A few minutes later, a car pulled up and parked on the road near the front lawn. The driver was a young man Lyle didn’t recognize, but the windows were rolled down enough for him to spot Evan on the passenger side. For a few minutes, he could hear the two of them discussing something, and rather heatedly at that. Then abruptly, Evan opened his door and got out. A few seconds later, the car took off again, shooting away from the shoulder and onto the road.

Evan plodded up the maple-lined lane, shaking his head, eyes cast down.

Lyle rose from the brown wicker chair and called to him. “Son!”

Seemingly startled, Evan looked up, then forced a smile. He gestured toward the house, obviously not wanting to talk.

Tempted to say more, Lyle let it go, hard as it was.

Evan stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets and hurried on his way across the yard.

Lyle’s heart throbbed with sudden dread.

———

As Ellie was coming down the stairs with a pillowcase she had been embroidering a few minutes earlier, she heard the screen door slap. By the time she’d turned past the small pantry at the far end of the kitchen, Evan was at the sink, turning on the spigot, his neck and face red.

“Bruder?” she said. “You all right?”

He splashed water on his face, then reached for the hand towel and dried it off. “Heard the lottery drawing on Chuck Herr’s car radio,” he said, looking at her. “Mine’s twenty-five.”

“That low?” she whispered, pulse pounding. She set the pillowcase on the counter, her threaded needle pushed into the fabric.

Evan placed the towel on the counter near a bunch of ripe peaches ready to be made into jam and headed into the front room.

Ellie couldn’t help herself; she followed him in there and took a seat across the room from him. “Do Dat and Mamm know?”

Evan grimaced. “Not yet.”

She groaned softly.

Evan rubbed his hands over his face, then folded his arms and looked out the window, expressionless.

———

Lyle waited a while before heading into the house to gather his thoughts. He reached for the back screen door and stepped inside. Elisabeth was making a fresh pot of coffee on the stove. “Where’s Evan?” he asked before sitting at the table. “I thought he came inside.”

“He went to the barn a little while ago, just as I came up from the cellar.” She reached for coffee mugs from the cupboard. “I’ll put out some chocolate chip meringue bars in case he wants to join us later.”

“Gut idea,” Lyle said, determined to talk to their son. “Did he say anything?”

“Nary a word. He looked mighty discouraged, though. I saw it in his eyes.”

This added to Lyle’s concern. But curious though he was, it was better to give Evan some leeway. Best not borrow trouble.