A Place of Peace

by Amy Clipston

  “No, he doesn’t.” Jake glanced across the pasture toward Matthew. “He’s a bit shy.”

  Lindsay watched Matthew as he approached Eli. While the older man spoke, Matthew folded his arms.

  Biting her lip, Lindsay watched Matthew lean on the fence. He turned and met her eyes and then quickly looked away. Lindsay hoped to learn more about Matthew Glick.

  Miriam sat on the porch swing that evening and stared across the field at her father’s house. She longed to be welcomed back into that home and to feel the love of a family she missed so much.

  Hannah and Edna had told her to give Abraham time, but she wanted to work things out soon. If she were going to consider courting and marrying Zach, then she wanted her family’s blessing. She wanted her future children to know their family.

  She crossed the field and climbed the porch steps. She knocked on the door and waited a few moments. When no one answered, she turned the cool knob and entered the house.

  Stepping into the foyer, she felt as if she’d traveled back in time. The house looked exactly as it had before she’d left. The foyer opened into a large living room with the same plain furniture and white walls. Memories made within that room consumed her—family devotionals, birthdays, Christmases, weddings, church services. She imagined her mother sitting in her favorite chair while quilting or giving much-needed advice.

  Miriam closed her eyes, fighting the threatening tears. Oh, how she missed her family. How could she have left them? She walked through the living room to the large kitchen, but she didn’t see anyone. She padded through the laundry room to the mudroom and back porch. Still no one.

  “Hello?” Miriam called, heading for the stairs. Not receiving an answer, she climbed the steep stairs.

  “Hello?” she called down the silent hallway. She moved past her brother’s room and Hannah’s former room and then stopped in the doorway of the room she’d shared with Lilly since their birth.

  Late-night talks with her younger sister, sharing hopes and dreams, twirled through her mind. Miriam tilted her head, reflecting how things hadn’t worked out the way they’d hoped. Neither of them was married. Neither had a family.

  She crossed the room and stood by her sister’s battery-operated treadle sewing machine. A pile of unfinished quilts sat folded neatly beside it. Lifting the pile, she unfolded a purple and blue quilt created in the Lone Star pattern. She ran her fingers over the stitching, marveling at the intricate design.

  Lilly was a talented quilter, and she’d learned all she knew from their mother. The two had sat together for hours quilting and talking. Miriam had spent her time in the kitchen with their grandmother learning all she could about Amish cooking, but she’d never learned to quilt very well. She could make a fairly decent quilt, but it would never have been as beautiful as Lilly’s.

  Flipping through the pile of quilts, she found another in the Log Cabin pattern and a second Lone Star. She touched each one, imagining the hours her younger sister had spent on them. Like their mother once had, Lilly created them for English customers who had ordered them from Naomi King’s booth at the farmer’s market. Miriam was certain her parents were proud of Lilly for following in Bertha’s footsteps.

  Unlike Miriam.

  Sighing, Miriam refolded the quilts and set them down where they’d been, next to the sewing machine. Turning, she found a stack of books on the floor. She reached down and moved the books, glancing through the covers. Each title and cover seemed to be a Christian novel. Miriam recalled how Lilly would keep the lamp burning well past their bedtime in order to continue reading, despite Miriam’s requests to turn the light off and go to sleep. There were a few times when Lilly had almost gotten caught by their parents, but she’d managed to snuff the flame, hide the book, and snuggle under the quilt before the door had creaked open. While Miriam enjoyed reading, she wasn’t a voracious reader like her younger sister, but she knew that Zach enjoyed reading for pleasure. Miriam absently wondered if Lilly and Zach enjoyed the same authors.

  Miriam’s gaze moved across the hallway to her parents’ room, and tears filled her eyes again. She couldn’t imagine how lonely the room must feel for her father.

  Pushing the door back, Miriam stepped into the room as a loud crash sounded, causing her to jump. Glancing beyond the door, she found a stack of papers she’d knocked off the bureau. She knelt on the floor and retrieved the stack, setting it as neatly as possible in its place.

  She scanned the floor for missed papers and spotted a shoebox under the bed. Miriam dropped to her knees and yanked the box from under the bed. She opened the lid and gasped at a stack of envelopes addressed to her.

  Miriam pulled out an envelope and unfolded the plain stationery inside. Her eyes filled with tears as she read a beautiful letter addressed to her and written in her mother’s handwriting.

  Liewe Miriam,

  It’s been six months since you left us, and I don’t understand why you won’t respond to my letters. I miss you every day. While I see your smile reflected in your sisters’ faces, it’s not the same without you. Timothy Kauffman stopped by the other day asking if we’d heard from you. I had to tell him the truth, which was no.

  You’ll be happy to hear Colleen and Trevor Henderson are doing a little better. I saw Colleen at the market the other day, and she asked about you. She had tears in her eyes, and I believe she wants to talk to you and make peace. I’m certain she has forgiveness in her heart for you and wants to share it with you.

  You must put your guilt to rest and let yourself heal, Miriam. You weren’t responsible for Jeremy’s death. Unfortunately, some bopplin don’t make it past the first year of life. I learned many years ago that there’s something called Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. A doctor explained it to me and he called it SIDS for short. He said that it happens, and sometimes it can’t be prevented. You must trust me that I know more about this than you could imagine. I wanted to explain this to you, but I never got a chance to speak with you alone before you left.

  Please read this letter carefully and understand what I’m trying to say to you. Miriam, you need to accept that this wasn’t your fault. Don’t listen to what everyone said about you. Their hurtful words were said out of grief and sadness, and you need to forgive them as Jesus forgives us.

  I hope you’re doing well and are finding happiness in Indiana. Please tell Abigail her mother misses her.

  Remember, you’ll always be welcome home.

  All my love,

  Mamm

  Miriam sobbed as she read the letter a second time. Pulling out a few more envelopes, she found similar notes. She counted all of the envelopes in the box and found twenty. Each one was stamped but never mailed. She wiped her eyes, wondering why.

  “What are you doing here?” a voice barked behind her.

  Startled, Miriam gasped, turning to find her father standing over her.

  “Give me those! They’re private.” He reached down and ripped the letters and box from her hands before she could react. “Now, get out!” He pointed toward the door.

  Miriam scrambled to get up, fury and hurt rushing through her. “Why didn’t Mamm mail those?”

  He stuffed the letters back into the box and placed them on the bureau. “They’re none of your concern.”

  “They’re addressed to me, Daed.” She jammed a finger in her chest. “Remember me —Miriam? Your middle dochder?”

  He stood silent, his eyes stone cold.

  She shook her head, ignoring the angry tears streaming down her hot face. “Why are you treating me this way?”

  Scowling, he didn’t answer.

  “Mamm forgave me. See the letters?” She pointed to the box. “Have you read them?”

  “Your mamm had a soft heart. I remember transgressions.”

  “What transgressions do you think I’ve made?” Her voice trembled with her heartbreak.

  “You were seeing many men behind Timothy Kauffman’s back. You were irresponsible and allowed Jeremy Henderson to
perish while you stood on the porch kissing and doing other inappropriate things with Timothy Kauffman.”

  She shook her head and stepped toward him. “None of that is true. I wasn’t seeing anyone but Timothy, and we weren’t kissing when Jeremy died. Did Lilly tell you those lies? Lilly has been telling a lot of tales lately.”

  “I know it’s the truth.” He nodded toward the door. “Go now. Go back to Indiana and leave us be. You’re not welcome here.”

  “But I—”

  “Go!” His voice boomed off the white bedroom walls.

  Swallowing a sob, Miriam rushed down the stairs and out the front door, nearly knocking over Lilly and Gerald. Miriam pushed past them and started down the path to the cabin.

  “Miriam!” Lilly called after her. “Wait up!”

  Miriam increased her speed, loping down the path.

  “Miriam!” Lilly called.

  A strong hand reached out and yanked Miriam back. “Just wait a minute.”

  Miriam faced her younger sister and wiped her cheeks.

  “I wanted to tell you something. I figured it would be best if you heard it from family.”

  “What?” Miriam asked, her voice thin.

  “I talked to Naomi King yesterday.” A smirk spread across Lilly’s lips. “She’s marrying Timothy Kauffman in the fall.”

  Miriam’s eyes narrowed to slits. “What makes you think I’d believe anything you tell me?”

  Lilly’s smirk was replaced with a frown. “Suit yourself, but it’s true. She said Timothy came to see her Wednesday night and admitted he’d taken her for granted. For four years he’d been pining for you. He’d talked to you and you said he’s your past but Zach is your future. Apparently, Zach was at Edna’s for supper Wednesday night.”

  Miriam cupped her hand to her mouth.

  Lilly’s eyes narrowed to slits. “So it’s true?”

  Miriam glowered. “What do you care? Do you enjoy shoving the knife deeper into my back?”

  Her sister’s face fell to a frown. “Are you courting Zach Fisher?” she asked through gritted teeth.

  Miriam shook her head. “I can’t believe we share the same parents. You’re the most hateful person I’ve ever met!”

  She then rushed back to the cabin, flung open the door, and slammed it shut. She leaned back against it and sobbed. Staring up at the ceiling, she prayed for comfort and peace. She needed a sign.

  “What should I do next?” she whispered.

  Go back to Indiana.

  The answer came from somewhere inside her, and a calm filled her, choking back the panic.

  She had nothing left in Lancaster County, except for Edna, Hannah, and Zach. But the hurt buried deep in her soul swelled.

  She’d lost everything once again—Timothy and her family. She’d lost her family years ago, but she now had fresh pain with the knowledge that her mother had tried to reach out to her. Bertha had loved her despite all that happened, but Abraham wouldn’t give her the benefit of the doubt.

  And Timothy. She’d almost gotten him back—even as a friend—but now he was planning to marry someone else. Was that what he’d come to tell her? Did he want her to know he was going to marry Naomi before the news hit the grapevine?

  A fresh stream of tears trickled down her cheeks. She owed all of this hurt to her sister, her flesh-and-blood sister, who’d set out to ruin her life and won. How could Hannah be so loving and supportive while Lilly was only focused on hurting Miriam?

  Miriam knew what she had to do. She tiptoed to Edna’s bedroom and found her sleeping. She backed out of her bedroom and closed the door.

  Stepping into her room, Miriam changed into jeans and a T-shirt and then packed the rest of her things. After writing a letter, she left it on top of her frock on the kitchen counter before packing the car. She drove down the lane and stopped at the phone shanty. Pulling out her address book, she located the numbers for the bakery and Zach.

  She dialed the bakery first. Elizabeth Kauffman’s voice sang through the phone, explaining their location and hours of operation. After the introductory message ended, Miriam cleared her throat.

  “Beth Anne, this is Miriam Lapp,” she began, hoping to sound confident. “I wanted to tell you I’m heading back to Indiana because of an … unexpected emergency situation at my other job.” She bit her lip, wracking her brain for another excuse. “Danki for your friendship.” Her voice quavered with the regret and hurt swelling in her heart. “I’ll miss you.” She hung up the phone and swiped the tears from her cheeks.

  Clearing her throat again, she dialed Zach’s shop. His sweet voice brought a fresh batch of tears to her eyes. When the beep sounded, she had to fight to find her voice. “Zach, it’s me, Miriam. I’m sorry, but I have to leave. Some things happened with my family and …” She took a deep breath, but the tears flowed despite her efforts. “I’m sorry. I have to go.” She hung up the phone and dissolved in sobs, leaning against the shanty wall.

  After a few moments, she collected herself and trudged to her car.

  On her way out of town, Miriam slowed down and then parked at the side of the road in front of a large farmhouse, lit up like downtown Lancaster at night with outside lights shining from the four corners.

  She wished she could go back in time and relive that awful day. If she had the chance, she never would’ve put Jeremy down for a nap. Instead, she would’ve held him, rocked him, and made sure he continued to breathe. She never would’ve answered the door when Timothy stopped by to talk. Their conversation had gone terribly wrong when they’d argued about their future.

  If she’d held Jeremy and not spoken to Timothy, then maybe Jeremy would be alive today and turning five next spring. And maybe she would’ve worked things out with Timothy …

  She wondered how the Hendersons were doing. Had they rebuilt their lives? Had they welcomed a new baby into their family? She cupped her hands over the keys and considered walking up to the house and asking the family how they were coping since losing their precious child, the child they’d left in Miriam’s tender care that fateful day. Miriam turned off the ignition, yanked out the keys, and stared at the house.

  Instead, she closed her eyes and rested her head on the steering wheel. She was too afraid of the answer. She couldn’t face the guilt that would haunt her if Colleen told her that her marriage had fallen apart because of Miriam’s negligence. The letter from Miriam’s mother had said that Colleen and Trevor were doing well. Miriam hoped that she’d been right.

  Shoving the key back into the ignition, Miriam started the car and sped down the highway, away from the only place she’d ever called home.

  14

  Hannah hurried across the field behind Abraham’s house Sunday evening. She’d been concerned when Edna and Miriam hadn’t attended church service. After Lilly explained that Edna wasn’t feeling well, Hannah’s concern grew to worry. To make matters worse, Lilly didn’t know where Miriam was.

  While her children and husband visited with family at her father’s house, Hannah headed to Edna’s cabin to find out what was wrong. She tapped on the cabin door, and Edna called for her to come in.

  “How are you?” Hannah asked when she found Edna lounging in her favorite easy chair.

  “Heartbroken.” Frowning, Edna held up a piece of paper.

  Hannah knitted her eyebrows with confusion and flopped onto the sofa next to Edna’s chair. “I don’t understand.”

  “This will explain everything.” Edna handed the letter to Hannah.

  Hannah opened the paper and recognized Miriam’s handwriting on sight. She cupped her hand to her mouth as she read it.

  Dear Aenti Edna,

  I’ve enjoyed our time together these past couple of weeks, but I must go back to Indiana now. Unfortunately, I’m not as brave as you thought I was.

  Today was the worst day I’ve experienced in a long time, and it’s made me realize I was fooling myself when I thought I could move back here and become a part of the community again by st
arting a new life.

  Tonight I went to see Daed to try to make things right. I found the house empty and while walking by his room, I discovered a box of letters Mamm had written to me but never mailed. The letters were loving and forgiving, telling me how much she’d wanted me to come home. When I asked Daed about the letters, he said they were not my concern. He was angry and cold, and he said I had dishonored the family by seeing men behind Timothy Kauffman’s back and by letting Jeremy Henderson die. When I tried to explain the lies he’d heard about me weren’t true, he threw me out of the house. On my way back to the cabin, Lilly stopped me and shared the news that Timothy is going to marry Naomi King in the fall.

  My heart is now in shambles, and I’m not strong enough to carry the pain in silence any longer. I can’t stay in a community where I am considered dead to my family. Also, I can’t stand by and watch the love of my life marry someone else. I’d thought I could fool myself into believing I would be happy with another man. However, I’ve lost Timothy all over again, and I can’t bear it.

  What hurts the most is that my own sister, Lilly, is the one responsible for the lies that have ruined my life. Lilly is the reason why I will never marry the one man I will always love, Timothy Kauffman, and she’s the reason why I’ve lost most of the members of my family—everyone except for you and Hannah.

  Please tell Hannah I’m sorry for not saying good-bye in person. I’ll be in touch with her soon. I’m going to leave a message for Beth Anne explaining I had to return to work in Indiana. There’s no need for me to explain it any further to her. I’m certain she thinks it’s best if I let her brother move on with his life.

  In all honesty, I can’t blame him for marrying Naomi since I was the one who left four years ago and didn’t even try to work things out. I guess in some ways, I’ve gotten what I deserved.