A Promise for Miriam (20 page)

“Your
pappi
Abel started with a small place, worked hard, and added on as
Gotte
provided. Because I was the oldest, I knew it would come to me. Maybe that was why I wasn’t sure I wanted it.”

Miriam looked at him in surprise.

“One indecision led to another.” Joshua removed his hat and dusted some dirt from the top. “I couldn’t decide if I wanted the farm, so when I met your
mamm
, even when I knew I had feelings for her, I couldn’t decide if I wanted her and the responsibilities of
kinner
. I didn’t know what to do about any of it.”

“You had doubts about
mamm
?”

“Not so much. Not about her. My doubts were more about myself.”

“I’ve never heard any of this before.”

Joshua’s look was tender. It reminded her of the way she knew she looked at a student who still had much to learn. “Maybe you never needed to.”

Miriam sank her hand deep into the clean shavings. “What changed?”

“Nothing, right away. One of the ministers in our district was putting a group together to move to Cashton, and suddenly I had a way out.”

“Not exactly a
rumspringa
.”

“No. I wouldn’t say I was rebelling as much as I was looking for something I couldn’t put my finger on, something I wouldn’t have recognized if I’d bumped into it. I fell in love with the land here as soon as I saw it. Work was hard, winters hard, a smaller community… we struggled at first.” Joshua stared down at his hat. As he turned the brim round and round in his fingers, Miriam noticed the wrinkles and sun spots on his skin. It seemed to her he was aging before her eyes, but only last year he’d been such a young man. Why couldn’t everything stay the same? She wasn’t ready for what came next.

“Everything here was as I could have hoped for, and more. Still, the restlessness hadn’t gone away. I don’t suppose it ever would have. I heard another group was forming, ready to push on north and west. I considered joining them and selling this place.”

“Selling it?”

“
Ya
. Then your
grossdaddi
died and I was called home for the funeral.”

“That must have been a shock.”

“It was. He wasn’t an old man, and I’d always pictured him living well into his nineties. He’d been bringing in the crops and had an accident in the silo. I’d always looked at my parents as parents, never as a man and a woman. That week I was back, I saw my
mamm
as a woman who had lost her other half. I knew she would be fine. Gotte would provide, and I had nine
bruders
and
schweschders
still there to care for her.” He replaced the hat on his head. “I guess having been away, I saw what I’d always taken for granted—their love for one another, the tenderness with which she touched his clothes as she folded them for giving away, the love in her voice as she explained to the
grandkinner
, the way she held me when I first walked into the house.”

Miriam didn’t speak. She didn’t dare break the spell of his memories.

“When I saw your
mamm
at the funeral, I knew.”

His grin brought her back to Saturday in the barn, to the smell of wood shavings and manure. “I knew what I’d been running from was being
in lieb
and commitment and maybe one day knowing heartache such as my
mamm
was experiencing when my
dat
passed—all the things
Gotte
gives us to make life wondrous. I was running, but
Gotte
didn’t allow me to run far.”

He stood and returned the crate to its upright position.

Miriam refocused on her work. Joshua was nearly out of the stall when she voiced one of the questions that had been plaguing her all morning. “If I ask you something, do you promise to be honest with me?”

Nodding, her father met her gaze directly.

Tears stung Miriam’s eyes, but she blinked them away. “Are you ever disappointed…in the choices I’ve made?”

“Not even a little.”

She knew it was the truth, that he wouldn’t lie, and though it didn’t answer the other questions, it provided a measure of comfort in the same way that working in the barn used up some of the energy she needed to be rid of.

Now, if she could figure out who or what she was running from.

She walked out into the sunshine, fetched Belle from the pasture, and led the mare back into the stall. Running her hand down the length of her mane, Miriam felt a portion of her own tension fade away. Belle nudged her pocket, looking for a treat, and Miriam pulled out some dried apple slices that the mare greedily devoured.

A clean stall and a little bit of fruit. Horses were easy to please.

Hearts not so much.

“Owww.”

“I’m sorry, honey. I don’t know how your hair becomes so tangled. It’s as if knots grow in there while you’re sleeping.”

Grace began to giggle, which was at least better than the near tears of five seconds ago. Girls’ emotions changed so quickly, and often Gabe had no idea what caused the change for better or worse. He thought he’d be used to it by now, but he wasn’t.

“Owww!”

Grace’s speech was like a stream uncovered in the desert. She’d only been speaking for three days, and her responses were short and gravelly, but there was no stopping the flow of words.

“Maybe we should cut your hair off.” Grace stopped wiggling, suddenly as still as a fawn caught in an
Englischer
’s headlights.

“Uh-uh.”

“
Ya
. Your
mammi
Sarah used to say short hair is quickly brushed.”

Grace’s hand reached back behind her waist until her fingers located and touched her long brown hair. Gabe continued to comb through the tangles, which was easier to do now that she was holding still. “All done. Time to braid you up.”

When they had lived in Indiana, Hope’s mother had done the braiding. As soon as he’d begun to look in the
Budget
at the land deals in Wisconsin, she’d made him take over the chore. “My
gross dochdern
all go out of their homes in a presentable manner. You won’t be sending Grace to school or church with anything less than perfectly braided hair and a well-kept
kapp
.”

He’d learned quickly. Braiding Grace’s hair was no different than braiding a rope for the pony—other than the rope held still and didn’t whine.

Surveying his work, he realized Hope would be proud of him.

The thought pierced him as acutely as if a knife had been thrust into his side.

It was the way of things, since he’d lost her.

He could go hours, sometimes days, without feeling the burn of the loss. Then something as simple as preparing Grace for church would drive his loneliness abruptly home.

“You’re ready to go. Want to check how I’ve done in the mirror?”

“
Ya
.” She hurried off to her room—half skipping, half walking.

Like the rest of the house, her room was simply furnished, but he had placed a small mirror on the wall near the door so she could be sure she’d dressed properly. Humility was important, but so was correct attire. There were many things a small girl couldn’t check for herself, and though he didn’t want her to grow up and be preoccupied with her reflection, neither did he want her unaware if she was walking around with shoofly pie on her face.

She walked back into the room, a smile on her lovely face and her Bible tucked under her arm.

“Ready?” he asked, grabbing his black Sunday hat off the peg by the door.

“
Ya
.” Her answers were brief, but each one brought true delight to his heart, mixed though it was with the bitterness of missing his wife. He recognized that this was a day he had much to thank the Lord for. Grace had made great strides since seeing the doctor. Though her throat was still hoarse from lack of use, and though she still tended to choose silence over words, the exercises were going well.

He could hardly wait to talk to Miriam about it.

Chapter 24

C
hurch was held at the Schmuckers’ farm, the elder Schmuckers’—Aden’s parents. Gabe had wanted to ask Eli if something romantic was going on between Miriam and Aden, but he didn’t think it was his place to pry. He had only noticed that one glance between them the night everyone was searching for Grace. He could have imagined the look and unspoken words.

Gabe hadn’t been to the Schmuckers’ farm before, but he knew where it was. Eli had described the place to him, and he’d driven by their lane several times.

Pulling up to the barn, he tamped down the feelings of envy that naturally rose. Aden’s parents had a large spread, and it looked as if every acre of it was in tip-top shape.

Joseph Bontreger, another young fellow who had shown up to help look for Grace, was on hand to take Chance and lead him into the barn.

“Large place,” Gabe said as he helped Grace out of the buggy.

“
Ya
. You’ve not been here before?”

“No. This is our first time.”

“But you have met Clemens Schmucker.” Joseph patted Chance as he nodded toward a group of older men standing outside the main house.

“I suppose I have. Is that him? Standing with the bishop?”

“
Ya
. He would never miss a church meeting, so I’m sure you have met him. Probably you just haven’t put all the names to faces yet.”

“I expect it will take me a while.” Gabe had started toward the house with Grace when Joseph called him back.

He was a pleasant enough kid. Gabe suddenly recalled that Miriam had mentioned he was to be married to the other teacher, the younger one, in the spring, though they hadn’t published their intentions yet.

Probably his youth was why he said what he said next. Young ones, they didn’t always buy into the Amish ways of silence. Or maybe there was more to it. Maybe he was trying to warn Gabe. Later, riding home, Gabe would remember the conversation and wonder.

“Clemens can be a bit overbearing at times. Don’t set too much store by anything he says. I don’t believe he means any harm, but sometimes…well, sometimes he doesn’t understand words can be as blunt as a tool.”

“Humph.” Gabe glanced over toward the front of the house and then back at Joseph. “See you inside then.”

“Sure. See you inside.”

As he walked toward the front steps, Grace tucked her hand in his. He noticed she did that whenever they were in a new place or if a situation unsettled her—like with the doctor. It didn’t bother him. She was growing up quickly, and he might not ever have another
boppli
.

Both men were shorter than Gabe. The bishop was on the thin side, whereas Clemens had a few extra pounds on him. Not soft exactly, but not lean. Both men were graying in their beards and possibly old enough to be Gabe’s father. It was hard to tell, and he wasn’t going to ask.

“Morning, Gabe.” The bishop offered him a handshake, which Gabe returned.

“Morning.”

The bishop didn’t smile, but then Gabe was learning he rarely did. He didn’t set any store by it. Jacob was a somber man, was all. He’d treated him fairly since he had arrived in Pebble Creek. The world would look strange if everyone went around grinning like a fool.

“You remember Clemens.”

“Yes, of course.” They shook hands as well.

“I need to go and speak with the deacons. I’ll see you both inside.”

“Beautiful place you have.” It was proper for Gabe to compliment Clemens’ spread, though in their focus on humility it would have been awkward for them to dwell on it. It would have been hard not to mention it, standing at the steps of his rather large house and looking over the perfectly tended buildings. Gabe counted eight of them from where he stood. There were two barns—the larger one would have easily housed three of his.

And the double silos looked to be in excellent condition.

Clemens stared at him a moment and then said, “Didn’t you purchase Kline’s homestead?”

“I did. Yes.”

“Falling to pieces, isn’t it?”

Gabe looked Clemens directly in the eye. He didn’t detect any malice in the man’s words—merely a statement of fact, which it was.

“The place needs work,” he admitted.

“Be better off to level it and start over, though I doubt you can afford to do so or you wouldn’t have purchased it in the first place.”

Without waiting for a response, Clemens turned and studied Miriam, who had walked onto the porch to say something to her father. “I never have understood why that woman hasn’t married. Must be hard to find someone now, because for years she has refused to consider any man related to
kinner
in her classroom. I believe the board should consider hiring another teacher. Then perhaps she can find her proper place in the home.”

Despite Joseph’s warning, Gabe’s mind was reeling from Clemens’ manner and his words. The man’s criticism of his place was spot-on but harsh. Had he actually suggested leveling the entire thing? Gabe shook his head, trying to clear the confusion away. And what about Miriam? She wouldn’t consider courting anyone whose children or relations she taught. Was that true? Then like a third wave, Clemens’ last statement washed over him.