So what had happened over the last two months?
He’d learned to tolerate the help of others—yes, but what else was at work here? Was he finally a part of their community? Was he committed to staying? What had changed his mind?
Miriam wanted that. She had even prayed for that. The thought that he might pack it all up and move back to Indiana had become one of her deepest fears.
When he first began to speak, it was as if he was finally letting his true feelings through. Instead of listening, she found herself watching the three other men at the table and their reaction to Gabe. Samuel continued to stare down at his hands, Eli leaned back and studied him, and Jacob leaned forward in interest.
“The businesses in Indiana—”
“We’re in Wisconsin,” Samuel pointed out.
Gabe glanced around the table and started again. “The businesses in Indiana found that it was beneficial if they worked with the Amish community rather than against it.”
“We have no desire to yoke ourselves with the Englischers,” Jacob reminded him.
“Yet as I’ve learned even in two short months, many of our families depend on side work to supplement their farming income. The Englisch tourism—especially one such as Mr. Drake’s, could bring additional customers to our cottage businesses.”
“How is that possible?” Jacob asked. “They won’t be needing a barn built or wanting someone to shoe their horse.”
Miriam knew Gabe had to move carefully now, because it seemed that their bishop was finally listening. And it wasn’t only that she wanted him to win this argument—it wasn’t their argument to win. It was that she truly did want what was best for their community.
“You’re right there. Ya, they might not need a barn built, but they might need carpentry work done on a summer place. And though most don’t own horses, they are interested in them. Many would like to take a ride in a buggy.”
“This is ridiculous. So now we’re supposed to use our farm animals to ferry around Englischers?” Samuel nearly spat out the words.
Gabe stared down at the table for a moment before responding. When he answered, his voice was calm and quiet, but sure. “If you fight this man, and if you turn the village board against you, then you’re more likely to find yourself diapering your horses every time you’re on a public road. Do you realize the cost of that?”
“Gotte will provide—”
“I know Gotte will provide, Samuel. He also gave us common sense and called us to be gut neighbors.”
“Maybe it would help if you explained what happened in Indiana.” Eli stood and stretched. “I think that’s one of the reasons you were voted onto the board. The community wanted someone who had experience with the Englischers.”
Miriam was curious too. Though she had never been farther than fifty miles from Cashton, she had heard that Indiana was quite different from Wisconsin.
“Much of Indiana is practically overrun with tourism, and a lot of that tourism has recently been focused on the Amish communities.”
“Why do you think that is?” Jacob asked.
“Some say it’s nostalgia. Others that it’s disbelief…their world is now so different from ours. Many can’t believe we’re able to survive without technology.”
“They could too if they ever had the need,” Samuel said, staring down at his calloused hands again.
“And perhaps those are the questions they come seeking answers for. Questions about their own abilities. Whatever the reason, they come in droves.”
“To stare? To mock us?” Jacob’s frown deepened.
“Some of our community thought so at first. When it became clear that we could not win against the builders and developers, when our land prices started going so high that we could no longer buy any additional acreage for our sons…” Gabe shook his head. “We sent a group to several neighboring districts to speak with their leaders.”
“What did they learn?”
“That many of the Englischers who come are gut, Gotte-fearing people looking for a place of respite, and they seek it among our community.”
The room became quiet as they considered Gabe’s words.
Miriam was the first to speak. “We have the occasional visitor, even now, in the schoolhouse. They are usually older, and they tell me how much our ways bring back memories of when they were a child, of how the schoolhouse reminds them of simpler times.”
She cleared her throat, shaking her head and causing the strings on her prayer kapp to brush forward. “It’s not that we mind visitors. Perhaps Gotte brings them into our life for a reason. It’s only that we aren’t sure we could handle so many.”
Eli returned to his chair at the table. “So we have our list.” He tapped it with his finger. “Are you suggesting anything in addition to this?”
Gabe sat back, crossed his arms, and rubbed his chin. “You’re right. This isn’t Indiana. You know the people of our district far better than I do. I’m only suggesting that perhaps we could point out to Mr. Drake how we could work together in a beneficial way, rather than him coming up with ideas like…”
He spun the paper around so he could read from it again. “Amish Astronomy or Amish Angels.”
Frowning, Jacob rubbed his forehead. “You’re not saying we offer to work in his hotel, his shops?”
“Nooo…” Gabe drew the word out. “Unless some of our young men and women on their rumspringa choose to. That’s something that would have to be discussed with you, Bishop.”
Miriam thought it was interesting that Gabe addressed Jacob by his title at that point. Jacob didn’t seem to notice, but it was a nice show of respect. She adjusted her position in her chair and watched the others as if she were watching one of the Englisch theater presentations. It wasn’t that they were acting, but Gabe knew how to read people better than she realized.
Did he also know how to read her? The idea caused her cheeks to warm.
Catching her staring at him, he winked.
“A matter for another time,” Jacob decided.
“What else did you do in your old district?” Samuel asked.
“In Indiana, which ya, is decidedly more liberal, we started out by offering some of our goods that we made at home in the Englisch stores. At least then people had a chance to see honest Amish craftsmanship versus something made overseas that has been labeled Amish but has never seen the inside of a Plain workshop.”
“Several of our young men could certainly use the income with their furniture and woodwork. David, Miriam’s bruder, has even started making toys in the winters. Because his acreage is so small, there’s not as much work.” Eli folded his hands as if he were praying. “The women too. They make quilts and rugs, even knitted items, and you’ve allowed them to set out signs by the roads, Jacob. But not many people see them and stop, especially during the winter months when they could use the income most.”
“It could be a gut compromise,” Jacob admitted. “The buggy rides I will have to think on, but selling the goods in the store…this might make sense.”
“We’d have to pay Drake a percentage,” Gabe reminded him.
“Ya, but it would be worth it if we sold more.” Eli stared down at the list, which still didn’t have a number three. He tapped the sheet. “Could we offer to work with him to better portray Amish lifestyles and craftsmanship in his stores?”
“Possibly including offering some of our goods there,” Miriam added.
Eli wrote quickly to add the words to the sheet, and then he glanced around the small group to be sure everyone was in agreement. When they all nodded—even Samuel—he tore the list from the pad and put it in his pocket.
It seemed to Miriam that Gabe hesitated, but then he pushed on with sharing what was on his mind. “Many Englischers have a genuine interest in the old ways. I read an article in the Budget my mamm sent me. Often they pay to bring schoolchildren on tours, or retired people. Some like to come out and see how the buggies are made. It could be gut for your work too,
Jacob.”
Standing and adjusting his suspenders, Jacob nodded. “You’ve set out your reasons well, Gabriel. What your bishop told me about you is true.”
They had all stood and Samuel was already walking toward the door. Miriam noticed Gabe’s head jerk up and around. Eli didn’t. He was busy pushing in the chairs and making sure Jacob’s dining room was back to the spotless condition it had been in when they arrived.
“And what was that, Jacob?”
“Don’t be offended.”
Now Samuel had turned back and was listening.
“It’s my responsibility when a member of my district is as new as you are and they have been chosen to lead. I take that responsibility seriously. If one day you are chosen for the position of minister or deacon, then you will know what a weighty thing it is.”
When Gabe nodded, he continued. “I considered this a matter worthy of a phone call to your old bishop. Ezekiel spoke highly of you. He also said that you put the needs of the community first. I’ll count on you to continue to do so.”
“Ya, of course I will.”
“Very gut. Eli, be sure that you have the list with you when you attend the informational meeting with the village president and board of trustees in two weeks. I would ask you all to make this a matter of priority during your prayers. Samuel and Miriam, danki for coming.”
Everyone murmured their goodbyes as they stepped out into the cold evening air.
Miriam wanted to ask Gabe what he was doing for Old Christmas. The January sixth celebration of Epiphany would include a large family feast and no school. She was about to speak to him about his plans, but then she heard him ask Eli what they could bring for the meal. Her heart sank, but she forced a smile when he turned toward her.
“I hope you have a gut Old Christmas, Miriam.”
“You too, Gabe.”
“Perhaps Aden will be home to see his dat again, ya?” he said as he helped her into her buggy. She thought about running over his foot with the buggy wheel. He was so determined to bring up Aden’s name every time they were together. Maybe she could train him otherwise, the way her dad had trained Pepper not to chase on a hunt until he gave him leave to do so.
“You’re smiling now, and you were frowning a second ago.” Gabe stepped back so she could lower the flap and shut out the cold.
Instead of answering him, she changed the subject. “You know, Gabe, sometimes I don’t understand men at all.”
“Is that so?” He pulled at his beard as if he should give that some thought. “I suspect you’re not the only one.”
“But when I don’t understand something, it makes me want to puzzle it out all the more.”
Now he was the one frowning, and that did lighten her mood. “I’m headed back to the school now. Tell my mamm hello for me when you pick up Grace, would you?”
“Ya, of course I—”
But instead of waiting for his response, she dropped the flap, enclosing the buggy in darkness and a little warmth. Then she murmured to Belle, who trotted off at a pretty clip.
She didn’t know what was going on with Gabe Miller or why he insisted on pushing her toward Aden Schmucker. She had decided one thing while watching him tonight, though. She was going to find out his reasons. And when Miriam set her mind to something, sooner or later it was done.
Chapter 41
Grace didn’t remember auctions from their old home, but she was sure they had them. Her dad described them to her as they drove toward Hannah’s home. But it was as though he was describing something from one of her dreams. Some of it sounded familiar—or maybe she was confusing his memories with hers. Maybe she only remembered him talking about them.
None of that mattered.
Grace couldn’t imagine a better weekend. The weather was cold but sunny, which was just what she’d prayed for. There was still a little snow on the ground, but not enough to mess things up.
“Remember not to stay outside. You’ll have your nose frostbit.”
“I won’t.”
“All the items will be in the barns or the house.”
“Ya, you told me.”
“Hannah’s dat said there will be places to play in the barns as well—so there’s no need to wander around outside.”
She turned to stare at him. There was no threat of a blizzard. Was he worried she’d walk off and become lost in a crowd of people?
He shrugged and she went back to watching out the front of the buggy. There had been a forecast for rain earlier in the week, but it had changed two days ago. Her dad had said God had taken care of it, and she supposed he was right.
Yesterday they had spent Old Christmas at Eli’s house. She’d had hours and hours to play with Sadie. Had there really been a time when she hadn’t known her? As she sat forward in the buggy, peering out over the front of Chance’s rump and looking for her best friend, it was hard to remember. Now she saw Sadie almost every day, and when she didn’t she wrote her a note or drew her a picture.
“Lots of buggies,” Gabe said.
“Ya, and cars too.”
“Stay close to me so you won’t get lost.”
“Dat, I’m not a baby.” Grace turned to give him the look and saw something painful pass over her dad’s face. Maybe he had gas again. She scooted to the far side of the buggy.
“What, do I smell?”
“You got that look, like you might be about to do something.”
“Oh, I did, did I?”
His hand crawled across the seat, and Grace let out a squeal as she tried to move farther away. He hadn’t tried to tickle her in ages. Why was he acting so strange all of a sudden?
As he pulled Chance to a stop, she glanced back out over the crowd and saw Sadie’s dad standing beside his buggy. “They’re here. They’re here.”
“Ya. I told you they would be.”
“There are so many people. Even more than when we have church.”
“That’s gut. More people means we’ll raise more money for Laura Kiems. If you see her, you remember to tell her that we’re praying for her and that you made a cherry pie to be auctioned. Abigail said you did a fine job on it.”
Grace nodded as she hopped out of the buggy. She hoped the auction raised a lot of money to help Preacher Kiems’ mother. She had something called heart disease. Miriam had explained to the class last week what that was—how your heart could get tired and not work so well.
Grace waited for her dad to hand her the cherry pie from the box in the back of the buggy. She’d asked him if his heart was old, if he’d need a benefit auction. He’d promised her it wasn’t and that he still had a lot of years left. But she still put her head to his chest to listen to his heart beat whenever he hugged her good night. There was nothing wrong with checking.
She’d told that to Hannah, and Hannah said some things you have to trust to God. That was a little hard to do, especially given their past.
Grace still didn’t understand what had happened to her mom or why God had let that happen. But then, on the other hand, she could have died in the snow cave, and she didn’t. God was hard to figure out, let alone trust, but she was trying.
Sadie met her halfway between their buggies. “I made cookies. What did you make?”
Sadie had worn her dark blue dress and black apron, of course. Grace could just make it out underneath her coat. They always wore their black aprons. They giggled about being older and wearing a white one, but Grace wasn’t in any hurry to be older. Grace looked down at her clothes, identical to Sadie’s, and smiled. She liked it when they dressed the same.
“I made cherry pie. It’s the first time I didn’t burn the crust.”
“Let’s take them to the tables together.”
“Do you girls want me to go with you?” Her dad had caught up with them.
They turned around and stared at him, and then they both shook their heads. Gabe had that look on his face again. Grace was just sure he had a stomachache. Maybe his breakfast had been bad. He tried to s
mile, though. “All right. Be careful, and I’ll see you at lunch.”
“That was weird,” Grace said.
“My dat did the same thing.”
“Honest?”
“Ya. He even offered to carry the cookies for me.”
That started them giggling, and they had to walk closer together through the cold sunshine so they wouldn’t drop their auction items.
Once they had dropped off their baked goods in the kitchen, they headed out to the livestock barn to look at the animals that were being auctioned. As they were headed out of the house and toward the pens, they passed the preacher’s mom.
“Uh-oh,” Sadie whispered. “We could skirt around.”
“Can’t. Dat told me I had to stop and talk to her. And she’s seen us.”
“Come here, you two, and let me have a look at you.” Laura Kiems reached out a bony hand, and Grace almost stepped back, but she didn’t because she saw the lonely look on the old woman’s face. So instead she allowed herself to be pulled closer. “Now, Sadie, it seems you grow more every time I see you.”
“My mamm says the same thing.”
“And Grace. You look just like my dochder described you. She told me all about your going up front in the church service with your dat. I wasn’t there to see it on account of…” she pulled in a deep breath and rested a second. “On account of my heart.”
“We brought baked goods,” Grace said.
“That’s gut. Danki.” Laura patted Grace with one hand and reached for Sadie with her other.
Though her fingers were awfully thin, they didn’t feel as scary as Grace thought they might. They actually felt soft, like Stanley. She imagined you had to be real careful with someone as old as the preacher’s mom so she wouldn’t break. Looking down at Laura’s hands, she saw they were thin and bony, and she could even see the veins, same as she could with her mouse. Which is why she would never let Stanley out around Stormy. That kitten just played too rough.
A Promise for Miriam Page 24