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future?”
    “On occasion. But she does all she can to suppress it or run from it, so most often she can’t even read a person who’s making this face—” He raised his eyebrows high and mimicked terror. “Or this—” He twisted his brows until he appeared furious.
    Leah giggled.
    His features grew serious, thoughtful. “I worry about her. She’s like an innocent in so many ways.”
    Leah caught a glimpse through the shrubbery of someone coming toward the summer kitchen. Probably an uncle who had decided to ignore Samuel’s request that all visitors steer clear of the summer kitchen. “I heard her and Samuel arguing a couple of days ago, so I guess whatever innocent means to you, it doesn’t include suffering in silence.”
    “Oh, she has opinions, and she shares them whether you want to hear them or not.” He smiled. “The two of you have that in common, right?”
    Leah nodded, a little surprised he knew that about her, but after a second thought, it did make sense. They had logged a lot of hours working together since Rhoda had joined Kings’ Orchard.
    Landon lifted his cap and scratched his head. “But both Jacob and Samuel seem to have aspects that she needs, including this opportunity to move to Maine for a fresh start.”
    Arlan came around the corner just then, pushing a dolly stacked with boxes. He walked it up the ramp. “Just call me a patsy.”
    Leah gazed up at him. “Come again?”
    “I’m in the kitchen working while you two sit around gabbing. That makes me a patsy, I guess.”
    She patted the floor beside her. “Have a seat, Patsy.”
    Landon took off his hat and waved it in the air. “This is a politically incorrect conversation. Just think of all the people named Patsy.”
    “I only know of one”—Leah waggled her thumb toward Arlan—“and he’s it.”
    They laughed.
    Arlan leaned into her shoulder. “I’m going to miss you, Leah.”
    She ached at the thought of leaving him behind. “Do not try that mushy, sentimental stuff with me, Arlan Troyer.” Her eyes prickled with tears, and she ducked her head and climbed out of the truck before either man could see them. “Kumm. We’ve got work to do.”
    Before they could budge, the person coming toward the kitchen was now at the bend in the path. She peered past the privet hedge. Her heart lurched.
    Michael.
    Had he finally come to see her?

FOUR
    Samuel ran a towel over the horse, drying her. Why had he ever thought he could work with Rhoda Byler? Why hadn’t he turned and run the day he met her?
    And yet …
    Even as those angry thoughts ran through him, he knew his anger wasn’t honest. He was glad he knew her. But did a more willful woman exist?
    He doubted it.
    Boisterous laughter made him look toward the house. Numerous carriages were parked in the driveway. He’d seen that on his way to the barn. His district had come to show support and give practical, valuable gifts to him and the others as they established a new Amish community. He should mingle, shake hands, and thank them.
    No. He’d better not. With the argument between Rhoda and him still careening through his thoughts, his best course for everyone’s sake was to steer clear of people. Whatever message his Daed had for him, Samuel would find it next to the phone in the barn office, or his Daed would come looking for him.
    Samuel had sent that letter about the vandalism to Rueben’s and Rhoda’s church leaders in August. August! So why had the ministers waited until the day before they were to leave for Maine to call a meeting? It didn’t make sense. If they had let him know they intended to follow through on the charges, he’d have lined up some evidence to support his claim. Maybe.
    He tossed the towel over a wooden gate. When Jacob had arrived during the argument, he’d looked at Samuel as if the fight with Rhoda was his fault. Why? Because Samuel had finally raised his voice to her? His low-key,get-along-with-everyone brother would probably have a few