Was he having second thoughts about their relationship? The good Lord knew she had more than a few.
Rising from her chair, she straightened up a small pile of Family Life magazines on the end table and began fluffing the already full sofa pillows. She should have a talk with Christian. A serious talk, not the superficial conversations they normally had. She should find out what his intentions truly were. When she agreed to date him, she had done so with an open mind and—she hoped—an open heart. But every time they were together, it seemed they treated each other more as friends than romantic interests. Her mother had probably picked up on that as well.
“Rachel?”
Rachel turned around to see her mother poke her head in the doorway of the parlor. “Ya?”
“When you’re finished in here, I need you to clean the upstairs bedrooms.”
“Aaron’s too?”
“Ya. You do such a wonderful job, even better than I do.” Sarah smiled. “Your husband will be very lucky indeed to have such a good housekeeper.”
Rachel managed a half smile and wondered if her mother had lost her mind. Mami was clearly obsessed with Rachel’s future marriage—when or if it ever happened.
But her mother’s compliment about her cleaning skills warmed her; Rachel abhorred untidiness and had always kept her room in order. Still, she didn’t relish straightening up Aaron’s room. She wondered if he was even out of bed, despite it being midmorning. Since his return from jail, her parents had been dealing with him as if he were made of thin glass. They said it was because he was still in drug recovery, but Rachel was keenly aware of the difference between the way they treated her and her older brothers, though her brothers now were married and out of the house.
The bulk of the chores often fell to her, even more so after Aaron had fallen in with a bad crowd during his rumspringa. He had been belligerent, lazy, and argumentative, especially with their parents, something she had never done. While she had experimented with a few forbidden things during her own rumspringa, such as borrowing one of those little music players and trying on one of her Yankee friend’s makeup, she didn’t have the rebellious streak her brother possessed. Since his return, he had stayed holed up in his room for the most part, and she hadn’t talked to him much. If anyone asked her to describe her brother, she doubted she could do it, other than give just a physical description. She didn’t know him anymore.
Yet she still had to clean his room.
As she passed by the front door on the way to the stairs, she heard someone knocking. Glad for the reprieve, however slight, she turned around and answered it, surprised to see Gabriel Miller standing at the front door.
“Good morning, Rachel.”
“Good morning, Gabe. What can I do for you?”
“Is Aaron around?”
“Why don’t you come in?” she offered, remembering her mother’s words about hospitality. “I haven’t seen him this morning, but I’ll check upstairs.”
“Danki.”
“Would you like to sit down in the parlor? I could bring you a cup of coffee. We have some sticky buns too.”
“No, I’m fine. But thank you. I’ll just wait here.”
Rachel dashed up the stairs and stopped in front of her brother’s room. The door was shut, so she knocked. Even though she didn’t strike the door very hard, it opened in response. She expected to see him asleep in bed, but his bed was already made, their grandmother’s black-and-white quilt neatly pulled over it. She stepped inside and saw him sitting in a chair beside the only window, staring out into the barren, snow-covered field behind the house. Unsure of her brother’s mood, she looked around the room. Nothing amiss. A small chest of drawers sat next to the tiny closet. A round, braided rug, made by their mother from pieces of leftover, faded rags, covered the middle of the wood-planked floor.
“Gabe Miller’s here to see you,” she said in a soft voice.
Slowly he turned around and faced her, his expression blank, as it had been since he’d returned from jail. Without verbally responding, he pushed back his chair and walked passed her to exit the room. Not even a single thank-you for her trudging up the stairs to fetch him.
A passage from Romans entered her mind as she battled the resentment rising within her. “Do not let the sun go down on your anger.” Easy for Paul to say.
As she thought more on the passage, her ire cooled. She really did need to work on managing her anger. It seemed she’d been more and more volatile lately and didn’t fully understand why.
Well, might as well clean Aaron’s room while I’m here. Examining the small space, she searched for what needed to be cleaned and straightened. After five minutes she realized, surprisingly, that there was nothing for her to do. He had done it all.
“I need someone four days a week.” Gabe and Aaron stood on the Detweilers’ front porch, Aaron in a simple broadcloth shirt, pants, and socks. Gabe figured the boy must be freezing, but if he was, he didn’t say anything. Instead he silently listened to Gabe’s offer, nodding in understanding every once in a while.
“Mostly you’ll be cleaning up around the shop, oiling the tools, and helping me out at the forge when necessary.” Gabe thought about adding the duty of keeping his father away from the forge, but he wouldn’t humiliate his daed like that. He would keep an eye on him himself. “The pay is pretty good, but not as much as you’d get at one of the factories around here. I know for sure that Dillen’s pays more. I gotta be honest about that.”
“Not worried about the pay.”
Gabe stroked his chin as he sized up the seventeen-year-old. He had a thin frame, but that was to be expected from his recent drug use and time spent in jail. Blond fuzz covered his scalp. When he first came home, he looked something like what the Yankees called a skinhead, but at least he wasn’t completely bald anymore. The kid’s face was, however, completely unreadable. Blank was the best description he could come up with.
“You’ve heard my offer,” Gabe said. “And my terms. What say you? Will you take the job?”
Aaron nodded slowly. “Ya.”
Gabe grinned. “Be there at seven sharp tomorrow morning. Levi and I usually start at six, but we won’t need you until seven.”
“I can start this afternoon, if you want.”
Gabe considered his offer for a moment. “All right. Do you need a ride?”
“Nee. I’ll walk.”
“Then let’s say in a couple hours. I can show you around the place, tell you how we run things.” He held out his hand and Aaron clasped it in a gentleman’s agreement. He scanned the young man’s lack of winter attire. “You better get inside before you freeze,” he said.
“I’m fine,” Aaron replied with a shrug. He turned and went inside.
Satisfied, Gabe descended the steps, unhitched his horse, and headed home. He’d closed down the shop for an early lunch while he went to talk to Aaron. His father hadn’t minded or questioned him; he just went back to the house and said he would have some tea and read for a while. The old man looked tired, and Gabe wasn’t in any hurry to have him back in the shop again.
As he made his way back to his house, he passed by the Byler’s and recognized Levi and Moriah’s buggy in the driveway. Her beautiful face immediately came to mind, and he remembered her near fainting spell earlier that morning. The past four months had been difficult, knowing that she lived only a few feet away from him in the main house.
And now she carried Levi’s child. Another blow, even though he had known it would eventually happen. He slapped the reins against the horse’s flanks. The sooner he accepted that Moriah was lost to him, the easier life would be. Every night he prayed the same prayer to the Almighty—to free him from this prison of sin and covetousness. His prayers were still unanswered.
God rewards the faithful in His time, not man’s. Gabe knew this, and clung to it. God would answer his prayer eventually and release him of this burden, of that he was sure. In the meantime, He was molding Gabe into a new vessel, one
worthy and strong enough to serve Him. As a worker of iron, he was well acquainted with the heat and pressure and power necessary to change raw material into something useful.
He just wished the process wasn’t so painful.
Chapter 5
Butterflies danced a jig inside Moriah’s belly as she prepared supper, although she wasn’t exactly sure if it was caused by nerves or nausea. First thing this morning, she’d had to run to the bathroom. Levi had already left for Gates Mills, saving her from having to explain to him why she was throwing up. He would find out why tonight, during their anniversary dinner. She had spent the previous day cleaning the house from top to bottom, hoping Levi would notice her efforts. Unfortunately, he hadn’t, or at least he hadn’t said he’d noticed.
She placed her hand over her stomach and stirred the simmering liver, spooning the brown gravy over the meat and onions. Liver had never been one of her favorites, and she wasn’t sure she would be able to eat a bite. But Levi loved it, and she wanted this meal to be special.
Remembering her promise to John about not skipping meals, she decided she’d eat at least a small portion with Levi tonight. The aroma of yeast rolls and a fresh-baked apple pie filled the kitchen. She knew he liked pumpkin pie better, but she’d forgotten she had used all of the canned pumpkin at Christmastime. Even though February was drawing to a close, the food cellar still held plenty of apples from the fall harvest. She had even sliced a few hearty wedges of cheddar cheese to accompany the pie. She hoped Levi would be pleased.
She placed the rolls in a basket and wrapped a tea towel over them to keep them warm. When the liver and onions finished simmering, she turned off the burner and placed a lid on top of the pot. Glancing at the battery-run clock on the wall, she saw she’d finished just in time. Levi would be home any minute. When he had been late last night, he had promised to be home in time for supper tonight. Anticipation filled her as she went to the sitting room and sat on the sofa by the large picture window, waiting for the familiar white van to arrive. She imagined what his reaction to her news would be. An image of his handsome face lit up with joy came to mind. Surely he would be as happy as she was about the baby. Of that she had no doubt.
“Moriah . . . Moriah.”
The sound of her husband’s voice penetrated her mind. Moriah opened her eyes, surprised to find herself in a darkened room. A strong hand touched her shoulder, shaking her gently. Then soft, glowing light flooded her eyes.
She squinted, trying to figure out where she was, then realized she had fallen asleep on the sofa in the sitting room. Moving to an upright position, she focused on the man turning away from the gas-powered lamp he had just lit. Through sleepy eyes, she smiled as she looked at his back. He hadn’t even had a chance to take off his coat and hat. He must have had to work late, but she was glad he was finally home. Now she could tell him about their precious baby.
But when he turned around, her anticipation dimmed. Although many people had difficulty telling the twin brothers apart, she never did. “Gabriel?”
His expression solemn, he came and sat down next to her on the couch. A strange thing for him to do, since normally he kept his distance from her.
“Moriah, are you awake?” he asked, his voice quiet, but with a slight edge to it. “Fully awake?”
She rubbed her eyes to rid them of sleep, then looked at him. “Ya, Gabriel. I’m up.” Only then did she see the distress in his brown eyes. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
He turned from her and looked at the wall for a moment before slowly rubbing the back of his neck. Then he took off his hat and set it on the end table next to the sofa.
The longer he took to answer, the faster the panic built inside her. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. “Gabriel, what is going on?”
Without a word he reached into his pocket and withdrew a folded piece of paper. He handed it to her. “Levi sent this,” he said tightly.
Her gaze dropped to the note. She stared at it, not wanting to accept it from him. Her throat tightened at the thought of reading it, sensing it contained something she didn’t want to know. She raised her head to see Gabriel’s expression, but his eyes darted from hers, as if he couldn’t bear to look at her directly. His reaction only fueled the anxiety rising inside her. He pushed the note toward her again. This time she took the paper and unfolded it. She first noticed a business heading stamped at the top: Johnston’s Farms. Had something happened to Levi at the horse farm?
Moriah,
This is a hard letter for me to write. You have to know up front that I never meant to hurt you. In my own way, I did love you.
Tears sprang to her eyes, blurring the small, uniform lines in front of her. Not hurt her? Did love her? What kind of words were those? She blinked, and round circles of moisture dotted the page. She forced herself to read on.
I am leaving you and the Amish. I haven’t felt right about being Amish for a long time, but I thought I didn’t have any choice. Everyone in my family joined the church, and it would have broken my mother’s heart if I hadn’t joined. But Mami is gone, and I want to be free.
I don’t want to follow rules all the time. I don’t want to be stuck in four-hour church services or banging on a forge until I die. I’ve found my place with the Yankees. There’s no drudgery, no self-denial. Only total freedom to be who I am.
I hope you can understand why I had to do this, Moriah. And I hope someday you will forgive me. I think we’ll both be better off.
Levi Miller
Moriah let the letter slip through her fingers and drop to the floor. Slowly she rose from the couch and wrapped her arms around her body. She’d let the fire go out in the stove. She had to get more wood and light the stove. Maybe then she would feel warm again.
Gabe wasn’t sure what he expected when Moriah read his brother’s note, but the silent way she left the room wasn’t it. Alarmed, he Levi Miller jumped up from the sofa and followed her. As he entered the kitchen, the faint scent of rolls mingled with liver and onions hung in the air. One glance at the kitchen table and his heart broke even more.
She’d obviously taken pains to make the setting perfect. She had covered the table with a white linen cloth, the one his mother had reserved for special occasions. A small gas lamp bathed the room in soft light. A basket of rolls, the red tea towel covering the bread in an attempt to keep it warm, sat next to a sunken apple pie that looked like it had been out for hours.
His gaze jerked from the table when he saw Moriah walking out the back door, without a coat or wrap on. Although spring was only a month away, the damp night chilled the bones. “Moriah,” he called, following her out the door. “Where are you going?”
“Stove’s out,” she said, her voice monotone and barely audible. “I shouldn’t have fallen asleep.”
He came up behind her as she bent to pick up several split pieces of wood. “Go inside, Moriah,” he said. “I’ll get the wood.”
In the darkness of the night he couldn’t see her expression, but he could see the shadow of her movement as she nodded her head. She went back inside, her steps slow, as if she were in shock. Gabe realized she probably was.
He snatched up enough wood to make a decent-sized fire, then dashed back inside where Moriah stood in the middle of the kitchen, staring at the withered pie on the table. “I should have made pumpkin,” she mumbled. “He likes pumpkin better than apple.”
Concern filled him as he shoved the wood in the opening of the stove. He moved beside her and led her to a chair. “Sit down, and don’t move. I’ll get the fire started.” He started back to the stove but added for good measure, “Don’t move.”
He lit the stove. Soon the kitchen would be warm. Hopefully that would help; she appeared so cold. He could see her body trembling, her fingertips a bluish hue. Remembering the quilt he saw lying over the back of the couch in the front room, he went to fetch it. Within moments he came back and put it around her shoulders, then sat down next to her.
He was g
lad to see she had gathered the quilt closer to her body. At least she wasn’t completely catatonic. “Do you want some coffee? Tea maybe?”
“Coffee,” she said, then looked up at him, her eyes not so empty now.
As he moved around the kitchen, easily locating what he needed—she hadn’t rearranged anything since moving into the house—he thought about his brother. That Levi would leave the church, leave his wife . . . Gabe could barely comprehend it. That he would do such a thing by an impersonal letter added even more fuel to the angry fire stoking inside him.
Levi had sent Gabe a letter as well, through the driver that had taken him to Gates Mills for the past couple months. In the short note, he had said he was leaving the church and the community—to do what, Gabe didn’t know—and told him not to try to contact him. Right now Gabe didn’t care if he never saw his brother again. The coward had left it up to him to deliver the news not only to Moriah but also to their father.
As the coffee perked on the stove, he dropped his head in his hands. How could he tell Daed what Levi had done? Did his brother not realize their father’s increasingly fragile state? Was he so selfish that he didn’t care if their father died from the heartbreak of knowing his son had chosen the world over God?
“Gabriel?”
He looked up at the sound of Moriah’s voice. Her features seemed less pale, less haunted. But the pain was still evident in her eyes, in the downward turn of her mouth. He hated seeing her suffer this way.
She stood up from her chair and walked over to him. Placing her hand on his arm, she said, “Let it go, Gabriel. Let your anger for Levi go.”
How did she know what he was thinking? He followed her gaze to his hands, which were clenched so tightly the knuckles where white. When she looked at his face, he relaxed his hands.
The coffee pot finished percolating. Gabe started to reach past Moriah’s shoulder for a cup from the cabinet when she stopped him. “I’ll get it.”
The Hearts of Middlefield Collection Page 7
