A Promise for Miriam (25 page)

“No doubt it will have sentimental value.” Beiler directed the boys to leave the four-foot chest next to Miriam.

“
Danki
,” she said softly, a blush creeping up her neck and coloring her cheeks.

Gabe could see from where he sat that the chest was made of oak and was good craftsmanship. The young man would do fine in his woodworking business.

“The children asked that we leave it open so that they could place their handmade gifts inside.” The boys opened the top of the chest and then stepped back to their places at the side of the room. “Now, if you’ll join me in our closing hymn, we’ll finish with refreshments.”

There were many things different about the Cashton community, many things he hadn’t considered when moving Grace. Standing there beside Eli and singing the old familiar carol he’d grown up hearing, singing in the way that was distinctively Amish—with no instruments but with the traditional sliding musical way they had—he felt at peace. He finally understood that their two communities still remained more alike than they were different.

As he spied Grace standing with her classmates, he felt good about moving here for the first time since he’d ridden into town with her on the
Englisch
bus.

Unfortunately his feeling of contentment wouldn’t last through the night.

Chapter 29

M
iriam was proud of her students.

They had done an excellent job performing their songs, skits, and poems. More importantly, they had proven they could work together as a group. The teasing and bumps of the winter months had given way to the Christmas story once again. It left her pleased and prepared to enjoy their holiday weekend.

As each student came by and placed his or her homemade gift into her new blanket chest, she thanked them and wished them a good Christmas. The younger ones hugged her. The older ones nodded or shook her hand. All seemed pleased with the evening.

Grace dropped in a rolled-up scroll, secured with a satin ribbon.

“May I look at that now?” Miriam asked.

“Nope.” Grace enfolded her in a tight hug. “Wait, please.”

“All right. I’ll wait until Christmas Day. In fact, I believe I’ll see you in the afternoon. Right, Gabe?”

“Right, Miriam.”

Gabe smiled and directed Grace toward the refreshment tables so the gift line would keep moving. At least he was speaking to her tonight, and if she wasn’t wrong, there was real amusement in his eyes.

It could be she’d mistaken his distance on Tuesday afternoon.

It was something she’d have to think about.

More students filed through the line, and she lost track of the Millers until she made it to the back of the room, reached for some punch, and found a cup in her hand.

“We saved you some.” Gabe nodded toward the bowl, which was nearly empty. “Grace was afraid you wouldn’t get any.”

“I’m sure they’ll make more.”

“
Ya
. I told her that, but she insisted that we put back a cup for you.”

“Then I owe her. My throat is quite dry from thanking all the students for their lovely gifts.”

Gabe didn’t laugh outright, but he looked as if he didn’t believe her.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Yes, it’s something.” The Lapp boys were using their cups to throw a wad of paper at each other and catch it. “Outside, boys.”

“It’s dark,” Adam said.

“There’s a lantern by the front door. We can call it shadow ball!” Luke was out the door before his brother had decided whether to follow him.

Gabe shook his head.

“You’re doing it again,” Miriam said.

“I am?”

“Yes. It’s that look of disbelief, the same one you had when I mentioned the students’ gifts.”

He moved closer toward her to allow one of the families to scoot by him and out the door. “I was thinking of how many gifts you must have received if you’ve taught for…”

“Eight years.” Miriam saved him from doing the math. “For two years I was a mother’s helper, trying to decide what I wanted to do. When I turned sixteen, I became a teacher’s helper, like Esther is, and I did that for two years before I became a teacher…for the last eight.”

“So you’re twenty-six.” Gabe wiggled his eyebrows.

“And you’re excellent with numbers.” Miriam couldn’t help laughing.

“So eight years of teaching, and each year at Christmas you could fill up a chest with their gifts? Plus maybe they bring some at the end of the year,
ya
?”

“I see your point.”

“So what do you do with it all?” he asked, leaning in closer so he could lower his voice.

“I treasure each gift, of course.”

He again raised an eyebrow but didn’t say a word to contradict her.

“Space can become a problem at times,” she admitted. “It might be that I have to share with others once in a while if I receive too many macramé items or pot holders.”

Gabe began nodding his head, as if she had confirmed exactly what he thought.

“But I treasure each gift before I give it away.”

“Your secret is safe with me, Miriam.”

“Secret? You two are sharing secrets?” Simon, Miriam’s brother, walked up, with Emma close at his side.

“Eavesdropping,
bruder
?” Miriam offered him a cookie, which he swallowed in one bite.

“Not exactly, but say…I did hear something odd when I was standing near the
Englisch
fellow.”

“Doc Hanson?”

“No.” Simon shook his head and reached for another cookie. “I know Doc Hanson. This fellow wasn’t quite as old as Doc.”

“The only other
Englischer
we invited was Officer Tate.”

“
Ya
. I saw him as well.” Emma wound her finger around the string of her
kapp
. “Remember, Simon? They were standing together, talking.”

“Arguing’s more like it.”

Miriam set her empty cup of punch down on the table. “I should go see if there’s a problem.”

“I’ll go with you,” Gabe said.

“We can all go.” Simon fell in line behind them.

So many people were moving in and out of the schoolhouse that Miriam wasn’t sure how they would find anyone, except Officer Tate tended to wear a ball cap when he wasn’t in uniform. Perhaps she could find him if she could see over everyone’s head, which she couldn’t.

She tugged on Gabe’s arm. “Look for a dark-green ball cap. It’s what he wears…”

“Got him.” Gabe went across the middle of the room, which was when Miriam finally saw Officer Tate, standing near Bishop Beiler. Both were frowning and looking out a window of the school, where the curtain had been pulled to the side to allow parents to admire the children’s decorations.

Tate stopped midsentence when their group walked up.

“Officer Tate. Bishop.” Miriam greeted the men and then waited a moment while everyone nodded and murmured hello. “I’d heard there might have been a problem with one of the
Englischers
visiting tonight, but I didn’t realize there was another
Englischer
here. Is there something I should know about?”

Tate turned to Beiler, who nodded as if giving him permission to share what he knew. Miriam didn’t have a lot of experience with the man, but she could tell from the frown lines around his eyes that something had upset him, and she understood from the first words out of his mouth why he’d gone to the bishop with his concerns.

Gabe stood near the edge of the group, watching and listening. He’d only meant to give Miriam her cup of punch, as Grace had made him promise, say his good-nights, collect his daughter, and head home. The temptation to tease her had been too great, or possibly it was that she was so easy to tease. Either way, it had landed him here, in the middle of what?

“The person you’re referring to is Byron Drake,” Tate explained. “He happened upon the school program and walked in just before it began.”

“Oh. Well, we are not rude to outsiders. I’m sure he meant us no harm.” Miriam scanned the room, which now held half the people it had during the program. “Is he still here? I don’t see anyone I don’t recognize.”

“No, he left, but he remarked on some ideas after the program that I didn’t think your community would like, so I shared his comments with Bishop Beiler.”

“And I thank you for doing so, but what the
Englisch
man does is his business and none of ours.” Beiler’s expression remained neutral. Gabe was learning it rarely changed. Perhaps that was simply his way, though there had been that frown when they had first approached them.

Tate took his ball cap off his head, rubbed his hand over hair that was quite short, and then replaced it. Now that Gabe thought about it, he remembered that the officer had removed it during the program, and he was dressed properly enough. Tate had been sitting a few seats down from where he and Eli had sat. Apparently, as soon as refreshment time had started, the cap had come out of his back pocket.

“The man sounded pretty determined,” Tate said.

“Determined about what?” Gabe asked.

“Starting a tourist attraction here in Cashton.”

“Perhaps the bishop is right. Why should we care about what happens in Cashton?” Miriam glanced back at Simon and Emma, who shrugged. “We don’t often go into the town proper.”

“I would agree with you. In general more tourism is a good thing for everyone, but the reason he stopped was because he saw all of the buggies.” Tate stuck his hands into the pockets of his trousers and jingled the change there. “The plans he was so excited about had an Amish theme.”

“Amish?” Miriam sat down at the desk next to her.

“What is an Amish theme?” Emma asked.

Gabe pinched the bridge of his nose, memories of trouble in Indiana washing over him like a wave.

“There was a lot of mumbling,” Tate admitted. “I didn’t catch everything he said, and then he was gone.”

“Exactly what did he say?” Gabe glanced from Beiler to Tate. He was new here and had no influence, but he did have a stake in the community where he would raise Grace, and he needed to know.

“He kept saying—‘
Perfect, this is just perfect. A schoolhouse, children. Tourists love children
.’”

Miriam bounced out of her seat. “We can’t have tourists in to interrupt the children every day.”

“Then he mentioned the old hotel in downtown Cashton and he left.”

“That place has been closed for years,” Bishop Beiler pointed out.

“True, but I had heard at the council meeting last week that they have a possible buyer.” When no one spoke, Tate added, “I believe I just met him.”

Gabe stayed a few minutes longer, but Tate didn’t know anything else, and Beiler was set against becoming involved. Miriam’s attention soon turned to thanking the remaining parents and students. It wasn’t hard for Gabe to find Grace and slip away.

He drove through the country roads, lightly dusted with snow, with Grace curled up on the seat beside him. While she hummed and played with the popcorn ball the teachers had handed out, he couldn’t stop his mind from sliding back to Indiana. They had experienced conflict, disruption, even families torn apart, all because of an
Englischer
’s business plans. Or maybe it had been their fault. If they had acted sooner and stepped up and involved themselves, much of what happened could have been averted.

But it wasn’t their way to participate in the town’s affairs, or so the older members had argued.

Perhaps he should talk to Joshua and Abigail about what had happened there. He didn’t want to taint their Christmas celebration with needless worries, but he also didn’t want to let matters spiral out of control.

He’d learned that lesson before, and though he didn’t consider himself the sharpest tool in the wood-carver’s box, he wasn’t the dullest either. Perhaps it would be wisest to tell what he knew and let the community decide.

Chapter 30

G
race didn’t think anything could be better than the school presentation, but Christmas was.

When she was younger—only five or six—she would lie awake nights thinking of Christmas afternoon when they exchanged presents. This year she was still excited about that. She went to sleep at night dreaming of Stormy. She also snuck moments at the table while her dad was outside in the barn to work on her father’s present. She didn’t want him to see his gift before it was complete.

But Christmas morning was better every year. Her dad was out doing only what work had to be done in the barn. He had explained to her the afternoon before that things were different here than at their old home in Indiana. As if she hadn’t already figured that out.

No nativity scene at the church. No candles in the windows. But the school presentation had been a huge success.

Grace skipped into the mudroom, sat on the floor, and pulled Stanley’s box down into her lap. “I’ll still love you,” she whispered. “Even if Stormy comes here this afternoon.”

She liked the sound of her voice now. Maybe that was her best Christmas present—it sounded like a soft breeze. Some people’s voices were big like a strong wind. Some were screechy like a bird’s cry. Hers was soft and that was okay.