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

Home > Christian > Miriam’s Quilt (Forever after in apple lake™) > Page 29
Miriam’s Quilt (Forever after in apple lake™) Page 29

by Jennifer Beckstrand

But he knew! He knew how important riding was to her. He knew that if she couldn’t ride, she’d wither up like a houseplant that never got watered.

  How could he have done such a thing? And without even telling her?

  Miriam forced herself to breathe. She knew why.

  He’d suggested selling the horse once and had met too much resistance. So he decided to count on being forgiven. It had worked with the quilt. She had given him no reason to believe it wouldn’t work with the filly.

  Ephraim had sold her horse.

  Of course he had. She should only have been surprised that it had taken him so long.

  Stunned, Miriam waved her hand in Alvin’s direction and mumbled something incoherent. Alvin must have been satisfied with her response, because he picked up his pitchfork and went back to work.

  Miriam stumbled to a renegade hay bale next to one of the stalls, sat down, and surrendered to the truth. Ever since she’d gotten back together with Ephraim, there wasn’t a day when she hadn’t felt angry, hurt, or confused. Now she simply felt numb, exhausted by the struggle within herself and too weary to do anything about it.

  She thought of her filly and of her burgundy-and-tan Nine-Patch quilt. She thought of Ephraim’s boyish grin and playful laugh. All were lost to her.

  Since she’d turned ten years old, her life had revolved around Ephraim. That was why, when he rejected her, she felt as cold and hollow as an empty silo in January. She hadn’t really known herself separate from him.

  Today she did.

  In a flash of insight, she saw so clearly that the truth almost blinded her. She had been in love with the idea of marrying the minister’s son, the handsomest, most desirable young man in the district, rather than actually being in love with Ephraim himself. Why had she not realized long before now?

  Just in time, she saw how Ephraim used his piety as a way to get what he wanted. She had relied on his superior knowledge of the Bible and the Ordnung when they made a decision or had a disagreement. Searching her memories over the years, Miriam could only remember a handful of times they had disagreed. Ephraim, without fail, got his way. She always let him have his way.

  She wanted to fall to her knees right there in the stable and thank the good Lord for what she once thought were her darkest days after Ephraim rejected her. His absence had given her a chance to understand herself, to be Miriam Bontrager instead of Ephraim Neuenschwander’s intended.

  It had taken humble, gentle Seth to teach her a better way. Miriam raised a hand to her heart. The thought of him stole her breath. She hadn’t appreciated what he did for her. He always asked her opinion, didn’t force his wishes on her, never told her what to do…. And when he disagreed with her, he told her, with plain honesty and complete trust. His confidence gave birth to faith in herself and the ability to hear her own voice instead of being Ephraim’s echo.

  Sitting on her bale of hay, staring at the empty stall where her filly used to be, Miriam pictured a future without Ephraim. The prospect frightened her momentarily before her pulse danced with breathless excitement.

  She didn’t need Ephraim. She didn’t want Ephraim. The feeling intensified with every beat of her heart.

  Unable to remain still, Miriam jumped up from the hay bale. She had to tell him, to finally set herself free. Would he even care? Of course he would care. How would he increase his income without selling off all her worldly possessions?

  Miriam let those unworthy thoughts die a welcome death. Shame on her for letting bitterness ooze into her heart. Ephraim only did what he did because he didn’t know better, and she had indulged him.

  Ephraim would be hurt, but she hoped he would come to see that they were not meant for each other. She could never make him happy, and he would make her miserable.

  Miriam led Daisy out of the stable. The old horse would probably appreciate the warmth of a trot on a cold day. She loosened her hold on the reins and let Daisy go as fast as she wanted. Even an old horse needed to feel the wind through her mane occasionally.

  It was almost dinnertime. Ephraim would be at the warehouse, loading pallets and helping customers with last-minute Christmas needs. She turned Daisy toward Apple Lake.

  The Neuenschwanders’ warehouse stood on the outskirts of the two-street town. They dealt mostly with wood and building supplies along with some plumbing fixtures specifically for the Amish. Miriam remembered the last time she went there and the way Ephraim regarded her as if she were a five-year-old throwing a tantrum. She shook her head. How had she been so blind to Ephraim’s treatment of her?

  Today she strode through the door, her anticipation mingled with raw dismay at having to face him. She wanted to be charitable but feared her anger would conquer her better impulses.

  Please, dear Heavenly Father, she prayed, help me show love.

  Amanda sat at her desk, which consisted of a smooth countertop propped on top of two sturdy shipping boxes.

  Miriam walked toward the warehouse door. “Is Ephraim here?”

  “Jah, in the back.”

  Miriam strolled into the warehouse, surprised at her own calm. Was it the calm before or after the storm? She followed the boisterous voices until she found Freeman and Ephraim in the middle of one of the aisles, opening boxes. They both looked up as she came into view.

  Freeman took one look at her face and showed all his teeth when he smiled. “Oh, you are in trouble now, brother.”

  Ephraim didn’t seem so sure of himself. His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes as he spoke. “How is my favorite girl in the world?”

  “Can we talk?” she said.

  If it were possible, Freeman’s smile grew wider. “I told you she’d be mad.”

  Miriam found it irritating that Freeman knew more about her life than she did, but she let the annoyance slide off her like mud off a greased pig.

  “Is there somewhere we can speak privately?”

  The corner of Ephraim’s lip turned down in exasperation. “Freeman, go.”

  “Is there somewhere else? I’d rather not have what I say echo for three blocks.”

  “Okay,” Ephraim said with long, drawn-out syllables. He motioned to a small office at the back of the building. As they walked he studied her face, as if trying to guess what she thought and how mad she really was.

  The office window framed a lovely scene outside with the snow piled in flowing drifts and a wood fence that stood guard at the Weavers’ orchards. The bare trees, piled precariously with new snow, pointed to the sky as if bidding Miriam to look up and not be afraid.

  Cardboard boxes lined one wall of the office and a long table stood on the other end, leaving enough room for Ephraim and Miriam to stand but little else. Miriam backed up to the window and put three or four feet between her and her one-time intended.

  As soon as Ephraim shut the door, he held up his hands in mock surrender. “I guess you found out about the filly.”

  She felt a hitch in her breathing as the pain of loss finally caught up to her. “Why would you sell her when you know how much she means to me?”

  He actually had the nerve to grin. “It’s easier to ask for forgiveness than for permission?”

  She pressed her lips together and stared at him.

  Ephraim rolled his eyes and gave her the look of exasperation he thought she deserved. “One of us had to be practical. My wife won’t be galloping all over Apple Lake on horseback. You’re the bishop’s daughter, for goodness’ sake. Besides, you won’t have time for such vanity when we marry.” Her expression must have told him he wasn’t gaining ground. “It will make you feel better when you find out how much I sold her for.”

  “I don’t care about the money.”

  “It will buy a lot of wood for a new house.” He huffed a sigh as if they were finished discussing the subject. “There is a piece of land a few hundred yards from Dat’s that we can build a house on. It could be finished before we marry. Isn’t that wonderful?”

  She hadn’t wanted the anger to broil insid
e her as it did. Taking several deep breaths, she willed her internal temperature to cool down. She turned and looked out the window and concentrated on the delicate snowflakes drifting to the ground. When she turned back to him, her calm exterior at least resembled what went on inside her. “Ephraim, I don’t want to marry you anymore.”

  He threw up his hands and scowled at her. “Don’t overreact, Miri. I shouldn’t have to persuade you. In time, you will see that what I did was best for our family. I am the head of the home and the wife must submit to her husband, not question him. Do you believe in the Bible, or don’t you?”

  Her self-control almost snapped, but she thought of Seth and his even, mild temper. “Thankfully, I am not your wife.” She wrapped her arms around her waist. “And I never will be.”

  “Now you are being childish.”

  “I mean what I say. I’ll not marry you.”

  Maybe it was because of the set of her mouth or the way the light reflected her eyes, but he finally seemed to grasp that she was in earnest. His eyes narrowed as he regarded her with utter disbelief. “After all I have done for you? You have a no-gute brother and a wicked sister. Your family is the gossip of the entire community, and I still took you back. Is this what you call gratitude?”

  “I am grateful to you, Ephraim. I’m grateful that when you sold my horse, I finally came to my senses and recognized the truth.”

  “The truth? What—what are you talking about?”

  “I do not love you.”

  That declaration knocked him speechless. Miriam stepped toward the door, and Ephraim actually reached out and grabbed her hand. He had never done that before. That proved enough to stop her in her tracks.

  “Don’t leave me. I love you.”

  She pulled her hand away. “Because my dat is bishop. My family might be wicked, but you still love the idea of marrying the bishop’s daughter. I am sick to think that it took me so long to realize.”

  “You think I can overlook your sister’s wickedness simply because your dat is bishop?” He paced to the window and back, three steps each way, and his voice rose with every word he uttered. “She cheapened herself in a cave, Miriam. I couldn’t be more disgusted. You think I am willing to put up with that girl for a sister-in-law merely because your dat is bishop?”

  Like nothing she had ever felt before, rage swirled inside her like a swarm of yellow jackets. How could she have ever loved this man?

  “You’ll not insult my sister. Susie is gute and kind and—”

  Could she have been more stunned if a freight train had plowed into her? She narrowed her eyes and stared at Ephraim in astonishment. “How did you know about the cave?”

  His eyes grew wide, and he backed away from her as if she were on fire.

  A distant memory nagged at Miriam. Susie’s tearful voice rang in her ears. “He said we were two souls who shared one heart.”

  Freeman had spoken those words to her not four weeks ago. “You and Ephraim are like two souls sharing one heart.”

  She looked at Ephraim in horror while she held on to the edge of the table behind her for support. “Freeman,” she whispered.

  Alarm leaped into Ephraim’s eyes.

  The ugly truth rushed her senses like an icy Arctic wind. The relationship between her and Ephraim had brought Susie and Freeman together often. Miriam had thought nothing of it because Freeman treated every girl the same—as if she were blessed that he even paid her any heed. Susie should have seen through his brag. Miriam’s stomach sank to her toes. She hadn’t seen through Ephraim. How could she expect more from guileless Susie?

  A thousand memories stampeded at once. The look between Freeman and Ephraim when Freeman mentioned the cave at Baker’s Lake. Susie’s dismay at seeing Freeman that day at the market. Ephraim’s relief that no one knew the father of Susie’s baby.

  “At least she will not pull someone else down with her,” he had said.

  She thought she might choke with an invisible hand at her throat. “You knew.”

  He lifted his chin defiantly and shook his head, glaring at her as if she were his worst enemy.

  Words could not express her contempt, but that didn’t stop her from trying. “You hypocrite. You cowardly, lying hypocrite.” Miriam knew such accusations were horrible and unChristlike, but she spit them out of her mouth like acrid poison.

  Ephraim’s nostrils flared and his face turned bright red. “I protected my brother. Freeman is sorry for it, but Susie bears the responsibility—for her willingness, for tempting him. Girls are the guardians of their own virtue.”

  To keep herself from slapping him hard across the face, Miriam clutched the table behind her until her fingers screamed in pain. She had never felt the scorching heat of rage before, and it frightened her. Fire could so easily burn out of control and consume everything.

  “Why did you not make him do his duty and marry her?”

  Ephraim wiped a hand across his mouth. “She is responsible for her own fall.”

  Miriam growled in frustration. How could he lie to himself like this?

  She closed her eyes and, by sheer force of will, pictured Susie and Hollow in her mind. She saw Hollow clasping Susie’s hand when he told their dat he wanted to marry her. She saw them on their wedding day, so young, so hopeful. She saw Hollow lovingly wrap a blanket around Freeman’s daughter to protect her from the cold.

  Miriam quietly stepped to the window and rested her flushed face against the cold glass. It would have been worse, much worse, if Freeman had been forced to marry Susie. Miriam would not in a million years wish for her dear sister to be shackled to him for life. Susie would have been irredeemably unhappy. The fire in her heart cooled to glowing embers. “All things work together for good to them that love God.” All these months, Miriam had been praying for the fater to step forward for Susie’s sake, when God had another, better plan in mind.

  Miriam rejoiced that Someone far wiser than she ran the universe.

  After a few moments of suspenseful silence, she met Ephraim’s eyes and regarded him with compassion. He hadn’t known how else to protect his brother and his family’s name. His reputation was more important to him than even Miriam was. She felt sorry for him.

  He looked like a boy who’d been caught smoking in the barn. “You won’t tell? No good would come of it for us.”

  “Or Susie.”

  He let a sigh of relief escape his lips and moved close to her. “It is better this way.”

  She nodded, relaxing her expression into a mournful smile.

  “I don’t love you just because you’re the bishop’s daughter,” he murmured.

  Be that as it may, she knew she couldn’t love him, any more than Seth could love Ellie’s dog, Pookie.

  “May the gute Lord be with you,” she said, sticking out her hand to shake with Ephraim.

  He kept his arms to his side, fists clenched with white knuckles. She lowered her hand, gave him a parting look, and walked out of the office. Her footsteps echoed off the high ceiling as she trudged through the warehouse. Freeman leaned against the front counter visiting with Amanda. He flashed a happy-go-lucky grin as she passed him. “See you tomorrow.”

  For a moment, indignation simmered in her heart, but she pushed it down and let it keep. Susie was happy now. In time, they both would be able to forgive him and learn to pity a boy who would not bridle his passions.

  She lifted the corners of her lips slightly. “Nae, you won’t. Goodbye, Freeman.”

  When she crossed the threshold onto the street, relief soaked her like a spring downpour. After years of planning on Ephraim, after years of believing she loved him, to finally let him go was the most liberating feeling she’d ever known. She exhaled every bad feeling lodged in her heart. The breath turned into a sigh. The sigh became a shout from deep in her soul. Her voice rang through the crisp air and soared to the sky as she threw out her hands and twirled in the empty snow-covered street. Daisy twitched her ears and nodded in Miriam’s direction.
/>
  Miriam held the reins and ran her hand along Daisy’s neck. The filly was lost to her, and Daisy was old. What would she do when she could not ride Daisy anymore? Did Seth still own the colt?

  Without warning, thoughts of Seth rushed into the empty place in her heart and almost knocked her over. She felt as if she were falling from a tall building as her stomach rose to her throat and then her new, bright world crashed at her feet.

  How could she have been so blind?

  As sure as the sun would peek over the trees on a bright summer morning, she loved Seth Lambright. Why had she not noticed the way he crept into her thoughts and set up a permanent camp in her heart? A thrill of anticipation traveled up her spine. She loved him!

  She loved his expression when he was deep in thought, mulling over her problems as if they were his own, gifting her with wisdom and solace. She cherished his rare smile and the way he guarded his heart from grief. She saw the boy—frightened, vulnerable, determined—who had grown into a man who wanted to fix everybody and everything, to make the whole world happy and just and right. And full of love.

  Her struggles with Ephraim had torn her heart from its true home. Could she ever hope to return?

  “I think I love you.”

  He’d tried to tell her.

  He loved her once. Had he given up on her?

  The oppressive sadness returned as abruptly as it had left her.

  Seth had sent the filly to Matthew Eicher’s stables so he wouldn’t be forced to see Miriam. Even when they were together, he might as well have been a stranger. He didn’t even want to be her friend.

  Laura had returned his quilt without his knowledge, but in the end, he didn’t want it back.

  If you reject the gift, you reject the giver.

  Standing next to Daisy, Miriam leaned her forehead against the saddle. She had lost what she really wanted in pursuit of an illusion. An hour ago, she believed she couldn’t feel any lower. Now she had fallen into a hole so deep there was no light at the bottom.

  Tears trickled down her face. She willed herself to restrain them, to keep them in check while she stood in the middle of the street where anyone could see her. Ephraim would scold her for her pathetic childishness. Seth would put an arm around her and take her home.

 

‹ Prev