A Place of Peace

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A Place of Peace Page 3

by Amy Clipston


  “Gut.” Eli patted his arm. “We may have a new employee in the next couple of weeks.”

  “Oh?” Timothy’s eyebrows careened toward his hairline in question.

  “A young man named Matthew Glick who just moved here with his mother. Manny recommended him.”

  “When will he start here?”

  “That I’ll need to figure out. I’m going to see if I can talk with him later this week.” Eli then gestured toward the shop. “We have more orders to fill, so we better get back to work.”

  “Ya, I wanted to talk to you about that bureau. I need your advice on the shelves. They aren’t coming out the way I’d planned.”

  “Let’s take a look.” Eli led him back into the shop, where they finished building the bureau.

  After Eli moved on to another project, Timothy began the tedious job of sanding, losing himself in memories of Miriam. No matter how hard he tried, thoughts of her flooded his memory and hijacked his thoughts.

  “Timothy.” A voice behind him caused him to jump with a start.

  Turning, he found Naomi King grinning while holding a picnic basket in one hand and a quilt in the other.

  “Naomi.” He set the sander on his workbench and wiped his hands on a red shop towel. “Gude mariye. Wie geht’s?“

  Her smile faded and her eyebrows knitted above her deep brown eyes, which shone with disappointment. “Actually, it’s after twelve.” She set the basket on the sawdust-covered wood floor. Her dark brown hair stuck out from under her white prayer kapp.

  “Oh.” He forced a smile. “So it’s good afternoon.”

  She hugged the quilt to her purple caped dress. “We had a lunch date. Remember?”

  “Right!” He tossed the rag onto the bench. “Let me get cleaned up.”

  He’d completely forgotten he’d had her reschedule her promise of a picnic for today. Naomi was always eager to bring him lunch. He knew she wanted more than friendship, but he hadn’t yet convinced himself that marrying her was the right choice. He hoped he didn’t set her up for heartache; however, she hadn’t mentioned where their relationship was headed, which he took to mean that they were both comfortable with the friendship.

  He overheard her mutter something in Dietsch about forgetful men as he moved past her toward the restroom. After dusting off his clothes and washing up, he met her by the back door. They stepped out into the warm July air and took their usual spot under the large oak tree beyond the parking lot.

  While Timothy spread out the quilt, Naomi poured him a cup of water and then began fixing their chicken salad sandwiches. Sitting across from him on the blanket, she prattled on about gossip she’d heard while working at her mother’s quilt stand at the farmer’s market.

  He stared at his sandwich and grunted at the appropriate times. Although he gave the appearance that he was interested in what Naomi was saying, he was immersed deeply in thoughts of Miriam.

  His mind swirled with questions. He wondered if Miriam was in town for the funeral. Had she become a nurse? Did she have children? If so, then what would he say to her?

  And most importantly—why should he care about her when she was the one who’d left him?

  When the sound of Naomi’s voice faded, he looked up, meeting her annoyed gaze.

  “Did you hear a word I said, Timothy Kauffman?” she demanded, placing her half-eaten sandwich on a plate.

  He gave his best mischievous grin and lifted his cup of tea. “Of course I did. You said I have the best smile in all of Lancaster County.”

  Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and an embarrassed giggle sang from her lips. “You do have the best smile in Lancaster County, but that’s not what I was saying. I asked if you’d heard about Bertha Lapp’s passing.”

  He nearly choked on his water. “Ya, I did. So bedauerlich.”

  “I spoke with Lilly this morning.” Frowning, Naomi shook her head. “The family is devastated. They’d thought she was recovering from the pneumonia. It was completely unexpected.”

  He nodded at the mention of Miriam’s younger sister. He wanted to ask if Naomi had heard anything about Miriam’s coming to town, but he couldn’t form the words.

  “Will you go to the funeral with me?” she asked.

  He nodded again, chewing his sandwich. “Of course.”

  “I feel so bad. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost my mamm.” She sniffed, and he hoped she wouldn’t cry. He couldn’t handle it when women cried. Too much raw emotion for him.

  “Poor Lilly,” she continued, her lip quivering. “And Hannah too. She has her hands full with Lena Joy’s illness, along with her other kinner.”

  Timothy continued eating the rest of his sandwich. While Naomi chatted, a strange wave of guilt rushed through him. Although he and Naomi had been friends for a month now, he’d never officially asked to court her. He enjoyed their time together. She brought him lunch nearly every day, and she joined him for family suppers on weekends. She was sweet, but she was a friend. He didn’t feel a romantic connection to her. Not like he’d had with …

  He let the thought evaporate. No use in dwelling in the past. Four years had gone by, and he’d never heard from Miriam. It was over. If he could somehow convince his heart of that fact, he could move on with his life and settle down before he was too old.

  “What’s wrong, Timothy?” Naomi’s sweet voice broke through his mental tirade.

  “Nothing.” He poured himself another cup of water and hoped she would drop the subject of his odd mood.

  “Something’s wrong. I can tell.” Her eyes bored into his. “You’re a million miles away. You normally at least respond to me when I speak.” She pulled two slices of chocolate cake from her basket and set them on two napkins. “Today you haven’t acknowledged one word I’ve said.” Her expression became coy. “And you haven’t even complimented my chicken salad.”

  He couldn’t help but smile. “Your chicken salad is superb, Naomi. Danki.”

  “Gern gschehne.” She handed him the cake. “Your dessert.”

  “Danki.” While they ate their cake, he asked her how her day was going at the farmer’s market.

  Once their lunch was finished, Timothy helped her pack up her basket and then walked her to the front of the shop, which was located across the street from the farmer’s market in Bird-In-Hand.

  “Danki for another appeditlich lunch,” he said, handing her the quilt.

  “Gern gschehne, Timothy. You know I love bringing you lunch.” She batted her long lashes and gave him a coy smile.

  He inwardly groaned. Did she expect a kiss? His gut had told him to cut off the friendship because she would wind up expecting more. He was going to have to tell her how he truly felt sooner or later, and from the expression on her face, it was going to have to be sooner.

  But now was neither the time nor the place. He couldn’t break her heart and then send her back to work.

  Besides, wouldn’t breaking her heart put me in the same category as Miriam after what she did to me?

  The thought hit him like a ton of bricks. He was wrong to mislead Naomi. He was obligated to not hurt her.

  “There you go again!” She gestured dramatically and sighed. “You’re off on another planet. I wish I could read your mind, Timothy.”

  “No, you don’t,” he muttered.

  “What was that?” She tilted her head in question.

  “Nothing.” He touched her shoulder. “I best let you get back to work before your mamm prohibits you from having lunch with me.”

  “I doubt that will happen.” Her flirtatious grin was back. “How about I bring you lunch again tomorrow?”

  Oh, she was so eager. If she only knew the inner turmoil he was battling. He forced a smile. “That would be wunderbaar. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

  “You too.” She turned and trotted toward the farmer’s market.

  Timothy watched her disappear across the parking lot and shook his head. Naomi deserved a suitor whose intentions were clear and who
se emotions were focused on her. He said a silent prayer that he could be the person she deserved and that he would find the strength to get Miriam Lapp out of his mind and his heart.

  Miriam set a German apple cake on the table next to the shoofly pie. “How are those oatmeal cookies coming along?” she asked Abby.

  Her cousin grimaced. “I think I burned this batch too.” She set the cookie sheet on the stove and huffed. “I’m not a good cook.”

  “Ya, you are.” Edna rubbed Abby’s back. “You are too harsh with yourself, just as you always were when you were a maedel.” She moved the cookies around on the sheet with a spatula. “Some of these are good. Grab the plastic wrap, and we’ll package up the good ones.”

  Miriam was wrapping up the German apple cake when she heard a car motor up the driveway. Her stomach flipped at the thought of seeing Beth Anne for the first time in nearly four years. She hoped Beth Anne would speak to her and not treat her like Gerald had.

  A tap sounded on the door, and Miriam bit her bottom lip.

  “Answer that please, Miriam,” Edna called. “We’re almost done with these cookies.”

  Miriam hesitated and glanced at Abby, who nodded toward the door as if reading her worried thoughts.

  “Go on,” Abby said with a sweeping gesture. “She’s only human like you.”

  Miriam pulled the door open and found Beth Anne standing on the porch alongside a young English woman with dark hair.

  Beth Anne’s eyes widened with shock. “Miriam.” She touched her arm. “I’m so very sorry about your mamm. I’ve been asking the Lord to comfort your family.”

  Beth Anne’s gesture brought tears to Miriam’s eyes. “Danki,” Miriam whispered.

  “This is my niece, Jessica Bedford.” Beth Anne nodded at her, and the girl smiled. “She’s staying with Rebecca and Daniel for the summer.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Miriam said. Stepping back, she opened the door wide. “Please come in.”

  “Wie geht’s,” Beth Anne said, stepping into the kitchen. “I’m sorry I’m late, but Jessica and I brought food to Abraham and visited with the family. I’m so sorry to hear about—” She stopped when she turned to Abby. “Abigail Lapp!” Rushing over, Beth Anne took her hand. “Another surprise! How are you?”

  Abby hugged Beth Anne. “It’s good to see you too. I’m doing all right. How are you? Last I’d heard, you’d married Paul. How many kinner do you have?”

  “Four, but we’re hoping for more.” Beth Anne grinned. “My little sister has twins now, and we’re wondering if there may be more in the future. Robert has seven kinner, but we think he and Sadie may be finished.”

  Abby shook her head. “I can’t imagine having one, let alone seven.”

  “We believe kinner are a gift from God.” Beth Anne shrugged. “It’s our way. I’m sure you remember.”

  “Oh, I do.” Abby chuckled. “My older sister is working on number eight from what I’ve heard.”

  Miriam shifted her weight on her feet and then turned back to the cake to stop herself from asking how many children Timothy had.

  A digital melody sang out from across the room and Abby jumped. “I’m sorry. That must be my boss. We’re working on a big deposition.” She hurried across the room and pulled her BlackBerry from her briefcase. “Yup, it’s him. I’ll take it in the guest room. Excuse me.” Holding the electronic device to her ear, she disappeared into the guest room, gently closing the door behind her.

  “How are you, Edna?” Beth Anne asked. “You look well.”

  “A little tired today but froh to have my bruderskinner with me.” Edna placed a hand on Miriam’s shoulder. “It’s a sad occasion, but I’m so froh they came.”

  Beth Anne’s eyes flickered back to Miriam, and Miriam felt her cheeks flame with embarrassment. Edna had always been good at putting her on the spot. She was reminded of the time when Edna had announced to the entire Lapp family that Miriam had received her first kiss after catching Miriam and Timothy smooching in the barn. Miriam’s brother and male cousins had taunted her about it for weeks.

  “How is Abraham?” Edna asked.

  Frowning, Beth Anne shook her head. “He looked as if he was in shock. Lilly said he hasn’t slept since he found out the news. The funeral is planned for Thursday.”

  Miriam’s lip quivered. She would bury her mother on Thursday. She was ashamed she hadn’t spoken to her in four years. How could she let that much time go by without visiting her parents? Miriam wiped an errant tear from her cheek. She wasn’t much of a daughter. She’d deserved to have the door to her father’s house slammed in her face.

  Edna lowered herself into a kitchen chair. “I was thinking of walking up to the house later on to check on him, but my knees and hands are bothering me today. I think I may need to rest for a while. I believe an afternoon nap is in order.”

  “You should take a nap,” Miriam said. “Abby and I will take care of everything.”

  “Danki.” Edna looked at Jessica. “How are you enjoying your summer?”

  “It’s been good.” The girl smiled. “It’s nice to be back here with my Aunt Rebecca and my sister.”

  “You’re working in the furniture store too, ya?”

  Jessica nodded. “I run the front.”

  “And her friend works there.” Beth Anne grinned and elbowed Jessica in her ribs. “Jake.”

  Jessica’s cheeks flushed pink. “We’re just friends, Aunt Beth Anne.”

  Miriam’s stomach tightened. She assumed Timothy still worked at his father’s furniture shop. Would Jessica share that Miriam was in town? Miriam did a mental headshake. Why would Jessica share that information with Timothy? Jessica didn’t know about their past.

  However, Beth Anne could tell Jessica the story, and then Jessica could share the story …

  Miriam swallowed a groan.

  Edna nodded toward the refrigerator. “There are three more pies in there. I made them last night.” She frowned. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make more, but my fingers are very painful lately.”

  “Oh, I understand,” Beth Anne said. “I hope you’re feeling better soon.”

  “Abby and I helped her make some more desserts this morning,” Miriam said. “We’ll help again tomorrow.” She fetched the pies from the refrigerator and then turned to Beth Anne and Jessica. “I’ll help you carry everything outside.”

  “Danki.” Beth Anne took the pies from the table. Turning, she smiled at Edna. “Danki. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Jessica grabbed the bags of cookies and said good-bye.

  Miriam took a deep breath while following Beth Anne outside, where they approached a dark blue SUV with Virginia license plates.

  Smiling, Beth Anne took the desserts from Miriam’s hands and placed them on the back floor of the SUV. Miriam bit her lower lip, holding back the questions bursting forth in her mind. Was Timothy married? Was he a father?

  Had he ever loved Miriam or was their whole relationship a mistake?

  But if he did love her, had Miriam messed up by leaving? Still, she couldn’t imagine doing otherwise, considering what Timothy had done and what had happened to Jeremy. Then there had been her dream of going to nursing school. She sighed. Leaving Lancaster County had once seemed so right. So why did it now seem so wrong?

  Jessica said good-bye and climbed into the driver’s seat.

  “I’m very sorry about your mamm,” Beth Anne said, closing the back door to the SUV. “She was a wunderbar fraa.”

  “Danki.” Miriam cleared her throat and sniffed. “How are your parents doing?”

  “Gut.” Beth Anne opened the passenger door and leaned on it. “The bakery and the furniture store are doing gut. We’ve been so busy at the bakery that Edna has been a big help. Sarah Rose and Rebecca are taking some time off to be with their kinner.”

  “Edna told me. I’m so glad to hear Sarah Rose has found someone. I was sorry to hear about Peter and the fire.”

  “Ya.” Beth Anne frowned. “It was t
ough on us all, but she and Luke seem very froh.”

  Miriam nodded. “I’m glad to hear it.”

  An uncomfortable silence fell between them, and Miriam wracked her mind for something to say. She longed to ask about Timothy, but it felt too risky. Beth Anne was being so nice. What if mentioning Timothy changed her attitude toward Miriam?

  “How are you doing?” Beth Anne asked. “Are you still living in Indiana?”

  “Ya.” Miriam leaned against the banister at the bottom of the stairs. “I’ve been working for a pediatrician for almost two years now. I love being with the children—I mean kinner.”

  Beth Anne smiled. “I guess Dietsch feels foreign now, ya?”

  “Ya.” Miriam smiled.

  “You’re a nurse, yes?”

  Miriam shook her head. “I started nursing school, but my scholarship money ran out. I’m an office assistant.”

  “Oh. Do you like it?”

  Miriam shrugged. “I do.”

  “Do you have a family?”

  “No. Abby and I share an apartment. She was married, but her husband left her. We’re helping each other out.”

  Beth Anne’s expression was surprised. “You don’t have a family?”

  “No.”

  “Were you ever married?”

  “No.” Miriam tilted her head in question. “Why do you ask?”

  Beth Anne smiled again. “I was just curious. I better get back. The tourist crowds have been rather large.”

  “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Ya.” Beth Anne climbed into the car, and the engine revved. “Danki for the pastries.”

  “Gern gschehne.” Miriam waved as the SUV drove off.

  She then breathed a deep sigh and lowered herself onto the stairs. Gazing at the back of the SUV disappearing down the driveway, she wondered how she would survive the funeral with the Kauffman family present. How was she going to keep her emotions intact—especially if Timothy was there?

  Glancing across the field, she spotted Gerald trotting toward the row of barns behind her parents’ house. A row of buggies parked near the barn represented the host of friends and neighbors who were visiting and offering condolences to the family. Miriam longed to be a part of the outpouring of support. Oh, how she missed her family. She wished she could get one more chance with them.

 

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