Read A Promise for Miriam Online

Authors: Vannetta Chapman

Tags: #Christian Fiction, #Amish & Mennonite, #Amish, #Christian, #Fiction, #Romance, #Love Stories

A Promise for Miriam (38 page)

BOOK: A Promise for Miriam
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He waited, but she didn’t offer any explanation.

“Miriam is still searching her heart.”

Aden lowered his gaze to the table. When he looked up again, the boyish smile was back. “I think I understand.”


Gut
!” Joshua set enough money on the table to pay for their meal. “First, I’d like to see this buggy shop where you work. Our bishop wants me to bring back a report about where his young apprentice is employed.”

Miriam was happy to be in a buggy again. Jocelyn seemed to be a
gut
driver, but the ride in the
Englisch
car had made her a little
naerfich
. Buggies were more natural, in her opinion, and Aden’s gelding was a real beauty. His buggy, though—it was like the coffeepot in the general store. It was different. There was a gas heater inside that ran on a small propane cylinder. Though he still kept lap blankets stored on the backseat, it was definitely warmer than her old buggy back home.

She thought it was the fanciest buggy she’d ever seen, and Miriam began to wonder if Aden had forgotten his vows of humility. But then they arrived at the shop, and she soon saw that the buggy he was driving was the cheapest model sold there. There were buggies with leather seats and buggies with dual heaters. All of the buggies were the same color on the outside, so that when passing on the road no family would seem more prosperous than any other, but she couldn’t help thinking of her buggy waiting for her back in Pebble Creek.

Aden had worked extra hours all week so that he could have the afternoon off. He took them to his farm next, which was indeed small. “I have the option of buying additional acreage as long as I do so within five years.”

“From an
Englischer
?” Joshua asked.


Ya
. He is retired and can use the money, but he’s not in a big hurry for it.”

The home he was staying in was an old hunter’s cabin. There was no electricity, but he did have small gas appliances—heater, stove, and mini refrigerator. He also had running water and a small corner bathroom.

“It looks like your
bruder
’s home, Miriam.”

“You mean the bathroom?
Ya
. David would be comfortable here.”

The laughter helped to ease the tension as she stood in the middle of Aden’s one-room cabin. Aden waited until Joshua walked outside onto the porch, and then he stepped closer.

“I would never ask you to live in this cabin. You know that, right?”

“Aden, I’m not ready to talk about—”


Ya
, I know. But it’s just that when I look at this one room through a woman’s eyes, well it doesn’t look so
gut
. I wish you could see what I see.” He turned from her and walked to the window, frustration tightening his shoulders.

“And what do you see, Aden?”

He glanced back to decide if she was mocking him. Satisfied that she wasn’t, he pointed out across the fields. “There, tucked in the shade of that grove of trees—a home. Not large at first, but well constructed. A barn to the west of that, and animal pens, of course.”

“You’re happy here. Aren’t you?”

“Yes. Except—”

Miriam waited, dreading but knowing there was no way to stop him.

“Except that it’s lonely.” He turned now and walked across the room until only a few inches remained between them.

“Aden, I know there are women here, gut Amish women.”


Ya
.”

“Except?” She echoed the word back to him.

Now the boyish grin returned. “They are not you, Miriam King.”

“You sound like a student with a childhood crush.”

“But I’m not a student, and it’s not a crush.” He cupped her elbow in his hand and walked her out onto the porch. The sun was shining down on his fields and she could picture it, could imagine what he had described. She could even envision the way Grace would draw it, and that thought made her smile. The question was—could she see herself in that picture?

The rest of the evening and the next day passed quickly. The home she and her father stayed in was warm and inviting. The women were kind and didn’t ask too many questions. They did let slip that several of the young ladies in the community had expressed an interest in Aden Schmucker. For some reason it eased the worry in her heart. Should her answer be no, she didn’t think Aden would be living on his small farm alone for very long.

She didn’t speak of her decision on the drive home, while the road unwound beneath the tires of the
Englisch
car.

Neither did she talk about her feelings as she and her father laughed about the percolating coffeepot with her mother, or told of how the gas heat left the downstairs rooms warm but felt rather dry on their skin.

Miriam stayed at the kitchen table on Saturday night, long after her parents went to bed. She opened her Bible, searched her heart, and prayed that her decision wasn’t a selfish one. Then she wrote a letter to Aden.

The next morning she woke feeling ten pounds lighter.

There was no church that day, so they would do only the chores that had to be done, followed by breakfast and Bible study in the sitting room.

It was during lunch, when her parents noticed her humming, that they finally asked.

Miriam selected a cold slice of ham and another piece of bread, one baked yesterday in her mother’s wood-burning oven. “I’d like my children to have a creek wandering through their childhood.”


Ya
. That’s important,” Abigail agreed. “I always loved that proverb.”

“I suppose I’d trade a feed bag of modern conveniences for one
gut
creek,” Joshua said, reaching for the butter a second too late.

Abigail moved it away from his grasp and shook her head.

They didn’t ask Miriam about her feelings, but she loved her parents all the more for that. And she positively wanted to laugh when her mother said, “Did I mention that Gabe and Grace are coming for dinner tonight? I promised to give her another quilting lesson.”

Could it be that her mother was matchmaking?

If so, she’d have to thank her for it. But first she needed to clean up these dishes and make sure the checkerboard was out and ready for their guests. She was ready for a rematch with one Gabriel Miller.

Chapter 46

G
race didn’t understand adults. She didn’t understand donkeys, either, but at least they made more sense than adults.

“Watch your stitches, Grace. I believe they are getting bigger there.” Abigail’s voice was kind as she pointed to the border of the lap quilt Grace was piecing together.

They had been having lessons since the auction. Grace thought she was getting better, but she was still glad they had started with something very small. She had a small lap, so it was a small quilt. Abigail said it would be just right.

“My stitches grow worse when my mind wanders.”

“Where was your mind wandering just then?”

“Two different places. Toward grown-ups and donkeys.”

Abigail chuckled and reached to put another piece of wood in the iron stove. It was comfy where they were sewing in the sitting room. Grace loved Sunday afternoons spent with Abigail and Joshua. Being home was good too, and Sundays when church meetings were fun, but Sundays when they visited? Those were her favorite.

“Want to talk about the donkey first?”

Grace leaned forward so that she could peek at her dad and Miriam sitting at the table in the kitchen. They were supposed to be playing checkers, but far as she could tell no one ever moved a piece on the board. That made no sense at all. Didn’t they want to win?


Ya
. Donkeys might be easier.”

“How is Gus?”

“He’s
gut
. He likes being with the horses, but if you ever leave him alone…” Grace shook her head as she sewed three stitches that ended the row. Turning the quilt, she glanced up at Abigail. “He can find a lot of trouble for such a small animal.”

“Donkeys are herd animals. They tend to find trouble when left alone.”

“That’s what my
dat
said. When we tried to pull him out of the old chicken coop—I don’t know how he even got in there—well, we couldn’t do it. My
dat
pulled and pulled, and he’s real strong. Gus wouldn’t come. He sat down and brayed and wouldn’t come.
Dat
was mad and stomping around in the cold.”

Abigail nodded as she reached into her sewing box for her scissors. “Is he still there?”

“No!” Grace started giggling as she bent back over her quilt. “We finally went and got Chance. Gus just loves that buggy horse. He’d stay with him all day long if he could. When he saw Chance, he came right out of the chicken coop, dragging old boards and rotten hay behind him.”

“Donkeys can be trouble.”

“That’s what my
dat
said. He didn’t want Gus to begin with. I still don’t understand why he entered that woodsplitting competition.”

They both stopped sewing and peered into the kitchen.

“Adults make less sense than donkeys,” Grace whispered.

“Sometimes it seems that way,” Abigail admitted.

Grace sewed the entire length of her quilt before she asked the question that had been bothering her. “Is Miriam going to move? I know she went with her
dat
to visit some other people out of town. We had the twins’
grossmammi
for a substitute, and she smells kind of funny.”

“I hope you didn’t tell her that.”

“Nein
.”

The sound of the crackling fire filled the silence between them.

“Did you ask Miriam if she plans to move?”


Nein
. I didn’t want to be nosy.”

“But you’re still worried.”


Ya
. Some.”

“Well, I wouldn’t worry about Miriam. She told me she plans on living in Cashton and raising her children here.”

“Children? But she’s not married.”

“Maybe she will be one day. Gotte has a plan for her life, and I suspect it includes a family of her own.

Grace felt a heavy weight lift off her chest and float to the ceiling. She put her sewing down and walked over to Abigail’s chair. When Miriam’s mom looked up, Grace slipped her arms around her neck.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you too, Grace Ann.”

There was still the problem of Gus behaving himself, and she still didn’t understand adults, but at least there wouldn’t be any more change—not for a while. That was all she needed to know to make this Sunday absolutely perfect.

Chapter 47

G
abe pulled his buggy up in front of the Cashton Village Community Center, Miriam sitting at his side. He’d picked her up from the schoolhouse, glad to have the time together in the buggy alone. They hadn’t spoken of anything important, but sometimes those moments were significant in a relationship.

Did they have a relationship?

Before he could answer the question, even to himself, Samuel arrived in his buggy.

“Samuel,” Gabe nodded to the older man as they both secured their horses to the hitching posts that had been provided for local Amish.

Samuel frowned and pulled at his beard. “I saw Eli on my way in. His buggy threw a wheel and he’ll be late.”

“Should we go back to help him?”

“No. He had help. Said he’d be here as soon as he could.” Samuel scowled at the building. “I’m still not sure we should be here, but let’s have this over with.”

Miriam stepped closer to Gabe, as if she were lending her support, as if she understood they needed to stand together. “The meeting doesn’t start for another five minutes,” she said.

“Better early than late.” Samuel shook his head. “Being our schoolteacher, I thought you would be instructing the younger ones in such things.”

He entered the building without them. The man had been chosen to serve, and he would fulfill his duty. However, there was no doubt in Gabe’s mind that his heart wasn’t in it.

Gabe and Miriam waited by the buggies, watching down the street for Eli, the afternoon wind pulling at their clothes. It was cold but not unpleasant. Gabe had always preferred the outdoors to inside, especially when inside included a meeting of any sort. This meeting was bound to be confrontational. The thought made a muscle in his jaw twitch.

“It could be worse,” she murmured. “It could be Clemens Schmucker in there with us.”

The name Schmucker brought a dozen questions to Gabe’s mind. He knew Miriam had been to see Aden with her father. What had she thought of that community? Had she fully weighed the differences in what her life would be like there, with him, versus here with Gabe?

Would staying be a decision she would regret?

He glanced her way and saw the smile playing at the corners of her mouth. It was an expression that succeeded in pushing his questions back where they belonged, back into the corners of his mind.


Ya
. Clemens could have been elected.”

“It would be the shortest meeting the
Englischers
ever had, because Clemens’ declarations are fairly short and his listening skills don’t exist.”

“Miriam King. That’s a little judgmental of you.” Some of the tension melted from Gabe’s shoulders as he put his hand on her elbow to guide her along the sidewalk, which still had a bit of ice on it from the recent snow and cold nights.

“Not judging, Gabe. Only observing. It’s one of the things I try to instruct the children in.” Now her grin widened as he opened the door for her.

As he smiled back, Gabe thought about how their district was comprised of an odd group of personalities. But what group wasn’t—
Englisch
or Amish? And perhaps there was hope in that. Perhaps all of the
Englisch
were not as excited about this building plan as Byron Drake.

The village president walked up to them as they came in the door. Gabe still wasn’t accustomed to seeing such short hair on a woman, but there was no mistaking the friendliness in her welcome.

BOOK: A Promise for Miriam
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