’t tell. “I’d appreciate it if you stayed out of the way.”

“Gladly, bruder .” She heard Enos walk toward the barn door. “I suppose you don’t want to say hello to Mamm before you leave.”

“She’ll only get hysterical. I’d rather not deal with it today.”

Both of them walked out of the barn and into the front yard.

Tabitha pressed her fingers to her lips and blinked rapidly to quell her rebellious tears.

Cathy growled. “I couldn’t understand a thing, but it sounded bad.”

Of course. Cathy didn’t speak Deitsch . “Zeb doesn’t want to see Tabitha ever again,” Ada glanced at Tabitha, sorry to cause her more pain by recounting the conversation. “He tried to pay Enos ten thousand dollars, but Enos wouldn’t take the money. He said it’s a privilege to care for Tabitha and that Zeb is worse than an infidel. Zeb said Enos is a nobody. Enos said he deserves better.”

Cathy frowned at Tabitha. “So do you. You deserve much better than Zeb.”

Tabitha shook her head. “You told me. You said my chickens had come home to roost. I don’t deserve Enos’s kindness. He is a loyal son, and I’ve given him nothing but grief.”

Cathy, Esther, and Ada surrounded her, and they came together in a four-way hug—no judgment, no I told you so, no gloating or rejoicing that Tabitha had gotten what she deserved. Tabitha was finally seeing the consequences of her bad temper and unkind behavior. But Ada couldn’t rejoice at what she’d heard today. No mater should be treated with such contempt. It didn’t matter that Tabitha was partly to blame for her sons’ dislike. They were commanded to honor their parents and to forgive seventy times seven. All along, Enos had been right, though Ada had argued with him about it. He was a better person than she could ever be.

Ada hooked her arm around Tabitha’s elbow, and the four of them tiptoed back into the house. They crept to the front window and with arms around each other, watched Zeb climb into Wilford’s car.

Tabitha shrugged Ada’s arm off her shoulder. “Well, that’s that. One less pest we have to spray for.”

Ada studied Tabitha’s face. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Tabitha’s eyes flashed with headstrong determination, and she lifted her chin. “Let’s hope there are no more interruptions. This quilt isn’t going to finish itself.” She put on both pair of glasses and picked up her needle. “Remember, a stitch in the ditch. And make them small. Unpicking puts me in a bad mood.”

Ada waved goodbye to Cathy and Esther and headed across Enos’s yard toward home. They’d been at Tabitha’s house for nearly two hours, Enos hadn’t bothered them once, and they’d finished almost a fourth of the quilt. It had been a very gute day. They’d all been shaken up by the conversation between Enos and Zeb, but none of them had said one more word about it. The subject was too painful and too fraught with emotion.

Ada held her breath as a deep longing washed over her. Tabitha had seen Zeb’s true colors today, and even though she was gute at hiding her feelings, the revelation had brought Tabitha profound pain. Ada was proud of how Enos had stood up for himself, even if it meant financial ruin and an uncertain future. But Enos was not alone, even if he thought he was. The gmayna had rallied around him before. They would do it again. They could help with his mortgage and his alfalfa. They could support him until he was firmly on his feet and financially whole. That was one of the best things about being a member of the Amish community. There were no more strangers or foreigners, only fellow citizens with the household of Gotte.

Ada clutched her bag tighter as she gingerly climbed over the fence that separated Enos’s farm from the potato field, the shortcut she had taken many times over the last few months.

“Ada! Wait.”

Ada’s heart lurched, her foot missed the last fence post, and she found herself in the dirt on her backside. Ach ! Enos had horrible timing.

Bracing both hands on the top post, he leaped over the fence like it was nothing, then knelt in the dirt at Ada’s side. “Are you okay? I’m wonderful sorry. Did I startle you?”

He reached out his hand to help her to her feet, but she could get up on her own, thank you very much . She stood and brushed the dirt off her dress, doing a thorough job of it just to show Enos how put out she was. “Do you often creep around your property waiting for unsuspecting women to walk by?”

His lips twitched as if he found her amusing. “Why do you like to climb my wobbly fence? It’s an inconvenient and dangerous shortcut.”

“Not that dangerous. I was three feet off the ground.” She swiped her hand down her dress once more for gute measure. “ Denki for your concern. I’ve got to get home to fix dinner.”

“Wait, Ada. Don’t go. I need to talk to you. Something happened earlier today, and I need to tell you . . .”

Ada resisted the urge to growl. “Enos, I can’t be the kind of friend you want me to be.”

He tilted his head to the side. “What kind of friend is that?”

She blew a puff of air from between her lips. “Any kind of friend.” It hurt to say the words, but maybe he would leave her alone if he knew how she felt. “You need a friend, Enos, but it’s not going to be me.”

Frustration pulled at his mouth. “But you said you’d like it very much if we could be friends.”

Ada squared her shoulders and blurted out her confession. “I was lying, and I’ve come to regret it. I should have told you from the very beginning. I don’t want to be your friend. I don’t want you to try to talk to me after church. I don’t want to have conversations over the fence. I’m not going to invite you over for dinner or marshmallows or banana boats.” Her voice cracked. “I just want to be left alone. Menno and Clay and Levi are still happy to help with the alfalfa and the harvest, but I am going to go back to being your next-door neighbor who waves at you from long distances and makes sure my dog doesn’t bother your chickens.”

“I don’t have chickens.”

“All the better.”

He reached out to her, but she wasn’t having any of that nonsense. She stepped back, and he dropped his hand to his side. “Ada, I don’t want to be friends either.”

Why did his words cut a slice through her heart? “Okay, well, gute . We feel the same way then.”

“ Nae , Ada, we don’t.” The intensity in his eyes made her heart skip a beat. “I’m trying to tell you. Something happened earlier today. Zeb came to see me while you and Mamm were quilting.”

Ada didn’t act surprised. She’d deceived Enos enough for a lifetime. “What does that have to do with being friends?”

“I realized that you were right. Zeb and John think I’m worthless, and I have lived out their opinion of me for far too long.” He closed his eyes. “I stood tall today. I did the right thing, the hard thing, and I realized that I’m not worthless, no matter what Zeb or John or my mamm say. You tried to tell me, and I didn’t believe you.”

“Why would you believe me? I’m just your next-door neighbor who keeps her dog away from your chickens. Certainly nobody to fuss over or pay heed to.”

He studied her face. “I’m detecting sarcasm.”

She turned away from him. “No one can convince you of your worth if you don’t believe it.”

He tapped his hand on the fence post. “Ada, will you stop being so stubborn?”

She sniffed into the air. “Don’t you dare accuse me. I have no blame in this.”

He held up his hands. “Okay. You’re right. It’s just that I’m trying to tell you something, and you’re acting like I’m the enemy.”

Was Enos the enemy? It felt very much like he was trying to get her to surrender to something. Jah , today he was the enemy. She folded her arms. “What is it you want to tell me?”

“Can we try again?”

The look he gave her stole her breath, but she pretended not to understand him. “Try what?”

“Being more than friends.”

He was sidling into dangerous, risky, heartbreaking territory. She wanted to be Enos’s fraa more than anything, but what did Enos want, really? “I can’t even begin to answer that. I’ve worked very hard to let you go.”

His disappointment was thick in the space between them, but to his credit, he didn’t seem inclined to give up. “You said you love me, that I’m the only person who can make you happy. What has changed?”

“If you don’t love yourself, how can you even begin to love another person? You certainly can’t love me.”

“I can, and I do.”

Her heart swelled. Had he just said he loved her? Or was he simply tap dancing around his feelings again? Could she risk more heartache? “On the night you chased away that rattlesnake, what were you feeling? I’m sure you were concerned for me, and you cared that I didn’t die on your property. But concern isn’t love. Love has power and strength, and you are not willing to fight for me.”

“Not willing to fight? I faced down that rattler with a shovel.”

“A rattlesnake is nothing compared to your own self-doubt and your mater .”

A black cloud darkened his features. “I can’t abandon my mater . Please don’t make me choose.”

Ada’s heart felt wrung out, like an old dishrag. “This is what I’m talking about, Enos. I would never ask you to abandon your mater . Lilith and Zeb think there are only two choices, let your mamm live with them and separate or shut your mamm out of their lives and be happy. Why are you unwilling to look for a third way, a better way, to fight for me and still honor your mater ? Maybe it’s too hard. Maybe you don’t think enough of yourself to try. Maybe you don’t care enough about me to try. Can you blame me for giving up on you? You’ve already given up on me.”

“I haven’t. I promise, I haven’t.”

She stiffened her spine. “Then show it. Fight for me.”

“Fighting is against the Ordnung.”

She sighed so loudly, two birds in Enos’s yard took flight. “It’s not that kind of fighting.” She swallowed hard. “Do you love me, Enos?” She hated making herself so vulnerable, but everything hinged on his answer to that very risky question.

Pain flashed across his face. “Look at me, Ada. How can you even ask that?”

“Because you’ve never said it, and you’re still avoiding it.”

He fell silent and stared down at the dirt. “I . . . I have never said those words to anyone in my whole life.”

She tilted her head to one side. “You’ve never said I love you?”

“ Nae . You don’t know how hard it is for me to say. Impossible, really.” His eyes flashed with raw and sincere desperation. “Actions are more important than words.”

“ Jah , they are.” Ada didn’t have the heart to argue with him or press him to say something he couldn’t say. Perhaps that was a conversation for another day. Perhaps it was a conversation they would never have. Enos’s family had wounded him deeply, but she didn’t want to marry a broken little boy. She wanted the grown-up Enos, who was willing to stand up to his bruder and fight for the woman he, maybe, sort of, loved.

“So tell me what you want me to do.”

What she wanted him to do was jump back over that fence and leave her alone. But not really. She wanted him to fight for her, but he bristled at even the hint of violence. “Even if you can’t tell me, I want to be sure of your love. I feel like just one of many items on your list of concerns, but so is your horse and your alfalfa.”

She’d made him very unhappy, but she didn’t regret a word. “How can I prove I’m gute enough for you?”

“I already know you’re gute enough. You don’t have to prove it to me.”

“What then?” he said.

He didn’t know what he was asking for, but Ada was agitated enough to give it to him. “I want someone who won’t roll over or back down or give up because things are hard. I want someone who will do everything in his power to make it work between his mamm and his fraa and who won’t avoid the hard decisions to make it easier on himself. I want someone who won’t walk over other people but will walk through fire to win my love.”

He stared at her, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. “I don’t know what to say.”

His expression made Ada feel like a selfish, self-centered idiot, but it also gave her more clarity than she’d ever had before. Maybe that kind of love—stubborn, wholehearted, and uncompromising—was an impossible fantasy, but it was the only kind Ada wanted. She was willing to walk through fire for Enos, and she wouldn’t settle for anything less from him. Even if he couldn’t say the words.

“It sounds like too much of a bother, doesn’t it?” she said. “A nicer, sweeter woman would never ask such a thing of you. That’s why we should go back to being indifferent neighbors. I’ll wave to you over the fence, bring eggs from our chickens, and nod to you if we pass each other at gmay .”

His frown was like a deep cut on his handsome face. “I don’t want that.”

Suddenly feeling very weary, she turned around, dodged a potato plant in her path, and took a step toward home. “Words mean nothing to me, Enos, and apparently they mean nothing to you. I hope you have a lovely life.”

She had the courage to walk away. It was the hardest thing she’d ever done.