Surrounded by glowing sparks that brightened and dimmed as if fanned by miniature bellows, Tessa spun in tandem. She lifted her gaze to the evening star, believing for a moment she could see all three hundred sixty degrees at once. Perhaps, this girl really was magic.

“There you are.”

She shivered, and her focus sharpened. She hadn’t even heard him approach.

“I’ve been hunting for you, Rebecca,” Jonas said. “I thought you’d stolen away our guest.”

Rebecca gestured to the trees with open arms. “We’re saying goodnight to the lightning bugs.”

Tessa glanced over one shoulder. “Hi.” The single syllable vibrated low in her chest, more a caress than a word. The sound was so intimate she might have been embarrassed, but her face stayed cool. Such was the sorcery of Rebecca’s firefly field.

“Hi.”

His gaze through the dark was like a warm hand on her cheek. An urge to lean into his chest tugged at her insides. His head, a silhouette in dim lamplight, tilted skyward, and she turned back to the trees. Minutes passed, and the only sounds were the mingled songs of the crickets and the creek.

“Is Mamm home?” Rebecca asked.

“Come along, and we’ll see.” Held high, the lantern lit a path through the field.

Rebecca danced into the light. “If she isn’t, can I have a cookie before bed?”

“If you hurry.” He gestured the way.

With one final glance to the treetops, Tessa turned and followed Rebecca across the field.

He drew up beside her, lowering the lamp to light the uneven terrain.

Rebecca leapt over a fallen stalk. “Can I have two cookies?”

“Just this once.”

“You say that every time.”

He chuckled. “You’re too clever, Rebecca Beiler.”

Rebecca twirled again, sure-footed in the night. “I know.”

Tessa stepped carefully over the stalk. “I’d like to thank Mrs. Beiler for the pies. They were delicious.”

Pausing at the edge of the woods, Rebecca caught a firefly in cupped hands. “Monday is her quilting night. She goes to Mrs. Stoltzfus’ every Monday after supper, and Jonas and I can draw pictures and do whatever we like.”

So, Jonas had known Nora wouldn’t be home when he asked her to return that night at sundown. Go figure.

“I’ll give her your thanks.” Once beyond the forest, he led the way over the bridge and into the backyard.

The lamplight through the garden trellis cast spidery, shifting shadows.

Rebecca darted in and out of darkness. “Do you like our garden gate, Tessa?”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Jonas made it.”

She paused at the garden entrance. “He did?”

“He builds things for lots of people. He’s a carpenter like our Lord.”

Tracing her fingers over the gracefully arched wood, she sighed. She could only dream of having such a gate in her garden.

Jonas took his niece by the hand. “I believe it’s time for bed.”

“No-o-o.”