Plain Proposal

by Beth Wiseman

  He crawled into his buggy and headed toward the creek. He’d left Ruben and James an unfair amount of chores to do, but he’d make it up to them next weekend. Today he needed to be around friends, and he knew they would be gathered at Pequea Creek, like they always were on Saturday afternoons.

  He’d barely turned onto Blackhorse Road when he saw Miriam drive by going the other direction. She waved but didn’t even look his way. Don’t turn around. Keep going. He gritted his teeth and managed to keep going for about a hundred yards before he grunted to himself and turned the buggy around. He picked up the pace until he was close to catching up with her. She eventually slowed to a stop, and he pulled up beside her.

  “Are you following me?” She turned her head to face him, without even the hint of a smile on her face.

  “Ya. I am. We need to talk, Miriam. Where are you off to?”

  She raised her chin. “Nowhere. I’m just riding around. It’s a nice day.”

  “Let’s take your buggy back to your house, then you can ride with me to the creek. We can talk on the way.” Saul waited a moment, then added, “Please.”

  She shifted in her seat and faced him from her buggy. “I don’t know what we have to talk about, Saul. I misunderstood something, and now I feel. . . embarrassed.”

  Saul wanted to get out and go to her, but he didn’t have anywhere to tie up his horse. “I don’t think you really misunderstood. It’s complicated, Miriam.”

  “It doesn’t have to be,” she said in the sweetest voice Saul had ever heard.

  “Then, please, let’s talk. I have some things I want to say to you.” He knew she couldn’t go with him. They’d barely started seeing each other. Then why did it seem like he’d been with Miriam his entire life? In some ways, he figured he had. His heart had belonged to her since they were young. In addition to his attraction to her, he also found that her goodness offset the trouble he often found himself in, and she made him want to be a better person. His thoughts conflicted, he wasn’t sure what he would say to her, but he couldn’t stand to have her mad at him or not understand how he felt about her.

  “Okay,” she finally said.

  She turned her horse around, and Saul followed her back to her house.

  Rebecca hung little John’s bedsheets out to dry. Her youngest still wet the bed every now and then, despite her many attempts to curb his late-night liquids and make sure he went to the bathroom before bedtime. She jumped when Aaron wrapped his arms around her from behind and nuzzled her neck.

  “Aaron, what are you doing?” She pinned up the corner of the white sheet, squinting from the sun’s glare. “I thought you were at Abe’s putting up a fence?”

  “That’s what I have sohns for,” he teased as he kissed her on the neck.

  “You smell of work, so you must have been busy doing something.” She clipped the last of the sheet on the line, then spun around to face her husband.

  “We finished the fence, so the boys stayed to play volleyball, and I decided to come home and spend some alone time with mei fraa.” He pulled her close. “I know Shelby is gone. Is Miriam here?” Frowning, he glanced around.

  “No. She took the spring buggy and went for a drive. It’s just us, Aaron.” She pushed him away. “But I have chores to do.”

  Aaron grabbed her shoulders and drew her to him again. “I think we best seize this moment, Rebecca.” He looked up at the sky and squinted. “It’s the middle of the day, and no one is at home.” He smiled broadly.

  “Shame on you, Aaron Raber. Such thoughts from a man your age in the middle of the afternoon.”

  Her husband of twenty years leaned in and kissed her with the same passion as when they were teenagers, and taking a nap didn’t sound like such a bad idea. Next thing she knew, Aaron scooped her into his arms and started walking toward the house. “Why, Aaron. . .” She batted her eyes at him.

  “Nap time, mei leib.”

  “Don’t drop me going up these porch steps.”

  Aaron didn’t get up the first step when they heard the clippety-clop of hooves on the driveway. “Goodness! Put me down before someone sees!”

  “It’s Miriam.” Aaron set her on the ground.

  “She just left. I wonder what she’s doing home so early.” Rebecca held her hand to her forehead and strained to see. “Someone’s behind her. I hope nothing’s wrong.” She moved across the yard until the second buggy came into view. “Oh no.” She sighed. “It’s Saul Fisher,” she whispered to Aaron.

  “Ach, Rebecca. . .” Aaron shook his head.

  “Don’t ‘ach, Rebecca’ me.” She stood tall. “This won’t be gut. I’m sure of it.” She folded her arms across her chest and waited. Miriam tied the horse to the stump by the fence, then she waited for Saul to follow her into the yard.

  “Mamm, Daed, I’m going to go with Saul to the creek, if that’s all right.” Miriam’s eyes pleaded with hers, but Rebecca knew this was a terrible dilemma. She’d allowed her to go on a drive, and she could have just as easily met Saul at the creek, so how could she deny this request? Her mind worked doubly hard to think of a way.

  “I don’t know, Miriam. I mean—”

  “Of course you can go, mei dochder. You go and have a gut time.” Aaron stroked his beard, and Rebecca could have punched him.

  Saul walked forward and nodded to Rebecca, then extended his hand to Aaron. “Danki, sir. I’ll have her home well before the supper hour.”

  A smiled tipped the corner of Aaron’s mouth as he glanced at Rebecca, then back at Saul. “That sounds mighty fine, Saul.”

  “Danki, Daed. I just have to go put the horse in the barn.” Miriam turned to go back to the buggy.

  “You kinner run along. I’ll take care of that.” Aaron waved his arm for them to go.

  “Danki,” Saul said as he and Miriam made their way to Saul’s buggy.

  Aaron waited until they had turned the corner before he attempted to scoop Rebecca back into his arms. Kicking, she fell out of his arms, almost all the way to the ground. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  “Taking up where we left off.” He winked. “Nap time, remember?”

  “I am no longer tired!”

  She marched into the house and slammed the door.

  “Did you see the look on your mamm’s face?” Saul said as he got his horse into a steady trot. He shook his head. “I don’t think she cares for you spending time with me.”

  Miriam was quite sure her mother didn’t approve of her seeing Saul. “Mamm’s heard the rumors that you might be leaving the community.”

  Saul turned at the next gravel side road.

  “This isn’t the way to the creek.”

  “I know.” He pulled the buggy to the side of the road, no houses visible, only a few cows grazing to their left. “We can talk here.”

  Miriam’s heart started to pound. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear what he had to say. He twisted in his seat to face her, drew in a deep breath, and then let it out slowly.

  “Like I told you, I got this job offer, and I wasn’t going to get baptized this fall. I’d made up my mind about that, but I started to change my mind because—because of Ruben and James. I wasn’t sure if I should leave them.”

  Miriam could feel her face turning pinker by the moment. “Saul, we really don’t need to talk about this. I understand.”

  “No. I don’t think you do.” He reached for her hand, and visions of him kissing her flashed through her mind. He intertwined their fingers, locking his eyes with hers. “I think I’ve always been in lieb with you, Miriam. . . since we were young kinner. That may sound crazy, but it’s true.”

  Doesn’t sound crazy to me. She held her breath as her heart danced.

  “But, Miriam, every man in this community wants to be with you, and I never once considered that you might feel the way I always have.”

  Miriam held up one finger. “That’s not true, Saul. We’ve watched each other and flirted for years. You had to have known I felt something
too.”

  “Ya, ya. I thought you liked me well enough, but I never felt like I was gut enough for you, Miriam. And I can’t give you what you want—a life here. I feel pulled to go do something else, and I want this job and the freedom to explore the world outside of our community. But since you told me you’d go with me, I can’t stop picturing us together now.” He pulled his eyes from her and sighed. “And I can’t let you leave here.”

  Miriam was still reeling over the fact that he’d said he’d loved her for a long time. But now that the reality was set before her, it frightened her. She didn’t know anything about the world outside of their district. In her fantasies, this was the time when she would tell him how much she loved him and vow to follow him anywhere. Instead, she sat speechless.

  “Anyway, I didn’t want you to think that I didn’t care about you, or think about you going with me, because it’s keeping me up at night now.” Saul looked up and stared deeply into her eyes. “I love you, Miriam. I always have.”

  Miriam bit her lip as she blinked back tears. No matter their future, she couldn’t let him not know how she felt too. “I love you too, Saul.”

  He let go of her hand, then pulled her into his arms. “It would be so unfair to ask you to come with me,” he whispered.

  Miriam felt like she couldn’t breathe. Why does he keep saying that? Was he waiting for her to offer to go with him again? Being with Saul was all she’d dreamed about, but visions of her family kept popping into her mind. Could she really leave them and become part of a world that was foreign to her? Or could she stay here around all that was familiar—and not have Saul?

  He eased away from her, cupped her cheek, then kissed her in a way that solidified her decision.

  “I want to go with you, Saul. I’ll go anywhere with you.”

  He smiled. “I can’t ask you to do that, but I won’t insist you stay. Are you sure? Is it really what you want, Miriam, to be with me as much as I want to be with you?”

  Miriam felt herself trembling, unsure how much of it was from his kiss, the feel of his arms around her, or the fear of speaking the words she’d always dreamed about. She tried to calm her beating heart and prayed she was doing the right thing.

  “Ya. I want to go with you.”

  12

  MIRIAM SAT AT THE CREEK’S EDGE WITH LEAH AND Hannah and watched as Saul edged onto the diving rock and prepared to jump. She heard Saul’s friends cheering him to jump, and his eyes met with hers right before he hit the water, like they’d done so many times before. But after their talk on the way to the creek, she knew things were different now. She felt a wave of excitement and confusion rush through her as she watched his head pop out of the water, searching until he found her.

  “How are you doing, Miriam?” Leah asked. “We haven’t seen you since your onkel’s funeral.”

  “I’m fine.” She hung her head for a moment but quickly looked back up.

  “I like your cousin Shelby. I was sorry to meet her at such a sad time,” Hannah said. “She seems sweet, though.”

  “She is,” Miriam said, then for reasons she couldn’t explain, she envisioned Shelby and Jesse alone together fishing at the Zook farm. Am I doing the right thing by leaving with Saul? It was all she’d ever wanted, to be with Saul. What would she do in the outside world? Would she work at a job outside the home? How often would she see her family? Would they join a church in the city?

  Why haven’t I thought of these things before?

  “So tell us, Miriam. . . Last time we were here, you went to go talk to Saul. How did that go?” Leah nudged Hannah. “It must have gone gut, since he brought you here today.”

  Miriam smiled as she thought about the way Saul kissed her, and momentarily her worries drifted to the back of her mind where she hoped they would stay. “Ya, we’re dating.”

  Hannah pressed her lips firmly together for a moment. “Be careful, Miriam. I don’t think Saul is the settling-down type, and I still keep hearing that he might not be baptized in the fall. Some say he won’t stay here.”

  “He’s the settling-down type,” Miriam said smugly.

  Leah leaned across Hannah again. “I don’t know.” She giggled. “But he sure is handsome, and I sure do like watching him jump.” Miriam knew jealousy was a sin, but it reared its ugly head just the same. “He asked me to leave here with him.”

  “Who?” Hannah asked.

  “Saul.”

  Hannah’s mouth fell open, then she exchanged looks with Leah. When she turned back to Miriam, her forehead was creased with concern. “Of course you told him no, right?”

  Miriam drew in a calming breath as she sat up taller. “I’m going with him. He has a job offer at a restaurant in Pittsburgh.”

  Leah was now practically in Hannah’s lap as she leaned inward to hear Miriam.

  “How did he propose? Tell us the details.” Hannah nudged Leah out of her lap. “This happened so fast. I can’t believe you’ll be leaving here. What did your parents say?”

  As the questions slammed into Miriam faster and harder, she tried to gather her thoughts. And the first realization that hit her was—He asked me to go with him, but he didn’t ask me to marry him. What does that mean?

  Then she pondered some more. No, he didn’t ask her to go with him. She volunteered. “I haven’t told Mamm and Daed yet.”

  Hannah brought her hand to her mouth to stifle a gasp, and Leah’s eyes got round as saucers.

  “I’m going to tell them soon.”

  “Will you be married here before you go?”

  “I—I don’t know.” Miriam stood up. “I have to go.” She didn’t look back as she hurried toward Saul’s buggy, even though she heard Hannah call her name. Choking back tears, she squatted next to the buggy, out of view of everyone. She was breathing much too hard, and her hands were trembling.

  “Miriam?” Saul squatted down beside her in the grass a few moments later. She didn’t hear him walk up, and she felt ridiculous. He put his hand on her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

  She forced herself to stand up. “I’m sorry to cut your time short with your friends, but I’m not feeling well.”

  “No problem.” He helped her into the buggy, then went around to the other side. Within a few minutes he had them back on the road toward home. “Maybe you got too hot. Do you want me to stop at that little store when we get into town and get you something cold to drink?”

  She shook her head. “No, I’ll be okay.”

  They rode quietly for a while, and Miriam knew she wouldn’t sleep tonight unless she asked Saul a few questions. “Do you think I’ll have a job in Pittsburgh?”

  “Do you want to work?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe.” They were quiet again, then she asked, “How often do you think we will see our families?”

  “Pittsburgh isn’t that far.” He paused. “You’re having second thoughts, aren’t you?” Saul slowed the buggy to cross Lincoln Highway, then picked up speed when they turned onto Black Horse Road.

  “Saul, I—I. . . Can you stop the buggy?”

  Instantly Saul pulled back on the reins, then pulled off on the first gravel road he could. He turned to face her. “You haven’t really thought this through, have you?” He searched her eyes. “I love you, Miriam. And I can picture our life together. But I would never, ever push you into leaving here. You have to be sure, Miriam.”

  “When would we go?”

  “The end of August.”

  “That’s only a month away.” She heard the alarm in her voice. Saul reached up and touched her cheek.

  “Sweet Miriam.” He blinked a few times. “I think this is happening too fast for you.” He pulled her into his arms and cupped the nape of her neck, and she rested her head against his chest. His heart was beating fast, and she wondered if he was having second thoughts. “I want you to be happy, whatever that is for you. I won’t deny that I want you to make this journey with me, but you have to be sure.” He lifted her face and kissed her gently on
the lips. “I love you.”

  “How do you know that, Saul? We’ve barely spent any time together.” It seemed odd to be asking him the question when she didn’t have any doubts about how she felt about him. Only fears about this life-changing situation.

  Saul was quiet for a few moments, then said, “Maybe I should be asking you the same thing.” Before she could respond, he continued, “Do you remember the day at the creek when Lizzie Petersheim brought her sister, Annie?”

  Miriam thought back. Little Annie had Down syndrome, but she’d died last year. “That was a few years ago, but ya, I remember. Why?”

  “Everyone was occupied, even Lizzie, that day. Annie kept coughing, and she had all kinds of. . . stuff. . . dripping from her nose. I watched you that day. You cleaned Annie up, and you kept her by your side the rest of the time.”

  Miriam barely remembered that day. “Saul, anyone would have done that.”

  “Barbie Beiler fell and broke her leg. Remember that?”

  “Ya.”

  “You went over there every day and helped her run her bed-and-breakfast.”

  Miriam shook her head. “Saul, these are things anyone in our community would have done.”

  “But they didn’t, Miriam. You did. And depending on how much time you’ve got, I can give you a dozen more reasons why I’ve grown to love you over the years.” He shifted his eyes away from her. “You make me want to be a better person.”

  “Saul...” She reached up and touched his cheek until he turned to face her. “I think you’re a wonderful person, and sometimes the way you help others is a bit different, perhaps more adventuresome than our ways. . . but I’ve watched you for years too. And your zestful spirit is one of the things that I love.”

  Saul leaned in and kissed her gently. “I want to spend the rest of my life getting to know everything about you. And I know this is happening fast, but I’m sure that I love you, and I’m sure that I want to be with you always. I know that we would have to throw a wedding together really fast, and—”

  Miriam’s eyes widened as she put some distance between them. “A wedding?”