A Wedding for Julia by Vannetta Chapman

burdens, not add to them.
    He drove straight to the barn because Red seemed to behave himself better there. After releasing the horse from the harness and leading him to a shaded pasture, he walked back to his buggy and retrieved his gifts. By the time he walked toward the front porch steps, Julia was waiting for him.
    She looked different somehow, and it surprised him again that he’d never taken the time to notice her before. Her clothes were proper for a Plain woman—but hadn’t she always worn the same color? He thought it was a practical gray with a black apron, but he couldn’t remember. He couldn’t think clearly as he walked up the steps of the porch. Today her dress was a dark green and her apron a light gray. It wasn’t the same thing she’d worn to the store, so she must have changed, as he had. He could barely see her hair, which was pulled back. Maybe an inch of chestnut brown showed in front—combed and pinned, but a few curly strands teased out from the nape of her prayer kapp .
    He’d guess her height to be somewhere between five foot seven and five foot eight—certainly well under his five foot eleven. And though her brown eyes often clouded with worry, he didn’t see any lines yet…only the freckles sprinkled across the bridge of her nose.
    “Forget something?” she asked.
    “No. Why?”
    “You’re standing there looking as if you left something back in your buggy, or maybe you aren’t sure about coming up.” The smile teasing on her lips grew.
    It eased his heart to see that the tension from earlier in the morning was gone, at least for the moment.
    “Let’s see.” He shifted the flowers to his left hand, the hand still holding the basket, and began patting his pockets. “I did have a list. I’d written down the addresses of houses I could stop at, and I wasn’t sure if this was the one or if maybe…say, do I smell oatmeal cookies?”
    “You do.”
    “This is the house then. The one with the beautiful woman, gut cook, and fresh oatmeal cookies.”
    Julia’s eyes narrowed, and he wondered if he’d pushed too hard. “Flattery will not get you up these steps, Caleb Zook.”
    “How about flowers for your mamm and fresh raspberries for you?”
    “ Ya . I believe that will do it.”
    They walked into the house, shoulder to shoulder, and Caleb wondered if that was what it would be like should they marry.
    “Where did you find the berries? And how did you know—”
    “You like to cook, so I guessed you might like them. Folks put out signs on my route, and Mary Stutzman had more than she could use.”
    “Mary? You deliver to the east side of Pebble Creek?”
    “ Ya . East and west. I deliver to all the Amish families, and Kendrick uses the truck to deliver to anyone farther out than I want to take Red.”
    They had made it to the kitchen, and the smell of baking caused Caleb’s stomach to rumble.
    “I believe he’s hungry, Julia.” Ada sat at the table. What was left of the evening light shone through the window positioned next to the stove. It fell on her like a blessing. “Feed him. He brought you flowers.”
    “ Nein . I’ve already eaten dinner, though the cookies smell wunderbaar .” He set the small bunch of flowers in Ada’s hands. She couldn’t straighten her fingers, but she pawed at them and leaned forward to inhale their fragrance.
    “The berries are for Julia,” he explained. “But the flowers are for you.”
    “Sky Blue Aster—butterflies like this one.” Ada pushed her small glasses up so she could see better. Leaning forward, she ran her fingers over the blooms. “Julia, we can dry these and put them in your garden next spring. These taller ones are Spotted Joe-Pye Weed. I haven’t seen it in ages. The blooms are such a deep purple. You must have found them growing near the creek.”
    “Yes, near Aaron’s cabins. There’s a place that stays moist nearly all the time. I saw them when I went home this afternoon to…” He cleared his throat, not