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The wind tugged a dress from Charlotte’s hands and sent it flying across the yard toward her cousin. “Rachel!” she cried. “Get it!”
Rachel laughed as she quickly caught the damp garment before it hit the ground. “I almost missed it.”
“Gut catch,” her cousin said with a grin. She looked carefree and happy in a pale blue dress, white apron, and white prayer kapp.
Rachel returned her grin as she hung the dress. “These clothes won’t take long to dry in this weather.”
“Ja. It’s the perfect day for laundry,” Charlotte agreed as she reached into the basket for her sister’s black apron. “Dat and BJ are going to clean out the side room in the barn for this Sunday’s singing,” she continued, referring to her brother John, often called BJ, for Big John, when the family gathered. Little John was Sarah and Eli’s son—Charlotte’s nephew. “I think Dat is afraid if we stay in the house we’ll keep him up at night with our songs and fun.”
“It’s a gut space,” Rachel said. She grabbed a black prayer kapp and pinned it on the line. “How many will come?” The young people’s singing was an event held the evening of each church Sunday, usually at the same farm or home as the church services that morning. It was a time for young men and women of the community to intermingle for song and fun. Rachel had always enjoyed singings in her Millersburg community in Ohio.
Charlotte looked thoughtful as she continued to hang clothes. “There will be four of us—you, Nancy, BJ and me...the four oldest Lapp boys. The Zooks and Mary Hershberger...”
Noah will be coming, Rachel thought, a little disturbed to realize that she was pleased.
“And then there will be some young people from the next church district...I’m not certain how many.” Charlotte bent for a shirt and nearly collided with Rachel, whose thoughts had drifted. She laughed as she drew back quickly. “I don’t know. Fifteen or twenty?”
It would be a large gathering. “We’ll have a wonderful time,” Rachel said.
Charlotte grinned. “Ja. Lots of gut food, fine singing and wonderful company.”
The young women finished the chore and headed toward the house, their spirits high and their appearance disheveled from the wind that had loosed fine strands of hair from their pins.
“We’ve finished, Aunt Mae,” Rachel said as she entered the house. She reached up to attempt to fix her hair and then gave up, unsuccessful. “What else can I do to help?”
“You’ve done enough, Rachel. Why don’t you head toward the schuul to see how the construction is coming on the teacher’s cottage?”
“Ja,” Charlotte urged her. “You said you’d enjoy watching the work take place.”
Rachel nodded. “But surely there is more you’d like me to do first.”
“Nay,” Aunt Mae said. “Horseshoe Joe came by for Uncle Amos early this morning. They went over to Abram Peachy’s house. I told Amos that we’d come for him before supper.
“Your new haus is not far, and it’s a nice day for a walk. Just head up the lane and turn right. Be careful,” she warned, “of speeding cars along the narrow road.” She rolled her eyes. “Some of these Englishers drive like...”
Rachel nodded, pleased with the idea of visiting the cottage. “I will.” She knew her hair must look a sight. Should she head upstairs to put herself to rights first? The breeze would only pull her hair free...unless she put in extra pins.
She debated whether to fix her hair when Aunt Mae approached. “You can take these muffins for the workers. I’m sure they would enjoy something to eat about now.”
Charlotte came up from behind her mother and handed Rachel cups and a water jug. “The Lapp men will be thirsty as well.”
“Go along now, Rachel.” Aunt Mae didn’t see anything wrong with the way she looked, Rachel realized, so it must be all right for her to go just as she was. Besides it was wrong to worry about one’s looks. Vanity was a sin that she wouldn’t give in to.
With a brown paper bag filled with sweet muffins and cups in one hand and the jug of water in the other, Rachel started down the dirt lane that led through the King property toward the main road.
The sun felt wonderful, and Rachel tilted up her face to enjoy its warmth. A fly buzzed about her ear and, laughing, she swatted it away. The warm breeze held the scent of fresh-tilled earth and the honeysuckle that grew along one side of the lane. Rachel felt a deep sense of peace and contentment as she walked.
Would she see Noah at the house? Her heart gave a little thump. She hadn’t seen him since Sunday. While she fought hard to get him out of her mind, she couldn’t forget his face, his endearing smile and the many kindnesses he had shown her.
She reached the end of the dirt lane and waited at the edge of the paved road until a car sped past before she ventured to cross the street. She turned right and continued along the roadway, facing traffic. She smiled as she caught a glimpse of the schoolhouse and hurried on. With her heart buoyed by lightness, she approached a window and peered inside.
She grinned. She loved the rows of desks and the larger one in the front of the room. The schoolhouse was empty. Would it be unlocked?
She tried the door and realized that it was necessary to lock it when no one was about. Such a shame. She would have liked to wander around inside again.
Soon, she thought. Soon she would be standing before her class of eager students.
Rachel rounded the building and headed along the dirt drive toward the teacher’s cottage. The day was quiet. The only sounds she could hear were an occasional insect or a passing car on the main road and the breeze stirring the nearby trees and her dress hem and apron. Perhaps the Lapps couldn’t find time to work on the house today, she mused, disappointed.
Unlike the school, the cottage door stood partially open. With a frown, she hesitated only a few seconds before pushing the door in and entering.
“Samuel? Jedidiah? Noah?” she called out. “Is anyone here?”
“In the back of the haus, Rachel!” Noah appeared within seconds. “You’ve come to see the construction,” he said, sounding pleased.
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