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Luke Hooley and his aunts had learned very few details about the man they’d rescued from the roadside.
    Once inside the store, Lydia showed Edith to the baby supplies. Plain women didn’t use a lot of formula mix, so Edith chose one of the three cans on the shelf and quickly paid for it. “ Denki so much for helping me out,” she said as they left the market.
    “Come back tomorrow afternoon,” Mrs. Zook suggested. “I’ll ask the local gals to bring whatever baby things they can spare to the store for you. You’re a saint for taking on a dead mother’s twins.”
    “That would be such a help,” Edith murmured. “I can’t thank you enough.”
    As she headed down the road with her sack, Edith felt a surge of gratitude for the folks in this town. Tomorrow was Friday and Dat was going to Kansas City—he’d be gone until evening—so she hoped she’d be caring for the babies at least another day . . . and maybe this outpouring of sentiment and assistance from the neighbors would soften her father’s heart. Or maybe, if they heard he was returning the twins to a home where they wouldn’t be properly cared for, Lydia and the other women would express their disapproval and change Dat’s mind. There had to be a way. . . .
    Edith blinked. She’d been so lost in thought that she’d headed the wrong way down the county road—toward Nora and Luke’s house on the hill instead of her own home.
    Your feet knew where your heart wanted to go. But you can’t stay long. Folks will talk — and your sisters are babysitting.
    Before she lost her nerve, Edith hurried up the driveway toward the attractive two-story house where she’d heard Asa was staying.
    * * *
    After taking a hot shower to soothe his aching body, Asa put on one of Luke Hooley’s plain green shirts and then pulled on a pair of his trousers. He and Luke were nearly the same size, and Asa was grateful that his host had loaned him some clean clothes. Despite a killer headache, he chuckled at the assortment of bold prints hanging in the closet—and at the fact that some of Luke’s shirts and Nora’s dresses matched. Not every Mennonite husband would be pleased that his woman had sewn such striking garments for him, but Asa suspected Hooley was too enamored of his attractive redheaded wife to fuss about it.
    Nice people, these Hooleys. Luke offered me a room, and Nora brought me food from the wedding.
    Asa gathered his grass-stained clothes from the bathroom floor. He eased down the wooden stairs in his bare feet, aware of every aching muscle and joint in his body. Andy Leitner had told him he was awfully lucky he’d landed in tall grass rather than on gravel, and that he hadn’t hit his head on a nearby tree. Even so, Asa chafed at the local nurse’s order to lie low for a few days until they could assess how bad his concussion was—and until his horse was checked out by a vet. He had an entire set of antique bedroom furniture waiting to be restored in his shop—not to mention his mission of finding some Gingerich guy . . . whose first name had escaped him.
    Asa shuffled carefully between the tightly arranged pew benches that filled the main level of the house, in awe of how many guests must have attended the wedding this morning. When he got to the kitchen, he lifted the foil from a glass casserole pan sitting on the counter. He inhaled the rich aroma of sauced pulled pork, several pieces of grilled chicken, and a huge mound of mashed potatoes that had been hollowed out to hold enough baked beans for three men. Next to the casserole pan sat a plate with two pieces of peach pie and a big wedge of wedding cake.
    These people know how to put on a party . Asa tossed his dirty clothes aside and then opened drawers until he found a fork. He closed his eyes over a mouthful of the pork and let out a blissful sigh. It was an effort not to wolf down the food as a dog would, hungry as he suddenly was. He didn’t bother finding a plate or taking his meal to the