Miriam’s Quilt (Forever after in apple lake™)

by Jennifer Beckstrand

  “Four or five weeks?” Susie burst into tears and buried her face in the crook of her elbow on the table. “I don’t want to go.”

  Miriam pulled a handkerchief from her apron and reached over the table to nudge Susie’s chin up. “Don’t cry. It is silly to worry about such things. I don’t know what else to do.”

  “Do you really want me to go?”

  “What other choice do we have? Like as not, you will have a wonderful-gute time and want to stay forever.”

  Susie searched Miriam’s face. “Do you want me to stay forever?”

  “Nae, of course not.”

  Susie wiped leftover tears from her face and grabbed Miriam’s hand. “If you think I should go, I will go. I don’t want to hurt our family.”

  “It is for the best.”

  “Can you help me buy a bus ticket?”

  “Don’t you worry. I will take care of everything. Your job is to stay healthy and happy for the trip.”

  Susie didn’t shake her despondent air. “Jah, okay. You know what is best.” She stood, gave Miriam a terse hug, and practically ran back to the pretzel booth. She pressed the hem of her apron to her eyes before opening the small door and disappearing inside.

  A twinge of guilt nagged at Miriam like a fly buzzing in the corner of a room.

  It is for the best.

  Surely it would be better for Susie if no one in Apple Lake knew about this. She could return home after the baby’s birth and no one would be the wiser that she had fallen. Still, the tortured look on Susie’s face forced Miriam to second-guess herself and her motives.

  If this was the right thing, why did she feel so uneasy about it?

  * * * * *

  “It’s time. Now,” Miriam whispered to Susie.

  Mamm sat in the great room crocheting an edge on a blanket for baby Rudy, her second grandchild, born four months ago. Miriam’s oldest brother, Marvin, and his wife, Ruth, now had two little ones.

  Dat propped his stocking feet on the footrest while he read the newspaper. The three little boys had been tucked into bed and Yost was with Joe Bieler, probably riding around in Joe’s car and wishing he had one of his own.

  The propane lantern standing between Mamm and Dat hissed softly as it bathed the great room in bright light and cast shadows over the adjoining kitchen. Arm in arm, Miriam and Susie walked into the room and stood facing their parents in a show of unity. Susie shook with anxiety. Miriam was only slightly calmer. What if their parents would not give their permission? What other plan could they possibly come up with?

  Mamm and Dat looked up simultaneously. Dat lowered his paper, and Mamm glanced curiously at Dat.

  Miriam knew that the longer she waited, the more tongue-tied she would be. “Mamm, do you remember your cousin Katie Martins?”

  Mamm raised an eyebrow. “Do you mean my cousin Katie Martins Stutzman or second cousin Katie Ann Martins?”

  “Katie Ann in Ontario.”

  “She is a bit older than me. Lost three babies but had six that lived. Why do you ask? Do you remember her?”

  “She and cousin Hannah Weaver keep in touch,” Miriam said.

  “Okay,” Mamm prompted, looking from Miriam to Susie.

  Miriam took a deep breath. “Their children have grown and are tending farms of their own, and Hannah said Katie and her husband need help this summer and fall with the gardening. And the canning.”

  “I want to go stay with them in Canada,” Susie blurted out— not exactly as they had planned, but she sounded sincere.

  The declaration rendered Mamm momentarily speechless. She looked at her daughter as if they had dragged a dead horse into the house. “Why would you want to do a thing like that?” she finally said.

  “They need help, and I want to go somewhere new and exciting,” Susie said.

  Mamm shook her head. “This doesn’t sound like you at all, Suz. You don’t even like to sleep over at the cousins’.”

  Susie’s voice cracked. “I know. That is why I need to go to Canada. To get away. To learn to be strong. I can’t be a proper wife always longing for home. What would my husband think?”

  “You can cross that bridge when you come to it,” Mamm said. “A trip to Canada is deerich, foolish. You’d be homesick within a week and they would have to put you on the first bus back to Apple Lake.”

  “Nae, Mamm,” Miriam said. “She really wants to go. It will be so much fun.”

  Mamm dropped her crochet in her lap. “I won’t allow it. You are only seventeen.”

  Dat motioned for Miriam and Susie to sit on the sofa across from him. “Cum, let us talk about it.” He laced his fingers together and looked over his glasses at Susie. “How long have you been considering a trip to Canada?”

  “A…awhile.”

  “What inspired this idea? Canada is very far away.”

  “Hollow Davey Herschberger apprenticed in Ohio last year. And Esther Rose stayed with her aunt in Tennessee all winter. Hollow says it is good to see the world, to have new experiences.”

  “But that is Hollow’s opinion. You have never liked change. Help me understand why you want to go.”

  Susie started to cry—a common occurrence these days. Miriam hoped her parents hadn’t noticed the frequency. “I’m not brave. Miriam is always brave for me. I want to do something on my own. Without anyone’s help.”

  Miriam put her arm around her sister. They hadn’t rehearsed that. She sensed that Susie had revealed her deepest fear and her deepest desire at the same time.

  “Come here, little one.” Dat held out his hand.

  Susie went to him and sat on his lap, and he wrapped her in his arms as he had when she was a very little girl. She put her arms around him and buried her face in his neck. “There, there,” he said, patting her on the head and pulling her closer.

  “I really want to go, Dat.”

  Dat reached over and took Mamm’s hand. “Can we spare her until winter, Lisa?”

  Mamm sighed and shook her head. “I can never spare my Susie, but you decide what is best.”

  “I’ll not give my permission if you do not approve.” Dat and Mamm exchanged a look that did not escape Miriam’s notice. “But maybe it is what our Susie needs.”

  “We have noticed the change.” Mamm gave Susie a weak smile. “Maybe you are restless. A trip to Canada might help you realize how much you love Apple Lake.”

  “The very thing,” Dat said. “Although wintertime would be a better season for that. Ontario is colder than a block of ice in January.”

  Mamm clicked her tongue. “And Wisconsin ain’t? Summer will be hot enough to convince Susie that she doesn’t want to live there. The air is so wet, you can stick a cup out the window and catch a drink of water. Perhaps you should take Yost with you. He seems as restless as you do.”

  “So she can go?” Miriam asked.

  They all looked at Mamm.

  “I don’t feel perfectly right about it, but if she is determined to go, I will trust her decision. She is seventeen, after all.”

  Miriam leaped up and hugged her mother tightly. Susie stayed put in the rocking chair, nestled in her father’s arms.

  She wouldn’t be able to stay there forever.

  Chapter 6

  Miriam pulled a bolt of green-and-blue fabric from the shelf at Glick’s Fabric Shop and ran her hand along the muted watercolor design surely made just for her. The midnight blues were interrupted by lighter shades of cobalt and gray mingled with greens the color of crisp Wisconsin lakes and tall maples. The most beautiful colors of nature in one piece of fabric.

  This was the perfect material for her engagement quilt. If she started on it now, she would finish well before she and Ephraim were published and she could give it to him on the day he proposed. By that time, Susie would be back from Canada, all would go back to normal, and Miriam would not have this constant hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  The haunted look on Susie’s face kept Miriam away from home as much as possible
these days. She worked late at Martha’s quilt shop and visited Aunt Emma Weaver and Aunt Erla Miller often. And Miriam was always the first to volunteer to run errands for her mother. She didn’t want to be reminded of the pain, and she didn’t want to second-guess the decision to send Susie away.

  Everything would be fine if they could both get through the next eight months without being discovered. Susie would recover, their family would return to normal, and Ephraim would never have to know.

  Glick’s specialized in fabrics for Amish clothing but also had a good selection of material for quilts and other handicrafts. Miriam laid her fabric on the cutting table and thumbed through a basket of dress patterns. Frustration bubbled inside her. She had an awfully long time to sew a dress for her wedding. She could make twenty dresses before she and Ephraim were even published.

  Suddenly, Miriam’s almost-fiancé walked into the fabric shop. Ephraim sometimes delivered packages for his dat, and today he carried two big boxes into the store along with a clipboard and invoice.

  Miriam didn’t want him to see the fabric. She quickly picked it up and hid it behind her back. A silly thing to do, really, but she hadn’t time to come up with a better plan.

  Ephraim’s eyes lit up when he saw her standing there. He laid the boxes on the counter, ran his fingers through his hair, and in three long strides was at her side.

  “This is a wonderful surprise,” he said, flashing his bright teeth. “Although, where else would a person expect to find Miriam Bontrager than at the fabric store? They probably let you sleep overnight.”

  His joy at seeing her overflowed into laughter. She would have been overjoyed as well if she hadn’t been caught in the act of picking out fabric for his engagement quilt. She would hate it if the surprise were spoiled.

  “Delivering for your dat?” she said, backing away slightly. If she could manage to slip the bolt onto the nearest shelf, Ephraim wouldn’t be any the wiser.

  Ephraim grew serious. “You’ve got a secret, Miri.”

  Her heart did a somersault. Did he know about the baby?

  “A secret? What—what are you talking about?”

  His face bloomed into a grin. “What are you hiding behind your back? Is it a present for me?”

  Relief washed over Miriam like a spring rainstorm. Of course he was talking about the fabric. What else? These days she jumped at her own shadow.

  She shook a finger at him. “Oh no, you don’t, Ephraim Neuenschwander. You are not allowed to see behind my back. Turn around and march right out that door.”

  “I want to see. You know I’ll die of curiosity if you don’t show me.” He bobbed his head right then left, trying to discover what Miriam held out of sight. She turned her body to block his view.

  “I don’t want you to see.” My, but he was persistent.

  In a swift movement, he reached over her shoulder and snatched the bolt from her hand. She tried to grab it back, but he opened his eyes wide and waved the fabric over his head like a flag.

  When she gave up trying to retrieve it, he lowered the bolt and examined the pattern. “This is what all the trouble is about? Material?” He tucked the bolt under his arm and rubbed his chin. “You are making a quilt?”

  Miriam nodded.

  “For me?”

  “Jah, if you must know.”

  Ephraim hooted and did a little two-step shuffle with his feet. “For a certain event coming up in a couple of years?”

  Miriam frowned and furrowed her brow. “Now you’ve ruined the surprise.”

  “Don’t be cross. I am surprised. The surprise isn’t ruined at all.”

  Miriam took a deep breath and swallowed her irritation. Ephraim didn’t deserve her displeasure. He was just having fun with her. “I suppose you’ll be surprised when you see the finished product.” She plucked the bolt from his grasp. “Get a good look, because this is the last time you will see the fabric until it is made into a quilt.”

  Ephraim stuck his hands into his pockets. “I like it, Miri. I mean, I really do, but what would you think about picking out a nice brown instead?”

  “Why?”

  “I love brown. You are making the quilt for me, and I would like it better if it were brown.”

  Miriam repressed a twinge of disappointment. “Oh, okay. If that is what you would like better.” She marched down the aisle to the browns. Ephraim followed. “What kind do you like?”

  He studied the chocolate browns, chestnuts, and beiges until he pointed out a perfectly horrid tan, good for men’s underwear or curtains in a blind man’s sitting room.

  “This is gute,” he said. “The quilt you make me should be simple, to keep us warm. That is what a quilt is for, after all.”

  “I never thought about it that way,” Miriam said in concern. “Do you think my quilts are too fancy? I do not want to seem proud.”

  “Quilts you make to sell can be fancy. They bring more money. But you and me are going to be an ideal Amish couple—pious and humble.”

  A pot of trouble stirred Miriam’s insides, but she couldn’t put her finger on the reason. Was it sinful to surround herself with beauty? Surely the Ordnung did not discourage the people from keeping their homes as clean and as comely as possible. If so, no one would plant flowers or paint their barns. The quilt on Mamm’s bed had a double wedding ring design that sent a thrill through Miriam whenever she laid eyes on it. Was it gross vanity? Miriam’s head swam with questions.

  “My mamm says Susie is going to Canada,” Ephraim said, running his hand over the bolts of brown fabric. “It wonders me why you didn’t tell me.”

  “We made the arrangements only a few days ago. She will be leaving in four weeks.”

  “Why is she going?”

  “We have relatives up there. They need help on their farm, and she wants to get away for the summer…have an adventure, meet some new boys.” Miriam forced a playful smile onto her lips.

  Ephraim raised an eyebrow. “An adventure? She’s not thinking of jumping the fence, is she?”

  “Nae, she plans on being baptized when she comes home in the winter, Lord willing.”

  Ephraim furrowed his brow and went so far as to put a hand on her shoulder. “I must tell you, Miriam, I don’t think this is a gute idea. You have never mentioned these relatives before. Are they trustworthy? Will they be careful to not let Susie fall into temptation? She is prone to it, you know.”

  Miriam bit her bottom lip. Had Ephraim already sensed the truth? “It is an older couple with six grown children. They will take gute care of her. And I hear the Ontario Amish are more conservative than Pennsylvania.”

  “I have heard that.” He pondered the information and folded his arms. “I suppose she will be okay. You should write her often.”

  “I will.”

  From behind the counter, a small, plump Amish woman called to Ephraim. He winked playfully at Miriam and went to get the woman’s signature on his invoice.

  Miriam couldn’t stifle a grin. She loved it when he winked.

  Once all the papers were signed, Ephraim set the boxes behind the counter and waved across the store to Miriam before disappearing through the door. The string of bells on the handle tinkled as the door swung closed, and Miriam marveled for the thousandth time just how blessed she was to have Ephraim’s affection.

  Ephraim, so handsome and clever, could have had any girl he wanted. Miriam remembered sitting on Lizzie Herschberger’s porch after school with Lizzie and Frieda, waiting to catch a glimpse of Ephraim Neuenschwander as he walked home from school. Their ten-year-old dreams consisted of planning a wedding day with the best-looking boy in the district.

  He took notice of Miriam when she was in the sixth grade, much to the envy of her friends, and asked her to walk home from school with him. The attention of an eighth grader became the high point of every day. As a young teenager, he had singled Miriam out as the girl he wanted to marry. “You are the prettiest girl in town,” he’d told her. “And not bossy like Lizzie He
rschberger.” Every other girl in the district had swooned at Miriam’s blessed circumstances.

  Miriam stared at the tan broadcloth for a good five minutes before she pulled it from between two potato-brown bolts and carried it to the cutting table. If she made a Nine-Patch design, she could dress up the tan with yellows and reds—give it some country charm. Surely Ephraim wouldn’t object to a Nine-Patch. The bishop’s wife had made a Nine-Patch quilt for her granddaughter’s wedding last winter. If it was good enough for the bishop, it would be good enough for Ephraim.

  Feeling more encouraged, Miriam found a beautiful burgundy and a sunshine yellow to accent the tan fabric. It might be a beautiful quilt after all.

  Only the best for Ephraim.

  Only the best for their marriage.

  Chapter 7

  “Whoa there, Daisy.”

  Miriam reined in her horse at the top of the lane, where a small hand-painted sign stood at the entrance to Seth Lambright’s property. It looked lonely and insignificant, standing by itself under the shade of three tall maples. “LAMBRIGHT RANCH” it read in black lettering that could only have been painted by a man. No well-formed letters, no neat, straight lines. It might as well have said “No trespassing,” for all the charm it conveyed.

  Daisy had been Miriam’s companion for as long as she could remember. She was technically Dat’s riding horse, but Miriam rode her more than anyone else in the family did. It would have been fitting for Dat to give Daisy to Miriam as a wedding present, except that Daisy was a little long in the teeth. At almost twenty-six years old, Daisy was ready to be put out to pasture, literally. Dat knew that Miriam would love a horse she could ride for years to come.

  Miriam patted Daisy on the neck and spurred her forward. Dread and eagerness warred inside her head. She dreaded seeing Seth Lambright again after all the hurtful things he’d said to her. Would he admonish her once more? Or treat her to the cold silence he so often gave her?