In the near distance, an early firecracker exploded, then three more—pop, pop, pop! The sounds startled her out of her musing. Someone must be in a hurry to celebrate Independence Day, she thought, looking forward to her sister and family coming for ice cream after supper. There wouldn’t be any firecrackers here, but there would be candy sprinkles and chocolate syrup to drizzle over Dat’s creamy, homemade vanilla ice cream. Hopefully, Evan would be on hand to enjoy the celebration with them, too.

That evening at supper, Dawdi Hezekiah seemed more like himself for the first time since Evan’s announcement, telling one story after another. Ellie enjoyed his lighthearted demeanor and perked up when he started talking about how, since boyhood, he’d always sought to be prepared for anything.

“Like what?” Evan asked between bites.

“Well, for the unavoidable, for instance.” Dawdi gave a nod of his white head. “That’s why I’ve decided to build my own coffin,” he said, a twinkle in his eyes.

“Dawdi . . .” Ellie said.

“I measured myself from head to toe and located some used pine wood. Should be all ready to start.”

“Oh for goodness’ sake,” Mamm said, eyebrows aloft.

“Several of my uncles did this very thing,” Dawdi said. “So I’ll be prepared like they were, and yous won’t have to bother havin’ one built at the last minute.” Dawdi reached for another dinner roll and slathered butter and some thick strawberry jam on it, seemingly untroubled at the thought of his own end.

Evan was clearly paying attention to the conversation now. “Never heard of such a thing.”

“Puh! Folks said the selfsame thing back when I planted my big orchard,” Dawdi retorted.

“And the orchard worked out fine,” Dat said with a smile. “And continues to.”

Ellie disliked thinking about Dawdi’s passing. “I wish ya wouldn’t talk about coffin building.” She glanced at Evan, who nodded in agreement.

Dawdi waved the comment away. “Well, as the Good Book says, ‘It is appointed unto men once to die.’”

“Still, it’s too soon for ya to talk this way, Dawdi.” Ellie wished for a different topic.

“All in Gott’s time,” he replied. “And no need to weep for me when I’m gone, Ellie-girl. I’ll be home with the Lord who made me, who planned for me to be born Amish and live a right gut life . . . well, ’cept for that long-ago trial I had durin’ the Great War.”

Dat frowned and coughed a little, and Ellie wondered what on earth Dawdi meant.

9

Lyle was turning the hand-crank ice cream maker on the walkway out back when Evan hurried down the porch steps and out to the carriage shed. When he pushed his open courting carriage out to the lane, Lyle wondered what was up.