Miriam and the Stranger (27 page)

Mose sighed. Next fall seemed an awful long time to wait before Miriam’s sweet presence came to live at his house. He should have taken Miriam up on her offer of an early wedding. The woman drew on his heart… but he knew if he didn’t establish his authority before the wedding, it would only become harder afterward. Once they’d said their wedding vows, he could go soft and kind with Miriam. At least to some degree. A woman still had to learn obedience. This he had never forgotten with Rachel, and neither must he forget with his second
frau
.

Mose sat at the kitchen table under the gas lantern. He opened the envelope and slid out the single page. The handwriting was not Miriam’s. He knew for sure now. He read the words.

Dear Mose Stoll,

I have something I should tell which concerns Miriam Yoder. I know that you were here awhile back and have fully researched Miriam’s past. I don’t wish to malign your efforts, but there is something you should know. Maybe this matter has only come up recently,
but I doubt it. Such a grievous breach of character as I observed could only happen if the flaw has been there for a very long time. But let me tell you what I saw, and you can judge for yourself.

I was out with my husband last Sunday afternoon for a family visit that took us past the community’s schoolhouse. As we approached my husband motioned with his head and said, “Isn’t that Miriam’s horse and buggy in the schoolyard, along with that
Englisha
man’s car, who’s been hanging around the community?”

“That’s impossible,” I told him. “Miriam’s at her sister’s wedding and the bishop’s ordination.”

“But it
is
Miriam,” my husband insisted. “As plain as day.”

“Well, she must have come back early,” I finally said.

I looked through our open buggy door as we passed, and what did I see but this Mr. Johnson kissing Miriam inside her parked buggy. I gasped so loud my husband jerked on our horse’s reins and we nearly ran off the road.

“He’s kissing her!” I told him.

My husband appeared irritated and laughed at me. “Now you’re seeing things,” he said. “Tyler has Bishop Mullet’s and Deacon Phillips’s approval, and you know what Miriam’s character is like.”

I was quiet and said no more. He is after all my husband, and yet I know what I saw. Please forgive my boldness, Mr. Stoll, but I had to let you know. I wish someone else would tell you, but I am the one who saw
what I did. I could go to Deacon Phillips with this report, but it wouldn’t be right to contradict my husband to his face in our home community. So I think this is best handled by your knowledge and judgment. For that reason I have written this letter and to clear my conscience of the matter.

Signed,

Your friend

Mose stood to pace the floor and glare at the white page. Could there be some mistake? But how? The woman was certain, and men didn’t always notice such things even when they happened right under their noses, especially when the incident involved a woman with an excellent reputation like Miriam’s. So what had gone wrong? How could he have missed this? But this was unthinkable! He ought to write Miriam at once and inquire into this matter. Perhaps there was some explanation. But what reason could be given for Miriam kissing an
Englisha
man? Apparently here was Miriam’s weakness, and he had completely missed it. Thankfully the problem had surfaced now and not after they were married. He’d take steps to deal with this at once.

Mose groaned as the shame rushed over him. He’d never live this down. He simply couldn’t have been this wrong in his judgment of Miriam. Nothing in her character pointed to this conclusion. She was too committed to the community, both in Oklahoma and in Possum Valley, and to the faith. That was part of what had drawn him to Miriam, and yet he had been wrong. At least he had held his ground and not given in to an early wedding. Now what must be done? Must he make another trip to
Oklahoma? He had told Miriam he wouldn’t, but this changed everything. He had no choice in the matter. He must go.

Thoughts raced through Mose’s mind. Sunday was his first church service as the community’s new bishop. He would be in charge. He had to be there. Only a funeral would serve as an excuse. If the community learned that their new bishop had raced out to Oklahoma to bring his promised
frau
under control, he’d be the laughingstock of Wayne County. Minister Kemp would nod his head and say that he had offered his sister Bethany as the proper choice but had been disregarded. Minister Kemp would further say that while the Lord’s wisdom could always be trusted in the lot, this outcome required a great deal of submission on his part. And there were some who would agree.

His rule as bishop would be off to a rocky start and might never recover. No, this must be kept under wraps. Still, someone had to be told. That was the first order of business. If the community here learned later that he had kept the matter secret on a subject that concerned him so intimately, his reputation would be damaged even further.

Mose grabbed up the letter, retrieved his hat and coat from the closet, and paused in the kitchen to turn off the gas lantern. He took a quick glance at the cold meat loaf, and his hunger stirred. He hadn’t eaten since lunch, but he must not keep Deacon Yoder up late on this his first official call as the community’s bishop. Who would have thought he would arrive with such news—a devastating accusation made against the woman he planned to marry.

Mose crossed the lawn in the falling dusk and rushed into the barn, where he harnessed his horse by the light that still crept in the barn window. He led the horse out by the bridle and had him on the road moments later. Tonight the steady beat of hooves on the pavement did nothing to steady his nerves. They sounded like the drumbeats of doom. Was his plan to take Miriam as his
frau
at risk? Deacon Yoder might advise that. Minister Kemp had already suggested that angle, and that was before this revelation. As a young bishop he would be expected to take advice easily. But could he stand the loss of Miriam? Could he abandon his hopes to see her in his house next year? Miriam’s every act of submission had raised his opinion of her even higher. What more could he ask in a prospective
frau
? He simply couldn’t lose her, even if he now knew Miriam had flaws.

Mose slowed the buggy as light from Deacon Yoder’s house came into view. He pulled into the driveway and tied his horse at the hitching post. The front door opened in front of him, and Deacon Yoder’s figure appeared on the porch.

“
Gut
evening,” Deacon Yoder called across the lawn.

“
Gut
evening,” Mose replied once he was closer. “I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”

Deacon Yoder lowered his voice. “Church trouble already? I had hoped matters would stay calm for a while, but with a new bishop I suppose things will stir themselves up.”

Mose swallowed hard. Surely Deacon Yoder didn’t blame him for fomenting church problems? He wouldn’t take offense anyway.

“This is a personal matter, I’m afraid,” Mose responded. “Is it okay if we sit on the porch swing?”

“Personal?” Deacon Yoder appeared puzzled. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Read this,” Mose told him. “I am shamed greatly, but I will not keep the matter hidden.”

Deacon Yoder raised his eyebrows but took the letter. He read in silence.

“So?” Mose asked when the deacon finished. “What should I do?”

Deacon Yoder pondered the question for a while. “It must of course be dealt with, though I must say that unmarried women
can kiss whom they wish, just not
Englisha
men. But it happens, you know, even to those who are promised, which I assume Miriam is?” Deacon Yoder gave Mose a quick glance.

“
Yah
.” Mose settled back in the swing. “We have spoken of our wedding date.”

“Which must now be put off, I would think, until this matter is resolved.”

“The wedding is not until the next wedding season,” Mose said. “I think there is plenty of time to work this out.”

Deacon Yoder appeared puzzled. “But you do love the woman, and yet your wedding is not until the next season? You are a widower, after all, Mose, and a bishop now. You need a
frau
at your house.”

“I thought we should set an example of restraint.” Mose bit off the words. He didn’t like questions like this. Couldn’t the deacon see the wisdom in his choice?

“Most men marry quickly after their first
frau
passes. You have already waited a decent amount of time.”

“I am not most men,” Mose snapped. “And I am not the problem here. Miriam is. Focus on that.”

Deacon Yoder raised his eyebrows but soon spoke again, “You could cut off the relationship, I suppose. That’s what most men would do, especially in your shoes as the new bishop. It’s not going to look
gut
.”

“I want the woman!” Mose glared off into the darkness. “And I know Miriam’s heart. She would not leave me for an
Englisha
man. Her character is too far above reproach.”

“That’s what you told us. And yet she is kissing an
Englisha
man.” Deacon Yoder let the accusation hang in the air.

“Speak no more on that point.” Mose raised his voice. “I know what the letter said. Tell me what we can do.”

“Okay.” Deacon Yoder paused. “Let’s see. First, Miriam has not
sinned exactly, but enough perhaps for a church confession. This should be given in Oklahoma, since that is where this happened and where Miriam lives. Second, I think you should be in attendance to receive the confession. It would look better that way. But I’d say you have some work in front of you. You could write ahead. Perhaps begin this conversation by asking Miriam for an explanation. You will wish to woo her back, I assume. She’s not your
frau
yet. Remember that.”

Mose got to his feet. “You speak words of wisdom, and I thank you. I’m sure you will support whatever action I take.”

Deacon Yoder held out the letter. “She’s your promised one, and you will have to live with her after you’ve said the vows. So do what you must.”

Mose grabbed the letter and stuffed it back into the envelope. “Thank you again for your counsel.”

A slight smile played on Deacon Yoder’s face. “I’m sorry this had to happen to you, Mose, but we all have our trials given to us by the Lord. Looks like yours has arrived early in your second quest for a
frau
. May you find the grace to bear the burden.”

“I’m sure I will,” Mose said as he beat a hasty retreat. Already he was being laughed at, although he was sure the deacon meant no unkindness. The matter would remain a secret with Deacon Yoder for the time being. The man was known for his tight lips on church matters. But he knew how rumors could circulate. The unknown woman in Oklahoma who had seen Miriam kissing the
Englisha
man would soon let something slip, and then the news would be out. He would have to make the trip to Oklahoma soon. In the meantime he wouldn’t write Miriam any more letters. Her guilt would grow with his silence, and she’d be even more ready to repent once he arrived with his strong rebuke. Mose untied his horse and climbed in his buggy to drive quickly out of the lane.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

M
iriam awoke with a start and sat up in bed. What was that noise? It sounded like heavy shoes running through the hallway, followed by a shout from outside that she couldn’t understand. The voice was clearly Uncle William’s. Some emergency must have occurred, but why would her uncle race outside in the middle of the night?

Miriam reached for the ticking alarm clock but stopped when her glance passed to the bedroom window. A soft flicker of red blinked on the drapes. Something outside was burning. But what? With a cry Miriam threw the covers aside and pulled on her heavy housecoat. The red light from the window was clearly increasing in its intensity. From below, the stair door opened with a bang, as if it had been thrown against the wall with great force.

Aunt Fannie’s urgent call filled the stairwell. “Miriam! Fire!”

Miriam opened her bedroom door and stuck her head out to answer, “I’m coming!”

Miriam grabbed a scarf from the top dresser drawer and tied it around her loose hair. This was an emergency, and the scarf would have to do for a
kapp.
She didn’t have time to put up her hair. Outside in the hallway Miriam took the stairs with care. Whatever the need was outside, she wouldn’t gain anything if she broke her leg on the way down. On second thought she should have taken the time to light the kerosene lamp. But it was too late now. Miriam felt her way with her hands and moved faster when the flicker of red light from the fire reached through the living room window. With a rush Miriam entered the living room where Aunt Fannie stood by the window with a quilt draped over her shoulders, her head bare. Wild light rose and fell on the house walls. Miriam hurried to her aunt’s side, and Aunt Fannie reached for Miriam with one arm. One look outside was all Miriam needed. The barn was on fire, and not just one corner. The whole length of the building was engulfed in flames that reached ever higher skyward.