“I’m starting to feel bad,” she said.
“Don’t.” Elias chuckled. “We’re going for a drive. We’ll bring flowers to a sick lady, and I’ll drop you back off at home. You’re doing nothing wrong, Delia.”
And she knew that. Even if this was a real date, it wouldn’t be wrong, but her boys were fighting this courting with everything in their arsenal.
“How did Violet handle you taking me out for a drive?” Delia asked.
“She’s sulking,” he replied. “She said she wasn’t hungry for dinner and went upstairs.”
“Did you talk to her?” Delia asked.
“She told me to go away, and my mother assured me that she’ll have a chat with her while I’m gone,” he replied. His voice was calm and relaxed, but she noticed how his hands tightened on the reins.
“It’s terrible when they punish us, isn’t it?” she said, nudging his arm with hers.
Elias looked over at her and a smile crinkled around his eyes. “Yah. I hate it. She gives me this look that she’s used on me since she was three years old. And Wanda used to laugh and say that I was wrapped around her finger.”
“Zeke used to say that I was the soft touch, too,” Delia said. “He said I had to learn to stick to my orders with them. And he was right. These last two years without him, I’ve had to get firmer with the boys to keep control. I can’t tell them that their father will have a word with them when they act up anymore, now, can I?”
“You seem to have a pretty good handle on your home, though,” Elias said.
“Do I? Thank you for that.”
“Yah. They’re polite, well-raised boys. They work hard, they’re dedicated, and they’re a credit to you.”
That felt good to hear. “Your Violet is a good girl, too. She’s been keeping up with the boys, and that’s not easy, especially considering this is her first job.”
The horse pulled the buggy out onto the road, and Elias flicked the reins and they sped up to a trot. The breeze that came into the buggy was cooling against her face and neck.
“But we still feel a little guilty, don’t we?” she asked.
“We are the parents, and they are the kinner.”
“True enough... But it makes me feel better that I’m not the only one whose kinner are giving her a hard time.”
“You aren’t alone in that,” he replied with a low laugh. “I’m glad we can do this without the pressure of an actual courtship. I’ve been worried that when I do decide to marry again, Violet will scare off any potential stepmother. This is a difficult age.”
“After this experiment, she might be ready to accept a nice woman in your life,” Delia replied, and for a fleeting second, she felt a little stab of envy for the woman who’d get Elias’s true and honest attention focused on her.
“I hope so...” Elias was quiet, and the silence was filled with the clopping rhythm of horse hooves. “I don’t remember how to get to the Speichers’ place.”
“Up here at the stop sign, you turn left,” she said.
The Speicher acreage was a twenty-five minute drive from Delia’s flower farm. Art and Willa Speicher had been retired for some time—Art had worked at a factory for thirty years before he retired—and they shared a house with their youngest daughter, Lydia. Willa’s health had not been good the last little while.
When they turned into the drive, Art was out in the front flower garden weeding, and Willa was on the porch with a blanket over her legs and a mug between her hands. She looked smaller and frailer than Delia had ever seen her. But more surprising than Willa’s frail state was the fact that an Englisher teenage boy was kneeling at the other end of the garden with an ice cream bucket full of weeds, too. A little red sedan—also definitely out of place—was parked out by the buggy shelter.
Lydia appeared at the side door, an apron over her dress and kitchen towel over one shoulder. She was a slim woman with large brown eyes. She waved at Delia and gave her a curious look. Yah, Lydia would have questions about Elias, that was for sure and certain.
“Good evening, Delia!” Art called, pushing himself to his feet. “And is that...Elias Lehman? Is that you?”
“Yah, yah, it’s me, all right,” Elias said.
Delia got down from the buggy, and Elias hopped down on his side. Delia cast Elias a smile and headed up to the porch with her wrapped flowers. The men would chat and catch up, and she’d have a moment with Willa and Lydia. She sent a smile in the teenager’s direction, too. He looked to be about Thomas’s or Aaron’s age. He had the same gangly, angular look of a teenager still growing into his limbs. Her heart immediately softened at the sight of him.
“Have you met my grandson?” Willa called. “This is Liam—Paul’s son.”
That made sense. Willa and Art’s oldest son, Paul, had gone English years ago, but he had left the community before he was baptized, so he wasn’t shunned. Delia waved at the young man.
“Hello, Liam,” she said. “It’s nice to meet you. Are you here for a visit?”
“Hi. Yeah, just visiting,” Liam said, pushing himself up from his weeding and wiping the dirt off the knees of his jeans. The light was getting low, the sun near setting. “Mammi, I’m just going to get a drink.”
“Of course, dear,” Willa said, and she coughed into a handkerchief.
Liam slipped past Delia and headed into the house just as Lydia came outside.
“It’s nice to see you,” Lydia said.
Willa accepted the flowers and unwrapped them. “Oh, Delia, these are gorgeous. Thank you!” She coughed again, hunching over the handkerchief. “I’m sorry, I’m still getting over the last of the pneumonia, the doctor says. But fresh air is supposed to be good for me.”
“You’ve met Liam?” Lydia asked.
“Yah, barely,” Delia replied. “He looks to be what...fourteen, fifteen?”
“Sixteen,” Lydia clarified, then she lowered her voice. “My brother sent him to spend some time here since he’d been getting into trouble a lot at school.”
“Oh, dear...” Delia winced. “Well, some fresh air and sunshine might do him some good, too.”
