She retrieved it from her seat and then rushed to the front of the room.
The Kings’ home had looked far less crowded from her bench. Once she stood beside her father with her hand in his, it seemed as if there were a thousand people staring at them. Grace was good at math, and she knew there weren’t actually a thousand people, but there were maybe a hundred.
Her heart started to hammer in her chest like the wings of a baby bird. She looked up at her dad and the bishop, who both seemed unusually tall all of a sudden.
“I beseech you to pray for both Gabriel and Grace as they find their place within our community,” Bishop Beiler said. His voice was very serious, and when she glanced at him he didn’t smile the way their old bishop did. His words were nice, though, and she could tell he meant them. You could tell when people meant what they said and when they didn’t if you listened close enough.
“It’s difficult to experience loss in this life, but God doesn’t leave us alone. He brought the Millers to us for a reason. I know you all will be family to Grace and Gabe—a mother to Grace and friends to them both. For we are one community and one family, bruders and schweschders in the faith.”
Grace couldn’t see Bishop Beiler’s face well. She could see he had a gray beard. She thought the words he said were just right. When she closed her eyes, they washed over her like starlight.
Since her voice had gone, she’d learned to tell a lot from people’s voices. Bishop Beiler’s voice was very serious. Some kids thought that was bad, but it wasn’t always. Bad was someone whose voice said one thing when their face said another. Bishop Beiler’s voice was solemn—that was a word they had learned in school, but it matched his face. She could see his face now that he’d moved over a few feet. His face and voice matched up, so he was all right with her.
Now everyone was singing again.
Grace stood there, wondering what it would be like to sing with them. She sang in her head, but it wasn’t the same.
Then the service ended and people were coming forward, shaking hands with her father. Some patted her on the head and others shook her hand as if she were an adult. She could always tell if someone knew about her voice or not by the way they looked at her.
A few people spoke to her and waited for a response, but generally adults preferred quiet children.
Some kids made fun of her when adults weren’t near, but if she ignored them they went away.
Soon she was being hugged by Miriam’s mother, who pulled her away from the front of the room and toward the tables where the food was being served.
As she stood in line for lunch, two boys began to rib each other and giggle, pointing at her and speaking behind their hands.
“She’s mute,” the taller boy said.
“No, she’s not. She’s stupid.”
“Bet she’s not either. Bet she’ll squeal if we poke her with a fork.”
She pretended not to notice and moved forward in the line. She hoped the boys wouldn’t poke her. She was fairly sure she wouldn’t squeal. She’d cut her hand once on a rusty nail when she was playing in the barn back in Indiana. The Englisch doctor had been surprised and said, “Not even one peep. You definitely deserve a sticker or a lollipop.”
She ignored the boys and tried to think about Stanley.
As she reached the table with the plates, Hannah stepped in between her and the boys. “Hello, Grace. I was hoping you’d sit with me today.”
Grace smiled up at her new friend and the boys settled down.
Maybe the bishop was right. Maybe it would all work out, the way things did in a family.
Chapter 5
Sensing that he might try to cut out early, Miriam kept her eye on Gabe Miller. Which wasn’t easy to do because she was refilling dishes in the food line—as the plate of sliced ham emptied, she’d whisk it off and replace it with another. When the basket of fresh bread was down to the last slice, she put another in its place at the same moment Eli Stutzman put his hand forward for a piece.
“Nice timing, Miriam.”
“Danki, Eli.”
“How are the kinner doing? I never have much time to speak with you when we’re at school.”
“They’re doing well.” Miriam followed him down the table, pushing forward the asparagus casserole that wasn’t being emptied out quickly enough. Almost against her will, she glanced up and scanned the room again looking for Gabe and Grace.
“I believe Miller went to the barn, if that’s who you’re looking for.” Eli had lowered his voice, but Miriam could still detect a note of teasing.
“Did he take Gracie with him?” Miriam asked.
“Actually, I think Gracie went first.” Eli dumped cranberry dressing on the side of his plate.
Miriam absently straightened a dish.
“She left with Hannah,” he added. “Are you worried about the girl?”
“Ya. The children are teasing her a bit,” Miriam admitted. “It happens sometimes when a student is new. Grace is so young, and…” she fumbled and stopped, trying to think of how to explain about Grace or even if she should explain about Grace.
“Sadie told me about the girl’s silence,” Eli said. “Is there anything I can do?”
Miriam shook her head, unsure if she should add anything else, and continued to scan the room as if Gabe and Grace might reappear next to the pot of kaffi.
“I believe she went looking for Pepper.” Eli popped a piece of a roll into his mouth and chewed it thoughtfully as two women stepped around him. When they’d passed, he held up a finger, as if he remembered another important piece of information. “She seems quite taken with the dog.”
“You’re probably right. Still, I’d like to check on her.” Miriam surveyed the tables of food and the ten or so people left in line. Her mother and aunt were still working in the kitchen, but it looked as if they had the first round of helpings under control.
“I’ll explain to your mamm, and if they need any other help I’ll stay—or call my Mary over to lend a hand.” Eli stepped back as she wriggled out from behind the tables.
“Danki. I’m sure Grace is fine, but I’d feel better if I could see that for myself.”
“Some women are born worriers,” he mumbled as he reached for a piece of fresh pumpkin bread.
Miriam heard him, but she didn’t slow down.
She grabbed her coat off the hook by the back door and hurried outside and across the yard to the barn. She didn’t know why concern bubbled up her spine like water surging out of a teakettle. There was no need to worry about Grace if she was with Hannah, and Gabe Miller could take care of himself.
Something seemed to be wrong, though. Perhaps it was that she had caught the look Hannah had given the Lapp boys. No doubt they had been teasing Grace as they had on Friday.
Miriam pushed open the door of the barn and instantly relaxed. She couldn’t help it. The odors of hay and animals and leather had that effect on her. Closing her eyes for a moment, she pulled in a deep breath. When she did, the sounds of the young people gathered there calmed her nerves.
She opened her eyes and blinked twice, adjusting to the dim light that shone in rays down from the high windows. Wood smoke filled the air, but she knew the stove in her dad’s office would do little more than heat the corner area.
Not that the December cold seemed to be bothering anyone.
At least a dozen of her students had abandoned their food and were playing volleyball. Several of the younger children were sitting in a circle being coaxed by older siblings to finish their meals before they ran to play. And, of course, a group of older boys sat off to one side, on wooden crates, talking among themselves and throwing glances at the girls.
Miriam scanned the room twice, but she saw no evidence of Grace or Gabe or Pepper. She spotted Hannah helping with the younger children.
Checking the room one last time, she walked over to Hannah and crouched down beside her.
“How’s the food?”
“Gut. Have yo
u eaten already?” Hannah grabbed a cup of milk a second before the youngest girl, Lily, knocked it over.
“Not yet. I’m looking for Grace and her dat. Have you seen them?”
“They came in with us. Grace was walking with me, but she seemed to want her father to come along. Then Sadie Stutzman joined us.”
“Sadie’s playing volleyball.” Lily looked up at Hannah and turned on her brightest smile. “I wanna play too.”
“Of course you can, but your mamm said she wanted you to eat first. Sadie ate already. Can you finish what’s on your plate?”
“Okay, Hannah.” Lily’s smile vanished, but she picked up her fork and went to work on the food.
“They were here a minute ago,” Hannah said.
“Kittens!” Lily exclaimed around a mouthful of ham.
“Swallow before talking, please.” Hannah handed her a cloth napkin to wipe her mouth with.
Miriam had an urge to tell the girl it was fine to talk with her mouth full. A manners lesson could wait. Instead, she waited for her to chew the giant piece of ham she’d managed to stuff into her mouth.
Kittens? Did they have kittens? She didn’t remember.
“New kittens are in the back,” Lily finally explained. “Sadie told Grace about them, and Grace took her dat back there.”
Lily pointed toward the back of the barn, where Miriam’s father used to keep a Shetland pony she’d had when she drove a small buggy as a kind.
Lily pushed a spoonful of casserole into her mouth. Rather than wait on another round of chewing so that she could explain more, Miriam stood, brushed off her dress, and muttered her thanks.
Kittens? No one had mentioned kittens to her.
She made her way around the volleyball game and walked toward the back stall.
They always had barn cats. Maybe her dad hadn’t seen these yet. A moment later she noticed Pepper curled up in front of the last stall door. She knelt and rubbed him between the ears once, whispered “Gut boy,” and then stood to survey the scene inside the stall. Someone had known the mama cat had birthed her litter there.
Grace sat cross-legged near a crate that had been turned on its side and stuffed with an old blanket.
Gabe stood against the wall, his legs crossed at the ankle, still eating from his dinner plate. His attention was split between the food and his daughter, which probably explained why he didn’t notice Miriam watching them.
“I didn’t take you two for the back-of-the-barn type,” Miriam said, resting her arms against the open half door of the stall.
Gabe stiffened immediately, but then Grace glanced up, a look of wonder covering her face, and he instantly softened. “I hope it isn’t a problem,” he said. “Another little girl told her about the kittens, and then—”
Grace hopped up, ran to the door, and reached for Miriam’s hand.
“How many kittens are there?” Miriam asked.
All five fingers of Grace’s right hand flashed out.
“I didn’t even know they were here.” Miriam entered the stall and knelt down in the straw in front of the crate. Grace settled beside her. For some reason she was keenly aware that Gabe was still watching them both.
“They’re tiny, Grace.” Miriam touched the mama cat gently. “I’d say they’re not more than a week or so old.”
Grace reached forward and her hand hovered over a gray-and-black kitten.
Settling back, Miriam waited.
When she didn’t speak, Grace looked anxiously from the kitten and then back to her several times. Miriam wondered if she was beginning to feel dizzy.
“I believe she wants to ask you something,” Gabe said somewhat sarcastically.
“Hmm.” Miriam understood Grace wanted one of the kittens, but suddenly the teacher in her sprang forward. She knew at times it was best not to jump in, but rather to wait.
Grace scrambled up on her knees and wiggled closer to the kittens, which were sleeping against the mama cat.
“I think she wants to—”
“Perhaps we should let Grace speak for herself, Gabe.” Miriam heard the sharp intake of his breath and sensed his shift in position, but she was too intent on watching his daughter to pay close attention to him.
Grace’s eyes had widened, and her fidgeting had stopped as if she’d frozen to the spot. Then she turned to look Miriam full in the face.
Miriam smiled at this child she was already learning to love. Stubbornness was something she admired in a pupil. It had helped more than one student overcome a handicap or difficulty, but she instinctively knew she was going to have to prove herself as willful as Grace or they would make no progress this year.
“Do you have a question for me, Grace?”
Now the girl peered around, as if she might find her drawing tablet, but she hadn’t brought it with her this morning.
Miriam didn’t realize Gabe was standing directly behind her until he leaned down and spoke quietly into her ear. She nearly jumped out of her apron and squealed. Grace clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle.
Did she giggle? Did she make sounds when she cried or laughed?
“I’d like to speak to you, Miriam. Alone.”
Miriam rolled her eyes. She realized Grace saw that too when the girl glanced away and at the kittens, a smile now spreading completely across her face.
Standing as gracefully as she could while covered with straw, Miriam followed him out of the stall. They walked away a few feet before he let loose the anger that had been building probably since she’d stopped by his house on Friday evening.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m speaking to your dochder.”
“That’s not what I mean. We discussed this. You’re trying to trick her into talking. That’s despicable. She’ll talk when she’s ready.”
“Why should she—”
“What?” He had been pacing between the two rows of stalls, but now he turned on her, exasperation consuming his expression and raising his voice.
Pepper uttered a low growl from his place in front of the kitten’s stall.
“It’s all right, boy.” Miriam turned back to Gabe. “I was saying, why should she speak if she has you to interpret her every wish?”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Is it? Why? It’s the very thing you were about to do.”
“I was helping my dochder.”
“You think that’s helping?”
“More than what you were doing.”
“I disagree.” Miriam tried to ignore the intensity of his gaze, as well as the fact that mere inches now separated them. But she refused to back down. Someone needed to be objective here. Someone needed to stand up for Grace.
Gabe clenched his hands at his side, took one step closer, and fought to lower his voice. “Do you think today was easy for her?”
“I don’t—”
“Do you have any idea what it’s like to be among strangers?”
“Well, no.”
“To be without someone you love?”
“No, but—”
“And to have no chance of getting them back?”
Miriam pulled up short, his words hitting her with the force of a bitter winter wind, stopping any argument she might have offered.
He was right.
She had no idea what he and Grace were enduring. She’d never been among strangers, and she had never lost someone she loved.
He walked to the neighboring stall, put his hands against the door, and pulled in two deep breaths. When he seemed to have calmed himself, he walked back to her, his voice icier than the pond behind their home.
“I’ll thank you to not experiment with my dochder, Miriam. I know what’s best for her. You don’t. You are a girl who has no idea what life or love or loss is about. You know books and nothing else.”
He turned and stormed back into the stall where Grace waited.
By the time Miriam caught up with him, he stood in front of his daughter an
d the crate of kittens, looking down at the message she’d written in the dirt floor of the stall.
She’d found an old stick and scribbled it into the ground. “May I keep Stormy?” Beside that she’d added the word “Please.”
Grace seemed immensely pleased with herself. She’d found a way to make herself heard.
Gabe looked miserable.
Miriam pulled in a deep breath, stuffed her wounded feelings deep inside, and walked over to the little girl. Kneeling down in front of her, she reached for the strings of her small prayer kapp, straightened them, and then finally looked into her brown eyes.
“I suppose Stormy is the dark-gray kitten.”
Grace smiled and nodded.
“He’ll be ready to go to your house by the end of the month if your dat says it’s okay.”
She didn’t turn to look at Gabe Miller. She couldn’t have borne to see the pain in those eyes one more time. He must have said yes, though, for Grace smiled once again, threw her arms around Miriam’s neck, and hugged her tightly.
Then she ran to her father.
Miriam heard them leave the stall and walk down the length of the barn. She remained there a few more minutes, watching the kittens, Pepper now at her side, and wondered how much damage she had managed to do with her well-intentioned ideas.
Chapter 6
Gabe told himself there was no reason to feel guilty regarding the scene in the barn. He told himself that while he herded the bull back into the pasture and mended the fence yet again. He repeated it to himself while he worked on the leaking roof of his barn in the biting wind. And he tried muttering it yet again each time he opened Grace’s lunch box and found it empty of any notes.
He could justify his actions to himself as much as he’d like. The guilt still had a way of worming its way into his mind. His words had been harsh, and he had not been raised to speak in such a way. Moreover, as Gracie’s drawing tablet was filled each night less and less with the scene outside their kitchen window, and more and more with kittens, school, and her new favorite person, Miriam, he realized if there was a bright spot in his daughter’s life he should be grateful for it.
All of which explained why he had trouble remaining angry on Wednesday.
A Promise for Miriam Page 4