A Promise for Miriam (39 page)

“Miriam, correct?” She shook both of their hands. “And Gabe. I’m so glad you both could come again today. I was just saying to Samuel that I believe our board of trustees can only make an informed decision if both parties are represented.”

“We are happy to represent our district as well as the other Amish district in the Cashton area,” Miriam said. “We believe the development Mr. Drake is proposing will affect us all.”

“And we definitely want to hear your concerns. If you would like coffee or a cold drink, there are some beverages at the back of the room. We’ll be starting in a few minutes.” Mrs. Goodland excused herself to go and greet others who were finding their places around the table.

Several nodded in greeting, though they didn’t walk over and attempt any conversation.

“I believe they think we bite,” Gabe muttered.

“Perhaps we should make the first effort.”

“
Ya
. Maybe so.”

At that moment Byron Drake pushed through the front doors—“pushed” was the only word for it. Both doors opened at once, and the man came through with a burst of February afternoon wind. He was followed by three other men, all in black suits and red ties.

Drake also wore a red tie, but he sported a gray suit made of some sort of silvery material. Gabe didn’t usually notice what other men wore, but these four looked as if they were dressed for a parade. He had never met Drake personally, but there was no mistaking who he was or that he was the leader. There was no doubt they were a team, same as Gabe’s workhorses. He yoked them up to plow a field, and they pulled together with one mind, one goal before them. These four appeared ready to attack the assembled group with their folders and briefcases.

Drake’s head was as bald and shiny as it had appeared in the
Englisch
newspaper, but he was younger than Gabe had expected. How did a man his age lose all his hair? He was also fit, which was somewhat unusual in
Englischers
—at least, that had been true in Gabe’s experience.

The three behind him looked pastier, as if they didn’t see the sun much. And while Drake worked the room, shaking each person’s hand—even shaking Samuel’s hand—the three behind him stood back, as if waiting to see what their leader might need.

Miriam watched with amusement as Byron Drake made his way around the room and then toward her and Gabe. She wasn’t sure this man was evil, but she was convinced that what he was planning to do would ultimately harm her students.

That brought out her urge to protect.

She had to plaster on a smile as he came forward.

“And you must be the schoolmarm.”

“Teacher. Miriam King.”

“Pleased to meet you. I’ve wanted to tell you how impressed I was with your Christmas program. It’s part of what convinced me to choose Cashton for our development.”

Miriam snapped her mouth shut over the retort that came to mind. Both of her parents had warned her against saying anything she, or the community, might regret.

“And you are?”

“Gabriel Miller.”

“Ah. I’d be most interested in having your photo on the front of our brochures. You’re a fine—” Miriam had no doubt he was about to say “specimen”—“example of Amish life and how healthy it is. Exactly what people will be coming to see.”

“I’m not interested.” Gabe dropped his hand. Miriam noticed the muscle in his cheek tick again as it had out on the street. Was he that worried about the damage this development might do to their community? Somehow the realization endeared him to her even more, which she hadn’t thought possible.

“Perhaps you don’t understand how much we would be willing to compensate you. Or maybe you think modeling is only women’s work. It isn’t. I myself have—”

“I’m not interested.” Gabe’s voice didn’t change in tone or volume, but there was no mistaking the resolve in his words.

“Oh.” Drake was apparently not used to being denied. He took a step back and then glanced toward a minion, who scuttled forward. “Tell Goodland we’re ready to begin. I have a schedule to maintain.”

Without another word, he pivoted away from them and walked across the room.

“Well, that was a
gut
first impression.” Miriam picked up a bottle of water from the refreshment table.

“From both perspectives, no doubt.”

“
Ya
. He was very taken with you.”

“He probably wanted my workhorse in front of his cameras too.”

Janice Goodland walked to the middle of the room. “If you all would take your seats, we’ll start this meeting. It appears everyone is here who is going to make it. We understand Mr. Stutzman had some transportation problems and will join us if possible.”

Someone muttered, “Get an automobile, buddy.”

Mrs. Goodland ignored the comment, if she heard it, and put on her reading glasses. Miriam thought she was a beautiful woman with a pleasant personality, even though she was very different from the Amish women she knew. It seemed odd that she’d grown up in the Cashton area but had never had cause to meet Mrs. Goodland before.

Other than herself, there were only two other women in the room, which had become rather crowded while they were speaking with Drake. There was the woman who worked for the village president, the one who had spoken with them during the last meeting. Miriam recognized her. There was also another woman standing near the back of the room, and Miriam was sure she’d never seen her before.

Missing was Drake’s female associate from the last meeting. Had she been reassigned to another project? The redheaded man was not present either. Perhaps the two were back in the tall office buildings of Mr. Drake, working on his renovation plans.

“I’d like to begin with everyone making brief introductions.”

There was Drake and his three merry men. Miriam barely caught their names, as Drake introduced and dismissed them with a casual wave of his hand.

The board of trustees consisted of President Goodland, the clerk, the treasurer, and the tax assessor. Though Miriam had met them previously, she still had trouble putting the correct name with the correct face. As soon as her attention moved from one to the next, the previous person’s name slipped through her mind like sand through an hourglass.

However, the name of the woman at the back of the room she wouldn’t forget, because her name sounded like words in a poem—Rae Caperton. With shoulder-length hair and a dark tan, she looked about Miriam’s age. She was now sitting at a smaller table, and she was typing on a laptop as they introduced themselves. She had taken Drake’s picture with Janice Goodland when the man first walked in. When she introduced herself, she said she was a reporter with the
Lacrosse Tribune.

“Another person to request your photo,” Miriam teased Gabe in a whisper.

“Did you notice she put her camera away, though? She didn’t even attempt to take our pictures.” Gabe regarded the reporter thoughtfully as Samuel introduced their group.

“Excellent. That’s everyone, I believe.”

The words were barely out of Mrs. Goodland’s mouth when Eli came through the door. His clothes were a bit disheveled, and he seemed somewhat out of breath from hurrying, but he’d made it.

“Mr. Stutzman?”

“Yes.”

“We heard you had buggy problems.”

“
Ya
, I did. A wheel broke, but an
Englischer
stopped and gave me a hand with it.” He took the seat Miriam had saved for him. “I’m sorry if I held you up.”

“Not at all.” Mrs. Goodland looked down at her notes again and then addressed everyone in the room. “I’d like to thank you all for coming. We have busy work schedules, and I don’t abide useless meetings. What Mr. Drake is proposing will significantly affect all of the residents of Cashton, but perhaps none more than those assembled here. In light of that, we’re holding this meeting to allow him to present his plans and then to listen to concerns from representatives of the Amish community.”

She paused and removed her glasses. “I want to go on the record as saying that nothing said in this room today is binding. There will be no decisions made at this meeting. It is an exchange of information only. Am I clear?”

All present nodded, though Miriam noticed that Drake was examining his fingernails as he did so. She wondered if he had a splinter or hangnail, or perhaps he was bored.

“Excellent. Mr. Drake, I’d like to begin with you, and I ask that you keep your presentation to two minutes.”

Drake stood and straightened his jacket. “It will be difficult to present the scope of the marvelous plans we have for Cashton within two minutes.”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way. Pretend you’ve paid for a commercial spot.”

Drake tried to pierce Mrs. Goodland with a stare, but she’d sat and was fumbling in her purse to turn off her cell phone. Miriam’s opinion of the village president rose the more she was around her. It was apparent she wasn’t swayed by expensive suits or wealthy men.

“Very well. My corporation plans to refurbish the abandoned hotel downtown. We’ve contacted the owners and made a very attractive bid, which only a fool would turn down.”

Running his hand down the length of his tie, he continued. Miriam couldn’t help but notice that he wore a gold ring with a diamond embedded in it on his right hand—not a wedding ring, so what was it? “Our business proposal includes a marketing plan that highlights the local Amish community.”

He nodded toward one of his people, who popped up and began distributing glossy folders. On the front was a picture of the old hotel. Across the top, in large words, was printed Amish Abbey and below that Cashton, Wisconsin. The front of the building had been redone though to look like a Catholic church—St. Mary’s up near Norwalk. Miriam was afraid to touch her folder, afraid to even open it. Her anger was building, struggling against feelings of hopelessness. When the
Englisch
made their minds up to do something, they were like big bulldozers on the freeways. Stopping them seemed nearly impossible.

“If you’ll open your folder, you will see that we envision quite a few businesses, including Amish Accents for home furnishings, Amish Accessories for women’s needs, Amish Acoustics to highlight—”

“We’re not Catholic.”

“Excuse me.” Drake peered at Gabe as if he were a lesser mortal, as if he were in fact something stuck on the bottom of his shoe that he needed one of his minions to scrape off.

“I said we’re not Catholic.” Gabe held up the folder. “You’ve redone the hotel to resemble a Catholic church and printed the words ‘Amish Abbey’ across the top.”

“Your point?”

“We’re not Catholic. We’re Amish.”

Drake smiled—tightly, in an unfriendly way.

Miriam noticed that Samuel had also not touched or opened his folder.

Eli, on the other hand, had not only opened his, but had the sheets inside spread out on the table in front of him.

“What difference does it make?”

“It makes a big difference to us. Amish Abbey is like saying Catholic Temple, but Catholics don’t worship in a temple, and we don’t worship in an abbey.”

Drake’s face turned pink, and he again stroked his tie. Miriam glanced down and saw that Gabe’s hand had tightened around the pen he was holding. The two looked as if they might begin shouting at any moment.

Should she say something? Should they even have attended the meeting?

When it seemed the tension could grow no worse, Mrs. Goodland rose from her seat.

Chapter 48

G
abe tried to force his hand to relax, but the picture on the front of Drake’s folder had nearly sent him over the edge.

Amish Abbey!

The man was worse than arrogant. He was also ignorant. And though his associates must have told him about the previous meeting, it seemed that he had no intention of changing any of his plans.

Mrs. Goodland glanced from Gabe to Drake. “Perhaps we could note Mr. Miller’s concern about the name of the project and revisit that particular issue in a moment.”

The members of the board focused first on Mrs. Goodland, then on Drake, and then they stared again at Gabe—as if he were the odd man out. It was as if they were watching a volleyball match, only this wasn’t a game.

Cashton was where Gabe’s daughter lived, where his friends lived, and he didn’t appreciate this strange man coming in and changing the entire makeup of the village in order to earn a dollar.

“I think you’re overreacting, Mr. Miller.” Drake drew his shoulders back and raised his chin higher. “Amish Abbey is merely the facility’s name. Perhaps you should leave the advertising aspects to us. Now, if I may continue—”

“I have a question.” Eli raised his hand, reminding Gabe of one of the schoolchildren in Miriam’s classroom.

Mrs. Goodland sat down with a sigh, and Drake directed his plastic smile to Eli.

“It appears you took these pictures of Amish children during our school play. I can’t imagine how. I was there, and I don’t remember seeing anyone with a camera.”

Gabe watched Drake closely. He didn’t admit or deny taking the photos at the Pebble Creek school. He only waited for Eli to continue.