Miriam's Story: Part 2 Romance in Amish Country (4 page)

Each of Jacob’s married brothers had spent the first winter of their marriages with their wives in the larger of the other original bedrooms—now occupied by Miriam’s girls—until the spring, when a new cottage could be built for them, either on Fisher land, or in the cases of Caleb and Saul, on their wives’ families’ land. Weddings had rarely coincided with the births of Miriam’s children, so with the exception of Rebecca’s first winter, when her cradle was placed in Miriam and Jacob’s room, until Adam and Hadessah had moved out, there had always been plenty of room for her family.

Jacob had made things a little easier on his brothers by putting two walls up in the sleeping loft, allowing the older boys some measure of privacy and the option of staying up later than their younger siblings. Seth was the only one in the family left up in that “dormitory” space, though Daniel would be staying in one of those rooms until the new stable was completed.

When Miriam returned to the girls’ room, Ruthie and Rebecca were already dressed, so she helped brush out their hair and braid it. In only a few minutes, Ezra knocked on the door.

“Did you stop to brush your teeth?” Miriam asked, knowing Ezra sometimes forgot such things.

“Yes, Mama,” he said, and she could see by his damp hair that he had also washed his face.

“All right, then. Ruthie, Rebecca, and I will do the same, and we will be all ready to go down.”

“Please hurry, Mama!” Ezra said urgently.

“We will,” Ruthie promised.

***

Breakfast was hurried but cheerful. Rachel had already started cooking, saving time this morning by baking a breakfast casserole she had put together the night before. When Miriam came down with the children, she organized them to help set the table. Seth hurried in from outside, where he had been feeding the livestock, and after washing his hands began to pour drinks all around, joking with Ezra about being unconcerned with doing “a woman’s work” this morning, because he was so anxious to leave.

Shem arrived shortly after, having seen to the milking of their three cows. Miriam glanced up when he entered the kitchen and they shared a long, understanding look. Her father-in-law was not normally an overly demonstrative man, except when it came to his grandchildren, but this morning, he crossed to give Miriam a rare kiss on her brow. Miriam gave his hand a squeeze and kissed him lightly on the cheek in return. The exchange was brief, but she felt his warmth and approval keenly, and knew that he was pleased that she was with child.

Daniel, however, was impossible to read this morning. Perhaps it was only that they had just met yesterday, but while he interacted with the children in a friendly way, he was far more reserved this morning than he had been at supper last night, and there was something in his eyes she could not understand. Miriam could tell that Daniel avoided meeting her gaze, and she wondered if something had happened to make him treat her more cooly. Thankfully, Ezra did not notice the change—he was much too excited about the events of the day to notice grownups acting strangely—but she wished she could ask Rachel what she thought about Daniel’s change in demeanor, because it was obvious to her that her mother-in-law had noticed it, too.

Perhaps it is only that I misread Daniel’s interest yesterday
, she thought and was surprised at the disappointment she felt.

Thankfully, Miriam did not have a lot of time to dwell on her feelings for Daniel or his overnight personality change. They needed two buggies to transport all of the people and food to the Miller farm, and by the time they had loaded everything and everyone, dawn was breaking over the horizon. Shem drove Rachel, Miriam, and the girls the mile and a half to their neighbor’s farm, while Seth drove Daniel, Ezra, and most of the food. As much as she wanted to question Rachel about her impression of Daniel this morning, with the girls there, it was impossible, so she decided to simply try to put it out of her mind for the day.

They were the first to arrive, and it took only one admonition from Rachel that Miriam not carry anything heavy for Miriam’s condition to be made known to Naomi and Ruth. There were plenty of tears and wishes for a healthy babe as hugs were exchanged, but little time to waste as more of their expected neighbors began to pour into the yard..

The men were waiting out at the site of the new barn, where the already-framed four walls waited for the crowd of men to come lift them into place. Miriam’s brothers, Abram and Isaac, stepped into the house briefly with their wives to greet both their sisters before heading out to join their father, Shem, Seth, and Daniel. Buggies continued to arrive as daylight took hold, the men bearing tool belts and their wives bringing food for the feast. Children were running around, exploring the farm, as they waited for the excitement to begin.

Finally, it was time. The women all gathered on the porches and in front of the house to see the raising of the barn walls. There were braces and ropes, but it was mostly sheer brute human strength that pulled the framed walls upright where they would be pegged together in the traditional manner. The walls were not as high as most barns, because, as Daniel had explained, this design was for a stable, not a cow barn, and horses had different needs. The first floor would have a higher ceiling than the cow barn, and here there would be only a single-story second floor, half of which would serve for storing feed while the other half was turned into a small apartment where Daniel would live until they could afford to hire a full-time groom.

As the men climbed higher onto the new construction, Miriam felt her stomach drop. She looked around for Ezra and found him standing between his two grandfathers, each of whom had a comforting hand lying on one of the boy’s shoulders. They were obviously explaining things to Ezra, gesturing and pointing, and while Ezra was not nearly as animated as he had been earlier, he seemed to be coping with the day.

Miriam glanced back at the barn to see Abram and her brother-in-law, Benjamin, climb to the top of the near corner to drill and peg, and she just had to turn away. While she knew there was not a man on the job today who was not thinking of Jacob—and being extra careful because of his accident—Miriam simply could not watch.

She found Rachel in the kitchen, squeezing lemons for the gallons of lemonade for the men who worked in the hot September sun. Ruth was with her, and she sent Miriam an understanding look, before wiping her hands on a towel and coming to give her a quick hug.

“You should stay inside where it is cooler, today,” Ruth said, pulling out a chair for her niece.

“I can help you with something,” Miriam protested. “I am not an invalid.”

“Of course you are not,” Rachel said, bringing a cutting board that held lemons cut in half. “Here. You can squeeze the lemons. My hand is tired already.”

She brought Miriam the juicer and the large glass four-quart measuring cup they were using for the lemon juice.

“I will get started peeling apples. We will need plenty, if we are to have enough fritters for everyone.”

The women worked companionably and were soon joined by others. Miriam let her mind wander as she squeezed and sliced lemons, and she knew she was feeling better when she realized that the smell of frying apple fritters was making her hungry rather than queasy. Occasionally, someone new would come in and offer her a one-armed hug when they learned about the baby. Later in the morning, Hannah Yoder arrived with her tiny first-born baby in tow, and Miriam finally got a welcome break from being the center of attention.

Feeding everyone at noon was quite a job. The young women set boards on sawhorses outside under the trees and filled the makeshift tables with platters and bowls of food. There was a veritable smorgasbord to choose from, as everyone had brought something to contribute to the feast. Then men ate and drank deeply, while the women kept the serving dishes laden then fed themselves and the children. Miriam could see the barn was already taking shape, with rafters already going up to carry the weight of the roof. She tried not to picture anyone falling and instead attempted to focus on Ezra’s running commentary of the morning’s events as he shared them with his sisters. He was not as animated as he might have been at another time, but the men in his family had obviously kept his mind on the building and off of his father.

Miriam glanced up at one point to see Daniel watching her. His eyes shifted to Ezra for a moment then back to her, and he lifted an eyebrow in question, his concern evident. Miriam smiled and nodded. Whatever Daniel’s problem had been this morning, he was still looking out for her son, and she was thankful.

Chapter Five

A
fter dinner was cleaned up, many of the women brought out various projects and settled under the shade of the trees to quilt or sew. Miriam looked for Ruthie and Rebecca and was thankful to see them with a group of girls who were learning needlepoint from Rachel and another woman. Miriam took a turn holding Hannah Yoder’s newborn, and the slight weight of the tiny baby filed Miriam with hope for the life that grew inside her. Reluctantly returning the child to its mother, Miriam realized that she felt unusually tired and needed to rest for a bit. She slipped out by the side door, headed for her childhood haven. Coming around the main barn, she found herself on a high bank that overlooked open fields below. The winter wheat had already been harvested, and hay had been planted for the summer. The long, even rows showed the path taken by her father and his horse-drawn plow. The bright summer sunlight reflected off the pale green shoots of the new crop.

It had been a long time since Miriam had looked for solace in this place. She and Naomi had often come here as children, seeking a peace the valley offered. She supposed her brothers had their own hiding place, but she and Naomi had never been privy to its location. Not that it mattered, she mused, as long as she could still come to this place on those rare occasions when she was back in her childhood home and needed to get away.

She heard soft footfalls on the grass behind her and expected Naomi or Ruth to join her. When Daniel sat down beside her, she started, surprised that he would seek her out. He spoke not a word, just followed her gaze out across the tilled fields. The whistle of the vintage steam locomotive heading the tourist train back to Strasburg from Paradise broke the late afternoon stillness, and they watched the gray and black plume of smoke and steam rising on the breeze.

“Seth told me about the steam train, but I have never heard anything like it before,” Daniel said, as though it were the most important thing on his mind.

Miriam glanced at him, but she could not tell what he was thinking. It was odd, but after having known him for only a day, she somehow felt she should be able to. She turned back to the distant train that puffed across the fields.

“I need to explain my behavior this morning,” Daniel said after a time.

“You do not owe me any explanations.”

“Yes. I do.”

She turned to study his face once more, and he sighed.

“I told you once that my wife and I could never have children, but that was only a part of the story.”

Miriam saw him swallow hard and laid a gentle hand on his arm.

“If this is too painful for you, you do not need to…”

“Deborah did conceive on two occasions,” he continued, interrupting her. “She lost them both in a matter of weeks.”

“Oh, Daniel.” Miriam squeezed his arm in sympathy. “I am so sorry.”

“I dreamed of her last night, and when I saw you this morning, with your three healthy, happy, excited children, I suddenly found I could not breathe.

“I was so jealous, Miriam. God forgive me, but even knowing of your loss, of your husband’s death, I was so jealous of you for your children, I came close to walking out.”

Miriam shifted to take his hand in both of hers.

“It is all right, Daniel,” she said, tears in her voice. “I understand now why you reacted the way you did, and it is all right.” If Miriam had stopped to think about it, she would have been thoroughly embarrassed to find herself sitting here with a virtual stranger, discussing things one simply did not discuss with a man. But she felt his pain keenly. She shared in it and could not bring herself to turn away from him.

He squeezed her hands and shook his head.

“I do not deserve your forgiveness, but I thank you for it.”

“There is nothing to forgive, Daniel. Truly there is not.”

He glanced over to meet her eyes, and she felt her heart turn over at what she saw there.

“What happened to Deborah?” she asked gently. He obviously still loved his wife deeply, even after almost two years.

He sighed and squeezed her hand once more.

“It was a traffic accident,” he said. “An English woman failed to stop at a stop sign and crashed into our buggy. I ended up with some broken ribs and a concussion, but the car hit Deborah’s side of the buggy, and she died instantly.”

Miriam’s eyes filled with tears she did not bother to try to hide. “Oh, Daniel, I am so, so sorry.”

He nodded curtly then turned back to their view when the steam whistle sounded again.