A Promise for Miriam

by Vannetta Chapman

  Esther moved closer, “He’s ahead by two.”

  Was it because she understood the reason for his strange behavior now? And did that change anything between them?

  “Aden’s catching up.”

  “I can see, Esther.”

  Esther was clutching her arm, and Miriam suspected she’d find bruise marks there in the morning. Somehow she didn’t mind. It helped to have her friend so close.

  The men were all breathing heavily now and wood chips were flying. They were down to their last few logs. Aden reached for his next to the last piece, dropped it, and had to bend for it again.

  Gabe glanced at Aden once, realizing now that the two of them were ahead. He grabbed his last piece of wood, set it on the block, and put the ax through it in one smooth stroke.

  Applause and laughter filled the room.

  Gabe turned, but instead of looking to Joshua, he again found Miriam. This time his gaze left her confused. Before she could think what he meant by it, he’d turned back to Aden, who was congratulating him on giving him a solid run for the prize.

  And what was the prize? Had Gabe entered because of the donkey?

  Gabe stepped closer and said something to Aden that no one else could hear. Aden glanced toward the back door and nodded once.

  Suddenly, Grace ran into the picture. She greeted her dad, jumping up and down, and she hugged Sadie, whom she’d brought with her. Miriam had last seen the girls before lunch when they had interrupted her conversation with Aden outside the barn.

  Her conversation with Aden—

  Gabe glanced at her once more. It seemed his eyes lingered on hers, sending a trail of goose bumps down her arms. Then he reached down for Grace’s hand, and together they went to collect their winnings.

  Had Grace told Gabe what she’d heard? What had she heard?

  Miriam thought to go and ask Gabe. It certainly was past time to straighten this out while they had the chance, but then the crowd came between them. Esther and Joshua began talking at once. When she looked for them again, Gabe and Grace were gone.

  Gabe walked up to the schoolhouse on Thursday evening more than a little self-conscious in his Sunday clothes. What do you wear when both teachers are cooking you dinner?

  He’d received a note in Grace’s lunch box. Yes, he checked it every night now. The note asked him if Thursday would be agreeable to collect on his prize for winning the woodchopping contest and suggested he take Grace to stay with Abigail.

  Interesting. Adults only?

  Because he’d already picked up the donkey he’d won, he figured he might as well get this over with. No doubt it would be awkward for all of them, but he couldn’t think of any way out of it.

  What had he been thinking?

  He hadn’t been. He’d seen Aden walk up to the block, he’d remembered Grace say that Miriam and Aden had been fighting, and he’d simply reacted. That was usually not a good thing where he was concerned.

  And, yes, he’d spoken with Aden afterward, but only for a moment. Aden had been in a hurry to catch his ride back to his district. The conversation had cleared up one thing and muddied another.

  “Gabe, perfect timing.” Esther opened the door of the schoolhouse for him.

  He stepped inside and was surprised to see they had moved things around some. Several of the desks were pushed out of the way and Miriam’s desk was covered with a dining cloth. It had also been pulled closer to the stove near the front of the room. Two chairs were positioned on opposite sides. Only two?

  “Danki for having me.”

  “You won fair and square. We were happy to do our part to help in the benefit.” Esther’s eyes practically danced as she motioned him to the front of the room. “Miriam has been cooking since the kinner left. I’ll go and see if there’s anything I can do to help.”

  She vanished up the stairs before Gabe could ask any questions.

  He stood by the chair but didn’t sit. Glancing around the room, he noticed the students’ drawings fastened to some string that bordered one wall. It was easy enough to pick out Grace’s. The children’s abilities varied from a crude drawing, as he would do, to the most detailed and sophisticated—his daughter’s.

  Had her drawing grown out of her time of silence? Or was it a gift from God?

  “Grace is a talented artist,” Miriam said, walking up behind him.

  “I didn’t hear you come downstairs.” He turned, not realizing how close she was, and found himself inches from those beautiful eyes. Something inside of him twisted, and he admitted to himself, maybe for the first time, that he might be ready to move on with his life.

  Would Hope want him to do that?

  They had talked of it, at the end, but they hadn’t talked of when. They hadn’t talked of how.

  A fist closed around his throat. He shook his head and turned back to the drawing.

  “She is,” Miriam insisted, misunderstanding his reaction. “I’ve seen many students come through this room with many different talents. Grace’s gift is in the way she sees things and then her ability to translate that to pencil on paper.”

  “Danki.”

  “It wasn’t a compliment, Gabe. It was my opinion.” She had put a hand on his arm while she was talking, but now she pulled it back and motioned toward the desk. “Shall we sit?”

  “Ya. I’m starving.”

  Her laugh surprised him. He put a hand to his hair to check that it wasn’t sticking up from where his hat had been. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time his appearance had made someone laugh.

  “I’m not laughing at you,” Miriam assured him. “It was something else—”

  “Go on.” He pulled out her chair for her before walking around the desk and sitting down.

  “When you said you were starving, it reminded me of something my mamm is fond of saying.” She blushed but continued. “‘No woman can be happy with less than seven to cook for.’”

  “I’ve heard that one too.”

  “I suspect your Hope enjoyed cooking for you. It seems you always have a healthy appetite.”

  Gabe took a long drink from his glass of water, allowing himself time to think how best to answer. “Ya. She used to say we’d have to watch my waistline, that by the time I became a grossdaddi I would be needing sturdy suspenders.”

  Miriam fiddled with her silverware, her eyes everywhere but on him.

  “I think maybe Hope was like Abigail,” Gabe added. “Like your mamm, she wanted her dinner table to be full. She wanted a big family with lots of sons.”

  “Is that what you wanted?” Now she was looking directly at him.

  “Ya, I suppose so. But boys or girls made no difference to me.” He shifted in the chair. “Now, after Grace, I think anything will be easy, though I’ve heard twins are hard.”

  Miriam’s eyebrows shot up. She started to speak, but then she stopped herself, so Gabe helped her.

  “I’m not that old, Miriam. I do still think about having other children. It’s what Hope would have wanted. And she would want Grace to have a mamm.”

  At that interesting moment Esther brought them dinner and then excused herself, claiming she’d already eaten. They bowed their heads for a moment of silent prayer and then started in on the meal of chicken casserole, salad, and fresh bread.

  Gabe thought about ignoring the look on Miriam’s face, but then he decided it was best to put their concerns on the table. “You look worried over there.”

  She set her fork down. “So you have considered marrying again?”

  When he didn’t answer right away, she continued. “I don’t mean to be bold…”

  “It’s all right, Miriam. We’re freinden.”

  She had been staring out the window but glanced at him sharply at the word freinden. “It’s only that you’ve told me three years have passed since Hope’s death.”

  “Ya.”

  “Most men would have already remarried.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “And some men don’t r
emarry at all—like Bishop Beiler.”

  Gabe nodded as he finished the casserole and reached for another piece of bread. It had occurred to him that he didn’t wish to arrive at old age alone and stern as it seemed Jacob Beiler was. He wanted a woman in his life. He wanted the love and the laughter a wife brought. And he wanted more children.

  “Perhaps it took me longer to feel that Grace and I were ready to move on, or perhaps…” he set his empty plate aside and folded his arms on the desk, leaning forward a bit so he could study her eyes, her expression…everything about her. “Perhaps I was waiting to meet the right person.”

  The color came into her cheeks slowly and her eyes widened, but she never took her gaze from his.

  “And now you have?”

  “Possibly.”

  Esther interrupted them with dessert—shoofly pie.

  “My favorite. Are you sure you won’t join us?” Gabe asked as he accepted the coffee she also offered.

  “Oh, no. Danki, but I had some earlier. I couldn’t resist. Right now I’m grading papers. I can’t believe there are so many of them.”

  “It seems wrong to let you wait on us.”

  “No. That’s my part of the prize.” She smiled at Miriam. “I didn’t do any of the cooking.”

  “You cooked all of this, Miriam?”

  Miriam nodded and pushed her fork through her pie.

  “It’s excellent.”

  He thought he saw Esther wink at Miriam as she scooted away. Could be this was a setup, but he wasn’t sure. There was one thing he was sure about, one thing he needed to make clear, and it had been weighing on his heart since his talk with Aden.

  “Miriam, I spoke to Aden.”

  Her fork clattered onto her plate. “About?”

  “It wasn’t about you. He wouldn’t say a word about you, not that I didn’t try.” Why a smile spread over her face, he wasn’t sure. “The man clammed up like he had the toothache. But he did talk to me about the Amish community he works in, and I have to say—it sounds closer to the type of community we had in Indiana.”

  “Are you thinking of moving?”

  “Me? No. I don’t want to uproot Grace again.”

  “Then why—”

  “Miriam, before you make any decisions about…” Gabe reached across the desk and claimed one of her hands as she began to fidget. “About how you think you want to spend the rest of your life, you owe it to yourself to at least consider the alternative.”

  “With Aden Schmucker?” She flung the words at him.

  “I don’t know.” Gabe pulled in a deep breath and then said the words that had been weighing on him since the auction, perhaps much longer than that. “I do know that before I ask someone to be my fraa, I want her to be very sure she has considered all of her options. I want her to be sure she knows her heart. I want there to be no place left for doubt.”

  Chapter 44

  Miriam didn’t speak directly to Gabe as they waited to enter the public meeting in downtown Cashton.

  She’d mulled his words over and over in her mind for the last six days. At first they had made her angry. She was so tired of people trying to tell her what was best for her future. Then she’d remember the tender look in his eyes and the way he’d leaned forward in earnest. She’d thought about the soft touch of his hand as he’d stood, thanked her for the dinner, and walked out into the cold evening.

  Eventually her anger had melted away, leaving only confusion.

  The weather hadn’t helped. It had done nothing but snow since their dinner.

  Cold, gray January days. Perhaps they were to blame for her mood.

  Or perhaps she knew, deep in her heart, that he might have had a valid point, that she should at least consider both sides before making her decision.

  “Big crowd,” Eli muttered.

  “More than I expected.” Miriam smiled an apology as she bumped up against Gabe.

  He caught her arm to keep her from slipping on the icy pavement. “Samuel’s standing at the back. It looks as though he saved some seats.”

  Indeed, he was easy to spot with his Amish hat standing out amid the baseball caps and his customary scowl plastered on his face.

  “Been here for an hour. Gut thing I came early. Never seen so many people interested in a new hotel.”

  “Technically it won’t be a hotel any longer when—”

  Samuel waved off Eli’s comments. “The village president woman is about to begin.”

  Gabe took the first seat, next to Samuel. Miriam sat next to Gabe, and Eli took the last seat.

  She tried to focus on the people at the front of the room and not on how close she was seated beside Gabe. He brushed his hand against her as he removed his coat.

  “Sorry,” he murmured.

  “No problem.”

  His eyes met hers, and she had the craziest notion that he was going to reach up and straighten her kapp, push her hair back into place, or touch her face. Her heart beat faster, and she moistened her lips.

  “I want to thank you all for coming. My name is Janice Goodland, and as most of you know, I’m the village president. I’d like to introduce the board to you, in case we have any newcomers.”

  Miriam pulled her eyes away from Gabe and toward the speaker.

  The woman stood on a stage that was elevated about a foot above the rest of the room. Several others were on the stage with her, but it was plain she was in charge. In her forties and thin, with short black hair, she looked to be very serious about the meeting. Miriam had been so busy studying Mrs. Goodland that she’d missed most of what the president had said.

  Sitting up straighter, she inwardly vowed to concentrate.

  “We’re here tonight to provide information about the renovation of the old hotel in the downtown area.”

  “Don’t need information,” an old man from the back hollered. “Need a job.”

  Several folks murmured in agreement.

  “We will have a handout regarding possible employment, but first let’s watch the presentation Mr. Drake has sent.”

  What followed was a short video highlighting other projects Chester Entertainment had completed in the last ten years. Miriam noted that none of them involved Amish communities.

  Before the lights had even come back on, a woman seated two rows in front of them stood up. “I’m a single mom, and I have a job, but that old hotel is a danger. I can’t be watching my boys all the time, and twice last year they got to playing around that building. One of my sons hurt himself on broken glass. If you ask me, one less deserted building is a good thing for Cashton.”

  Again there were murmurs of agreement.

  “I vote we tell Mr. Drake to get started. What’s he waiting for?” This was from a middle-aged man in a white dress shirt and charcoal-colored slacks. He looked vaguely familiar to Miriam. “The sooner the hotel opens, the more people I’ll have frequenting my bank.”

  That would be why she knew him. As a girl, she’d accompanied her father a few times to the bank when he had business to take care of.

  “We want to move in an expeditious but reasonable manner for all village business. Now, if there are any questions you would like answered at this time, Mr. Drake has sent two of his assistants here tonight.”

  A young man and young woman, dressed in nearly identical black suits, waited near the right of the podium.

  Samuel was the first from their group to stand. When Mrs. Goodland called on him, he spoke up loud and clear. Miriam found herself praying he wasn’t going to quote Scripture. Somehow she didn’t think it would further their cause here.

  “We’d like to know where Mr. Drake came up with the name for his new facility.”

  Mr. Drake’s two appointees eyed each other. Then the man, a redhead with a small goatee, stepped forward to answer Samuel. “That is an excellent question. We had a marketing team come up with a name that would catch the attention of—”

  “What I mean is that Amish folk…” Samuel glanced to the right
at the three of them, the only other Plain people in the room. “Amish people don’t meet in an abbey. So the name seems more than a little inappropriate to us.”

  There was some rumbling around them, and the man at the front turned to the young woman. Together they began consulting their notes, and then she pulled out her phone and pushed some buttons.

  “Perhaps we could move on to the next question,” Mrs. Goodland said.

  “But they haven’t answered the first one,” Samuel protested.

  “I understand, Mr.—”

  “Gingerich. Samuel Gingerich, and I tell you the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil. Some people, eager for money, have wandered from the faith—”

  He was quoting Scripture from First Timothy to the village board in a public meeting? Miriam wanted to put her head in her hands.

  Gabe sat quietly to her left, though his fingers had begun to tap out a nervous rhythm on his leg. When she glanced at Eli, there was no doubt about it. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

  “Quiet.” Mrs. Goodland tapped her gavel against the podium as everyone began talking at once. “Quiet, please.”

  Instead of hushing, the crowd only grew noisier. No one seemed to be listening to her, so she turned and spoke to one of the persons behind her. That person stood and hurried off the stage.

  Gabe wasn’t surprised when one of the board members walked up to their group. Mrs. Goodland had ended the meeting somewhat abruptly with “More information will follow in the paper.”

  As far as Gabe knew, they didn’t have a local paper, so perhaps she meant the Lacrosse Tribune, which sometimes covered events in the smaller local towns and villages. Other than that, if you wanted to know something, you asked a neighbor, listened to the radio, or had kaffi at the diner, where the old folks met.

  How did he know these things after living in the Cashton area such a short time? Because some things were the same no matter where you lived. And because he listened more than he talked, especially when he went into town for supplies.

  A young Hispanic woman approached them before they could make their way out of the building. “Mrs. Goodland would like to have a word with you in the boardroom, if you have a moment.”