Summer Promise Read Free Page A

toward the farmhouse in the bright morning sunshine.

Two

    M iriam twisted her hands in her lap, battling the urge to turn her body around on the hard wooden bench so that she could see the entrance to the barn. All morning, people had been arriving for the funeral service. Amos Shetler had come first, driving his wagon with the long bed that would carry Jacob’s coffin to the
graabhof
, where her father would be buried. Amos’s oldest sons, Samuel and Ben, had taken charge of buggy parking, while the youngest, Enos, had stayed near the farm stand, showing
Englischers
where to park their cars. In next to no time, or so it seemed to Miriam, the big Lapp barn had filled almost to bursting with all those who had come to honor her father.
    But Sarah had not yet arrived.
    Where can she be?
Miriam wondered. She stopped twisting her fingers to pluck nervously at her dark apron. Without warning, she felt strong yet gentle fingers close over hers. She started, and then turned to face Rachel Miller, Bishop John Miller’s wife, who was seated at her right side. The spot on Miriam’s left side was empty, waiting for Sarah. As she met Rachel’s calm, dark eyes, Miriam felt the prick of tears at the back of her own.
    â€œDear Miriam,” Rachel said in a low voice. “I’m sure Sarah will be here soon. Perhaps you should wait by the door. I’m sure your sister will appreciate seeing you the moment she arrives. She has made a long, sad journey to come here.”
    Miriam shook her head, as if to dispel the thoughts that so troubled her. “How did you know what I was thinking?”
    Rachel gave Miriam’s hands a last squeeze and then let go. “It’s only common sense,” she said. “This is an important day for you and for Sarah. Go wait for her. It will make you feel better. And do not worry. No one is going to start the service without both of Jacob’s girls.”
    Grateful for Rachel’s understanding, Miriam rose and turned toward the entrance to the barn. Bright sunlight streamed in through the open double doors. As was the tradition in worship services, the men and boys sat on one side of the barn, and the women and girls sat facing them on the other. Miriam gazed out across a sea of dark dresses and aprons, the fronts of the women’s white
kapps
peeking out from the black head coverings they wore for the funeral. Across the center aisle, the shoulders of the men in their sober black frock coats they donned only for serious occasions brushed together. Miriam saw the scattering of dark
Englisch
dress among the crowd.
    Out of the corner of her eye, Miriam saw Daniel start to rise to his feet as well. And then, suddenly, all of Miriam’s attention was claimed by the shape of a woman carving a dark outline into the bright square of the open doors. Could this be Sarah at last? Quickly, Miriam hurried down the aisle. The figure in the doorway took a few tentative steps, as if uncertain where to go, or perhaps it was just that her eyes were having trouble adjusting to the softer light of the barn after the brightness of the outdoors.
    As she approached, Miriam could see that the woman was wearing a simple black dress with a row of dark buttons down the front of the bodice. A triangle of dark lace covered her pale blond hair, which was cut in a chin-length bob. She wore sheer black stockings and a pair of high-heeled black shoes. In spite of herself, Miriam felt her footsteps falter. Could this, this stylish
Englisch
woman, really be Sarah?
    She looks like a stranger,
she thought. The last time Sarah had visited, she had come in Plain clothes. Miriam remembered her saying that she’d put them on before leaving for the airport, so she would fit back in easily. And now, did she no longer want to fit in, to be part of them?
    Sarah started forward, her hands outstretched. “Miriam,” she breathed. Her hands found Miriam’s and held on tight. “Oh,