Grabbing the gearshift, Rebecca heaved a sigh. “I knew he would forget. Mamm and I are taking the train from Harrisburg to Ohio for cousin Sarah’s wedding. Cousin Sarah is getting married in July and not November. Can you imagine? Mamm says that’s how they do things out there in Ohio.” She flicked the windshield wipers and the turn signal.

As the wipers squeaked and the signal lights blinked, Rebecca’s eyes flashed. Given the opportunity, the imp would doubtlessly wrench the van into gear and peel out.

“Mamm took care of cousin Sarah for weeks and weeks when cousin Sarah was just a baby.” Rebecca spun in her seat and peered into the back of the van. “I wish I had a cousin Sarah to take care of.”

“My cousins live far away, too.” Tessa stepped into the cab and rested a protective hand over the parking brake handle on the dash. “What a fun adventure.”

Rebecca peeked from beneath white-blonde lashes. “Would you like to know a secret?”

A cloud, just as foreboding as those overhead, shadowed the child’s face. Tessa hesitated. “All right.”

Rebecca cupped her hands around Tessa’s ear. “One day, I will drive away from this farm and never come back.”

The girl’s breath was hot and redolent of molasses. Tessa drew back and studied her face. Solemn determination mingled with the glint of mischief her uncle occasionally displayed.

Rebecca placed one finger over her lips. “Shh…”

“Out of the pop-top, Miss Rebecca Beiler!”

Tessa whirled and jounced down, tripping over a tree root.

Jonas extracted his wiggly niece, swinging her in circles until she squealed and giggled. He hugged her tight and plopped her on the ground. “Go help your mother.”

The child heaved a sigh from the bottoms of her feet but obeyed. With Jonas in the passenger’s seat, Tessa drove away, surveying the porch through the rearview mirror. Rebecca took up her mother’s task, her pixie face as placid as a millpond.

Nora limped into the house.

She seemed to move slower than usual as well. As Tessa rounded the bend, the atmosphere inside the van was strangely quiet. For the first time, Jonas didn’t click on the radio.

He turned his hat in his hands, running his thumb along the wide brim. “Rebecca…” Dropping his hat, he shook his head and cracked the window.

The metal bridge hummed beneath her tires.

She smiled. “She is a wonder.”

“Nora worries about her.” He ran the heels of his hands down his thighs. “Sometimes I do, too.”

Why were they worried? She never met a healthier, happier child. Perhaps she was a tad strong willed, but based on Jonas’s stories, spunkiness ran in the family. “She’s just an energetic little girl.”

“What did she say? In your ear?”