The Shunning by Beverly Lewis

worries about being seen like this skittered fast away.
    She snuggled against his chest and whispered back, “I’ve loved you since I was a little girl. Didn’t you know?” She felt soft laughter ripple through him as she relaxed in his arms.
    “You’re still a girl.”
    She pulled away and looked him square in the face. “I’m old enough to go to Singing, and don’t you forget!”
    He leaped out of the buggy and ran around to stand on the left side, offering first his hand, then disbanding with chivalry and opening his arms wide to her. Not thinking—nor caring—what would happen if they were seen doing such a thing, Katie hopped down, letting him catch her and hold her.
    He didn’t let her go until he’d cupped her face in his hands and tilted it to meet his gaze. “You’re the most beautiful creature on this wide earth, and I want us to get married tomorrow.”
    Katie sighed, understanding. “I’ll grow up quick,” she promised. “You’ll see.”
    His face inched closer, and wistfully he gazed at her lips. “Oh, Katie, whatever happens . . .”
    She didn’t hear the rest. Dan’s words were lost as he drew her close. His lips touched hers, lightly at first, then pressing ever so sweetly.
    It seemed to her that he was never going to stop kissing her, and she wondered if she shouldn’t be the one to do the stopping, because now her head was spinning and she’d never felt so wobbly in her knees before.
    “Oh my,” she finally said, pulling back and smiling up at him.
    When Dan reached for her again, she purposely turned and looked at the old covered bridge up ahead. Some people called them “kissing bridges,” but that wasn’t why she wanted to go there. She needed some air—a bit of distance between herself and Dan. “Maybe a walk would do us good,” she suggested.
    “Jah, let’s walk.” He tied the horse to an old tree stump and held out his hand to her. “Did I offend you just now?” he asked as they made their way down the old dirt lane.
    “No . . . no,” she said softly.
    At the old bridge, they turned away from the road and headed down the banks of Weaver’s Creek. “Hold on now,” he said. “I won’t let you fall.”
    “I know you won’t.” She smiled, eager to trust this boy with the disturbing good looks, who stood out in the Amish community for his bright spirit.
    “I’ve never been lip-kissed before,” Katie admitted as they stepped barefoot across the creek, one stone at a time, finally reaching the huge boulder in the middle of the rushing water.
    “Maybe it’s time I caught you up . . . on kissing, that is.” Daniel grinned.
    “You been kissing for a while?” She had to know, even though she wondered if it was right to be asking.
    “Not really, not like . . . back there.”
    “A peck then?”
    “The smallest peck . . . and on the cheek.”
    Again, she listened to his words, studying his face. Mary Stoltzfus had always said that if you watched a fella’s face when he talked, you could see if he was telling the truth.
    So what did he mean—“a peck on the cheek”? Who, but his mother or sisters, would he kiss that way?
    “You have to tell me who you kissed,” Katie said, surprised at her own bold curiosity.
    “I have to?” His eyes twinkled. “Well, ain’t you the bossy one!”
    She didn’t mind the name-calling. Not with Daniel doing it. He could call her most anything he pleased, if he only told her the truth about whoever it was he’d pecked on the cheek.
    She sat there with her long green dress draped over her knees, hugging her legs as she balanced herself on the boulder next to him. “I’m waiting. . . .”
    To that, he burst out laughing. “It was a little baby. I was two years old and she . . . well, you were just this big.” He measured the space with his hands.
    “Me? You kissed me when I was a baby?”
    “Jah, when Mamma went to visit ya for the first time. Your Mam’s Mennonite cousin came, too. She brought flowers in a vase,