“Not really. Just goin’ for the fun of it,” Susie told her, glancing over her shoulder at the two of them.

“I’d love to surprise Mamma with a big cast-iron skillet,” Britta said, knowing Susie would get the most benefit from it.

“Those usually go fairly high, though,” Hazel pointed out. “How much money did ya bring?”

“Only thirty dollars.” Britta shook her head. “Maybe I’ll look for some baking molds for my hope chest instead.”

Another half mile, and Susie directed Atta-Girl to turn into the long lane. As her sister halted the mare, Britta noticed the many gray buggies and some spring wagons parked along the side yard.

“Lookee over there,” Britta told Hazel. “It’s your Bruder Obie.”

Hazel nodded. “He was asked to help lead the horses to the feed wagon over yonder. See?”

Britta glanced but didn’t want to stare. Good thing Susie’s here, she thought, having seen her sister talking with Obie in the willow grove on her birthday. She knew they were close friends but suspected they could possibly be more. And she secretly hoped so, too, although she didn’t dare speculate on that with Obie’s sister—and Susie—nearby.

———

The farm sale had drawn perhaps hundreds of Amish folk, though Britta couldn’t be sure. Nevertheless, there was a cluster of yellow straw hats wherever men took interest in items such as the hunting gear lined up on what looked to be an old barn door set up on two sawhorses. A good many young men were also examining the hand tools and a drill press set out on some other tables, while a few couples inspected a wringer washer and double wash stands. Out of the corner of her eye, Britta noticed several teenage fellows over near the silo, perhaps sneaking away for a quick smoke.

“Other than at Preachin’, have you ever seen so many people in one place?” Hazel asked Britta as they strolled along together after Susie went her separate way.

“Only at horse auctions.”

Hazel laughed. “There’s something here for the whole family.”

Britta sighed. “Now that Allen and Sarah live in Missouri, Mamma and Susie are the only family I have left, ’cept for Polly and Henry.”

“I know ya miss your brother and his family.”

Britta nodded. “But I’m not as lonely for them as Mamma seems to be sometimes,” she admitted.

Hazel seemed to study her. “I can’t imagine I’d like it if anyone in my family moved away.”

Britta stopped walking and poked her wavy hair back into its bun. “Ach, I wish my hair was straighter, like yours—then I wouldn’t keep havin’ this problem.” She removed her Kapp and took out several bobby pins to fix her hair, then pushed the bobby pins back in, hoping they would hold the most unruly strands. “I wonder if my hair’s like my first Mamm’s.”