Free The Parting by Beverly Lewis Page B

who was surely listening in even though she feigned busyness at the far end of the counter, Nellie kept to herself what she knew of Uncle Bishop and her aunt’s trip.
    Switching the subject, she asked, “Who else knows?”
    “Only Elias and our parents. That’s all for now.” Rosanna nodded her head toward Rhoda. “So if you don’t mind . . .”
    “That’s fine,” Nellie agreed, waving good-bye to Rosanna, who said her farewells and left the shop.
    Upon her absence, Rhoda eyed Nellie closely. “Please don’t even ask me,” Nellie blurted.
    “Well, aren’t you peeved,” Rhoda shot back.
    Nellie sighed. “I ’spect Mamma has pulled the last of my bread from the oven by now. I’ll be back in a bit.” Heading out the door, she decided to take the longed-for detour to the meadow, not caring for the moment that doing so might make Rhoda late for her job. Oh, how I do wish Dat would allow Mamma to mind the store again .
    Lifting her skirt, Nellie ran through the nearby pastureland, all the way out to the vast meadow on the easternmost side of her father’s land. Let Rhoda see what it’s like to be inconvenienced for once, she thought. Her eldest sister had never been one to offer a helping hand—not without Dat’s encouragement. Rhoda frequently didn’t come home for supper, let alone help to prepare it, and she’d slip out of the house and be gone all day when her sisters and Mamma needed help getting the house ready for Preaching service when their turn to host came around. And if the bakery shop needed a thorough cleaning, Rhoda usually made herself scarce then, too.
    No matter Rhoda’s tendency to selfishness, Nellie didn’t see her getting in over her head the way Suzy had with her English friends. For one, Rhoda didn’t seem to have any suitors. No, as far as she knew, Rhoda was getting mighty close to being passed over by the young men in the district—twenty-one was nearly past courting age. Even without a beau, she ought to take baptismal instruction next year and join church.
    Someone else hadn’t joined church yet, either, although he was much younger than Rhoda. Caleb was holding off, which was interesting, especially the way he’d talked last Sunday. Why hadn’t he planned to take the baptismal vow with the rest of the candidates in a few weeks? The day would surely come when she would be doing the same thing herself.
    She shivered happily at the memory of speaking with Caleb yesterday. After months of waiting, she would be the girl to win Caleb’s heart. Or so she hoped.
    She couldn’t help but smile as she strolled into the woods, suddenly realizing she was farther from home than she’d intended. She relished the idea of having this time to herself and wandered onward, taking her time . . . breathing in the fresh, clean air, and observing the pretty patterns the filtered sunlight made on the grassy floor below. She whispered Suzy’s name, wondering if the dead could hear what you spoke out into the air. The Lord does . . . Uncle Bishop says so . Yet if that was the case, why then were none of the prayers offered by the People spoken aloud? Only the bishop or their preachers ever prayed out loud, and then only at Preaching service.
    Her mind wandered back to Suzy, who had so often walked this very way with her. How had she sneaked away to the world without confiding in Nellie, when Suzy had so long had a habit of blurting out things better left unsaid? Until her sister’s Rumschpringe, Nellie and Suzy had faithfully confided everything in each other. Yet in the last year of her life, Suzy had seemed to turn more to her diary than the anxious ears of her sister.
    The diary . . .
    Never one to sneak a peek before, Nellie had avoided doing so as Suzy had grown increasingly secretive, keeping her thoughts hidden in her side of the dresser.
    A single page was all Nellie had allowed herself the day after Suzy drowned, snapping the diary shut upon reading the words What have I done to