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Eben and I hurried again to the beach. There, we talked and waded into the ocean up to our knees--in our Plain clothes, of all things. And later, after the sun and wind dried us off some, we rented a bicycle built for two and rode up and down the boardwalk, the warm air on our faces.

That evening and the next, we met at sunset, laughing together and talking about whatever popped into our heads until, wonder of wonders, Eben reached for my hand! My heart beat so wildly, I wondered if he sensed it.

But all too soon, we had to part ways, our private time together at an end. Yet our meeting on the beach--as romantic and special as it was--birthed a renewed hope in me. After all, it was nearly a blight on any Amish girl to still be single at my age. Ach, but Eben Troyer had surely changed all of that. Surely he had...
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