“But my hair’s not very tidy,” Ruthann said, shaking her head. “I think we oughta head back to your house.”

“But ya wanna get married at some point perty soon, don’t ya? Gotta get a fella’s eyes on ya somehow.”

As they headed back down the hill, Ruthann was quiet. Was she thinking about Sol and the draft lottery? Ellie wondered if her cousin worried about him the way she worried about Evan. If their numbers were called and they refused to go, Englischers around here might bully them.

When will this awful war end?

The next morning Lyle Hostetler walked with his eldest son, Jonah, out to the northernmost end of the orchard, where the new apple trees had been planted last month. He was mighty pleased with the thriving orchard his father planted many years before. He remembered walking between the many varieties of fruit trees as a lad, holding his Daed’s callused hand.

“An orchard is a reminder of God’s hand at work on the earth, creating these trees to bear fruit each and every year,” Daed would say.

Lyle had come to appreciate God’s faithfulness and the seasons that led to the harvest and then repeated the cycle year after year. Working in the orchard was not only his life but his responsibility, though at fifty-six he wasn’t quite as spry as a youth. But he could hold his own, even around Evan, who worked the hardest of all.

And then there’s Ellie, he thought fondly. It was quite possible his daughter loved the orchard more than any of them. In fact, when it came to working there, she was often the first to volunteer—if her household duties were done.

“Say, did Evan work a full day yesterday?” Lyle asked.

Jonah looked confused. “Nee, but I assumed ya knew that.”

“Oh?”

“Jah, he got himself all dressed up and hurried out toward the road. He didn’t say why he was taking the afternoon off, but I figured he was headed to Jack Herr’s burial.” He paused. “Didn’t ya know they spent time together?”

Lyle shook his head. “Nee, and Evan never said a word ’bout goin’.” Perplexed, he puffed his cheeks and then blew out the air. He’d read Jack’s obituary in the newspaper and heard talk in the community about how devastated the Herr family was. “If that’s where he went, though, Evan must’ve known Jack fairly well.”

“Must have.” Jonah began working along the drip line of the new trees, spreading fertilizer.