first."
He'd explained that, all in all, they'd hiked fifteen mountains in the "fourteener" category before his fortieth birthday. "We were young then," he'd said. "We called ourselves `weekend warriors.' We would have hiked a mountain every weekend, if the Good Lord had allowed it."
She'd gotten the distinct feeling that something had altered their passion for hiking mountains around the time Gilbert Browning had turned forty, though he hadn't said just what.
Later, after the cake had cooled enough to frost it, Rose bid Mr. Browning good-bye and let herself out, feeling rather sad the man would be alone with his memories for yet another week.
The sun was high overhead when Rose hurried down the steps and made her way across the side yard to the waiting horse. The mail carrier was coming up the road, stopping at the house two doors away.
Going to Alfalfa, she gently tapped her fingers on the mare's muzzle, caressing her. "I'll get you some water over yonder," she whispered, leaning closer again. She'd seen a well on the side of Donna Becker's house and assumed the friendly woman wouldn't mind if Rose gave her horse a drink.
She was looking forward to seeing Donna again, as she'd been invited before to her charming home, which was as snug and well kept as Gilbert's was drafty and untidy. She'd learned recently that Donna was a distant cousin of Arie Miller Zook through marriage. What a small world! The first time Rose had taken tea with Donna, Rose had been surprised to learn of the connection to Hen's former close friend. Hen's best friend, thought Rose as she watered Alfalfa and gave her a sugar cube.
Later, when they were having cookies with some raspberry tea with honey, near the kitchen window, Donna again brought up the relationship she shared with Arie, Rachel Glick's cousin. "Rachel has a job opening at her little fabric shop. She's been interviewing potential employees all week."
"Oh?" Right away, Rose thought of Hen. She hoped Donna might fill in the blanks, since Hen hadn't given her much to go on other than that she'd applied for the job.
"Can you keep a secret?" Donna said, eyes twinkling.
"I'm ever so gut at that." Rose smiled.
"Well, my cousin told me she's very excited about your sister, Hen. What a cute nickname!"
Rose nodded her head, explaining how her older sister had gone from Hannah to Hen as a youngster. "It's remarkable that any of us keep our given names, especially if we have younger siblings, ya know," she said, then sipped her tea.
Donna laughed. "Whatever her name, Hen made a very good impression on Rachel and the other clerk."
"I can certainly vouch for Hen's ability as a seamstress. And she knows what fabrics and colors Amish find acceptable."
Donna smiled. "Sounds like a good fit."
Rose laughed at the pun. She was curious how Donna's family had come to have an Amish cousin, but before she could ask, here came Farley, barking for a treat. Donna rose quickly and went to the counter, taking a treat from a cookie jar. "This one's spoiled ... and not just a little."
"Hen really wants a puppy." Rose didn't know why she brought it up.
"I'll bet it's for her daughter, right?" Donna said. "Every child longs for a pet."
"I wouldn't be surprised." Rose thought Donna must know more about her sister than she was letting on. She steered the conversation to the reclusive neighbor. "How's Mr. Browning's health, do ya know?"
"Mental or otherwise?" Donna glanced out the window toward the older house. "I don't know what to do to help him. He sits and broods most of the time, at least when I've gone over with a pie or cookies. He must miss his wife, but it can't be good for him to hole up in that house."
Rose nodded her agreement.
"My husband invited him to go small-game hunting, but Gilbert declined."
"Maybe he's not a hunter," Rose suggested.
Donna reached for her tea. "Maybe not."
"Well, I baked a cake for him today ... at his request." She paused, looking across the yard at Mr.
He'd explained that, all in all, they'd hiked fifteen mountains in the "fourteener" category before his fortieth birthday. "We were young then," he'd said. "We called ourselves `weekend warriors.' We would have hiked a mountain every weekend, if the Good Lord had allowed it."
She'd gotten the distinct feeling that something had altered their passion for hiking mountains around the time Gilbert Browning had turned forty, though he hadn't said just what.
Later, after the cake had cooled enough to frost it, Rose bid Mr. Browning good-bye and let herself out, feeling rather sad the man would be alone with his memories for yet another week.
The sun was high overhead when Rose hurried down the steps and made her way across the side yard to the waiting horse. The mail carrier was coming up the road, stopping at the house two doors away.
Going to Alfalfa, she gently tapped her fingers on the mare's muzzle, caressing her. "I'll get you some water over yonder," she whispered, leaning closer again. She'd seen a well on the side of Donna Becker's house and assumed the friendly woman wouldn't mind if Rose gave her horse a drink.
She was looking forward to seeing Donna again, as she'd been invited before to her charming home, which was as snug and well kept as Gilbert's was drafty and untidy. She'd learned recently that Donna was a distant cousin of Arie Miller Zook through marriage. What a small world! The first time Rose had taken tea with Donna, Rose had been surprised to learn of the connection to Hen's former close friend. Hen's best friend, thought Rose as she watered Alfalfa and gave her a sugar cube.
Later, when they were having cookies with some raspberry tea with honey, near the kitchen window, Donna again brought up the relationship she shared with Arie, Rachel Glick's cousin. "Rachel has a job opening at her little fabric shop. She's been interviewing potential employees all week."
"Oh?" Right away, Rose thought of Hen. She hoped Donna might fill in the blanks, since Hen hadn't given her much to go on other than that she'd applied for the job.
"Can you keep a secret?" Donna said, eyes twinkling.
"I'm ever so gut at that." Rose smiled.
"Well, my cousin told me she's very excited about your sister, Hen. What a cute nickname!"
Rose nodded her head, explaining how her older sister had gone from Hannah to Hen as a youngster. "It's remarkable that any of us keep our given names, especially if we have younger siblings, ya know," she said, then sipped her tea.
Donna laughed. "Whatever her name, Hen made a very good impression on Rachel and the other clerk."
"I can certainly vouch for Hen's ability as a seamstress. And she knows what fabrics and colors Amish find acceptable."
Donna smiled. "Sounds like a good fit."
Rose laughed at the pun. She was curious how Donna's family had come to have an Amish cousin, but before she could ask, here came Farley, barking for a treat. Donna rose quickly and went to the counter, taking a treat from a cookie jar. "This one's spoiled ... and not just a little."
"Hen really wants a puppy." Rose didn't know why she brought it up.
"I'll bet it's for her daughter, right?" Donna said. "Every child longs for a pet."
"I wouldn't be surprised." Rose thought Donna must know more about her sister than she was letting on. She steered the conversation to the reclusive neighbor. "How's Mr. Browning's health, do ya know?"
"Mental or otherwise?" Donna glanced out the window toward the older house. "I don't know what to do to help him. He sits and broods most of the time, at least when I've gone over with a pie or cookies. He must miss his wife, but it can't be good for him to hole up in that house."
Rose nodded her agreement.
"My husband invited him to go small-game hunting, but Gilbert declined."
"Maybe he's not a hunter," Rose suggested.
Donna reached for her tea. "Maybe not."
"Well, I baked a cake for him today ... at his request." She paused, looking across the yard at Mr.
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