The Prodigal Son Returns. Jan Drexler

Samuel while we were in Shipshewana.”

      Bram didn’t answer Matthew. So what if his brother had been there? There had been no sign of Kavanaugh, and that was what mattered.

      Matthew continued in his mild tone, “We could have taken the time to see him.”

      “It would have been a waste.” Bram kept his eyes on the wheel he was adjusting.

      “I know you have your differences, but it doesn’t seem right to ignore him.”

      “My brother and I don’t have anything in common, that’s all.”

      “Except you do.” Matthew was persistent. “You share your family, your parents, your history...”

      Bram glanced at his brother-in-law. Did he have any idea what it was like to grow up as a Lapp?

      “Ja, we share our history, and that’s the problem.” Bram tightened the last bolt and stood up to admire the plow. It was a beauty. He wiped his hands on a rag and turned to Matthew.

      “Our Dat was an alcoholic. I didn’t like it, but that’s how he was, and that’s what killed him.” And what probably killed Mam, too, in the end. Bram rubbed a bit of grease from the side of his finger. “My brother is just like him, and if I never see Samuel again, I’ll be happy.”

      Bram waited for the shock on Matthew’s face. Any Amishman would tell you that the attitude he had toward his brother was sinful, but Matthew’s face only showed sadness.

      “Ach, Bram, Annie never told me all of this.”

      “Ja, well, it happened when she was a little girl—and I don’t think the girls saw all of it. Mam did what she could to protect them.”

      The silence that followed was as welcome as rain. Bram fastened the barn door and then climbed onto the wagon seat with Matthew for the drive back to their farm.

      “How soon do you think you’ll be able to move onto this place?” Matthew asked.

      “Next week, I hope.” Bram was glad to change the subject. “I’ve been working on the barn, and I’ll need to clean out the house before I move in.”

      “It’ll be a good farm when you’re done.” Matthew slapped the reins over the horses’ backs. “You’ll be able to count on the church’s help with the farmwork, Bram.”

      “Ja, that will be good. I appreciate it.” At least he thought he did. He liked to work alone.

      Bram glanced sideways at Matthew. What kind of man had his sister married? A good man, for sure, but he was young. Oh, in years he was almost as old as Bram, but he seemed so naive about the world. All these Amishmen did. Compared to the men in Chicago...well, it was a good thing they’d never meet. These poor fellows wouldn’t survive on the streets.

      Bram rubbed at the grease on his finger. He had survived, but he had been tougher at seventeen than Matthew was in his twenties. Maybe having a father like his wasn’t such a bad thing.

      * * *

      “Lovina, you be sure to take some of these cookies home to Noah.” Mam took another panful of snickerdoodles out of the oven.

      Ellie took in a deep breath full of cinnamon and sugar. No matter how old she was, Mam’s kitchen would always be home.

      “Were the children good for you today?” Ellie couldn’t resist taking a cooled cookie from the counter.

      “Ach, ja. They are always the best when they’re with their grossmutti. They play so well together.” Mam slid another cookie sheet into the oven. “Of course, I haven’t seen anything of them once the girls got home from school. They’re all in the backyard.”

      “I must be getting home.” Lovina found an extra plate and put some cookies on it. “Noah will be waiting for his supper.”

      “We’ll see you at Matthew Beachey’s tomorrow?”

      “For sure. I wouldn’t miss a frolic for anything.”

      Ellie put down the cookie she was nibbling. “A frolic?”

      “Ja,” Mam said as she put some more cookies on Lovina’s plate. “Remember? We’re having a sewing frolic for Annie Beachey. It’s their first little one.”

      Ach, how could she forget? The cookie suddenly lost its flavor. She had let this frolic slip her mind, like most occasions that meant facing a crowd of people.

      “You’re coming, aren’t you, Ellie?” Lovina paused, her hand on the door. “It’s been a long time since you’ve been to any of the frolics or get-togethers.”

      A long time? Only since Daniel’s death.

      “We’ll get her there.” Mam put her arm around Ellie’s shoulders and gave her a quick hug. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

      Ellie waited until Lovina was out the door before turning to Mam. “I don’t think I’ll go tomorrow.”

      “Why ever not? And don’t try to give me the excuse that Danny’s too young. He’ll be fine.”

      “I...” How could she tell Mam how it felt to be in a crowd? She had never liked large groups of people, but lately she was more than just uncomfortable. The thought of all the women talking, laughing, staring at her... Church was bad enough.

      “I just don’t feel like going.”

      Mam gave her a long look. “I know you don’t feel like it, but you’ve waited long enough. I haven’t pushed you, but perhaps I should have. You need to do this, Ellie. You need to be with your church family. The longer you put it off, the harder it will be.”

      Mam was right, of course.

      “Ja, I’ll go.” Ellie sighed, but with the sigh came a stirring of something she hadn’t felt for a long time. She would go. She had always enjoyed her friends before, hadn’t she? Perhaps she would even have fun.

      Chapter Five

      As soon as the scholars left the next morning, Ellie and Mam were off to Matthew Beachey’s in the family buggy.

      “Who will be there, Memmi?” Susan sat on the front bench seat between them, her legs swinging with the buggy’s movements.

      Ellie hesitated, her throat dry, and Mam answered. “Rachel will be there and most of the children from church.”

      Susan’s anxious face mirrored her own, and Ellie gave the little girl’s knee a reassuring squeeze. They both shared an intense shyness around groups of people. Should they have stayed home after all?

      Matthew Beachey came out of the barn to greet them as Mam drove into the yard.

      “Good morning.” He reached for Brownie’s bridle. “I’ll take care of the horse for you while you go on into the house.”

      “Denki, Matthew.” Mam returned the young man’s smile. “You’re keeping busy away from the hen party, are you?”

      Matthew’s natural laugh put Ellie at ease. He was always friendly and ready for fun—no wonder everyone liked him.

      When Bram Lapp walked out of the barn behind Matthew, Ellie looked away and straightened Susan’s kapp. She had forgotten he might be here.

      “Good morning, Bram.” Mam’s voice was friendly as usual, as if seeing Bram Lapp in the Beachey’s farmyard was an everyday occurrence.

      “Good morning.” He answered Mam, but when Ellie finished fussing with Susan and glanced his way again, he was looking directly at her. His eyes were dark, unsure. Ja, he remembered how rude she had been the last time they’d talked. She looked over to Mam for help, but she was deep in conversation with Matthew.

      Bram stepped closer and reached out to help Susan down from the buggy. Before Ellie could stop her, Susan jumped