Anna's Forgotten Fiancé. Carrie Lighte

placed her cup on the nightstand so she wouldn’t spill her tea.

      “Oh, Anna.” Naomi sighed. “I’m so thoughtless. I shouldn’t have mentioned my memories when you’re struggling so hard to recall your own.”

      “Neh, it’s fine, truly. I’m relieved to know you’ve been doing a bit better, Naomi. I wanted to ask, I just didn’t know how to talk about...about your grief.”

      “Your faithful prayers and your quiet strength, along with all of your hard work, have kept our household going, Anna. I’m grateful for all you’ve done, even if it seemed I was too sorrowful to notice.” Naomi squeezed her hand. “You remind me so much of your daed. I’ll miss having you here every day, but I’m grateful Gott provided you such a gut man as Fletcher.”

      “Is he such a gut man?” Anna wondered aloud. “How do you know?”

      Naomi blew on her tea before responding. “I suppose I don’t know for certain. You and Fletcher were very secretive about your courtship—even more than most Amish couples customarily are. But I have observed how sincerely considerate he is of me and how helpful he has been to Raymond and Roy at work. Beyond that, I trust your judgment. I know there must have been very sound reasons you decided to marry him.”

      “I want to believe that,” Anna said. “But I honestly don’t remember what they are.”

      “Give it time, it will kumme.”

      “But there’s hardly any time left! Aaron courted me for two and a half years and I still wasn’t sure whether to marry him. How was it I was certain I should marry Fletcher after knowing him for less than half a year? What if the reasons don’t return to me within this next month?”

      “We’ll build that bridge when we kumme to the creek,” Naomi responded with Anna’s father’s carpenter variation on the old saying, “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

      The two of them shared a chuckle before Naomi continued, “Even if it takes a while longer for your memory to fully return, I’d suggest you wait to make any changes to your wedding plans until the last possible moment. After all, if you postpone the wedding now and your memory suddenly kummes back, you’ll have to wait until autumn’s wedding season to get married. That delay can seem like forever to a young couple in love! Plus, you’ve already invited all of your guests. And, if you and Fletcher don’t marry in the spring, it’s my understanding the house could possibly go to Aaron and Melinda, which hardly seems fair since the two of you have already paid the back taxes. But you needn’t think about any of that today. Right now, rest is the best thing for you.”

      Feeling reassured, Anna dropped into a deep slumber until she woke to someone rapping at her door. It was Melinda, declaring, “Guder mariye. Time to get up, schlofkopp.”

      Noting her surroundings, Anna suddenly understood why her cousin referred to her as a sleepyhead. “I slept here all night? Where did Naomi sleep?”

      “Upstairs, in your bed,” grumbled Melinda. “When I came in after curfew, she lectured me about how I must guard my reputation, even though I’m soon to be wed. By the time she finished her spiel, I hardly got a wink of sleep, but she let you sleep in, since it’s an off-Sunday.”

      Although she felt completely refreshed, Anna was just as happy that church wouldn’t meet again until the following Sunday—she didn’t feel prepared to field questions about her injury from the well-meaning leit of her district. After breakfast, the family read Scripture and prayed together. They followed their worship with a time of writing letters, individual Bible reading and doing jigsaw puzzles, but since Anna was prohibited from activities that required using close vision, Evan and Eli took turns reading aloud to her. Then, after a light dinner, the boys were permitted to engage in quiet outdoor leisure and games.

      “What will you and Fletcher do when he visits today?” Melinda asked her.

      Anna shrugged. “I have no idea what kinds of things we enjoy doing together. I suppose we’ll take a walk and talk.” She secretly just hoped to get to know him better.

      “That sounds rather boring. Why don’t you kumme out with Aaron and me?” Melinda suggested. “We’re going for a ride to the location where Aaron plans to build our house later in the spring. It will be a tight squeeze in his buggy, but we can fit.”

      “Are you sure you won’t mind if we accompany you?”

      “Of course not. After all, think of how many times you and Aaron let me tag along on your outings,” Melinda said.

      Anna remembered. She’d intended to demonstrate how a young Amish woman ought to behave in social settings and she naively believed Aaron was being forbearing in allowing Melinda to join them: she didn’t realize he was interested in Melinda romantically.

      “Besides,” Melinda chattered blithely, “Naomi won’t fret about my reputation if I’m out with you.”

      Anna sighed. So that was the reason she was being invited. Still, it seemed she and Fletcher had an easier time conversing when there were more people around. “I’d like that,” she said. “As long as Fletcher doesn’t mind.”

      * * *

      Because they’d been so discreet about their relationship, Anna and Fletcher usually favored spending any free time they had with each other instead of attending social events within their district, such as Sunday evening singings. They’d certainly never accompanied another couple on an outing before, so Fletcher was startled when Anna asked if he’d like to join Aaron and Melinda on a ride to see the property Aaron intended to buy. But, realizing Anna wouldn’t have remembered their dislike of double dating, Fletcher deferred to her request. Besides, he was heartened by the fact Aaron was considering buying property—perhaps it meant he was as dedicated as ever to marrying Melinda, and Fletcher’s concerns about him and Anna were for naught.

      The afternoon was unseasonably sunny and warm, and the tips of the trees were beginning to show dots of green and red buds. As the two couples sped up and down the hills in Aaron’s buggy, Anna kept marveling at the changes in the landscape. She noticed nearly every tree that was missing and each fence post that had been replaced after the October tornado. She seemed especially aghast to discover the schoolhouse was one of the buildings that had suffered the worst damage, but she was relieved to learn none of the children had been harmed.

      “Now that you’ve had more rest and you’ve seen the destruction, surely you must remember the storm,” Aaron suggested. “It was so violent that I couldn’t forget it if I tried.”

      Anna shrugged. “I still have absolutely no recollection of anything that happened in the past six months, whether big or small, positive or negative.”

      “I guess that’s gut news for you, huh, Fletcher? Anna can’t remember any of your faults,” Aaron needled his cousin. “On the other hand, she probably can’t remember why she agreed to marry you, either.”

      Fletcher’s mouth burned with a sour taste but before he could respond, Anna abruptly shifted the subject, asking Melinda, “Where will the two of you live until Aaron has time to build a house?”

      “With Naomi and the boys,” she replied, clutching Aaron’s arm as he rounded a corner. “It will be crowded but I’m trying to convince Naomi to temporarily move into the room in the attic so we can have her room downstairs.”

      From the corner of his eye, Fletcher caught Anna frowning. He usually felt as if he could read her expression as easily as the pages in a book, but today he couldn’t tell if she was scowling because of Aaron’s rambunctious driving, Melinda’s gall in asking Naomi to take the attic room, or some other reason altogether. The uncertainty caused his mouth to sag, too.

      “Here we are,” Aaron announced as he swiftly brought the horse to a standstill. He made a sweeping motion with his hand to indicate the field to their right.

      “The old Lantz homestead?” Fletcher asked.

      The modest square of land