Miriam and the Stranger

by Jerry S. Eicher

  Across the room Bishop Miller finally looked up and ventured a smile. “The Lord be praised again this morning.”

  “Amen,” they responded in unison.

  “My old body grows weary,” Bishop Miller continued, “but the spirit is ever quickened again in the work of the Lord.”

  “Yah, it is,” they all murmured.

  “I hope we still have unity about this matter of the ordination.” Bishop Miller launched right in. “I can’t say I approve fully of how you’re doing this, but I give way. After all, I’m getting old and can’t keep up with the newfangled ways you young people have.” Bishop Miller coughed, followed by a strangled laugh.

  Each of them glanced at the other, and as the oldest, Minister Kemp spoke first. “Forgive us, Bishop, if we have taken up newfangled ways, but we all thought this had been done before—choosing a bishop from the three of us and ordaining another minister when things have settled down after a year or so. It seemed to us more disruptive to ordain another minister first and wait another year before we have our own bishop. I mean, we’ve already imposed on you enough.”

  “True,” Bishop Miller grinned. “I can see the point. I know it has been done before. I was only teasing.”

  They all chuckled and Mose relaxed. Bishop Miller was in a gut mood this morning, so the questions for him would be light. And the other two had better be careful how difficult they made things for him. It wasn’t too late to change his mind and object to this plan. In that case they would ordain a minister in two weeks instead of a bishop. This would cut Deacon Yoder from consideration a year later when a bishop was ordained. As part of this compromise, they had agreed to include the deacon as a candidate. The inclusion was quite an honor for Deacon Yoder. If they waited a year, Minister Kemp and he would make sure the deacon wouldn’t be eligible for the lot. That was the normal practice among the Amish communities. In the meantime the odds of the draw wouldn’t increase or decrease for himself.

  Bishop Miller coughed into his handkerchief. “Let us proceed then. But first, has anything new come up that needs our attention? Perhaps some Ordnung breaker has been plowing in the fields with his Englisha neighbor’s tractor?” Bishop Miller laughed at his own joke but soon sobered. “I hear Mose is fixing to get himself a new frau. Perhaps we had best hear about that matter…”

  The other two nodded, but they didn’t look at Mose. Mose began at once. Maybe if he spoke quickly this would go away. “I had a gut trip out to Oklahoma,” he said, “and I spoke at length with Bishop Mullet about his member, Miriam Yoder.”

  Mose felt his neck burn a little. There was no need for embarrassment, but Miriam’s name spoken right out in the open like this affected him. Miriam’s presence in the buggy beside him had the same effect, but that had been in private. He couldn’t imagine how it would feel to hold Miriam’s hand when they said the wedding vows or to have her cook meals for him in his house where Rachel used to stand. But he must not think such thoughts now. If he appeared embarrassed, the others would think he had something to hide.

  “I see.” Bishop Miller smiled. “I’m an old man, but I still can rejoice to see the younger ones find themselves a frau and marry. But did you have to travel that far? Don’t we have some gut-looking single women in this area?”

  They all chuckled and Mose joined in. “I suppose so,” Mose allowed, “but Miriam came highly recommended, and I had to investigate at the very least.”

  “I see,” Bishop Miller said, still smiling. “I don’t know the woman, so we will have to take your word for it or that of the ones who recommended this Miriam to you. Has she been married before?”

  “No, but that makes no difference to me,” Mose hastened to say. He hadn’t expected this line of questioning.

  “The ones who have been married before are safer sometimes.” Bishop Miller nodded wisely. “They’ve been tested and have demonstrated their walk well before the Lord and the community. In your case, perhaps that would have been a wiser option, considering the bishop ordination coming up. I suppose it makes no difference in votes either way, but if…” There was a long pause from the bishop. “Shall we say, if the lot is drawn by your hand, a proven frau would be the best choice.”

  “I suppose so,” Mose allowed. “But I…”

  Bishop Miller silenced him with a lift of his hand. “We don’t have to argue. No doubt this Miriam is a gut-looking woman, and you’ve fallen hard for her.”

  Mose didn’t join in the laughter this time. Bishop Miller had now made Minister Kemp’s questions easier, and this he also hadn’t expected. Had the bishop suffered a sleepless night after all?

  Minister Kemp rubbed his hands together when the bishop motioned that it was his turn to speak. “Perhaps Mose can tell us what details he found out concerning Miriam Yoder’s character. From the few questions I’ve asked, I understand she once was left a great sum of money by an Englisha man. I believe she used to work for the old fellow. Does she still have this sum of money? And if not, I’d like to know how she got rid of it. And beyond that, why was the woman given the money in the first place? That simply doesn’t happen to an Amish woman—at least it hasn’t in my lifetime. What do you say to these things, Mose?”

  Mose took a deep breath. Here the questions came, and he still wasn’t ready. But these were questions he would have asked if the tables were turned. Had he not asked them in Oklahoma? The answers were solid enough to him, but how could he explain Miriam’s character in a way that didn’t make matters worse? The reports given by Glen, and Miriam’s daett, and Bishop Mullet, and Deacon Phillips, and William and Fannie Yoder—the list was quite lengthy—they might be his best answer. He hadn’t been able to speak of how he felt while he rode beside Miriam in the buggy, or sat across the table from her at William and Fannie’s home, or noticed her gentle grace, or watched that soft rush of color that filled her face when he stared too long at her.

  “Is Mose tongue-tied about this?” Minister Kemp asked. “Surely he would not rush into something like this without the proper questions being asked?”

  “I did ask them!” Mose’s words came out in a rush. “From all the people involved! They all said not one word that cast a shadow upon Miriam’s character. I was told that Miriam spent hardly a dime of the money and gave the rest to a relief fund when the tornadoes hit the area some years ago. You remember that, don’t you?” Mose cast a quick appeal around the circle.

  Bishop Miller helped him out, “I think I do remember. And does Miriam say the same thing?”

  “Yah, she does,” Mose assured him, “and so does their Deacon Phillips. The man handled the check himself, he told me. Not a shadow could be cast on Miriam’s character over the matter.”

  “You could perhaps expect that,” Minister Kemp replied. “But why was she given the money in the first place?”

  Mose steadied himself and put on his sternest look. “Miriam worked for the Englisha man for more than three years under the strictest standards of conduct. He highly appreciated Miriam’s care. Glen Weaver told me this—the man who is to marry Miriam’s sister Shirley sometime this wedding season.”

  Minister Kemp snorted. “Nothing like family for getting a gut name.”

  Mose gave Minster Kemp a glare. “The Englisha man was an old man, and Miriam never stayed for overnight. That her family saw to. Miriam is reported by everyone who knows her to be an upstanding, decent, and honorable woman. Nor does Ivan Mast, whom she used to date, speak ill of her. We all know a woman’s character cannot be turned on and off like a spigot. So why was the money given? I don’t know, other than the Englisha man liked Miriam’s work. Is that a sin?”

  Bishop Miller gave a low grunt. “Let’s not be taking offense, Mose. The question was a fair one, and you would have asked the same thing, I’m thinking, if the shoe were on the other foot.”

  Minister Kemp appeared relieved and continued, “I have to remind you, Mose, that my sister Bethany is available. Her two small children need a daett, and that would
be the more responsible choice, I think. And we wouldn’t be having this conversation about her character either.”

  “Thanks for the offer,” Mose said, pasting on a smile. “But I think I’ll pass.”

  So that was Minister Kemp’s motivation, Mose thought. But it wouldn’t be proper to disparage Minister Kemp’s sister. They all knew Mose had the freedom to choose the frau he wanted.

  Bishop Miller grunted again and turned to Deacon Yoder. “So what about you, Deacon? Any questions?”

  Deacon Yoder waited a second before he said, “There is something. When do we all get to see this wunderbah woman?”

  Laughter filled the room, and Mose joined in. Thankfully, Deacon Yoder had defused the conversation.

  “I am glad you are getting a decent frau,” Bishop Miller added, once things had quieted down. “I’m sure you miss Rachel a lot. I know I would my frau, Millie, if she were to pass.”

  “Thank you,” Mose mumbled.

  He had passed the test, and nothing more would be said about the matter. The conversation continued around him as Mose’s thoughts centered on Miriam. In truth, Minister Kemp’s questions bothered him more than he wished to admit. Thinking of Miriam in tender conversation with an Englisha man, even an elderly one, bothered him. And those conversations would have occurred in the three years Miriam took care of the man. What if he had missed something? From a distance Miriam’s character seemed almost too perfect. Yet the whole Amish community in Oklahoma loved their teacher. Was that what blinded him? Or was he in love already? That he hadn’t planned on. With his second marriage, he had planned to fall in love after he said the vows with the woman. It seemed safer that way. But he hadn’t reckoned with Miriam Yoder.

  “I think it’s time we get back to the congregation.” Bishop Miller’s voice rang in Mose’s ear.

  He looked up and from the expressions of the others, the bishop must have spoken twice already.

  “Are you at least in unity with our plans, Mose?” Bishop Miller asked with a twinkle in his eye.

  He had no idea what those plans were, but there was only one correct answer. “Yah, I agree,” Mose said.

  “I thought so.” Bishop Miller got to his feet with a big grin on his face and the others followed.

  He would soon be the laughingstock of the community, Mose thought. One could always depend on a woman to reduce a man to such a state. That was exactly what wasn’t supposed to have happened to him.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Early on Tuesday evening Miriam drove her buggy into Deacon Phillips’s driveway. The schoolboard had suggested the visit to gain the deacon’s final approval on Miriam’s early departure date for Possum Valley. She had plenty of reasons for the request, Miriam reminded herself. Shirley and Mamm could use her help with the wedding preparations, and there was the bishop ordination in Mose’s district. That would probably bear more weight with Deacon Phillips than the wedding preparations, which was why she hadn’t asked for this extra time off before.

  Betsy had been all in a tizzy when Miriam had spoken with her again after the Sunday service. But Betsy’s eyes had also contained a gleam of excitement. “I might get to teach for two whole weeks!” Betsy had exclaimed.

  Miriam knew Betsy would do well once she got into the flow of things.

  Miriam slowed down to park in front of the hitching rack and climbed out to secure Star. Tyler’s continued presence in the community was the third reason she wanted to leave the area early, but she couldn’t say that in anyone’s presence. She hadn’t even told Aunt Fannie, who seemed oblivious to the attentions Tyler was paying her. But someone was sure to notice soon if they hadn’t already. Her deliberate absence for two weeks would speak well to her own opinion of the matter. How things had come to this state, Miriam couldn’t fathom. How had she even allowed an Englisha man to speak words to her the way Tyler had the other Sunday evening? And to have driven her home in her buggy? That the buggy ride was at her uncle and aunt’s insistence made little difference. She should have made a big fuss. At least she had survived the incident without a scandal, and since then Tyler had behaved himself. He was a constant presence in the community, though. The man even drove a different car now, which must mean he had dropped off the rental and purchased a vehicle of his own. Obviously Tyler didn’t plan to leave soon. No one else in the community had commented on the switch of automobiles, and Miriam wished she hadn’t noticed, but everything about Tyler made an impression on her.

  Miriam arrived at Deacon Phillips’s front door and knocked. She was greeted at once by Katie’s cheerful voice. “Come on in. You know our schoolteacher is always welcome.”

  “Gut evening.” Miriam returned the greeting and stepped inside. “I hope I’m not interrupting supper.”

  “Already finished,” Katie assured Miriam. “The girls are washing dishes in the kitchen.”

  “Gut to see you,” Deacon Phillips greeted, looking up from his Budget with a smile. “I hope you haven’t come to report trouble with that Mose of yours?”

  “Now, Phillip,” Katie scolded. “Miriam just got here.”

  Miriam blushed and dropped her gaze to the floor. Thankfully, Ruth stuck her head out of the kitchen doorway at that moment and chirped, “Hi, Miriam. We’re washing dishes in here.”

  “I should help,” Miriam said at once.

  “You will do no such thing,” Katie ordered. “You didn’t come to wash dishes.”

  “Yah,” Miriam allowed as she reached for a chair beside the stove and sat down.

  Deacon Phillips looked up again to regard her soberly this time. “Surely there’s nothing wrong at school,” he said.

  “No.” Miriam tried to laugh. “I need to ask your opinion on something. I cleared it with the schoolboard last night, but they thought I should also speak with you. Would it be okay if I took an extra week off from school for Shirley’s wedding so I can also take in the bishop ordination in Wayne County?”

  “Oh!” Deacon Phillips’s face lit up with interest. “That’s true. There is an ordination soon in Wayne County. Mose must have told you.”

  “Of course he did,” Katie interrupted. “Mose plans to wed Miriam.”

  Miriam quickly hung her head and looked away.

  Deacon Phillips chuckled. “I’d say that’s a great idea, Miriam, even if Mose doesn’t draw the lot. You’d spend some time with him and show the proper concern a future frau would have for her husband.”

  “Thank you.” Miriam still kept her head down.

  Deacon Phillips cleared his throat. “I know this is none of our business, so don’t tell me too much, but it does concern the school, so we should ask.”

  “Yah?” Miriam clutched the side of her chaira and waited.

  Deacon Phillips proceeded with caution. “There wouldn’t be a chance Mose plans to take you away from us before the school term is over this year?”

  Miriam allowed a smile to creep across her face. “No, I don’t think so. He…”

  Katie reached over to touch Miriam’s arm. “You don’t have to say more. We shouldn’t have asked this much, but we were worried. Mostly because we have no idea where we’d get another schoolteacher to replace you this year.” Katie laughed. “Or next year for that matter. At least we now have time to think about this and plan. And we all knew you wouldn’t last forever—that some man would soon be along to snatch you up.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Miriam responded. Katie’s praise was nice, but they both knew she had been well on her way to spinsterhood and could be thankful for any offer of marriage from an Amish man.

  Deacon Phillips chuckled. “Then it’s settled, and my mind is relieved.”

  Miriam jumped to her feet and declared, “And now I’m helping Ruth and the girls. I insist!”

  “As you wish,” Katie said with a laugh, and Miriam made her way into the kitchen. Ruth had soapsuds up to her elbows and a big grin on her face. Two of her younger sisters scurried around as they gathered up the last of the su
pper dishes and scraped them clean. The bucket of slop sat on a kitchen chair within reach of their small arms.

  “How about if I dry dishes for you?” Miriam asked.

  Ruth shooed both of her sisters out of the kitchen at once. At the last minute she handed the slop bucket to one of them and ordered, “Dump this over the fence, and then you’re done for the evening.”

  Miriam watched both small girls run out with big smiles on their faces and then turned back to Ruth. Clearly, Ruth wanted to speak about something private if she got rid of her sisters so quickly.

  True to Miriam’s suspicions, Ruth whispered, “He’s coming here tonight,” her arms in the soapsuds again.

  “Who?” Miriam whispered back, but her heart felt like it had sunk already.

  “Tyler Johnson. The Englisha man.” Ruth’s face glowed. “Oh, my heart pounds at the very thought of him.”

  Miriam picked up the dish towel but didn’t say anything. Did Ruth want a rebuke or an encouragement? Perhaps neither. Ruth must simply want a sympathetic ear to spill her secrets to. Ruth’s mamm, Katie, obviously wouldn’t tolerate such talk. Guilt crept through Miriam. Her own actions at the volleyball game must make Ruth think she could tell her these things.

  Right away, Ruth began to chatter. “I don’t exactly know what he wants, but it’s something to do with Daett, I think. They are talking all the time, and Mamm mentioned Tyler should be invited for supper, but Daett said no. Oh, Miriam, do you think the man plans to join the community?”

  Miriam finally found her voice. “We really shouldn’t be speaking of the man, Ruth. He’s not from the community, and…”

  Ruth looked at Miriam in surprise. “But you were speaking so freely with him the other evening.”

  “I know.” Miriam frowned at the memory. “Maybe I don’t always do what’s right, either.”