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Authors: Jerry S. Eicher

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“That she was,” Tyler said as he left.

Chapter Thirty-Two

M
ose was on the road early on Friday morning in Deacon Phillips’s borrowed buggy. He was headed over to help with the day’s construction project at William Byler’s place. All week he had worked where needed. By Thursday most of the barn on Deacon Phillips’s property had been rebuilt. The few odds and ends would be completed today by Deacon Phillips and two other men who had agreed to return for the day. The rest of the community’s men and large crews from the Amish communities scattered around the state planned to erect William Byler’s barn by nightfall.

The visiting carpenters had stayed over from yesterday and been put up in the area’s homes and barns. Mose had given up the basement apartment at Deacon Phillips’s place so that the women who had accompanied the vans as cooks had a place to sleep. He had joined several men on sleeping bags in Deacon Phillips’s newly built barn loft.

They had awakened before dawn to a delicious breakfast
cooked in Katie’s kitchen and served outdoors until sunup. Mose looked behind him and pulled partly off the road as two vans passed him full of the men in straw hats and a few women in dark shawls. Everyone waved heartily, and Mose stuck his hand out of the buggy to respond. They were all in
gut
spirits this morning. He was too. The reconstruction had gone well this week, and the weekend was finally close when the
bann
would be lifted and he would speak with Miriam again.

All week he had chafed under the restrictions he had placed on their relationship. He should have allowed for a time when he could rebuke and chasten Miriam further. That way he would have cleared the air between them. They would have been ready to move on to other things on Sunday afternoon. He had limited time to spend with Miriam now as he planned to leave for home Monday on the Greyhound.

Oh, well, it was done. Mose stuck his head out of the buggy again for a long breath of the prairie’s morning air. He had come to like the land out here. No wonder Miriam was so attached. He was surprised she hadn’t made more of a fuss about the need to move with him to Wayne County once they had wed. But that was Miriam’s character. She was self-sacrificing and wished to please her husband-to-be. Where her transgression with Tyler Johnson had come from, he still couldn’t understand. He wanted to get to the bottom of all this, and he should have done so on Saturday evening when he first met with Miriam, but his furor had been too great. No
gut
thing came out of the wrath of man, Mose reminded himself. Of this he was sure. But Miriam’s acceptance of her discipline had settled his temper. Not all women would have taken a time spent under the
bann
with so little protest.

Mose settled in the buggy seat again. Deacon Phillips had opened up to him earlier in the week with details about Tyler Johnson. Nothing he had heard surprised him. The man had
sneaked into the community under a false pretense, and Deacon Phillips had fallen for the man’s story. Deacon Phillips had gone so far as to give Tyler a place to stay in his basement apartment. The man’s charms must have been immense. No wonder Miriam had fallen. The thought made him feel better, and yet it still shouldn’t have happened. Women were supposed to be more sensitive about deception and notice it sooner. Why hadn’t Miriam known the truth about Tyler? The question burned through his mind. He had done things in his
rumspringa
time that he now regretted, but he had never kissed an
Englisha
girl. He had gone on a date with an
Englisha
neighbor girl a few times, but that was all the further things had gone. How could Miriam have fallen so low? Miriam had such a
gut
reputation throughout the community, and her character was above reproach until…

“Well,” Mose muttered. “We all have our weak points.”

He would comfort himself with that thought, but it would not do to let Miriam know that he held any understanding for what she had done. There was no danger the
Englisha
man Tyler would return, but still…

“Tyler’s left us for
gut
, I’m afraid,” Deacon Phillips had told him. There had been a twinge of sorrow in the deacon’s voice. Did Miriam feel the same? Would Miriam remember the man’s kisses? Likely! But so he remembered Rachel’s kisses and always would. Miriam couldn’t replace the life Rachel and he had lived together. There had been no
kinner
, but Rachel had spent many an evening close to him on the couch as they read
The Budget
together. No, he would never forget Rachel. He would have to move past his anger. Miriam would be his married
frau
soon enough, and they could build their own memories with
kinner
this time—if the Lord didn’t object. Surely he wouldn’t be left childless by two women?

Mose pulled back the reins as he approached the Bylers’ place
and saw vehicles parked along the road. Who would that be? There were huge vans everywhere with people all along the road. This must be the news media, Mose told himself. The men from the community had spoken together yesterday about what they would do if such a thing happened. They had decided that in no case would there be any cooperation offered or photography equipment allowed on the Amish properties.

So today their fears had come to pass. The Amish were already in the news in all the local papers in connection with the political corruption case Tyler had uncovered. It was only natural that the media would seek to cover the rebuilding project of the burned out barn. Well, William had kept them out on the road from the looks of things. That was the best any of them could do. The Lord would have to take care of the rest.

Mose drove with care as he approached. The Byler driveway had large vans parked on either side of it. His buggy would barely fit through.

“Whoa there,” Mose called to his horse as they came closer. “Take it easy, old boy.”

Two men ran toward the buggy with fancy equipment held above their heads and long trails of wires strung out behind them. “Whoa there.” Mose spoke louder this time, but his horse threw its head in the air and whinnied loudly.

Mose gripped the lines as one of the men shouted, “Do you know Miriam Yoder, the Amish schoolteacher?”

Mose gulped for air and leaned out of the buggy. Had he heard correctly? How did these men know his
frau
-to-be?

The men moved closer at once. A long pole was stuck almost into his face. “Do you have any comment, sir, about her affair with Tyler Johnson?”

Mose jerked his head back inside the buggy. “
Das ist ein leig
,” he exploded, but surely the men didn’t understand Pennsylvania
Dutch. Even if they did, he had best say this in English. Mose leaned out again. “This is a lie,” he said, his voice raised high.

The long pole ended up inside his buggy as the men plunged forward. “Do you have personal knowledge of this affair, sir?”

Mose’s ears rang with the question. His horse reared high into the air and took off. It was all Mose could do to hang on to the lines as they dashed between the two vans. The long pole caught on the buggy door and bent sideways. There was a loud twang, as the buggy dashed into the Bylers’ driveway. Mose came to a bucking stop beside the greenhouse with his head in a daze and his hands clamped on the lines.

As Mose caught his breath, William stuck his head into the buggy with a grin. “It’s not every day we see a bishop come in like a rowdy youngster. Did your horse get away from you?”

“There’re asking questions about Miriam,” Mose said.

William sobered. “They are? How can that be?”

“I don’t know,” Mose replied. “Unless Tyler is talking. Would he do such a thing?”

“I don’t think so,” William muttered.

“They say Miriam had an affair with Tyler,” Mose told him.

“You don’t say!” Horror filled William’s face. “But that’s not true.”

“I suppose not,” Mose allowed. “But we’d best tell them, don’t you think?”

“Miriam would do no such thing.” William still wasn’t finished.

Mose’s head spun. The shouted questions had deeply disturbed him. They were the sound of a world he knew little of, and yet they were here. He had spoken the truth. To ignore the reporters further would do no one any
gut
.

“You don’t doubt Miriam, do you?” William stepped closer to ask.

“It doesn’t matter,” Mose finally allowed. “The question is what
must be done. This will be in the local papers tomorrow if I don’t miss my guess. How will the community live this thing down, or
my
community, since I’m involved? We must answer this charge more fully.”

“But how? They are
Englisha
men…” William stared toward the parked vehicles by the road with their bright lights turned toward them. “All they can do is ask questions.”

“Go tell Miriam she must go out with me and answer this matter,” Mose ordered. He climbed down from the buggy. “She must tell them there is nothing to this.”

William appeared doubtful but turned to hurry toward the house. Mose unhitched his horse and waited for twenty minutes until three people appeared. Fannie was with William and Miriam. The two walked on either side of the white-faced girl.

“Have you told Miriam?” Mose addressed William.


Yah
,” William replied. “She will say what needs saying.”

Miriam kept her eyes on the ground and said nothing.

“I will also go with her,” Fannie said. “It will seem more appropriate.”

He couldn’t argue with that, Mose thought. The woman was wise. He hadn’t thought of how it would appear if he stood beside Miriam alone.

“You had best come too,” Mose told William.

Together they approached the vans again. The workers on the barn stopped to watch as the
Englisha
men ran from their vehicles toward them. Mose came to a stop at the end of the driveway and held up his hand.

“I am Bishop Mose Stoll,” he said, his voice steady. “And these are William and Fannie Byler, whose barn we are rebuilding today.”

“Do you know Miriam Yoder?” a loud voice interrupted him.

Mose stepped closer to Miriam and placed his hand on her arm. “This is Miriam Yoder, who is promised to me in holy marriage.
We do not know where these rumors have come from about how Tyler Johnson spent his time in the community, but none of them are true.”

The long poles ended up in Miriam’s face. “Are you Miriam Yoder?”


Yah
,” Miriam managed.

“Do you know Tyler Johnson?”

Miriam nodded. The questions came thick and fast.

“What was your relationship with Mr. Johnson?”

“Does this affect your engagement to Mr. Stoll?”

“Does the community’s vaunted forgiveness extend to fallen women?”

“Will you be seeing Mr. Johnson in the future?”

Mose stepped forward and pushed back the long poles. “Enough,” he shouted. “These questions are all unfair. Tyler came among the community as a sheep in…”

Mose was drowned out by the chorus of shouts. “Let the woman speak for herself.”

He had better, Mose decided, and he stepped back. Miriam would handle this properly. His future with Miriam hung on it.

Miriam spoke softly. “I knew Tyler Johnson,
yah
. He’s a nice young man, and we saw each other at the youth gatherings. But that’s what all the young people from the community do. We talked and enjoyed each other’s company. I don’t know what Tyler… Mr. Johnson… told you, but any comments about an… affair…” Miriam choked on the word, “… are completely untrue.”

“You did not date Mr. Johnson then?”

“I did not.” Miriam kept her gaze steady.

“What was your opinion of Mr. Johnson?”

Miriam looked away. “He appeared to be a nice young man. He succeeded in uncovering a political corruption scandal, so his time in the community was not wasted.”

“Can we see your classroom, Miss Yoder? Will you be teaching today?”

Mose took over again. “This is enough. We have now answered your questions.”

William turned to lead the way back, and Fannie had her arm around Miriam’s waist.

“Is she really your fiancée, Bishop?” The last question was delivered with a laugh.

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