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men can.”
    As they reached the top of the stairs, Mary asked, “Do they?”
    “Wel , men like to talk about their jobs when they’re together. It gets boring listening to it after
    a while, especial y if they’re al in farming. I spent a good portion of my life on a farm, and if I
    never hear about crops or animals again, I’l be very happy.”
    “Then you didn’t marry a farmer?”
    “No. I married a deputy, though he was only pretending to be one at first. Do you remember
    anything about that time?”
    “No, I’m afraid I don’t.”
    “I’l have to tel you about it sometime.”
    They reached Rachel’s bedroom, so Mary entered it and placed her in the crib. The breeze
    coming in through the window would make it a pleasant nap. She turned to Jenny. “Has Emma
    taken a nap here before?”
    “Once. Right after she was born, I brought her out here.”
    “Where did she sleep?”
    Jenny pointed to the bassinet in the corner of the room. “Over there.” As Jenny set Emma
    down, she glanced at Mary. “It must be scary to wake up and not remember anything.”
    Wiping her hands on the skirt of her dress, Mary softly admitted, “It is.”
    Standing up, Jenny walked over to her and took her hands in hers. “I’m sorry you’re going
    through this. We’re good friends. Sal y’s your good friend, too. And though it’s overwhelming,
    I hope you know that you can trust Dave.”
    “Yes, I sense that about him.”
    “Joel said you might get your memory back. He said the doctor thinks being surrounded by
    friends and family wil help the process along.”
    “So far al I remember is a feeling.” Blushing, Mary decided not to specify that the feeling came
    when she was in Dave’s arms the night before. Such a thing seemed too private, and she didn’t
    know what she was used to talking to Jenny about. It seemed that even if they were close
    friends, she wouldn’t mention anything that pertained to the bedroom. Clearing her throat, Mary
    squeezed Jenny’s hands. “I think it’l take a while to get my memories back.”
    “Wel , just know Sal y and I are here for you.”
    “Thank you.”
    Releasing Mary’s hands, Jenny turned to the door, so Mary fol owed her. The two women
    went back down the stairs, and when they reached the parlor, Sal y was tel ing Carl that when
    he was older, he could go outside to help his uncle David in the fields.
    Mary decided now would be a good time to ask the question she’d had earlier but then forgot.
    “Why do you cal Dave ‘David’?”
    Sal y glanced up from where Carl was helping Laura walk. “Oh, I won a bet. I don’t care much
    for the name Dave.”
    Mary thought that was odd since he struck her more as a Dave than a David but chose to keep
    her opinion to herself. Instead, she looked at the two children and asked, “Would they like
    something to eat while they’re here?”
    Carl let go of Laura’s hands and ran over to her, not bothering to look back when Laura
    stumbled and fel on her bottom. “I want eat, Aunt Mary!”
    Sal y went over to her daughter and picked her up. “We don’t want to impose, Mary. You’ re
    going through a trying time.”
    “She’s right,” Jenny added. “We wanted to come over and see if we could do anything to help.”
    “I don’t mind,” Mary replied, noting the disappointment on Carl’s face. “Besides, I was about to
    do dishes, and I think I enjoy being in the kitchen.”
    With a wry grin, Sal y chuckled. “You do.” Giving a pointed look to Jenny, she added, “More
    than me and Jenny do. In fact, you’re something of a legend with how you’ve won each
    cooking contest every year since you married David.”
    “I am?” Mary asked, surprised to learn this part about herself. She knew she had fun making
    meals, but she had no idea she was good enough to win contests.
    Jenny laughed. “Poor Maureen Brown. She tries so hard to win, but you stole her spot.”
    “Oh, I’m sorry,” Mary replied.
    “Don’t be. Maureen