A Promise for Miriam (41 page)

She just hadn’t found the courage yet to bring up that conversation with him. What would she tell him?

Yes, they had bathrooms in the house. Yes, they had gas stoves and refrigerators. Yes, her life would be marginally easier. But why would any of that matter without him? Without Grace?

Her pulse beat faster whenever he looked her way, and no matter how she tried to slow down the dreams of her heart, his was the last face she envisioned when she went to sleep at night.

But he hadn’t brought up the subject of marriage again. He visited her parents’ home often enough. They sat and talked, even took walks together, but the topic of their relationship—it hadn’t been broached.

Perhaps he was regretting that he’d ever mentioned it.

The waitress brought everyone a cup of
kaffi
, and all but Rae ordered pie. Samuel nearly smiled when he bit into his Dutch apple. Miriam hoped Rae spoke quickly. The sugar was the only thing keeping the old codger there.

“What’s your idea, Rae?” Miriam took a small bite of her chocolate pie and studied the newspaperwoman.

“I believe Mrs. Goodland is right. She probably can’t stop Drake. People like him aren’t afraid of litigation. It almost seems to me that they thrive in courtrooms, same as bees flourish in the heat of summer.” She shook her head, her dark hair falling forward over her shoulders. “Maybe it’s the drama. Maybe it’s the winning at any cost. Personally, I think it would be foolish to fight him on those grounds.”

“Do you know Byron Drake?” Eli asked, looking up from his cherry cobbler with interest.

“I did some research before my editor sent me here to cover this story. This isn’t the first time he’s swooped in and made a big controversial splash in a small town.”

“Huh.” Samuel swirled his fork through the ice cream that had begun to melt over his pie. “Can’t say as I’m surprised. He seems like the type who would go around from one place to another causing trouble merely because he can.”

“I suspect partly it’s about the money, and partly it’s about the power. Whatever his reasons, if you want to win you need to attack on a different front.”

“We don’t attack,” Gabe said quietly. “We’re Amish.”

“Yeah. I understand that part, but what if there was another way? What if there was a quieter, gentler way to win? Wouldn’t it be worth it for you to try?”

Her question hung in the air over their table. Miriam knew how she would answer, because her first concern was the children, but she also understood that their principles ran deep. As they went from chair to chair, answering what they thought the rest of their district would agree with, the ball of tension inside of Miriam began to loosen. It had been there since the night of the students’ presentation, growing and tightening.

She began to hope that the problem might have a resolution, and with that hope it almost seemed as if the first warmth of spring filled the little cafe.

“It would be worth it,” Gabe said. “In my opinion.”

“Suppose so,” Eli agreed.

“Maybe.” Samuel sat back, pushing away his empty plate.

“What do you have in mind?” Miriam asked.

“Use the media against him. You probably don’t realize how much the general population sympathizes with your culture.”

“We already told you.” This time Samuel picked up his fork and waved it at her. “We don’t abide being photographed.”

“I understand that, and Drake’s blatant disregard for your religious customs will be a point in our favor.” She pulled the folder from her shoulder bag. “From the cover to the last page, this entire plan neglects to consider a single aspect of your beliefs.”

“
Ya
. That’s what we were trying to say.” Gabe accepted more
kaffi
from the waitress.

“He never planned to listen to you, but he
will
listen to bad press. No one can afford that, in spite of what Donald Trump says.”

Miriam had popped a forkful of chocolate pie into her mouth. “Who?” came out sounding like an owl, which started Gabe laughing.

“You don’t know who Donald Trump is?”

“No,” Eli said. “Should we?”

“Not necessarily, but that’s what I mean. You and Drake operate in different worlds. He’s invading yours, and the way to win is with my newspaper.”

“Not to be rude, Miss Caperton, but why are you willing to help us?”

“It’s a good question.” She picked up her napkin and began to fold it. When she did speak, she looked up, first at Miriam and then at the men. “The easy answer is that I’ll get several good stories out of it, and that will make my boss happy.”

“Without pictures?” Samuel asked.

“Without identifying pictures of any Amish person.”

“She does know our ways,” Eli muttered.

“There’s another answer?” Miriam asked.

“Yes.” Rae sipped her cold
kaffi
, choosing her words carefully. “I was raised on a farm east of Wilton. When I was twelve an Amish family purchased the property bordering ours. They had a young girl my age, and we became close
freinden
.”

The word slipped off her lips as a smile tinged with sadness caused her lips to turn up slightly.

“What happened?” Miriam asked. One part of her didn’t want to know, but she could sense that Rae needed to tell. It seemed they were bound together now, the five of them. Sitting in the café on the first Friday in February, all of them pulling together—yoked together—against Drake and his massive business machine.

Rae’s voice calmed her nerves and reminded her of the essence of all they fought for, even as the woman’s heartache bled through her words.

“Katie was driving her buggy on one of the side roads in the early hours of an October morning when an
Englischer
hit her. He’d been up all night drinking, and he came speeding over the top of the hill. He said he never even saw her.”

“Oh, I remember that, honey.” Their waitress had stopped to pick up their empty plates. “It was about six years ago. The fool’s attorney claimed he wasn’t at fault because there were no buggy signs.”

“Right. He was still convicted of vehicular homicide, but they pled it down. Instead of ten years in prison, he received one.” Rae had been staring out the window, but now she gazed at each of them and finally at Drake’s brochure. “One year for killing a nineteen-year-old girl. All because there were no buggy signs, even though his blood alcohol level was twice the legal limit. The media ran stories, which seemed to me to go along with his point of view, discussing how dangerous it was to have horses and buggies on the roads, etc.”

She sipped her
kaffi
and then glanced briefly around the café. “They never interviewed a single Amish person for any of the stories. That was when I decided I wanted to be a reporter and an advocate for Plain folk whenever possible.”

All were quiet as they processed her story and the tragedy of her friend. Miriam knew, though, that although Rae had a sincere desire to help them, she didn’t completely understand the Amish way. Katie’s family would have been counseled that it was
Gotte’s wille
for her to perish that October day, just as Gabe had been told it was the destined time for his wife to die.

She glanced up, met his stare, and wondered if he was thinking the same thing she had been. Their eyes locked, and it seemed that a heart full of emotions passed between them. She tried to remember the reasons he’d suggested, reasons she should consider Aden, that she’d be happier living somewhere else, that he was not the person God intended for her—but she couldn’t recall a single word or hint from that conversation.

“So now you know. You know why I try to catch these assignments. I do what I can to be an educator regarding the Amish community. It’s my way of being loyal to Katie’s memory.”

Their waitress had moved on to help an elderly couple who had walked through the front door.

Eli cleared his throat. “It’s a
gut
thing you are attempting to do, for sure. But what exactly do you have in mind? How do you think we can succeed in using your paper to change Drake’s plans?”

This time Rae’s smile was bright and confident. She pulled out a pad of paper with notes she’d written. “I was hoping you’d ask.”

It only took fifteen minutes to outline what she wanted to do. By the time she was finished, even Samuel was leaning forward and listening intently.

Her ideas were bold, but they might work if the group could convince the other members in their district and if they could time everything right.

And if it was
Gotte’s wille.

Chapter 50

G
race could hardly sit still as she rode in Eli’s buggy. Sadie sat on her right side, next to the window. Hannah sat beside Lily on the seat in front of them. Even though Hannah was older, and Grace had never seen Hannah nervous about anything, her cheeks were red and she kept glancing out the window as if she expected to see an
Englisch
car pull up beside them and snap their pictures.

Adam and Luke were in the seat behind her, and she didn’t even mind. The bishop was right—miracles did still happen!

This might be the most exciting day Grace could remember.

It was more exciting than when they exchanged presents on Christmas, though she loved Stormy more than
mammi
Sarah’s shoofly pie. Still and all, a school outing was the very best. And one to town? There wasn’t a single student who could ever remember such a thing.

“Will there be a lot of people, Hannah?” Grace leaned forward so Hannah could hear her over the buggy full of students and the clip-clop of the horses.

“Don’t know, Grace. Maybe.”

“What about cameras? Miriam said there might be cameras.” Sadie practically bounced on her seat.

“Don’t you worry about that. Remember when Rae came and talked to the class?” Hannah leaned over to pick up the song sheet Lily had dropped.

Grace and Sadie sat back and whispered, comparing what they remembered about the newspaperwoman, Rae.

“Hannah, what if the other newspaper people don’t listen to Rae?” Grace smiled when Sadie reached over and laced fingers with her. They were best friends, and they were going to stand beside each other when the time came for songs. Lily would be next to them.

“Our parents trust Rae, and they think this is best.”

Grace turned around and tried to see out the back of the buggy. She moved to the right and the left, because mostly she could only see boys’ Sunday hats, but finally she was able to make out Chance. Behind their buggy horse would be her dad and Miriam.

Sometimes when she was going to sleep, she would dream about her
dat
and her teacher marrying. She knew that was only a dream that she wanted to come true. She was older now, nearly nine, and she knew the difference between pretending and what was real.

When folks were planning on marrying for real, they went riding in buggies alone and stayed for dinner. There were signs. Her dad and Miriam didn’t have the right signs. Miriam hadn’t been over for dinner once, and they never went for buggy rides alone. Grace had even offered to stay home by herself. She’d told her dad that she was old enough if he wanted to go out driving, but he only laughed and told her he was fine sitting and reading the
Budget
again.

Sometimes she did catch them looking at each other funny, and then she’d think maybe…but so far, nothing.

She’d talked to God about this…but again, nothing.

Abigail, Miriam’s mom, said praying could take a while. She said sometimes it took years.

Grace turned around in her seat and smoothed out her dress. For her dad’s sake, she hoped this prayer worked a little faster. He might not have years if he was looking to marrying. She’d noticed a little gray in his beard one morning this week. When she’d mentioned it, he’d laughed and laughed, which made no sense to her at all.

She was about to turn to Sadie and ask her if her dad ever laughed about things that weren’t one bit funny, when the buggy began to slow as they entered town. The streets were lined with lots of people—Amish and
Englisch
, and there were cars everywhere.

“Say, look at that truck,” Adam whispered to Luke.

“Never seen one with lights on top like that.”

“It’s for spotlighting deer,” John said.

He was sitting behind the two boys. Though he could have driven a buggy if he’d wanted to, he’d chosen to ride along with them. Grace wondered if it was because he liked to be with Hannah, but then he didn’t sit with Hannah. The boy-girl thing was all very confusing to her.

“What’s that mean, spotlighting?” Luke asked.

“You shine a light in their eyes so they don’t move, and then you shoot them.” John sat back without another word to let the boys decide for themselves if the truck was still something they liked or not.

Grace didn’t care about the
Englisch
cars, but she’d certainly never seen so many of them—not even when they had ridden on the bus from Indiana. Of course, she’d slept much of that trip, which was last November. Thinking about it, that seemed to have happened years and years ago. It seemed as though it were someone else who had stepped onto that bus holding her dad’s hand.

“I see her!” Sadie said. “I see Rae.”

As soon as she pointed, Grace saw her too, standing back near the hitching posts and handing out sheets of paper.

What was on those sheets of paper?

“We’re here,
kinner
.” Eli murmured to the horses, pulled them to a stop, and then turned around to face everyone in the buggy. “Out slow and careful to keep your clothes clean. I tried to park away from the mud, but that wasn’t so easy to do with all of the traffic.”

Esther’s buggy had parked to the left of theirs, and her
dat
and Miriam were on the right. Hannah walked out of the buggy first and John stepped out last. By the time Grace and Sadie hopped out, fingers still laced together, she felt as though she were in the middle of a church service.

There were so many Amish around her that she couldn’t see anything but trousers and long dresses.