avoiding me?”
Her friend’s face turned serious as she leaned closer. “Whatever you do, don’t bring up the angel. Nothing about seeing an Englischer either. They think—” She bit her bottom lip.
“What? Deborah, you muscht tell me.”
“They think the stress has addled your mind.”
Judith swallowed hard. “Do you?”
“Nay! ”
At least someone believed her. Judith bobbed her head toward the kitchen. “Let’s take water out to the field.”
As Judith opened the kitchen cabinet and removed two gallon-sized glass pickle jars, several of the younger children entered the room and circled around her.
“Will you take us outside for a walk?” Emily asked.
“Perhaps, after I take water to the men in the field.”
“Can we kumm with you?” Rachel asked.
Emily bounced on the balls of her feet. “Please.”
Martha entered the kitchen. “What are the jars for?”
“Water.” Judith took the containers to the sink.
Emily tugged Martha’s dress. “We’re going to take water out to the field with Judith.”
“And she’ll probably tell you stories of seeing an angel too.” Martha’s voice grew louder. “Would you like that? Would you like to hear stories of how she followed an Englischer and he disappeared in the fog?”
Silence fell over the kitchen.
Then Ellen intervened. “Stop telling the children that,” she said.
Emily leaned her head against Judith’s arm. “She’s a gut storyteller.” She turned to her mamm . “Can we take water out to the field with Judith?”
“ Nay , nett a gut idea.” She redirected Emily toward the sitting room.
“She can go with me. I’ll take water out,” Martha suggested.
Emily spun back around. “ Jah , please, Mamm ?”
“I suppose their water jugs are empty by nau .” Emily’s mamm looked down at her daughter and smiled. “You can go with Martha, but stay away from the horses.”
“Jah.”
Martha cast a gloating smirk at Judith. “I’ll take the jars.”
Judith’s eyes darted from one woman’s down-turned head to another. Without saying anything, she turned and went outside.
Deborah followed. “I don’t understand your sister. Didn’t she know not to bring up that subject of storytelling?”
“She knows exactly what she’s doing. And she knows how much I love spending time with the children.”
Deborah rested her hand on Judith’s shoulder. “I know you do. And they love your stories. But . . . if you want a marriage proposal, you need to change your storytelling image.”
“You know I want to be married more than anything. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.” She glanced at the house. She didn’t want to be on the porch when Martha came outside. “I’m going to take a walk.”
“I’ll kumm .” Deborah stepped off the porch.
“ Nay . I don’t want to get you into trouble too.” She motioned to the house. “I just need a few minutes away from everyone. I won’t be long.”
“Find a place and pray. This all muscht blow over or I fear you’ll end up leddich like Katie.”
For years the girls had heard Ellen despair of her sister Katie’s unmarried status. And they both pledged not to follow Katie’s unfortunate footsteps and be disappointments to their parents. Judith turned and walked toward the barn, but with the men stocking the loft with hay, she couldn’t hide inside with the horses.
She rounded the corner of the barn and paused at the place where she’d found Samuel unresponsive. Please forgive me, Lord. I’ve managed to embarrass my family. How will I ever earn their respect? They all think I’m telling stories. But I did see an angel, didn’t I?
She continued to walk across the pasture toward the apple orchard. At the end of the grove, she followed the footpath that weaved between the yellow-leafed poplar trees down to the river. This summer she had been busy with garden work and hadn’t spent time at the river as she loved to do. Today wasn’t warm enough to remove her shoes and soak
Her friend’s face turned serious as she leaned closer. “Whatever you do, don’t bring up the angel. Nothing about seeing an Englischer either. They think—” She bit her bottom lip.
“What? Deborah, you muscht tell me.”
“They think the stress has addled your mind.”
Judith swallowed hard. “Do you?”
“Nay! ”
At least someone believed her. Judith bobbed her head toward the kitchen. “Let’s take water out to the field.”
As Judith opened the kitchen cabinet and removed two gallon-sized glass pickle jars, several of the younger children entered the room and circled around her.
“Will you take us outside for a walk?” Emily asked.
“Perhaps, after I take water to the men in the field.”
“Can we kumm with you?” Rachel asked.
Emily bounced on the balls of her feet. “Please.”
Martha entered the kitchen. “What are the jars for?”
“Water.” Judith took the containers to the sink.
Emily tugged Martha’s dress. “We’re going to take water out to the field with Judith.”
“And she’ll probably tell you stories of seeing an angel too.” Martha’s voice grew louder. “Would you like that? Would you like to hear stories of how she followed an Englischer and he disappeared in the fog?”
Silence fell over the kitchen.
Then Ellen intervened. “Stop telling the children that,” she said.
Emily leaned her head against Judith’s arm. “She’s a gut storyteller.” She turned to her mamm . “Can we take water out to the field with Judith?”
“ Nay , nett a gut idea.” She redirected Emily toward the sitting room.
“She can go with me. I’ll take water out,” Martha suggested.
Emily spun back around. “ Jah , please, Mamm ?”
“I suppose their water jugs are empty by nau .” Emily’s mamm looked down at her daughter and smiled. “You can go with Martha, but stay away from the horses.”
“Jah.”
Martha cast a gloating smirk at Judith. “I’ll take the jars.”
Judith’s eyes darted from one woman’s down-turned head to another. Without saying anything, she turned and went outside.
Deborah followed. “I don’t understand your sister. Didn’t she know not to bring up that subject of storytelling?”
“She knows exactly what she’s doing. And she knows how much I love spending time with the children.”
Deborah rested her hand on Judith’s shoulder. “I know you do. And they love your stories. But . . . if you want a marriage proposal, you need to change your storytelling image.”
“You know I want to be married more than anything. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.” She glanced at the house. She didn’t want to be on the porch when Martha came outside. “I’m going to take a walk.”
“I’ll kumm .” Deborah stepped off the porch.
“ Nay . I don’t want to get you into trouble too.” She motioned to the house. “I just need a few minutes away from everyone. I won’t be long.”
“Find a place and pray. This all muscht blow over or I fear you’ll end up leddich like Katie.”
For years the girls had heard Ellen despair of her sister Katie’s unmarried status. And they both pledged not to follow Katie’s unfortunate footsteps and be disappointments to their parents. Judith turned and walked toward the barn, but with the men stocking the loft with hay, she couldn’t hide inside with the horses.
She rounded the corner of the barn and paused at the place where she’d found Samuel unresponsive. Please forgive me, Lord. I’ve managed to embarrass my family. How will I ever earn their respect? They all think I’m telling stories. But I did see an angel, didn’t I?
She continued to walk across the pasture toward the apple orchard. At the end of the grove, she followed the footpath that weaved between the yellow-leafed poplar trees down to the river. This summer she had been busy with garden work and hadn’t spent time at the river as she loved to do. Today wasn’t warm enough to remove her shoes and soak
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