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this. “Ja?”
    I nod. “It came by at noon.”
    â€œI know. What will you do now?”
    I shrug, jerking my thumb toward the hotel. “I’ll spend the night there and—”
    â€œNo,” she declares. “You must come home with us.”
    â€œWhat?” I want to ask her if she’s crazy.
    â€œ Ja . It is not good for you to stay by yourself in town. A girl in a hotel all alone. It’s not good. Mamm says so. You must come back with us.” She points to the guy still sitting in the buggy. “That’s Matthew. He is Zach’s good friend. And my friend too.” She gives him a shy sideways smile. “He wanted to come here to help you.”
    I don’t know what to do now. “It’s really nice of you to come here, but—”
    â€œThen come,” she urges.
    â€œI can’t go back,” I tell her. “Not to your house.”
    â€œ Ja , you can!” She takes me firmly by the arm, pulling me toward the buggy. “Come on, Micah. Matthew must get the buggy back by 5:00.”
    â€œBut I can’t go—”
    â€œYou don’t want to be in a hotel by yourself,” she insists. “That is not good for a girl alone. Not even an English one.”
    â€œBut I—”
    â€œ Come on , Micah.” She gives me a serious look. “Besides . . . I think that Zach wants to speak to you.”
    â€œZach?”
    â€œ Ja . He got your letter. I saw him reading it out by the barn. He has something to say to you, Micah. Now, please, come!”
    I can’t resist the lure she’s just thrown at me. Is it possible that Zach really does want to talk to me? It would be so nice to smooth things over with him before going home. “Okay,” I agree. “I’ll go with you. But I’ll come back tomorrow and catch the next bus home.”
    â€œJa, ja.” She grabs my still soggy backpack from me, tossing it into the back of the buggy. “Let’s go home, Micah!”
    Katy chatters happily at me as Matthew silently drives the buggy down Main Street, then turns back toward the farm. Katy tells me how they went to their church service in the morning, how they stayed after to have a light lunch, and how they discovered my letters when they got home. “Matthew gave me and Sarah a ride home,” she explains. “When I told him about you leaving like that, he offered to drive me to town to find you.” She glances at Matthew, then turns to beam at me. “Matthew turns eighteen next month, and he is a very good carpenter.”
    â€œHow old are you?” I ask Katy, trying to determine the level of her interest in this young man.
    â€œI’ll be sixteen in November,” she says proudly.
    â€œOh.” I nod.
    â€œI’ll be done with school this year.” She makes a happy sigh. “The end of May.”
    I remember that Amish kids end their schooling at eighth grade. That’s it. Over and done with. No more education. At least no more formal education, though some of the young men will take on apprenticeships after they leave school. I can’t even wrap my head around how it would feel to be finished with school when you’re only fourteen. Zach’s been out of school for several years now. I remember when he wrote to me saying he was unhappy that his schooling came to an end. He confessed that he secretly longs for more.
    He also told me about how he “sneaks” books from town. Every time he gets the chance, he goes to the public library and picks up some books. He says they’re on unrelated topics—whatever happens to catch his eye at the moment. Everything from auto repair, which is ironic, to world history, which I suppose is equally ironic since chances are he’ll never travel more than thirty miles from here. He has to read the books by lantern light after his little brothers fall asleep at night. Naturally, his family is