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T HE FOLLOWING MORNING , BEFORE R OSA and Anthony headed downstairs for breakfast, she informed him that they would be expected to attend church with her family today.

Anthony’s dark eyebrows shot up. “Say what?”

“My folks expect the whole family to go, and since they believe we are married …”

He rolled his eyes. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve entered a church building?”

“Well, no, but …”

“I was around eight when my grandma dressed me up one Sunday while I was staying with her. Then she took me to church, and I hated it, so she never got me to go there with her again. Furthermore, I don’t have a suit or tie to wear, and I don’t think I’d be able to sit for a whole hour and listen to some dry preacher go on and on about things I couldn’t care less about. ”

Rosa wondered if she should prepare Anthony by telling him that their worship services were often held in a barn or someone’s shop, and it would be for three hours, not one, but she decided against saying anything for now.

She also didn’t mention the seating arrangement or the type of benches they would sit upon.

If her pretend husband knew those things, Rosa was sure he would refuse to go, so it was best to wait until they arrived and let him find out all the details for himself.

Their lengthy songs found in the Ausbund hymnal would most likely be another thing Anthony wouldn’t care for, in addition to listening to the sermons preached in German.

Rosa moved across the room, opened her closet door, and took out one of her Plain Amish dresses—a black dress, with no frills whatsoever, not even any buttons or snaps. The bodice was held together by enough straight pins to keep it modestly closed.

Anthony’s eyes widened. “What are you gonna do with that?”

“I’m going to wear it, along with a white cape, apron, and head covering. Oh, and I’ll also be wearing black shoes and stockings.”

“To church?”

“Yes. My folks—especially my dad, will expect me to be dressed in the appropriate attire.”

He looked down at the pair of jeans he’d put on soon after getting up this morning. “What about me? Do I have to borrow some of your father’s clothes, which I’m sure would be too big for me, in order to attend church with you?”

She shook her head. “Of course not. You’re English and will be seen as a visitor, so you can just wear a pair of dressy slacks and a nice button-down shirt.”

“What about my leather jacket? Can I wear that too?”

“Umm … sure, I guess so. It’s a chilly fall day, so you’ll probably need it—at least while you’re outside.”

“What will you wear to keep warm?” he questioned.

Rosa reached into the closet again and pulled out a black woolen shawl, which she wrapped around her shoulders. “Lovely, isn’t it?”

Anthony gave her a crooked grin. “Yeah, straight from Paris.”

“Absolutely!” Rosa twirled like a dancer she’d seen on the TV at the home where her baby had been conceived. A sudden pang of nausea swirled through her belly, and she took a few deep breaths, hoping she wouldn’t throw up.

Anthony stepped forward and clasped her arms. “Are you okay? Your face looks kind of pale all of a sudden.”

“I–I’ll be fine. Just feeling a little nausea right now.”

“Can you take something for it?”

Rosa heard the concern in his voice, and she appreciated it.

No doubt he would make some woman a good husband someday.

He’d never really said, but maybe Anthony had a serious girlfriend waiting in New York for him, and for all Rosa knew, they might even be engaged.

“If the sick feeling doesn’t go away soon, I’ll drink a cup of mint tea or nibble on a few saltine crackers,” she responded.

“In fact, I’ll take some to church and keep them in my purse, just in case. ”

“If you’re not feeling well, maybe you should stay home today,” Anthony suggested. “I’m sure your parents would understand. And I’ll remain here with you,” he quickly added.

Rosa shook her head. “Not my father. A family member would have to be really sick before he would look favorably at them missing church.” She placed one hand against her stomach.

“Besides, if I’m going to have the privilege of remaining here with my family and expecting them to help me raise this baby, then I need to gain my father’s approval. ”

“Guess that makes sense, but shouldn’t it be more about your welfare and that of the unborn child than trying to please your dad?”

“Of course I am concerned for my baby, which is why I must keep the peace around here. If you were actually a part of my family, you’d understand.

” Rosa pointed to the closet. “Now please choose some clothes to wear and go change in the bathroom while I put on my Amish clothes and try to put my hair in a bun so I can slip my head covering on. We’ll be leaving for church soon, and I don’t want to be late. ”

“Okay, whatever you say,” Anthony called over his shoulder as he pulled out some clothes before going out the door.

“This day can’t be over soon enough,” Rosa muttered as she sank onto the end of her bed.

Although her nausea had subsided a bit, which should have lessened her nerves, Rosa feared that after attending their church service this morning, Anthony might hop in his car and head straight back to New York.

Anthony’s back muscles tightened as he struggled to find a comfortable position on the backless wooden bench he’d been directed to sit on over an hour ago inside this quaint-looking barn where the odor of straw and horseflesh permeated the air.

Was this really the biggest or best building the group of Amish people could find to hold their service today?

And for goodness’ sake, why did the men sit on the opposite side of the room from the women?

Apparently they believed in segregating the congregation, but with the women sitting directly across from the men, Anthony could see Rosa sitting between her two sisters.

Her blank expression and continued yawning indicated that she was either tired or bored.

He figured it was probably the latter, since that was certainly the case for him.

On top of that, Anthony felt like a sore thumb, sitting here among these strangers, all dressed pretty much alike.

He figured every eye must be on him, since his appearance didn’t fit in with the rest of them here.

Coming into the building, he’d noticed lots of folks staring at him.

No doubt they all wondered about the stranger who had invaded their space.

Perhaps some in the congregation had already heard that Rosa Petersheim had returned home—and with a husband who wasn’t one of them.

He glanced at his watch, which also set him apart, since none of the Amish people he’d seen wore any kind of jewelry.

The songs the people had been singing during this hour were slow and drawn out.

There was, however, a distinct blending of voices in rich tones that he found to be quite interesting.

Anthony wished he could understand the words.

One thing he did understand, however, was that he could never be Amish.

Besides the language barrier, horse-and-buggy transportation, and Plain clothing worn by both the men and women, it would be hard to give up the use of electricity along with the modern conveniences such as television, air-conditioning, and computer games—although Anthony rarely watched TV or played games.

His world involved trying out new recipes to offer the customers who ate at his parents’

restaurant and riding his motorcycle on days when he wasn’t working.

A sense of relief flooded Anthony when the singing finally ended, but the building had become too warm from all the body heat, and he felt a need to take off his jacket.

The problem was, in order to do so, he would need to stand up, because two young Amish men were sitting so close to Anthony that their shoulders pressed against his.

I can’t stand up, he told himself. Everyone would be watching me, and I’d feel like a bug under a microscope. Guess I’ll just have to sweat it out till this church service is finally over and I can go outside.

When everyone stood for the reading of scripture, Rosa chanced a peek at Anthony.

She felt sorry for him as he rubbed his hands down the sides of his trousers while turning his head from side to side.

The poor guy was probably bored and stiff from sitting for over an hour on the unyielding bench.

She certainly couldn’t blame him for that.

In the two years Rosa had been gone, she’d nearly forgotten how tired she used to get during the three-hour services that took place every other Sunday in a different church member’s home or outbuilding.

She had always looked forward to the noon meal afterward, though, when she could sit with and visit other girls her age.

Rosa thought about her friend Ada and wondered if she might be here today.

Perhaps Ada could be sitting a row or two behind her, or maybe she was visiting Ephraim’s church.

Rosa was tempted to turn around, but she squelched the desire and kept her focus straight ahead.

There was no point in drawing attention to herself.

A good many people had already looked at her strangely when she’d walked toward the barn with Anthony beside her.

Although no one had said anything to her, there’d been lots of quizzical stares, and a few folks had made eye contact and then quickly looked away.