Miriam's Quilt (5 page)

“We have noticed the change.” Mamm gave Susie a weak smile. “Maybe you are restless. A trip to Canada might help you realize how much you love Apple Lake.”

“The very thing,” Dat said. “Although wintertime would be a better season for that. Ontario is colder than a block of ice in January.”

Mamm clicked her tongue. “And Wisconsin ain’t? Summer will be hot enough to convince Susie that she doesn’t want to live there. The air is so wet, you can stick a cup out the window and catch a drink of water. Perhaps you should take Yost with you. He seems as restless as you do.”

“So she can go?” Miriam asked.

They all looked at Mamm.

“I don’t feel perfectly right about it, but if she is determined to go, I will trust her decision. She is seventeen, after all.”

Miriam leaped up and hugged her mother tightly. Susie stayed put in the rocking chair, nestled in her father’s arms.

She wouldn’t be able to stay there forever.

Miriam pulled a bolt of green-and-blue fabric from the shelf at Glick’s Fabric Shop and ran her hand along the muted watercolor design surely made just for her. The midnight blues were interrupted by lighter shades of cobalt and gray mingled with greens the color of crisp Wisconsin lakes and tall maples. The most beautiful colors of nature in one piece of fabric.

This was the perfect material for her engagement quilt. If she started on it now, she would finish well before she and Ephraim were published and she could give it to him on the day he proposed. By that time, Susie would be back from Canada, all would go back to normal, and Miriam would not have this constant hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach.

The haunted look on Susie’s face kept Miriam away from home as much as possible these days. She worked late at Martha’s quilt shop and visited Aunt Emma Weaver and Aunt Erla Miller often. And Miriam was always the first to volunteer to run errands for her mother. She didn’t want to be reminded of the pain, and she didn’t want to second-guess the decision to send Susie away.

Everything would be fine if they could both get through the next eight months without being discovered. Susie would recover, their family would return to normal, and Ephraim would never have to know.

Glick’s specialized in fabrics for Amish clothing but also had a good selection of material for quilts and other handicrafts. Miriam laid her fabric on the cutting table and thumbed through a basket of dress patterns. Frustration bubbled inside her. She had an awfully long time to sew a dress for her wedding. She could make twenty dresses before she and Ephraim were even published.

Suddenly, Miriam’s almost-fiancé walked into the fabric shop. Ephraim sometimes delivered packages for his dat, and today he carried two big boxes into the store along with a clipboard and invoice.

Miriam didn’t want him to see the fabric. She quickly picked it up and hid it behind her back. A silly thing to do, really, but she hadn’t time to come up with a better plan.

Ephraim’s eyes lit up when he saw her standing there. He laid the boxes on the counter, ran his fingers through his hair, and in three long strides was at her side.

“This is a wonderful surprise,” he said, flashing his bright teeth. “Although, where else would a person expect to find Miriam Bontrager than at the fabric store? They probably let you sleep overnight.”

His joy at seeing her overflowed into laughter. She would have been overjoyed as well if she hadn’t been caught in the act of picking out fabric for his engagement quilt. She would hate it if the surprise were spoiled.

“Delivering for your dat?” she said, backing away slightly. If she could manage to slip the bolt onto the nearest shelf, Ephraim wouldn’t be any the wiser.

Ephraim grew serious. “You’ve got a secret, Miri.”

Her heart did a somersault. Did he know about the baby?

“A secret? What—what are you talking about?”

His face bloomed into a grin. “What are you hiding behind your back? Is it a present for me?”

Relief washed over Miriam like a spring rainstorm. Of course he was talking about the fabric. What else? These days she jumped at her own shadow.

She shook a finger at him. “Oh no, you don’t, Ephraim Neuenschwander. You are not allowed to see behind my back. Turn around and march right out that door.”

“I want to see. You know I’ll die of curiosity if you don’t show me.” He bobbed his head right then left, trying to discover what Miriam held out of sight. She turned her body to block his view.

“I don’t want you to see.” My, but he was persistent.

In a swift movement, he reached over her shoulder and snatched the bolt from her hand. She tried to grab it back, but he opened his eyes wide and waved the fabric over his head like a flag.

When she gave up trying to retrieve it, he lowered the bolt and examined the pattern. “This is what all the trouble is about? Material?” He tucked the bolt under his arm and rubbed his chin. “You are making a quilt?”

Miriam nodded.

“For me?”

“Jah, if you must know.”

Ephraim hooted and did a little two-step shuffle with his feet. “For a certain event coming up in a couple of years?”

Miriam frowned and furrowed her brow. “Now you’ve ruined the surprise.”

“Don’t be cross. I
am
surprised. The surprise isn’t ruined at all.”

Miriam took a deep breath and swallowed her irritation. Ephraim didn’t deserve her displeasure. He was just having fun with her. “I suppose you’ll be surprised when you see the finished product.” She plucked the bolt from his grasp. “Get a good look, because this is the last time you will see the fabric until it is made into a quilt.”

Ephraim stuck his hands into his pockets. “I like it, Miri. I mean, I really do, but what would you think about picking out a nice brown instead?”

“Why?”

“I love brown. You are making the quilt for me, and I would like it better if it were brown.”

Miriam repressed a twinge of disappointment. “Oh, okay. If that is what you would like better.” She marched down the aisle to the browns. Ephraim followed. “What kind do you like?”

He studied the chocolate browns, chestnuts, and beiges until he pointed out a perfectly horrid tan, good for men’s underwear or curtains in a blind man’s sitting room.

“This is gute,” he said. “The quilt you make me should be simple, to keep us warm. That is what a quilt is for, after all.”

“I never thought about it that way,” Miriam said in concern. “Do you think my quilts are too fancy? I do not want to seem proud.”

“Quilts you make to sell can be fancy. They bring more money. But you and me are going to be an ideal Amish couple—pious and humble.”

A pot of trouble stirred Miriam’s insides, but she couldn’t put her finger on the reason. Was it sinful to surround herself with beauty? Surely the Ordnung did not discourage the people from keeping their homes as clean and as comely as possible. If so, no one would plant flowers or paint their barns. The quilt on Mamm’s bed had a double wedding ring design that sent a thrill through Miriam whenever she laid eyes on it. Was it gross vanity? Miriam’s head swam with questions.

“My mamm says Susie is going to Canada,” Ephraim said, running his hand over the bolts of brown fabric. “It wonders me why you didn’t tell me.”

“We made the arrangements only a few days ago. She will be leaving in four weeks.”

“Why is she going?”

“We have relatives up there. They need help on their farm, and she wants to get away for the summer…have an adventure, meet some new boys.” Miriam forced a playful smile onto her lips.

Ephraim raised an eyebrow. “An adventure? She’s not thinking of jumping the fence, is she?”

“Nae, she plans on being baptized when she comes home in the winter, Lord willing.”

Ephraim furrowed his brow and went so far as to put a hand on her shoulder. “I must tell you, Miriam, I don’t think this is a gute idea. You have never mentioned these relatives before. Are they trustworthy? Will they be careful to not let Susie fall into temptation? She is prone to it, you know.”

Miriam bit her bottom lip. Had Ephraim already sensed the truth? “It is an older couple with six grown children. They will take gute care of her. And I hear the Ontario Amish are more conservative than Pennsylvania.”

“I have heard that.” He pondered the information and folded his arms. “I suppose she will be okay. You should write her often.”

“I will.”

From behind the counter, a small, plump Amish woman called to Ephraim. He winked playfully at Miriam and went to get the woman’s signature on his invoice.

Miriam couldn’t stifle a grin. She loved it when he winked.

Once all the papers were signed, Ephraim set the boxes behind the counter and waved across the store to Miriam before disappearing through the door. The string of bells on the handle tinkled as the door swung closed, and Miriam marveled for the thousandth time just how blessed she was to have Ephraim’s affection.

Ephraim, so handsome and clever, could have had any girl he wanted. Miriam remembered sitting on Lizzie Herschberger’s porch after school with Lizzie and Frieda, waiting to catch a glimpse of Ephraim Neuenschwander as he walked home from school. Their ten-year-old dreams consisted of planning a wedding day with the best-looking boy in the district.

He took notice of Miriam when she was in the sixth grade, much to the envy of her friends, and asked her to walk home from school with him. The attention of an eighth grader became the high point of every day. As a young teenager, he had singled Miriam out as the girl he wanted to marry. “You are the prettiest girl in town,” he’d told her. “And not bossy like Lizzie Herschberger.” Every other girl in the district had swooned at Miriam’s blessed circumstances.

Miriam stared at the tan broadcloth for a good five minutes before she pulled it from between two potato-brown bolts and carried it to the cutting table. If she made a Nine-Patch design, she could dress up the tan with yellows and reds—give it some country charm. Surely Ephraim wouldn’t object to a Nine-Patch. The bishop’s wife had made a Nine-Patch quilt for her granddaughter’s wedding last winter. If it was good enough for the bishop, it would be good enough for Ephraim.

Feeling more encouraged, Miriam found a beautiful burgundy and a sunshine yellow to accent the tan fabric. It might be a beautiful quilt after all.

Only the best for Ephraim.

Only the best for their marriage.

“Whoa there, Daisy.”

Miriam reined in her horse at the top of the lane, where a small hand-painted sign stood at the entrance to Seth Lambright’s property. It looked lonely and insignificant, standing by itself under the shade of three tall maples. “L
AMBRIGHT
R
ANCH
” it read in black lettering that could only have been painted by a man. No well-formed letters, no neat, straight lines. It might as well have said “No trespassing,” for all the charm it conveyed.

Daisy had been Miriam’s companion for as long as she could remember. She was technically Dat’s riding horse, but Miriam rode her more than anyone else in the family did. It would have been fitting for Dat to give Daisy to Miriam as a wedding present, except that Daisy was a little long in the teeth. At almost twenty-six years old, Daisy was ready to be put out to pasture, literally. Dat knew that Miriam would love a horse she could ride for years to come.

Miriam patted Daisy on the neck and spurred her forward. Dread and eagerness warred inside her head. She dreaded seeing Seth Lambright again after all the hurtful things he’d said to her. Would he admonish her once more? Or treat her to the cold silence he so often gave her?

But those questions only motivated her to win Seth over, if she could, and convince him that she wasn’t a bad person, to show him that she bore him no ill will—even though she’d never seen the inside of his house.

Her desire to see her new horse overshadowed every misgiving she had about the visit. A new foal frolicking around the pasture was about the most adorable thing Miriam had ever seen. Her excitement at picking her very own horse provided all the motivation she needed.

She rode through the thick stand of maples that stood at the edge of Seth’s property. Once past the trees, Miriam slowed Daisy to a walk as the vibrant green of Seth’s alfalfa fields took her breath away. Set against the bright white of the fences and the brilliant blue sky, the pastures looked invitingly lush.

Almost a quarter mile down the hard dirt lane stood the old stable. Seth had come into the land when his old
dawdi
passed away and had no sons to sell the property to. He gave it to Seth for ten dollars an acre. At least that was the rumor. Miriam didn’t take a keen interest in Seth Lambright’s affairs.

The stable looked ancient. Rust from the hinges streaked down the edges of the large doors. Four long windows along the side were bare of glass, and the wood siding had long ago lost any hint of paint.

Miriam headed to the small door at the far side of the stable, where she would begin her search for Seth.

Before she got close, the door opened and Mary Shetler walked out of the stable with her baby balanced on her hip and her little daughter Annie holding tightly to her free hand. Miriam waved. Mary glanced around furtively, caught sight of Miriam, and walked quickly and resolutely in the opposite direction. Miriam was far enough away that Mary could pretend not to have seen her. But why did she? Mary Shetler and Mamm were good friends.

Miriam rode up to the door, dismounted, and secured Daisy to a shiny hook bolted to the side of the stable. It looked out of place against the weathered wood. She straightened her
kapp
and regarded the gray sweatpants peeking out from under her dress. Ephraim didn’t like the look of Miriam’s riding outfit, but surely Seth Lambright wouldn’t pay notice. His sister probably rode all the time.

She tapped on the door before deciding that knocking on a stable door looked a little silly. She cracked open the door, which squealed like an angry cat, and stepped hesitantly into the dim space. To her left was a small room with a desk and a cot that could in no way be ample for Seth’s long legs. A loft, stacked to the ceiling with bales of hay and bags of feed, loomed above the little room.

To her right, ten stalls ran the length of the stable, the stall doors as old and decrepit as the outside walls. The sun shone through the glass-less windows like beams of solid light, illuminating the particles of hay and dust that hovered in every barn ever built.

Miriam strained her ears. “Hello?”

No sound. Venturing farther into the stable, she heard water dripping into one of the troughs but couldn’t see a single horse. Probably all out to pasture.

“Hello,” she said again and listened to her voice echo off the rafters.

Light flooded the space as Seth opened the door across from her and marched inside. He stopped short as he caught sight of her. The surprise was evident on his face before he replaced the expression with a slight downward curl of his lips and a look of—what was it—concern? Like as not, he didn’t welcome her presence in his stable.

“You came after all,” he said.

She smiled as best she could—wanted to make sure he knew that she harbored no hard feelings. “I just saw Mary Shetler.”

“Did you now?”

She puzzled over his cryptic response and decided not to pry further. “Is—is this a gute time? I am sure you are busy.”

“The foals are out running with their mothers. Cum, I will show you.”

Seth motioned for her to lead the way and followed as she ambled out the door, and then he took up the lead to an adjoining pasture where two mares grazed while their foals jumped and ran around, testing their legs like two mischievous toddlers.

Miriam didn’t try to contain her enthusiasm. She clapped her hands in delight. “Oh, they are adorable! Cuter than kittens.” She giggled as one of the foals leaped into the air and kicked up his back legs as if he were showing off for her.

Seth seemed pleased with her enthusiasm. “The one with the white patch on his nose is a colt. The other is a filly. Both thoroughbreds.”

Miriam climbed one rung of the fence, wrapped her arms around the top slat, and watched the foals in silence. The short hair of their coats shone in the sunlight, and their long legs seemed disproportionate to their bodies. Miriam loved to see their developing leg and hind muscles flex and stretch. The colt was a chestnut brown while the filly’s coat was lighter, much like the tan Ephraim had picked out for his quilt—a beautiful color on a horse.

“Have you named them?” she asked.

“Nae. I thought you would want to name your own. Which one do you want?”

Miriam propped her chin on her hands. “They are both so beautiful. I feel like a mother forced to choose between her two children. Which would you choose?”

“Me?” He rubbed his chin. “That one might be something of a handful,” he said, pointing to the colt. It danced around the pasture.

“I can handle it.”

“I know you can,” he said, turning his face to the pasture. “You handle a horse like you were born in the saddle.”

Miriam suddenly felt shy and lowered her eyes. “Thank you.”

“Neither of these foals will ever throw a rider. I will train them well.”

“I know you will. I’ve ridden a horse you trained.”

The corners of Seth’s lips turned down slightly.

Miriam cleared her throat. “The pastures look very pretty. I love the golden Alexanders up against the fence. Did you plant them, or do they grow wild?”

“They’re volunteers,” Seth said.

“Your stable is nice and big. Lots of space and light. You must be very proud of all the work you’ve done here. The horses are very high quality, and the property is well-maintained.”

“This old stable is more than sixty years old. The only things well-maintained are my horses.”

“Nae, truly. The stable floor is clean and the stalls are gute size.”

Seth shook his head and cracked an uncharacteristic smile.

Miriam frowned and jumped down from the fence. “What is so funny?”

“You don’t have to try so hard.”

“Try so hard at what?”

“At getting me to like you.”

Miriam planted her hands on her hips. “Maybe you should try harder at getting me to like you.”

“I don’t care if you like me.”

“Oh, really?” Miriam arched an eyebrow. “Well, maybe I don’t care if you like me.”

“It’s too late to try to pull that one, Miriam Bontrager. I can read you like a book.”

“There you go again, thinking you can read my mind. If you are so smart, what am I thinking right now?”

Seth furrowed his brows and pointed to a bucket near the corner of the stable. “You are thinking you would like to pour that water all over my head.”

Miriam looked away. “Hmm. You really can read my mind.”

His eyes sparkled like a five-year-old with a frog in his pocket. She hadn’t expected that.

Her heartbeat quickened.

He wasn’t cross with her after all.

His momentary amusement gave way to that look of concern she saw earlier, and he took her by the elbow and led her to a short, rustic bench sitting against the side of the stable. The unexpected touch sent a warm sensation up Miriam’s arm. Ephraim wouldn’t have dreamed of taking such a liberty, but when Seth did it, the gesture didn’t seem improper at all.

He motioned for her to sit and then sat next to her. “Miriam, I need to apologize for what I said at the auction and then at your house. I hurt your feelings, and I wish I could unsay every word.”

“But you meant what you said, didn’t you?”

“I never should have said any of it.”

“But isn’t it how you feel?”

He fixed his gaze beyond her left shoulder. “I want to take it back.”

A short burst of laughter escaped her lips.

“What?”

“I like watching you try to dance around this,” Miriam said. “You meant every word.”

Seth laced his fingers together and rested his elbows on his knees. “But I still shouldn’t have said it.”

“I am sorry for behaving in a way that upset you. I have thought about what you said, but I am at a loss to know what I can do differently. I sincerely want to be better.”

He stared into her eyes for an eternity, as if he really were trying to read her mind. “You really do?”

“Of course. The last thing I want to do is turn a blind eye to my own weaknesses.”

He stood up and put some distance between them. “Most people do a good job of pretending they don’t have weaknesses. I am a good example of that. I should never have criticized you.”

She nodded in satisfaction. “At least you admit you are partly to blame for the fact that we hate each other.”

“Hate each other?” He looked troubled. “I hope not.”

Miriam gave him a teasing grin. “Oh, so you do care what I think about you?”

He relaxed his stiff posture—as much as she could expect from someone as somber as Seth Lambright. “You will never know. You cannot read minds.”

Miriam wished she could read Seth’s mind. She was dying to know what Seth had told the clerk the other day at the drugstore to persuade her to take Miriam’s money. But that question would take them too close to Susie’s difficulty. She could not bring herself to ask, even to express her gratitude for what he had done.

She stood up. “Can I come back next week to look at my horse?”

“Jah, but you have not told me yet which one you want.”

“When they are a little older, I want to come play with them. Then I will decide.”

“Play with them? Like puppies?”

“Jah, like puppies.”

Seth walked with her around the stable to Daisy. “I will take gute care of both of them until you return.”

Miriam turned to see two girls walking up the lane. Seth’s sisters. Laura, the older one, was about Yost’s age, and Priscilla was probably six. Priscilla’s feet were bare, and she cuddled a plastic doll in her arms.

Miriam’s face warmed when she remembered that her last heated exchange with Seth was when Laura’s name had been mentioned.

“Seth!” Still grasping her doll, Priscilla ran into her brother’s arms.

Miriam’s heart swelled when Seth gathered Priscilla into a hug, swung her around, and planted a big kiss on her cheek.

He brought her back to earth and turned his face to Miriam. “You know my sisters, jah?”

Laura didn’t smile but nodded in Miriam’s direction. Miriam tried to swallow her guilt and nodded back. She barely knew either of Seth’s sisters even though they were in her district. Laura attended gmay, but Miriam realized in dismay that she usually avoided the Lambright family at church. And Laura never came to gatherings. She had her own Englisch friends from the high school.

“I lost a tooth in school today,” Priscilla said as she transferred her doll to one hand and fished inside her apron pocket. She produced the tooth then smiled wide to display the small gap in front.

“Very nice,” Seth said. “Lose a few more, and you won’t be able to chew.”

“Tomorrow is the last day of school,” Priscilla said. “I am supposed to bring twenty cookies, and Laura said she would help me make them tonight. And you are coming to my program, okay?”

“I would not dream of missing your program. Let me hear what you are going to recite,” Seth said.

“Nae, it is a surprise.”

Miriam felt a bit ashamed at how little she knew about Seth’s sisters. Had she disregarded them as easily as Seth said she had? The thought would not quit nagging at her. She could start remedying that situation right now. “Are you still going to the high school, Laura?”

Laura put an arm around Priscilla and studied Miriam with unguarded suspicion. “Yes, I graduate next week.”

“Oh, that is nice,” Miriam said.

Poor family, to have a daughter jump the fence. Thank goodness Miriam’s family was firmly planted in the community and wouldn’t dream of embracing the Englisch ways.

The train of Miriam’s thoughts ran merrily down the path they always had until she stopped and examined where her notions were taking her.

Seth was right.

She had always felt superior to the Lambrights.

She, who had a sister with a horrible secret, found it easy to judge Seth for his very public misfortunes.

“Laura is going to the University of Wisconsin this fall, Lord willing.” Seth obviously didn’t view Laura’s choices as shameful or wrong. He put an arm around his sister. “She got a scholarship.”

Miriam found her voice and tried not to force her sincerity. “That is wonderful-gute. What subject will you be studying?”