A Place of Peace (12 page)

His heart thumped in his chest as he strode over to Miriam. Standing on the opposite side of the long work counter, he watched her read the recipes. When she glanced up and met his gaze, her deep chocolate eyes widened, and she drew a sharp breath.

“Sorry,” he muttered, running his fingers over the wood counter his father had built more than twenty years ago. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

She bit her bottom lip and nodded, as if to say it was okay.

He cleared his throat, at a loss for words, and she watched him, hesitation clouding her eyes.

“I’m sorry about your mamm,” he finally said. “She was a nice
fraa.”

“Danki,”
she whispered, her voice still the sweet lilt he remembered.

“You look well.” He absently continued to trace his fingers over the counter.

She nodded. “You do too.”

The silence hung in the area between them like a dense fog.

“Timothy,” Naomi called while holding two large boxes, which he assumed were the whoopie pies his father had requested. “We better go. My
mamm
runs a tight ship. We’ve been gone close to an hour.”

“Ya,”
he said to Naomi. He turned back to Miriam, who eyed him with an anxious expression. He wished he could read her mind. He needed to know why she’d left. What had he done to make her leave him? Was it simply her yearning to experience the
English
world and follow her dream of being a nurse? Was it to pursue another man? Or was it something else —something he’d done wrong?

“Good-bye,” he told her.

She nodded without speaking.

He then crossed the kitchen to Naomi. After saying good-bye to his sisters and mother, he led Naomi to the buggy.

He stared out the windshield and contemplated Miriam while steering down Gibbons Road toward Highway 340. Anger mixed with regret flowed through him. He was angry with Beth Anne and his mother, since he couldn’t comprehend why they would consider hiring Miriam.

Unless it was part of Beth Anne’s plan to honor God’s will and help Timothy move on.

He groaned.

Elizabeth had won today, forcing him to talk to Miriam. However, she couldn’t force him to “work things out” when there wasn’t anything to work out. Miriam had left him—end of story.

“Timothy Kauffman, you’re going to answer me if it’s the last thing you do.” Naomi’s demand jerked him back to the present.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “What were you saying?”

“I was asking you to come to supper tomorrow night, but now I’m reconsidering my invitation.” She folded her arms across her chest in defiance. “You’ve got that same million-miles-away expression like you had at the funeral.”

Guilt nipped at him. He needed to treat Naomi better, but Miriam was a distraction over which he had no control. Now that he was with Naomi, he needed to shut off any thoughts of Miriam and concentrate only on Naomi.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Please repeat what you were saying about supper tomorrow night. What time would you like me there?”

For the first time since he’d known Naomi, she was silent.

And the silence was unnerving.

Something’s wrong.

He glanced over and found her staring out the window. “Naomi?”

Still no answer.

He reached for her, brushing her shoulder, but she moved away from his touch.

“Naomi,” he said. “I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you.”

Finally, she faced him, tears steaming down her face.

“Naomi?” He steered to the side of the road and halted the horse. “What’s wrong?”

“I figured it out.” Her voice quavered. “You love her!”

“What?” He shook his head, confused. “I love who?”

“Her!” She pointed in the direction of the bakery. “Miriam! You love her!”

“What?” His eyebrows knitted together. “You’re talking
narrisch.
I don’t love her.”

“Yes, you do!” She wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands. “Lilly told me who Miriam is. She broke up with you four years ago.” More tears spilled from her eyes. “It all makes sense now!” She gestured wildly for emphasis. “That’s why you stopped talking to me at the funeral and why you became quiet just now. Oh, I’m such a fool.” Burying her face in her hands, Naomi sobbed.

Timothy leaned over and rubbed her back. “It’s true that I did court her, but it’s also true that she left. I don’t love her, Naomi. I’m sorry I’ve been quiet. I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Ya,
you do—her!”

“No, that’s not true, Naomi.” He sighed, wishing he could take her pain away.

“Then why aren’t you courting me?”

He blanched, surprised by the direct question.

“My
mamm
says you’re leading me on and using me.” She cleared her throat. “I told her you were just taking your time. But after seeing how you behave around Miriam, I’m starting to agree with
Mamm.”
Her lip quivered and her eyes filled with more tears.

He swallowed a groan. Today was not the day for her to demand a declaration of his feelings for her. His heart was a mess after seeing Miriam. He had too much to comprehend. Figuring out his feelings for Naomi would only be the tip of the iceberg.

Taking a deep breath, he touched her face, wiping a tear from her cheek. Her expression softened at his touch.

“Naomi, I care deeply for you. You’ve been a dear and special
freind
to me.” He forced a smile. “I intend to treat you right. I’m just not ready to make any promises right now.”

“I won’t wait forever, Timothy. I’m not getting any younger, and I want
kinner.”

He nodded. “That’s fair. I just ask that you give me a little more time.”

She turned toward the windshield. “We better get back.
Mamm
will send out a search party for me.”

He flipped the reins and the horse came to life, clip-clopping down the road. Glancing over, he found Naomi still staring out the windshield. “Are you angry with me, Naomi?”

She shook her head.

“We’re still
freinden?”

“Ya,” she said, flashing him a coy smile.

Turning back toward the road, he frowned. He was going to give Beth Anne and his mother a piece of his mind as soon as he left work tonight.

T
imothy stalked up the stairs leading to his parents’ porch and marched into the kitchen, where he found his sisters and parents eating supper. Nieces and nephews raced around the kitchen, laughing and shrieking.

“Timothy!” his mother exclaimed. “I’m so glad you came in time for supper.”

“I’m not hungry,” he said, folding his arms in front of his chest. “I’d like to speak with you and Beth Anne—alone.”

Beth Anne shot Elizabeth an apprehensive look.

“What’s this about?” Sadie, his oldest brother’s wife, asked, her eyes wide with excitement. Timothy was certain Sadie hoped the subject would be worthy of gossip at her next quilting circle.

“Timothy wanted to discuss how we’d like the porch fixed at the bakery,” Elizabeth said, proving how fast she was on her toes.

Beth Anne’s lips formed a smile that she quickly shielded with her hand.

“Let’s go to the front porch,” Elizabeth said, steering Timothy through the den to the foyer. “That way we can talk without competing with the
kinner’s
voices.”

“I’m not going to miss this,” Kathryn muttered, shuffling in line behind Beth Anne.

Once Elizabeth and his sisters were seated in the porch chairs, he leaned back on the railing and glared at them.

“What were you thinking, Beth Anne?” he demanded, gesturing with his arms. “You know I’ve been trying for four years to put her out of my mind, and yet you parade her in front of me at the bakery. It doesn’t make sense. I spent all afternoon turning it over and over in my mind while I was working, and I can’t get any logic out of it. You need to keep your nose in your own relationships and stay out of my life.”

Beth Anne flinched and then glowered. “There’s plenty of logic in it, Timothy. You just said you’ve been trying for four years to get her out of your mind. It’s obvious you need help to do it, and speaking with her is the only solution.”

Frustrated, he rubbed his temple and groaned. “You don’t understand. Putting her in my face stirred it up all over again.”

“See, I was right.” Kathryn gave a smug smile and crossed her legs. “I told them not to, but those two"—she pointed between Elizabeth and Beth Anne—"never listen to me. They do their own thing, and look where it got them.”

“Timothy, you need to let go of this anger and let God sort through it for you,” Elizabeth said.

Lacing his fingers behind his head, Timothy swallowed a sigh. His mother had the strongest faith he’d ever known, but sometimes he wanted her to just keep it to herself. He’d prayed many, many times, asking for the Lord to unburden his soul, and yet, Miriam continued to haunt his dreams—both during the day and at night. Praying just wasn’t going to do it for him.

“You know what I always say, Timothy,” Elizabeth continued.

“'Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer,'” he replied, letting his hands drop to his sides. “I know,
Mamm,
I know.”

Elizabeth gave him a soft sigh of disappointment. “You say you know, and yet you still look at me as if I’m
narrisch.”

“I never said you were crazy.” He glanced across the field to where his youngest nieces and nephews were chasing each other. A rumble of thunder in the distance snapped his gaze to the sky, where dark clouds crept across the horizon. “I just need to work through this in my own way,” he said, turning back to her. “You can’t force me.”

Elizabeth nodded. “You’re right. However, Miriam is a good baker, and we need her help. She’s going to work there whether you and Kathryn like it or not.”

Kathryn shook her head. “I won’t like it.”

Beth Anne rolled her eyes. “You’re so immature. Sometimes I forget you’re my older sister.”

Timothy stood up straight and glanced down the driveway, where he spotted Sarah Rose, his younger sister, and her fiancé, Luke, walking slowly up the driveway holding her seven-month-old twins. Sarah Rose stopped, turned to her fiancé, and gave him a loving smile.

Seeing that tender moment caused something deep in Timothy’s soul to somersault.

Maybe they’re right. Maybe I do need to talk to Miriam—face-to-face—and find out the truth.

“I need to go.” He loped down the stairs and headed for his buggy.

“Where are you going?” Beth Anne called after him.

Ignoring the question, he increased his speed, not stopping to greet Sarah Rose and her family.

Miriam moved back and forth on the porch swing while clutching a cool glass of water and watching the ominous clouds creep across the sky. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

Taking a sip of water, she reflected on her first day of work. Overall, the day had gone well, and when Edna asked if she had liked it, Miriam had to admit that she had. She’d enjoyed making the traditional dishes. Some were her favorites, and some were new. Elizabeth, Beth Anne, and the children had made Miriam feel welcome with their smiles and their compliments on her baking.

Her only negative experience was connected with Kathryn and her disapproving looks. It was obvious Kathryn blamed her for the breakup with Timothy, and Miriam wished she could convince Kathryn that it wasn’t that simple. While Miriam had wanted to experience the
English
world, she also left because Timothy had broken her heart. It seemed that Kathryn had the scenario backward if she blamed Miriam for hurting Timothy.

But that wasn’t the end of Miriam’s emotional day. There was also her pointless conversation with Timothy. Why had she turned to gelatin when he tried to speak with her? Her throat had gone dry as soon as she met his gaze, and her hands had shaken like leaves in a tornado. She wished she’d felt confident enough to ask him why he’d left her. She wished she’d shared what was on her mind and in her heart, but she’d stared at him blankly and spoken like a child.

The clip-clop of hooves drew Miriam’s attention to the end of the dirt lane. A buggy she didn’t recognize bounced toward the cabin.

Standing, Miriam set her glass on the small table next to the swing and then cracked open the front door.
“Aenti,”
she called. “Are you expecting company?”

“No, dear,” Edna replied from the bedroom. “I’m going to bathe and head to bed. If it’s for me, tell them I’m sleeping.”

Miriam smiled and shook her head. When Edna decided she was done for the evening, there were no discussions.

The horse and buggy steered up to the cabin, stopping near her Honda. Assuming the visitor was Zach, showing off one of his new buggy designs, Miriam stood at the railing while the driver wrenched the door open and unfolded his lean body from the seat. However, the man appeared to be too tall, and his hair was too blond to be Zach’s.

When he turned and faced her, Miriam’s mouth gaped in response to finding Timothy’s piercing blue eyes focused on her. He gave a slight smile and then tied the horse to the hitching post.

She absently smoothed her frock and then touched her
kapp,
making certain it was straight and her hair was neat. Shaking her head, she wondered why she was so worried about her appearance when her looks didn’t seem to matter to him four years ago.

Timothy made his way to the bottom of the stairs, and she took a deep breath, hoping her voice wouldn’t sound timid and her throat wouldn’t dry as it had been when he came to the bakery earlier.

“Wie geht’s,”
he said, leaning on the railing at the bottom of the steps. “May I visit with you?”

“
Ya.
” She made a sweeping gesture toward the porch chairs. “Would you like a glass of water?”

“Danki.
That sounds nice.” He gave her his electric smile, the genuine one she remembered from long ago, and her knees wobbled in response.

“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.” Her heart thumping in her chest, Miriam rushed into the kitchen and filled a glass with ice and water.

When she returned to the porch, Timothy was seated in the chair next to the swing, turning his straw hat around in his hands like a Frisbee. When his eyes met hers, he popped the hat back onto his head.