For as long as I can remember, our church youth have courted and married within our Amish district here,” Great-aunt Joanna was telling Eliza at breakfast before she was to leave for the meetinghouse down the road.

“Same as my church back home,” Eliza replied, spreading apple butter on her toast and glancing across the table at her aunt, wondering what she was getting at.

“Well, I’d be lax if I didn’t tell ya that someone saw you talkin’ with an Old Order fella at market yesterday.”

Eliza’s breathing stopped. She and Eb had been seen.

“This was a trusted cousin, so there’s no doubt” came the sharp remark.

Should I fess up? Eliza wondered, trying not to fidget as she took a bite of her toast.

“Is the young man sweet on ya?”

“We’re just friends.”

“Ah, so you were acquainted with him before yesterday.” It was a statement, but it sounded like a question.

“I met him when I first came here,” Eliza admitted.

“Well, I hope you don’t get any notions ’bout him. Your parents have laid down strict orders ’bout no Old Order fellas.”

“Jah, but we’re only friends,” Eliza repeated, hoping her aunt would drop it. Why’d Mamma send me here? she wondered for the hundredth time. “Would ya like more Postum?” she asked, rising to get some for herself, needing to walk a bit, if only across the kitchen floor.

“I’ll have a little more. Denki.”

Eliza went over with the teakettle and poured more hot water in her aunt’s cup, then went to get the jar of Postum.

“I want to believe ya,” her aunt said, pursing her lips as she blew gently on her steaming mug.

Well then, please do, Eliza thought. “I’m not lookin’ to marry an Old Order boy,” she said at last, and meant it.

Three weeks passed, and Eb’s letters showed up in the stone wall like clockwork on Tuesday afternoons. Eliza wrote to him, too, each time making excuses to her aunt that she wanted to go for a walk or offering to run an errand, always ending up at the wall.

One of those Tuesdays, Eliza spotted Nellie, her aunt’s cousin and neighbor, riding past in her family buggy. This seemed peculiar, considering it was the time of day when most Amishwomen were cooking supper, but Eliza smiled and waved cordially all the same. She’s not seein’ anything to report, Eliza thought, watching as Nellie’s buggy headed down the road. Besides, there’s nothing to tattle about!

TUESDAY, AUGUST 31, 1948

By the last Tuesday in August, the tone of Eb’s letters began to change. He asked her to attend his Preaching service, and while he had written this casually before, there was a marked determination now.