Having escaped her cleaning spree, the top storage shelf in the garage was caked with dust and dead bugs. Balancing on a milk crate, she groped until her fingers lit on the curved metal tube that sprayed a moving curtain of water. Or at least it did ten years ago. What were the odds the ancient contraption still worked?

Sprinkler in hand, she dragged a dirty, green hose from under a hedge, attached one end to the spigot, and struggled to right the many kinks and knots riddling the unwieldy thing. When at last she had it untangled, the hose spread like a snake way across the lawn and around the corner of the house. Finally, she coupled the hose to the sprinkler, trudged back to the spigot, and wrenched it open.

An unmistakable string of Pennsylvania Dutch curse words echoed from one green ridge to the next.

With a gasp, she dashed around the house.

Mere inches from the sprinkler, Jonas stood completely drenched. “Next time, warn me before you do that!”

She stopped cold, just beyond reach of the spray. Yup. The sprinkler worked fine. “I’m so sorry.”

His eyes blazed. “What is the matter with you, woman?”

Just then, the water rose, spraying up his legs, across his chest, and directly over his face. Rivers streamed from his hat brim.

With a grimace, he spat and whipped off his hat.

A renegade laugh, silly and stupid, bubbled from deep in her belly. She slapped a hand over her mouth, but she couldn’t squelch it. She giggled. Then she snorted.

Sodden and seething, he gaped as sheets of water doused him.

She gritted her teeth and mustered sobriety. “I’m sorry.” Then she exploded in laughter.

His eyes widened.

As if about to respond, he opened his mouth and took a shot right to the kisser. She held her breath, bracing for her second Amish scolding of the day. Instead, his scowl cracked open, and he, too, began to laugh—deep and resonant—a laugh she knew she could listen to the rest of her life.

“Might as well come in. The water’s fine.” He flung his hat, threw back his head, and opened his mouth to the cascade.

The spray ignited in arching rainbows. She unleashed a whoop and scampered through the water, dancing and twirling. When was the last time she ran through a sprinkler on a hot summer day?

With a leap, he dashed to the opposite side and shook his head. “Why can’t I spend a single afternoon with you without getting soaked?”