Free The Atonement by Beverly Lewis Page B

fewer hummingbirds around the flower beds in the last few days and felt the slight chill in the air, especially late at night when he awoke, restless, and went outdoors and sat on the back porch to pray.
    â€œAutumn’s officially here tomorrow,” he commented.
    Sarah gave him a sidelong glance. “Somethin’ more than that on your mind?”
    â€œThere is, jah .” Christian wasn’t altogether sure how to bring this up. Knowing Sarah, though, it was best to just get it out and let the chips fall where they might, though he did have his qualms about it. Already he could sense her growing anxiety. “Nothin’ to fret over,” he prefaced what he wanted to say.
    â€œOh?” She let out a small laugh. “Well then, why are ya workin’ your jaw like that?”
    Not a gut start . . .
    He sucked in a breath and began. “The fella who dropped by today—Dale Wyeth—well, I wondered what you’d think if I invited him to stay over for a couple days at some point.”
    â€œWhatever for?” Sarah’s voice was suddenly shrill.
    â€œJust to give him more time on the farm to observe and take him over to Caleb’s shop, too, maybe. I’d like to teach him what he’s itchin’ to learn.”
    â€œWell, surely the man has a job.”
    â€œHe owns a hardware store—doesn’t have to be there all the time.”
    â€œOh, Christian.” She sounded downright mournful. “Have ya forgotten so soon ’bout—”
    â€œHow could I?”
    Sarah folded her arms and looked down at the ground. “Seems to me it ain’t a gut idea to let an Englischer near our family.”
    He’d guessed she might say as much. “Dale’s different, though. He’s not a bit pushy, and from what I gather, he’s a devout Christian. And this is all my idea—I’m tellin’ you first. Dale knows nothing about the possibility of staying here. He’s just very curious ’bout our ways, is all.” Christian slowed his pace. “And spending time with him is helping me like nothing else has.”
    â€œHelpin’ what?”
    â€œ Ach, Sarah.”
    For a long time, she was silent. When she did speak, her voice cracked. “Just put yourself in Lucy’s shoes—imagine how she might feel.”
    Christian considered that.
    â€œI daresay you haven’t given this enough thought, dear.”
    â€œWhich is why I brought it up to you now,” he replied as tactfully as possible. To her credit, Sarah had made a fair assessment of the situation.
    â€œIt was wise not to simply jump ahead and invite your friend,” Sarah added.
    So she wasn’t budging. “Guess I’ll just give him a few pointers, then,” he replied.
    If it had been dusk, he might have reached for her hand. But given the way she looked—her arms a protective shield about her—Christian realized that, dark or light, his wife was not keen on having her hand in his just now. He was sorry he’d ever brought up Dale Wyeth.

Chapter 10

    L UCY OPENED THE BACK DOOR to her grandmother’s small Dawdi Haus and stepped quietly inside. Mammi Flaud was sitting in her most comfortable chair, a gray recliner, a few feet from the oak hutch built by Lucy’s grandfather decades ago. Mammi’s eyes were closed and her gray-white head leaned back in sweet repose, but as Lucy moved inside, the floor creaked and Mammi awakened, her wrinkled face breaking into a sunshine of a smile.
    â€œ Ach . I was tryin’ my best to be quiet.”
    â€œYou’re chust fine, child.” Her grandmother leaned on the arms of the chair as she inched up to a stand, though still a bit stooped. “Your cousin Barbie Ann, over in New Holland, came by yesterday and dropped off a large bag of fabric leftovers,” Mammi said as they went into the kitchen and sat down for some coffee.
    â€œHow nice for the quilter