Susie put her hand on her forehead. “Stress headache, I guess.” She paused. “I just need . . . uh . . . maybe an aspirin.”

“Can I get ya one?”

Susie shook her head and rushed from the room.

———

Britta leaned her face into her hands, feeling abandoned at the very moment she needed solace and acceptance. O Lord, help me, she prayed. Susie’s devastated.

She got up from the table, poured some hot water from the teakettle, and found a little box of peppermint tea in the cupboard, thinking there was a good reason why Ella Mae always had this tea simmering. She stared out the window and wondered if Susie was all right. Should she go upstairs and check on her?

Trying to be calm, Britta steeped the tea while Susie cried or prayed—or whatever she was doing upstairs. Poor sister, she thought, remembering how astonished she’d been when Mamma had told her.

After praying in her room for a time, Susie began to feel more peaceful. What a burden this knowledge must be for Britta!

Thinking back on their years together as a family, she realized that Britta had been held securely by the hand of God through every aspect of her growing-up years. There was no doubt in Susie’s mind.

Eventually, she left her room and made her way downstairs, where she saw Britta sitting alone at the table, having tea. Her heart broke for her, and she made her way across the room and sat down. “Britta . . . the accident wasn’t your fault. I hope ya know that.”

Britta nodded, eyes fixed on her.

Susie gave her a smile. “And what an unexpected blessing that Mamma got to keep you. We got to keep ya, sister.”

“After Mamma told me all this at Thanksgiving, I actually wondered some if I should stay in Hickory Hollow.” Britta set aside her empty cup. “I’ve been worryin’, and still am, that Hazel might have doubts now about what kind of person I am, or just how Amish I really am. That is, if I decide to tell her.”

Susie was concerned to hear Britta talk like this. “But don’t ya want to be frank with your friend?”

“What if she rejects me?” Britta replied. “And what if Roy does . . . if I tell him someday?”

Susie considered what was best to say; she did not want to risk the wrong thing. “Seems to me that bein’ Amish is less about being born into a community than ’bout purposefully choosing that community and pledgin’ yourself to it.” She paused a moment, trying to gather her wits. “And most important, to God and to the church.”

Britta sat very still, as though considering what Susie had said.

Then Susie asked, “You are planning to be baptized, jah?”

Again, Britta paused before answering. “Well . . . I had been.”

Susie’s heart was in her throat now. “But how does knowin’ all of this change something as significant as that?”