“Mose won’t care.” The words slipped out, their sound harsh. “He just sees all the benefits I’ll bring to him. I’ll be a gut frau, and keep his house, and support him in his bishop work, and bear his kinner.”
“Miriam!” Aunt Fannie gasped. “Why are you so bitter?”
“I don’t know.” Miriam struggled to control her anger. “Something has happened to me. I don’t feel like the same Miriam anymore. I feel so different inside. I think I’ve gone mad.”
“You’re not considering refusing Mose?” Aunt Fannie appeared dazed.
“Nay. I will marry him.”
Aunt Fannie appeared relieved. “We all go through times like this. You will survive.”
“I hope so,” Miriam said, standing to her feet. “I really hope so.”
Aunt Fanny hesitated and then said, “Miriam, I want to be honest with you. You need to know that Tyler has been back in the community more than just the once William mentioned. We don’t know much about what he’s up to, but we’ve heard that he’s trying to make things right with Bishop Mullet and Deacon Phillips.”
“Tyler is around again?” Miriam didn’t know whether she was happy or troubled at the words.
“Remember, any feelings you have for him can only end in misery.” Aunt Fannie’s voice was firm. “He’s from another world, and he will never be part of us. You know that.”
“Yah. What is so hard for me to bear is that I thought Tyler had feelings for me. But now I just feel he was using me. It was all about his news story, wasn’t it?”
When Aunt Fannie didn’t respond, Miriam glanced over at her aunt. A look of guilt fell on Aunt Fannie’s face… and Miriam noticed.
“Don’t you agree?” Miriam asked. “It was never really about me. It was about the scandal. I was used. And then he even apparently started that rumor about…” Tears formed, and she choked on sobs.
Finally, Aunt Fannie spoke. “Miriam, perhaps there’s something else you need to know. We weren’t going to tell you, hoping this would all pass and you’d find happiness without bringing up something that would only stir your emotions more.”
Miriam looked puzzled. “What could you possibly tell me that would help?”
“Wait here a moment,” Aunt Fanny said, as she turned and went into her bedroom. She quickly returned with a newspaper. “I guess you should read this editorial. It came out in the paper shortly after all those reporters were questioning you and Mose out by the driveway.”
Miriam took the paper from her aunt.
In a column on the opened editorial page, Miriam read…
Tyler Johnson’s Defense of the Amish
Tyler Johnson, the freelance journalist who has uncovered a political corruption case involving a sitting US Senator, is now using his influence not to further his own interests but those of a little-known Amish community near Clarita. The community figured heavily in the original corruption allegations, but Mr. Johnson is attempting to change that perception. He has pled with federal law enforcement investigators to minimize the community’s involvement and to focus instead on the real perpetrators of the corruption who carried out their nefarious scheme under the guise of helping the Amish community recover from the damage of the tornadoes that ripped through the community two years ago.
According to Mr. Johnson, the peaceful lifestyle and nonresistant beliefs of the Amish could be threatened or severely strained by the court testimony necessary in the federal prosecution of the political corruption case. Mr. Johnson has made a vigorous defense for the community’s beliefs, which are traceable to the sixteenth century and a little-known group of dissenters during the Protestant Reformation.
As if the drama were not interesting enough, Mr. Johnson was originally quoted by a locally based online magazine as having had a romantic dalliance with Miriam Yoder, an Amish schoolteacher from the Clarita community. Mr. Johnson now insists he was misquoted. He claims no such relationship existed. “All of the Amish women,” Mr. Johnson says, “are models of decorum and have outstanding reputations, especially the community’s schoolteacher. Miss Yoder is engaged to an Amish bishop, and I wish her all the happiness in the world.” Mr. Johnson’s account was apparently verified by Miss Yoder’s fiancé, Bishop Mose Stoll, who in an unusual move, spoke recently with reporters outside of an Amish reconstruction project at the home of Mr. William Byler, a Clarita Amish man whose barn had been burned to the ground in an unsuccessful attempt to end Mr. Johnson’s investigation.
It is the recommendation of this paper that authorities honor Mr. Johnson’s request to respect the local Amish community’s admittedly quaint traditions and also to refrain from casting aspersions on individual members of the community without evidence of wrongdoing.
The remaining two paragraphs of the editorial trailed off into meaningless clatter as far as Miriam was concerned. Miriam let the paper fall from her fingers to the floor. Tyler had defended her? To the whole world? Tyler hadn’t even revealed their kisses. Surely the story of how he had kissed an engaged Amish woman would have sold plenty of copies. But Tyler hadn’t told.
Miriam picked up the paper again and stared at the words. Tyler’s tenderness reached off the pages and passed through her whole being. Yah, it turned out he was a wonderful man, and he hadn’t been using her… but the fact remained that Tyler was not for her. Miriam brought herself up sharply.
“Thank you, Aunt Fannie. Thank you so very much,” Miriam said, setting the paper on a nearby table.
Chapter Thirty-Six
The February sun peeked through the heavy clouds scurrying across the prairie sky. Miriam bent her head against the wind and hitched Star to the buggy. Another school week was at a close and every bone in her body ached. Even the children had noticed her crushed spirit this past month. Miriam was sure of it, hard as she tried to act her usual cheerful self.
“What is to become of me?” Miriam asked Star.
He turned to stare at her and blinked his eyes. Miriam patted Star’s neck before she climbed into the buggy and drove out of the schoolhouse lane. She had hoped the turning of a new calendar page this month would make a difference. She had even sent a prayer heavenward while she stood staring at the twenty-eight numbered days on the calendar. But the days until March still seemed far away and heavy.
At home in her dresser, more of Mose’s letters lay still and empty. They were filled with his plans and all about the happenings on his farm. He was doing well, and his preaching as the community’s new bishop pleased the people. Miriam knew she should be with him. Maybe then Mose would show her a little affection. But why couldn’t Mose say something kind and affectionate in his letters? Mose knew she supported him. She had shown that plainly enough. Why couldn’t he at least sound like he cared for her? Even the smallest form of endearment would have brought tears to her eyes.
Maybe Mose was just different. She had been used to men like Wayne who had kissed her often during their engagement. The memory brought a sting of pain. She had no right to think of Wayne’s kisses—or, more importantly, Tyler’s.
She was spoiled, that was all. Mose was a bishop, a leader among the people. And he wanted her as his frau. That was the Lord’s way. Eventually she would come out of this depression. Didn’t all things come to an end, both gut and bad?
Miriam turned onto Highway 48 and lowered her head against the wind. Star did the same. He picked up speed, apparently in a hurry to arrive at Uncle William’s warm barn. Miriam let him pick the pace, and they soon whirled into the Byler driveway.
Uncle William came out of the greenhouse to help unhitch with his hat pulled low over his ears.
“Kind of brisk yet,” he greeted her.
Miriam attempted a smile. “Yah, but winter has to end sometime. Thanks for helping,” she said to him as he led Star to the barn.
“Miriam, are you okay?” He paused with his hand on the bridle.
“Yah, school went well.” Miriam forced another smile. “I’m fine.”
“Okay,�
�� he said, and went on. She was not about to tell her troubles to Uncle William. He could do nothing to help her. No one could… except Mose.
Miriam retrieved her book bag from under the buggy seat, and with a final glance over her shoulder headed for the house. Aunt Fannie met her at the door, but there was no sign of Jonathon.
“He’s playing upstairs,” Aunt Fannie explained.
But there was more to this, Miriam was sure. For some reason Jonathon had been told to stay upstairs when she came home.
“Come.” Aunt Fannie took Miriam’s arm. “We need to talk.”
Her heart pounding, Miriam joined her aunt on the couch. Had she done something wrong?
Aunt Fannie stroked her arm. “William I are really worried about you, Miriam. And I’m sure Mose would be too if he knew. You’re not the happy, cheerful schoolteacher we used to have.”
Miriam sat up straight. “I’m sorry about that. I’ve tried to put on a gut face at school. Maybe I can do better next week.”
“No, Miriam.” Aunt Fannie’s voice was low. “This has gone on long enough. I need to intervene in some way. Ever since Christmas you’ve been moping around as though you’ve lost your dearest friend. I think it has to do with Mose.”
Miriam looked down at the floor. She would say nothing against her future husband.
“Miriam, I want you to show me Mose’s letters. All of them since you were put under the bann.”
Miriam gasped. “But I shouldn’t.”
Aunt Fannie was gentle. “Something is wrong, Miriam, and we need to know what.”
“But, his letters?” Miriam hesitated.
“Go get them,” Aunt Fannie ordered.
Miriam waited. Was she really in bad enough shape that Aunt Fannie had to intervene? And Uncle William? He was involved too?
Miriam rose and took the stairs in slow motion and retrieved the letters from her dresser drawer. She had planned to keep them to show her children and grandchildren someday—hers and Mose’s.
Surely Mose wouldn’t approve of her showing the letters to her aunt, so Miriam was torn. But Aunt Fannie wouldn’t take no for an answer. With a groan Miriam descended the stairs and handed the letters to Aunt Fannie. Aunt Fannie began at once to read, taking her time on the first two, but scanning from there until she reached the last page of the most recent letter.
In his letter from this week he had written the details of his sermon. It was all there in black and white, and Aunt Fannie read each word. Mose had written as if he liked the words, without any concern over how they affected her. Then the final line in the letter was Mose’s attempt at humor: “Minister Kemp must also be impressed with how things are going. He told me once more that his widowed sister Bethany is still looking for a husband. I laughed and told him that this area in my life is already taken care of.”
Aunt Fannie set down the letter. “This is awful, Miriam. I’m so sorry.”
“I suppose I deserve it,” Miriam muttered.
Aunt Fannie ignored her answer and asked, “Miriam, has Mose ever said anything kind to you? Has he ever… touched you?”
Miriam knew her face showed the answer.
“Not even since you’ve been engaged?” Aunt Fannie asked, her voice rising.
“Mose never asked me to marry him.” The words slipped out. “He just planned the wedding. I guess Mose knew I wouldn’t object.”
Aunt Fannie stood to pace the floor. “I’ve heard of a lot of hurtful things in my life, but this… I’m at a loss for words.”
“He’s going to marry me.” Miriam came to his defense. “He’s overlooked my sins and is still willing to have me. That’s enough… isn’t it? And besides, I thought you liked the man.”
“I do!” Aunt Fannie exclaimed. “But I also like you, Miriam. You’re dear to my heart, and this is wrong. This man is like ice.” Aunt Fannie searched for more words. “Well, anyway, I know how a woman about to become a frau acts when she’s about to be blessed with a husband… and this is not it, Miriam.”
“But he’s…” Miriam began before the tears choked her voice. Then great sobs wracked her body, and Aunt Fannie pulled her close.
When the tears slowed, Aunt Fannie held Miriam at arm’s length. “I have to tell you this, Miriam. It’s not fair if I don’t. Tyler has been asking to speak with you.”
Miriam wiped her eyes with her handkerchief. “At this point, what difference does that make?”
“None, really, I guess. Except he’s not sneaking around. That much is to his credit. And he’s been staying away in obedience to Uncle William’s forbidding him to contact you.”
“Tyler’s not from our world.” Miriam met Aunt Fannie’s gaze. “What can he possibly say to me that won’t be just more hurt?”
“I don’t know,” Aunt Fannie said. “I just had to tell you in light of these letters. Why, there’s not a single line of endearment toward you in any of them!”
“Maybe that’s just his way,” Miriam defended.
“No, this kind of courtship is not normal, especially from a man who’s been married before. Why isn’t the wedding date this spring after school is out, or even next month? Most men would demand such a thing. Were you not willing to be married sooner?”
Miriam glanced away before she answered. “I suggested it twice, but Mose said no. Especially since I fell so low with Tyler. And maybe my motives weren’t too pure for wanting to marry soon. I wanted to wed so I could get away from my weakness.” The tears began again, stinging her eyes.
Aunt Fannie gave Miriam another long hug. “I have to speak with William about this. He will want to know.”
“But what if Mose finds out that I told you of our private conversations and showed you his letters?”
“We’ll take care of that,” Aunt Fannie promised.
How that was possible, Miriam had no idea, but the weight on her shoulders had lifted a little.
Miriam squeezed her aunt’s hand. “Thank you for listening. I’ve had only Star lately to tell my troubles to.”
“Oh, you poor thing.” Aunt Fannie was in tears herself. “I’m going out to see William right now.”
Miriam fled upstairs and grabbed Jonathon for a long hug when he peeked out of the front room.
“Does that mean I can come out now?” he asked.
“Yah.” Miriam played with his hair. “I’m sorry you had to stay in the room at all.”
“Mamm said it was important.” Jonathon’s face was sober. “Really important!”
“Oh, you’re such a dear.” Miriam gave him another hug.
Jonathon wiggled out of Miriam’s arms and ran downstairs. Moments later Miriam heard the washroom door slam. With numbness running through her whole body, Miriam entered her bedroom to stare at the corner of the dresser drawer where the stack of letters had been. Aunt Fannie had taken them with her to the greenhouse. Mose’s letters! A chill ran up the back of her neck. Mose would learn of this, and he would not understand. She had allowed other people to read his love letters. Only there was no love in them. Miriam trembled and closed the drawer. The image of the missing letters didn’t fade away, though. They became larger in her mind until that was all she could see. Mose had wanted this time of their life blessed by the Lord, but she had failed him once again.
She had no tears left to cry. Surely her shame would follow her forever. What had happened to the determined young woman of only a few months ago who had been so happy living in the Lord’s will as a single girl? Now she had the promise of marriage in front of her, and to a bishop at that, and all she could do was mope.
Straighten up, Miriam ordered herself. Somehow there would be a way out of this mess. She would write Mose tonight and tell him how truly sorry she was that Aunt Fannie saw the letters.
The front door slammed, and Miriam brought herself out of her thoughts to hurry downstairs.
“Everything’s going to be okay, Miriam,” Aunt Fannie told her, stepping close enough to squeeze Miriam’s hand.
�
�Why? What did Uncle William say?” Miriam couldn’t keep the fear out of her voice.
Aunt Fannie hesitated. “William agrees with me. Something must be done about this, and it’s more than we can handle.”
Miriam stared out the living room window as Uncle William’s buggy drove out of the driveway. “Where’s he going?”
“To see Deacon Phillips.” Aunt Fannie led Miriam to the couch again. “We need some advice from the ministry on how to handle this.”
“You would punish me again?” Miriam felt the coldness creep through her.
“No, Miriam,” Aunt Fannie said. “You’ve been punished enough. It’s time now to look at the other side of this picture. Maybe we haven’t been seeing everything.”
“Like what?” Miriam kept her gaze on the floor.
“We want you back,” Aunt Fannie assured her. “The old Miriam who was so full of joy. The person the whole community so loved and appreciated. Everyone knows you’ve done your part. It might be…” Aunt Fannie stopped.
Miriam waited, and when Aunt Fannie didn’t continue, she looked up. “Might be what?”
Aunt Fannie struggled for a moment. “Let’s just leave it at that for now. You’re not wed yet, and this dating period is to find out whether you are suited for each other.”
Now the tears sprang up again. “And so you think I’m not suited for Mose.”
Aunt Fannie’s eyes brimmed with tears. “No, Miriam. It’s what we never looked at before. Is Mose suited for you? Is he worthy of you?”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Under the bright television lights Tyler pasted on the expected smile. The anchor of the local Oklahoma show leaned forward. “So you’re at the height of your fame right now, Tyler. A little unprecedented for a freelance journalist. How did you accomplish this feat?”
“I hope to rise much higher,” Tyler quipped. “Perhaps I’ll take over your chair before long, Dennis.”
Miriam and the Stranger Page 25
