Hard as it was, she chose not to tell Leah about the news of Sol’s and Evan’s low draft lottery numbers. After all, her Mamm or Sol himself would surely let her know about his situation. And besides, Evan’s response to receiving a low number was too perplexing to share. So she began by mentioning the upcoming youth activities, especially the volleyball tournament scheduled for next Saturday evening at her brother Rudy’s small goat farm. He and Lovina were having a cookout for all the district’s youth. It’ll be nice, Ellie wrote, with roasting ears, hot dogs, and my sister-in-law’s homemade relish. I really wish you could be there, too!

Putting down the pen, Ellie struggled with how much to share about the youth events here. She didn’t want Leah to feel left out. On the other hand, she wanted her to know how very much she was missed.

Sighing, Ellie leaned forward, her elbows on the desk, and heard male voices floating up from the front of the house. A car door slammed, and she went to the other window, where she observed her brother below. Evan was shaking his head and frowning something fierce.

“Evan?” she called, surprised he’d gone riding in a car on the Lord’s Day, something they weren’t permitted to do. Then again, her brother had pushed so many other boundaries, why was she surprised by this one?

He glanced up at her. “I’m not the best company right now, Ellie.”

“Ach, Bruder. Can’t we talk?”

He sighed. “Nothin’ to say . . . not now.” He hurried up the lane, and Ellie leaned against the windowsill and made herself take a deep breath. O Lord, my brother needs Thy help—and quick.

———

Sitting in the glider with his wife while drinking iced meadow tea on the back porch, Lyle had been staring out at the wide meadow where wildflowers bloomed, trying to relax. But then he’d suddenly heard Evan’s voice. “I think I’d better talk to him,” he told Elisabeth.

He headed down the steps to the walkway, where he waited for his son to come around. When Evan appeared, Lyle asked him to go with him into the house.

“It’s so hot. I’m burnin’ up.” Evan pressed his lips together and wiped his forehead with his hand.

“Some cold tea’ll do ya gut,” Lyle said, motioning toward the side door.

Surprisingly, Evan led the way. In the kitchen, he went directly to the refrigerator and poured a tall tumbler of cold tea for himself. Then he crossed the kitchen to sit near the open window at the foot of the table, where he’d sat when he was young, long before his older siblings married and left home.

Lyle could guess why he’d chosen to sit so far away. “I heard ya talkin’ to someone,” he said. “Ellie, maybe?”