Free On Her Own by Wanda E. Brunstetter

and some of the other ladies would be glad to give you a hand.”
    Barbara couldn’t argue with the fact that her yard looked a mess. Since David had died and her responsibilities had increased, the lawn and flower beds had been dreadfully neglected. Dad wasn’t able to keep up with yard work and help in the harness shop, too, so the lawn only got cut when he felt up to it and had the time. Mom had a weak back, which meant Barbara couldn’t count on her help with yard work, either.
    “I must admit, it is difficult to keep up with everything around here,” she mumbled, feeling a knot form in her stomach. “If some of the ladies want to help, I’d appreciate it.”
    “I’ll see that it’s done real soon.” John leaned against the railing opposite the quilt, apparently in no hurry to leave. “I was wondering if you and your boys would like to go on a picnic with me and the girls Saturday afternoon.”
    The knot in Barbara’s stomach tightened, and she gritted her teeth as she concentrated on the patterns of light dappling the porch floor. “I. . .uh. . .appreciate the offer, but I don’t think the boppli’s ready for that kind of outing.”
    “Couldn’t you leave him with your mamm?”
    Barbara’s face grew warm. She could hardly remind the bishop that she had to stay close to Davey because she was nursing.
    As if by divine intervention, the little guy started to fuss. “I’ve got to go inside now. The boppli’s crying.” She turned toward the door. “It was kind of you to drop by.”
    “What about the picnic?”
    When Barbara glanced over her shoulder, the scrutiny she saw on the bishop’s face made her feel even more uncomfortable. She forced her lips into what she hoped was a polite smile. “I appreciate the offer, but it’s really not possible. Good day,Bishop John.” She nodded at the girls. “It was nice seeing you, Mary and Hannah.”
    They nodded in return.
    Barbara hurried into the house and lifted the baby from the cradle she kept for him in the living room. “The bishop probably thought I was rude, but I couldn’t let you keep crying,” she murmured against the infant’s downy, dark head. “Besides, I’m not about to give that man any hope of my becoming his wife.”

    As Alice stepped away from the kitchen window, where she’d been watching Barbara talk to John Frey, she sighed. The bishop seemed to be coming around a lot lately, and Alice was pretty sure he had more on his mind than checking on Barbara’s physical status. She had a hunch the bishop had set his cap for Barbara— probably because he needed a mother for his girls. She couldn’t fault him for that, but she didn’t think her daughter should be that wife. Barbara had enough on her shoulders, trying to raise four boys and run the harness shop. If she took on the responsibility of John’s girls, too, she would never get any rest.
    Alice took a seat at the table. She really hoped that Barbara and Paul might get together. According to Samuel, Paul was a hard worker and knew a lot about repairing harnesses and saddles. And the boys, except for Aaron, seemed quite smitten with the man. Truth be told, Alice thought Barbara could develop an interest in Paul, too, if she’d give the man half a chance.
    God knows what my daughter needs better than anyone else , she thought as she closed her eyes and offered up a heartfelt prayer. Heavenly Father, if it’s Your will for Barbara to marry again, then let it be at the right time to the right man .

    “This isn’t the way to our house,” Hannah said as John directed their horse and buggy farther down Highway C.
    “I know. I’m making a call on Margaret Hilty, and then we’ll go home,” he replied.
    “But I thought you were just gonna make the one call on Barbara Zook.” Hannah leaned over the front seat and grunted. “Now we’ll get home even later and probably won’t have time to do any wading.”
    “If you don’t get to the creek today, you can go