Dear Lord in heaven, I thank Thee for all the years of my friendship with Leah. Please, I pray, keep her from straying from the Old Ways and from Thy plan for her life. Bless her for being willing to help the troubled family in Chambersburg. Be ever near her and remind her of Thy great love, O Lord. And give Evan wisdom to realize he is not doing Thy will—not even close. I pray these things in Thy holy name. Amen.

Ellie awoke the next day, looking forward to Ruthann’s visit and baking with her. But her cousin had a way of sensing things, and if Ellie wasn’t bright and cheery, she’d ask what was bothering her. Not ready to talk about Leah’s departure just yet—still feeling numb about it—she was determined to keep a pleasant attitude.

After making scrambled egg muffins for breakfast with Mamm, she cut the lawn with the push mower. When she stopped to wipe her brow with her hankie, she heard the familiar song of a black-capped chickadee—a whistled fee-bee-ee. Looking around, she saw its black-and-white head as it scavenged amongst the bushes near the cider-making shed, a few yards from the small family fruit store where she waited on customers four days a week, trading off with Dat and sometimes Mamm, too.

Again, Ellie heard the chickadee singing its heart out. Maybe we need another birdhouse round here. She glanced at the side yard, where Evan had erected two tall purple martin birdhouses several years ago. Was he spending time with Jack Herr and other worldly fellows even then? she wondered. She was upset with herself for not guessing sooner, if that was the case.

But wasn’t it? On the day Evan told her that he was going to Jack’s burial, he’d also mentioned he had started exploring what he might be missing before he was even fifteen.

When Cousin Ruthann arrived, the two of them set to work making butterscotch cookies, another of Evan’s favorites. Ruthann told her she’d heard through the grapevine that Sol had attended the Ascension Day barbecue at Zeke Mast’s farm. “I can’t tell ya how upset I am about not goin’ to the right picnic,” she said. “It’s annoying.”

“Well, you were with Sol at Singing last Sunday,” Ellie said, reminding her. “He talked to ya during refreshments, ain’t so?”

Ruthann shrugged. “He said hi to me, but that was mostly it. And then Menno offered us a ride. . . .” She grimaced. “Anyway, I still can’t believe Sol was at the barbecue where you and Evan were . . . and I wasn’t.”

“You should’ve come with us,” Ellie said, teasing now.

“Oh, next time I will.”

Ellie suggested she should be sure to smile at Sol next time she saw him at market or after Preaching. “Don’t be shy, okay?”