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    Lena blinked. It was a harsh thought, but it was true. She felt happier here among these busy women than she’d been in months. She scrubbed the large potatoes with renewed energy, knowing her efforts were appreciated. What a difference that made!
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    Josiah spotted the stone slab with HIGHER GROUND carved in large letters and slowed Dolly’s pace. Although the sign reminded him of fancy gravestones he’d seen in English cemeteries, it made an impressive statement.
    As his mare drew him slowly into town, they passed a bank, a diner, and a few other shops—built of brick and all in a row, rather than situated on the owners’ properties—with a concrete sidewalk in front of them. “They’ve got power poles for electricity, so this can’t be an Amish colony. What do you think of that, Dolly?” Josiah murmured.
    His horse tossed her head as they passed parked cars as well as horse-drawn buggies tied to hitching rails. Outside the white schoolhouse, kids were playing tag in their coats, hats, and bonnets. Josiah sensed a progressive optimism in the people on the street and as he gazed up the snow-covered hillside at the new houses built in rows. The plots of ground were much smaller than the usual acreage a Plain family owned, yet it made sense: men who didn’t farm for a living didn’t need a lot of land. Instinct told him that the large house perched on the top of the hill belonged to Hiram Knepp—but he didn’t drive up there to introduce himself.
    Instead, Josiah hitched Dolly to the post at the bank building and strolled to the diner. It seemed like a good idea to order something and observe how the place was run. After a Mennonite waitress in a polka-dot dress brought his cherry pie and coffee, Josiah studied the red vinyl booths and the black-and-white checkerboard floor. A jukebox filled the place with the twang of country music and the waitresses walked in time to the catchy beat—something he’d never seen in a Plain town.
    Josiah sighed. His coffee was lukewarm and his sister put a lot more cherries in her pie. He left a five-dollar bill and went outside again.
    Over the phone, Hiram had raved about how his supper club would have uniformed waiters serving upscale food on tables draped in white tablecloths with linen napkins, but Josiah knew better than to compare Hiram’s new place to this diner—or to the community halls and park pavilions where he and Savilla usually catered.
    His pulse thrummed as he thought about bringing his cookers to Higher Ground, where everything looked brand new and well organized. One of the houses had a FOR RENT sign in the window, and he knew Lena and Savilla would be excited about living so close to where they could do their shopping. No one could say he wasn’t taking good care of Lena if he moved her into such a place and began working for Hiram Knepp.
    That evening, however, as Josiah ate supper with Ben, Miriam, and Rebecca, Lena shot him down before he’d even finished describing Higher Ground.
    â€œI’m staying in Willow Ridge,” she informed him. “From everything these folks have told me about Hiram Knepp, he’s trouble—and I don’t need any more trouble in my life.”
    Josiah’s face went hot. “How can you decide that without even going there?” he demanded. “Higher Ground’s a progressive town—and I found a brand-new house that’s for rent. You’re expecting me to give you and the baby a home, yet now that I have an opportunity to provide for you, you’re refusing to—”
    â€œWhat did the supper club look like?” Miriam interrupted with a curious smile. “How does it compare to the Sweet Seasons, as far as how many folks it’ll seat?”
    â€œDid it match what Hiram told ya over the phone?” Ben asked. “Sounds like a great place for ya to cook, if it measures up to what ya were