Thomas cast him a relieved grin. The boy probably didn’t have enough pocket money to buy another pair of suspenders, and he didn’t want to tell his mother. Elias understood that feeling when a boy’s manly instincts were starting to kick in, and he wasn’t actually grown enough to take care of himself. It was a difficult time for a boy’s pride, and mothers didn’t always recognize it.
“Come over after I’ve got my buggy back over there. I’ll leave it by the pump. Bring your own bucket and cloth, if you could, but we’ve got the soap.”
“Yah, I can do that.”
This was a point in his favor with Thomas... Now, to start doing that with the other three boys. Delia really did have her work cut out for her if she wanted these boys to accept a suitor. But she was worth it—and any man who took some time to get to know both her and the boys would see that.
He headed over to the porch, and Violet stopped swinging.
“Did you have a nice time?” Elias asked his daughter.
“It was okay,” she said. “You took long enough.”
“It wasn’t more than two hours,” he replied.
“Still.”
He met Violet’s petulant gaze, and she asked, “Can I go to the youth event Monday night?”
“What youth event?” he asked, and he glanced over at Delia.
“Oh, it’s at the Lapp farm,” Delia said as her shoes hit gravel and she straightened her skirt. “They’re having volleyball and a hymn sing. My boys are going.”
“They said I can go with them, if I want,” Violet said, and she dug into the gravel with the toe of her shoe. “It sounded fun. I thought it might be nice to play volleyball again. I’m pretty good at it.”
She was very good at volleyball, actually. She had a very good spike where she could smash the ball down over the net.
“Ezekiel will be driving them in his buggy,” Delia said. “He’ll be driving Beulah, his girlfriend, as well. So Violet wouldn’t be the only girl in the buggy, if that concerns you.”
A youth group night of fun with other Amish kinner. It wasn’t a bad idea.
“Well, I suppose you can go,” Elias said.
A smile broke over his daughter’s face, and suddenly, he wasn’t looking into the face of his rebellious teen anymore. This was the smile of his little girl—still under the teenager surface—and he was so glad to see that open, happy smile that a lump rose in his throat.
“Danke, Daet!”
“Maybe while they’re all out having fun, we can have pie together,” Delia said quietly. “It would be...expected, don’t you think?”
A pie baked by Delia Swarey? He wouldn’t turn that down! It was the time with her that piqued his interest.
“I’d be happy to come have dessert with you,” he said, and he felt his own open, happy smile come to his lips. “We can compare notes over how we handled things tonight.”
She tapped the side of her nose and then headed up to the front door.
Elias glanced back at Thomas. The boy was watching him.
“Delia?” Elias called after her.
“Yah?” She turned, and his heart took a tumble—she looked so pretty there at her own front door.
“I asked Thomas to wash my buggy tonight. Do you mind?”
Delia looked past him toward her son, then shrugged. “Not at all. He’s a hard worker. He’ll do a good job.”
“See you later, then,” he said.
And Delia smiled again, then disappeared inside.
“Let’s get back,” he said to Violet.
He’d explain later why he’d asked Thomas to wash his buggy, but now was not the time. And that youth event might be good for Violet, too. Violet would get a little bit of safe freedom, and Elias could get a little more advice and moral support from Delia, who was quickly becoming the answer to his own prayers.
Chapter Five
Delia looked out the door once more as Elias and Violet hopped up into the buggy. Elias waited until his daughter was seated, and then he hoisted himself up. He was protective of Violet, and she liked to see it. Her stepfather hadn’t been anything like that with her, and she couldn’t help but wonder what it would have felt like to have a father taking such good care of her when she was at that age.
She turned from the window and found her boys all looking at her pointedly. Except for Thomas. He had a broken pair of suspenders in one hand and one of her good sewing needles and thread.
“Thomas, that needle with break on leather,” she said.
“Sorry.” He put the needle and thread onto the table, the suspenders still clutched in one fist.
“That was Aaron’s fault,” Moses said. “They were fighting.”
“Fighting about what?” Delia demanded.
“Nothing,” Thomas muttered. “It’s fine.”
