“I’m glad she likes it,” Susie said, realizing how nice looking Del was. It had been such a while since she’d seen him that she’d forgotten.

“When’s a gut time to stop by?” Del asked, his brown eyes dancing.

“The shop’s open Tuesdays through Thursdays—nine to four. But I could show ya right quick, if you’d like.”

“Denki, but I really need to be on my way. I’ll come back a different day.” He tipped his straw hat and offered another smile. “Say . . . now that I’m here, I’ve been wonderin’—how would ya like to go to the farm auction with me this Saturday?”

At that moment, Susie noticed Obie’s mother, Kate, coming toward them in her gray family buggy. Kate turned her head to nod as she approached, and when Susie waved to her, Kate waved back with a pleasant expression. I’ve always liked Kate. Susie wondered if the woman ever hoped her son might ask Susie out. So far, though, it looked like Obie wasn’t going to, and here was Del, showing interest right now.

If I ever hope to marry, I’d better start accepting dates again, she thought, not having done so for several years in the hope that Obie just might make a move.

She thought back to her birthday, five long days ago. She hadn’t seen or heard from him since then. Be patient, she’d told herself. You’ve waited this long.

Yet what if Obie never asks me out? another part of her argued.

She became aware that Del’s focus remained on her, his eyes questioning.

“Jah, I can meet ya at the auction,” Susie said at last, mentioning she’d already made plans to take her sister and Britta’s friend Hazel along.

“That’s fine,” Del said, brightening. “Let’s meet at the food stand.”

Susie nodded.

“I’ll see ya Saturday.”

“Okay.” She felt a little awkward that Kate had seen her with Del, though she really shouldn’t. Surely Kate knew better than most that Susie and Obie were merely friends.

“Well, have yourself a nice afternoon.” Del picked up the driving lines and pulled away from the shoulder back onto the road.

“Tell Deacon Peachey hullo,” Susie called, eyeing the big load of mulch again. She remembered how Dat would haul wheelbarrows full of dried compost to spread around Mamma’s flower beds every spring. Helping her was his greatest joy. . . .

Missing those days, Susie made her way back up the driveway toward the house to cook the noon meal for her and Mamma.

Britta awakened a few moments before daylight that Saturday and slipped out of bed to raise her dark green shades. She stood yawning and waiting for the first pale washes of color across the sky—that cherished moment of peace each morning while she was still hazy with sleep.