This was one of the earliest weddings of the season, and intentionally so, according to Rachel. As the youngest of four children, Anna had grown tired of being the last of everything, so she wanted to be among the first of the courting couples to marry this year. Rachel was Anna’s best friend and had been talking about this event for weeks.
At least she hadn’t used it as an opportunity to put pressure on me, I thought as Jake and I lifted down another bench from the wagon, though she certainly had every right to. Rachel and I had been a couple for years, long enough for her—and everyone else, for that matter—to assume we, too, would end up married.
Though we hadn’t begun courting until we were in our teens, we’d been friends long before that. I first met Rachel when I was ten and she was nine. She had come from Ohio after her grandfather died and her parents moved to Lancaster County to take over his dairy farm. Rachel was the youngest of three daughters—all honey-brunettes with a sprinkling of freckles—but she was by far the prettiest. Her eyes were a vivid blue, easily rivaling the bluest cornflower ever to sprout.
When she first moved here, she was just a new girl to tease—all in good fun, of course. Jake and I couldn’t resist, and we told her all sorts of tall tales, the biggest being that he and I were twins. Though we looked almost nothing alike, she believed us until she learned that he was a Miller and I an Anderson.
“How can you be twins if you have different last names?” she’d asked one day during her second week there.
“That’s so people can tell us apart,” Jake replied with a perfect deadpan.
After a long moment, her eyes narrowed, and then she turned on her heel without a word and marched off to speak to the teacher, knowing we were pulling her leg and ready to settle the matter once and for all.
“Tyler?” For the second time today, Jake’s voice pulled me out of a memory.
“Huh?” I asked, blinking.
He was lifting down his end of the final bench, waiting for me to do the same. “I said, ‘What’s going on?’ ”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re a million miles away. What gives? You okay?”
“Of course. I’m fine.” Or I would be if he would mind his own business.
We carried the last bench into the house together and slid it into place. After that, Sam and Gideon went out to handle some other chore, leaving Jake and me to finish up. We both looked around at the room, transformed now from a living area to a church, and began to shift things a bit to allow a little more leg room between rows.
Nearby, the large kitchen area was bustling with women, including Anna and her mother and various relatives, helping to prepare the wedding feast. If I’d been in there with them, I would have been stepping on people’s toes, bumping into their backs, and generally making a big mess, but they worked together seamlessly, thanks to years of practice.
“I know what it is,” Jake said suddenly, pausing to look my way as I was tugging a bench into place.
“What what is?”
He glanced toward the kitchen before lowering his voice so only I could hear. “Why you’re so nervous and distracted today. It’s because you know that this time next year we’ll be slinging benches around for your wedding.”
He laughed.
I didn’t.
“Oh, come on, Tyler,” he prodded in a soft voice. “I don’t know why you’re not already married. And neither does anyone else.”
I glared at him, gesturing toward the kitchen and the women who might overhear his words.
“I’m serious!” he said, moving closer now so he could speak even more softly. “You’re getting up in years, you know?”
“I’m twenty-three.”
“Which is high time to take that next step. And you’ll never find a better match for you than Rachel.”
Now it was my turn to pause. Why didn’t he get it? I spoke through gritted teeth, telling him I was not going to discuss it with him, but he kept talking as if he hadn’t even heard me.
“You know she’s perfect for you. She thinks you’re wonderful.” He put the emphasis on “she,” meaning, of course, that Rachel thought it even if no one else did.
“Funny,” I snapped.
Jake moved to the end of the row. “It’s time to take that next step, buddy, just like Tobias will today with Anna. I know it and you know it. Most of all, Rachel knows it.”
Unsure how to reply, I leaned down and made one final shift, intentionally pushing the bench at Jake’s knees. He yelped as he tried to avoid the impact.
“Sorry,” I said in a loud voice, glancing toward the kitchen and giving an “everything’s okay here” wave to the two women who had turned to look. “Guess I didn’t see your legs there, buddy. Must need to get my eyes checked.”
“Get your brain checked, you mean.” Jake sat down to rub his knee and whispered, “I’m only saying what you need to hear.”
“No,” I hissed, “you’re only saying a bunch of stuff that’s none of your business.”