Marvin didn't feel the need to open the door for Rebecca a second time. With her shoulders slumped, she trudged to the house, ignoring her brothers and drawing up a mental list of things that must be done before bedtime.

Peeling off her bonnet, she tiptoed down the hall to the room she shared with Linda and peeked inside. Linda was not in her usual place, sprawled on the bed looking at magazines or filing her nails. Rebecca hastily entered the room. With the door bolted behind her, she walked to the window, where she pried the windowsill loose and laid her money in the space beneath. She shuffled through her cash to make sure nothing was missing then repositioned the board to appear as if it hadn't budged since the house was built.

The profound silence shattered when someone pounded on the door. Rebecca jumped out of her skin.

"Hey, why is the door locked?"

Rebecca hurried to the door and slid the bolt from the fastener. Linda burst into the room and launched herself onto the small double bed with a dramatic groan.

"Mamm needs you," she said, fluffing a pillow and preparing to make herself comfortable.

"Has she been asking for me?"

"Nae, but I can tell when she is tired of me." Linda repositioned a pin in her kapp. "I do not have the patience to be a nurse. It's so boring, watching after a sick person all day long. I need to use my brain. Hannah said I was one of the top in the class in eighth grade."

"How did Mamm do today?"

"I don't know. Like she always does, I guess."

"Did she get up?" Rebecca said.

"After breakfast she walked outside to tell the boys to weed the garden, which they did for about three minutes before running off."

"I did not see any clothes on the line."

Linda rolled onto her side and propped up her cheek with her hand. "I did not have time to start the wash."

Rebecca sighed in exasperation. Getting her sister to do anything but the bare minimum was like expecting Marvin Yutzy to develop a personality. "Linda, the wash is the one and only thing I asked you to do today."

Linda stuck out her bottom lip. "I read to Mamm, practically the whole morning, and I made her a sandwich. I fed the boys too."

Rebecca wanted to stomp around the room and scream at the top of her lungs, but what good would it do? It would only upset Mamm. Linda and those two troublemakers wrestling on the front lawn were plain lazy-as lazy as the day was long. And with an absent father and an ill mother, Rebecca had all the work and none of the authority. She couldn't make her siblings do anything, and when she tried, she got so angry she thought her head might explode like one of those zombies. So she soldiered on, doing her best to run the household without much help from anyone, keeping her emotions buried deep so Fater would not find fault with her-and so she would not crack into a million pieces.

But even as the rage swirled inside her, she tried to quell it, to ignore it, and, if possible, to refuse to give it power. Rebecca had no desire to play the martyr. She could rail against her lot in life and be completely miserable or accept reality and make the best of it. She tried-oh, how she tried-to cheerfully make the best of it, but some days the weight of her responsibilities overpowered her resolve.

Rebecca couldn't think of anything nice to say to her sister. Not even an insincere "Thank you" escaped her lips. She tromped into the kitchen, pulled the flour and some spices from the cupboard, and began mixing a coating for the chicken. Heating an inch of oil in a frying pan, she smeared the chicken legs with egg and coating mix and arranged them in the hot skillet. Then she made her way down the hall to Mamm's room. She had five minutes to spare before she needed to turn the chicken.

Her mamm, fully clothed except for her shoes, lay on her side on top of the intricately appliqued quilt on her bed. Her eyes were closed, but Rebecca could tell that she was not asleep.

"How is the pain today, Mamm?"

Mamm opened her eyes. "I've had worse."

Rebecca shook her head. Mamm only said that on especially bad days. "Knees and hands?"

Mamm gingerly rolled onto her back and winced. "Ach, heartzly, everything is worse today." She held out her arms. "Cum, give me a hug. I hate it when you are away from home."

"Jah, I should be here to take care of you."

Mamm patted Rebecca lightly on the cheek. "I am sorry you bear this burden of nursing your invalid mother."

"It is no burden, Mamm."

"I like you here where it is safe. I worry when I send my babies out into the world."

Instinctively, Rebecca placed her hand on her elbow. No one but Levi Cooper knew about the three-inch gash hidden under her long sleeve. Well, Levi and the unsympathetic nurse who'd administered the tetanus shot. If Mamm found out, she'd have Rebecca on three different antibiotics before bedtime and probably take a turn for the worse herself. Being upset only made Mamm sicker.

"You look as if you have a headache," Mamm said. "Take some gingko. There's a bottle in the bathroom."

"No headache, Mamm. I feel fine."

"The feverfew helps, just in case you are coming down with a headache. Better safe than sorry."

"I must turn the chicken," Rebecca said, slipping from her mother's arms. "I'll bring in some supper and rub your legs."

Putting her hand to her heart, Mamm sank into her pillow. "I told Linda to put the chicken on. But she had a headache and said the ibuprofen didn't help." Mamm frowned. "If tomorrow I could rise from this bed for good, I would see to Linda right quick."

"Don't worry, Mamm. You mustn't upset yourself. I am fine to cook the chicken. Linda would only burn it."

"That's my gute girl. I feel better when you are home to take care of us."

Rebecca turned from her mother and felt the familiar tightness in her chest. They depended on her so desperately. She mustn't fail in her duty.

The guilt pressed on her chest until she found it hard to breathe. She marched down the hall into her room and retrieved her cell phone from her top drawer. Her thumbs hunted awkwardly for the right buttons. She was still very slow at texting.

Levi, I am sorry. I will not be able to see you on Friday. Let's forget the whole thing.

Her place was here, at home, with no time to waste on Englisch nonsense. But before she pushed Send, she hesitated and put her hand on her pocket, where Dottie Mae's list rested. She fingered the paper and in her mind saw Dottie Mae's chunky handwriting on the page.

Wasn't she willing to sacrifice for her best friend?

Jah, anything.

She took a deep breath to clear her conscience and pressed the Delete button instead.

Anything for Dottie Mae.

Chapter Five.

"Smile, Rebecca. Your horse can smell fear," Levi said.

Rebecca didn't take her eyes off the back of the horse's head. "Is that what that smell is? I thought it was the perfume you are wearing."

"Guys don't wear perfume, kid. It's called cologne."

"Oh, sorry to offend you, laddie."

Levi laughed and shook his head. "I know you hope to irritate me with that nickname, but I rather like it. It makes me feel like some manly Scot warrior in a kilt."

Rebecca glanced at Levi. "I will have to give more thought to finding you an annoying nickname. Nothing I've tried so far seems to be just right."

"Kid seems to do the trick for you," Levi said. "But is there a nickname you like? I hate to keep offending you. How about Fred? Fred is kind of cute."

"You want to be seen with a girl named Fred?"

"I like Bec. You like that?"

She shrugged. "It's okay."

"Becky?"

Rebecca's face clouded over. The expression was even more concerning than the sheer panic from a few moments ago. "Don't ever call me that."

Her reaction spoke for itself. This went beyond discussion, beyond joking. Levi knew without asking that if he ever called her Becky, she'd ride off into the sunset and he'd never see her again.

Jack Pittford, the owner of the two horses, finished tightening the cinch on Rebecca's saddle. "Okay, Levi, you're all set. Rebecca's horse is real gentle. Shouldn't give you any trouble."

"Thanks, Mr. Pittford," Levi said. "We'll have them back by four."

"No hurry. I know you'll take good care of 'em. There's plenty of places to water them along the way if you stick to the trail." Mr. Pittford patted Levi's horse on the neck. "Come by the house after, if you want. Millie would love to see you."

Levi thanked Mr. Pittford a second time and checked that the reins were even. He loved riding horses. It always brought back memories of helping his dat hook up the buggy for gmay.

He would have given Rebecca a reassuring wink, but she had her eyes glued to the spot exactly three inches below the horse's right ear. Her hands gripped the saddle horn so tightly, her knuckles were white. She wore the same jeans and yellow T-shirt from their first date, and she looked even prettier than before, even with that look on her face.

"You remember what to do?" he asked.

She nodded slightly as if any unexpected movement might catapult her off her mount. Was she even breathing?

"It's going to be okay," he said. "Loosen your pull on the reins and give the horse a gentle nudge in the flanks with your heels. That's right."

Rebecca let out a muffled squeak when her horse actually moved, but she didn't panic. After the horse took four or five steps forward, Levi saw Rebecca take a breath. Good. She might not hyperventilate after all.

"See," he said, "nothing to be afraid of."

"Did I say I was afraid?"

"No, absolutely not. That thought never even crossed my mind. I mean, Amish girls are around horses so much, they probably understand their language."

Levi heard Rebecca breath again. Twice in the last minute. This was progress.

"A lot of Amish ride horses. I just never got the chance. Mamm thinks it's too dangerous." A sigh unconsciously escaped her lips. "Did you have to pay Mr. Pittford to use the horses?"

"Nah, I help him in the stable once in a while, so he doesn't mind."

"He likes you very much."

Levi chuckled. "He wants me to marry his daughter."

"He does? Is she your girlfriend?"

"We hung out a couple times in high school. I got to know her dad because we went riding sometimes."

"Do you want to marry her?" Rebecca said, more interested in staying on her horse than in anything Levi might say.

Grimacing, Levi spurred his horse even with Rebecca's. "Why would I want to do that? She's pretty but not real smart." He thought about his entire high school and post-high school dating experiences. That description fit just about every girl he had dated, including Tara.

"So you prefer smarts over beauty?" she said.

Levi glanced at Rebecca. Considering she was only giving him half her attention, her question seemed like the beginning of a deep conversation, and he was tempted to make a joke. He wasn't particularly eager to share his girl experiences with Rebecca. She'd think badly of him.

Why should he care if she did?

Despite his inclination to make light of her question, he cleared his throat and said, "Cornflake girls."

"What?"

"That's what I call them. Pretty on the outside but with cornflakes for brains."

He wanted to laugh at her expression. The tight-laced Amish girl thought he was strange.

"So Mr. Pittford's daughter is a cornflake girl?"

"Pretty much."

Rebecca pried her gaze from the trail and looked at him with those eyes that reflected so many different colors at once. "You have dated many cornflake girls, like as not? I suppose the Englisch girls claw out each other's eyes to get to you."

"Claw out their eyes?" Levi sputtered then laughed. "That has never happened."

"But they like you."

He cocked his head to one side. "Sure they do. What's not to like?"

Rebecca rolled her eyes while still clutching the reins like her horse might bolt at any minute. "Pretty is as pretty does."

Levi's heart sank. How could she make him feel like his good looks were a liability? "It's true," he said. "Beauty will only get you so far."

Rebecca furrowed her brow and nodded. "My mamm is pretty."

Why did he suddenly feel so concerned about that look on her face? He wanted to put his arms around her and tell her it was going to be okay-whatever it was.