I thought then of my best friend, Leah, who lived two farms up from us. I couldn’t imagine losing her like Evan had lost his friend Jack. Goodness, I’d known Leah was meant to be my friend clear back when we met as youngsters. At recess that first day of school, she’d whispered to me that her favorite thing to do was sit on her covered porch while it rained. It was as if lightning had struck, because there was no way she could’ve known one of my favorite things was exactly that, too.

Shaking the remaining blossoms from my hair, I walked back to the house and looked toward our newly painted white barn and the carriage shed nearby. A plump red robin flew across to its nest high in one of the two oak trees Dat planted the day Evan and I were born, and in that moment a frightening thought crossed my mind—something else Leah had told me in a whisper.

On July first there’d be a military draft lottery drawing for nineteen-year-old boys. Even for our Amish fellows, although I was sure most if not all of them had registered as conscientious objectors. I shuddered to think of it. How many more young men would have to die like Jack Herr?

I hurried past our family’s fruit store and up the walkway toward the house, my heart filled with dread.

1

From Ellie’s spot in the backyard, where she was hanging a quilt on the clothesline, she could see her twin trudging home from Jack Herr’s burial service. He was meandering this way through the north side of the orchard, out of view from the house, his shoulders stooped and head bowed. The sight of him made her sad.

Evan’s carrying a weight of sorrow, she thought, her heart soft toward him.

She glanced back at the house and wondered if it was safe for her to run out and say something kind to lift her brother’s spirits. But she certainly didn’t want to call attention to him. Only a few minutes ago, she’d heard a car in the near distance, and still up in her sewing room, Mamm might have heard it, too. No doubt Evan had traveled to and from Carlisle with one of the English neighbor boys.

Her back and neck muscles tense, she kept on with the task of draping bed quilts over the clothesline for their springtime airing. She wished Evan would glance up so she could at least wave or give him a thoughtful smile, but he proceeded to slog toward the yard, eyes on the ground.

My poor brother.

Evan turned toward the barn, and Ellie inhaled with relief. Surely he’ll pull off his black coat and nice shoes and slip Dat’s overalls on to groom Nelly or Captain. That chore helped him unwind sometimes.