A Merry Heart (24 page)

Miriam, wearing a navy blue dress draped with a white cape and apron, grew more anxious by the moment as she sat rigidly in her seat, waiting to become Mrs. Amos Hilty. She glanced across the room where Amos sat straight and tall, wearing a white shirt, black trousers, and a matching vest and jacket. Did he feel as nervous as she did about this marriage? Was he having second thoughts, too? His stoic expression gave no indication as to what he might be thinking.

Should I have accepted Nick’s proposal? Maybe I would have been happier being married to him.
Miriam mentally shook herself. She wasn’t marrying Amos so she could be happy.
She was doing it for Mary Ellen, so the child would have a mother and so that Miriam would have a home. Things wouldn’t have worked out between her and Nick. Besides, she didn’t love him, nor did he love her. The feelings she’d had for him had only been a silly attraction, and she would never have risked hurting her family or being shunned just to satisfy a need for affection or even a home. By marrying Amos, she would be gaining a daughter, and she wouldn’t have to give up her family or the only way of life she had ever known.

The wedding ceremony, which was similar to a regular Sunday preaching service, began at 8:30 a.m. Miriam did all right during the first part of the service, but as the time drew closer for her and Amos to stand before the bishop and say their vows, she became increasingly apprehensive. Miriam knew that both men and women of the Amish faith took their wedding vows seriously. Divorce would not be an acceptable option if things didn’t go well between her and Amos. Married couples were expected to work out their problems and, above all else, remain true to the vows they had spoken before God and man.

Though Miriam’s intent was to remain married to Amos until death parted them, it would not be easy for her to promise to love him. She was sure she would never feel anything more than mutual respect for Amos, but for Mary Ellen’s sake, she would go through with the wedding. No one but Miriam and Amos, and perhaps Crystal, would know this was not a marriage based on love. No one need know the reasons behind her decision to marry him.

When it was time for Miriam and Amos to stand before
the bishop, she pushed her nagging doubts to the back of her mind and took her place beside her groom.

If Bishop Benner knew about my lack of faith in God and the circumstances of my marriage to Amos, I’m sure he would never have agreed to perform the ceremony
, she thought as a lump formed in her throat.

“Brother,” the bishop said, looking at Amos, “can you confess that you accept this our sister as your wife, and that you will not leave her until death separates you? And do you believe that this is from the Lord and that you have come thus far by your faith and prayers?”

With only a slight hesitation, Amos answered, “Jah.”

Bishop Benner then directed his words to Miriam. “Can you confess, sister, that you accept this our brother as your husband, and that you will not leave him until death separates you? And do you believe that this is from the Lord and that you have come thus far by your faith and prayers?”

Miriam cringed inside because of her deception, but in a clear voice, she answered, “Jah.”

The bishop spoke to Amos again. “Because you have con-fessed that you want to take this our sister for your wife, do you promise to be loyal to her and care for her if she may have adversity, affliction, sickness, or weakness, as is appropriate for a Christian, God-fearing husband?”

“Jah.”

Bishop Benner addressed the same question to Miriam, and she, too, replied affirmatively. He then took Miriam’s right hand and placed it in Amos’s right hand, putting his own hands above and beneath their hands. Offering a blessing, he said, “The God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and
the God of Jacob be with you together and give His rich blessing upon you and be merciful to you. To this I wish you the blessings of God for a good beginning, and may you hold out until a blessed end. Through Jesus Christ our Lord, amen.”

At the end of the blessing, Miriam, Amos, and Bishop Benner bowed their knees in prayer. When they stood, he said, “Go forth in the name of the Lord. You are now man and wife.”

Amos and Miriam returned to their respective seats, and one of the ordained ministers gave a testimony, followed by two other ministers expressing agreement with the sermon and wishing Amos and Miriam God’s blessings.

When that was done, the bishop made a few closing comments and asked the congregation to kneel, at which time he read a prayer from the prayer book. Then the congregation rose to their feet, and the meeting was closed with a final hymn.

Miriam clenched her fingers as she blinked against stinging tears. It was done. There was no going back. She was now Amos’s Miriam and would remain so until the day they were separated by death.

As several men began to set up tables for the wedding meal, Amos stole a glance at Miriam’s three brothers, who stood off to one side, talking and laughing like this was a most joyous occasion.

And it should be
, Amos thought painfully as he reflected on the somber expression he’d seen on his bride’s face as
they had each responded to the bishop’s questions during their wedding vows. For many years before Amos had married Ruth, he had wished that Miriam could be his wife. Now that it had finally happened, it seemed bittersweet, for he knew she had only married him because of Mary Ellen’s need for a mother, not because she felt any love for him.

Amos clenched his fingers until his nails bit into the palms of his hands.
Dear Lord, what have I done? I’ve married a woman who will never fully be my wife. I’ve given my word that I won’t put any physical demands on her, and since we won’t have an intimate relationship, we’ll never have any kinner of our own. Miriam doesn’t love me, and short of a miracle, she probably never will.

M
iriam had only been living in Amos’s house a few days, and already he wondered if he had made the biggest mistake of his life. Since today was an off-Sunday and there would be no preaching services, he hoped they could use this time together to discuss a few things concerning their marriage.

Mary Ellen, who was playing on the kitchen floor with her kitten, looked up at Miriam and smiled. “I’m glad you’ve come to live with Pappy and me. Can I call you Mama Mim from now on?”

Miriam smiled at the child. “If you like.”

Amos’s chair scraped against the linoleum as he pushed it away from the table and stood. He went over to the stove and removed the coffeepot, deciding that now might be a good time to say what was on his mind. “Mary Ellen, would you please go upstairs and play for a while?”

“Can I play outside on the porch instead?”

“Jah.”

Mary Ellen looked at him with questioning eyes. “You and Mama Mim want to be alone, don’t you, Pappy?”

If only that were true. I’m sure the last thing Miriam wants is to be alone with me
.

“Miriam and I need to talk,” he said, nodding at the child. “If the rain stops, maybe we’ll go for a picnic at the lake later on.”

“Really, Pappy? I love picnics!” Mary Ellen scooped the fluffy kitten into her arms and headed for the back door.

“Don’t forget your jacket,” Miriam called to her. “Since it’s still raining, be sure you stay on the porch.”

Mary Ellen grabbed her jacket from a low-hanging wall peg and bounded out the door.

“Do you think it was a good idea to get her excited about a picnic when it may not stop raining?” Miriam asked, turning to look at Amos with a frown.

“We’ll see how it goes,” he mumbled as he placed the coffeepot on the table.

She stood. “Well, I have dishes to do.”

“Please, stay seated awhile. We need to discuss a few things.”

She gave him a brief nod and sat down.

Amos poured coffee for them both and took the chair across from her. “I–I’m not sure what you believe about our marriage, but I want you to know that I. . .well, I think God brought us together.” He wanted desperately to reach out and caress Miriam’s cheek. Instead, he grabbed hold of the coffee mug and took a sip.

She opened her mouth as if to respond, but he held up one hand to silence her, knowing he needed to get this said while he had the chance and before he lost his nerve.

“I also think God will bless our marriage if we’re faithful
to Him and to one another.”

“I’ll be faithful to our vows, Amos. Divorce will never be an option for me.”

“Nor for me.” He took another sip from his cup as he searched for the right words. “I know we have many adjustments to make, and some of them might take some getting used to on both our parts.”

Miriam blew on her coffee. “You’re right about that.”

“As I’m sure you know, the Bible teaches us in Ephesians 5:23 that the man is to be the head of the house, just as Christ is the head of the church.” Amos paused to gauge her reaction, but she just stared at the table. “So, while I may want to consult with you on certain matters,” he continued, “I believe that the final decisions should always be made by me.”

Miriam looked up and stared at him with her forehead wrinkled and her lips compressed. After a moment, she asked, “Are you saying that I must do whatever you tell me to do?”

“No, it’s just that I need to know that you respect my opinion, and I—I have a need to—to be able to touch you, Miriam.” Amos tentatively reached for her hand, but she quickly pulled it away as soon as his fingers made contact with her skin, as though repulsed by his touch.

“You—you promised our marriage wouldn’t have to be a physical one. Are you going back on your word now, Amos?”

“No. No, I’m not.” He pushed away from the table and began pacing the floor, wishing he could somehow ask or even insist that she be his wife in every respect, knowing that he couldn’t. “I will keep true to my word, Miriam. We’ll continue to sleep in separate rooms just as we’ve done since our wedding night.”

“I—I appreciate that,” she murmured, staring down at the table again.

Amos cringed as he reflected on their wedding night. It certainly hadn’t gone the way he would have liked, but a promise was a promise, and he wouldn’t go back on it no matter how much he wanted to make Miriam his wife in every sense of the word. He knew that if he was ever to win her heart, he would have to remain honest and trustworthy. And he must remember never to try to touch her again unless she let him know first that it was what she wanted.

Miriam sat silently as Amos paced back and forth across the kitchen floor, his face red and his breathing heavy. “Was there anything else you wanted to talk to me about?”

He gave a quick nod and returned to the table. “Jah. I have some things to say about Mary Ellen.”

“What about her?”

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t mother my daughter so much.”

“What? I thought that’s why you agreed to marry me—so she would have a mudder.”

Amos pulled his fingers through the end of his beard. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t be like a mother to her. I just don’t think she needs smothering.”

“Smothering? How am I smothering the child?”

“Making her put on a jacket when it’s warm outside and reminding her to stay on the porch.”

“But it’s raining, Amos. Surely you don’t want your daughter to be outside playing in the rain.”

He took a long drink from his cup. “I played in the rain a lot when I was boy, and it never did me any harm.”

Miriam clasped her fingers tightly around her mug to keep them from shaking. She could hardly believe they were having this conversation. “I’m only concerned for her well-being. It may still be summer, but it’s kind of nippy outside this morning.”

“If I thought my daughter needed to put on her jacket or stay on the porch, don’t you think I would have said something?”

She pursed her lips. “Maybe so. Maybe not.”

He gave his beard a quick pull. “I–I’m sorry if I upset you. It’s just that I’ve been Mary Ellen’s only parent for a year now, and—”

“If you didn’t think Mary Ellen needed a woman’s care, then why did you marry me?”

“Because I—” Amos broke off in mid-sentence, pushed his chair aside, and stood. He tromped across the room, snatched his straw hat from the wall peg, and went out the back door, letting it slam shut.

Miriam’s throat constricted, and a tight sob threatened to escape her lips. In an effort to regain control of her emotions, she dropped her head into her hands and squeezed her eyes shut.
Being married is nothing like I imagined it would be when I thought William was going to marry me
.

So far nothing had gone right—from the wedding ceremony, where she had made promises she wasn’t sure she could keep, to their wedding night, when she had slept alone in the room next to Amos’s.

After tucking Mary Ellen into her own bed that evening,
Miriam had slipped quietly into the bedroom across the hall. For some time after she’d crawled into bed, she had heard Amos moving about in his own room next door. She had lain awake for most of the night, worrying that he might change his mind and come to her room, and wondering if she’d made the biggest mistake of her life by agreeing to marry him.