Whispers of a New Dawn by Murray Pura

words. After three weeks of this I’m getting pretty good at my German.”
    “ Ja ? Ich kann ohne dich nicht leben .”
    Becky slapped him on the chest. “Too many words. You’re telling me there’s something you cannot do but I’m not sure what it is.”
    “Well, I’ll say it again in a week and maybe you will understand it then.”
    “What? I can’t wait a week. Tell me.”
    “ Nein .”
    “Tell me!”
    “ Guten Morgen , you two. This is not a fight, is it?”
    Becky and Moses jumped to their feet as Ruth entered the barn. “Oh, good morning, Auntie. No, it is just that Moses will not tell me what he said and I don’t know enough German to understand it.”
    Ruth lifted a dark eyebrow at Moses. “And what did young Moses Yoder say?”
    Moses shrugged and repeated the words. Ruth smiled and bent over to pick up a stool.
    Becky glared at her. “Well? Are you going to be part of this whole game of his too?”
    “I suppose I am.” Ruth settled herself by a cow several stalls over. “It’s not for me to tell you what his words mean. But they are very nice.”
    “I can’t believe this!”
    “Moses.” Ruth glanced up. “You have not worked dairy before, have you? So sit beside me here and I will teach you.”
    Becky put her hands on her hips. “I was showing him.”
    “ Ja ? And how far did you get?”
    Becky glared at her aunt a moment longer. “Fine!” She sat back down and went at her cow as if the milk would only come out if there were a fistfight. She worked in silence, her movements short and sharp, while Ruth and Moses talked and laughed as he got the hang of milking. Then all three of them worked alone in different stalls as sunlight began to make its way into the barn.
    “Rebecca.”
    She didn’t look up when Moses spoke. “What?”
    “Your aunt has gone in to help with the breakfast.”
    “Good.”
    “So we’re alone again.”
    “Alone again with seven more cows to milk.”
    Moses touched her shoulder. “Are you angry?”
    “What could I possibly have to be angry about?”
    “Do you want to know what I said?”
    “I don’t care anymore.”
    “Shall I tell you rather than make you wait?”
    Becky picked up her stool and bucket and began to make her way to another cow. “It doesn’t matter to me one way or the other.”
    Moses gently took her by the arms. “Hey.”
    “Let go of me.” She tried to squirm out of his grasp.
    “Hey. Do you remember who I am? The Amish man who can’t stop kissing you?”
    “Moses. I don’t have time for—”
    “ Ich kann ohne dich nicht leben —I can’t live without you.”
    “What?”
    “You heard me.” Moses kissed each of her eyes. “I’d sooner give up my air or my arms.”
    “Don’t talk crazy.”
    “I mean it. Ich schatze dich —I cherish you.”
    She sank against him. “How am I supposed to stay in a sulk when you say such things?”
    “Does this mean I can have another milking kiss?”
    “You can have a dozen.”
    The first kiss seemed to last forever. Becky felt light-headed and considered sitting back down on her stool. But she wanted the other kisses, and she knew they would both be called in for breakfast very soon. So she let him take her whole weight as they started the second kiss.
    “This is like flying for me,” he murmured after the second one.
    “Me too.”
    They both heard the car in the middle of the third kiss and broke apart to ask the same question. Who is driving a motorcar to the door at six in the morning?
    They came out of the barn together as car doors slammed. Two men in suits and hats left the black car with whitewalls in the farmyard and walked up the steps to the porch. Jude was standing in the doorway.
    “Good morning, gentlemen,” he greeted them. “How can I help you?”
    The taller man in a gray suit and hat and with an equally gray face showed him a badge. “Good morning. We’re looking for Mr. and Mrs. Jude and Lyyndaya Whetstone.”
    “I am Jude Whetstone.”
    “Agent Hal