Summer Promise

by Marianne Ellis

  There was only one place where Miriam was certain she would never find Sarah, and that was the bedroom Miriam and Daniel shared. But Miriam feared bringing up the topic of Daniel’s feelings for her sister in this room. She feared it with every fiber of her being. The kitchen might be the heart of the house, but the room shared by a husband and wife provided its lifeblood. For it was here that a wife and husband were most intimate, where they shared things between themselves alone. In this room, future generations would be created.

  But the moment Miriam spoke Sarah’s name aloud in that special place, Miriam and Daniel would no longer be alone. Sarah would be with them, even there, leaving Miriam with no place left in all the world where she could have Daniel all to herself.

  The possibility that her fears were the truth—and Daniel really did love Sarah—was like a mirror held up to the sun, too painfully bright for Miriam to look upon.

  “Miriam?”

  At the sound of her own name, Miriam jumped and spun around. Leah stood hesitating just inside the open doors of the farm stand, balanced on the balls of her feet, as if uncertain whether to step forward or back.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she went on at once. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “It is my fault,” Miriam said. “I got lost in my own thoughts. But you’re here so early, Leah. Has something happened? Is something wrong?”

  “Oh, Miriam,” Leah sobbed out.

  Miriam forgot her own problems in an instant. Quickly, she hurried to the younger woman’s side.

  “Gracious, Leah, what is it?” she asked. She put her hands on Leah’s shoulders and peered down into her face. It was clear that Leah was, and had been, crying. “Has there been an accident? Is Rachel or John unwell?”

  “No, no, it’s nothing like that,” Leah said. She scrubbed at her damp cheeks with impatient fingers. “It may sound foolish, but . . . I broke a lamp while I was dusting this morning. I was thinking about something else and I . . .” She choked back another sob. “Aenti Rachel would never say it is her favorite, but I know she treasured it. She has had it since she married Onkel John. I would like to go into town to replace it, though I know whatever I find won’t be the same. And you probably think I’m silly for making such a fuss over just a lamp.”

  “Of course I don’t think that,” Miriam said. “And of course you must go at once. We’re never very busy first thing in the morning, and the stores should be open by the time you get to town. Take your time, Leah. Make sure you are thoughtful in what you decide. That will make your aunt feel better.”

  Leah gave a shaky laugh. “Danki, Miriam. You really do sound just like her sometimes.”

  Miriam gave Leah a quick hug, and then let her go. “Off with you, now. Stop and show me what you picked out before you go home.”

  “I will,” Leah promised.

  She turned and dashed back across the road, sprinting for home. Miriam turned back to the farm stand with a smile. There was nothing like somebody else’s troubles to help you forget your own, she thought, even when those troubles were small. Though they hadn’t seemed small to Leah!

  It was time to get out the tables and ready the farm stand for the day, and unless Eli or Sarah showed up soon, it looked as if Miriam would be performing that task herself.

  She went back inside, determined to get the display tables out front without dropping anything on her foot this time.

  * * *

  “Oh, thank you, Mr. Wilson,” Leah breathed. “You are right. That is the perfect one. It’s almost like the old one, isn’t it?”

  “Pretty close,” Angus Wilson said. He owned the hardware store in town. It was one of the biggest stores on the main street, catering to both Amish and Englisch customers. “Do you know, I actually remember that lamp you’re talking about? It was one of the most popular styles, for quite a while.”

  “Why would they change it if everybody liked it so much?” Leah asked.

  Angus Wilson smiled. “That’s a very good question, young lady,” he said. “And I’m sorry to say it’s one I don’t have a good answer for. Now, you wait right there and I’ll go get one that’s all boxed up for you.”

  “Danki, Mr. Wilson,” Leah said.

  While she waited, she strolled around a bit. Leah loved the hardware store. Loved the way the things that pretty much only Plain folk would use sat right next to the things the Englisch preferred. And then there were the things that suited both equally well. She paused in front of one of the big storefront windows, admiring the display. Across the street, she saw a young Plain man come out of Tompkins Lumber. He set off down the street, his gait a little slow and halting.

  But surely that is Eli! Leah thought.

  She shifted position, angling for a better view. Ja, it was definitely Eli. What on earth was he doing in town when he was supposed to be at the farm stand? Miriam hadn’t said anything about Eli also coming into town. He turned the corner and Leah lost sight of him.

  “Here we go, Leah.” Mr. Wilson’s voice sounded behind her. “All boxed up safe and sound. You be sure to give your aunt and uncle my best.”

  “I will, Mr. Wilson,” Leah promised as she turned away from the window. “Thank you again for all your help.”

  The new lamp safely in hand, Leah left the store. She looked up ahead to try to see Eli, but there was no sign of him. I shouldn’t care, Leah thought to herself—but what was Eli doing in town? What was he up to?

  * * *

  The road from town was long and straight, an easy ride punctuated by gentle hills and stretches of flat land. Leah had always enjoyed the route between town and her aenti and onkel’s home. The sound of the horse’s hooves was brisk and cheerful against the hard surface of the roadway. At this time of day, still fairly early, there were mostly farm vehicles, with Plain folk running errands or going to their fields. Tractors, buggies, and farm vehicles drawn by horses and mules traveled along the road in a stream of slow-moving but steady traffic.

  Leah had just passed the silo that marked the end of the outskirts of town and the start of open country when she saw a figure walking by the side of the road. Even if she hadn’t seen him leaving Tompkins Lumber Supply, Leah would have known that it was Eli. The walker’s gait was ever so slightly uneven, favoring the right leg.

  Why hadn’t he driven to town? Leah wondered.

  Eli’s leg was much better, so much so that Victor no longer drove his younger brother to work at the farm stand. But as far as she could remember, Leah didn’t think she had ever seen Eli drive. She pulled back gently on the reins, slowing the buggy to a walk. Eli turned.

  “Would you like a ride?” Leah offered.

  Eli hesitated and, for a split second, Leah thought he would decline. Then he gave a quick nod.

  “Danki,” he said.

  Leah guided the buggy onto the shoulder of the road and stopped. Eli swung up and settled in beside her. Leah looked back over her shoulder to make sure the way was clear. Then she chirruped to the horse and pulled back onto the road. She and Eli drove in silence for several moments. Leah wanted to ask him why he was in town, but she didn’t want to appear to be all that interested. After a few more minutes, Leah was wondering if Eli intended to remain silent all the way back to the farm stand. But then he spoke.

  “Danki,” he said once more. “It is very nice of you to stop for me.”

  “Some people think I’m very nice,” Leah commented. She kept her eyes straight ahead, looking between the horse’s ears at the stretch of road directly in front of her.

  “Do they?” Eli inquired.

  “Oh, ja, they do,” Leah said. “I could draw up a list, if you like.”

  “I don’t think that will be necessary,” Eli said pleasantly. “I trust you.”

  “Do you, now?”

  Before Eli could answer, Leah clicked her tongue to the horse, encouraging the mare to
pick up her pace as they climbed a small hill. As they came back down, she shot a quick glance at him out of the corner of her eye.

  “Would you like to know something?” he asked.

  “If you would like to tell me.”

  “The answer to your question is yes. I believe I do trust you.”

  “I can’t think why,” Leah commented. “Most of the time, we don’t even like each other very much.”

  “To tell you the truth, neither can I.”

  All of a sudden, Leah laughed. A fraction of a second later, Eli laughed, too, the sound full-throated and surprised.

  “Thank goodness we got that straightened out,” Leah said. She guided the horse down another hill.

  “Leah, I have a proposal for you,” Eli said.

  “What?”

  “I’d like to propose a truce,” he went on. “I think that we got off on the wrong foot, you and I. Do you think we could start over?”

  “No,” Leah said. She shot a glance in Eli’s direction just in time to see a dark blush suffuse his face. “But I think that we could start fresh, from right now. My onkel John says you can never start over, but it is never too late to start walking with God.”

  “I should have known you’d have something like that to say,” Eli remarked, but there was no sting in his tone. He held out a hand. “Truce?”

  Leah relinquished her grip on the reins long enough to put one hand in Eli’s. “Truce.”

  They shook hands, then drove in silence for several moments.

  “Do you like living with Victor?” Leah finally inquired.

  “Ja,” Eli answered shortly, and Leah thought he sounded surprised by his own reply. “I wasn’t certain I would, at first. He is very strict, but now that I have been with him a while . . . he’s fair, too. That’s more important, I think.”

  “I think so, too.”

  “Watch out,” Eli said with a sudden grin. “We don’t want to start agreeing about too much.”

  “Do you know,” Leah said, “somehow, I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

  Honk. Honk!

  A big black car swept by, pulling out around the buggy with just inches to spare, blaring the horn. The Millers’ normally even-tempered horse snorted and shied, jerking the buggy, hard, toward the side of the road.

  Instantly Eli leaned over and placed his hands over Leah’s where she held the reins, adding his strength to hers as she struggled to control the frightened horse.

  “Easy, easy, now, girl,” he said. “Steady. Stay steady.”

  The horse gave one last toss of her head and then stopped, blowing hard through her nostrils.

  “Are you all right?” Eli asked.

  Leah nodded. Eli relinquished his hold on the reins and got out of the buggy. “What’s her name?” he asked Leah as he moved to the horse’s head, speaking quietly to the animal the whole time.

  “Blossom,” Leah told him. She watched as he ran his hand down the horse’s neck, soothing her. Leah could see that the horse was still trembling, but she was also watching Eli with interest. He let the mare sniff his hand, then he ran it down the side of her neck. Blossom nudged him with her head. A moment later, she leaned against Eli’s chest.

  “I think Blossom trusts you,” Leah observed.

  “I like horses,” he said simply. He kept stroking the mare. “That’s it, Blossom. There we go, girl.” His voice was low and reassuring, and Leah could see the horse calming. He glanced up and met Leah’s eyes. He gave a nod, as if to reassure her that everything was under control. After a few minutes, he climbed back into the buggy. The horse stood quietly.

  “Danki,” Leah said the moment Eli was back beside her. “She usually doesn’t startle like that. I’m not sure what happened, I—”

  “I know what happened,” Eli said, his tone grim. “That Englischer honked at us on purpose.”

  “Well,” Leah said, “thank God no harm was done.” She went to lift the reins and realized that her hands were trembling. “I feel so silly!” she exclaimed. “Maybe I should just have you drive us home.”

  Eli’s head whipped toward her as if pulled by a string. He opened his mouth to speak, closed it, then opened it again.

  “I can’t do that, Leah. I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Eli let out a long, slow breath. “You really don’t know, do you?”

  “No,” Leah answered steadily. “Whatever it is, I do not know.”

  “It’s because of how I hurt my leg, the reason I came to live with Victor in the first place,” Eli began. “Would you just—can you drive? I think this would be easier if we were moving.”

  By way of answer, Leah checked the road behind her, and then chirruped to the horse. Her easygoing temper restored, the mare pulled the buggy back onto the road once more.

  “I was in an accident, back home in Ohio,” Eli continued in a quiet voice. “My best friend, Reuben, and I were buggy racing, late at night.”

  “Buggy racing!” Leah exclaimed, then caught herself. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

  “That’s all right,” Eli said. “Your reaction is the sensible one. But Reuben and I didn’t think of the danger, or if we did, we thought it only added to the excitement.”

  “What happened?”

  “We took a curve too fast. The road was wet, and the buggy overturned. Both Reuben and I were thrown out. I hurt my leg, but Reuben ended up with a concussion and a broken collarbone, and his father’s buggy was destroyed.”

  “And the horse?”

  Eli’s lips curved in the faintest of smiles. “The horse was fine. But after I got out of the hospital, Mamm decided I should come to live with Victor for a while. I was too wild for her to handle, she said, and I would set a bad example for the little ones.”

  He sent Leah a sidelong look. “You’re sure you’ve never heard any of this before?”

  “Quite sure,” Leah answered firmly. “Nor have I heard anybody else speak of it, Eli.”

  “Not even your onkel?”

  “My onkel John is not a gossip,” Leah said.

  “No,” Eli acknowledged. “But Reuben’s father is the bishop of our district.”

  “Oh,” Leah said.

  “So you see my point. Somebody here besides Victor must know. I thought you all did. I thought—”

  “You thought we were talking about you behind your back,” Leah suddenly interrupted.

  “Ja,” Eli answered shortly.

  “Eli,” Leah said, “no one is talking about you. Not that I know of.” All of a sudden, she grinned. “Not in that way, anyhow. I have heard a couple of the other girls say they thought you were handsome. I didn’t pay much attention, myself.”

  “Did you not?” Eli asked after a moment.

  “No,” Leah said. “I am not that kind of girl.”

  “No, you’re not, are you?”

  Leah guided Blossom up one last hill. In just a few moments, the farm stand would come into view.

  “Leah,” Eli suddenly said, “you should stop and let me out.”

  “What?”

  “Stop the buggy and let me get down,” Eli insisted. “I can walk the rest of the way.”

  Leah opened her mouth to make a smart comeback about just whose reputation Eli wanted to protect, then closed it again with a snap. She thought she knew the answer now. Without another word, she guided the buggy to the shoulder and brought it to a halt. Eli climbed down.

  “Thank you again for stopping,” he said. “I’ll see you at the farm stand.”

  Before Leah could so much as utter a word, Eli strode off. Leah pulled back onto the road and completed the journey to her aunt and uncle’s home. It was only as she was carrying the precious new lamp into the house that she realized she had forgotten to
ask Eli what he’d been doing in town.

  Ten

  Miriam stood in the center of the kitchen, hands on hips, arms akimbo. Midday dinner was over, and the dishes were done. Daniel had gone back to the fields, and Sarah had walked to the farm stand to take some dinner to Leah and Eli. Miriam knew that she could follow her sister there, knew that maybe even she should. The farm stand was her responsibility now, after all. Or, if she stayed up at the house, the list of things she could be doing was at least as long as her arm.

  But for the first time in as long as she could remember, the first time ever, in fact, Miriam didn’t want to do anything on her usual to-do list. She didn’t want to walk back and forth to the farm stand one more time. She didn’t want to do a load of laundry so she could get some washing out on the line while the weather was still fine. She didn’t want to do any of the things she usually did. So what was she doing?

  Standing in the middle of the kitchen, doing nothing.

  And it had to stop. It had to stop right now.

  It seemed just a short while ago that she’d welcomed the day-to-day repetition. Now she turned in a slow circle, surveying the kitchen she so loved. How had her determination to carry on as if everything was normal become so strained?

  You know the answer to that well enough, Miriam Brennemann, she thought. Everything was not normal. It wasn’t normal at all.

  There had been days, this past week, when Miriam could have sworn the old farmhouse, spacious as it was, had been strained to the breaking point. Because there were four of them living in the old Lapp farmhouse. Daniel, Sarah, Miriam, and Silence. A silence that grew with every passing day. A silence so enormous and profound, it all but had its own shape and form. It sat beside Miriam and Daniel at the breakfast table each morning. Put its feet up on the footstool in the living room after supper each evening. It covered Miriam and Daniel like a winter quilt when they crawled into bed each night. The weight of the silence seemed to push Miriam down into the mattress so that she could hardly summon the strength to roll over. She awoke, bleary-eyed, to muscle her way through another day until finally she had no choice but to face the truth: