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      Martha Schrock King had opened the house windows to allow the warm spring breeze to filter in and freshen up the stale indoor air. She stood at her bedroom window, enjoying the light gust that caressed her face and rustled her clothing as she studied the yard below.

      Spring had made her mark. The lawn was lush and green; the leaves on the trees were beginning to sprout light green while others showed the promise of rebirth in the tiny reddish-brown buds at the end of each tree branch.

      She’d been alone in the house these past few weeks, and she was managing. There were memories of her husband in every room. She could almost hear his voice calling to her as he entered the house from outside. She and Ike had been married more than a year when he’d suffered a fatal heart attack while shoveling snow during an early heavy November snowstorm. During the winter months that followed, she’d had to come to grips with living the rest of her life alone. She would never know the joy of growing old with her husband nor experience the wonder of holding their baby son or daughter. But Ike’s death was Gottes wille and she prayed to the Lord daily for the strength to accept it.

      Martha shifted her attention toward her farm fields. It was the season when families gathered to work up the soil and plant seed. Soon she’d have to find someone to help with the planting. She could appeal to the community, but the farm was hers, and eventually she would have to find a way to manage on her own. If she didn’t, she might have to sell the property and go home to Indiana.

      Thoughts of Indiana made her think briefly of her former betrothed, John Miller. She had cared for him deeply and she’d thought he’d felt the same. But then John had chosen to leave the Amish way of life—and her. She had joined the church and would have been shunned if she’d gone with him. Not that he’d ever asked me. The knowledge still made her feel a little pang whenever she recalled the day he’d told her that he was leaving.

      Martha straightened her spine. She must accept that her life hadn’t gone the way she’d envisioned. She had loved and lost two men—John and her husband, Ike. She sighed. There was no use questioning God’s plan. She would find the strength to rise above the challenge to become self-sufficient. Fortunately, Ike had left her enough money to last for several months, perhaps even a year if she was careful. But she needed to discover a way to earn income before there was nothing left to buy supplies, care for the animals and maintain the house.

      As she turned from the window, she caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye. She groaned as she saw her first challenge. Two sheep had escaped from the pasture and were munching contently on the side lawn. Then she watched as her best dairy cow widened the fence opening as it followed the sheep.

      Martha hurried downstairs. If she didn’t put them back where they belonged, the animals might wander into the road. As she raced outside, she made a quick decision to corral the sheep first. She eased toward the closest one, and when the animal bolted out of reach, she ran after it. Her attempts to corner her livestock became an unwelcome game of cat and mouse between her and the sheep as she raced about the yard in hot pursuit.

      The animal stopped several feet away. Martha paused to catch her breath, hoping that if she remained still for a few minutes, the sheep would become too busy eating to notice when she approached. She bent over and rested her hands on her knees, peering at them in watchful anticipation. Straightening slowly, she took a small step toward it and then stopped. When the animal didn’t move, Martha eased closer, then froze when the sheep suddenly looked up from his food, gave her an evil look and took off. She spun toward the other lamb that stood within range, but it baaed loudly at her and scuttled away.

      Determined, she gave chase, zigzagging back and forth in an attempt to block one and then the other’s escape. The sheep ran toward her Holstein, and Martha shrieked in frustration as the cow mooed and shifted into a loping run. She found herself running after three animals instead of two. She became dismayed when she heard bleating and noted the escape of a fourth animal—Millicent, her temperamental milk goat.

      “Move!” she hollered as she ran about waving her hands in an attempt to herd them in the right direction. “Nay! Nay! This way!”

      “Shoo! Shoo!” a deep voice exclaimed, startling her.

      Martha spun and saw Elijah Lapp, her friend Annie’s brother-in-law, as he joined in the chase for her livestock. She gasped as something soft brushed past her—one of the escaped lambs.

      Flashing her a grin, Eli raced after the animal. She started to follow but slowed when she spotted his vehicle parked in the dirt drive close to the farmhouse. Recognizing Annie seated in the market wagon with her young son, Martha waved at her before she renewed her efforts to capture and pen up her animals.

      It felt like a comedy of errors to Martha as she and Eli ran about the yard in hot pursuit of four pesky farm critters. Eli reached to snatch the smaller lamb and nearly fell when it eluded his grasp. He righted himself as the lamb headed in her direction, and Martha extended her arms to capture it. She slipped to her knees but managed to get a firm grip on the sheep.

      “Got him!” she cried. Triumphant, she grinned at Eli, who gave her a nod of approval before he went after the second lamb.

      Where could she put it until the fence was repaired? Martha gave it some thought. In the barn. She fought to pick up the struggling animal as she stood, then stumbled into the building and locked it inside a stall before she left to rejoin Eli. Outside Eli had control of the cow and was urging her toward the barn.

      “In the stable next to the sheep!” she instructed, and he immediately obeyed.

      While Eli was inside the barn, Martha went after her wily goat. The beast bleated loudly as if daring Martha to capture her. Martha sprang forward just as the goat rammed into her. Taken by surprise, Martha wobbled and then fell face forward. She got a mouthful of grass and dirt as the animal took off behind her.

      Martha rolled onto her side and lay a moment with her eyes closed. She counted to ten silently, unhappy to be bested by a stubborn she-goat. She thought she heard Annie cry out something, but she couldn’t be sure.

      Sensing someone above her, she looked up and saw Eli gazing down at her with concern. “Are you all right?” he said huskily. He crouched down to examine her more closely, and she felt the sharp impact of his bright azure eyes.

      “Ja, I’m unhurt.” She gave him a crooked smile. The only thing that ailed her was embarrassment.

      Looking relieved, Eli rose and extended his hand toward her. Martha stared at it a moment, debating whether or not to accept his help. She lifted her gaze and noted his tousled hair along with the dirt streaks and grass clippings on his handsome face and on his clothing. Two animals were in their pens, but there were still two critters running loose. The young man’s appearance and her own state of disarray with messy hair and grass-stained frock suddenly struck her as hilarious. She began to laugh. Her laughter started as a wide smile, then became a chuckle before it blossomed into a full-out belly-clutching roar.

      She could sense that Eli was startled as he stared at her in silence with his hand still extended. Then his features crinkled with amusement, and his blue eyes began to twinkle. His chuckle turned into a laugh as if he, like her, had realized suddenly the hilarity in their situation—two grown adults bested by livestock.

      Her laughter felt wonderful; it had been a while since she’d felt this good. Martha reached for his hand, and Eli pulled her to her feet. Her loud outburst eased to a soft giggle. Then the thought came to her that this wasn’t proper behavior for a widow, and she quickly pulled herself together.

      “What do ya think?” she asked him. “Can we get the last of them?”

      “Ja.” He grinned. “Can’t let a couple of critters get the better of us.”

      Martha couldn’t contain her chuckle. “I think they already have.”

      “Not for long!” he exclaimed as he spun and gave chase to the goat that dared to come too close. “Bet I can grab him first!”

      “Not if I get to her before you

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