the skillet.”
While the two discussed the various features of the frying pan, Rebecca sidestepped toward Emma and spoke in a whisper. “You think he’s handsome, don’t you? Mr. Carson, I mean.” She cast a look toward the door with a grin.
Emma drew herself up. “Of course not. He’s Englisch.”
“Englischers can be handsome too.” She hooked the basket handle over one arm and covered a giggle with her free hand. “That one who rode away with him yesterday was most delightful to look upon. I wonder if he’s married.”
“You shouldn’t say such things, Rebecca.” Emma pitched her voice low and adopted a stern tone. “You shouldn’t even think them. Only think such things about Amish boys.”
Maummi turned her head to spear them with a look and then resumed her conversation with the shopkeeper. Emma sauntered over to the crates stacked on the floor and picked up a tin of peaches. A dent creased one side.
Rebecca followed, her basket clutched in front of her apron. “I’ll bet neither of them are married. I’ve heard those cattle drives take the cowboys away from home for months and months. They would miss their families too much if they had them, so ’tis better not to marry until they are finished with life on the trail.”
Emma was impressed in spite of herself. “Where did you learn that?”
Rebecca shrugged. “I heard Jakob Miller talking to Aaron Zook after church one Sunday.”
Of course twelve-year-old boys would be full of thoughts of cowboys and cattle drives. And thirteen-year-old girls would be full of thoughts of marriage. Emma put the tin back in the crate and selected one without a dent. “I’m sure many cowboys are married.”
Her sister swung the basket from her arm. “I don’t think Mr. Carson is. Otherwise he wouldn’t look at you the way he does.”
Heat crept up Emma’s neck and into her face. Yes, she’d seen the way his gaze strayed toward her. Seen and enjoyed it too, even though enjoying the attentions of an Englischer felt slightly naughty. If Rebecca had noticed, then of course Maummi had. No wonder she hadn’t allowed them to go along with the men to the livery stable.
Emma replaced that can as well and moved toward a stack of tightly wrapped packages, with labels identifying them as dried apples. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Rebecca heaved a forlorn sigh. “Well, I wish his friend had noticed me like that.”
“Rebecca!” She regarded her sister with a shocked stare. Dreams of marriage were one thing, but to voice such a wish about an Englisch man? One of Maummi’s proverbs leaped to mind, and she delivered it in a stern tone. “‘Think only pure thoughts, and purity will guide your life.’”
Rebecca’s eyes rolled toward the ceiling, and she moved away from Emma’s side.
Only pure thoughts? Emma glanced through the doorway in the direction of the blacksmith shop, where Luke Carson and Papa stood bargaining.
If enjoying the attentions of a handsome Englisch man wasn’t pure thinking, perhaps she should heed her own advice.
“Nah, I don’t have any oxen for sale here.” The blacksmith, a huge man with thighs nearly as big around as Bo’s neck, tossed his hammer into the loose sawdust that covered the floor. “I have one mule, but he ain’t for sale.”
Luke tried to keep an I-told-you-so look off his face, but he wasn’t sure he succeeded. He felt bad when he watched Jonas’s confident expression fade to one of dismay. Kind of a shame to see a man disappointed in his beliefs like that.
The smith dusted calloused hands on the thick apron tied around his middle. “But old Weaver has a team of oxen he’s been talking about selling.”
Luke felt his jaw go slack.
An oversized grin spread across Jonas’s face. “The Lord provides for all our needs.”
Had he just been fed a dish of roasted crow by an Amish man? Or did defeat come from a higher source? With a suspicious upward glance, Luke asked the smith, “Where can we find Weaver?”
“His place isn’t far. About two miles south of here.”
From the look on Jonas’s face, Luke knew his next request without being asked. Would he go with Jonas to Weaver’s place? The words were on his tongue to say sorry, but no. He couldn’t keep the herd waiting any longer. Besides, Jesse would rib him for days.
But Jonas’s faith was a lot stronger than his. What if the Lord did want him to help the Switzers, as they said? Who was he to turn away from that?