Anna's Forgotten Fiancé. Carrie Lighte

she’d have to rush to finish them, since there were only a few weeks until the wedding as it was.

      Of course, her dilemma about their wedding clothes wasn’t nearly as disconcerting as her growing concern about whether or not they should get married at all. Anna hesitated to bring up the subject with Fletcher, who demonstrated no signs of hesitation about carrying through with their plans. Considering all they’d apparently invested in their relationship, their house and their wedding, how could she tell him she had doubts about their future together? Once her misgivings were voiced, there’d be no taking them back. Even if her concerns were legitimate under the circumstances, Anna was aware of how deeply they might hurt Fletcher. Completely exasperated, she cried herself to sleep, stirring only once when Melinda’s footsteps creaked on the stairs.

      By morning, she resolved to exercise more patience as she waited upon the Lord to guide her about what to do next in regard to the wedding. After praying once again for her memory to return—and for a sense of peace in the meantime—she managed to comb her hair into a loose likeness of a bun. She had breakfast on the stove before Naomi could forbid her to help. She knew her stepmother was only concerned for her health, but Anna was growing increasingly restless from being told she couldn’t do her share of work around the house.

      Naomi chided her anyway. “The doctor said for you to take it easy. Where is Melinda hiding this morning?”

      “Here I am,” Melinda answered, skittering into the room.

      “Gut. Since you and Anna need the buggy to go into town today, I’ll drop Raymond and Roy off at work,” Naomi suggested. “While I’m gone, I’d like you to clean the breakfast dishes and wring and hang the laundry, please. And remember, Anna isn’t to help with any housework until she’s seen the doctor again.”

      The ride to the mercantile was much smoother than it had been in Aaron’s buggy, and on the way, Anna asked Melinda about their shopping list. She assumed they were picking up grocery staples for the week and she thought dividing the list would make the task easier.

      “Oopsie, you must have forgotten our plan, since we arranged today’s outing prior to your accident,” Melinda replied. “We’re not buying groceries. I’m buying organdy for my wedding apron. I also need to check to see whether the fabric has arrived for my dress and my newehockers’ dresses. Aaron’s mother is sewing his wedding suit, so I needn’t concern myself with that. What do you intend to purchase today?”

      Anna swiveled toward her and cocked her head, racking her brain. If only Melinda had reminded her they were going fabric shopping, she might have had an opportunity to discuss the matter with Naomi, whose practical and Godly advice she valued.

      “I don’t know that I’ll purchase anything,” she finally responded. “After Grace’s question yesterday, I checked my sewing basket and the closet this morning and I didn’t find evidence I’ve been working on my wedding dress, but I didn’t have a chance to ask Naomi if I might have hung it somewhere else. Nor do I know if I’ve finished Fletcher’s suit. I don’t even know whether I’ve chosen my newehockers or who they might be.”

      Melinda clicked her tongue. “That’s the trouble with being so secretive. To be honest, it hurt my feelings a bit that you never confided in me about your relationship with Fletcher. Perhaps if you’d told me more, I’d be able to help determine your sewing needs now. But, as Aaron and I agree, it makes sense that you and Fletcher hid your courtship from everyone, especially from us.”

      Anna silently counted backward from ten before responding. “Plenty of Amish couples still practice discretion about sharing their courtship—the custom isn’t intended to insult anyone, so I’m sorry if you felt that way,” she said. Taking a deep breath, she asked, “But what do you mean it made sense we’d keep our courtship hidden, especially from you?”

      “Oh, you know,” Melinda prattled on obliviously, working the reins. “I imagine you might have worried if you brought Fletcher around socially, he would have been drawn to me, the way Aaron was. Not that I’d ever be interested in Fletcher, of course, but you must have some lingering worries. It’s only natural. Also, Aaron said the two of you never kept your courtship such a secret. He thinks that you and Fletcher didn’t let anyone know you were courting because you were worried Aaron might tell Fletcher that he was your second choice.”

      “Oh really?” Anna asked drily. What hogwash! She was the one who begged her father and Naomi not to send Melinda back to Ohio after she discovered her shenanigans with Aaron! And she was the one who insisted she was glad Melinda had found an Amish boyfriend instead of an Englischer because maybe he’d be a good influence on her! As for Aaron, she’d gotten over their breakup within a couple of weeks. Some of his ideas were so preposterous Anna wondered why she’d ever accepted him as her suitor.

      They continued in silence until they reached the designated horse and buggy lot on the far end of Main Street. After they’d secured the animal at the hitching post, Anna said, “I’m going to Schrock’s while you’re at the mercantile. I expect you back within half an hour, please.”

      The bells jingled when she pushed open the door of Schrock’s Shop, and Anna’s agitation was replaced with a sense of nostalgia. She took special pleasure in the resourcefulness and creativity of the Amish leit from her district, who consigned their handiwork in the large store. Today the gallery bustled with tourists in search of specialty Amish items such as quilts, toys, furniture, dried flower wreaths and naturally scented candles. She knew Joseph Schrock must have been pleased so many people were making purchases, although he looked overwhelmed by the line stretching from the register to the door. It seemed such a shame Anna couldn’t work that afternoon, but she decided not to add to Joseph’s burden by interrupting him with small talk.

      She browsed the aisles, noting the price and location of the inventory. I don’t recall any of these items being stacked here, she thought. She took a square of paper and a pencil from her purse and jotted down the contents on the shelves so she could study them before returning to work. When she finished, she turned to leave, nearly bumping into another young Amish woman whose arms were loaded with bars of homemade soap.

      “Excuse me,” she apologized, bending to retrieve the bars that had spilled from the woman’s grasp.

      “Anna!” the woman declared. “It’s so gut to see you—I wasn’t sure if you’d be stopping in today. We’ve been praying for you since we heard about your head injury. How do you feel?”