“I’ll be here,” he said, his voice low and deep. “Always.”
“And I’ll take care of you,” she said earnestly. “If you need me, all you need to do is send me a message and I’ll drop everything. You still have a wife. You’ll appreciate me more if you see less of me.”
Did she feel the same about him? Was he easier to appreciate when she saw him once a decade? Were they better supporting each other through the hard times, and then taking their distance again?
Miriam took a purposeful step away from him, dropped her gaze and wiped her face. Then she walked toward her bag and picked it up. She hadn’t noticed the hair that had come loose, and when she looked back at him, she looked bedraggled and sorrowful.
“Would you drive me to the bus station, Amos?” she asked quietly. “I need to get home.”
Her voice caught at the last word: home.
This was her home, and Amos wanted to shout it at her, to make her hear it! He was supposed to be her home—his arms were supposed to be her protection. But whatever marriage was supposed to be, they’d always seemed to miss the mark.
“If that’s what you want,” he said, and he caught her eye, waiting for her to see what she was so determined to walk away from. “If it’s what you really, truly want.”
Would she change her mind?
“Thank you, Amos,” she whispered. “I appreciate it.”
No, she wouldn’t. She always had been stronger than him in spirit. She was tougher, more determined, more convinced of her own views. No one changed Miriam Lapp’s mind on anything.
Amos let out a slow breath and nodded. He’d watched his mother be miserable trying to make his father happy. He’d watched her deny herself of the things she needed most desperately, just to try and please her husband. And maybe medication wasn’t the same thing as what was most necessary to Miriam’s happiness, but regardless, Amos would never do that to his wife. Amos wouldn’t beg her to come back, or change herself, or to give up one fraction of the life she longed for. Not for him.
He went outside and hitched up the buggy. As he worked, he wondered if Miriam weren’t right. This was painful now, but she was right that they were so very different. They wanted different things from life, from marriage, from love... And when Miriam was happy and bright, shimmering with energy, that was when she was meddling in his business, giving him unasked for advice or staring down one of his customers.
She didn’t want to be a wife at home, trusting her husband to provide. She wanted to be pushing him forward, making him better, putting her fingerprints all over the business he’d built up from scratch. She was so much energy, so much good intention, so much forward motion...
They drove each other crazy.
Gott, how did we get here? he prayed in his heart. How did we end up loving each other, but completely incapable of living together?
No one would understand this if he tried to explain. Noah and Thomas would nod, and then exchange perplexed looks with each other. Mammi was the only one who came close to understanding the complexity of his relationship with his wife, but even she had been bent on trying to reunite them.
Amos brought the buggy to the side of the house, and then took her travel bag and put it in the back. Miriam didn’t wait for a hand up. She settled herself on the bench, and he went around to the other side.
He’d drive his wife to the bus station, and then he’d have to let her go.
She was right. If they did this later—in a month or two, in another year—it just might tear out his heart, too, and he couldn’t be sure he’d recover.
* * *
When the bus pulled away from the station, Amos couldn’t see Miriam’s face. All he could make out was the white of her kapp, and then just as the bus came past him, he got a flash of her face, and her hand suddenly pressed against the glass.
He stood there as the bus rumbled away, his heart hovering in his chest as if it was afraid to beat again.
She was gone.
He suddenly remembered that carved box. He’d finished it the night before, and he’d forgotten to give it to her. Even in their goodbyes, he seemed to be messing this up.
He swallowed hard and turned back toward the station. His horse and buggy waited in the parking lot, and he pushed past an Amish man he knew, refusing to look up. He couldn’t face friendly banter right now. He couldn’t pretend he was fine when inside of him he was falling apart.
When he got to the buggy, he hoisted himself up into the seat, his vision blurred by unshed tears. They wouldn’t fall, but they hung there in front of his eyes, making it impossible to see anything clearly.
His shop was waiting for him. Thomas and Noah would be starting to worry...
He’d go back to work. He’d pour this heartache into his craft, and he’d work long hours so that when he got back to his empty house, he could simply drop into bed and melt into the oblivion of sleep.
His heart would heal...eventually. And Gott would give him something else to live for. Before, it was Thomas and Noah who came into his life. Maybe there would be someone else who would need his battered heart and his best intentions.
Just not a wife.
Life was long, and as Mammi always said, Gott worked in the details. Gott still had something for him to do, a way for him to brighten his corner. He’d just have to wait for the Almighty to put it in his path.
Gott might be preparing mansions for them in Heaven, but He didn’t forget his kinner on earth, either.
* * *
Miriam carried her bag into the family farmhouse. The Schwartz farm was large, even by Amish standards. The house had seven bedrooms, and a summer kitchen that extended off the south end for cooler summer cooking. Japheth’s wife, Arleta, was peeling potatoes into a large pot, and she looked up with a tired smile.
“You’re back,” Arleta said.
“Yah, I’m back.” Miriam set down her bag.
“Your brother thought you might stay with your husband,” Arleta said. “I confess, I thought you might, too.”
Miriam shook her head. “I only stayed as long as I did because Amos’s grandmother needed my help in her final days.”
“Yah, I’m sorry for your loss,” Arleta said. “I know you loved her. What with your father’s passing, and now Mary Lapp—”
Miriam nodded. “It’s been a hard season.”
Miriam glanced around the wide kitchen. The table seated twelve, easily, and there was space enough for a row of storage cabinets that held bulk ingredients.
Once upon a time, this house had been full of extended family and visiting friends filling up all this extra space, and now it was Japheth’s family, his wife and four children. Her brother was nowhere to be seen, and she wondered if he was in his office, or away from the house. She pulled out the envelope that held the documents she needed to prove that she owned the strip mall. This was her most important task right now.
Overhead, Miriam could hear one of her nieces sweeping, and out the kitchen window two more of her nieces were bent over in the garden, weeding. The baby was in a cradle in the corner of the kitchen, and Arleta was pregnant again. She’d had no trouble with childbearing.
“It might be a good time to reconnect with Amos...” Arleta said hesitantly, and Miriam’s mind was tugged back to her sister-in-law.
“Are you anxious to get rid of me?” Miriam asked with an uncomfortable laugh.
“Of course not.” Arleta shook her head. “But I really think your father did you wrong by meddling in your marriage the way he did, and your brother and I never agreed with that. We couldn’t counter him, of course. That would have been wrong. But Amos Lapp is a good man. He might not be as successful as we are, but he’s still a good man. I’m sure you don’t want to be keeping house with me. I mean, I’m good company, but I’m not enough.” Arleta shot her a teasing smile.
T
hat was what most everyone would assume—that Miriam had finally gone home to her husband. But it wasn’t an option.
“I won’t be getting in your way,” Miriam said. “I found the documents I went to look for. My daet signed a certain property over to me, and I’m going to use that income to start a new business that I can run.”
“Which property?” Arleta’s tone sharpened.
“The strip mall on Main Street,” Miriam said.
“Hmm.” Arleta turned back to the potato peeling, but her movements were sharper now, and the peels whisked into a bucket.
“What did I say?” Miriam asked.
Was Arleta angry at her getting even that much? Arleta stopped peeling and looked up.
“And you think that’s the right move for you?” her sister-in-law asked pointedly. “You think you should run a business and forget about keeping a home?”
Miriam glanced around the spotless kitchen. This was her home. She’d been born in this house.
“Do you want me underfoot?” Miriam asked.
“I’m not asking you to leave if you’re determined to stay. We all have to choose the life we want, and if this is it, then who am I to argue with you? But this is a big house!” Arleta said. “There’s enough work to share! My girls and I can keep it running, but we have a whole garden we let go to seed because we don’t have enough time in the day to take care of it! And you want to go start your business like you’re some child playing games with her daet. And Japheth doesn’t need the help, if you’re thinking of working with him! He’s the man. He can keep it running. No one wants a woman coming to them for lease payments, anyway. Your father spoiled you! He let you play like a little girl, going with him to take care of business when you should have been here at the house doing your duty. Let Japheth take care of the men’s work. What about doing the work you’re supposed to be doing? If you won’t do it for your husband, you can do it here.”
Miriam stared at her sister-in-law in surprise. She hadn’t realized that all this bitterness was under the surface. When her daet was alive, he ruled this house and he dictated that Miriam should go with him to understand the business. Miriam had pitched in when she was at home, but that wasn’t the majority of her day.
“My daet gave me that business,” Miriam said, her voice tight. “And I will need it to provide for myself. Maybe I’ll end up getting a little place of my own—”
“You have a husband to provide for you,” Arleta said. “You have a home with him. I don’t know why you refuse to go back.”
“Because I don’t make my husband happy!” she blurted out, tears springing to her eyes.
Behind her, Japheth’s voice reverberated. “Should I go have a word with him? I don’t care if he’s happy or not! You’re his wife!”
Miriam turned to see her brother in the doorway. Japheth stood there with his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes ablaze. He didn’t have his hat on inside, and his hair was slightly askew.
“No, I don’t need you to go shout at Amos,” she snapped. “I’m perfectly capable of speaking for myself. Amos and I understand each other very well. We’re just...different.”
“As are all men and women!” Japheth retorted. “Miriam, our daet didn’t do you any favors by chasing away your husband. I’ll tell you that much. I thought if you went back to see Amos, you’d see reason, too.”
“Daet didn’t chase him away...” she said. “If anyone had ruined things, it was me and Amos. We were adult enough to make a marriage work or tear it apart.”
“Yah, Daet did,” Japheth replied resolutely. “Daet made you into the son he always wanted, and that didn’t prepare you for married life.”
Miriam exchanged a tired look with her brother. This was an old conversation. Their father had taken more interest in teaching Miriam the business because she’d caught on to it more quickly. It was second nature to her. The numbers came easily, the equations made sense. And she had an instinct for what would make a business work that Japheth had always lacked. Their daet had been so very proud of Miriam’s ability...just not proud enough to leave her a proper inheritance.
“Japheth, I can’t apologize for who I am,” Miriam said. “I’m tired of doing that.”
Japheth rubbed a hand over his thinning hair. “Come to my office. Since you’re here, I need you to look at some ledgers for me. I can’t make sense of them.”
“Arleta needs help here,” Miriam said.
“She’s fine. Come on.” He started out of the room and Miriam cast her sister-in-law an apologetic look. “Your husband might not need your business sense, but right now I do.”
“I was hoping she could help me with that garden,” Arleta said, raising her voice after Japheth, and there was a tension in her voice that meant Japheth and Arleta had discussed this before.
“I will help you with it, Arleta,” Miriam said. “I’m sorry I didn’t help more before. I’ll do better. I’ll get started this evening, in fact.”
Maybe some hard work would help to distract her from her own heartbreak today.
Miriam followed her brother down the hallway to the office that used to be their father’s. She paused at the door as Japheth went inside. He moved easily around the room, confident in his new ownership, it seemed.
“How long has Arleta been upset with me?” Miriam asked.
“What?” Japheth shook his head. “She’s fine.”
“She’s not fine,” Miriam replied. “She’s angry.”
Japheth sighed. “You have to see that it wasn’t fair the way Daet treated you. If Daet had given me half the tutoring he gave you, I’d be more ready to do this.”
“He let you run a couple of businesses,” she countered.
“But he showed you how to run all of them at once,” her brother replied.
“I don’t think he expected to die so soon,” Miriam said.
“True.” Japheth met her gaze. “So we have to talk about this seriously. I know that Arleta wants your help around the house, but I’m going to need some help with running things until I get a better handle on all the properties.”
The prospect of staying involved with the business should spark some excitement in her. She paused, waiting to feel something, but she couldn’t quite summon up the enthusiasm. She was emotionally empty.
“Okay,” she said after a beat of silence.
“I’ll need you to show me what Daet taught you,” he said. “Maybe you could come around with me to the different properties. But don’t say anything in front of people. We’ll talk about it in the buggy.”
The same thing Amos had asked of her—help out, give her opinion and let the man look like the one who had thought of it all. When could she take the credit?
“I can do that,” she said. It didn’t matter, anyway.
“I can help you with the strip mall,” he added. “The renters might respond better to a man. Daet was pretty tough, and that kept things orderly.”
“I don’t need help with it,” she replied.
Japheth shrugged. “That’s fine. I wanted to take Arleta to see some of her family in Indiana. If you’ll be here, maybe you could take care of things with the businesses while we’re away. That would be helpful...”
Things would continue as they had with Daet. She’d pitch in, offer her advice, scan the ledgers for inaccuracies and look for ways to improve the efficiency. It had been exciting when Daet was alive—but helping her brother would be a different dynamic. She would no longer be the daughter learning, she’d be the sister teaching. This was a chance to prove herself, and if her brother would be willing to accept her input in the running of things, she could help to build the Schwartz legacy even further. Even if that legacy was almost entirely in her brother’s name.
And yet, it wasn’t quite as exciting anymore, and she couldn’t put her finger on why. Was it that she’d gotten a glimp
se of another life...one she thought she didn’t want...?
“Miriam?” Japheth said, softening his voice. “Are you okay?”
A tear had slipped down her cheek, and she hastily wiped it away. “Yah. I miss him...”
“Me, too. It’s not the same coming into this office and not having Daet tell me to stop messing with his filing system.” Japheth smiled sadly and put his hand on a stack of invoices yet to be filed.
But her brother had misunderstood. While she did miss Daet dearly, it was Amos her heart was aching for.
She’d known there would be a cost to staying in Redemption for as long as she did, and she was paying it now. Would she stop loving Amos over time, or would she just learn to live with this ache of loss? She wasn’t sure. But walking away from Amos this time was the hardest thing she’d ever done.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The visit with the adoption agent was more productive than Thomas had dared to hope, and Amos and Noah were incredibly happy for Thomas and Patience. If Mammi had only been able to see their prayer answered, because Thomas and Patience were adopting a little boy. The process had moved more quickly than any of them had expected, and tonight a two-year-old child was being introduced to his new, adoptive family for the first time.
Amos gave his horse a last stroke down his long nose before he headed out of Thomas Wiebe’s stable for the house.
There was a minivan in the drive, so it appeared that the adoption agent was still there. Thomas had asked Amos to come that evening and meet their new son, and he wondered if he should have come a little later...given the family more time alone before coming to say hello. He’d assumed that Noah would be there, too, and their mother, Rachel. But there were no extra buggies. Not yet at least. Maybe they were on their way.
Amos had had a lot of invitations to dinner over the last few days from families in their community. With Mammi’s passing, the community had pulled together to not only keep his kitchen stocked during his time of grief, but to make sure he wasn’t lonesome, either. But it wasn’t friends and extended family who he was missing most right now.
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