"Nae," said the man. "My boots are dirty. I stopped for a talk with you. Can we sit outside?"

She heard the men's heavy steps above her as they tromped to the bench and sat. Should she say something? Call out that she was there, like a voice from space?

No use in suffering the embarrassment of emerging from the depths and interrupting their conversation. Besides, how long could it take? Still lots of weeds. She would make good use of the time while stuck under the porch.

Where Marvin Yutzy loved to linger over a story until his listeners fell asleep, his dat got right to the point. "There is a new housing development planned on the east side of La Crosse. Construction starts in two weeks. We want you to be on our crew."

"Do you?" Fater said.

"It is close enough that we can come home every night."

Rebecca forgot to breathe as the thought of Fater at home every night pressed down on her.

She heard Fater stand and take a few steps away from Reuben. He spoke slowly. "I have a gute job in Milwaukee."

"This one in La Crosse is a gute job."

"My work is steady, and it pays better than what you can find in La Crosse. I supervise five men."

"But you are away from your home so much."

Fater shuffled farther from Reuben and leaned his elbows on the porch railing. Rebecca could see his expressionless face through the wooden slats. "Why should you concern yourself with the time I am away from home?"

"We are thinking of your family."

"Becky manages well."

"Marvin is worried about her. He says her burden is very great."

Marvin? Why did he care? Rebecca almost groaned out loud. She knew exactly why he cared.

"The bishop and the ministers have discussed it," Marvin's dat added.

"Have you?" Fater said.

"Can we send someone over to help on the farm? Every day or two? Or pay for some of the medical expenses so Rebecca does not need to work another job?"

Fater's voice rose, but he did not lose control of his temper. "The Millers do not need help. I am capable of taking care of my family."

"Of course you are."

Rebecca could sense Fater's agitation as he paced around the small porch. "'But if any provide not for his own, and specially for those of his own house, he hath denied the faith, and is worse than an infidel,'" he said. His favorite Scripture. He quoted it almost weekly.

Reuben stayed put on the bench but didn't back down. "No one would ever in a hundred years claim that you do not provide for your own, Amos. But you have special circumstances here. Your wife is ill. She cannot work or even walk most days. You must pay for medicine and doctors. The burden of upkeep of house and farm falls on your eldest daughter."

"She is able-"

"What will you do when she marries?"

A spider crawled across Rebecca's hand. She held perfectly still.

"She is only nineteen," Fater said.

"She is old enough."

"She would not want to leave her mother."

"I think she would not reject marriage to care for Erla," Reuben said. "And Erla would not ask that sacrifice of her. Would you?"

A heavy pause. "I will cross that bridge when I come to it," Fater said quietly.

Rebecca heard Reuben stand and move closer to Fater. "Will you accept help from your neighbors?"

"I have already told you, Reuben. I take care of my own family. Do not shame me by offering charity."

A hint of chastisement crept into Reuben's tone. "Perhaps you confuse shame with humility."

"The Lord humbles me by afflicting my wife. I am sufficiently humble. I will not be humiliated."

Rebecca listened to the crickets chirp as both men fell silent.

Finally, Reuben grunted and tromped down the steps. "We will see you at gmay Sunday?"

"Jah, Lord willing," Fater said.

"Good evening to you, then."

"Auch vider sehen, Reuben."

Reuben, with hat in hand, took three steps and turned back. "Think about what I have said. 'The Lord lifteth up the meek.'"

"Good evening, Reuben."

Reuben didn't have to be dismissed a third time. He donned his hat, hitched his thumbs around his suspenders, and ambled down the lane to his buggy. Fater lingered on the porch for a few minutes before resolutely turning and disappearing into the house.

Rebecca breathed a sigh of relief. She was ashamed to admit how grateful she was that Fater had a job in Milwaukee. Running the household by herself overwhelmed her some days, but truth be told, everyone was happier when Fater was away. He was right when he told Reuben that she could manage on her own. When Fater came home, he disrupted her routine and sent the siblings into fits. He yelled and demanded and carried on until they all wished he would stay away. Their life was hard, but it was easier without Fater's interference.

Rebecca never felt so wicked in her life as when she had such thoughts. She should love her fater, when all she could muster was tolerance. Oh, Father in heaven, she prayed, forgive me for my stiff neck and hard heart.

Fater had always been stern and of a serious disposition. But when his family was younger, he seemed content with his life and satisfied with his oldest daughter. Before Mamm fell ill, Rebecca was Fater's best helper. While she was still too young for grade school, she'd followed him all day long, carrying a tiny pail and a screwdriver. He called her "my little Becky" and let her help with his work. She gathered eggs for Mamm and carried lunch for Fater in her little bucket. Even after she entered school, Fater let her tag along in the afternoons while they helped each other with their chores. She longed for his approval, so she worked extra hard on the farm to earn it. Fater handed out praise sparingly, which only motivated Rebecca to try harder. Rebecca would have done anything to please her fater.

"'Be strong and of a good courage,'" he would tell her. "I depend on you."

Times had changed. Rebecca must have grown unlovable.

When she thought of Marvin Yutzy, her heart sank. Marvin might not have put his dat up to the visit, but Marvin's desires most certainly influenced his father's reasons. Poor, exasperating Marvin. With so many other worthy and available girls in the surrounding districts, how could he find anything attractive about Rebecca?

What would Levi think if he knew Rebecca had a young man interested in her? He would probably laugh or tease her about kissing Amish boys. She loved it when he laughed and she caught a glimpse of those dazzling white teeth.

Was it too soon after their date to send him a text?

Maybe not, but the chores would keep her from her phone past midnight. Levi would have to wait.

Chapter Seven.

Levi stirred the foam on the top of his beer with his finger and stared at the TV on the wall. Some baseball game he couldn't care less about flashed across the screen as the announcers droned on about batting averages and trade rumors. He ate another pretzel.

"It'll go flat if you let it sit too long," said the bartender as he stacked menus on the counter.

Levi nodded noncommittally. How long had he been sitting there? Ten minutes? Twenty?

Why had he come tonight? He wasn't really in the mood for a drinking party with friends and perfect strangers. Even in the midst of dozens of people at a bar, alcohol left him feeling utterly alone.

Someone slapped him on the back, and he turned to look.

"Levi, my man!"

"Hey, Jason. Hey, Dax."

His two friends pulled up stools on either side of him. Jason, who was built like an army tank, waved his arm to get the attention of the bartender. "You're not drinking?" he said.

Levi held up his full glass of beer.

"No," Jason said, "I mean drinking. By this time of night you're usually on your second or third margarita."

Levi leaned his elbows on the bar. "Just beer tonight."

Jason and Dax stared at each other for a long minute. Jason let whatever he was thinking die on his lips.

"Well, I hope you don't mind if I get totally wasted," Dax said. "It's been one of those days."

Jason ordered a margarita. Dax got a scotch straight up and downed it in five swallows. "Tara texted me," he said, pausing to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. "She's coming over."

"Here?" Levi said.

"Yeah," Dax said. "She wants to see you."

Levi groaned. "You told her I was going to be here?"

"Chill out, Cooper. She wants to be friends."

Levi lifted his glass to his lips then set it down again. "No, she doesn't."

Dax ordered another drink. "What's wrong with that? For the life of me, I can't figure out why you dumped her."

Frowning, Levi wrapped his hands around his glass and pretended to study the television. "It's not her. It's me."

Jason rolled his eyes. "I've never heard that one before."

Levi didn't want to have to justify himself, but he did anyway. "You know that nice new truck Eddie Manville bought?"

Jason nodded.

"Guess who I found making out in the back?"

"Tara and that cowboy?"

Dax hooted with glee.

"So what?" Jason said. "That's just Tara."

Funny, that's exactly what Levi had told Beth.

I'm done with cornflake girls.

Levi glanced at Jason out of the corner of his eyes. He had about ten more minutes of coherent conversation left before both friends were useless. "Why didn't we date any good girls in high school?" he muttered.

Jason laughed out loud. "Because they weren't any fun."

Shaking his head, Dax grinned. "They never would have dated us."

"You're right," Levi said, suddenly glad Rebecca hadn't known him in high school. "The good girls wouldn't have been caught dead associating with us."

"Who wants 'em, when you've got girls like Tara?" Jason said.

"Maybe you could actually have a meaningful relationship with a good girl."

Jason grabbed Levi's arm. "What's gotten into you, man?"

"Nothing. Just thinking."

"Well, quit thinking and start drinking."

Jason and Dax roared with laughter until Jason started into a coughing fit and Dax stood up and pounded him on the back.

Meaningful communication was at an end. Levi surrendered his place at the bar and wandered to the pool table, where a guy was teaching a girl how to hold the cue.

I'll bet Rebecca would like to learn how to play.

Levi shook his head. That girl popped into his mind at the most random moments.