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grudge get passed down to the next generation.”
    She seemed genuinely sad.
    â€œJah,” I said. “It’s a sorry predicament.”
    She nodded, a wary expression I hadn’t seen before settling on her face.
    I lowered my voice even more. “So what is this grudge all about anyway?”
    Aenti glanced toward Mutter, a worried look on her face, and whispered, “I’ll tell you later.”
    I nodded and said, in a regular voice, hoping to cheer her, “I saw Molly.”
    â€œOh.” Aenti Nell brightened. “Any news?”
    â€œNothing you don’t already know.”
    My Aenti smiled.
    â€œYou should see Molly’s rosemary though. It’s the best I’ve ever seen. She sold out of nearly everything except for her parsley and sage. I meant to bring some home.” We grew herbs but they weren’t nearly as robust as Molly’s. “Hannah had sold almost all of her jars of jam when I left.”
    I gathered the pots and pans I needed for the sauce and pasta as I talked. Daed wasn’t fond of spaghetti and salad—he said it barely filled him up—but it was the best I could do on such short notice.
    Joe-Joe came up the basement stairs with the tomatoes, one jar at a time, and then the onion, making a special trip just for it. I asked Aenti Nell to chop it. She took the remaining potholders into the sewing room and then returned to help me.
    I handed Joe-Joe the garden basket, and he headed outside. I started the sauce and told Aenti Nell about the food at the market and then put the water on to boil for the spaghetti. Next I set the table around Mutter as I told Aenti Nell about the jam Hannah had made.
    I stopped at the sound of heavy footsteps on the back steps. The men, I presumed, were early.
    The door swung open, and Billy stepped through first, a grin on his face. Behind him was Phillip Eicher.
    Mutter perked up at the sight of him. She started to stand, but he quickly told her there was no need.
    â€œWon’t you stay for supper?” she gushed.
    I stood statue still, watching Phillip. He’d changed into a clean white shirt and pants. And shoes instead of boots. He held his straw hat in his hands, and his bangs fell in a perfect line across his forehead.
    â€œDenki,” Phillip answered, looking at me. “I’m happy to stay, but I’ll go out and help finish up the milking.” Mollyand Hannah were right—he was a good catch. I could do much worse.
    â€œOh, stay here,” Mutter replied. “Cap has plenty of hands out there.” Then she paused and added, “Unless you want to speak with him about something.”
    Phillip smiled. “When he has the time.”
    My face grew warm. Usually, in our community, the young man didn’t speak with the girl’s father before he’d spoken with her. Perhaps he planned to speak to me tonight.
    I spun back toward the sink. The odd sensation lodged below my heart and pushed upward.
    I turned my attention back to dinner. Now that we had company, I would need to come up with a dessert, but I didn’t have time to make anything before we ate. I decided to pilfer a plate of cookies from the dozens I’d made for tomorrow.
    Phillip sat down on the other side of the table, where he could watch me. “I drove by the farm on the way here.” He hooked his thumbs around his suspenders. “The sunflowers along the fence are already as big as dinner plates. And the corn is up to my shoulders, I’m sure. . . .” He hadn’t been much of a talker before, but that seemed to have changed.
    Now it seemed as if he couldn’t stop.

    It was the first time Phillip had ever stayed for dinner. He was the youngest of ten, so although meals with his family used to be a big event, for the last few years it had just been him and his parents. I couldn’t imagine his mother, even when her table was full, putting up with any nonsense from her