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

by Jennifer Beckstrand

  But those questions only motivated her to win Seth over, if she could, and convince him that she wasn’t a bad person, to show him that she bore him no ill will—even though she’d never seen the inside of his house.

  Her desire to see her new horse overshadowed every misgiving she had about the visit. A new foal frolicking around the pasture was about the most adorable thing Miriam had ever seen. Her excitement at picking her very own horse provided all the motivation she needed.

  She rode through the thick stand of maples that stood at the edge of Seth’s property. Once past the trees, Miriam slowed Daisy to a walk as the vibrant green of Seth’s alfalfa fields took her breath away. Set against the bright white of the fences and the brilliant blue sky, the pastures looked invitingly lush.

  Almost a quarter mile down the hard dirt lane stood the old stable. Seth had come into the land when his old dawdi passed away and had no sons to sell the property to. He gave it to Seth for ten dollars an acre. At least that was the rumor. Miriam didn’t take a keen interest in Seth Lambright’s affairs.

  The stable looked ancient. Rust from the hinges streaked down the edges of the large doors. Four long windows along the side were bare of glass, and the wood siding had long ago lost any hint of paint.

  Miriam headed to the small door at the far side of the stable, where she would begin her search for Seth.

  Before she got close, the door opened and Mary Shetler walked out of the stable with her baby balanced on her hip and her little daughter Annie holding tightly to her free hand. Miriam waved. Mary glanced around furtively, caught sight of Miriam, and walked quickly and resolutely in the opposite direction. Miriam was far enough away that Mary could pretend not to have seen her. But why did she? Mary Shetler and Mamm were good friends.

  Miriam rode up to the door, dismounted, and secured Daisy to a shiny hook bolted to the side of the stable. It looked out of place against the weathered wood. She straightened her kapp and regarded the gray sweatpants peeking out from under her dress. Ephraim didn’t like the look of Miriam’s riding outfit, but surely Seth Lambright wouldn’t pay notice. His sister probably rode all the time.

  She tapped on the door before deciding that knocking on a stable door looked a little silly. She cracked open the door, which squealed like an angry cat, and stepped hesitantly into the dim space. To her left was a small room with a desk and a cot that could in no way be ample for Seth’s long legs. A loft, stacked to the ceiling with bales of hay and bags of feed, loomed above the little room.

  To her right, ten stalls ran the length of the stable, the stall doors as old and decrepit as the outside walls. The sun shone through the glass-less windows like beams of solid light, illuminating the particles of hay and dust that hovered in every barn ever built.

  Miriam strained her ears. “Hello?”

  No sound. Venturing farther into the stable, she heard water dripping into one of the troughs but couldn’t see a single horse. Probably all out to pasture.

  “Hello,” she said again and listened to her voice echo off the rafters.

  Light flooded the space as Seth opened the door across from her and marched inside. He stopped short as he caught sight of her. The surprise was evident on his face before he replaced the expression with a slight downward curl of his lips and a look of—what was it—concern? Like as not, he didn’t welcome her presence in his stable.

  “You came after all,” he said.

  She smiled as best she could—wanted to make sure he knew that she harbored no hard feelings. “I just saw Mary Shetler.”

  “Did you now?”

  She puzzled over his cryptic response and decided not to pry further. “Is—is this a gute time? I am sure you are busy.”

  “The foals are out running with their mothers. Cum, I will show you.”

  Seth motioned for her to lead the way and followed as she ambled out the door, and then he took up the lead to an adjoining pasture where two mares grazed while their foals jumped and ran around, testing their legs like two mischievous toddlers.

  Miriam didn’t try to contain her enthusiasm. She clapped her hands in delight. “Oh, they are adorable! Cuter than kittens.” She giggled as one of the foals leaped into the air and kicked up his back legs as if he were showing off for her.

  Seth seemed pleased with her enthusiasm. “The one with the white patch on his nose is a colt. The other is a filly. Both thoroughbreds.”

  Miriam climbed one rung of the fence, wrapped her arms around the top slat, and watched the foals in silence. The short hair of their coats shone in the sunlight, and their long legs seemed disproportionate to their bodies. Miriam loved to see their developing leg and hind muscles flex and stretch. The colt was a chestnut brown while the filly’s coat was lighter, much like the tan Ephraim had picked out for his quilt—a beautiful color on a horse.

  “Have you named them?” she asked.

  “Nae. I thought you would want to name your own. Which one do you want?”

  Miriam propped her chin on her hands. “They are both so beautiful. I feel like a mother forced to choose between her two children. Which would you choose?”

  “Me?” He rubbed his chin. “That one might be something of a handful,” he said, pointing to the colt. It danced around the pasture.

  “I can handle it.”

  “I know you can,” he said, turning his face to the pasture. “You handle a horse like you were born in the saddle.”

  Miriam suddenly felt shy and lowered her eyes. “Thank you.”

  “Neither of these foals will ever throw a rider. I will train them well.”

  “I know you will. I’ve ridden a horse you trained.”

  The corners of Seth’s lips turned down slightly.

  Miriam cleared her throat. “The pastures look very pretty. I love the golden Alexanders up against the fence. Did you plant them, or do they grow wild?”

  “They’re volunteers,” Seth said.

  “Your stable is nice and big. Lots of space and light. You must be very proud of all the work you’ve done here. The horses are very high quality, and the property is well-maintained.”

  “This old stable is more than sixty years old. The only things well-maintained are my horses.”

  “Nae, truly. The stable floor is clean and the stalls are gute size.”

  Seth shook his head and cracked an uncharacteristic smile.

  Miriam frowned and jumped down from the fence. “What is so funny?”

  “You don’t have to try so hard.”

  “Try so hard at what?”

  “At getting me to like you.”

  Miriam planted her hands on her hips. “Maybe you should try harder at getting me to like you.”

  “I don’t care if you like me.”

  “Oh, really?” Miriam arched an eyebrow. “Well, maybe I don’t care if you like me.”

  “It’s too late to try to pull that one, Miriam Bontrager. I can read you like a book.”

  “There you go again, thinking you can read my mind. If you are so smart, what am I thinking right now?”

  Seth furrowed his brows and pointed to a bucket near the corner of the stable. “You are thinking you would like to pour that water all over my head.”

  Miriam looked away. “Hmm. You really can read my mind.”

  His eyes sparkled like a five-year-old with a frog in his pocket. She hadn’t expected that.

  Her heartbeat quickened.

  He wasn’t cross with her after all.

  His momentary amusement gave way to that look of concern she saw earlier, and he took her by the elbow and led her to a short, rustic bench sitting against the side of the stable. The unexpected touch sent a warm sensation up Miriam’s arm. Ephraim wouldn’t have dreamed of taking such a liberty, but when Seth did it, the gesture didn’t seem improper at all.

  He motioned for her to sit and then sat next to her. “Miriam, I need to apologize for what I said at the auction and then at your house. I hurt your feelings, and I wish I could uns
ay every word.”

  “But you meant what you said, didn’t you?”

  “I never should have said any of it.”

  “But isn’t it how you feel?”

  He fixed his gaze beyond her left shoulder. “I want to take it back.”

  A short burst of laughter escaped her lips.

  “What?”

  “I like watching you try to dance around this,” Miriam said. “You meant every word.”

  Seth laced his fingers together and rested his elbows on his knees. “But I still shouldn’t have said it.”

  “I am sorry for behaving in a way that upset you. I have thought about what you said, but I am at a loss to know what I can do differently. I sincerely want to be better.”

  He stared into her eyes for an eternity, as if he really were trying to read her mind. “You really do?”

  “Of course. The last thing I want to do is turn a blind eye to my own weaknesses.”

  He stood up and put some distance between them. “Most people do a good job of pretending they don’t have weaknesses. I am a good example of that. I should never have criticized you.”

  She nodded in satisfaction. “At least you admit you are partly to blame for the fact that we hate each other.”

  “Hate each other?” He looked troubled. “I hope not.”

  Miriam gave him a teasing grin. “Oh, so you do care what I think about you?”

  He relaxed his stiff posture—as much as she could expect from someone as somber as Seth Lambright. “You will never know. You cannot read minds.”

  Miriam wished she could read Seth’s mind. She was dying to know what Seth had told the clerk the other day at the drugstore to persuade her to take Miriam’s money. But that question would take them too close to Susie’s difficulty. She could not bring herself to ask, even to express her gratitude for what he had done.

  She stood up. “Can I come back next week to look at my horse?”

  “Jah, but you have not told me yet which one you want.”

  “When they are a little older, I want to come play with them. Then I will decide.”

  “Play with them? Like puppies?”

  “Jah, like puppies.”

  Seth walked with her around the stable to Daisy. “I will take gute care of both of them until you return.”

  Miriam turned to see two girls walking up the lane. Seth’s sisters. Laura, the older one, was about Yost’s age, and Priscilla was probably six. Priscilla’s feet were bare, and she cuddled a plastic doll in her arms.

  Miriam’s face warmed when she remembered that her last heated exchange with Seth was when Laura’s name had been mentioned.

  “Seth!” Still grasping her doll, Priscilla ran into her brother’s arms.

  Miriam’s heart swelled when Seth gathered Priscilla into a hug, swung her around, and planted a big kiss on her cheek.

  He brought her back to earth and turned his face to Miriam. “You know my sisters, jah?”

  Laura didn’t smile but nodded in Miriam’s direction. Miriam tried to swallow her guilt and nodded back. She barely knew either of Seth’s sisters even though they were in her district. Laura attended gmay, but Miriam realized in dismay that she usually avoided the Lambright family at church. And Laura never came to gatherings. She had her own Englisch friends from the high school.

  “I lost a tooth in school today,” Priscilla said as she transferred her doll to one hand and fished inside her apron pocket. She produced the tooth then smiled wide to display the small gap in front.

  “Very nice,” Seth said. “Lose a few more, and you won’t be able to chew.”

  “Tomorrow is the last day of school,” Priscilla said. “I am supposed to bring twenty cookies, and Laura said she would help me make them tonight. And you are coming to my program, okay?”

  “I would not dream of missing your program. Let me hear what you are going to recite,” Seth said.

  “Nae, it is a surprise.”

  Miriam felt a bit ashamed at how little she knew about Seth’s sisters. Had she disregarded them as easily as Seth said she had? The thought would not quit nagging at her. She could start remedying that situation right now. “Are you still going to the high school, Laura?”

  Laura put an arm around Priscilla and studied Miriam with unguarded suspicion. “Yes, I graduate next week.”

  “Oh, that is nice,” Miriam said.

  Poor family, to have a daughter jump the fence. Thank goodness Miriam’s family was firmly planted in the community and wouldn’t dream of embracing the Englisch ways.

  The train of Miriam’s thoughts ran merrily down the path they always had until she stopped and examined where her notions were taking her.

  Seth was right.

  She had always felt superior to the Lambrights.

  She, who had a sister with a horrible secret, found it easy to judge Seth for his very public misfortunes.

  “Laura is going to the University of Wisconsin this fall, Lord willing.” Seth obviously didn’t view Laura’s choices as shameful or wrong. He put an arm around his sister. “She got a scholarship.”

  Miriam found her voice and tried not to force her sincerity. “That is wonderful-gute. What subject will you be studying?”

  A smile bloomed on Laura’s face. Miriam wondered if anyone besides Seth ever cared to ask. “I am thinking about being a history teacher.”

  “I think I would be scared out of my wits to leave home like that. Are you excited?”

  “Oh yes. And a little scared. But one of my friends is going with me, and I hear they are very nice at the school.”

  “I’m sure you will do well,” Miriam said.

  Laura nodded gratefully. So did Seth.

  “Laura is going to help me make a blanket for Lady Dancing before she goes away to the unisity,” Priscilla said.

  Seth looked at Miriam. “Scilla calls her doll ‘Lady Dancing.’”

  “We will just cut a square out of a piece of fabric,” Laura said. “I do not know how to make a proper quilt.”

  Miriam held out her hand and Priscilla placed her doll into Miriam’s care. “What kind of a blanket do you want for Lady Dancing?”

  “Like a patch quilt,” Priscilla said. “I have fabric of my mamm’s.”

  “I can help you make one,” Miriam said.

  Seth raised an eyebrow.

  Laura did too. “Oh, you don’t have to do that. It is only a doll blanket.”

  “But I want to help. That is, if you’d like me to. I can see that Lady Dancing is a special doll. She deserves a special blanket.”

  “Okay,” Laura said. “You make beautiful quilts. It will probably be the fanciest doll blanket in the world.”

  Fancy. Ephraim didn’t like fancy.

  Miriam cleared her throat. “Not too fancy, of course. Tomorrow is the school program and Saturday is full of chores. Would you like to come to my house on Tuesday next?” She glanced at Seth. “Or, better yet, I could come to your house. Do you have a sewing machine?”

  Priscilla nodded and showed all the teeth that were still in her mouth. “Can it be pink? Lady Dancing loves pink.”

  “You and Laura find the fabric you want to use.”

  “Okay,” Priscilla said.

  Laura took Priscilla’s hand. “We want to say hello to the horses.”

  Laura and Priscilla walked behind the stable and left Seth staring at Miriam with an unreadable expression on his face. He frowned slightly but his gray eyes glowed with an unexplained warmth.

  He loosened her rope from the hook and handed it to her. “Denki,” he said. “If you are kind to my sisters, I am your friend for life.”

  “Does that mean you might decide you like me after all?”

  He rubbed his chin. “Jah, I might decide I like you.”

  Miriam swung her leg over the horse and perched squarely in the saddle. “Too bad, because I don’t care if you like me or not.”

  As she turned Daisy down the lane toward the green pastures and cheerful
yellow wildflowers, she heard Seth Lambright chuckle for the first time ever.

  Chapter 8

  “Denki, Yost. When will you be back to get me?”

  Miriam jumped from the buggy with her sewing basket in hand.

  Yost fingered the reins impatiently. “Can you walk home? I have places I need to be.”

  Miriam frowned and squinted in Yost’s direction. “Where do you have to go that is so important? You don’t work today. Being with your friends does not count.”

  “Maybe I’m earning some extra money for a car,” Yost said. “What do you think about that, Miss High-and-Mighty?”

  She shook her finger at him. “That a silly idea has crawled into that empty head of yours and taken up residence. Come fetch me at two o’clock.”

  Yost jiggled the buggy reins and the horse started forward. “Walk home. I won’t be back to get you.”

  “But…”

  Yost snapped the reins and the buggy was a hundred feet down the road before Miriam could argue. She huffed in exasperation and hoped that brother of hers would come to his senses before two o’clock.

  Not likely.

  In front of the Lambrights’ house, young grapevines grew up a trellis that formed a fence at the edge of the grass. Later in the summer it would be heavy with grapes.

  Fourteen flagstones dotted the grass leading up to the Lambrights’ front door. Miriam remembered them well. When she and Susie and Mamm brought meals five years ago, Miriam would count the stones as she stepped on them. At the time, she’d found it fascinating that there were fourteen stones and she was fourteen years old.

  Her heart raced as she stepped onto the porch and knocked on the door. It surprised her how badly she wanted Seth and his sisters to like her, to think she was a good person. And when she was this anxious about pleasing someone, she usually messed up terribly, like at the stable when Seth told her she was trying too hard.

  But he’d smiled when he said it.

  A dog yipped incessantly inside the house as Miriam heard the patter of little feet. Priscilla opened the door, and a miniature white ball of wire and porcupine quills darted out of the house and barked around Miriam’s ankles.

  “Pookie, be quiet,” scolded Priscilla. “Pookie…be nice.”