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Matthew’s son and daughter were growing up fast, and Julia wasn’t there to witness the precious milestones. But Martha’s cheery tone soon faded as she talked about a change in Matthew’s career. As Julia read the words, she also picked up the unspoken words between the lines: Martha wasn’t happy about Matthew’s new job, although she didn’t come out and say so. How Julia wished they lived closer, so that she could see her grandchildren more often and offer a word of advice over a cup of coffee. Letters passed between many hands weren’t suitable methods of communication when family members needed help.
    Julia hobbled into the house as quickly as her stiff legs would carry her. She found Simon at the table, studying a list of farm commodity prices. “Oh, good, you’re here.” She tossed the other mail on the counter and turned on the burner beneath the coffeepot.
    “Where else would I be? It’s lunchtime and I’m starving. Is there any of that bean soup left?”
    “
Jah
,
jah
, give me a minute to reheat it. Try not to faint in the meantime.” Julia took the soup pot from the refrigerator, set it on the stove and turned the dial to warm it up, and then sat down opposite him. “We got a letter today from Matthew and Martha.”
    Simon glanced up with mild interest, waiting for the news. “And?”
    “Something is not right there. Our son took a different job. He no longer trains horses at that racetrack. He was offered a trainer position at some big fancy saddlebred stable. According to Martha, those are expensive show horses for rich people.” Her description dripped with ill-concealed disdain.
    “
Jah
, that’s
gut
.” Simon surreptitiously glanced back at the current prices for corn and soybeans.
    “No, not
gut
at all. They were living with their fellow Amish in a town close to the track. He either rode his horse to work or was picked up by an English employee. They would have been able to raise their
kinner
in an Old Order community similar to this one.” She waved her hand in the direction of the backyard. “Matthew’s new job is a great distance away. He stays in a bunkhouse for hired help and only comes home on the weekends. Martha is alone night after night, and I know she’s not happy about it.”
    Simon peered at her over his half-moon reading glasses. “Did she say that?”
    “No, no, she wouldn’t, not to her husband’s
mamm
, but I could tell.”
    He reflected for a moment. “Sometimes a man must make hard decisions about what’s best for his family. I’m sure if a job opens up closer to home, he’ll jump on it. You know what a homebody he is.”
    She opened her mouth, but Simon stopped her with a raised palm. “In the meantime, Julia, don’t start hearing voices that aren’t there. Every young couple goes through an adjustment period.” He lifted his newspaper in front of his face. “Those two will be fine as long as meddling relatives keep their nebby noses out of their personal business.”
    She crossed her arms and clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth but didn’t argue. She knew she had a nebby nose, but she also possessed a mother’s well-honed intuition.
    She hoped she was wrong about this particular hunch.

T HREE
    O n the last Monday of May, Phoebe stood waiting in front of Java Joe’s coffee shop in downtown Berlin with Rebekah Glick. She’d never felt like this before—she was light-headed, her stomach was queasy, and she couldn’t seem to get enough air into her lungs. A doctor might diagnose car sickness, but the much-anticipated bus trip hadn’t begun yet. The buggy ride before dawn with her dad had been nerve-racking. Seth had not said much—unless you counted “Stay with the group.” “Don’t wander off with
Englischer
s.” “Don’t get too close to the rail during the boat ride or too close to the Niagara River,” at least a dozen times each. Other than that, he had merely grunted and chewed on a wad of gum. If she’d needed