A Promise for Miriam (36 page)

Had Grace told Gabe what she’d heard? What had she heard?

Miriam thought to go and ask Gabe. It certainly was past time to straighten this out while they had the chance, but then the crowd came between them. Esther and Joshua began talking at once. When she looked for them again, Gabe and Grace were gone.

Gabe walked up to the schoolhouse on Thursday evening more than a little self-conscious in his Sunday clothes. What do you wear when both teachers are cooking you dinner?

He’d received a note in Grace’s lunch box. Yes, he checked it every night now. The note asked him if Thursday would be agreeable to collect on his prize for winning the woodchopping contest and suggested he take Grace to stay with Abigail.

Interesting. Adults only?

Because he’d already picked up the donkey he’d won, he figured he might as well get this over with. No doubt it would be awkward for all of them, but he couldn’t think of any way out of it.

What had he been thinking?

He hadn’t been. He’d seen Aden walk up to the block, he’d remembered Grace say that Miriam and Aden had been fighting, and he’d simply reacted. That was usually not a good thing where he was concerned.

And, yes, he’d spoken with Aden afterward, but only for a moment. Aden had been in a hurry to catch his ride back to his district. The conversation had cleared up one thing and muddied another.

“Gabe, perfect timing.” Esther opened the door of the schoolhouse for him.

He stepped inside and was surprised to see they had moved things around some. Several of the desks were pushed out of the way and Miriam’s desk was covered with a dining cloth. It had also been pulled closer to the stove near the front of the room. Two chairs were positioned on opposite sides. Only two?

“
Danki
for having me.”

“You won fair and square. We were happy to do our part to help in the benefit.” Esther’s eyes practically danced as she motioned him to the front of the room. “Miriam has been cooking since the
kinner
left. I’ll go and see if there’s anything I can do to help.”

She vanished up the stairs before Gabe could ask any questions.

He stood by the chair but didn’t sit. Glancing around the room, he noticed the students’ drawings fastened to some string that bordered one wall. It was easy enough to pick out Grace’s. The children’s abilities varied from a crude drawing, as he would do, to the most detailed and sophisticated—his daughter’s.

Had her drawing grown out of her time of silence? Or was it a gift from God?

“Grace is a talented artist,” Miriam said, walking up behind him.

“I didn’t hear you come downstairs.” He turned, not realizing how close she was, and found himself inches from those beautiful eyes. Something inside of him twisted, and he admitted to himself, maybe for the first time, that he might be ready to move on with his life.

Would Hope want him to do that?

They had talked of it, at the end, but they hadn’t talked of when. They hadn’t talked of how.

A fist closed around his throat. He shook his head and turned back to the drawing.

“She is,” Miriam insisted, misunderstanding his reaction. “I’ve seen many students come through this room with many different talents. Grace’s gift is in the way she sees things and then her ability to translate that to pencil on paper.”

“
Danki
.”

“It wasn’t a compliment, Gabe. It was my opinion.” She had put a hand on his arm while she was talking, but now she pulled it back and motioned toward the desk. “Shall we sit?”

“
Ya
. I’m starving.”

Her laugh surprised him. He put a hand to his hair to check that it wasn’t sticking up from where his hat had been. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time his appearance had made someone laugh.

“I’m not laughing at you,” Miriam assured him. “It was something else—”

“Go on.” He pulled out her chair for her before walking around the desk and sitting down.

“When you said you were starving, it reminded me of something my
mamm
is fond of saying.” She blushed but continued. “‘No woman can be happy with less than seven to cook for.’”

“I’ve heard that one too.”

“I suspect your Hope enjoyed cooking for you. It seems you always have a healthy appetite.”

Gabe took a long drink from his glass of water, allowing himself time to think how best to answer. “
Ya
. She used to say we’d have to watch my waistline, that by the time I became a
grossdaddi
I would be needing sturdy suspenders.”

Miriam fiddled with her silverware, her eyes everywhere but on him.

“I think maybe Hope was like Abigail,” Gabe added. “Like your
mamm
, she wanted her dinner table to be full. She wanted a big family with lots of sons.”

“Is that what you wanted?” Now she was looking directly at him.

“
Ya
, I suppose so. But boys or girls made no difference to me.” He shifted in the chair. “Now, after Grace, I think anything will be easy, though I’ve heard twins are hard.”

Miriam’s eyebrows shot up. She started to speak, but then she stopped herself, so Gabe helped her.

“I’m not that old, Miriam. I do still think about having other children. It’s what Hope would have wanted. And she would want Grace to have a
mamm
.”

At that interesting moment Esther brought them dinner and then excused herself, claiming she’d already eaten. They bowed their heads for a moment of silent prayer and then started in on the meal of chicken casserole, salad, and fresh bread.

Gabe thought about ignoring the look on Miriam’s face, but then he decided it was best to put their concerns on the table. “You look worried over there.”

She set her fork down. “So you have considered marrying again?”

When he didn’t answer right away, she continued. “I don’t mean to be bold…”

“It’s all right, Miriam. We’re
freinden
.”

She had been staring out the window but glanced at him sharply at the word
freinden
. “It’s only that you’ve told me three years have passed since Hope’s death.”

“
Ya
.”

“Most men would have already remarried.”

“Perhaps.”

“And some men don’t remarry at all—like Bishop Beiler.”

Gabe nodded as he finished the casserole and reached for another piece of bread. It had occurred to him that he didn’t wish to arrive at old age alone and stern as it seemed Jacob Beiler was. He wanted a woman in his life. He wanted the love and the laughter a wife brought. And he wanted more children.

“Perhaps it took me longer to feel that Grace and I were ready to move on, or perhaps…” he set his empty plate aside and folded his arms on the desk, leaning forward a bit so he could study her eyes, her expression…everything about her. “Perhaps I was waiting to meet the right person.”

The color came into her cheeks slowly and her eyes widened, but she never took her gaze from his.

“And now you have?”

“Possibly.”

Esther interrupted them with dessert—shoofly pie.

“My favorite. Are you sure you won’t join us?” Gabe asked as he accepted the coffee she also offered.

“Oh, no.
Danki
, but I had some earlier. I couldn’t resist. Right now I’m grading papers. I can’t believe there are so many of them.”

“It seems wrong to let you wait on us.”

“No. That’s my part of the prize.” She smiled at Miriam. “I didn’t do any of the cooking.”

“You cooked all of this, Miriam?”

Miriam nodded and pushed her fork through her pie.

“It’s excellent.”

He thought he saw Esther wink at Miriam as she scooted away. Could be this was a setup, but he wasn’t sure. There was one thing he was sure about, one thing he needed to make clear, and it had been weighing on his heart since his talk with Aden.

“Miriam, I spoke to Aden.”

Her fork clattered onto her plate. “About?”

“It wasn’t about you. He wouldn’t say a word about you, not that I didn’t try.” Why a smile spread over her face, he wasn’t sure. “The man clammed up like he had the toothache. But he did talk to me about the Amish community he works in, and I have to say—it sounds closer to the type of community we had in Indiana.”

“Are you thinking of moving?”

“Me? No. I don’t want to uproot Grace again.”

“Then why—”

“Miriam, before you make any decisions about…” Gabe reached across the desk and claimed one of her hands as she began to fidget. “About how you think you want to spend the rest of your life, you owe it to yourself to at least consider the alternative.”

“With Aden Schmucker?” She flung the words at him.

“I don’t know.” Gabe pulled in a deep breath and then said the words that had been weighing on him since the auction, perhaps much longer than that. “I do know that before I ask someone to be my
fraa
, I want her to be very sure she has considered all of her options. I want her to be sure she knows her heart. I want there to be no place left for doubt.”

Chapter 44

M
iriam didn’t speak directly to Gabe as they waited to enter the public meeting in downtown Cashton.

She’d mulled his words over and over in her mind for the last six days. At first they had made her angry. She was so tired of people trying to tell her what was best for her future. Then she’d remember the tender look in his eyes and the way he’d leaned forward in earnest. She’d thought about the soft touch of his hand as he’d stood, thanked her for the dinner, and walked out into the cold evening.

Eventually her anger had melted away, leaving only confusion.

The weather hadn’t helped. It had done nothing but snow since their dinner.

Cold, gray January days. Perhaps they were to blame for her mood.

Or perhaps she knew, deep in her heart, that he might have had a valid point, that she should at least consider both sides before making her decision.

“Big crowd,” Eli muttered.

“More than I expected.” Miriam smiled an apology as she bumped up against Gabe.

He caught her arm to keep her from slipping on the icy pavement. “Samuel’s standing at the back. It looks as though he saved some seats.”

Indeed, he was easy to spot with his Amish hat standing out amid the baseball caps and his customary scowl plastered on his face.

“Been here for an hour.
Gut
thing I came early. Never seen so many people interested in a new hotel.”

“Technically it won’t be a hotel any longer when—”

Samuel waved off Eli’s comments. “The village president woman is about to begin.”

Gabe took the first seat, next to Samuel. Miriam sat next to Gabe, and Eli took the last seat.

She tried to focus on the people at the front of the room and not on how close she was seated beside Gabe. He brushed his hand against her as he removed his coat.

“Sorry,” he murmured.

“No problem.”

His eyes met hers, and she had the craziest notion that he was going to reach up and straighten her
kapp
, push her hair back into place, or touch her face. Her heart beat faster, and she moistened her lips.

“I want to thank you all for coming. My name is Janice Goodland, and as most of you know, I’m the village president. I’d like to introduce the board to you, in case we have any newcomers.”

Miriam pulled her eyes away from Gabe and toward the speaker.

The woman stood on a stage that was elevated about a foot above the rest of the room. Several others were on the stage with her, but it was plain she was in charge. In her forties and thin, with short black hair, she looked to be very serious about the meeting. Miriam had been so busy studying Mrs. Goodland that she’d missed most of what the president had said.

Sitting up straighter, she inwardly vowed to concentrate.

“We’re here tonight to provide information about the renovation of the old hotel in the downtown area.”

“Don’t need information,” an old man from the back hollered. “Need a job.”

Several folks murmured in agreement.

“We will have a handout regarding possible employment, but first let’s watch the presentation Mr. Drake has sent.”

What followed was a short video highlighting other projects Chester Entertainment had completed in the last ten years. Miriam noted that none of them involved Amish communities.

Before the lights had even come back on, a woman seated two rows in front of them stood up. “I’m a single mom, and I have a job, but that old hotel is a danger. I can’t be watching my boys all the time, and twice last year they got to playing around that building. One of my sons hurt himself on broken glass. If you ask me, one less deserted building is a good thing for Cashton.”

Again there were murmurs of agreement.

“I vote we tell Mr. Drake to get started. What’s he waiting for?” This was from a middle-aged man in a white dress shirt and charcoal-colored slacks. He looked vaguely familiar to Miriam. “The sooner the hotel opens, the more people I’ll have frequenting my bank.”

That would be why she knew him. As a girl, she’d accompanied her father a few times to the bank when he had business to take care of.