A Simple Winter: A Seasons of Lancaster Novel by Rosalind Lauer Read Free Book Online

tossing pebbles at something on the side.
    Waiting to tease me for crying
, Simon thought. Steeling himself, he straightened his hat and walked right up to them.
    “Good morning,” he said in Pennsylvania Dutch.
    To Simon’s surprise, they had no criticism for his tears. Maybe he’d hidden himself well behind Jonah’s tall silhouette.
    “Target practice,” Eli said, casting a pebble. “I’ve hit that fallen branch four times. John only got it once.”
    “You try,” John said.
    Simon stared at the fallen branch, but didn’t answer. Mamm used to say that contests were arranged to make the winner look better. “It’s best not to participate in competitions,” she once told him.
    “Kumm,” Jonah said, beckoning the three boys. “No time for dawdling.”
    Simon felt relieved when John dropped his handful of pebbles and brushed the dirt from his hands. They continued up the hill while Eli took a few more shots.
    “Wait for me!” Eli ran to catch up. By the time he reached the boys, he was breathing heavy. “Simon, I forgot to ask you. Will you be going in with the boys today?”
    One of the many questions Simon dreaded. Eli had been hounding him with it ever since Simon’s ninth birthday had approached. He glanced over at Eli, the boy’s mouth a pink slash against his pale, round face. Did Eli Zook know how much his question bothered Simon?
    Simon shook his head no, letting his eyes meet the harsh question in Eli’s eyes.
    “No? What is going on?” Eli spread his arms wide, as if dumbfounded. “Don’t tell me you still haven’t learned the words to the Loblied, like your mamm wanted.”
    Simon didn’t answer, but waited for the sting of guilt and embarrassment to fade. He wanted to tell Eli how much he sounded like an old man. He wanted Eli and John and all the boys his age to leave him alone and stop talking about his mamm.
    “He just turned nine,” John pointed out. “And the Loblied is hard to memorize. Twenty-eight lines!” He clapped a hand to the top of his hat, leaving a pale dust print. “I’m still learning it.”
    “But you walk in with the boys,” Eli told his brother. “Come on, Simon. Today you walk in with us. You can’t be sitting with the women and babies forever.”
    Ach, but that’s what I want to do
, Simon thought. He liked walking into worship services hidden between his sisters’ skirts. He felt safe coming in with Mary and Sadie and the little ones. Why did that have to change?
    Simon’s boots dragged up the dirt hill as he watched Adam’s carriage disappear around a bend up ahead. Next time, he would stay inside, all the way to the Sunday service. He would talk to Adam about it. His oldest brother would understand.
    From his pocket Eli took a few stray pebbles and made a game of bouncing them over the iced pond at the edge of Nate and Betsy’s farm. John began searching for scattered stones to give it a try, and Simon retreated to his own thoughts, glad that the boys were distracted.
    Overhead the winter clouds broke, and sunlight gleamed on the windows of the house, which had been thoroughly cleaned yesterday in preparation for the Sunday meeting. Simon himself had helped haul wash water so that the floors could be wiped down before the benches were set up in rows, one side for men, the other for women.
    Squinting at the sunburst, he sighed quietly as the tightness drained from his chest. The preaching service would begin soon, and once the first hymn started he usually found some peace, lulled by the familiar Hochdeutsch language of the service.
    His step lightened as the words to the hymn rose in his heart.
    O Gott Vater, wir loben Dich und deine Güte preisen; Dass du uns O Herr gnädichlich …
    Ya, he knew the Loblied. All twenty-eight lines. Sometimes he ran the song through his head when he needed to quiet the fear in his racing heart. But he wasn’t ready to admit that he knew the hymn. For now, it was a secret he shared only with God, a secret to hold