August plodded into September, and the shorter days turned cooler as the weeks passed. Anna saw Mart occasionally—he seemed to prefer doubling up with another couple or spending time with the church youth group to outings with just the two of them. One of those times, they drove to the Green Dragon in Ephrata to walk around and eat kettle corn. Anna purchased a bag to take home to Glen and Sadie as a treat. She also enjoyed stopping at Newswanger’s Sausage for homemade sausage sandwiches, attending the small animal auction, and visiting Beulah’s Candyland and Lapp Valley Farms Ice Cream.

On the days and evenings she spent at home with Sadie, Anna continued to help make the cheer-up cards for market; they had become very popular from just word of mouth. Occasionally, Anna had also taken care of Baby Jimmy next door while Marianna and her sisters had prepared the main farmhouse for the Preaching service they’d hosted Sunday.

Friday mornings were kept solely for Anna’s time with Emmie. She relished reading to and playing with the little girl from around ten o’clock until Gabe finished up in his woodworking shop at noon and walked Emmie over to Barbara’s, where the two of them ate their noon meal while Anna left to have her own dinner with Glen and Sadie.

It had become a favorite ritual for Emmie to sit on the back porch steps waiting for Anna to arrive. Then, together, they would walk over to the tree house, where Bootsie, Emmie’s white tomcat, would sometimes amble over to join them. Hoping to encourage Emmie to talk, too, Anna would talk to the handsome feline, whose paws were as black as if it had walked through ink. Anna also recalled how Emmie seemed to relax whenever Anna talked to Promise—maybe the little girl appreciated having attention directed away from her and toward the animal.

“I think Bootsie’s happy today,” Anna said after arriving this fourth Friday in September. “He’s looking at ya, Emmie. Want to pet him?” Anna stroked the cat’s tummy when he turned over onto his back. She laughed softly and glanced at Emmie in her little black coat and black outer bonnet. “See, like this,” she said, hoping Emmie might join her. “Bootsie likes to be stroked as much as Promise does.” She waited and wondered if that might encourage Emmie to mimic her.

Slowly, cautiously, Emmie reached over to pet his tummy with Anna, Bootsie’s purring rumbly and strong now. Pleased that Emmie had copied what she was doing, Anna touched the back of Emmie’s hand. “Anna likes Emmie, too,” she said softly.

Emmie looked at her shyly but turned her attention back to Bootsie.