A Merry Heart

by Wanda E. Brunstetter

  She turned down the burner on the stove and took a seat at the table across from him. “If it’s about you and Grace, I already know.”

  “Jah, Amos told me he’d let the cat out of the bag. I’m sorry you had to hear it secondhand. I was planning to tell you, but I was just waiting for the right time.”

  “Didn’t you think I could handle the news? Don’t you know by now that I can handle most anything that comes my way—even disappointments?” Miriam’s voice sounded harsh even to her own ears.

  “You’re disappointed because Grace and I plan to be married?” Lewis shook his head. “I never expected you to be jealous.”

  It was true. Miriam was jealous, but she never would have admitted that to her brother. “This has nothing to do with jealousy. It has to do with the fact that you told Amos, who isn’t even a family member, before you told me, your only sister.” She paused for a breath. “With so many other changes having gone on in our lives lately, this news is a bit too much to take.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “First, Papa dies, and then Rebekah gets injured. Next, Mom moves out of the house, and now I have to move out, as well.”

  “I don’t expect you to move out. This is your home, too, and I want you to stay here as long as you like.”

  “I’m sure you’re only saying that to be kind, Lewis. I would never dream of staying on here once you and Grace are married. It wouldn’t be fair to either of you. And quite frankly, I’m not sure I would enjoy it much, either.”

  Lewis’s forehead wrinkled. “Why not?”

  “I’ve had complete control of the household for several months now, and another woman in the house would be a difficult adjustment. I have my own ways of doing things, and I’m certain Grace has hers, as well.”

  “But I’m sure Grace would be most understanding,” Lewis argued. “Besides, she’ll probably need your help with a lot of things.”

  Miriam shook her head. “For a time she might, but soon she would come to think of the house as hers and want to run it her own way. It’s only normal that she would, and I won’t stand in her way. Besides, you newlyweds will need your privacy. When is the wedding to take place? Have you set a date yet?”

  “We’re planning to be married on the third Thursday of November.”

  Miriam nodded stiffly. “Maybe I’ll see if Mom’s willing to move back home, and then I could move in with Andrew and Sarah when the time gets closer to the wedding.”

  “I suppose there’s nothing I can say to change your mind?”

  “No, nothing.”

  I

  “I can’t believe I was dumb enough to propose to Miriam this morning,” Amos mumbled as he traveled down the road in his buggy toward the Weavers’ place, where his daughter had spent the previous night and would be waiting for him to pick her up. “Now Miriam’s really convinced that I only want to marry her for the sake of convenience.”

  He gave his horse the signal to trot, hoping a brisker ride might smooth the edges of his frayed nerves a bit. All day he had berated himself for everything he’d said to Miriam—first telling her about Lewis’s plans to marry Grace; then asking her to marry him; and finally, allowing her to believe he didn’t love her, but only wanted a mother for Mary Ellen. What a dummkopp he had been!

  I do love Miriam and have for a long time, he thought ruefully. But what good is that if she doesn’t return my feelings? Miriam had made it clear by her actions that she felt no love for Amos, and today, when she’d actually spoken the words, he had been crushed. At that point he would have made a bigger fool of himself if he had opened his heart to her, and he was sure her response would have only pierced him further by a firm rejection.

  “Well, I won’t ask again,” he shouted into the wind. “If Miriam changes her mind, then she’ll have to come to me.”

  I

  On Monday after school let out for the day, Miriam went to Strasburg to do some shopping. As she passed a boardinghouse situated on a quiet street on the south side of town, she remembered Nick mentioning that his aunt ran a boardinghouse. Miriam thought this particular home, tall and stately, shaded by leafy elm trees, and surrounded by a white picket fence, looked like the perfect place to live. It would offer solitude, seclusion, and no more farm duties or household chores to take up her time. Living in a boardinghouse would probably mean that all of her meals would be provided, and her only real responsibilities would be to keep her room clean and, of course, continue to teach at the Amish schoolhouse.

  Just think of all the free time I would have for reading, quilting, and visiting friends and family, she told herself. But of course, that idea was about as ridiculous as the thought of her marrying Amos Hilty. The boardinghouse wasn’t run by anyone Amish, which was obvious by the electrical wires running to it. And Miriam was too committed to her family to do anything that would hurt them or get her shunned.

  She moved on down the street but had only taken a few steps when she bumped into a man. Her mouth dropped open. “Nick!”

  I

  Nick couldn’t believe his good fortune. He had run into Miriam twice in one week, and that pleased him more than he cared to admit. He smiled and winked at her. “It’s good to see you again, Miriam. I’ve been thinking about you and wondering how you’re doing.”

  “I’m managing.”

  “You’re looking well—as beautiful as ever in fact.”

  Miriam wrinkled her nose. “Are you trying to flatter me?”

  “Not at all.” He took a step toward her. “So, what are you doing in this neck of the woods?”

  “I was about to ask you the same question.”

  “My aunt lives here.” He turned and pointed to the stately home Miriam had been admiring. “That’s the boardinghouse she runs. Too bad you don’t live in Strasburg. I come here frequently to see my aunt, and if you lived in Strasburg, we’d be able to see each other more often, too.”

  Miriam’s cheeks turned pink, and she stared at the ground.

  “If we saw each other more, we’d be able to find out if we could ever see eye-to-eye on anything.”

  “I—I would like to move,” Miriam said as she lifted her gaze to meet his. “But it won’t be here.”

  “How come?”

  “I’m sure you know why, Nick. An Amish woman’s place is with her family.”

  “What if your family lived here? Then would you consider moving?”

  “Of course, but I have no family living in Strasburg.”

  “What if I was your family?”

  “Wh–what are you saying?” she croaked, her voice all but gone.

  “I’m saying that you could marry me. I’m not getting any younger, and maybe it’s time I settled down with a good woman—and a beautiful one at that.”

  Miriam’s face turned even redder, and he noticed that perspiration had beaded up on her forehead.

  “You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?” she asked in a near whisper.

  “No, I’m not. Listen, I’ve surprised myself as much as I have you by popping the question, but now that I have, I kind of like the idea.” Nick scrubbed his hand across his chin, realizing that he’d forgotten to shave that morning. “You know, I never thought I’d hear myself say this, but the thought of coming home at night to a good, home-cooked meal and a beautiful wife waiting for me is kind of appealing.”

  He took another step toward her and was glad when she didn’t back away. “I know we’re about as different as your buggy horse and my sports car, but maybe we could make it work. After all, we do seem to find one another easy to talk to, and there’s a certain kind of chemistry between us. In fact, this could turn out to be the adventure of our lives.”

  “But. . .but—I would have to leave the Amish faith if I were to marry an outsider,” she stammered. “I’d be excommunicated and shunned by my family and friends.”

  Nick reached for her hand and pulled her toward his car. “Let’s go for a ride and talk this over.”

  A
t first, Miriam looked as if she might go with him, but then she halted and slowly shook head. “You’ve not said anything about love, Nick.”

  He shrugged and pulled his fingers through the back of his hair. “Who says there has to be love in a marriage? There’s chemistry between us; you can’t deny it.”

  “I could never marry without love, and leaving my faith to marry you is impossible.” She turned on her heel and started to walk away, but he reached out and took hold of her arm so she was facing him again.

  “If two people are as attracted to each other as I believe we are, then nothing else should matter.”

  Tears pooled in Miriam’s eyes, and she pulled away. “I–I’m sure you meant well, asking me to leave my faith and marry you, but I can’t. We hardly know each other, and even if we did, I think we both know that things could never work out between us. My faith has weakened in the last several months, but I won’t let my family down by leaving our church for a relationship that’s built on nothing more than a physical attraction.”

  “Is that your final word?”

  “It has to be.” She turned toward her buggy, parked across the street. “I need to go. I have chores to do at home.”

  Nick felt a strange mixture of relief and disappointment as he watched Miriam climb into her buggy. He didn’t know what had come over him to pop the question like that, and now he felt kind of stupid. It wasn’t his style to let his guard down like that or make himself so vulnerable. Asking Miriam to marry him, when they were so different, bordered on ridiculous. Maybe that was why he’d proposed—because he knew it would never work and that she would say no.

  As Miriam was about to pull away from the curb, Nick gathered his wits and called, “I wish you the best, Miriam. If you ever need a shoulder to cry on or just want to talk, you know where to reach me.”

  I

  Miriam sat up in bed and wiped the perspiration from her forehead. She’d been dreaming about three men. First there had been William Graber, smiling and waving at her as he drove away in his buggy with his new bride. Then Nick McCormick had come onto the scene, traipsing after her with his camera and calling her “fair lady.” Miriam had pulled her dark bonnet down over her face, and when she removed it again, Nick was gone. Amos Hilty stood before her, holding a bouquet of pansies. What did that strange dream mean? she wondered. Was there any significance to it?

  She glanced at the clock on the table by her bed and frowned. It was only four in the morning. She didn’t have to get up for another hour, yet she was afraid to go back to sleep. What if her dream continued? She didn’t want to think about William, Nick, or Amos. For that matter, it would suit her fine if she never thought of any man ever again!

  As the months flew by and Lewis’s wedding drew closer, Miriam began to feel a sense of panic. Mom wasn’t willing to move back home and allow Miriam to take her place at Andrew and Sarah’s, so Miriam had about decided that she would have to stay at the house with Lewis and Grace after they were married. She hoped the newlyweds would understand and that she would be able to handle not being in charge of the house once Grace took over.

  One morning on the way to school, Miriam passed Amos’s rig. He and Mary Ellen were obviously headed for the schoolhouse. Mary Ellen leaned out the window and waved. “Hello, Teacher Mim!”

  Miriam waved in response and urged her horse into a trot. She didn’t think it would be right for any of her students to arrive at school before their teacher did.

  As she pulled into the school yard a short time later, she was relieved to see that none of the other children were there yet. She halted her horse, climbed down from the buggy, and had just started to unhitch the mare when the Hiltys showed up.

  Miriam watched as Amos got out and went around to help his daughter down. In spite of her mistrust of the man, she had to admit that he was a good father, and Mary Ellen obviously loved him very much.

  Just as the child stepped down from the buggy, her foot snagged in the hem of her dress. She looked down and gasped. “It’s torn! Pappy, please don’t make me go to school today. The others will laugh at me; I just know they will.”

  The sympathetic look Amos first gave his daughter turned to obvious frustration. “I can’t do anything about your dress right now, Mary Ellen. We’ll take it over to Maudie Miller’s after school lets out. She can mend it for you then.”

  Mary Ellen shot him an imploring look. “No, Pappy, please. I don’t want to wait that long.”

  Feeling the child’s embarrassment as if it were her own, Miriam stepped forward. “Let me get my horse put in the corral, and then we’ll go inside the schoolhouse. I’ll mend your dress before the others get here.”

  When Amos turned to face Miriam, he wore a look of astonishment. “Would you really do that for her? Do you have the necessary tools?”

  Miriam gave a small laugh. “You needn’t be so surprised, Amos. In spite of what some may say about me, I’ve actually been known to do a few acts of kindness.”

  “I—I didn’t mean to say—”

  “Never mind. Just go on your way, and Mary Ellen will be fine.”

  “Well, let me take care of your horse then.”

  “Danki.” Miriam put her hand across Mary Ellen’s back and guided her toward the schoolhouse; then she turned back and called to Amos, “Oh, and by the way—you don’t use tools to sew, but I do keep a small kit full of sewing supplies in my desk for such an emergency as this.”

  Amos mumbled something under his breath and headed over to Miriam’s buggy to unhitch the horse.

  When Miriam entered the schoolhouse with Mary Ellen, she saw right away that the child’s face was streaked with tears. The first thing she did was to dip a clean cloth into the bucket of water she kept nearby and gently wipe the little girl’s face. “Now stand on this chair while I hem up your dress,” she instructed.

  “How come?”

  “It would be quicker and easier if your dress was off, but some of the other kinner may arrive soon, and you wouldn’t want to be caught without your dress on, would you?”

  Mary Ellen shook her head. “No, Teacher Mim.”

  “Now, hold real still, and no rutsching.”

  “I’ll try not to squirm, I promise.”

  Miriam threaded a needle and began the task of putting Mary Ellen’s hem back into place. When the job was completed, Mary Ellen smiled happily and jumped down from the chair. “Danki, Teacher. You did a good job, and it looks real nice now.”

  “Gern gschehne—you are welcome,” Miriam replied as the door opened and three of the Hoelwarth boys burst into the room.

  She was glad the sewing job had been completed, because the Hoelwarths were all teases, and they would probably have taunted Mary Ellen if they’d seen her standing on a chair getting her dress mended.

  I

  All the way home, Amos thought about Miriam and how she had seemed so concerned about Mary Ellen’s torn dress.

  “Miriam has a lot of good in her, Lord,” he said out loud. “Trouble is she doesn’t seem to know it. So maybe what we need here is some way to bring out all that goodness.”

  Keeping his focus straight ahead, Amos guided his horse and buggy down the road, allowing his thoughts to wander back to the day when he and Miriam were still kinner in school. . . .

  I

  “Let’s get a game of baseball going,” Noah Troyer shouted when the school children were dismissed for morning recess.

  Amos always enjoyed a good game of ball, so he eagerly grabbed the baseball glove from under his desk and headed outside to the playground. It was a hot, humid day, and before he joined the game, he made a quick trip to the pump around back for a drink of water. He came across Miriam and her youngest brother, Lewis, whose face was wet with tears. “I wanna play ball,” the boy wailed, “but Noah says I’m too young, and he told me to go play on the swings with the girls.”

  Miriam dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around her brother. “It’s okay. You and I can have our own
game of ball.”

  Lewis looked up at her, and a slight smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Really?”

  She nodded. “I was going to read for a while, but I’ll go inside and get a ball from Teacher Leah.”

  Amos was tempted to ask if he might join in their game, but the shyness he felt whenever he was around girls prevented him from saying anything. So he gave the pump handle a couple of thrusts and took a big drink of water.

  Miriam’s got such a kind heart, he thought, as he headed over to the ball field a few minutes later. Someday, if I ever get up the nerve, I’m gonna ask that girl to marry me.

  I

  “Well, I’ve finally asked her to marry me,” Amos mumbled, as his thoughts returned to the present. “But unless God changes Miriam’s heart, I’ll never have the chance to show how much I love her.”

  A truck sped by Amos’s buggy just then, causing the horse to spook and veer off to the left. Amos gripped the reins and shouted, “Whoa, there. Steady, boy!”

  He struggled to gain control of the skittish animal, but it was too late. The buggy flipped onto its side as the horse broke free and took off down the road. Except for a couple of bumps and bruises, Amos was relieved that he had escaped serious injury. The last thing Mary Ellen needed was to lose another parent or to have him end up in the hospital.

  He reached over and pushed the opposite door of the buggy open, then crawled out. “That’s what I get for letting my mind wander and not paying better attention to my driving,” he muttered. “Now I’ve got a buggy to repair, not to mention a runaway horse that needs to be found.”

  I

  The morning went by quickly, and soon it was lunchtime. Miriam watched as Mary Ellen opened her metal lunch box. The child ate hungrily, but Miriam was appalled to see what Amos had given his daughter to eat. The contents of the lunch box revealed a biscuit, some dried beef jerky, a green apple, and a bottle of water.