A Promise for Miriam (14 page)

“Nope. Can’t feed it oats or cover it with a blanket. I suspect it’ll be fine where I left it.” As each team came in, the plan had been for Gabe to send them back out again, but so many men had shown up that it was no longer necessary. They had covered every route on his map—covered some twice.

The men’s faces were somber.

The baking Miriam, Ida, and Eva had done smelled
wunderbaar.
Yes, Gabe had learned their names. He’d even heard some of their conversation, though the words had only flowed over him, making no impression—just background noise to his nightmare. Now he noticed that the conversations around him had dropped to low murmurs and no one was eating.

There seemed to be nothing to say. And certainly no one had an appetite.

Glancing at the clock, he saw the time was pushing on toward three in the morning.

Officer Tate hadn’t said it, didn’t need to, but they both knew the truth. With each hour that passed the odds of Grace’s surviving were less.

Then three things happened nearly simultaneously.

A dog barked. Miriam’s eyes met his. And he heard someone say Grace’s name.

Standing so quickly he knocked his chair over, Gabe rushed through the crowd of men gathered in his kitchen, who parted for him like wheat parted for driving rain.

He was at the back door the same moment that Noah and Aden appeared out of the darkness. Pepper pushed his way between them, and Noah carried Grace, bundled in a blanket, her arms around his neck.

Gabe had never seen anything more beautiful in all of his life than his daughter’s face. Her nose and forehead were reddened from the cold, and he thought her cheeks might be frostbitten. Brown hair, matted and somewhat wet, tumbled out of her
kapp.
Tired eyes blinked once and then again.

Gabe had to reach for the wall when his knees threatened to buckle out from underneath him.

Grace had looked sleepy as Noah had approached the door, but when she saw her father’s face, her head snapped up. Her mouth formed a small O, and her arms came out.

He bridged the distance between them in a second, in less time than it took all of the fear in his heart to flee, and he caught her up in his arms. The room around him went silent. The moment froze as though every person was caught up in that heartbeat of grace.

Then they were all talking at once. He heard men slapping one another on the back. The women put food on the table, and this time there were plenty of takers.

“Bring her closer to the fire, Gabe.” Miriam worked another blanket around Grace’s shoulders. “Let Eva have a look at her.”

Pepper barked again as Gabe moved with his daughter out of the mudroom.

“Can the dog come in?” Aden asked.

Grace’s arms tightened around Gabe’s neck, so he nodded yes. He’d never abided animals in the house, but he knew this time was different. He knew, without hearing the story, that somehow Pepper had brought Grace home.

Miriam suddenly wanted to walk away from the kitchen, crawl into her buggy, and go home. She did not want to see the naked look of joy and gratitude on Gabe Miller’s face. It was more than she could bear.

Maybe it was fatigue.

Maybe it was her worry over the girl. Had she honestly begun to doubt that God would protect her?

Maybe it was the women’s teasing over Aden, and the knowledge in her heart that he was a good man. Maybe it was the confusion that came with that knowledge.

Whatever it was, she didn’t know what to do when Gabe stared at her with such thankfulness. She certainly didn’t know how to react to such adoration as she saw when he looked at Grace. She was accustomed to seeing parents who were proud of their children, even parents who were sometimes disappointed or angry with their children. And she’d been to the funerals of parents who had lost their children.

Somehow, Grace Miller had wound her way into Miriam’s heart. Perhaps because she presented such a unique challenge. Or because of her dark eyes, winning smile, and talent with a drawing pencil. Or because she was motherless. What woman’s heart didn’t open up for a motherless child?

She knew, though, as Eva checked Grace, applied salve to her frostbite, and pronounced her in “remarkably
gut
shape,” that she needed to keep her distance. She needed to be objective and treat all students the same. And she did not need to respond to the looks she was receiving from Grace’s father.

Things were safer when he treated her as though she had a contagious disease.

The glances he was sending her way now—well, they made no sense. It wasn’t as though she’d been out in the snow looking for the girl.

“Eva, do you need me to go after the doc?” Officer Tate held his open Thermos in one hand and a hot biscuit in the other.

“No. She has good circulation in her fingers and toes, and surprisingly there are no blisters on her cheeks. The snow cave they found her in must have protected her from the worst of the cold.” Eva glanced up at the men. “
Gotte
was watching over this one. I think she’s all right. I’ll write out some instructions.”

Miriam closed her eyes and began giving her thanks to God even as Eva continued speaking.

“I’ve already written out directions to Doc Hanson and the closest medical center if her pain worsens. And I brought aloe vera cream and ibuprofen with me, which I’ll leave. Gabe, if you see any signs of infection, you take her straight into town.”

“
Ya
, of course I will.”

“But I think she’s going to be fine.”

“Good to hear.” Tate squatted down in front of Grace. “You’re one lucky little girl. I suppose you had angels watching out over you.”

Grace nodded and then reached for Pepper, who was resting under her chair. She had already made sure Stanley was safe and secure back in his box.

“Angels and one very smart hunting dog. You be careful and get lots of rest. Okay?”

Grace nodded, her eyes round and blanket pulled tight.

“
Danki
, Officer.” Gabe reached out and shook hands with Tate.

“You’re very welcome. I’ll be seeing you at the school Christmas special. Miriam always invites me.”

Miriam finished wiping clean the last dish and handed the officer a half loaf of bread wrapped up to go.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Jack said, grinning. “But I’m not going to be rude and turn it down.”

“We were worried. We bake too much when we’re worried.”

“I’m happy to take it off your hands.”

She again met Gabe’s eyes as the officer turned and walked out of the house. The rest of the men were gathering their supplies and heading home, each stopping to say a word to Gabe and Grace.

She checked the kitchen once more to be sure everything was in place, and then she put her own supplies into her bag. She’d ride home with Simon, and suddenly she was bone tired. The thought of her bed and snuggling beneath her quilts was enough to propel her outside into the snow to brave the cold trip through the dark night.

“I’d like to talk to you before you go.” Gabe’s voice in her ear nearly caused her to drop her bag of supplies. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No. You didn’t,” she hedged, pulling on her gloves. “It’s only that I’m tired and didn’t hear you come up. I thought you were with Grace.”

“She’s in her bed. Eva is checking on her one last time.”

“That’s
gut
. Eva, she’s
wunderbaar
with the young ones. She’ll be able to tell you exactly what to do.”

“I wanted to talk to you about that.” Gabe ran a hand around the back of his neck, and Miriam was struck again by how much of a toll the evening had taken on him. “First I need to apologize.”

“Of course you don’t—”

“I do, and I need to do it now while the sting of my arrogance is fresh.”

“What do you mean—”

“If I had listened to you earlier, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. If I had been working with Grace and insisting she learn to speak again, then she might have been able to call out for help.” Gabe walked over to the counter and picked up a plate of biscuits wrapped in a dish towel. He held it in one hand, as if he were weighing it.

He held it, as if he were waiting for her to speak.

“You can’t possibly blame yourself for what happened tonight,” Miriam said, but she could tell he wasn’t listening.

He set the plate on the counter, carefully, as if it might shatter.

She kept talking, faster now, reaching for words that might break through his thick skull. “Listen to me, Gabe. I know I’m young. I know I don’t know what you know about children.”

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

“You were right, but I do understand that you can’t keep an eye on them all the time. It’s impossible. Even a well-behaved child like Grace will have mishaps. Everyone saw the guide rope you had from the house to the outhouse. You did all you could.”

“But if she could talk. If she’d been able to call out for help—” he stopped abruptly, and then he turned his piercing brown eyes on her. “You do still believe she can speak?”

Miriam hesitated, not wanting to add to his burden, but she was unable to lie. “Yes.”

“It’s settled, then.”

“What’s settled?”

“You figure out what we need to do and let me know.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“I don’t know.” Again the fatigue, the hand across the back of his neck.

Simon stuck his head into the kitchen, nodded at Gabe, and offered to help Miriam with her bag.

“No, I’ve got it.”

“All right. I’m ready to leave when you are.”

Eva came through then, holding up a sheet of handwritten instructions she wanted to go over with Gabe one more time.

When they were alone again, he stepped closer to Miriam and lowered his voice. “How about you send a note home in her lunch box next week? When you figure out what we should do next.”

“And you’ll read the note this time?” Miriam regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth.

To her surprise, Gabe smiled, touched her elbow, and turned her toward the mudroom. “
Ya
. I’ll read the notes this time. I’ll even send one back. Together, maybe we can find a way to help my
dochder
speak.”

Chapter 18

M
iriam wasn’t sure what she expected Monday morning.

She knew she was glad to be back at school. Three-day weekends were nice, but the last three days had not been normal by any means. After the long night spent searching for Grace, she’d slept a few hours late Saturday.

But in all honesty, she’d kept herself busy most of the day and weekend, trying to make some sense of her conflicting emotions. The conversation with her mother, though, kept playing through her mind even as she prepared for classes early Monday morning.

“Shouldn’t you be happy he’s willing to help the child?” her mother had asked as they’d changed sheets on beds and given the house a good cleaning. Laundry would take all day Monday, so they did everything else they could on Saturday.

“I am happy. Of course.”

“Except…”

“Except when I first made the suggestion, I didn’t have a particular plan of action in mind.”

“So…” her mother snapped a clean sheet across the large bed she and her father shared.

Miriam caught the end and tucked it neatly into her side. “So now I don’t want to let him down.” She paused and corrected herself. “I don’t want to let Grace down. She’s been through a lot, and this will no doubt be hard for her.”

“She’s a beautiful child,” Abigail said as she slid fresh cases over the pillows on her side.

“Yes, but I’ve never dealt with this sort of situation before,
mamm
.” Miriam pulled the blankets and quilt up—a double Light in the Valley pattern her mother had sewn when she was younger than Miriam was now. It had stood the test of time. The stitches were sturdy, like the marriage Abigail had envisioned as a girl. Both the quilt and the love she shared with Joshua had nurtured a family of four children and twelve grandchildren.

Miriam plopped down on the bed and tried to wrap her mind around that idea. Would she ever know that kind of love?

Abigail walked around the bed, sat beside her, and placed her hand on her back. Together they looked out the window and over the tremendous amounts of snow that had threatened Grace only a few hours before. In the day’s sunlight, the snowdrifts held no danger. The path from any building back to the house was clear. But in the darkness, the cold and the snow could pose many problems, especially for a small child.

“Is that what’s bothering you? Your inexperience?” Abigail reached out and took Miriam’s hand in hers.

“Yes. No. I’m not sure.”

“You realize God has put you in Grace’s life for a reason.”

Miriam felt heat rush to her cheeks. She was surprised to see a look of amusement on her mother’s face.

“But—”

“But what? God uses each of us in different ways. He uses you with the younger children as He uses Esther with the older ones.”

“Teaching is one thing. This is another. I don’t know what she went through with her mother’s passing. I don’t know why she stopped talking or even when, exactly. I don’t know how—”