Summer Promise

by Marianne Ellis

  * * *

  “What do you think?” Eli asked.

  As Leah watched, he lifted one of the two produce display tables up by handholds he’d just finished carving underneath the tabletop. Then he took several steps. The table slid forward easily on the two sturdy wheels that were now affixed to the legs at the far end. Eli set the table down. He walked to the wheels and toed the locking mechanism down into position. Now the table would stay right where he’d put it.

  “It’s perfect!” Leah cried. She did her best not to clap her hands in delight, then gave in and did it anyhow. “Sort of like the world’s biggest cart!”

  “Something like that,” Eli said with a quick smile. He took a step back, surveying his handiwork. “You really think Miriam will like it?”

  “No,” Leah said, then bit her tongue to hold back a laugh at Eli’s stricken expression. “I don’t think, Eli. I know. She’ll never drop one of those table legs on her foot again. Not only that, one person can easily move the tables wherever they need to go. Think how much time we’ll save getting set up every morning and putting everything away at night.”

  “I was thinking of that,” Eli admitted. “I just wish I’d thought of it sooner. That way, I could have built them like this from the start. These tables are my second version.”

  “Well, you have made it right, now,” Leah said simply. “That will be enough.”

  Eli’s head swiveled toward her, an expression Leah couldn’t quite decipher in his green eyes.

  “You think it is so easy to correct a mistake?” he asked.

  Leah sucked in a breath to make a quick response, then hesitated. Somehow she didn’t think Eli was talking about display tables anymore. She released her breath slowly before she spoke.

  “Not always, no.” All of a sudden, she smiled. “If my aenti Rachel were here, I’m almost certain she’d say that it’s the mistakes that are the hardest to fix that are the ones we need to fix most of all.”

  “You like living with your aenti and onkel, don’t you?” Eli began to put his tools away, carefully stowing them in the toolbox.

  “Oh, ja,” Leah said at once. “But then, it’s all I’ve ever known. I don’t really remember my parents. I was so young when they died. How are things with Victor?”

  “Gut,” Eli replied. “Better than when I first arrived. What Mr. Tompkins said . . . and Daniel showing his faith in me by asking me to help rebuild the farm stand . . . those things helped a lot. Still . . .” He broke off and was silent for so long that Leah thought he wasn’t going to continue. “I am sorry to have disappointed Victor,” Eli said at last. “My mistake is a big one to correct.”

  “But you are working on it,” Leah said quietly.

  “Ja,” Eli said. “I am.”

  “Then if your brother is as fair as you say he is, he will see that.”

  “I hope he does,” Eli said.

  He continued to hold Leah’s gaze. The silence stretched out. Not uncomfortable, but not quite comfortable, either, Leah thought.

  “It’s getting late,” she said. “I should get home. I promised Aenti Rachel I would get supper started. She went into town to do some shopping while Onkel John is at the horse auction.”

  “Ja,” Eli replied. “I must get home also.” He fastened the lid on the toolbox, then stowed it on the workbench he’d set up in one corner. “I will come early tomorrow and put the wheels on the other table. Then we can wheel them over.”

  “That sounds good.”

  Together they left the building. Leah noted the way Eli held the door for her before locking it carefully behind him. He was taking the new responsibilities Daniel and Miriam had given him very seriously. He will make no mistakes with this, Leah thought.

  “That’s odd,” she suddenly said.

  “What?”

  “The back door to the farm stand is open.”

  “It’s probably just Sarah or Miriam,” Eli said.

  “It cannot be Sarah,” Leah told him. “She went into town with Aenti Rachel. But you’re right. It’s probably just Miriam.”

  “Do you want to take a look?”

  “I do.” Leah nodded, grateful that he understood. “I don’t mean to sound silly, it’s just—”

  “It’s just that everything is so new,” Eli filled in. “You don’t want anything to happen.”

  With Leah in the lead, the two walked the short distance between the two buildings. But as they approached the open doorway, Eli stepped in front of her. Leah opened her mouth to protest, then closed it with a snap. If there was danger, he would face it first.

  Leah held her breath as Eli eased his head in through the open door.

  “Leah,” he said. Just the two syllables of her name. But they made Leah’s blood run cold. Eli stepped inside the farm stand, pulling her with him.

  Miriam lay in a crumpled heap on the floor.

  With a cry of dismay, Leah darted forward to kneel at Miriam’s side. Her fingers trembled as she searched for a pulse. She found it, but it seemed to Leah that Miriam’s heart was beating far too fast, though maybe it was just her own.

  “Miriam?” she asked. “Can you tell me what happened?”

  But Miriam did not answer or open her eyes.

  “Is she—” Eli began.

  “She’s alive,” Leah said. “Her heart is beating. I think she’ll be all right.” She twisted her head to gaze up at Eli. “Do you know where the Kauffmans live?”

  “Ja.” Eli nodded. He crouched down beside Leah. “What about them?”

  “Ruth Kauffman is our dokterfraa. You must go to my aenti and onkel’s house, take the horse and buggy, and go and fetch Ruth Kauffman. Will you do that?”

  “Ja.” Eli hesitated for just a moment, then he said, “But I thought your aenti went into town.”

  “She did,” Rachel said. “But she and Sarah took Miriam and Daniel’s horse and buggy. Ours are in the barn at home.”

  “I will be quick,” Eli promised. “Try not to worry.”

  “I will do my best,” Leah said. “Danki, Eli.”

  He reached to grip her shoulder tightly, and then he was gone. Leah knelt beside Miriam, praying as she had never prayed before.

  Please, God, she thought. Let the words she’d spoken to Eli be true. Let Miriam be all right.

  Eighteen

  Miriam opened her eyes. The world around her swam slowly into view. She blinked for a moment and closed them again. She was in her own bed, in her own bedroom. Late afternoon sunlight streamed in through the window. The last thing she remembered was being in the farm stand, thinking about having to heat only the smaller building in the winter. How much time had passed since then? She turned her head and saw Daniel sitting in the bedroom chair, watching her with concern.

  “Daniel?” she asked softly.

  “Ja, Miriam. I am here,” Daniel said.

  “But,” Miriam protested, “the horse auction.”

  The bed dipped as Daniel sat down upon it. “Miriam,” he said, and even through the fog that still seemed to envelop her Miriam thought she could hear both the love and exasperation in her husband’s voice. “I think that you are more important than some old horse auction. Besides . . .” Gently Daniel captured one of her hands, covered it with both his own. “I was already on my way home.”

  As if from a great distance, Miriam heard the sound of her own laughter, marveled at the gentle, loving sound.

  “Ah!” The door to the bedroom opened and the dokterfraa, Ruth Kauffman, stuck her head in. “I gather she is awake and feeling better.”

  “I think so,” Daniel answered with a smile.

  “Oh, Ruth. I did not know that Daniel sent for you,” Miriam said. She began to push herself upright but Daniel pressed her back onto the pillows with a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I am sorry to be so much trouble.”

&nb
sp; “It is no trouble,” the dokterfraa said simply. “And it wasn’t Daniel, it was Leah Gingerich and Eli King. They are the ones who found you this morning. You have been sleeping now for hours.”

  “What?” Miriam lifted her free hand to rub her forehead. “I’m sorry. I guess I don’t remember . . . Am I ill? Is something wrong with me?”

  “Not a thing,” Ruth said. “As a matter of fact, unless I am very much mistaken, a great deal is well.”

  “Then why . . .” Miriam began. All of a sudden, she caught her breath. She looked up into Daniel’s face. Never, or so it seemed to her, had she seen it so suffused with joy. A great and terrible hope bloomed in Miriam’s heart.

  “I am . . . that is, could I be . . .”

  “Pregnant?” the dokterfraa said. “I believe so, yes. I must ask, have you missed any of your courses recently?”

  “They’ve been irregular,” Miriam answered, slightly embarrassed to be discussing women’s matters like this in front of her husband.

  Ruth nodded. “You must also see an Englischer doctor this week, to be certain, and also to make sure there are no problems. You did pass out, ja? But to my eyes, all the signs are there, and I can see nothing wrong with you at the moment.”

  “A baby,” Miriam whispered, placing her hand over her belly. “After so long.”

  “Your mother took a long time to conceive, also, as I recall,” Ruth said. “But it seems for you, as for her, God has many gifts to bestow.”

  Miriam brought Daniel’s hand to her cheek. “Ja,” she said softly. “I know He does.”

  “Well,” Ruth said, “I will leave the two of you alone now. See that she rests today, Daniel.”

  “I will,” Daniel promised.

  The dokterfraa left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

  “Oh, Daniel, I can hardly believe it!” Miriam said. “A baby! Why now after all this time?”

  “God has a reason for everything,” Daniel said. “For myself, I do not need to know why. All I want to do is to give thanks.”

  “Ja,” Miriam said. “And so do I.”

  This time when she moved to sit upright, Daniel did not stop her. Instead, he moved over so that they sat side by side, and he took her hand in his. Her heart as full of joy as she could ever remember it being, Miriam bowed her head along with Daniel as they thanked God for all the gifts He had already bestowed upon them, and all the ones that were yet to come.

  Nineteen

  A baby!” Leah cried. “Oh, but that’s wonderful!”

  “It is,” Aenti Rachel agreed. “But, Leah, it is not our way to speak so openly about a woman with child when it is still so early. It is only because you and Eli found Miriam when she was unconscious that so many of us are here now—and know the good news.”

  “Ja, Aenti, I understand,” Leah said. “I must be very patient and not tell anyone else.”

  “Sometimes seeing God’s work takes patience,” Bishop John said. “Miriam and Daniel have waited a long time.”

  The three were gathered in the farmhouse kitchen, along with Daniel’s parents, Sarah, and Victor and Eli King. Amelia Brennemann had made coffee and brought out some of Miriam’s homemade rolls while they waited for news of her health. Ruth Kauffman had just gone home, after assuring them that Miriam was resting comfortably. It was Daniel who had told them the glad tidings, when he came down from the bedroom to thank Leah and Eli.

  Bishop John cleared his throat. “Eli, I must speak of a matter that involves you.”

  “No, Onkel John,” Leah said at once, then she flushed as she became the focus of all eyes. She took a quick breath, willing her voice to remain steady. “I know Eli wasn’t supposed to drive. But it was an emergency. Surely he should not be punished for that. But if you decide he must be punished, then you must punish me as well. I was the one who asked him to take the horse and buggy and go for the dokterfraa.”

  “Which we are very grateful for,” Sarah said quickly.

  Bishop John didn’t seem to notice Sarah’s comment. He was focused on his niece. “Thank you, Leah,” he said. “But I have no intention of punishing Eli. In fact, I think there has been quite enough of that.” Bishop John switched his attention to Eli himself, standing silently beside his older brother. “Wouldn’t you agree, Eli?”

  Eli’s eyes grew wide. “It is not a matter for me to decide,” he replied.

  “John,” said Victor quietly, “may we know what you are talking about?”

  “A number of days ago, I received a letter,” Bishop John explained. “It was from Isaac Wittmer, who is the bishop of the district in Ohio where Eli’s mother lives. In it, he tells me that you weren’t driving the buggy when it crashed that day, Eli. Instead, it was his son, Reuben. Is this true?”

  “Ja. It is true,” Eli said softly.

  “What do you mean it’s true?” Leah burst out before she could stop herself. “All these months you’ve been letting people believe you did something wrong!”

  “I did do something wrong,” Eli replied. “I did not drive the buggy, it is true, but I didn’t stop the race, either.”

  “That still does not tell me why you did not tell the truth,” the bishop said.

  “I wasn’t trying to tell a lie,” Eli said quickly. “I just thought perhaps it was not my truth to tell. If I spoke, then Reuben never would, and it seemed to me that it was important that he make his own peace with God. If he could do that . . .” Eli’s voice trailed off.

  “Danki, Eli,” Bishop John said. “I think that I have heard enough. I must speak to the deacons, of course, but I will give them my recommendation that your punishment be lifted. You may have made an error in judgment when you took part in a buggy race, but since then I think your behavior has been beyond reproach.”

  Leah tried not to smile as she saw Eli blush at her onkel’s words.

  “I am proud to have you as a member of our community,” Bishop John went on. “But Bishop Isaac writes that, now that they know the truth, there are many in your settlement who would like to welcome you back to Ohio.”

  Eli’s eyes shot to Leah’s face, then dropped. “I would like to speak with my mother first, if I may. And to Victor, also.”

  “You must take all the time you need, Eli,” said Bishop John. He got to his feet. “I think that now that we know Miriam is well, perhaps it is time for all of us to go home.”

  “I will look in tomorrow if I may,” Rachel said as she, too, rose. “I don’t imagine Miriam will want to stay in bed for long.”

  “I think you are right about that!” Sarah answered with a laugh. “Let me walk you out.”

  “We’ll go, too,” Amelia said. “Martin, don’t you think now would be a fine time to talk to Victor about that matter you wished to discuss?”

  “What?” Martin asked. “Oh, ja, of course. Victor, I’ve been meaning to ask you . . .”

  Seizing Eli’s brother by the arm, he marched him out the kitchen door. In the space of no more than a moment, Leah and Eli were left alone.

  He stood across the table from Leah, arms loosely at his sides. For the first and only time since they had met, it seemed to Leah that Eli was at a loss. He would not meet her eyes.

  “What will you do?” she asked. “Will you stay or go?”

  “That depends,” Eli said.

  Leah felt a familiar spurt of irritation. What was it about Eli, she wondered, that got under her skin so? He’d done it from the day they’d first met.

  “Well, of course it depends,” she said tartly. “The question is, on what?”

  Eli smiled. He lifted his head and looked Leah straight in the eye. “On whether or not I have a good enough reason to stay, of course.”

  Leah’s heart began to pound. “What kind of a reason?” she asked.

  “If I have to tell you, that settles it,” Eli answered. “I’m goin
g back to Ohio.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t,” Leah said.

  “How much do you wish it?” Eli asked.

  Leah put her hands on her hips. She was trying to look severe, but she was unable to hold back a smile. It seemed Eli wasn’t the only one who could get underneath somebody’s skin.

  “Eli King,” she said, “that’s enough. If you want to know more, you’ll just have to be patient.”

  “I can do that,” Eli said. He flashed that grin that Leah used to find so wicked but that now filled her heart with joy. “And do you know what else I can do? Soon I will be able to drive a courting buggy, won’t I?”

  Now Leah was the one who smiled.

  Twenty

  Twins!” Miriam exclaimed. She gazed at the Englisch doctor in astonishment. Her hand reached out for Daniel’s, silently seeking support. She felt him grasp her fingers, thread his own through them, and hold on tight. “Twins? You are sure?”

  “As sure as I can be at this stage of the pregnancy,” Dr. Harrington said with a smile.

  At Ruth Kauffman’s insistence, Miriam had made an appointment to see an Englisch doctor in town. Annaliese had been a patient of Dr. Harrington’s during her first pregnancy. The doctor was an older woman who was trusted and well liked within the Plain community.

  “Twins,” Miriam said once more. “After all this time?”

  “God has given us a very special gift.” Daniel spoke quietly.

  “Ja,” Miriam answered swiftly. She gave his hand a squeeze. “That is so.”

  “Is there anything special we need to know or do?” Daniel asked Dr. Harrington. “This fainting, will it happen again?”

  “I don’t think so. But I do think you need to be sensible about the amount of work you do, Miriam. I know it’s too much to ask a Plain woman to sit down and put her feet up . . .”

  Miriam smiled.

  “But it may come to that as the months go along. Why don’t you come back and see me in . . .” The doctor consulted a laptop computer. “About three weeks’ time. Though of course you should call if you have any questions or concerns. You have a phone at the farm stand, don’t you?”