“Say, Ellie,” Arie Ann said conspiratorially in a lowered voice, “did ya notice who’s here?” The pretty brunette bobbed her head toward the side yard, where both guys and girls were playing volleyball.

Ellie glanced at her. First Evan and now Arie Ann. Does everyone think they know who I like?

“Maybe ya missed seein’ him when he arrived,” Arie Ann added.

“For goodness’ sake.” Leah surprised Ellie by speaking up.

“It’s just us girls,” Sally said. “Who’re ya talkin’ ’bout?”

Ellie held her breath, hoping Arie Ann wouldn’t take the bait. But right then the volleyball came flying onto the porch, and all the girls ducked. Ellie got up and tossed the ball back toward the net, thankful for the distraction.

Leah continued to be so quiet, if not solemn, that Ellie was befuddled. Is she sick, or is it something else? she wondered as she watched her brother leap into the air to spike the ball.

Evan’s team cheered, and Ellie smiled momentarily. But she continued to fret. What’ll happen to my brother if his lottery number is low?

During the ride back from visiting Elisabeth’s older brother Jesse and his family on Leacock Road, near the shoe store, Lyle’s father brought up a niggling topic discussed during their time there.

“So many deaths from the war, all of them unnecessary,” Daed said from the second buggy seat. “Makes me sick to my stomach. I hate to think we’ll never see some young men like Jack Herr round the area again.”

Seated up front next to Lyle, Elisabeth let out a long sigh. “Fighting’s displeasin’ to God. Such a senseless way to meet one’s end.”

“En Sin un e Schand,” Lyle said, agreeing with her.

“A sin and a shame is right,” Daed declared.

Lyle recalled what Jesse had told them during the noon meal. Evidently, the son of his English neighbor had come home from Vietnam seriously wounded, and Lyle had been troubled by Jesse’s description of the helicopter crash that caused the young man’s terrible injuries. He’s fortunate to be alive, he thought as Daed continued to talk about the war.

“Just ain’t right,” Daed was saying. “So many family trees with broken-off branches. Even the young men who do make it home aren’t the same.”

Elisabeth looked over at Lyle. “I don’t wanna be critical, but the military lottery just seems wrong to me. Like gamblin’ with lives . . . as if war itself isn’t bad enough,” she said, a quaver in her voice. “How am I s’posed to feel? How is any parent s’posed to feel? And now that Evan’s told you he didn’t register as a CO, I wonder every day what’s to happen if he gets called up.”

“Ach, love, ya mustn’t stew.” Lyle wanted to reassure her. “We’ll live each day as it comes.”