Ellie didn’t think it was wise to tell Evan about Menno—she didn’t want to distract him with such things. But she did write out a couple of Scripture passages, hoping they might encourage her brother in whatever he might face overseas. One especially she prayed would make him stop and think—Proverbs 3:5–6: Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.

Oh, how she prayed he would take those verses to heart.

A few days later, Ellie rose extra early to accomplish her indoor chores before breakfast, then pulled on a pair of Evan’s old trousers under her dress and apron and went out to help prune trees with the crew. The scratch brush from pruning the apple trees had finally been removed and piled into an enormous bonfire, an annual tradition for the workers. Once the fire burned down to embers, each person used a stick to cook a hot dog for fun. But now it was time to trim and shape the peach trees, with the goal to finish up by mid-April.

This morning, her thoughts were on a lengthy letter she’d received from Cousin Ruthann, revealing that she’d thought it over and wanted to call it quits with Sol—and of all things, she was asking Ellie for advice on how to do it by letter. Do you think Sol will be hurt? Ruthann had asked.

Goodness, how should I know? Ellie wondered, wishing her cousin hadn’t put her on the spot. But sensing Ruthann’s urgency, Ellie decided to write back that very afternoon.

As the work of the orchard overlapped with Ellie’s indoor work, the days passed more quickly, and she was filled with expectation—she should soon be hearing from Evan again. To keep from fretting, she wrote two more letters, trusting they might eventually catch up with him wherever he was fighting.

Finally, she received a letter from her brother two weeks after she’d sent her last one.

I miss you, Ellie, he’d written on the first line. I’ve been receiving your wonderful-good letters and look forward to them when they arrive at the army base in Long Binh Post once each week. The mail is delivered to us out here by a supply helicopter, and sometimes new troops joining our unit bring mail, too. I can’t tell you exactly where I’m fighting, but I’m doing okay so far. Please let Mamm know . . . and Dat, if he’s interested.

She held back tears as she read, not wanting Mamm to know how blue she felt, trying not to picture Evan fighting in a flooded rice field, like was often described in the newspapers. Right there, she bowed her head and prayed, asking God for the thousandth time to bring him home alive.