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mused as she took her place beside Abby on the eck.
I want nothing less for myself.
    Once the helpers had served the wedding party, the other guests made their way through the buffet line. As Emma began to eat the delicious chicken and stuffing, creamed celery, and otherdelectable dishes, she realized just how ravenous she’d become during the long morning’s activities. “The ladies outdid themselves on this meal,” she remarked to Abby.
    â€œJah, they did. And to think they accomplished everything without
me
!”
    Emma laughed with her best friend and squeezed her hand. “I wish you and James all the happiness your hearts can hold.”
    Abby flashed her a radiant smile. “And I wish you the same, Emma. Every woman should be as delighted as I feel right now, knowing God has given her exactly the right husband to share her life.”
    Tears sprang to Emma’s eyes, but they were tears of happiness for Abby . . . weren’t they? Or was she once again despairing of ever finding a man to love her the way James adored Abby?
    Emma sighed. Jerome was sitting at her other side, eating in silence. Even though his earlier remarks had made her uncomfortable, he hadn’t been unkind—and maybe, after two unsuccessful engagements, he, too, was wondering if he’d ever find the right person to love. Emma was trying to think of a way to engage him in conversation again, when Rudy Ropp, who owned the dairy farm down the hill, stepped up to the eck.
    â€œSay there, Jerome, that was quite the picture of your eight-mule hitch in the latest issue of the
Connection
,” he remarked. “Looks like you trained a team of prizewinners.”
    Jerome’s smile lit up his whole face. “Jah, when the mules’ owner sent me that photo, Jemima insisted on sending it to the magazine. Seems that mule team’s already won a couple of competitions. Come January, they’ll go on to the
big
shows at the National Western in Denver.”
    Titus Yutzy and Mervin Mast came up to the eck then, to add their comments. “I recall the day you were strutting that team’s stuff, hauling a wagonload of folks down the county road,” Titus said.
    â€œJah, it was as fine a parade as I’ve ever seen, even if it was just your one wagon,” Mervin joined in. “I rushed outside to see what was making that
thunder
down the road, and there came your team, with every mule stepping in cadence—like you’d trained them to march to music!”
    Emma took a bite of her pumpkin pie. She remembered that day because she had been riding in that fancy wagon as Jerome drove those mules. And it
had
been an awesome experience—
and Jerome had to trick you into coming, coaxing Mamm to ride so you’d be the only one left at home if you didn’t join them.
    She blinked. Maybe she really did need to get out more . . . but right now, keeping busy seemed the best way to dodge her confused thoughts.
    Although as a member of the wedding party Emma was entitled to enjoy an afternoon of visiting rather than helping during the meal, she stood up to scrape plates. “I’m doing this so
you
won’t, Abby,” she informed the bride. “I hope James will keep you so occupied visiting your guests that you don’t wash a single dish or fetch so much as a cookie for anybody today.”
    As Abby laughed, James slipped his arm around her shoulders. “That’s my plan, Emma. We’ll resume our responsibilities tomorrow, come time to clean up. I figure on enjoying our big day now that the serious part is over.”
    Emma agreed wholeheartedly, just as she found particular fulfillment in making herself useful. Because the Graber and Lambright families were hosting so many guests from all over the Midwest today, a second shift would eat the meal after this bunch of folks had finished their pie—and that meant a lot of dishes to be gathered up and