A Place of Peace (24 page)

“Gut nacht.”
He watched her head up the steps of the porch and wave before disappearing into the house.

While he drove home, his thoughts were stuck on Miriam. He wondered about her visit to Indiana and when she would return. He thought about her baptism. Would she meet a thoughtful and understanding Amish man after she was a member of the church? Would she marry this unnamed man and have a large family?

The thought caused his stomach to tighten.

Why should he care about Miriam’s future?

Because it was Lilly who ruined their future together, not Miriam. Their future was stolen—no, commandeered—by lies.

But then again, his lies to Naomi were no better.

He quickly dismissed that thought. To him, faithfulness to a promise was more important than truthfulness.

Another question struck him: Was God giving them a second chance by inspiring Miriam to come back to the community and join the church?

The question hovered in Timothy’s mind as his mother’s kitchen came into view. The lantern glowed in her window, signaling she was still awake and probably cleaning up from supper. He steered his horse toward the house, then dismounted and tethered the horse to the hitching post out front.

He climbed up to the back porch and stepped into the kitchen, finding his parents chatting at the table.

“Timothy,” Eli said. “What brings you back here?”

“Just took Naomi home.” Timothy tossed his straw hat onto the peg by the door. “I saw your light on and thought I’d stop in. Everyone left?”

“Ya.”
Elizabeth patted the chair next to her. “Sit. You look like the weight of the world is on your shoulders. What’s troubling you?”

Timothy lowered himself into the chair. “I’m wondering if I made the right decision with Naomi.”

“What do you mean?” Elizabeth’s eyes were full of concern. “Marriage?”

In an effort to avoid their shocked stares, Timothy traced a pattern in the top of the table Eli had built as a wedding gift for Elizabeth. “How do you know if it’s right?”

Eli chuckled. “Cold feet, eh?”

Frowning, Timothy met his gaze. “It feels like more than that. I don’t think I’d feel cold feet in my heart.”

Elizabeth squeezed his shoulder. “Naomi is a
wunderbaar maedel.
She’ll make a
wunderbaar fraa
for you.”

“I don’t doubt that. She’s a
wunderbaar
friend. I trust her completely, but I doubt how I feel.” He pointed to his chest. “How do I know if she’s right for me?”

Elizabeth smiled. “Don’t put so much pressure on yourself. Marriage is a big adjustment. Your doubts will disappear when the wedding is over, and you’re settled in your home together.”

Timothy grimaced. His mother was making it sound so simplistic, but his doubts ran deep into his soul.

Eli’s smile faded. “What’s really bothering you?”

“I feel like I should be more excited about the wedding and about having her with me at home. I even talked to Daniel about it, and he said he was ecstatic before marrying Rebecca.” He slumped back in the chair and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I’m really beginning to think I made a mistake. Everyone was pressuring me to get married. Beth Anne gave me a lecture about stringing Naomi along. I felt like I had to do it or let Naomi go. Now that it’s done, I keep thinking I moved too fast.”

Elizabeth’s expression was pensive. “Is this about Miriam?”

Caught red-handed.

Timothy couldn’t respond.

“You’ve moved on with your life, and you’re marrying Naomi, who loves you with all her heart. I can see the love shining in her eyes when she’s with you. Let your doubts about her disappear and concentrate on your future with your bride-to-be.” Elizabeth rose and crossed the kitchen. “Would you like a drink?”

“
Ya.
Danki.”
Timothy sat up straighter. “If I’ve truly moved on, then how come I can’t get Miriam out of my head?”

“It’s only natural.” Elizabeth poured a glass of ice water and brought it to the table. “You finally reconnected with her after all those years. You’ll get over her. Before you know it, you won’t think twice when you see her at the bakery. She’ll just be another baker.”

I doubt that.

“It feels wrong to be thinking of Miriam when I should be thinking of my future with Naomi. How do I turn off those thoughts?” Timothy sipped his water and then glanced at his father, hoping for his usual words of wisdom.

“You love Miriam?” Eli asked.

Timothy opened his mouth, but no words escaped.

Elizabeth gave Timothy’s hand a reassuring pat. “Your love for Naomi will grow and mature with time. You’re friends now, but the best marriages grow from friendship.” She smiled at Eli. “Our love started out as a friendship.”

Timothy watched the smiles passing between his parents and wondered if he’d ever have that with Naomi.

“Naomi deserves someone who knows for certain that he really loves her.” The words surprised Timothy when they left his lips.

“You’re worried about being a
gut
husband, and you will be,” Elizabeth insisted. “You’re
gut,
honest, and loyal, just like your
dat.
Believe in yourself, Timothy. I believe in you.”

“It’s not that.” Timothy stared at the water swirling in his glass.

“Miriam and you weren’t a good combination. It was rocky from the start.”

His gaze snapped to hers. “Why do you say that?”

“It’s just a feeling I had.” Elizabeth shrugged. “Miriam always seemed to want other things. She didn’t want to live out on this farm. She always talked about being a nurse, and then she left you heartbroken.”

Resentment bubbled up inside him. “We were young. Besides, it was Lilly who broke us up. She told me Miriam was cheating on me, and she told Miriam I was cheating on her. If we were broken up by a lie, then who is to say that we weren’t meant to be together?”

“Beth Anne and I only meant for you to work through your feelings for Miriam when we encouraged you to talk to her.” His mother’s expression softened, and she touched Timothy’s arm. “You belong with Naomi, and you’ve made a promise to her. Let Miriam’s memory go.”

“I can’t control the thoughts in my head,” he said. He sipped his drink and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was nearly eight-thirty. “I reckon I should head home. It’s getting late.” Gulping down the rest of the drink, he stood and placed the empty glass in the sink.
“Danki
for the drink. I’ll see you tomorrow.
Gut nacht.”

“Gut nacht,”
Elizabeth called.

Timothy stepped out onto the porch and inhaled the sweet night air. He glanced toward his house and tried to imagine sitting out on his own porch late at night with Naomi by his side, humming to herself.

The image felt forced, not genuine.

A door slammed, and Eli sidled up to him, lantern in hand. “Let’s take the horse to the barn.”

Timothy and Eli walked in silence to the barn. After putting up the horse and buggy, they stood in the doorway, gazing at the house.

“Your
mamm
means well,” Eli said, breaking the heavy silence. “She thinks she knows what’s best for our
kinner.
She only wants you to be
froh.
“

Timothy leaned against the door frame. “I know.”

“But you need to do what feels right to you.” His father’s expression was solemn. “Only you know what’s in your heart.”

Timothy studied Eli’s tired eyes. “Did you know it was right when you married
Mamm?”

A grin spread on Eli’s face. “I was sure as the sunrise. Your
mamm
was my best friend. I’d known her since we were
kinner,
and our friendship grew to so much more.”

“So you had no doubts at all?”

Eli shrugged. “I was
naerfich,
but I had no doubts. I knew I wanted to build a life with her.”

Timothy stared down the lane to his dark house. “I need a sign. I need to know I’m doing the right thing.”

Eli patted his shoulder. “You’ll know. God will tell you. Just listen with your heart.”

Timothy blew out a frustrated sigh.
“Gut nacht.”

“See you tomorrow,” Eli said, locking the barn.
“Gut nacht.”

Timothy stalked down the lane toward his house with Eli’s words echoing in his mind. He hoped he’d be listening when God revealed the answer to him.

M
iriam knelt on the floor of her bedroom in the apartment and closed up another box. She snatched a black marker and scrawled “DONATE” across the lid and then pushed the box against the wall, lining it up next to six other boxes ready for the local charities. She glanced around the small room and found most of it bare.

Almost done.

“Wow,” Abby said, leaning on the door frame. “Looks like it did when you moved in.” She nudged one of the boxes with the toe of her loafer. “Boy, you’ve got an awful lot to donate. Are you taking anything to Pennsylvania?”

“Not much.” Miriam sat on the floor and crossed her legs. “Those boxes have my clothes, shoes, CDs, and DVDs. You know, stuff I can’t wear or listen to.” She nodded toward the closet. “My nicer clothes are in there. I thought you might like to look through them.”

Abby crossed to the closet and examined the contents. Fishing out a red dress, she held it in front of herself and turned toward the full-length mirror. “This is nice.” She faced Miriam and frowned. “You sure you want to do this?”

“
Ya,
I am. I’ve done a lot of soul-searching, and that’s where I belong.” Miriam pulled a shoebox out from under her bed and gasped. “Oh my gosh. I’d forgotten about this.”

“What is it?” Abby asked, leafing through the clothes in the closet.

“These are some mementos I’d brought from Gordonville.” She pulled out a couple of letters from Hannah and a rock Gerald had brought back from the creek. She moved around a few more letters and came to an envelope that caused her heart to thump in her chest.

Lifting it, she held her breath. “Miriam” was written in perfect script across the front. She opened it, and dried petals from a daisy, her favorite flower, fell like crumbs onto her lap as she opened the letter, which read:

My dearest Miriam,

Miriam wiped a tear and read it again.

“What do you have there?” Abby stepped over to her with a black skirt and purple blouse slung over her arm.

“A letter.” Miriam folded it and stuffed it along with the dried petals into the envelope, hoping to avoid another lecture. “Nothing important.”

“Apparently it
is
important.” Abby tossed the clothes onto the bed and reached for the envelope. “Give it here.”

Miriam stuffed it back into the box. “It’s personal.” She placed the shoebox into the bottom of an empty large packing box.

“From Timothy, huh?” Abby shook her head and stepped back to the closet. “You need to let that one go.”

If only I could …

Miriam placed a few books into the packing box.

“What time does your train leave tomorrow?” Abby asked.

“Ten,” Miriam said, filling the box with more books and letters.

“I guess Lauren got your car today?”

“Ya. She brought the check by this evening. Her daughter is thrilled.” Miriam opened the bottom drawer in her bureau and sifted through photo albums and books.

“I’m really going to miss you,” Abby said.

Miriam met her sad gaze. “We’ll keep in touch. I promise.”

Abby held up an armful of clothes. “I’ll take these if you don’t want them.”

Miriam nodded. “Enjoy them.”

While Abby moved the clothes into her closet, Miriam finished packing up the last of the items in her room. Glancing at the clock, she found it was close to one in the morning. She said good night to Abby, took a quick shower, and then fell into bed, dreaming of what her life would be like back home in Gordonville.

“I guess this is it, Cousin,” Abby said, pulling Miriam into a hug while they stood in the train station the following morning. “You’re going to abandon me.”

Miriam sniffed back tears. “Not abandoning. Just starting a new life. We’ll have to visit each other and write letters.”

“Yeah.” Abby swiped her hand across her wet cheeks. “You better go or you’ll miss your train.”

Miriam squeezed Abby’s arm and then hoisted her purse onto her shoulder. “You behave.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Abby chuckled and sniffed back more tears. “You take care of yourself. And if you change your mind, you’re always welcome back at my apartment.”

“Thanks, but I’m sure I won’t change my mind.” Miriam gave her one last hug. “Thanks for being my best friend.”

“No,” Abby whispered in her ear. “Thank
you.”

Stepping away, Miriam gave a wave and then rushed to the gate for her train. Once she was settled in her seat, Miriam sat back and closed her eyes. She hoped she was making the right choice, and she asked God to guide her in her new life.

Miriam stepped into the chaotic concourse of the Lancaster station, wheeling her suitcase behind her. She’d shipped her boxes and brought only her essentials with her on the train. She glanced across at the overhead signs, searching for the taxi area.

Weaving through the knot of passengers, she moved toward the exit and stopped dead in her tracks when she spotted Hannah and Lilly waving and grinning while running toward her.

“We found you!” Hannah wrapped her arms around Miriam’s neck. “We were worried we missed you and you already got a taxi home.”