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another glance at the baby carrier. At least the youngster wasn’t kicking up his usual fuss.
    Thirty minutes later he found his aunt still in the kitchen, packing baby bottles into a tote bag. A second cloth bag stated the obvious in large red letters: Diaper Bag. Iris was dressed from head to toe in mourning clothes, from her heavy black bonnet down to her black, lace-up shoes. Her dress reached her ankles, and a black shawl hung over the crook of her arm.
    “It hasn’t been cool at night for weeks,” he said. “You probably won’t need your wrap.”
    Her face looked pale and wan as she glanced up. “You never know, and this way I’ll have it with me. Would you come back inside to carry Abraham after you get the buggy hitched?” She set the roaster of chicken and dumplings into Nathan’s largest hamper.
    “Of course,” he murmured, tugging his black wide-brimmed hat down over his ears. Yet he couldn’t help thinking that if he carried the heavy hamper and bags, she could manage a seven-pound tyke in a plastic carrier. He found himself tense with irritation while he hitched up the gelding. If he’d gotten to know some of his English neighbors, maybe one would have been willing to babysit and he wouldn’t have to take Abraham to such a solemn occasion. How respectful would it be to Ruth’s memory if sounds of wailing drowned out the bishop’s Scripture readings?
    Nathan turned his face skyward as he emerged from the barn driving the buggy. The intense color of the crystalline blue almost hurt his eyes. Not a cloud marred the perfection of the June day. Ruth had loved hanging laundry on sunny, breezy days, claiming that clothes dried in half the time without the humidity. But considering what lay ahead, it could have rained without cessation as far as he was concerned.
    When he pulled open the back door, Iris pressed the handle of the baby carrier into his hand. “Let’s be off then.” She slung a tote bag over each shoulder and then lifted the hamper of food.
    “Aunt Iris, let me carry that,” he said. “It looks too heavy—”
    “No.” Her curt reply cut short any argument. “You haven’t checked on your son since he came home from the hospital.” She carried her burdens very gingerly down the steps while he closed the door behind them.
    “The cradle is in the guest room. I don’t want to invade your privacy by walking into your room.”
    “Nothing keeps you from going in while I’m fixing dinner at the stove.” She glared at him over her shoulder.
    “I suppose not, but I’ve been busy since we came home. Animals don’t feed themselves. And my neighbors may have cut the hay, but it still needed to be raked. Now I must bale and get it stored in the barn before the next rain.”
    They reached the gate where the horse and buggy had been tied to the post. Nathan placed the baby carrier on the seat and then offered Iris a hand to step up.
    She set the hamper and bags down in the driveway and crossed her arms. Her feet looked to be so well planted, Nathan was sure she wouldn’t have blown away in gale force winds. “Hold on a minute, nephew. I want you to pull back that blanket and take a good look at your son.”
    Nathan crossed his arms too. “I’ve seen him, Aunt Iris. I sat with him on the ride to the hospital and held his carrier on the way back. You’re being plum silly when we need to get to the cemetery.”
    “Then I suggest you stop wasting time and do as I ask, because we’re not leaving until you do.” When she lifted her chin, he noticed a dimple he’d never spotted before.
    Nathan rolled his eyes. He knew he had no choice but to do her bidding. He owed her respect above all else. Had it not been for her, he didn’t know what he would have done. He leaned over the seat and drew back the blanket. A quizzical pair of dark eyes peered up at him from a round pink face. The splotches evident on the day he was born had faded. One little fist kept opening and closing as though