Miriam's Heart (11 page)

Maybe he had,
she thought. What did she know about how Mennonites did things? Or the English? Maybe men outside the Amish community washed dishes at their wife’s side and swept front porches after supper. She knew so little about the outer world, and she had to admit, she was curious.

Uncle Reuben said something to John and waved him to an empty seat beside him. John glanced up at her, nodded to Reuben and sat down, placing the now-empty pitcher on the table.

Johanna came up beside Miriam, watching her, watching John. “People are talking about you and John,” she whispered. “Better be careful.”

“They wouldn’t be talking if Charley wasn’t so silly. He made a scene and called attention to us.”

“Right.” Johanna chuckled. “Speaking of making a scene, have you seen our mother?” She gestured toward the back porch where Mam seemed deep in conversation with a man in a blue checked shirt. “John’s Uncle Albert. Albert Hartman.”

“He’s our guest. She has to be nice to him.”

“Nice or
nice?
” Johanna put a finger to her lips and snickered.

“What do you mean?”

“While you’re busy flirting with Charley and John, Mam’s not above a little flirting of her own.”

“I was not flirting!” Miriam’s mouth gaped. “And how can you say such a thing about Mam?”

Johanna chuckled. “Use your eyes.” She motioned toward their mother and Albert Hartman. “You know, they were sweet on each other when they were young.”

“She’d never consider a Mennonite. She might have grown up Mennonite, but she’s Amish now.” She turned to her sister. “She would never—would she?”

“Maybe the two of you aren’t as different as you think,” Johanna said with a shrug. “Maybe Mam is using Albert to push Samuel into popping the question. After all, Samuel’s been putting his feet under her table for more than a year without ever coming right out and asking her to marry him.”

“Maybe,” Miriam agreed. “Or maybe God’s will is more mysterious than we can understand. Maybe He wants women to follow their hearts, not their heads, even if it means taking a road less traveled.”

“Some of the boys want cider,” Dorcas said, approaching the drink table and filling her pitcher. She glanced at Johanna. “Did you tell her?”

“Ya.”
Johanna folded her arms. “Like I told you, it’s nothing. Charley was making a joke, is all. Just being Charley.”

Dorcas drew herself up to her full height and dried her hands on a towel. “You poke fun at him and it’s wrong,” she said. “He’s worth two of that Mennonite boy.”

Miriam prayed for patience. Dorcas was Anna’s best friend. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Flirting, leading a good man on. You call that right?” Dorcas sniffed. “My mother saw you, and she’ll go to Hannah. You don’t set a good example for the younger girls—how to act. Maybe you should think more about the hereafter and joining church, than riding in pickup trucks and making a scandal.”

“And maybe you should think more for yourself, Dorcas, and not parrot everything your Mam says.” Johanna dumped a scoopful of ice into her cousin’s tea pitcher. “You might get a boyfriend or two of your own if you laughed more and criticized less.”

Two bright pink patches glowed on Dorcas’s cheeks as she snatched up the pitcher and hurried away.

“That was harsh,” Miriam murmured to her sister.

Johanna shrugged. “Harsh but true. She needs somebody to set her straight or she’ll never find a husband. She acts like she’s forty.”

“She’s right, though. Aunt Martha will blame Mam for what I did. She always does.”

“Don’t worry about Mam. She can handle Aunt Martha.”

“You girls serving or gossiping?”

Miriam whirled around, surprised to find Charley standing so close behind her. She felt her face grow hot and hoped he hadn’t overheard what she and Johanna had been saying to each other.

“What do you want now?” she demanded.

“More tea.” He held out an empty glass.

Her eyes widened, and Johanna giggled.

Charley laughed and lowered his glass. “
Ne.
I’m teasing you. I’ve had more than enough.” He looked down at his damp trousers. “I’m not sure whether I’m wearing more iced tea than I drank or not. I came over because I wanted to ask you to ride home from the singing with me tonight.”

“I think I’d best find something to do…somewhere else,” Johanna said, walking away.

“Ne.”
Miriam grabbed her sister’s arm.

“So, will you, Miriam? Will you ride home with me tonight?” Charley pressed. “Say
ya, Miriam!
” yelled Menno and Titus and Roland and a half dozen more young men at the table, all together.

“You know you want to,” Menno added.

“Charley Byler, you are the most, most—”

“Persistent,” Johanna supplied, giggling.

“That isn’t what I was going to say,” Miriam answered. She could feel her temper rising. All the men were staring at her, even those at the bishop’s table. In another minute, she was going to dump a bucket of ice over Charley’s head.

Johanna saw the look on Miriam’s face, sighed, then turned to Charley. “Go back to the table and have your pie,” she told him. “She’ll ride with you.”

Miriam clasped her hands to her sides, curling her fingers into tight fists. She didn’t like being put on the spot by Charley in front of people this way. And Johanna wasn’t helping matters. “I won’t,” she protested.

“She will,” Johanna corrected, giving Charley a friendly nudge and waving toward his table. “Go on, now, before you embarrass her even more.”

Charley grinned. “Later, then. I’ve got lots to talk to you about, Miriam.”

“And I’ve got lots to say to you, too,” she promised, her tone not nearly as kindly as his. “I can’t wait.”

I
t was after eleven that evening when the young people’s social at Norman and Lydia’s farm finally broke up. It had been a long day, but Miriam was not in the least tired. The youth gathering, with the usual singing and party games, had been more fun than she’d expected, and even though Johanna had trapped her into riding home in Charley’s buggy, she wasn’t dreading it like she thought she would.

The get-together had been larger than normal, as teens and young adults from the neighboring districts who’d come to help raise the house and barn had been invited. Ruth and Charley, both with good voices, had acted as song leaders, while Eli had directed the circle dances, cornhusking contest and apple dunking. Miriam’s all-girl team was defeated in the cornhusking by the boys, amid a thunder of stamping feet and raucous cheers. However, Susanna upheld the family honor by plunging her head completely underwater and coming up with the first apple in her teeth. Her prize was a basket of pears and she was so excited she could hardly talk.

The young people’s dancing-games weren’t the same as English dances, but were more like old-fashioned folk dances. The participants held hands and skipped in a large circle, while others clapped and sang along. The fun came when the couple in the center locked arms and moved in the opposite direction until one of them returned to the circle and chose another to take his or her place. Girls sometimes danced with other girls, but boys never did.

When the person leaving the circle picked a new victim, they usually sought out someone who would cause the most laughter from the group or the one they suspected their old partner was sweet on. It was the game leader’s job to see that the teasing never became mean and that everyone was eventually chosen, so that no one was left out.

Adult chaperones kept their distance, and if some boys held hands with their partners a little longer than was necessary, or if they were more than enthusiastic when it came to swinging a girl, the behavior was usually overlooked, so long as the participants remained in full view of the group and no kissing or inappropriate touching occurred. Any infraction and the guilty party would find themselves banned from future events and their parents visited by district elders.

All the same, it was at these frolics that romances often blossomed, and a girl who’d never looked at a certain boy twice might decide that there might be more to him than she’d supposed. It was all very confusing to Miriam. She liked John, perhaps even wanted him to walk out with her, but watching Charley tonight made her less sure. He wasn’t exciting and he didn’t make her heart race…or did he?

Things had begun to look differently to Miriam when she’d accidentally overheard a conversation between Charley and John just after the men had finished the day’s work on the new house. She’d finished the evening milking and had been about to leave the barn when she’d heard Charley, on the other side of the door, call John’s name. When John murmured a response, she’d stopped short, hoping that Charley wouldn’t cause trouble again.

“You did a good day’s work for a college boy,” Charley had said heartily.

She’d crept forward and peeked around the corner of the barn. John and Charley were standing in a group of men that included Roland and Samuel. Charley was grinning.

“And not just a good day’s work for a Mennonite, either. A good day’s work for an Amish,” Charley had said as he extended his hand. “Sorry if I was a jerk before. Thanks for pitching in.”

John had grasped the offered hand and shook it. “No problem. I was glad to be a part of it.” He smiled. “I mean that. It was something, building a house that fast.”

“We couldn’t have finished as much as we did today without your help,” Charley said. “You’re all right for a Mennonite.” The other men had laughed and John and Charley had both joined in.

Miriam had then retraced her steps to the cows, waited a few moments and then left the barn. By that time, the others had scattered. Neither John nor Charley were anywhere to be seen.

But Miriam hadn’t been able to forget the conversation she’d overheard. Charley was obviously jealous of John, but he’d been man enough to admit when he was wrong and offer the hand of friendship. And he’d done it in front of his friends and neighbors. That took courage and reinforced what she already knew about her old friend. Charley had a good heart and he could laugh at his own mistakes. Realizing how important that was, somehow made her feel differently about him tonight. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. And when it had been Charley’s turn to swing her around in
Skip to My Lou,
she’d found that his strong arm and the gleam in his eyes had sent goose bumps down her spine.

“Miriam?” Susanna’s voice broke into Miriam’s thoughts. “Help me.” Panting, Susanna staggered out of the shadows, a heaping basket of pears in her arms. “They’re falling everywhere.”

The pears were piled high, and every time Susanna took two steps, one would roll off the top and fall to the ground. Then, her little sister would place the basket on the ground, put the errant pear back on, and pick up the container. It was far too heavy for Susanna to begin with, and there was no way she could maintain her balance long enough to reach the buggy without having the same thing happen over and over.

“Wait.” Miriam scooped up another pear rolling through the grass.

Susanna trudged forward, mouth set, small rounded shoulders straining. “Did you see? Did you see me? I won! I dunked bester than anybody.”

“You did dunk better than anyone else.” Miriam took the basket from her sister’s hands. “You were the best apple dunker of all. Wait until Mam hears.”

“Can I have a pear?” Charley came out of the shadows and lifted the basket out of Miriam’s grasp.

Susanna giggled. “
Ne.
Silly. They’re green. Pears gotta wi-pen.”

“Ripen,” Miriam corrected softly. “And you’re right, Susanna. They do have to ripen before we eat them.”

Charley smelled good. Miriam caught the distinct scent of Old Spice aftershave as she leaned down to grab another pear Susanna had lost. She passed it to her sister. “Would you like to ride home with me in Charley’s buggy?” she asked.

“Sorry, no room tonight.” Charley placed Susanna’s basket in the back of the Yoder buggy. Then he caught Miriam’s hand. “Susanna will have to ride with Anna. I borrowed Roland’s two-seater.”

“Miriam,” Anna said, already seated on the buggy bench. “Maybe you’d better not. Mam will say you should have a chaperone.”

But Miriam let Charley lead her away by the hand and together they climbed into the courting buggy. Before she could think twice, Charley had gathered the lines and snapped them over the back of his pinto gelding. They rolled out of the farmyard with the horse at a fast trot.

“Miriam!” Anna called after them.

“See you at home!” she shouted back.

When they reached the end of the Beachy’s lane, Charley turned the pinto’s head in the opposite direction of the Yoder farm.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Miriam demanded, grasping the side of the seat as he made the turn.

“Taking you home.”

“This way?” She tried to sound stern, but it came out in a burst of amusement.

He had a silly smile on his face, like he was so proud of himself and of his clever bending of the rules. “I didn’t say how long it would take me to get you home, did I?”

“You cheat,” she protested. He’d let go of her hand when he was guiding the horse out of the barnyard and onto the blacktop, but now he grasped it again. She tried to pull away, but he held on tight. “Charley.” Small sparks of pleasure ran up her arm. “Let me go.”

“I don’t want to,” he answered. “You’re too hard to catch.”

She looked at him. “Maybe I don’t want to be caught.”

“Miriam, please. You’ve been running away from me for days.” His tone turned serious. “Let me say what I have to say, before I lose my nerve.”

The worn leather of the seat felt soft under her fingertips. “I can’t remember you ever having trouble before talking to me.”

“That’s because you usually understand me so well. Sometimes you know what I’m thinking or how I’m feeling without me even having to say anything. So I
thought
when I told you about my new job that you’d understand.”

“Understand what?”

“What I was trying to tell you.” He groaned uncomfortably. “Miriam, I was trying to tell you that I want to court you.”

For long seconds and then minutes, there was no sound but the creak of the buggy wheels, the rustle of the harness and the steady rhythm of the gelding’s hooves on the roadway. Her mouth felt dry. Because Mam had warned her, she’d thought about what she was going to say when he asked her. She’d rehearsed how she was going to explain to Charley why she didn’t want to walk out with him, but now that the time had come, she wasn’t sure what to say. She didn’t
know
what to say because she didn’t know how she felt about the idea.

“Miriam,” he said, finally breaking the awkward silence. “You’re supposed to say something.”

He was still holding her hand, his grasp warm and so…
nice.
“I…I’m thinking.”

“So tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking that I like you, Charley. We’ve always been such good friends,” she hedged. “But I never thought of us like that—courting.”

“I understand that, but maybe you should. Friendship is a place to start. It wouldn’t be much sense to court if we hated each other. Do you hate me?”

She shook her head. “You know better than that. It’s just that courting, marriage, they’re big steps.” She felt emotion welling up in her throat. She felt so awful for saying this, for hurting Charley, because she knew she was, but she had to be truthful with him, didn’t she? “The truth is,” she blurted, “I don’t know what I want…or
who
I want.”

He threaded the lines through his fingers and slowed the horse to a walk. His voice remained calm, not squeaky like hers had become. “You’ve been walking out with John.”

“No, I haven’t,” she protested. “I rode to Easton with him. We had lunch in a restaurant. That was all.”

“And you had a good time?”

She took a deep breath. This was so hard, being completely honest. With herself and with Charley. “Yes,” she admitted, “I did.”

“Did he kiss you?”

She stiffened, glancing at him. “That’s none of your business.”

“Well, just in case.” He knotted the lines around the dash rail, slid over and took her in his arms.

Before she could muster a protest, Charley leaned close and kissed her. His mouth was warm, his breath clean. Without realizing she was going to do it, she leaned forward and kissed him back. Their lips fit together perfectly, and sweet tingly sensations made her giddy.

Breathless, she pushed him away. “Do you make a habit of kissing the girls you drive home from singings?”

“I suppose I do.” He chuckled in the darkness as he took the reins again. The horse had never broken stride. “Charley Byler!”

“I’m kidding. You’re the first, Miriam, the first girl I ever kissed. Just now.” He grinned.

She folded her arms over her chest, trying to convince herself that she didn’t like it…that she didn’t want him to kiss her again. “That’s not true,” she accused. “What about Ada Peachy? I saw you kiss her behind the schoolhouse at the seventh grade picnic.”

“Doesn’t count,” he argued firmly. “She kissed me. Missed my mouth and kissed my nose. I ran away.” He took hold of her hand again and gently squeezed it.

She pulled her hand away from his, but only after she savored the feel of it for a second. “Why did you kiss me? Because we have no chaperone? Because you think I’m wild enough to do anything?”

He chuckled. “Because I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time. A very long time. And because I want to marry you.”

“Take me home, Charley.”

“Will you?”

“Marry you?” she asked, incredulously.

“Well, yes. But that’s not my question, for now. My question, for tonight, is will you think about letting me court you?”

She knotted her fingers together, still able to feel the heat of his hand on hers and the taste of his mouth. Her heart was beating faster than the horse’s hooves were striking the road.

She wanted to refuse. She’d been practically forced to ride home with him, and he’d taken advantage of that by kissing her. Wasn’t that reason enough to say no?

She brushed her lower lip with a fingertip. But maybe, just maybe, there was more to this man beside her than she’d imagined, and maybe she’d be a fool not to give him the chance to prove it. Making up her mind, she raised a finger to him. “No more kisses,” she warned.

He nodded. “No more kisses until we’re pledged.”

“No one said anything about pledging
or
courting. I’m promising nothing tonight but an open mind. You can come around, sometimes, but you can’t tell people that we’re courting, because we’re not. Now, turn the buggy around and take me home.”

“
Ya,
Miriam, whatever you say.” He chuckled, lifting the reins. “But you must admit, it was a
very
nice kiss.”

The following day was Sunday, not the worship Sabbath but the day for relaxation and visiting with family and friends. After breakfast, Miriam took the buggy and picked up Johanna and the children, which was their usual routine on off Sundays. Johanna loved nothing more than spending time with her mother and sisters, and Wilmer seemed equally satisfied with the arrangement.

“Wilmer likes to spend the Lord’s Day in peace and quiet, not listening to babies wail,” Johanna explained on the way home. “He studies German, reads his Bible studies and writes to his family in Kentucky.”

“Mmm,” Miriam agreed. “They do get noisy.” Jonah was standing between her knees, his small hands on the leathers, pretending to drive Blackie.

“Sometimes,” Johanna agreed.

She was wearing a maroon dress, white apron and
kapp,
all clean and starched, but worn. Her shoes, Miriam noticed, were the same navy sneakers she wore every day, and they had seen better days, as well. Wilmer made a good living on his construction job, but he was frugal with his money when it came to his wife and children. It annoyed Miriam that Wilmer was a spiffy dresser for an Amish man, but the only new clothes her sister ever got were the ones Mam made for her. She’d have to mention Johanna’s shoes to their mother.