A Merry Heart Read online

  “That’s all well and nice, but it doesn’t mean Miriam would make you a good wife, Amos.”

  “But she would make Mary Ellen a good mudder, I’m sure of it.”

  Andrew nodded. “You’re probably right. Miriam’s done well as a schoolteacher, and she would likely do as well as Mary Ellen’s mother.”

  “Got any ideas how I can make her see that?”

  “Guess you need to try harder, and don’t give up, ’cause one thing I know for sure is my big sister has no other suitors.” Andrew paused and scrubbed a hand down his bearded face. “So do you want me to put in a good word for you or what?”

  “You—you would do that for me?”

  “Sure thing, because I think you’d be good for my unhappy sister. Truth be told, I wouldn’t mind havin’ you as a brother-in-law, either.”

  Amos released a puff of air. “That would be great. I’ll appreciate any help I can get on this.”

  “In case you don’t know it, my mamm wants to see you and Miriam together, too.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure. Why do you think she’s had you for supper so many times?”

  “Maybe I’ll have a talk with Anna then, too.”

  “Might not be a bad idea.” Andrew slid his chair back and stood. “A little prayer wouldn’t hurt, either.”

  I

  Heartless. . .heartless. . .heartless. . . The steady rhythm of the buggy wheels echoed in Miriam’s ears as they traveled home that evening. The repetitive noise seemed to be calling out a reminder of the heartless way she had behaved toward Amos that morning.

  She had probably hurt his feelings by letting him know she wasn’t interested in him and thought he was only after her because of Mary Ellen. But he needed to realize there was no chance of them courting, much less of her agreeing to marry him. No matter how hard Miriam tried, she couldn’t seem to get over the hurt and pain that lingered in her heart because of William’s deception. Now Amos was hurting her even more by using his child to try and gain her favor. How foolish did he believe her to be? She’d been tricked by a man once, only to have her heart torn asunder. She would never allow herself to be hurt like that again.

  As Papa pulled their buggy alongside the barn, Miriam pushed her thoughts aside, climbed down, and followed her mother up to the house.

  “How about a glass of lemonade or some iced tea?” Mom asked as they stepped into the kitchen a few minutes later.

  Miriam tried to smile but failed. “I’m kind of tired. So if you don’t mind, I think I’ll head upstairs to my room.”

  Mom patted Miriam’s arm. “Sleep well then, daughter.”

  “I will. Danki.”

  Miriam trudged wearily up the stairs, feeling like the weight of the world sat on her shoulders. If only there were some way to remove the heavy burden that made her feel like a prisoner.

  The following day after lunch, Anna and Miriam got busy cleaning up the kitchen. The men had gone back to the fields, leaving the women alone with a sink full of dirty dishes.

  Anna filled the plastic dishpan with hot water and a touch of liquid detergent. “The men were sure hungry, jah?”

  Miriam motioned to the bowl on the cupboard, full of watermelon rinds. “I think Lewis ate three or four pieces of watermelon himself.”

  “Our men do have some hearty appetites.” Anna stepped aside so Miriam could wash the dishes while she dried. “Speaking of men, I was talking with Amos Hilty yesterday after the worship service. He asked me—that is, he was wondering if I would speak to you on his behalf.”

  Miriam dropped the dishrag into the soapy water so hard that it sent several bubbles drifting toward the ceiling. “Doesn’t that man ever give up? I thought I had made myself clear when I spoke to him yesterday. Obviously my words fell on deaf ears.”

  “Now, Miriam, please don’t be upset.” Anna spoke in a soothing tone, hoping to calm her daughter. “I’ve probably made a mistake by bringing this up, but Amos seemed quite upset after he talked with you yesterday.”

  “I’m sorry about that, but I was upset, too.”

  “He’s afraid you may have the wrong impression of him—of his intentions, that is.”

  “Oh, his intentions are clear enough. At least, to me they are.” Miriam’s forehead wrinkled as she turned to face Anna. “Can’t you see it, too, Mom? Amos cares nothing for me. He just wants a housekeeper and a mudder for Mary Ellen.”

  “I’m sure he wants more than that.”

  “Jah, he probably wants someone to darn his socks, scrub his floors, and cook his meals. Well, I’m sorry, but that someone won’t be me.”

  Anna placed a gentle hand on her daughter’s arm. “Miriam, is it so wrong for a man to want those things?”

  “Then he ought to get a hired girl to help out. Please tell Amos the next time you see him that I want to be left alone.”

  “I believe he does have a hired girl who comes in part-time, and you know Amos has no relatives to call on. His parents are both deceased, and his two brothers have farms of their own to run. His in-laws live in another state, so—”

  “I’m truly sorry about all that,” Miriam interrupted, “but it’s certainly not reason enough for me to marry Amos, and I don’t appreciate him asking you to speak to me on his behalf.”

  A ray of hope shone in Anna’s soul. “Has he asked you to marry him?”

  “Well, no, he just asked if he could come calling.”

  “I think he only wants to establish a friendship with you for now. In time, you’ll both know if there’s a chance for love or marriage.”

  Miriam released a noisy sigh. “I can already tell you that there’s no chance for either love or marriage. Not for me.”

  Anna handed Miriam a few dishes to wash. “Must you always be so negative? Can’t you look for some things to be joyous about?”

  “What is there to be joyous about?”

  Anna nodded toward the open window. “There are so many reasons to smile—the pretty birds chirping and flapping their wings, a clear blue sky on a sunny day, warm apple dumplings with fresh whipping cream for dessert, freshly cut flowers to decorate the table.” She smiled. “And of course, knowing one is loved and cherished.”

  Miriam shrugged and then moved across the room. She picked up the bulky ceramic bowl and headed for the back door. “I’m going out to the pasture to give these rinds to the cows.”

  Out in the pasture, the herd of dairy cows grazed contentedly, but they perked up their ears as Miriam approached. She dumped the watermelon rinds over the fence and watched as they ate greedily, nudging each other with their noses.

  “You silly old cows. You carry on as though you haven’t a thing to eat.” She gestured to the field. “See here, you have a whole pasture of green grass to eat, so why all the excitement over a few watermelon rinds?”

  Miriam lingered awhile, watching the doting mothers with their young ones. She was in no hurry to get back inside to more of Mom’s lectures, so she figured she may as well stay a bit longer. She longed for the day when school started in August, for she looked forward to teaching again. Being at home all summer gave her too much time to think. Even though there were always plenty of chores to do, it wasn’t the same as keeping her brain busy. Besides, when she was around home so much, Mom seemed more tempted to meddle in her life.

  Miriam leaned on the fence rail and watched with interest as a mother cow washed its baby with a big, rough tongue. For some reason it reminded her of the sight she had witnessed on Sunday when she’d stepped into Sarah’s kitchen and found Amos scrubbing his daughter’s face. The baby cow squirmed all around, just as Mary Ellen had done.

  “I suppose all little ones need a mudder to care for them,” she whispered.

  I

  Amos had just left his blacksmith shop and was heading to the house to get a jug of iced tea and to check on Mary Ellen, when Andrew Stoltzfus’s rig came into the yard.

  “Wie geht’s?” Andrew called as he stepped down from the buggy.<
br />
  “I’m doin’ all right. How about you?”

  “Can’t complain.” Andrew crossed his arms and leaned against the side of his buggy.

  “Were you needing your horse shoed?”

  “No. I actually came by to talk to you about my sister.”

  “Did you put in a good word for me like you said you would?” Amos asked hopefully. If Andrew had achieved any measure of success, then maybe it was time for Amos to invite Miriam on another picnic.

  Andrew shook his head. “My mamm spoke to her, but I’m afraid she didn’t get very far, so I figured it would be best if I didn’t stick my nose in where I’m sure it’s not wanted.”

  “I see.” Amos couldn’t help but feel disappointed. If Anna hadn’t been able to get through to her daughter, it wasn’t likely that anyone else in the family could, either. “Maybe it would be best if I gave up on Miriam,” he mumbled.

  “Or maybe you should try a little harder.”

  Amos dug the heel of his boot into the ground. “I invited her to go on a picnic with Mary Ellen and me, but she said no. I sent some wild pansies to school with Mary Ellen, but your sister didn’t seem to appreciate them. I even got up the nerve to tell Miriam I wanted to court her, but her response was that I should find someone else.”

  “My sister’s not allergic to flowers, if that makes you feel any better,” Andrew said with a slanted grin.

  “The only thing that would make me feel better would be if I could see Miriam smile the way she used to do when we were kinner.”

  Andrew pulled his fingers through the end of his beard as his smile turned upside down. “I don’t think I’ve seen her crack a full-fledged smile since William Graber ran off to Ohio and married some other girl, leaving Miriam with a broken heart and a horrible mistrust of men.”

  “She doesn’t mistrust her daed or any of her bruders, does she?”

  “I don’t believe so. Of course, none of us has ever given her any reason to mistrust us.”

  Neither have I. If she had given me a chance instead of William when we were teenagers, she would have found out that I wouldn’t have let her down the way he did. Amos kicked at a small stone with the toe of his boot. Course she didn’t know the way I felt back then, and she still doesn’t know it. Probably wouldn’t care even if she did.

  “You okay?” Andrew asked, taking a step toward Amos. “You’re not taking it personally because Miriam’s shown no interest in you, I hope.”

  Amos shrugged. “It’s hard not to take it personally.”

  “I can still put in a good word for you if you think I should.”

  “It’s probably better that you don’t. No point in ruffling your sister’s feathers any more than they already are. If it’s meant for us to be together, then it will happen in God’s time. I just need to pray more and leave things in His hands.”

  Andrew nodded and thumped Amos on the back. “Now that’s good thinking.”

  I

  As Nick sat at his office desk, studying the pictures he’d taken of several covered bridges in the area, he thought about Miriam Stoltzfus. He couldn’t believe she had affected him so much that he’d willingly deleted those great shots he’d taken of her drying her hair by the stream. Even though she had explained the reasons for not wanting her picture taken, it made no sense to him. In fact, he didn’t understand much about the Amish way of life, and he found Miriam’s reference to God and the Bible a bit irritating. Ever since Nick’s dad had been killed in a car accident, Nick had made his own decisions about life, and he didn’t need any religious crutches in order to deal with life’s problems. He believed that a man could be anything he wanted to be, do anything he wanted to do, and deal with whatever came his way.

  Sure hope I get the opportunity to see Miriam again, Nick thought. I should have asked for her phone number so I could call once in a while. He slapped the side of his head. Dummy. Amish don’t have phones in their homes, and those who do have phones for business reasons keep them in an outside building. It’s not likely that Miriam has a phone, and if someone else in her family does, I’m sure they wouldn’t appreciate her receiving calls from a nosy English reporter.

  The phone on Nick’s desk rang, rousing him from his musings, and he quickly reached for it. “Nick McCormick here.”

  “Hi, Nicky. It’s Aunt Nora.”

  “Hey there. How are you doing?” Nick was always glad to hear from his aunt. She was his only relative living in the area, and since he had moved here six months ago, he’d gotten to know her pretty well.

  “I’m doing fine. All but one of my rooms is filled with boarders right now,” she said. “I’d be happy to give that one to you if you’d like somewhere more peaceful and quiet to live.”

  “I appreciate the offer, but I like having an apartment in Lancaster because it puts me closer to the newspaper office.”

  “I understand.” There was a short pause. “If you don’t have a date for next Friday evening, how would you like to come over for supper?”

  “Are you fishing for information about my love life, Auntie?”

  “Of course not. I’d never do something like that.”

  He snickered. “Yeah, right, and frogs walk on their hind legs, too.”

  “You would tell me if there was someone special, wouldn’t you, Nicky?”

  “Sure I would, but there’s nothing to tell. I’m a contented bachelor and plan to stay one for as long as possible.”

  “You’ll change your tune one of these days when the right woman comes along.”

  A vision of Miriam Stoltzfus leaped into Nick’s mind, and he blinked several times, trying to dispel it. She wasn’t the right woman for him; he knew that much. She couldn’t be, because they were worlds apart.

  It was hard to believe it was August already and that today was the first day of school. Every year, the first day seemed a little hectic and unorganized, and today was certainly no exception. There were several new children in Miriam’s class, and since they were first graders and knew only their Pennsylvania Dutch language, they needed to be taught English. This took extra time on the teacher’s part, and it meant the older students must do more work on their own.

  Mary Ellen Hilty was in the second grade and already knew her English fairly well, but she still lacked the discipline and attention span to work on her own for long. From her seat in the second row, the child raised her hand and called out, “Teacher Mim, I need your help.”

  Miriam tapped her foot impatiently and frowned. She was busy helping Joanna and Nancy with the letters of the alphabet and didn’t want to be disturbed.

  “Teacher!” Mary Ellen called again.

  Miriam put her finger to her lips. “One minute, Mary Ellen. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

  Mary Ellen nodded, folded her hands, and placed them on top of her desk.

  When Miriam finished with her explanation to the younger girls, she moved across the room and squatted beside Mary Ellen’s desk. “What is it you need?”

  “I don’t know what this word is.” The child pointed to the open primer in front of her.

  “That word is grandfather,” Miriam answered. “You must learn to sound it out. Gr–and–fa–ther.”

  Mary Ellen looked up at Miriam, her hazel eyes round and large. “My grandpa and grandma Zeeman live far away. Grandpa and Grandma Hilty live in heaven with Jesus. So does Mama.”

  Miriam saw a look of sadness on the child’s face she’d never seen before. Usually there was a light in Mary Ellen’s eyes and a sweet smile on her lips. She felt pity for the little girl, knowing she had no one but Amos to look after her. No one but him to love.

  The light came back to Mary Ellen’s eyes as quickly as it had faded. “Danki—I mean, thank you for helping me, Teacher Mim.”

  Miriam gently touched the child’s arm, pleased that she had remembered to use only English words in her sentence. “You’re welcome.”

  Back at her own desk, Miriam found herself watching Mary Ellen instea
d of grading the morning spelling papers lying before her. The child never looked terribly unkempt, but her hair always showed telltale signs of not being secured tightly enough in the bun at the back of her head. Her face was always scrubbed squeaky clean, which came as no surprise to Miriam after watching Amos wash the child’s face that one Sunday morning in Sarah’s kitchen.

  Miriam shook her head, bringing her thoughts back to the present. She had no desire to think about that day or to be reminded of the things Amos had said to her. Regardless of everyone’s denial, she was convinced that Amos’s interest in her was purely selfish. A mother for his little girl was what he wanted most. Though Mary Ellen was a dear child and Miriam did have a soft spot for her, it was certainly not enough reason to marry or even to allow the girl’s father to court her. A woman should be in love with the man she planned to marry, and that possibility seemed seriously doubtful for her.

  Mary Ellen looked up and offered a warm, heart-melting smile, and Miriam found herself fighting the urge to rush across the room and hold the child in her arms. For one brief moment, she wanted to tell Mary Ellen that she would marry her daed and be her new mamm—that she would love her and take care of her needs. Instead, she turned her attention back to the spelling papers. What was I thinking? The idea of me marrying Amos is just plain narrisch—crazy. I don’t love him, and he certainly doesn’t love me.

  Miriam knew her students always looked forward to lunchtime, but she dreaded pulling the rope for the noon bell, because she would no doubt be caught up in a stampede as they made a mad dash for their brightly colored lunch buckets. Today was no exception, and she fumed as soon as she pulled the bell and was nearly knocked over by one of the older boys.

  “Slow down at once,” she scolded. “There’s no need for you to rush like that.”

  Kenneth Freisen grunted an apology, grabbed his lunch box, and walked slowly back to his seat.