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Authors: Jerry S. Eicher

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M
iriam closed the schoolhouse door and stepped out into the light dusting of snow swirling around the corner of the building. The wind pulled on her scarf. Winter had decided to make an appearance just in time for the first day of school after the Christmas recess. The chill cut through her dress, and Miriam pulled the thin coat she had grabbed this morning tighter around her shoulder. Tomorrow she would have to wear warmer clothing.

A few of the
Englisha
houses in the distance still twinkled with their Christmas lights in the front windows, but none of the cheer reached Miriam. Inside, an even deeper winter cold lay heavy on her soul. It had been there since Christmas Eve and showed no signs of abatement. If there were snowdrifts of the heart, hers were ten feet high and still piling up.

Halfway to the small shelter where Star waited, Miriam lifted her face into the wind and squinted. Was that Tyler’s rental car? She was sure a vehicle was creeping up the school’s driveway.
Miriam pulled in a sharp breath and rubbed her eyes. The image went away. The wind burned her eyes as it whipped in off the prairie. Was this what happened when people lost their minds? Didn’t they see things that weren’t there?

With a small cry, Miriam rushed toward her buggy. Her hand trembled as she placed her book bag inside and entered the shelter. The cold had crept in unhindered, and Star’s nostrils sprouted blasts of steam.

Miriam stroked the horse’s beautiful face with both hands and asked, “Have I lost my mind?”

Star blinked and chewed slowly.

A wild laugh threatened to burst out of Miriam. She
had
gone mad. She was talking to her horse as if he understood. The Christmas respite had done her no
gut
. She wasn’t as refreshed as she had been after previous Christmas breaks, when she had come back filled with a yearning to begin the second half of the school term. Now her heart felt like ice.

Four more months of school remained before she would leave this place forever to wed Mose in Wayne County. A cry escaped her this time, and Miriam clung to Star’s halter. Somehow she had to gain control of herself. There was no reason for this exhaustion. She had done little but putter around Aunt Fannie’s place ever since Christmas Day. Aunt Fannie had seen to that.

“You need rest after what you’ve been through,” Aunt Fannie had instructed Miriam.

Miriam slipped on Star’s bridle as he whinnied loudly.

“We can drive fast,” Miriam said in comfort. “Home to your warm barn.”

Miriam hitched him to the buggy and climbed in. Star dashed out of the school driveway, and she hung on to the reins. Usually joy would ripple through her at this fast run home, but now there was only the wind in her face and the heavy feeling in her heart.
She would have to speak with Aunt Fannie. She couldn’t face her students like this tomorrow morning, but hiring another substitute or delaying school again was unthinkable. She had already cost the school enough with her troubles. The schoolboard had been nothing but patient and understanding so far, but they had limits too.

Star made good time and didn’t slow down until Uncle William’s new barn came into view. The snow had blown from the roof and piled in small drifts along the east side. Little swirls lifted skyward with each gust. Star whinnied loudly again, and Miriam hung on to the reins as they took the turn into the lane with a clatter of buggy wheels. Uncle William’s face peered out of the barn door as Miriam pulled to a halt. Star’s breath blasted white into the sky. He tossed his head, and Miriam waited to catch her breath before she climbed down.

“Are you okay?” Uncle William asked as his head appeared beside the buggy door.

“That was some ride!” Miriam replied, trying to sound cheerful.

Uncle William wasn’t deceived. “Maybe you’d better let me unhitch, and you can get into the house.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said halfheartedly.

“Now, do as I say,” Uncle William commanded, sounding fatherly. “I don’t want you to overdo yourself.”

Miriam wouldn’t argue. He was probably right, so she climbed down and retrieved her book bag, attempted a quick smile, and turned toward the house.

When she opened the door, Jonathon flew into Miriam’s arms as usual, giggling as Miriam hugged him. Then he ran off to resume his play.

Aunt Fannie peered out of the kitchen doorway. “How did your day go?”

“Okay, I guess.” Miriam sat on a kitchen bench with a sigh.
Usually she came back from the schoolhouse refreshed in her spirit. Not today, and there was no use trying to fool Aunt Fannie.

“There’s a letter from Mose,” Aunt Fannie offered hopefully. “Maybe that will cheer you up.”

Miriam said nothing. Didn’t Aunt Fannie know by now that a letter from Mose would only make her worse?
Yah
, she knew. She had seen her niece mope around the house all Christmas week.

“I wish there was something I could do,” Aunt Fannie said, her hand resting gently on Miriam’s arm.

Miriam didn’t answer and looked away.

“Tell me, Miriam,” Aunt Fannie insisted, “what is it that’s happened since the
bann
was lifted that has you so down? I had hoped you’d be back to your normal happy self by now.”

Miriam finally whispered the words. “It was on Christmas Eve when Uncle William said that Tyler had stopped in at Deacon Phillips’s place. That set my heart spinning, even though I didn’t want it to.”

Aunt Fannie’s hand tightened on Miriam’s arm, her voice gentle. “Miriam, are you in love with Tyler?”

Miriam gasped. “How can you say such a thing?”

“Because you show all the signs.” Aunt Fannie pulled Miriam close. “Of course, you know such a thing cannot be. Such a match will not bring you happiness—only more misery.”


Yah
, I know,” Miriam said. “I will marry Mose, and that will be the end of it. It must be the end of it.”

“In this condition?” Aunt Fannie frowned. “You aren’t fit to be anyone’s bride right now.”

“Mose won’t care.” The words slipped out, their sound harsh. “He just sees all the benefits I’ll bring to him. I’ll be a
gut frau
, and keep his house, and support him in his bishop work, and bear his
kinner
.”

“Miriam!” Aunt Fannie gasped. “Why are you so bitter?”

“I don’t know.” Miriam struggled to control her anger. “Something has happened to me. I don’t feel like the same Miriam anymore. I feel so different inside. I think I’ve gone mad.”

“You’re not considering refusing Mose?” Aunt Fannie appeared dazed.

“Nay. I will marry him.”

Aunt Fannie appeared relieved. “We all go through times like this. You will survive.”

“I hope so,” Miriam said, standing to her feet. “I really hope so.”

Aunt Fanny hesitated and then said, “Miriam, I want to be honest with you. You need to know that Tyler has been back in the community more than just the once William mentioned. We don’t know much about what he’s up to, but we’ve heard that he’s trying to make things right with Bishop Mullet and Deacon Phillips.”

“Tyler is around again?” Miriam didn’t know whether she was happy or troubled at the words.

“Remember, any feelings you have for him can only end in misery.” Aunt Fannie’s voice was firm. “He’s from another world, and he will never be part of us. You know that.”


Yah
. What is so hard for me to bear is that I thought Tyler had feelings for me. But now I just feel he was using me. It was all about his news story, wasn’t it?”

When Aunt Fannie didn’t respond, Miriam glanced over at her aunt. A look of guilt fell on Aunt Fannie’s face… and Miriam noticed.

“Don’t you agree?” Miriam asked. “It was never really about me. It was about the scandal. I was used. And then he even apparently started that rumor about…” Tears formed, and she choked on sobs.

Finally, Aunt Fannie spoke. “Miriam, perhaps there’s something else you need to know. We weren’t going to tell you, hoping
this would all pass and you’d find happiness without bringing up something that would only stir your emotions more.”

Miriam looked puzzled. “What could you possibly tell me that would help?”

“Wait here a moment,” Aunt Fanny said, as she turned and went into her bedroom. She quickly returned with a newspaper. “I guess you should read this editorial. It came out in the paper shortly after all those reporters were questioning you and Mose out by the driveway.”

Miriam took the paper from her aunt.

In a column on the opened editorial page, Miriam read…

Tyler Johnson’s Defense of the Amish

Tyler Johnson, the freelance journalist who has uncovered a political corruption case involving a sitting US Senator, is now using his influence not to further his own interests but those of a little-known Amish community near Clarita. The community figured heavily in the original corruption allegations, but Mr. Johnson is attempting to change that perception. He has pled with federal law enforcement investigators to minimize the community’s involvement and to focus instead on the real perpetrators of the corruption who carried out their nefarious scheme under the guise of helping the Amish community recover from the damage of the tornadoes that ripped through the community two years ago.

According to Mr. Johnson, the peaceful lifestyle and nonresistant beliefs of the Amish could be threatened or severely strained by the court testimony necessary in the federal prosecution of the political corruption case. Mr. Johnson has made a vigorous defense for
the community’s beliefs, which are traceable to the sixteenth century and a little-known group of dissenters during the Protestant Reformation.

As if the drama were not interesting enough, Mr. Johnson was originally quoted by a locally based online magazine as having had a romantic dalliance with Miriam Yoder, an Amish schoolteacher from the Clarita community. Mr. Johnson now insists he was misquoted. He claims no such relationship existed. “All of the Amish women,” Mr. Johnson says, “are models of decorum and have outstanding reputations, especially the community’s schoolteacher. Miss Yoder is engaged to an Amish bishop, and I wish her all the happiness in the world.” Mr. Johnson’s account was apparently verified by Miss Yoder’s fiancé, Bishop Mose Stoll, who in an unusual move, spoke recently with reporters outside of an Amish reconstruction project at the home of Mr. William Byler, a Clarita Amish man whose barn had been burned to the ground in an unsuccessful attempt to end Mr. Johnson’s investigation.

It is the recommendation of this paper that authorities honor Mr. Johnson’s request to respect the local Amish community’s admittedly quaint traditions and also to refrain from casting aspersions on individual members of the community without evidence of wrongdoing.

The remaining two paragraphs of the editorial trailed off into meaningless clatter as far as Miriam was concerned. Miriam let the paper fall from her fingers to the floor. Tyler had defended her? To the whole world? Tyler hadn’t even revealed their kisses. Surely the
story of how he had kissed an engaged Amish woman would have sold plenty of copies. But Tyler hadn’t told.

Miriam picked up the paper again and stared at the words. Tyler’s tenderness reached off the pages and passed through her whole being.
Yah
, it turned out he was a wonderful man, and he hadn’t been using her… but the fact remained that Tyler was not for her. Miriam brought herself up sharply.

“Thank you, Aunt Fannie. Thank you so very much,” Miriam said, setting the paper on a nearby table.

Chapter Thirty-Six

T
he February sun peeked through the heavy clouds scurrying across the prairie sky. Miriam bent her head against the wind and hitched Star to the buggy. Another school week was at a close and every bone in her body ached. Even the children had noticed her crushed spirit this past month. Miriam was sure of it, hard as she tried to act her usual cheerful self.

“What is to become of me?” Miriam asked Star.

He turned to stare at her and blinked his eyes. Miriam patted Star’s neck before she climbed into the buggy and drove out of the schoolhouse lane. She had hoped the turning of a new calendar page this month would make a difference. She had even sent a prayer heavenward while she stood staring at the twenty-eight numbered days on the calendar. But the days until March still seemed far away and heavy.

BOOK: Miriam and the Stranger
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