His declaration struck her mute.
“The foals are weaned. I will give the rest of the money from your dat to Matthew Eicher. He will do a gute job training your horse.”
Miriam felt so low, she could have fit under the crack in the door. “I don’t want Matthew Eicher to train my horse.”
He raised his chin and looked away from her. “All the same, I’ll not do it.”
Her tears were so close to the surface, Miriam did not dare speak.
Seeing him standing there, chin high, muscles tense, Miriam chastised herself. How could she even compare her pain to Seth’s? She had a beautiful foal, a loving family, and the man she had always wanted. Her life was good. It was pure selfishness to feel sorry for herself because Seth Lambright did not want to be her friend anymore.
“Which of the foals do you want?” he said.
Miriam took several deep breaths. “I’ll take the filly.”
Seth would get more money for the colt when he sold it. It was the only thing she could give him.
Puzzlement flitted across his features, and then he nodded. “I will make the arrangements with Matthew tomorrow.” He went to his sleeping room and brought out a thick wool blanket. “Put this over your legs on the ride home. It is mighty cold.”
She took it from his hands, and he raced out the door before she had a chance to say thank you.
He was gone. Gone for good.
Chapter 29
The morning light shone grayish purple, as if someone had spread a gauzy black curtain over the sun. Clouds rolled lazily from the west, promising snow, but maybe not until later afternoon. Sunlight peeked through the gloom to the east, but Seth paid it no heed. As far as he was concerned, there was no sun in the sky and he’d be a fool to hope for it.
Nathaniel King helped him carry in the last of the Sheetrock from the warehouse truck. Twenty-three men stood inside the house, ready to hang it. It was a gute day to be out of the cold. As gute a day as any for a Sheetrock frolic. Even his dat had come to help the neighbors finish Seth’s house.
The front door opened to a hallway with a sitting room on the left, situated so that at a future date, he could knock out the side wall and expand the room for gmay. In the hall to the right climbed a set of stairs leading up to the bedrooms. Down the hall stood the kitchen, the biggest room in the house. Seth’s mamm had always told him the kitchen was the heart of the home, and he wanted his home to have a big heart. A roomy back porch opened up behind the kitchen and washroom, where someone could sit in the shade and look at the pastures and stable beyond. Seth used to spend hours with Mamm on his own back porch, shelling peas or shucking corn after harvest. The memories did not warm his heart today, but he kept hold of them in hopes of better times.
Up the stairs, Seth had framed four bedrooms. He wanted ample room for his siblings—the house would be full before it was even finished.
Two of the men, Enos Glick and Sol Gingerich, Sheetrocked houses for a living. They supervised everyone else in how to hang it most efficiently. Saws and hammers created continuous noise as men worked on both floors at once. Seth picked up a battery-operated drill and went to work in the kitchen. Benjamin Yoder and Ike Weaver measured and scored the drywall while Seth and Nathaniel King hung it. Seth’s muscles ached and his lungs burned as he pushed himself hard enough to force the painful memories out of his head. He would rather think about his throbbing shoulder and sore arms than his broken heart.
It didn’t help when John and Yost Bontrager showed up. John had passed on enough of his look to his daughter to bring Miriam quickly to mind as soon as Seth saw him.
Seth heard three or four people call out. “Bishop!” Oh yes. John was the bishop now—the reason why Seth had lost Miriam. He had no doubt about Ephraim’s motives. Miriam was worthy of Ephraim Neuenschwander again, and Seth was unworthy of her. He caught his breath and faced the truth. He had always been unworthy of her.
John marched into the kitchen with Yost close behind. “Sorry we are late. We had to drop Miriam somewhere this morning.”
Yost shook his head and grinned. “At Ephraim’s. She’s always with Ephraim.”
Seth puzzled why this information should give him such a crippling stab of pain right to the chest. He already knew how Miriam spent her time. Why did he let it bother him?
John’s face turned slightly pink, and he pushed Yost toward the hall. “Go upstairs and start there.”
Yost studied Seth, who tried to make his expression as cheerful as possible. Where John’s color deepened, Yost blanched as he gazed at Seth and realization caught up with him. “Oh.” He slumped his shoulders. “Okay.”
They turned away. “I’m sorry, Dat,” Yost said as they disappeared down the newly Sheetrocked hall. “I should have known.”
Seth let the feeling wash over him, drown him. He had a small sense of what his mother must have felt when she lost the will to go on living. But he would not give in to it. Priscilla and the boys needed him. He would find the strength for them, even if he didn’t have the heart for himself.
Sol came into the kitchen. “They are mudding and taping upstairs already. We will send out a call for two more nights this week. If you can sand in between our coming, we can paint on Saturday.”
Seth let that piece of news cheer him up. “Denki. I appreciate all the help.”
“I wouldn’t have a roof on my barn if not for my gute neighbors. It is a blessing to be a fellow citizen in Christ.”
Seth heard the patter of small feet in his hall. Jacob and Joshua ran into the kitchen, and Seth had just enough time to deposit his screws and drill before they leaped into his arms.
“It looks wonderful-gute,” Joshua said. “Like a real house.”
Jacob held on to Seth as if he were afraid to let go. “Ellie is coming in. Can we stay here for supper?”
“A letter came today,” Joshua said. He pulled it from his pocket and handed it to Seth. The second one this week from Laura.
“Go look upstairs at the bedrooms,” Seth said. “It wonders me what room you would choose if you could choose one.”
His brothers raced away so quickly, it was almost as if they were never there.
Seth took off his gloves and opened Laura’s letter.
By the time you get this letter I will be on a bus to Apple Lake, so you can’t talk me out of it. Don’t worry, I’m not coming home for good. But both Joshua and Jacob have written and say you are looking miserable. You tried to cover it up in your letter, but I know how you must be feeling. That girl wouldn’t know a good thing if it bit her in her superior little hinnerdale. See you soon.
Laura
Seth wadded up the letter and stuffed it in his pocket. He wished Laura wouldn’t bother. She couldn’t afford to miss school or take a bus home, and any mention of Miriam only made things worse. Much worse.
Ellie entered the kitchen with Priscilla. Priscilla looked around the room wide-eyed. “Oh, it looks like a real house now. What color are you going to paint the walls? Mandy has wallpaper with flowers in her kitchen. Will you do wallpaper, Seth?”
Seth patted Scilla on the head and pulled her close. Her presence made him feel like he might be able to breathe for a few minutes.
It was the first time Ellie had been on the property for months. She hadn’t even seen the outer walls go up.
“Small,” she said as she turned her nose in the air and examined his kitchen. “But there is only one of you. I suppose it will do.”
Seth pointed to the basket Priscilla had hung on her arm. “What is in the basket?”
“Banana bread,” Ellie said. “Your dat rushed through breakfast because he didn’t want to be late for your little frolic. You shouldn’t have made it seem so important. He needs a hearty breakfast or his blood sugar crashes. A more thoughtful boy would have let his fater finish his food.”
Seth counted his blessings that he hadn’t really spoken with Ellie for weeks. He spent all his time with his horses if he wasn’t w
orking at the mill. When he did sleep at home, he came in late at night when everyone else was abed. It was easier for him to be away from Ellie, but it troubled him how hard his absence was on the children. Three weeks ago Joshua sported an angry welt on his neck where Ellie had slapped him.
Could his siblings live in a house with bare walls and unfinished floors? He regarded Ellie’s hard mouth and piercing eyes. Could they live in a house without affection and kindness?
“Ellie, could we go to the back porch and have a talk?”
She immediately became hostile. Narrowing her eyes, she pressed her mouth into that inflexible line. “It is cold out there.”
“Priscilla, take the basket to Dat. We will be right back.” Seth motioned in the direction of the back door, making sure Ellie knew he wouldn’t take no for an answer.
Ellie led the way, taking small ladylike steps. When Seth shut the door behind them, she turned on her heels to face him. “They told you, didn’t they? Probably came to your stable begging for food.”
Seth had no idea what she was talking about, but he didn’t interrupt. He would let her dig her own grave. Folding his arms, he pinned her with a stern eye.
Ellie braced her hands on her hips. “Did they also tell you how they tracked mud and snow all over my floor after I spent two hours polishing it? It was a shameful mess. I told those boys that if they wouldn’t walk with care in my kitchen, then they couldn’t come in at all.”
It took all the self-control Seth could muster not to explode with outrage. He pressed his lips together to keep his anger from escaping. Only when he was certain he could control his raw emotions did he speak. “How long was it before you let them eat?”
“What happens between a mother and her children is private. They know better than to tattle to you.”
“How long, Ellie?”
“All day. They needed to appreciate how long I spent polishing the floor.”
Seth thought he might be sick with fury.
One day last week the boys hadn’t come to the stable. They were prisoners, starving in their own home. Seth wanted to growl in frustration for not being there.
He turned from Ellie and leaned against the wall for support. His forced breath was ragged and halting as he thought with horror about what she had done. Was it time for persuasion? Or blackmail? Would Ellie let him have the children if he threatened to tell the police?
“The boys told me nothing. It is irritating how loud a guilty conscience screams, isn’t it?”
“You’re lying to protect them. How else would you have known?”
“You just told me.”
Ellie opened her mouth then clapped it shut as she recognized her mistake. Scowling, she grabbed the doorknob, but Seth pressed his hand against the door so she couldn’t open it.
“What do you want?”
Just in time, Seth decided the wiser course of action to be persuasion. If Ellie were backed into a corner, she would refuse to give Seth anything. “I do not aim to chastise you. The kinner are careless, and you must do what you feel is right.” Seth almost choked on his lies, but Ellie’s expression softened a bit. “You and Dat are barely married, and you have to care for three children. I know it must be hard.”
“Not a day goes by that I don’t have a headache.”
“I want you and Dat to have some time alone, like all newlyweds should. Why could the children not live with me? Then you could have your privacy. You deserve it.”
Ellie folded her arms and glared at him suspiciously. “Why would you want them?”
“You and Dat should get more of a chance alone. And I am at the stable so much that I never get to see my brothers and sister. I miss them.”
“What about money? I am saving up for a cruise. How much would you want us to give you?”
“Nothing. I will be able to buy enough groceries with the extra money from the horses.”
A light turned on in Ellie’s eyes, but she proceeded cautiously. “This is a nice big house. The kitchen is almost as big as mine.”
“I will bring a stove in once the floor is laid so we will be plenty warm. They could move in next week. Then you and Dat could spend Christmas alone together.”
Generosity saturated Ellie’s smile. “But you all must come for Christmas dinner. I will make a special Christmas dinner.”
And that was that. Seth didn’t need to say a word to Dat. Ellie would talk him into it by suppertime.
He opened the door and let Ellie into the house. If he didn’t ache so badly for Miriam, he might almost feel relieved.
Chapter 30
Ephraim sat next to Miriam as she hand-stitched the binding on Susie’s baby quilt by the light of a lantern. “What do you think about getting married next November?” he said.
Miriam looked up from her sewing as a dull ache settled into her stomach. Ephraim wanted to move so fast. Next November was too soon.
She stuck a pin in the cushion bracelet around her wrist. Six months ago she would have jumped at the chance to move her wedding up a year. Now, something didn’t feel right.
She gave him a half smile. “Two years from now. I haven’t worked for most of the winter. Surely you can see the wisdom in waiting until we both have more saved up. Bishop Schwartz would approve of that plan.”
“There are other ways to get money. You could make quilts to sell.”
“Jah, of course.”
“What about the foal at Matthew Eicher’s? Your dat bought her as a wedding present. I am sure he wouldn’t care if we sold it.”
“That is not funny, Ephraim.”
He took the quilt from her hands and laid it next to him on the sofa. Then he raised his eyebrows and willed her to make eye contact. “I am not joking. You know how I feel about this. Girls riding horses should not be allowed.”
Miriam furrowed her brow. “Both Bishop Schwartz and my dat say it is okay.”
“But many districts in other areas do not. Besides, when we marry, you will be too busy with kinner and such to ride. And we will get more money for it if we sell it now.”
“I could not think of selling it.”
Ephraim stuck out his bottom lip. “ ‘For of this sort are they which creep into houses, and lead captive silly women.’”
“You are irresistible when you pout,” Miriam said. “But this time you will not get your way. And I have both bishops on my side.”
“It is discouraging to think that anytime my wife wants to win an argument, she can invoke the name of the bishop who will always take her side.”
“Discouraging for you.” Miriam giggled. She reached over Ephraim and picked up her sewing.
Susie’s quilt was a Cornerstone design made from navy and deep purple squares. Once she completed the binding, Miriam would finish Ephraim’s quilt. Overjoyed that she hadn’t thrown the squares away, she planned on putting it together this week and next in time to give it to him for his birthday, December sixteenth.
She thought of Seth’s quilt and wondered what had become of it. The familiar twinge of sadness pricked her heart. She had thought that with time her sorrow over Seth would lessen, but the pain seemed to intensify every time she thought of him. Was he eating well? Freezing to death in his stable? How many days before he moved into his unfinished house? At least then he would be warmer than when sleeping in his stable.
Ephraim studied her expression and his lips formed a rigid line. “You’re thinking of him again, aren’t you?”
“Who?”
“The horse boy. You had that look the day I got you from his farm.”
“He was a gute friend to me when I had no other friends. I have not been as gute a friend.”
“When we broke up, like as not you latched on to the first person who was nice to you. If you and I had been together, you wouldn’t have been friends with him. You need not search elsewhere to find love.” He put a hand to his heart. “All you need is right here.”
* * * * *
Ach, the breeze blew bitter-col
d today. Miriam had bundled up in her heavy black coat with a long wool scarf covering her head and tucked in at the chin, but gloves were no gute when hanging laundry. They got wet and froze solid and made it impossible to maneuver the clothespins. With stiff fingers, she worked as quickly as possible to get the rest of the wash hung. In the winter, it didn’t really dry. It froze. Then they would bring it into the house and thaw it out before folding it.
With the last shirt secured on the line, Miriam picked up her basket and made a beeline for the back door, hoping she didn’t have to venture out for the rest of the day.
Susie stood at the cookstove tending a pot of soup. She spent most of her day at the main house, especially if Hollow was at work. Her time was close at hand. Yesterday Mamm had declared that the baby had dropped and would be coming any day now. Susie thought she still had at least two weeks.
“Oh,” Susie said as Miriam blew through the door. “She just left. I didn’t know where you were.”
“Who just left?”
“Laura Lambright. She is back from school for a few days. She left a package for you, and I gave her the doll. You could probably still catch her. She walked out less than a minute before you came in.”
Miriam deposited her basket on the table and ran out the front door. It took her a moment to realize that the young woman walking down the lane was Laura. She wore a lime-green coat, blue jeans, and midcalf lace-up boots. Her jeans were tucked into her boots, and she looked quite sophisticated.
“Laura! Wait.”
Laura turned around. Her black hair fell around her face and brushed her shoulders. In her arms, she carried the doll that Priscilla had given Miriam.
Miriam cut through the snow. “Laura, it is so gute to see you. Do you have time to come in and sit?”
Laura didn’t reply. She looked like a schoolteacher who had lost patience with a scholar. Miriam’s uneasiness grew. She had been unsure of Laura when they first met, but they had grown to care for each other a great deal. Now an invisible ten-foot wall stood between them.
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