Autumn Winds (29 page)

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Authors: Charlotte Hubbard

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Miriam said her
aye
without a moment’s hesitation. It didn’t sit well with her that Hiram had sneaked into her café to persuade her to derail the vote, and to again propose marriage because it would improve his reputation. The longer she thought about his little speech—and that pie he’d ruined—the more peeved she got.
“We have a decision, then,” Jeremiah confirmed. “Will one of you ladies nearest the kitchen bring Hiram in, please?”
Everyone shifted on the benches as Millie Glick rose to fetch their bishop. Miriam bowed in prayer, glad she wouldn’t be meeting Hiram’s eyes as he entered the silent room. Even the slow, steady tread of his boots increased the tension among them as he stepped forward to receive word from the visiting bishops.
“The members have voted that you are to serve out a six-week shunning, which begins immediately,” Enos Mullet announced quietly. “We pray for you, Hiram, as you begin this journey of solitude and reconciliation. As you are not allowed to eat at the same table with other members, you are to leave immediately. I’m sure someone will bring your children home, if they wish to stay for the common meal and the visiting.”
Hiram’s expression darkened. Without a word, he reclaimed his hat from beneath the preachers’ bench and then stalked out. This time the door banged so hard the windows rattled.
“Our meeting is adjourned,” Jeremiah announced quietly. “If ever we had a need for a common meal that binds us together in fellowship, it’s now.”
Chapter 27
Ben hustled with the other men to set up the tables in the area where the service had been held. He wasn’t surprised at how they spoke about Hiram’s car—all his sinful secrets—in tones of dismay and disgust.
“Guess Hiram won’t be ridin’ on such a high horse now, for sure and for certain,” Ezra Brenneman remarked.
“Almost makes ya wonder what God was thinkin’ when He had the lot fall to Hiram years ago, ain’t so?” Henry Zook pondered aloud.
“Or, with all Hiram’s finaglin’,” Daniel Kanagy joined in, “ya gotta ask if maybe he somehow fixed it so he knew which hymnal the marker was in, that day he was ordained by the fallin’ of the lot. And I hate it that I’m even thinkin’ that way.”

Jah
, we can only hope bein’ under the ban tones him down a notch or two. He’s our bishop as long as he lives,” Wilbert Reihl stated in his breathy voice. “Sure hope none of our families leave Willow Ridge because they can’t trust him.”
In his travels, Ben had indeed heard of folks who’d moved from one district to another after personality differences had arisen with the bishop. While it was true the perfect bishop didn’t exist, it was a shame when members lost their confidence in the man who served as their spiritual leader.
He stepped out of the way as Rhoda and the two Knepp girls placed bowls of pink applesauce on the tables. It was good to see them working together—the same way they’d been crocheting together the other night. “Say, girls, I’d be happy to take your little brothers and Sara home so’s ya can stay with the young people for the singin’ tonight.”
Annie Mae flashed him a grin. “
Denki
, Ben, but your Aunt Jerusalem’s already got that covered.”
“She’s quick that way,
jah
,” he agreed. “And how are ya feelin’ about her and Nazareth stayin’ at your place while your
dat
’s under the ban?” he asked quietly. “I know from growin’ up next door to her, and bein’ a scholar in her classroom, that she can be kind of . . .”
“Assertive?” Annie Mae asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Controllin’?” Nellie teased.
“Bossy?” Rhoda added.
“All of those things and more.” Ben chuckled at the kitty-cat grins on their faces. “So if ya think she’ll be a little more high-handed than ya want to put up with for six weeks—”
Nellie shrugged. “She and Nazareth already have the boys and Sara writin’ their letters and spellin’ out words by sound. They sit at the table playin’ school, except it’s real learnin’. So if anybody can teach Dat a thing or two—”
“It would be Jerusalem Hooley,” Annie Mae agreed. “And while
we
couldn’t point it out to Dat if he was breakin’ the rules of his ban, she won’t let him get away with anythin’.”

Des gut
then,” Ben replied. “The aunts wanna be useful, and your
dat
and little brothers will give them plenty of chance at that.”
As the three girls returned to Preacher Tom’s kitchen for more food, Ben followed. He knew better than to get in the women’s way, because they were intent on getting the meal served. Aunt Jerusalem was tossing salads while Aunt Nazareth put forks on the turkey platters. He spotted Miriam at the kitchen table, cutting the pies for Naomi to carry out, and made his way among the other women to stand behind her.
“Can I have a word?” he asked quietly.
Miriam teased him with a brown-eyed smile. “Ask me real nice, and ya can probably have just about anythin’ ya want, Ben.”
He chortled, loving the way she’d kept her sense of humor despite the morning’s events. “If it’s all right with you . . . shall I make our big announcement? Folks are sayin’ so many negative things about Hiram, it might be a
gut
time to offer up a happier subject, ain’t so?”
“What a
gut
idea! Our friends’ll be glad to hear about us . . . and it means Hiram will be the last to know,” she added mischievously. “I didn’t tell ya yet, but he was waitin’ for me at the Sweet Seasons early this mornin’. Tried to sweet-talk me into marriage again, among other things.”
“And what’d ya tell him?”
“Puh!” Miriam resumed her pie cutting as she talked in a low voice. “Said I couldn’t marry him because I didn’t love him. Almost told him you’d spoken for me, but I thought that information deserved a better time—like now! So see?” she asked brightly. “Ya read my mind, Ben. Ya know me awful well, ain’t so?”
Ben grabbed her playfully by the shoulders. “Just you wait, perty girl. I might throw in a surprise or two for
you
, once I start talkin’ about our plans.”
He returned to the main room, feeling better about this whole day. It amazed him how welcome—how at home—he felt among these folks, and he knew almost every one of them by name already. Ben was pleased to see so many of them talking to his brothers about their new mill, too. Several local farmers had already bought seed for some of the specialty grains Ira and Luke wanted to process, so they were off to a productive start before the building was even constructed.
A few moments later, Jeremiah asked folks to be seated for the meal. By extending Tom’s kitchen table with all its leaves, and putting the plates close together at all the tables set up in the front room, the women had found a way for everyone to eat at one sitting. After a moment of silent grace they passed the platters of turkey and the other bowls of food.
Ben had ended up beside his brothers, while Miriam—acting as Preacher Tom’s hostess—ate in the kitchen with Naomi and Rhoda so they could refill water pitchers and bread baskets. He rose at his place and, with a big grin,
dinged
his spoon against his water glass. How could he not be delighted, making such an announcement? When Miriam winked at him from the kitchen, his heart fluttered. What a blessing it was—what a joy—to know such a fine woman wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.
“I want to share some
gut
news!” he began as the conversations around the two big rooms ceased. “First off, I want to thank all of ya for makin’ me—along with my brothers and my aunts—so welcome here in Willow Ridge. And while it might not be the conventional thing, sayin’ this at a common meal, I’ve never been a fella to stick real tight by convention. So why start now?”
Friendly laughter rose around him. Ira and Luke were watching him closely, and down the table Rhoda’s eyes widened, anticipating what he was about to say. He smiled at her, so grateful—to her and to God—that her crush on him had found a graceful resolution without hurting anyone’s feelings or damaging her relationship with her mother.
“Lemme guess!” Bram Kanagy called out. “You’re gonna park that blacksmith wagon and set up shop permanent-like, so’s ya can keep an eye on your brothers.”

Jah
, they’ll be needin’ it, too, if they’re keepin’ company with the likes of Annie Mae and Millie!” Jonah Zook called out.
Good-natured remarks rose around him, with more laughter. And didn’t it feel fine that folks here could tease him so freely while saying they wanted him to work among them . . . to live among them?
“The way I see it, that wagon comes in mighty handy, bringin’ my farrier work to you instead of makin’ you haul your weldin’ and horses to me,” he replied. “But
jah
, I’ll be settin’ up shop, too . . . right there at the same forge where Jesse Lantz worked. And I thank Miriam for makin’ that possible, and because—well, we’re gonna get hitched!”
An “oh!” went up in the kitchen while the men around Ben nodded and murmured “
jah!
” and “
des gut!

“Wait’ll Mamm hears this!” Ira crowed. “She thought she wouldn’t live to see the day!”
Beside him, Luke began to clap enthusiastically. Soon, the applause spread all along the table, and even Jeremiah Shetler and Enos Mullet expressed their congratulations.
“It’s Miriam I’m happy for,” Preacher Tom said. “Not only is she gettin’ herself a fine new husband, but now Hiram’ll have no choice but to leave her be. Congratulations to the both of ya—and we’re mighty glad ya told us, too. Makes my day!”
Ben beamed, his heart throbbing. He met Miriam’s eyes as her friends in the kitchen got up to congratulate her. When the commotion settled, he held up his spoon to signal that he wasn’t finished. “It just so happens the parcel of land across the road from the Sweet Seasons—that piece Preacher Gabe sold off—will be the site for our new home,” he went on. “Miriam said she wanted to be within walkin’ distance of her kids and her work. I’m sure you will all be happy to know that she’s gonna run her bakery and café as long as it pleases her.”
The Brenneman brothers and the Kanagy boys—and Preacher Tom—resumed the applause. Ben couldn’t recall ever seeing a houseful of Plain folks so expressive, or so excited, but didn’t this happiness look good on their faces? He smiled at them all. No doubt about it: he’d done exactly the right thing, deciding to stay in Willow Ridge. And he’d found exactly the right woman after years on the road.
“Mostly I want to thank the
gut
Lord for watchin’ over me, and bringin’ me to this new life,” Ben said in a more serious tone. “Okay, I’m finished now. But this is really just another beginnin’, ain’t so?”
 
 
Preaching Sundays were all-day affairs, a time set apart from the work week to visit with friends and family. By the time the women had served a lighter evening meal and then put Tom’s kitchen back to rights, it was getting dark. The young folks would start their singing soon, and Miriam was glad the Zooks were helping Tom host the evening’s activities. As Ben and his aunts helped load her serving dishes into the wagon, Miriam waved good-bye to Rhoda . . . who was winding a kapp string around her finger, having a flirtatious conversation with Ira Hooley. Jerusalem and Nazareth herded the younger Knepps into their carriage, and off they went to the bishop’s place.
“Well, finally!” Miriam whispered when she and Ben stood alone beside the loaded wagon. She tugged him toward her for a kiss. “And aren’t you the smarty-pants, buyin’ that land across the road from home!”
Ben held her close. His warmth did more than shield her from the chill of the evening breeze: it made her feel secure and oh, so loved. Miriam knew for sure and for certain that never in her life had she felt so happy. So contented and complete.
“Won’t be long before that place across the road
is
home,” he murmured. “I was real glad when Micah told me he and his brothers could start us a house as soon as they finish the mill. They’re welcomin’ the work, and—”
“And while it’s a sad thing, why Preacher Gabe needs that money,” Miriam said, “it was
gut
to hear somebody from outta the district hadn’t bought it.”
Ben’s smile gave her goose bumps. “Did ya hear what ya just said, perty girl? You’re talkin’ like I’ve been around Willow Ridge forever.”

Jah?
Well, startin’ now, that’s how it’s gonna be, ain’t so?” Miriam grinned up at him, for Ben Hooley wasn’t the only one who could pull a surprise or two. “I know when I want us to get hitched, too.”
“Oh,
jah?
You’re soundin’ awful independent, Miriam,” he teased. “Better get that outta your system, ya know, on account of how wives are to submit to their husbands.”
“Puh! Ya think I haven’t already submitted, just sayin’ I’d marry ya?”
Ben laughed so loud that the horses in the corral turned to look at them, their ears pricked forward. Pharaoh, standing closest to the fence, whickered and tossed his fine black head, impatient to be hitched up.
Miriam stood watching Ben . . . the way his body moved so fluidly as he jogged over to the gate . . . the way he and his stallion communicated without the need for words. Within minutes, Ben was helping her onto the wagon seat, and when he’d hopped on from the other side, he kissed her full on the mouth. “Now what were ya sayin’ about submission—and a wedding date?”
“New Year’s Day.” She grinned, nodding emphatically. “
Jah
, it’s on a Thursday, the best day for marryin’. But it’s a whole new beginnin’—a clean calendar of days to spend any way we want! And I wanna spend them with you, Ben.”
Ben’s hand went to his chest. “Ya just took my breath away, woman,” he whispered. “My heart’s poundin’ so hard, the skin’s pullin’ where Pharaoh left his mark on me.”
Miriam placed her hand over his, to feel his heartbeat . . . the steadfast love she knew this man would never run short of. “And if ya think your horse marked ya for life, Ben,” she murmured, “just wait until
I
get ahold of ya!”

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