A Promise for Miriam (23 page)

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Gabe said. “It’s a natural enough thing to ask.”

“It’s only that...when you’re with Grace, or even when you talk of Grace, there’s an intensity about you. It’s as if you have this special
thing
you need to protect.”

“I do.”

They pushed out the back door of the barn into the fading December sunlight.

Now they were standing directly across from the nursery barn. Instead of continuing to it, Gabe walked to the fence and studied Schmucker’s pastures.

He understood what Miriam wanted to know. Not what she was asking, but what she truly wanted, and it tore at his heart. He’d come to care for her in the last three weeks more than he had realized. As he’d watched Aden stare at her during lunch, he’d become even more convinced of the reason for the young man’s trip home.

It synced up with what Clemens had told him in his rough way.

There was no doubt that Aden wanted to court Miriam King.

Looking out at the pastures, barns, and buildings of Aden’s father, he knew he would be a fool to stand in the way.

What did he have to offer her? A broken-down farm, an orphaned daughter, and a heart that hadn’t yet healed.

Moreover, he honestly wasn’t sure a whole home was God’s plan for him. Perhaps he was to learn to be satisfied with the piece of happiness he had—with his daughter, a roof over his head, and good health. Reaching for more seemed selfish. He’d had more once, and he’d lost it. Did he even want to risk that happening again?

He wasn’t sure, and he wouldn’t be bringing any of that up in their conversation.

Instead, he turned to her and tried to answer the other part of her question, the surface part, the part that spoke to her desire to have a
boppli
of her own. Maybe a desire she didn’t even recognize yet, but he saw it in her face every time she paused to help Grace.

“It seems to me there are many things you can earn…a
gut
farm, respect of people you work with, even the love of a man or woman.” She gazed at him as if she were hanging on his every word, and that bothered him. He didn’t need anyone looking at him with such adoration. He knew too well how certain it was that he would mess up—not once but many times.

Looking out over the pasture again, he prayed for the words, the right words that would help Miriam see what God wanted her to see. When he turned back, he held his hands together, as if he were cupping water from a stream. “The love of a child, your own child, comes to you all at once—like a package on Christmas afternoon. You want to hold it to you, to treasure it and protect it, but that child is much like water.”

He spread his hands apart slightly.

“You can’t hold it,” she whispered.

“No. Much as you try, you can’t. The child grows, faster than you would believe possible—as quickly as water slips through your fingers.”

She moved next to him. They both stood there, looking out toward the western fields.

“Perhaps that’s what you notice when you see me looking at Grace. You see me trying to pour my love over her as she slips through my fingers.”

His eyes met hers for the briefest of moments, and he had a nearly overwhelming desire to reach out and touch her, to soothe the worried look on her face.

But he didn’t.

They walked toward the nursery barn then, and when Gabe opened the door, the sounds of laughing children stole away the somberness of the moment.

“
Mamm
never explained it that way,” Miriam admitted. “She only said having a
boppli
was a terrible pain for a few hours but worth it in the end.”

Gabe grunted. “Your mother is a practical woman.”

“Maybe that’s whom I take after.”

“And your
dat
?”

Miriam smiled as Grace ran up to them, grabbed both of their hands, and whispered, “Come see.”

“
Dat
pretends to be practical, but deep inside I believe he’s a dreamer.”

“Perhaps you are a combination of both.” Gabe fought to keep the lightness in his voice, but if the first barn and the grounds hadn’t convinced him of what he should and shouldn’t do, the nursery barn certainly did.

He saw pens, stalls, feeding and watering troughs, and good ventilation. And, of course, everything was solidly constructed.

Miriam King deserved the best, and there was no doubt in his mind—from all he was seeing and everything he had heard—that Aden Schmucker was the man who could give it to her.

Chapter 27

I
t feels like he’s avoiding me.” Miriam held up the shawl she was knitting for her mother and studied it in the lamplight. She had chosen to use a triangle pattern that measured fifty-six inches across. A fast knitter, Miriam knew she could finish it before Christmas.

Her mother wouldn’t have needed a new shawl, but Pepper had destroyed her favorite one a month ago.

Miriam had slipped out the back door to use the outhouse and neglected to shut the door tightly. Pepper had snuck inside and proceeded to climb into the rocker and make a nest on top of the shawl. If that wasn’t bad enough, he’d pawed a big hole into the middle of it. Her mother hadn’t made a fuss, but Miriam had seen the fire in her eyes when she’d ordered the dog
out
!

A new shawl for Christmas was the least she could do, and the blue and brown yarns were beautiful.

The trouble wasn’t with the pattern or the yarn. The trouble was with her knitting.

“Problem with that shawl?” Esther asked.

“
Ya
. I dropped another stitch. In fact, I dropped several.” Miriam sighed and began unraveling the last row.

“Maybe you’re distracted.”

“I am distracted. I’m telling you, Esther. Gabe Miller is avoiding me.”

“Did he pick up Grace after her speech lesson?” Esther moved the light so she could better see her embroidery. With Christmas only six days away, they both had several projects to finish. Needless to say, neither was assigning homework that would require grading.

“He did, but he didn’t even get out of the buggy. He waited outside.”

“Maybe he was in a hurry.”

“That was the first time he waited outside, though. He always comes in to talk about how she’s doing.”

“How is she doing?”

“Terrific.” Miriam dropped the knitting needles in her lap. “It’s remarkable how much she’s improved in such a short time.”

“
Gotte is gut
,” Esther murmured.

They continued working in silence a few moments before Miriam brought up the subject again. “I think it’s because of the conversation we had on Sunday.”

“The one about babies?”

“What other conversation would I be talking about?” Miriam threw her friend an exasperated look.

“Oh, I don’t know. I thought maybe you talked about crops or weather, or maybe even who the new minister might be since the Kiems family is moving in the spring.”

“Esther Schrocks, if I didn’t know better I’d think you were teasing me.”

“And what’s to tease?” Esther pulled the black thread from her needle and changed it for a pretty yellow-gold. “It would be normal for you to take a liking to Gabe Miller. He’s a
gut
-looking man and he has a fine
dochder
.”

“Is that what you think this is about?” Miriam gave up any pretense of knitting. She dropped the balls of yarn and the needles into her basket and stood. She suddenly needed to move, even if it only meant walking around their small upstairs apartment.

“What do you think it’s about? Worry over missing a parent meeting you never even scheduled?”

Miriam stopped in her pacing, walked back to her chair, and perched on the edge of it. “I’m worried he thought I was baiting him, as I’ve sometimes seen girls do, with my questions about
bopplin
and families and all. I don’t even know what came over me. Why would I ask him such a thing? There are plenty of women in my family I could have asked.”

“But you didn’t want their perspective. You wanted his.” Esther glanced up from her needlework and smiled. Miriam found herself envying the young woman—there was such simple contentment in her expression.

“When did you become the wise one?” she asked softly.

“I’d hardly call me wise, but when you’re first
in lieb
, it’s like walking across the fields on a foggy day.”

“I would not say I’m
in lieb
—”

“And when there are two men involved, things are doubly complicated.”

“Now you sound
narrisch
.” Miriam picked up her knitting and resumed with the speed of the freight trucks that sped down the Cashton highways.

“I do?”

“You do.”

“Yet there are two men troubling your heart, and it’s best to admit it.” Miriam waved her words away, but Esther continued. “You blush when I mention Gabe, yet you rode home from the singing with Aden.”

“You know very well I accepted a ride with Aden because my
bruder
abandoned me.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Abandoned might be a strong word, but Simon wished to be alone with Emma, and I hated to deny them a private buggy ride.”

“Kind of you.”

“I didn’t even intend to stay for the singing. It seems I was tricked into that. I helped with the dinner cleanup, turned around, and my parents were gone. Gabe and Grace were also gone.”

“Would you have ridden with them?”

Miriam ignored the last question. “David and Noah were gone with their families as well, so then I had to stay.”

“I’ll bet you were heartbroken.”

“I wasn’t looking forward to it, though in the end it wasn’t as bad as I expected.”

Esther stood and stretched. “I can’t remember the last time you stayed for singing. It was good to have you there. I know for a fact that several men were watching you. Would you care to know who?”

“I would not.”

“Oh, Miriam. Are you not the least bit interested?”

“They are boys, Esther. You’re forgetting my age.”

“Except for Aden.”

Miriam slowed in her knitting, tugged fiercely on the ball of blue yarn, and then increased her speed to make up for her slack. “Except for Aden. I hope I didn’t lead him on by staying and by accepting the buggy ride.”

“A buggy ride isn’t a promise.” Esther walked to their kitchen and set the kettle on the back of the stove.

The night grew quiet around them. When Esther returned with two mugs of hot tea, she asked softly, “They’re both nice men,
ya
?”

Miriam didn’t answer her. She only sipped her tea and then returned to her knitting with a vengeance.

Little learning took place at school the rest of the week. By Thursday preparations for the Christmas program seemed to be consuming their every minute. Miriam was grateful Esther had taken over the planning of this year’s program. After eight years of teaching, she needed some fresh ideas, and Esther had plenty.

She handed the younger teacher her collected materials from previous years and told her to shout if she needed help. This was their third year to teach together. As Miriam watched her direct the students in decorating the schoolroom, she realized anew how much she would miss her the next school year. She was happy for her and excited about her upcoming marriage, and she trusted that God would provide another assistant teacher.

But change was always difficult.

Well…maybe not always.

Change in the Christmas presentation was a good thing. Esther’s ideas were fresh and fun but still in line with their commitment to simplicity and maintaining the correct focus on the proper meaning of the holiday.

“Do you like our snowflakes?” Lily held up a light blue sheet of paper. Grace and Sadie popped up next to her, each holding several blue snowflakes. The younger children had been cutting decorations for the last hour. Last year Miriam had them cut snowflakes from white paper and all one size, but Esther had thought to vary the sizes, from small enough to fit in the palm of your hand to a full sheet of paper.

The effect was dazzling.

“It’s
wunderbaar
.”