A Place of Peace

by Amy Clipston

  But that wasn’t the end of Miriam’s emotional day. There was also her pointless conversation with Timothy. Why had she turned to gelatin when he tried to speak with her? Her throat had gone dry as soon as she met his gaze, and her hands had shaken like leaves in a tornado. She wished she’d felt confident enough to ask him why he’d left her. She wished she’d shared what was on her mind and in her heart, but she’d stared at him blankly and spoken like a child.

  The clip-clop of hooves drew Miriam’s attention to the end of the dirt lane. A buggy she didn’t recognize bounced toward the cabin.

  Standing, Miriam set her glass on the small table next to the swing and then cracked open the front door. “Aenti,” she called. “Are you expecting company?”

  “No, dear,” Edna replied from the bedroom. “I’m going to bathe and head to bed. If it’s for me, tell them I’m sleeping.”

  Miriam smiled and shook her head. When Edna decided she was done for the evening, there were no discussions.

  The horse and buggy steered up to the cabin, stopping near her Honda. Assuming the visitor was Zach, showing off one of his new buggy designs, Miriam stood at the railing while the driver wrenched the door open and unfolded his lean body from the seat. However, the man appeared to be too tall, and his hair was too blond to be Zach’s.

  When he turned and faced her, Miriam’s mouth gaped in response to finding Timothy’s piercing blue eyes focused on her. He gave a slight smile and then tied the horse to the hitching post.

  She absently smoothed her frock and then touched her kapp, making certain it was straight and her hair was neat. Shaking her head, she wondered why she was so worried about her appearance when her looks didn’t seem to matter to him four years ago.

  Timothy made his way to the bottom of the stairs, and she took a deep breath, hoping her voice wouldn’t sound timid and her throat wouldn’t dry as it had been when he came to the bakery earlier.

  “Wie geht’s,” he said, leaning on the railing at the bottom of the steps. “May I visit with you?”

  “Ya.” She made a sweeping gesture toward the porch chairs. “Would you like a glass of water?”

  “Danki. That sounds nice.” He gave her his electric smile, the genuine one she remembered from long ago, and her knees wobbled in response.

  “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.” Her heart thumping in her chest, Miriam rushed into the kitchen and filled a glass with ice and water.

  When she returned to the porch, Timothy was seated in the chair next to the swing, turning his straw hat around in his hands like a Frisbee. When his eyes met hers, he popped the hat back onto his head.

  She handed him the glass and lowered herself onto the swing, lifting her drink from the small table between them.

  “I reckon we may get a storm,” he said before sipping the water. “Those clouds look mighty threatening.”

  “Ya,” she said, clutching her glass and running her fingers through the cool condensation.

  His eyes met hers, and her cheeks flamed in response. When he smiled, she cut her gaze to the toes of her black sneakers. Why did the mere sight of his face turn her into a shy little girl?

  “You still make the best crumbly peach pie in Lancaster County,” he said.

  “Danki,” she whispered, still studying her shoes.

  “How do you like working at the bakery?”

  “It’s fun.” Staring out at the field, she took a sip of her drink, hoping it would wet her parched throat. Why did her throat have to betray her now when she needed confidence?

  The rumbling thunder sounded closer and drizzles of rain sprinkled the path leading up to the porch.

  “Are you moving back here?” he asked, breaking the silence.

  She looked at him, finding his eyes searching hers. “I’m not certain. Right now, I’m taking my vacation time from work, so I can spend time with Hannah and help Edna. Her arthritis has progressed, and she can’t bake anymore. I’m working at the bakery to help her out. I plan to give her my paychecks.”

  “How long is your vacation?”

  “Two weeks,” she said.

  They stared at each other in silence for a moment, and Miriam wished she could read his mind. Her thoughts flashed to him and Naomi together at the funeral and then at the bakery.

  Thunder rolled louder, and the drizzle transformed to a light rain.

  “Are you courting Naomi?” she asked before she could stop the words from leaving her lips.

  “Ya,” he answered quickly. “How about you? Are you courting?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not seeing anyone. I’ve been alone for four years now.”

  He snorted. “Do you expect me to believe that?” His smile was wry.

  “Excuse me?” She turned her body to face him.

  “Please, Miriam.” He glanced toward the field, and lightning flashed across the night sky while the rain beat a rhythm on the roof above them. “I’m not stupid.”

  “I never said you were.” She placed her glass on the table. “Timothy, I’m sorry, but I’m not sure what you’re implying.”

  “Lilly told me.” When his eyes met hers again, they were full of anger and hurt.

  “She told you what?” Miriam searched his expression, trying to read where his anger had originated.

  “That you left to go live with your pen pal in Indiana.” He shook his head in disgust.

  “What?” Miriam stood up like a shot just as thunder crashed above them, shaking the porch beneath her feet. “What pen pal?”

  “The man you met through a personal advertisement or something like that.” He took a long gulp of water.

  Miriam paced back and forth. “Lilly told you that? My sister?” She stopped, facing him. “It’s not true, Timothy. It’s not true at all. I left because you were seeing Annie Raber behind my back. I thought that since you didn’t love me, I had no reason to stay here. That’s why I went ahead with pursuing my dream of living among the English and going to school.”

  “Annie Raber?” His eyebrows knitted in confusion. “That maedel who worked with my mamm for a short time? I hardly even knew her, Miriam.”

  Tears of anger and disgust flooded her eyes. “I saw you with her one time. You—you—you were holding her hand as she walked down the porch stairs. I saw it with my own eyes, Timothy!” Trembling, she stammered over her words and wished she could speak with confidence. Oh, she hated when she got upset and stuttered!

  “Holding her hand?” He got a faraway look in his eyes as if trying to remember something. “She slipped on the wet kitchen floor one time and twisted her ankle. Maybe that was why, but I never was courting her behind your back. I wasn’t seeing anyone behind your back, Miriam. I would never do that. Ever.” He enunciated the word as more thunder crashed, louder this time.

  “But that’s not it.” She swiped her tears as more flowed from her eyes, her body shaking so hard that she was sure he could see it. “I also heard that you told some others you couldn’t marry a maedel who wasn’t pretty enough. You said I had a body like a twelve-year-old boy because I’m so skinny.”

  The rain beat harder above them, and drops sprayed the back of Miriam’s body.

  “Who told you that?” He stood beside her.

  “Lilly,” she breathed the name, trying to control her tears.

  “That’s not true.” He stomped his foot for emphasis. “I never, ever said that about you. None of it is true. I never saw Annie behind your back, and I never said you weren’t pretty enough. I loved you. I loved you with everything I had and thought you were the most beautiful woman in the world.”

  Miriam bit her lip and stared into his eyes, finding truth in them.

  Lightning flashed, lighting up the porch like the midday sun, and then thunder crashed, shaking the porch and causing Miriam to shriek with a start.

  Timothy reached out and took her hands in his, and something sparked between them, sending liquid heat coursing through Miriam’s veins.

 
She gasped, pulling her hands back.

  She stared into his eyes, and the time they had spent together flashed before her like a movie. All of the love she’d felt for him in the past boiled up in her soul, and she wanted to reach out and hug him.

  Instead, she stood still and held his gaze as his blue eyes studied hers.

  “We were fed lies,” he whispered, his look so intense that her breath paused.

  Speechless, she nodded.

  “Why didn’t you tell me all this the day I came to see you at the Hendersons', the day that Jeremy—” He stopped short of the word died. “And then afterward, when I came to see you, you wouldn’t speak to me. Why? Why did it go this far, Miriam? Why did you leave me without an explanation?”

  “I—I was afraid,” she whispered.

  “Afraid?” He raised an eyebrow. “When did I ever give you a reason to fear me?”

  She shook her head and stepped over to the railing to avoid his probing stare. She willed her body to stop trembling. “My family blamed me for Jeremy Henderson’s death. My daed said I was an embarrassment to the Lapp family for neglecting him. He used every word except murderer.” Her voice quavered. “He said I wasn’t smart enough to leave the house. He wanted me to stay home and work the fields with my brother.”

  She glanced at Timothy and found his sympathetic eyes still on her. “When Lilly told me that you were cheating on me and didn’t want to marry me, I thought it was my cue to leave. Everything was happening so fast. I thought you and my family had betrayed me. I had no one to turn to except Zach. He was the only one who believed me about Jeremy.”

  Timothy frowned at the mention of Zach’s name.

  Is that jealousy?

  The thought evaporated when he stepped toward her. She held her breath as he reached out, but his hand dropped before he touched her.

  “I believed you when you told me what happened with Jeremy, but you never gave me a chance to tell you,” he said. “The day you came home from the police station after you were questioned was the last day I saw you, but I couldn’t get you alone.”

  She nodded. “I remember. Jeremy died while you and I were arguing on the Hendersons’ porch. My father said that was a sign from God that you and I weren’t meant to be together. He said I wasn’t responsible enough to be a mother at all.”

  Timothy shook his head, his eyes smoldering. “That isn’t true.”

  Miriam sniffed and wiped her eyes. “Ya, it is. I’m destined to be alone, like my aenti.”

  “No,” Timothy whispered. “Don’t say that.”

  She studied his eyes, wishing she could turn back the clock to the day Jeremy died. If only she’d gotten to his crib before he’d stopped breathing. If only she’d told Timothy to come back and talk to her later. Maybe she could’ve saved Jeremy and her relationship with Timothy.

  But she couldn’t turn back time. God wanted this to happen. It was His plan that she was alone and Timothy was with Naomi King. That was why she’d dragged her feet when Timothy had proposed. That was why she shied away from joining the Amish church. None of it was meant to be.

  Timothy’s expression softened. “We’ve lost so much time,” he whispered. “I don’t know what to say.”

  Miriam wanted to let go of her apprehension and lose herself in those eyes. She wanted him to kiss her. She wanted to feel his powerful arms around her as he pulled her in for a hug.

  She wanted to hear him say he still loved her.

  But those things would never happen. That was all in the past.

  Timothy had forgotten about Miriam. He was courting someone else.

  She had a job to return to in Indiana. She couldn’t let herself fall for him again.

  It was too late for them. Their chance was gone.

  God didn’t give second chances.

  The thunder rolled off in the distance, and the rain slowed.

  “There’s nothing to say.” She squared her shoulders. “It’s over between us. It’s time we moved on.” She held out her hand, and he took it. “Danki for coming to see me.” She shook his hand as if they were casual acquaintances. “It was gut to see you again.”

  He gave her a questioning expression, and Miriam wracked her brain for a reason for him to leave. She needed him to go —now—before she burst into tears and begged him to take her back. She had to make him leave before he realized how much she still loved him. Her dignity was all she had left, and she couldn’t let him steal it from her.

  “I best let you get on home. It’s getting dark, and it’s dangerous to go on the main roads in a buggy too late at night,” she said, taking his arm and steering him toward the stairs. She ignored the feel of his taut muscles and the way his body heat radiated through his shirt to her hand.

  He gave her a stiff nod. “Ya, that’s a good point.”

  They descended the stairs and stood by his buggy in the light rain. His eyes met hers, and her pulse skittered.

  “You best run in before you get soaked,” he said, untying the horse. “Gut nacht.”

  “Gut nacht,” she said, hugging her arms to her chest.

  He climbed into the buggy and clicked his tongue, bringing the horse to life. As he drove off, she felt as if her future had just slipped through her fingers —again.

  Miriam glanced toward her childhood home and frowned.

  She’d lost everything because of one person—Lilly!

  With white-hot rage surging through her, Miriam marched across the field, stomped up the steps of the house, and pounded on the door until it creaked open, revealing Gerald.

  His eyes met hers, and he glowered. “You’re not welcome here.” He began to close the door, and Miriam blocked it with her foot.

  “No!” she yelled. “I’m not leaving here until I talk to Lilly.”

  Gerald shrugged. “Fine.” He turned and hollered. “Lilly! You have a visitor on the porch.” He then faced Miriam. “She’ll be right down.”

  “Danki.” She paced until the door opened, and her sister, who was twelve months younger than she was, appeared with a book in her hand. Judging from the cover, it was one of Lilly’s favorites, a Christian novel.

  Lilly hugged the book to the front of her black frock and tilted her head with annoyance. “What do you want? Didn’t Daed tell you you’re not welcome here? That’s how we all feel about you.”

  “I have a bone to pick with you, Lillian Lapp.” Miriam came at her, wagging her finger.

  Lilly stepped back and held up her hand. “Calm down, Miriam. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “It’s about Timothy!” Miriam’s body shook. “You lied to me! Why? Why did you do it? Why did you ruin my life?” Angry tears spilled from her eyes, and she wiped them away. “You encouraged me to leave. You pushed me to go to nursing school. Why? What did you want, Lilly? You had three men chomping at the bit to court you, and yet you had to break up Timothy and me.”

  Lilly’s stare was cool. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. You’re narrisch.” She nodded toward the stairs. “You should leave before I get Daed out here.”

  Miriam threw her hands up and blew out an angry sigh. “You’re such a liar. I should’ve known!”

  “I never lied to you. Timothy Kauffman is a snake in the grass. He was cheating on you. You even saw him with Annie Raber, so you know it’s true. I was doing you a favor.”

  “No! It’s not true,” Miriam said.

  “Ya, it was true. Now go back to the cabin where you belong. Better yet, go back to Indiana, to your English life.”

  Miriam turned her glare back to her sister. “He told me everything tonight, Lilly. I know you convinced him I was leaving him for someone else in Indiana. I don’t understand you. You never cared for Timothy. Why would you do that?”

  Lilly leaned in close. “Perhaps it wasn’t Timothy I was after.”

  “What?” Miriam studied her sister’s eyes. “What are you talking about? All I ever wanted was Timothy, but you had to ruin that for me. I had
nothing else you would want, Lilly. It doesn’t make sense.”

  The door opened, and Abraham stood in the doorway. “You’re not welcome here, Miriam. You need to leave now.”

  Miriam stared up at him, her lip trembling. “Why, Daed? What have I done to offend you?”

  “She’s narrisch,” Lilly said with a sly grin only Miriam could see. “She’s here accusing me of breaking up her and Timothy, but we all know the truth.”

  “Get off my property,” Abraham barked. “You broke your mamm’s heart. I don’t want to see you until you’re baptized and made right with the church.”

  “But, Daed—” Miriam began.

  “Go on! Get out of here.” He stepped toward her and waved toward the steps. “Go on.”

  Miriam rushed down the stairs and trotted across the field. When she arrived back at the cabin, she climbed the stairs, rushed into her room, flopped on the bed, and cried herself to sleep, dreaming of Timothy and all they’d lost.

  Dutch Almond Cookies

  1 cup shortening

  1/2 cup white sugar

  1 cup brown sugar

  1/4 tsp baking soda

  2 eggs

  1/2 tsp vanilla

  3 cups flour

  1/2 tsp cinnamon

  1/2 tsp nutmeg

  1/4 tsp salt

  3/4 cup ground blanched almonds

  Cream shortening with white and brown sugar. Add eggs and work in sifted dry ingredients. Add chopped almonds. Shape dough into long rolls. Roll in wax paper and cover with cling wrap to keep in moisture. Chill in refrigerator for 12 hours. Slice thin. Bake at 375 degrees for 20 minutes or until lightly browned.

  11

  The following morning at the bakery, Miriam mixed up the dough for Jumbies cookies. Once she’d placed the sheets in the oven, she crossed the room and tapped Beth Anne on the shoulder.