“No,” Eli said. “Should we?”
“Not necessarily, but that’s what I mean. You and Drake operate in different worlds. He’s invading yours, and the way to win is with my newspaper.”
“Not to be rude, Miss Caperton, but why are you willing to help us?”
“It’s a good question.” She picked up her napkin and began to fold it. When she did speak, she looked up, first at Miriam and then at the men. “The easy answer is that I’ll get several good stories out of it, and that will make my boss happy.”
“Without pictures?” Samuel asked.
“Without identifying pictures of any Amish person.”
“She does know our ways,” Eli muttered.
“There’s another answer?” Miriam asked.
“Yes.” Rae sipped her cold kaffi, choosing her words carefully. “I was raised on a farm east of Wilton. When I was twelve an Amish family purchased the property bordering ours. They had a young girl my age, and we became close freinden.”
The word slipped off her lips as a smile tinged with sadness caused her lips to turn up slightly.
“What happened?” Miriam asked. One part of her didn’t want to know, but she could sense that Rae needed to tell. It seemed they were bound together now, the five of them. Sitting in the café on the first Friday in February, all of them pulling together—yoked together—against Drake and his massive business machine.
Rae’s voice calmed her nerves and reminded her of the essence of all they fought for, even as the woman’s heartache bled through her words.
“Katie was driving her buggy on one of the side roads in the early hours of an October morning when an Englischer hit her. He’d been up all night drinking, and he came speeding over the top of the hill. He said he never even saw her.”
“Oh, I remember that, honey.” Their waitress had stopped to pick up their empty plates. “It was about six years ago. The fool’s attorney claimed he wasn’t at fault because there were no buggy signs.”
“Right. He was still convicted of vehicular homicide, but they pled it down. Instead of ten years in prison, he received one.” Rae had been staring out the window, but now she gazed at each of them and finally at Drake’s brochure. “One year for killing a nineteen-year-old girl. All because there were no buggy signs, even though his blood alcohol level was twice the legal limit. The media ran stories, which seemed to me to go along with his point of view, discussing how dangerous it was to have horses and buggies on the roads, etc.”
She sipped her kaffi and then glanced briefly around the café. “They never interviewed a single Amish person for any of the stories. That was when I decided I wanted to be a reporter and an advocate for Plain folk whenever possible.”
All were quiet as they processed her story and the tragedy of her friend. Miriam knew, though, that although Rae had a sincere desire to help them, she didn’t completely understand the Amish way. Katie’s family would have been counseled that it was Gotte’s wille for her to perish that October day, just as Gabe had been told it was the destined time for his wife to die.
She glanced up, met his stare, and wondered if he was thinking the same thing she had been. Their eyes locked, and it seemed that a heart full of emotions passed between them. She tried to remember the reasons he’d suggested, reasons she should consider Aden, that she’d be happier living somewhere else, that he was not the person God intended for her—but she couldn’t recall a single word or hint from that conversation.
“So now you know. You know why I try to catch these assignments. I do what I can to be an educator regarding the Amish community. It’s my way of being loyal to Katie’s memory.”
Their waitress had moved on to help an elderly couple who had walked through the front door.
Eli cleared his throat. “It’s a gut thing you are attempting to do, for sure. But what exactly do you have in mind? How do you think we can succeed in using your paper to change Drake’s plans?”
This time Rae’s smile was bright and confident. She pulled out a pad of paper with notes she’d written. “I was hoping you’d ask.”
It only took fifteen minutes to outline what she wanted to do. By the time she was finished, even Samuel was leaning forward and listening intently.
Her ideas were bold, but they might work if the group could convince the other members in their district and if they could time everything right.
And if it was Gotte’s wille.
Chapter 50
Grace could hardly sit still as she rode in Eli’s buggy. Sadie sat on her right side, next to the window. Hannah sat beside Lily on the seat in front of them. Even though Hannah was older, and Grace had never seen Hannah nervous about anything, her cheeks were red and she kept glancing out the window as if she expected to see an Englisch car pull up beside them and snap their pictures.
Adam and Luke were in the seat behind her, and she didn’t even mind. The bishop was right—miracles did still happen!
This might be the most exciting day Grace could remember.
It was more exciting than when they exchanged presents on Christmas, though she loved Stormy more than mammi Sarah’s shoofly pie. Still and all, a school outing was the very best. And one to town? There wasn’t a single student who could ever remember such a thing.
“Will there be a lot of people, Hannah?” Grace leaned forward so Hannah could hear her over the buggy full of students and the clip-clop of the horses.
“Don’t know, Grace. Maybe.”
“What about cameras? Miriam said there might be cameras.” Sadie practically bounced on her seat.
“Don’t you worry about that. Remember when Rae came and talked to the class?” Hannah leaned over to pick up the song sheet Lily had dropped.
Grace and Sadie sat back and whispered, comparing what they remembered about the newspaperwoman, Rae.
“Hannah, what if the other newspaper people don’t listen to Rae?” Grace smiled when Sadie reached over and laced fingers with her. They were best friends, and they were going to stand beside each other when the time came for songs. Lily would be next to them.
“Our parents trust Rae, and they think this is best.”
Grace turned around and tried to see out the back of the buggy. She moved to the right and the left, because mostly she could only see boys’ Sunday hats, but finally she was able to make out Chance. Behind their buggy horse would be her dad and Miriam.
Sometimes when she was going to sleep, she would dream about her dat and her teacher marrying. She knew that was only a dream that she wanted to come true. She was older now, nearly nine, and she knew the difference between pretending and what was real.
When folks were planning on marrying for real, they went riding in buggies alone and stayed for dinner. There were signs. Her dad and Miriam didn’t have the right signs. Miriam hadn’t been over for dinner once, and they never went for buggy rides alone. Grace had even offered to stay home by herself. She’d told her dad that she was old enough if he wanted to go out driving, but he only laughed and told her he was fine sitting and reading the Budget again.
Sometimes she did catch them looking at each other funny, and then she’d think maybe…but so far, nothing.
She’d talked to God about this…but again, nothing.
Abigail, Miriam’s mom, said praying could take a while. She said sometimes it took years.
Grace turned around in her seat and smoothed out her dress. For her dad’s sake, she hoped this prayer worked a little faster. He might not have years if he was looking to marrying. She’d noticed a little gray in his beard one morning this week. When she’d mentioned it, he’d laughed and laughed, which made no sense to her at all.
She was about to turn to Sadie and ask her if her dad ever laughed about things that weren’t one bit funny, when the buggy began to slow as they entered town. The streets were lined with lots of people—Amish and Englisch, and there were cars everywhere.
“Say, look at that truck,” Adam whispered to Luke.
“Never seen one with lights on top like that.”
“It’s for spotlighting deer,” John said.
He was sitting behind the two boys. Though he could have driven a buggy if he’d wanted to, he’d chosen to ride along with them. Grace wondered if it was because he liked to be with Hannah, but then he didn’t sit with Hannah. The boy-girl thing was all very confusing to her.
“What’s that mean, spotlighting?” Luke asked.
“You shine a light in their eyes so they don’t move, and then you shoot them.” John sat back without another word to let the boys decide for themselves if the truck was still something they liked or not.
Grace didn’t care about the Englisch cars, but she’d certainly never seen so many of them—not even when they had ridden on the bus from Indiana. Of course, she’d slept much of that trip, which was last November. Thinking about it, that seemed to have happened years and years ago. It seemed as though it were someone else who had stepped onto that bus holding her dad’s hand.
“I see her!” Sadie said. “I see Rae.”
As soon as she pointed, Grace saw her too, standing back near the hitching posts and handing out sheets of paper.
What was on those sheets of paper?
“We’re here, kinner.” Eli murmured to the horses, pulled them to a stop, and then turned around to face everyone in the buggy. “Out slow and careful to keep your clothes clean. I tried to park away from the mud, but that wasn’t so easy to do with all of the traffic.”
Esther’s buggy had parked to the left of theirs, and her dat and Miriam were on the right. Hannah walked out of the buggy first and John stepped out last. By the time Grace and Sadie hopped out, fingers still laced together, she felt as though she were in the middle of a church service.
There were so many Amish around her that she couldn’t see anything but trousers and long dresses.
When would she grow taller? At least she could hear well enough.
As the adults were guiding the children to the steps in front of the building, a man stepped up and started speaking into something that made his voice loud. Grace thought it only made him sound noisy. In fact, he reminded her of the bull in the pasture when he was in one of his moods. He could stomp and snort and make the craziest sounds. That was what this man sounded like.
Was he why they were here? Miriam said they were here to sing their songs and show people what it really meant to be Plain.
Grace watched her teacher and Esther as they arranged everyone on the steps, tallest in back and shortest in front. She tried not to listen to the man speaking, but some of his words leaked into her head.
“Proud to announce a new business venture…”
“Venture” was a word she didn’t know yet. She’d have to look it up in the big dictionary at school.
“Joining hands with the people of Cashton…”
She had never met this man, she was sure of it. She had met some Englischers, like Doc Hanson. Was he in the crowd? Yes! He was standing by the newspaper people with their cameras.
Oh. The cameras. Goose bumps popped up on her arms, but then she noticed that the cameras were only around their necks. They weren’t looking through them. Maybe Rae had put something on her sheet of paper. Maybe Rae had explained what it meant to be Plain.
Now the man wasn’t talking anymore. Instead a woman was. Her voice was better.
“Before Mr. Drake reveals more about the renovation of the hotel, we thought it would be nice for the press to hear a presentation from our local Amish schoolchildren. As you know, this is a rare treat, and I personally want to thank the schoolteachers—Miriam King and Esther Schrocks—as well as the school board of the Plain School on Pebble Creek for bringing the children into town today.”
There was a smattering of applause. The woman waited for the crowd to quiet, and then she continued talking. “We consider the Amish citizens of Cashton and the surrounding area to be a vital part of our community. As such, we always want to respect their unique lifestyle, their beliefs, and their history.”
Grace couldn’t see her, but she could hear the smile in her words. “A member of our local media has given you a handout that highlights basic facts about the Amish in general and the Cashton Amish in particular—facts anyone can easily verify if they are so inclined. And now I hope you enjoy the songs of the schoolchildren.”
Suddenly Grace didn’t mind that she was still short, because she could see Miriam, and she could see her dad standing behind her with the rest of the church members. When Miriam held up her hands to signal for them to start, the voice that came out of Grace’s mouth was stronger than ever before. And that was a miracle.
Singing out loud was so much better than singing in her head.
All of the songs were her favorites—one was in German and two in Englisch. She didn’t have to worry about forgetting the words because they were ones they sang in school and church every week.
When they were finished, everyone in the crowd clapped. This time they clapped louder and longer than they had for the woman who spoke. Then Miriam motioned for them to sit down on the steps.
The man with the angry voice started speaking again, and he didn’t sound any happier. If anything, he sounded as if he wanted to be somewhere else. Grace knew what that sounded like because for a long time she didn’t want to be here—but now…well, now here was home.
Chapter 51
Miriam couldn’t help laughing at the pile of lunches on the front table. Each year she tried to think of something different to do for Valentine’s Day, but this year her heart wasn’t in it—no pun intended.
Probably because her own love life had come up against a quarry wall. Not that she had anyone to blame but herself.
Aden had come home again over the weekend. He’d received her letter, and they had talked about it. She reminded him that she still counted him as an important freind. He’d taken it well, ducked his head, and smiled. She’d seen the hurt beneath, but knew it was best to be honest with him rather than to pretend to care for him in a way that she didn’t. As her mamm was fond of saying, “You can’t make cider without apples.” Perhaps that particular proverb didn’t specifically refer to love and marriage, but to Miriam’s way of thinking, it fit perfectly.
So Valentine’s Day had crept closer, and she’d had no inspiration. Esther had gone through her folder of ideas and chosen the lunch swap activity she’d used years before.
“I think they must have enjoyed preparing for the day from the looks of things.” Esther pulled a chair up beside her. “Everyone is washing up.”
“Gut. I wasn’t sure we’d ever settle the twins down after recess.”
“Ya. They have a lot of energy.” Esther glanced back over the room. “Did I tell you that Joseph heard Mr. Drake is completely changing the renovation concept?”
“Rae stopped by our house on Sunday and said the same thing. The new name for the business is Amish Anthem.”
Esther beamed at her. “I love it! I wasn’t sure what he was going to do after the speech he made last week. Honestly, those statistics he quoted made no sense in my opinion. All that talk of expenditures and job projections. Sounded narrisch to me.”
“Apparently, Drake goes a little crazy when he’s made to look the fool in front of the press, but there was nothing he could do about it. The children singing was the final bit of push the media needed to win the town over—”
“That and Rae’s Amish information sheet.”
Miriam nodded. They had won the battle with Drake. He’d even agreed to a much scaled-back retail model that was without arcades, astronomy, and acoustics.
So why didn’t today feel like a victory?
Hannah and two of the older girls let loose a harmony of giggles from the middle row.
Esther shook her head, as if that hadn’t been her a few short years ago. “Did you notice the lunch John made? I’m sure he’s hoping Hannah will choose it. He set it way at the back so the younger students wouldn’t s
ee it.”
“That, and there’s an H on the heart he glued on the outside.” Miriam sent her a sideways glance. Young love could be so poignant. Most years she would laugh at such things. Today it made her want to climb the steps to her room, crawl into bed, and pull her oldest, most favorite quilt up over her head.
“The cookies and punch are set out at the back for afternoon games,” Esther said. “I’ll start everyone on the lunch exchange.”
Moving to the front of the room, she began pulling names from the Valentine box. As she pulled each name, the student would come forward and select a lunch from the table. Everyone laughed when Luke chose the pail with pictures of mice all over it. There was no doubt Grace had decorated it and that it was meant for Sadie, but the girls were good sports about it.
Sadie leaned over to Grace and said, “I still have your valentine card,” while Luke pretended to be confused about the entire thing.
“What? I like mice. They’re interesting creatures.”
He wasn’t fooling anyone. He’d taken to sitting with Grace during recess every morning, though he still hung around the boys at lunch.
When there were only two lunches remaining, Miriam stood to select hers, but Esther moved forward. “I’ll go next.”
There were quite a few giggles as she chose the nicer of the two boxed lunches that were left—one that Miriam had seen Eli give to his middle child to bring into the room that morning.
A solitary lunch box remained on the table. It was simple and undecorated on the outside, though it had paper handles glued to it in the shape of hearts.
“This is going to be a hard choice,” Miriam murmured.
Now the girls were all whispering to one another, while the boys were watching her intently.
Had she missed something? Surely they had not placed a rubber snake into her box.
Suddenly her memory slipped back to the year she had first used the lunch swap for Valentine’s Day. Daniel Lapp had been in her class then. He’d thought it clever to fashion a false bottom into a lunch box. When the young lady had picked it up, the bottom had fallen out. Her entire lunch had fallen out on the floor, to the delight of the class.
A Promise for Miriam Page 30