“You best get up, Whitney,” Bethany advised, shaking her shoulder a little. Whitney groaned and muttered something unintelligible under her breath while she turned onto her stomach. Bethany grinned and shook her once more. “Come on now, Whitney. It’s morning. I’ve been in here three times already and Papa’s getting a little irritated.”

Whitney finally drew herself from her dreams enough to comprehend Bethany’s words. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, “Sorry.”

Bethany raised a brow, “How late did you stay up last night?”

“I’m not even sure,” Whitney replied as she stood up and stretched her spine. “I stayed up a while writing.”

“You need to start getting some more sleep,” Bethany replied. “You look terrible.”

“Gee, thanks.”

She laughed, “I didn’t mean it like that. It just seems as if you’re wearing yourself out. Take a few days off; it won’t hurt anything. Maybe ask to hit the hay early tonight. It’s Sunday anyway so we won’t have many chores – just the necessities.”

Whitney frowned as she went to the dresser and brushed through her knotted hair. She didn’t know how she managed to mess up ten inches of hair so much during the night. “If this were an actual, full-length immersion,” Whitney started, “I’d have time to take a few days off. I only have a few months before I have to go back to school, so there’s no time. I need to get as much done as possible.”

Bethany crossed her arms, “And how long is an ‘actual, full-length’ immersion?”

“Around two or three years,” Whitney answered, setting aside the brush and taking one of her black formal dresses out of the closet. “Maybe even longer depending on what you’re studying.”

Bethany frowned slightly. It seemed like there was no getting through to her. She was trying to do everything, field work in addition to farm work, with little to no sleep. She was going to crash sooner or later. There’s no use arguing about it now, Bethany reasoned. “Well,” she turned to leave the room so her host sister could dress in privacy, “just try to hurry. We’ve got to head out for church and Papa’s a little testy.”

“When isn’t he?” Whitney muttered once the door was closed. He made a mockery of her every time she messed up, even if it was just sleeping in a little late. Even Mrs. Kessler’s comforting words behind his back her weren’t helping much now. She tried to do all her chores correctly and purposefully avoided him if at all possible, which wasn’t too often since the family worked so closely together.

Whitney drug herself from her thoughts and started to dress quickly, her hair being the most difficult. She had learned from watching Mrs. Kessler, however, and was at least able to pull it up. Whether or not it looked decent was another matter entirely. She threw her kapp on and shoved the few strands of hair that weren’t staying into place under it. Instinctively, she turned, looking for a mirror before frowning. If there was one thing she wished she could have stowed away in her bag, it would have been a compact. With a quiet half-sigh, half-yawn, she grabbed her field notes and made her way downstairs, practically running.

As she turned the corner which led into the living room, she almost bumped into Mrs. Kessler. “Oh, there you are. I was about to come up and check on you.” After a few days in bed, Mrs. Kessler had made a full recovery and was now back on her feet and working just as much as she had before without any complaints. As usual, however, she was more worried about everyone else than herself. Her smile faded a bit as she looked at her host daughter, “Are you feeling well, dear? You don’t look like yourself.”

Whitney managed a smile as she yawned once more, “Just a little tired, I guess.”

“Jah, Beth told me you didn’t get much sleep. You really must try to work during the day. We could always give you a couple hours to yourself. After all, we finished the chores just fine before you came along,” she teased lightly.

“I’ll be fine,” Whitney assured. “I might get to bed early tonight, though, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course not,” Mrs. Kessler replied. “Now come, the buggy is almost hooked up. We’re going to be late if we don’t hustle.”

Whitney couldn’t count, or recall, exactly how many times she had heard that particular phrase within the two weeks she had spent in Autumn Knobs. The two joined Bethany and Annie just as Mr. Kessler finished looking up the horses. “Gut, you’re up,” he stated upon seeing the Englisher, “You already missed morning prayers, though. I thought we were going to have to leave without you for a minute.”

Whitney thought it best not to say anything she would regret, though she wished desperately to tell him exactly how much work and effort she was putting in to make the immersion work and that he was just making it more difficult for her. She held her tongue, however, and just offered a short, “I’m sorry,” while she climbed in the buggy after Annie.

“Whose home are we going to today?” Whitney asked once she was comfortably seated and the buggy was moving out of the drive.

“Mr. and Mrs. Mueller’s home,” Bethany replied without hesitation. “It’s just a few roads down, so it shouldn’t take too long to get there.” She offered her a small smile, “We should get there just in time, maybe even a few minutes before.”

Whitney nodded and busied herself by turning her gaze to the window. As silence reigned within the buggy, Whitney almost instantly felt her eyelids droop. It didn’t take but just a few minutes for her to drop off to sleep, her head leaning against the buggy window. Not but a second later did the wheel hit a particularly deep rut, jerking her awake and hitting her forehead against the glass.

“Ow,” she murmured, rubbing the soreness away. She then glanced out the window and noticed that they had apparently reached their destination. Nathaniel was guiding the old mares over to the field where the other buggies would be kept until after services were completed.

Bethany smiled slightly, having noticed her host sister hit her head and pull herself from her grogginess. “You really need to get some more sleep,” she commented as everyone filed out. “There’s no way you’re going to be able to stay awake through the sermon.”

Whitney shrugged and held her notes close to her. “I’ll manage.” The hit she had taken to her head had managed to stir her a bit. That and the sermon needed to be observed closely, especially since it was only her second. There would be other details that she would need to look out for that she could have missed from her first encounter, details that would need to be recorded, so at least she would have that to keep her hands and head busy while trying to decipher the sermon through the broken German she was learning with her workbook.

Bethany frowned but didn’t argue, just followed the other Autumn Knobs residents inside the Mueller home.

“We aren’t having the sermon outside?” Whitney asked, trying to squeeze through the many bodies that had managed to assemble in the living room. The house was a decent size, she noted, but with the many benches stuffed inside – in all rooms, too – she had no idea how everyone was going to fit, not to mention sit still together for several hours.

Bethany shook her head, “Nope.” Her eyes were scanning the throng and surroundings, trying to see if there was anywhere she could pitch in. She would have headed to the kitchen to help with the last minute meal preparations, but so many women crowded the kitchen that there was no possible way to push through. It was best to stay out of the way for the time being.

Whitney was still trying to digest the fact that they were all going to convene in the house, especially considering the heat. “But – but you said that when it was hot that we would have the sermon outside.” It sounded far more appealing than creating a sweat lodge out of the house.

Bethany turned to her, a brow raised, “Whitney, I know you were tired, but did you not catch sight of the storm clouds rolling in from the north? It’s as cloudy as can be outside. I don’t know about you, but I don’t particularly like my turkey soaked with rain.”

Whitney was speechless. She glanced out the nearby window and saw that the sky was indeed growing dark, despite the warm temperature. “I guess I do need to get some more sleep,” she muttered, a little embarrassed.

Bethany chuckled but sobered up some when she felt a hand on her arm. She turned and saw a blonde woman about her age smiling up at her, as she was a good five inches shorter. “Kristen!” she exclaimed, embracing her. “It’s so gut to see you! I missed you the Sunday before last.”

The other girl nodded in agreement. “I was trying to keep an eye out for you, but I was stowed away in the kitchen the majority of the time.”

“I bet your awful glad that the sermon wont be held at your home again for a gut while,” Bethany commented with a chuckle.

Again, Kristen nodded in agreement before turning her attention to Whitney for the first time. Her face brightened some, “You must be Whitney.”

Whitney wasn’t in the least surprised to find that she knew her by first name. At least it was better than being referred to as “the Englisher.” She mustered a tired smile. “That’s me.”

Bethany took over the rest of the introduction. “Whitney, this is my gut friend Kristen. We were practically attached at the hip growing up.”

Whitney held out a hand, “Nice to meet you.” She was taken aback when Kristen reached out to give her a friendly hug instead. After getting over the initial shock, Whitney half-heartedly returned the greeting.

“I’ve heard so much about you, even before the last sermon,” Kristen commented, pulling away. “I’m sure by now you’ve noticed that news tends to get around pretty quickly.” She turned to Bethany, “Which reminds me, is your mother feeling any better. I’ve been so worried. I would have come calling, but I didn’t know whether or not she was up for visitors.”

Bethany giggled a bit at her friend’s nervousness. “She’s doing fine. After a few days in bed, she said she was feeling as gut as new.”

Kristen grinned, eager for more information. “So is it true? Is your mother expecting another baby?” Her friend mirrored her smile as she nodded. Kristen clapped her hands in excitement. “Oh, how wonderful! I know she’s been wanting another one for a long while now. Let me know if there is anything I can do.”

Before any other conversation could be made between the three, the bishop and ministers assembled at the front of the living room and called the congregation to order. Whitney was amazed at how quickly the room fell silent. She and Bethany quickly found spots next to Kristen and Mrs. Kessler as the rest of the crowd squeezed into seats around them.

The service started as it had before, with everyone singing songs from the Asbund. Whitney stood with everyone else, but her notebook was in hand as she scribbled down the different songs that were sung. As Bethany had predicted, she started to feel drowsy, but it was nothing compared to how tired she got when they had all actually sat down and “listened” to the sermon. Try as she might to concentrate on her field notes, she would find herself nodding off to sleep, only to be gently elbowed awake by Bethany when her head started to nod.

It was nearly an hour into the service when the screen door opened and slammed shut. Most of the congregation didn’t take their eyes off the bishop, who was in mid-sentence, but Whitney involuntarily glanced over her shoulder. The Ronstadt family quietly filed into the living room, trying to draw as little attention to themselves as possible. Connor looked about as exhausted as Whitney felt and his younger siblings didn’t seem to be faring much better, either. As packed as the room was, a few others shifted in their seats and made room for the family. Whitney furrowed a brow, silently wondering what was wrong. From what she had been told, church was a big deal to both the Ronstadts and the community – they wouldn’t have been late unless something quite unexpected had happened.

Fortunately, the sermon ended about a half-hour early, just when it was growing impossible for Whitney to keep awake. As soon as the reverend had finished speaking, she was on her feet and stretching her back in the hopes that it would wake her up a bit. Mrs. Kessler, who had sat on her right, looked more concerned than ever. “Are you sure you’re feeling well?” she asked, for what seemed the tenth time. She even pressed her hand to her host daughter’s forehead, though she could hardly tell the would-be fever from the heat in general.

Whitney smiled, touched that the woman seemed to care so much. “I’m fine, Mrs. Kessler. Just tired.”

“Well, perhaps some lunch will help,” she replied. “We best get in line before it gets cold.”

Mrs. Kessler scurried off to the back of the lengthy line, no doubt hungry as she was eating for two. Whitney’s smile faded as she turned back toward Bethany and Kristen, “Did you see Connor and his family come in late?”

“Aye,” Bethany answered, gazing over at the family, who were waiting in line with almost everyone else. “I wonder if anything is wrong.”

Whitney followed her gaze, too. It crossed her mind to ask, but she thought it better to shy away from the subject. First of all, it wouldn’t be very becoming to come across as nosy. Second of all, it wasn’t any of her business.

Kristen broke the uneasy silence between them all, “Well, I’m sure that if it’s important enough, we’ll be told what’s going on. Come,” she headed toward the line, which was thankfully moving at a decent speed, “let’s eat. I’m starving.”

The other two followed behind, but at a distance. Bethany lowered her voice, “Why don’t you ask him what going on? I’m sure he’ll open up to you.”

“Because it would be rude,” Whitney replied quickly.

Bethany resisted the urge to roll her eyes. They both were curious, after all, “You don’t have to ask outright. Just beat around the bush a bit.”

Whitney sighed and faced her, her lips pursed in irritation, “And why should I be the one to ask? If you’re so interested, you ask yourself.” The last impression she wanted to make was that of a busy-body.

Bethany gave her a pointed look, a brow raised. “Because I know that you would like to be the one to strike up a conversation with him, especially after this past Sunday.”

“How many times do I have to tell you,” Whitney started, exasperated, “our relationship is clearly professional. He’s one of my best informants and I don’t want to compromise that bond.”

At that Bethany did roll her eyes but let the conversation drop nonetheless. Anyone would have to be blind not to see that something was blossoming between the two be it friendship or something more. What she was sure of, though, was that her host sister wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to talk to him at some point. “Alright,” she stated, “but when you do get ready to talk to him, I brought his hat, which you were too tired and rushed to remember this morning.”

Whitney gave her a rather surprised look but didn’t respond. Little was said between the two as they passed through the kitchen and filled their plates with foods that emanated the delicious aromas that had filled the house during the service. It wasn’t until Whitney had sat back down on one of the benches with her plate in her lap that she felt her stomach twist in hunger. She stabbed the turkey with her fork and immediately dug in, her manners not being in the forefront of her mind.

Bethany, who had sat down next to her and Kristen, chuckled. “It’s not going anywhere,” she reminded. “No need to rush.”

“I’m hungry. We didn’t have breakfast this morning.”

“You didn’t have breakfast,” she corrected. “But we did. We kept trying to wake you but you wouldn’t come down.”

Whitney shook her head. She couldn’t believe she had slept through breakfast and morning prayers. And, yet, she was still tired on top of everything! Before she could say anything in response, someone sat down on the bench across from the three. Whitney looked up, and despite how much she was loath to admit it, had hoped for a moment that it would be Connor. The man sitting across from them was one she had seen before, and had noted in the back of her mind, but had yet to be introduced to. He had always been too engrossed in conversation with Bethany.

As what seemed typical, the bubbly Kristen was the first to greet the newcomer. “Oh, hello, Eli. I didn’t see you before the sermon.”

He smiled before running a hand through his blonde hair, trying to get his longer strands out of his eyes. “I was out helping with all the horses.”

The two nodded, Bethany being the one who smiled at him. Whitney noted that he gave her a rather warm smile back, and she couldn’t help but grin herself. Now she would have something to hound Bethany with when she insisted that there was something going on between her and Connor.

More small conversation ensued while Whitney busied herself cleaning her plate. It was Kristen who brought up a rather interesting topic. “Do you plan on attending the Singing this coming Friday?”

Whitney jerked her gaze up from her plate. “Singing?” she echoed.

Bethany nodded, “Jah, it’s been on the calendar for the past couple of months. I’m surprised you hadn’t heard of it before now, really.”

“What is it?” she pressed, resisting the urge to grab for her notebook, idle beside her.

“It’s sort of like a social. We get together and catch up with the news and sing and dance,” Kristen answered, too quick for Bethany. “We don’t do it too often, so it tends to be a big deal with the youth.”

“How often is it planned?” Whitney continued, her anthropological demeanor seeming to take over at the moment.

She shrugged, chewing on some chow chow, “Depends. Usually only a handful of times per year, mostly in the warmer months. Since spring is spent planting and fall spent harvesting, summer is the prime time to have it held, as it gets too cold during the winter months. Of course, cool weather hasn’t stopped some of the Singings before.”

Whitney relented and sat aside her plate, taking up her notebook and pen. “What time do they tend to start? How long do they last?” Her pen was poised, ready to write down the answer.

After swallowing, she grinned over at her. “You know, you would probably understand it better if you attended. Are you?”

Naturally, Whitney’s interest was piqued, but she had to wonder if she would have the energy to attend such a function, especially if it were later at night. Despite her exhaustion, it was just too good an opportunity to pass up, especially since Singings were noted to happen so infrequently. “I suppose so, but I’ll probably just sit back and watch.”

“Whatever happened to ‘total immersion’?” Bethany asked, finishing up her own lunch.

“Total immersion?” Eli asked, having been listening passively to the conversation.

“It means she’s supposed to take part in everything and experience everything first-hand,” Bethany answered. She turned back toward her host sister, “But it seems to me that someone wants to cut corners.”

“Well, fine. I’ll dance a little, but I don’t know any of the words to your songs.”

“You’ll need a date,” Bethany added, casting her a sly, half-smile.

“So will you.”

“I have one already,” she replied, turning to Eli. “You’re coming, aren’t you?”

He nodded, giving her a warm smile. “I sure am. I’ve been looking forward to it for months.”

She turned back to Whitney, “So, who will you take?”

Whitney sighed, frustrated. Did she really have to bring up such a subject in front of her friends? “I’m going to the Singing to work, not to socialize.” There was a tone of finality in her voice that made Bethany drop the subject, at least for the time being. Whitney was sure that once they were alone again, it would rear its ugly head, however.

The four finished their plates and helped the rest of the community picked up the house a bit before the men headed back outside to hitch up the horses. Bethany and Whitney followed Annie and Mrs. Kessler back to their own buggy a few minutes later, after having gathered a few leftovers to take back to the house. As they crossed the yard, Whitney’s eyes scanned the group and managed to find Connor fixing up his own buggy. He seemed to be having trouble keeping his gelding under control.

“Here,” Bethany stated, grabbing Whitney’s hand and rushing her back to their own buggy. She dug through the back seat before extracting Connor’s hat. “This is your chance. Go ask him if he’d like to come to the Singing with you.”

Whitney rolled her eyes and snatched the hat from her hands. “You never stop, do you?” Bethany only offered a small, half-smile before gesturing her toward him. Whitney turned and headed back toward the Ronstadts.

When she got close enough, Whitney had to practically force herself to speak. “Hi, Connor.”

Connor, who had just finished buckling the last rein, smiled. As she had noticed before, he still seemed quite tired. “Hello, Whitney. How have you been?”

Whitney shrugged. “A bit tired, but I can’t complain otherwise.”

He chuckled, “I know what you mean. I was up late with Michael. He’s been sick recently, so it’s been even harder than usual getting everything done.”

Whitney handed his hat over and an apologetic look, “I’m sorry to hear that…I brought your hat back. though. You left it at the house last Sunday. I would have brought it over sooner, but things have just been so busy.”

“It’s no problem. Really,” he assured. “Thank you, though. I’ve been wondering where it was.” He tucked it on his head with a smile, then decided to change the subject. “And how have the notes been coming along? You said that you had been busy.”

Again, Whitney shrugged. “They’re coming along, I suppose.” I’ve been working hard enough…

“You mind if I sneak a peak?” he asked, gesturing toward her notebook.

Ordinarily, Whitney wouldn’t have let any other eyes read through her work. She’d learned within her first few anthropology classes that it was best to keep field notes to yourself, especially while the experiment was still ongoing. So far, Bethany was the only one who had managed to see the entries, and that was without her permission. She couldn’t bring herself to exactly tell him no, though, and handed the notebook over.

Connor gently flipped through the pages, which had notes scribbled on both the front and back of the pages. Arrows were occasionally pointing to other facts and other words were printed out in the margins. Whitney hadn’t noticed how unorganized her pages were until he started to read through them. “I’m afraid the organization is a bit unorthodox,” she stated, biting her lower lip. “I haven’t quite figured out how I’m going to start my thesis, so I’m trying to write whatever comes to mind.”

“It looks fascinating,” Connor noted, handing them back. “Now if only I can understand half of the terms.”

Whitney chuckled slightly. “They get easier when you study them for three or four years.”

Connor laughed, “I suppose they would. Are you anywhere close to starting?”

“I still have quite a bit to add. I think the upcoming Singing will give me some important information to work with.”

He nodded, “Aye.” Before he could continue, however, Minister Koenig and the bishop approached and addressed him.

“I hate to interrupt, Connor,” Ishmael stated, “but do you think I could have a quick word?”

Connor gave Whitney an apologetic look. “Don’t worry,” Whitney replied. “I need to get going anyway. The Kessler’s are probably waiting for me.” All three men tipped their hats as she walked away, but she couldn’t resist a discreet glance over her shoulder. The sight troubled her. Connor’s smile had disappeared as he listened to what the bishop had to say, and clearly the news wasn’t good.

Whitney scurried off toward the Kessler’s buggy and climbed in. Bethany was quick to interrogate her, as she had been watching from a distance the whole time. “So, what happened?”

Whitney frowned slightly, “Nothing much really. He thanked me for returning the hat then asked how my research was going.”

“And what about the Singing?”

Whitney shrugged. “I didn’t get to ask him about it. Minister Koenig and the bishop came by and started to talk to him. It didn’t look like good news.”

Bethany frowned, too. “I wonder if it has anything to do with him being late to the service this morning.”

“Well, he said that Michael had been sick recently. Perhaps that’s why they had a hard time getting here before the sermon started.” Whitney glanced out of the side window as the buggy started to pull away. Though she was sure there was a logical reason as to why the two most influential men in Autumn Knobs wanted to speak with Connor, she still couldn’t get his frown out of her mind’s eye. It was obvious something was wrong; she just hoped that it wasn’t too bad of news.