“S’pose you’ll be seein’ Cheryl Herr again this weekend,” she said in an attempt to draw him out.

“I want to see her as often as I can before I leave.”

Ellie was still surprised at his strong attachment to Cheryl, fancy as the young woman was. She compared it to her and Menno’s experience of double-dating with not only Sol and Ruthann but Yonnie and Katie, too.

“She says she’ll wait for me till I return in two years.”

“Two years is a big commitment.”

“For sure, and no girl’s ever cared for me like that.”

“Well, you’ve never gone to war before.”

“Nee, but just think of what she’s doin’ . . . for me.”

Ellie pondered that. “So you’re sure Cheryl has absolutely no interest in becomin’ Amish?”

“Puh! Never! I told ya already.”

“Our parents aren’t going to like it if ya continue on with an Englischer, Evan. And ya know that Dat’s expectin’ you to take over as the orchard’s manager when he retires.”

“He won’t let me forget. Another big challenge.”

Ellie shook her head, ever so sad for him—yet frustrated, too.

“Dawdi, Dat, our siblings . . . nearly everyone I know ’cept Cheryl has tried to steer me in a different direction.”

“Doesn’t Cheryl worry ’bout you goin’ to fight in the war?”

Evan glanced at Ellie. “Actually, she wishes I’d asked for CO status like Chuck urged me to. But she’s not poundin’ away at it like everyone else seems to. She’s not like that.”

Miserable, Ellie sighed. What more could she say?

Two days later, while taking a quick break from picking peaches, Ellie strolled down their shady lane to get the mail. As she retrieved the letters from their big black mailbox, she noticed at the very top an important-looking envelope with the words Official Business in the upper left-hand corner and Selective Service Board written beneath that. It was addressed to Mr. Evan Hostetler. She felt like she’d been kicked in the stomach as she strode back to the house, suspecting what might be inside. How long before her brother had to leave?

She chose not to take the letter out to the orchard for Evan. For one thing, she didn’t know precisely where he was picking peaches, and for another, she didn’t want to be the one to give it to him.

Once inside the house, Ellie placed the mail on the kitchen table and returned to the orchard, strapping on her harvesting crate. She was thankful for the cloud cover now, hot as it had been. She could hear Midnight and Shadow, Benjamin Bontrager’s German shepherds, barking two farms away, and her thoughts flew to Leah. I’ll write her a letter later tonight, she thought, needing to share her thoughts with her friend.