“Nee, Moriah. Let me do it.”
She shook her head. “I can’t just sit here. Do you want some?”
He nodded, not wanting to argue with her, then went to sit down as she took two white ceramic mugs from the cabinet and poured coffee into them. She spooned a little sugar into Gabe’s, then poured cream into hers before sitting back down at the table and handing him his cup. Surrounding the mug with her hands, she stared into the caramel-colored liquid.
“How do you do it?” he asked after a few moments of silence.
She glanced up. “Do what?”
“Stay so calm.” A few moments ago she’d seemed ready to fall apart. Now she was a pillar of strength. How she managed to regain her equanimity he had no idea.
“I’m not calm,” she said. The tremble in her lower lip as she spoke revealed the truth behind her words. “I don’t know what I feel right now, but it’s definitely not calm.” She looked back at her coffee, but didn’t make a move to drink it. “Does your daed know?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t want to wake him.”
“What time is it?”
“Twelve thirty.”
With a sigh, she said, “I must have been asleep for hours. I was waiting for Levi . . .” Her hands tightened around the mug. “Why is he doing this?” Her voice sounded thin.
“I don’t know.” Gabe stood up from his chair and started pacing the room, his coffee untouched as well. “It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Did he say anything to you about leaving?”
“Nee. Not a word.”
“Did he . . .” She paused, her gaze averted. “Did he say he was . . . unhappy?”
Gabe immediately caught her meaning and sat back down. “Nee, not ever. Moriah, I’m sure that whatever crazy thing is going on inside my brother’s head, it has nothing to do with you.” But as he said it, he saw a tear roll down her cheek.
“He doesn’t love me. Not anymore.” She wiped her face with the back of her hand, still not looking at him. “I wonder if he ever did.”
“Moriah,” Gabe said, lowering his voice. How he wished he could take away the pain, the humiliation she so clearly felt. “This isn’t your fault.”
Her head snapped her head up. “But what if it is? What if he left because I wasn’t a good wife? What if I pushed him to do this?”
He couldn’t imagine her being anything but the perfect wife. “I don’t believe that.”
“Just look at this supper,” she said, her voice rising an octave. “The rolls are burned.”
“Moriah, they’re fine—”
“And I know he likes pumpkin pie more than apple, but I didn’t have any pumpkin. I should have bought some; I should have prepared better. A good wife would have put her husband’s needs first, right?”
Her words were coming out faster now, and the worry that had filled him when she first read Levi’s letter returned. “Pie is not a need, Moriah. He would have been fine eating apple, trust me.”
She stood from her chair, letting the quilt fall to the floor. She kept talking as if he hadn’t said anything. “I must have done something wrong, something horrible for him to leave me. I wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t pretty enough, or desirable enough, or . . .”
Gabe couldn’t take listening to her tear herself down. He leapt from his chair and went to her, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Stop it, Moriah. Stop saying things that aren’t true!”
Her eyes filled with moisture, and she reached up and grabbed his shirt. “I should have made pumpkin, Gabriel. I should have made pumpkin . . .” She fell against his chest and sobbed.
Instinctively his arms went around her. He could easily rest his chin on her head, and he wanted to do just that, to press her against his chest and never let her go. He squeezed his eyes shut.
He knew he should step away, but he stroked her back, even pressed his cheek against her kapp, breathing in the sweet smell of her. While Levi would cast her away, Gabe would treasure her forever.
But she wasn’t his to treasure. With a huge effort, he lifted his head, stilled his hand, and stepped away from her. His shirt was damp with her tears and pain. When she looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears, it took every ounce of his resolve not to draw her against him once more.
“I was going to tell him something tonight,” she whispered, her cheeks and lips shiny with moisture. “I was going to give him the best news in the world.”
Gabe sucked in a breath. He didn’t have to hear the words; he already knew what she was about to say.
“We’re having a baby.” Somehow she managed a watery smile. “I’m pregnant with Levi’s child.” She laid her palm flat against her stomach. “This baby was going to fix everything between us, Gabriel. Draw us closer together, make us a real family.” Once again she leaned against him, pressing her cheek against his shirt. “Now what am I going to do?”
Gabe continued to hold her, convincing himself he was only offering her comfort, even though with every fiber of his being he longed to offer her more. Most of all he wanted to take on her pain as his own. But he couldn’t. He could only give her solace, and weak solace at that. “I don’t know, Moriah,” he said, reveling in her nearness while wallowing in his own guilt. “I don’t know.”
“Gabriel . . . Gabe, sohn, wake up.”
Gabe’s eyes flew open at the sound of his father’s voice and the touch of the old man’s hand on his shoulder. He straightened to an upright position as the kitchen came into focus. A dull ache spread across his shoulder blades. Glancing around, he realized he’d fallen asleep at the table. Arching his back, he looked up into his father’s concerned eyes. “What time is it?” he asked, his voice still heavy with sleep.
“Past seven thirty. When you didn’t show up at the shop, I got worried. Aaron had to come get me to unlock the door.”
Gabe rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, Daed.” He surveyed the kitchen once again. The fire had burned out in the stove, and a chill hung in the air. He spied two nearly full cups of cold coffee on the table. Then the prior evening’s events replayed in his mind.
Soon after Moriah had told him about the baby, he had managed to convince her to go upstairs and sleep. Despite the fatigue that had seeped into her features, she had resisted. Finally, she agreed to rest for the baby’s sake. He had planned to stay up, to be there if she needed him. Sometime during the night he must have fallen asleep on the table.
The impact of her pregnancy continued to swirl around in his brain. A baby. Moriah was pregnant, and her husband gone. His heart squeezed in his chest at the thought of the pain she must be going through. There was no option of divorce in their faith. Levi would be her husband until death, whether he was here or not.
“Gabe? Are you gonna tell me what’s going on here or am I gonna have to drag it out of you?”
His father’s voice yanked him out of his musings. Gabe looked at the old man, dread spinning in his gut. He didn’t want to tell him about Levi, but he had no choice. He couldn’t prolong it; his father would find out soon enough anyway. Unless . . .
Unless Levi came back.
Once his brother knew about the baby, he’d have to return. He’d put away self-centeredness for the sake of his wife and child. They would work out their problems and be the family God intended them to be. Then his father wouldn’t have to know anything about his son’s betrayal.
Gabe popped up from his chair, his decision made. “I need you to do me a favor, Daed.”
A bewildered expression crossed the older man’s face. “Sure, sohn. Anything. But I still want to know what’s going on.”
“You will, soon enough.” He went outside and grabbed a few chunks of wood, then started the fire in the stove. The wood crackled as the fire burned through the bark. He dumped the stale contents of the coffeepot in the sink, then started a fresh brew. Moriah would probably want a cup once she awakened.
“Gabriel?” John questioned, sitting down at the table. “Are you g
oing to tell me what you need me to do or not?”
“Sorry. Can you stay with Moriah? She’s upstairs, asleep. She’s not feeling well.”
John raised his bushy brows in surprise. “Where’s Levi?”
Gabe hesitated for a moment before answering. “Gates Mills,” he said.
John frowned. “He didn’t come home last night?”
“He had some extra work to do.” Gabe checked the stove again, even though the fire was at the perfect temperature. He hated lying to his father, and he couldn’t look at him while falsehoods flew out of his mouth. But it was necessary, at least for the moment. “Levi will be back later tonight.” Lord willing.
That simple explanation seemed to pacify John. “Good. I have half a mind to tell that boy to quit working for those Yankees. We need him here. It isn’t as if we’re desperate for money. The Lord has seen fit to provide us with everything we need.”
“Ya, He has.” Eager to end the conversation before his father asked more questions, Gabe searched the kitchen for his hat and coat, then remembered he left them up front. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves, inhaling the rich scent of coffee brewing. “I’ll be gone for part of the day, Daed. Please stay here and keep an eye on Moriah. I’ll close the shop, but Aaron can do a few things in there. If I’m not back by the time he’s finished, go ahead and send him home.”
“That’s a fine boy you hired,” John said. “I can tell he’s going to be a gut worker. Hard to believe he spent time in jail.”
Gabe nodded, only half-listening to what John was saying. “I’ll see you this afternoon.”
After grabbing his coat and hat, he rushed to the shop. Aaron was already at work sweeping the floor, even though it didn’t need it. He had swept it thoroughly the day before.
“Aaron,” Gabe called.
Aaron looked up, then set the broom aside before shoving his hands in his pockets and lumbering over to Gabe. “What can I do for you?”
His standard question. Since starting work two days ago, Aaron Detweiler hadn’t said much and mostly kept to himself, but he always asked Gabe and John what he could do for them. Gabe had confidence that he was leaving the shop in good hands. “I’ve got some errands to do, and I’ll be gone most of the day. Daed’s inside the main house, but I don’t want him working out here today. I’m closing up the shop, but I hope you’ll do a few things for me.” Aaron nodded and listened carefully to Gabe’s instructions. “When you’re done, just let Daed know before you go home.”
Aaron nodded again but remained silent.
“Danki.” Gabe hurried out the door and hustled to the end of the driveway. He sprinted along the road to the telephone box situated in between his property and the Fishers’, his neighbors. The church’s Ordnung allowed the Millers to use cell phones for their business, but they hadn’t made the switch yet. Four families, including his, shared this telephone for business or emergency purposes only. Today constituted an emergency. He called Guy Thompson, a fellow he knew who ran a taxi service for many of the Amish. As the hollow-sounding ring repeated in Gabe’s ears, he prayed Guy was home.
“Thompson,” a man with a low, gruff voice answered on the fourth ring.
Gabe offered a quick, silent prayer of thanks. “Guy, this is Gabriel Miller.”
“Hey, Gabe. How are you?”
“Doing all right,” Gabe said, but that was far from the truth. Inside the dense wool of his gloves, his palms broke out into a sweat while his stomach churned. Confronting his brother was the last thing he wanted to do, and he knew he needed God’s help to keep his temper when he saw him. He fought to keep his tone steady. He didn’t need Guy asking any questions. “I need a ride. Are you available today?”
“Sure am. Where you wanna go?”
“Gates Mills,” Gabe said, letting out a frosty breath. “I need to see my brother.”
Moriah’s eyes ached as she struggled to open them. Somehow she had managed to fall asleep, but she didn’t know when or how. She had only agreed to go upstairs to placate Gabe, who had insisted she get some rest. Thank the Lord he had been there last night. What would she have done without him? Uncharacteristically, he had been kind to her, giving her comfort, trying to reassure her that everything would be all right, even though she could see in his eyes how deeply Levi’s betrayal had affected him. When he told her she had to sleep for her baby’s sake, she finally, albeit reluctantly, agreed.
But when she’d begun to climb the stairs, the tears came again. Over and over she had asked herself how Levi could do this—to her, to their families, to himself, to their community. Didn’t he realize what it meant for him to leave their faith? He had agreed to live by the tenets of their church for the rest of his life when he had been baptized. How could he break that vow? And why would he break their marriage vow?
She couldn’t shake the thought that somehow his leaving had to be her fault. What she had done to fail him. What she could have done differently.
She’d cried until she had fallen asleep.
Now, with bright winter sunshine streaming through her window, she forced herself to wake up. Breathing in the air of a new day, her sorrow multiplied as she looked around her bedroom. The room she had shared with Levi for the past four months. Every bit of her surroundings reminded her of him. She spied the open closet door, taking in the dark outline of his black Sunday suit. He had looked so handsome in his stark-white shirt and black vest. Her gaze fell on his spare pair of work boots, one boot lying sideways as if it had been cast asunder.
She sat up and threw off the covers. The emptiness of this room, the dreams that would be unfulfilled, they all assaulted her.
She glanced down and saw that she wore the same dress she’d had on yesterday. Shoving away her thoughts, she rose from the bed and trudged to the closet, swallowing the lump in her throat. As she reached toward her dresses, she tried to ignore Levi’s shirts, particularly the one she’d sewn and given to him on their one-month anniversary. She had commemorated each monthly anniversary with something special. Last night was to be the most special of all.
Blinking back tears, she grabbed the first dress she touched and carried it to her bed, tossing it on top of her scattered bedclothes. Within minutes she had stripped off her wrinkled dress and was in her underclothes, her exposed skin pebbling in the cold air. She hadn’t bothered to start the small propane heater in the bedroom last night, and she felt the chill seep into her. But instead of dressing, she shut the closet door and stared at her reflection in the mirror hanging on the back.
Her hand went to her flat stomach. Soon the new life inside her would grow, stretching out her belly more than she would think possible. She remembered when her youngest sister, Ruthie, had been born. Her mother had been so swollen Moriah thought she would pop. She wondered if her baby would do the same thing to her.
Her teeth started to chatter, but she didn’t care. The cold numbed her, both outside and in. She could stand here forever, not feeling a thing. No pain. No regrets. No heartache.
Nothing.
“Moriah?”
The faraway sound of her father-in-law’s gravelly voice travelled up the stairs.
“Honey, are you awake?”
Her body began to shake violently as the cold set into her bones. She noted that John’s voice was steady, and she realized Gabe hadn’t told him about Levi. She briefly wondered why, but figured he had his own reasons. She wouldn’t say anything either, not wanting to be the one to break the bad news to him. She also didn’t want to raise his suspicions, so she quickly dressed, then pinned up her hair with shaky hands before fastening her kapp. Slipping on her shoes, she went downstairs, hoping her father-in-law wouldn’t notice the redness in her eyes.
John stood at the bottom of the staircase, one gnarled hand resting on the simple banister. “Gude mariye,” he said, his kind gaze giving her a once over. “Gabe said you were feeling poorly last night. Are you doing any better this morning?”
“I’m f-fine,”
she said, unable to keep her teeth from chattering.
His good-natured expression changed to one of concern. He reached out and touched her forehead with the rough pads of his fingers. “Goodness, you’re freezing.” John put his arm around her shoulders and shook his head. “Chilled to the bone. Didn’t you have the heat on last night?”
“I forgot,” she said as he led her to the kitchen. “Guess I was too tired last night.”
“You must have been. Well, we’ll warm you right up.”
They walked into the kitchen, and her cold body welcomed the heat emanating from the stove. The aroma of fresh coffee comforted her as she sat down at the table.
John walked over to the stove and picked up the percolator. “Gabriel made some coffee before he left. Thought you might want some. Would you like a cup?”
Bless Gabriel. Moriah wrapped her arms around her body. How stupid of her to stand upstairs and freeze. That’s all she needed to do—catch a cold and get sick. She had more than herself to think about now.
“Or would you rather have some tea?” John turned and looked at her. “My own special brew. Will fix whatever ails you.” He smiled.
Not knowing what John’s “special brew” consisted of, or if it would be safe for her baby, she shook her head. “Coffee will be fine.”
John poured her a cup of coffee. “Sugar? Cream?”
“Black,” she said, even though she hated the taste of black coffee. But she didn’t want to put him to any trouble. Knowing Gabriel, he had probably asked his father to stay with her. Yet another reason to be grateful for her brother-in-law. She needed the distraction of John’s company.
Her father-in-law placed the mug in front of her, then set his own mug in front of him before he sat down.
“Where’s Gabriel?” Moriah said, breathing in the scent of the strong beverage. Her stomach performed an unexpected summersault. Maybe she should have had the tea instead.
“I don’t know. Said he had to go somewhere, and he’d be gone most of the day. He left Aaron in charge of the shop.”
The Hearts of Middlefield Collection Page 8
