His name is Reuben Miller, and his Dat is one of the preachers here. We haven’t gone out yet, but he’s talked with me several times after the common meal, and, well, I can tell he likes me. (You know when a fellow looks at you a certain way.) And the truth is, I like him, too.

Since Carolyn gives me Sundays off, I’ll be able to go if Reuben ever asks me out riding after Singing. Of course, with my responsibilities, I can’t attend any of the other youth activities, but that’s all right. After all, I’m here to look after Carolyn’s children, not to be courted.

I’d thought of telling you when I was home for Christmas, but I’d known Reuben just a little while, and I wasn’t sure our relationship would go anywhere. But this past Sunday at Singing, we talked quite a lot, so I’m more certain now about his interest.

“Oh goodness,” Ellie whispered, a wave of despair threatening to wash over her. But thankfully, the rest of the letter said nothing more about Reuben Miller.

She returned the letter to the envelope and placed it on the counter. I wonder if she’s told Sol about this fellow, she thought, not wanting to be the one to reveal the possibility that his sister might fall for a beau so far away.

At the end of the first Singing of the new year, and after he’d put his hand on hers in the sleigh, Ellie wondered if Menno might ask her to go riding with him alone. She really hoped so, although they’d had so much fun doubling with other couples, especially Sol and Ruthann.

Menno was standing in the corner of the hosts’ large basement with the other fellows, all of them talking and laughing like the guys often did during refreshments.

Ruthann joined Ellie at the refreshment table for a cookie. “I wish we were goin’ out with you and Menno again,” she said softly. “But Sol didn’t bring his father’s enclosed carriage, so we must not be. I wonder why.”

“Uh, maybe he wants to spend time with you alone sometimes?” Ellie smiled at her. “Be happy.”

“I am, but ’tween you and me, Sol seems different when we’re alone.”

Ellie was surprised. “What do ya mean?”

“Not sure.” Ruthann paused. “Just not as much fun, I guess.”

“Well, double-dating is more lighthearted—everyone joins in the chatter, ya know. Serious dating is a completely different approach. And remember, there’s courting to think ’bout, eventually.”

Ruthann nodded. “Jah.” But she didn’t look convinced.

The host blew the pitch pipe, signaling it was time to return to the tables and sing for another hour.