Miriam and the Stranger Read online

  Tyler hesitated only a moment before he followed their example. Miriam knew she shouldn’t follow the man’s every move, so she too closed her eyes and focused on the words as Uncle William concluded, “And now our most gracious Father in heaven, we give into Your hands this evening and the night that lies ahead. Be with us and give us Your forgiveness and blessing as we also extend to others the grace that You have bestowed upon us. Amen.”

  A ghost of a smile played on Tyler’s face when Miriam looked up. He had probably never heard a prayer like that before, but Aunt Fannie had said he wanted to experience Amish life, so he shouldn’t be surprised. Heartfelt prayers were an everyday occurrence at Uncle William’s house.

  Miriam returned her gaze to the table for a few more moments before she looked up again. Aunt Fannie’s hands were a whirlwind of motion as she passed the food. Tyler still had his smile as he took small portions from each bowl.

  Uncle William noticed Tyler’s selections and teased, “Come on, now. Heap it up high. This is Amish country, and you have to experience the fare like the locals do.”

  “There will be seconds,” Aunt Fannie said at once, “so don’t pay any attention to William.”

  Tyler grinned. “Everything looks very good, ma’am. I’m sure I’ll have seconds and eat nothing tomorrow to make up for it.”

  “Now, that’s city talk,” Uncle William said with a chuckle.

  “Yes, but we don’t all work like the Amish do, you know.”

  Miriam tried to smile, but couldn’t. What was wrong with her? She had never been affected by an Englisha man like this. She must remind herself that after tonight she would never see Mr. Johnson again. Maybe then she could at least eat.

  “So what do you do for a job?” Aunt Fannie asked Tyler as she filled her own plate.

  “I’m a freelance journalist,” Tyler replied. “I usually only pursue stories that interest me, but I take some work on assignment, like the story I’m on now.”

  “A writer!” Aunt Fannie glowed. “A real one.”

  Uncle William laughed. “Yah, I think he’s real all right.”

  Tyler appeared amused at the third-person address but said nothing as Aunt Fannie continued. “Oh, that is so wunderbah! What are you writing about?”

  Tyler set his fork down before he answered. “My current assignment is an article about the severe tornadoes that came through here two years ago. The focus is to be the Amish, as I believe quite a few of your farms were damaged. We’ve been told that Amish have quite a record of community involvement in the cleanup and reconstruction afterward. My editor thinks your loss and response could be of wide interest to the public.”

  “This is true,” Aunt Fannie allowed, “but there were lots of people in Clarita who had losses—not just us.”

  “I agree,” Tyler said, “and that’s not being ignored. But you’re the only Amish community affected by the tornadoes. In addition, readers are interested in the community’s life. They want to know how you’re doing now two years later… how this has affected your outlook on life, and especially how you all managed to rebuild without insurance. On top of that, my research shows that the Amish community made quite a large contribution to the Clarita Community Relief Fund. That’s of great interest to the public. How did the Amish rebuild without insurance and still have a large amount of money left to give to others? Apparently there is much to learn from your lifestyle. Much we English could learn from it.”

  Tyler smiled disarmingly, but Miriam saw in her aunt’s and uncle’s faces there was no need. Neither one had objections to his article, though normally there would be hesitancy about any outside scrutiny of the Amish community. Uncle William must feel an obligation to be open about the matter. But how open? Miriam paled at the question. Certainly Uncle William’s lips would be sealed about the two million dollars she had given Deacon Phillips, the monies Mr. Bland had left her in his will. No one in the community had spoken of the matter since the tornadoes that had caused such havoc and had taken Wayne’s and his sister Lois’s lives.

  “We can all learn from each other,” Uncle William said with a sober look. Thankfully no one looked her way at the moment to see her pale face.

  “Yes, indeed. I’m sure we can learn from our different cultures,” Tyler said with a smile. “And that’s why I’m here.” Tyler turned toward Miriam. “But I won’t attempt any teaching on my part. I’ll leave that to our esteemed schoolteacher.”

  They all laughed, and Miriam tried to join in. When the laughter quieted down, Uncle William spoke up. “Like I told you earlier, Tyler, you’re welcome to tour the greenhouse again tomorrow. And I can give you the addresses of some of the community’s storm-damaged properties. Most of the buildings were rebuilt right after the storm, and some of the houses were added on to. I imagine you want pictures, but you’ll have to sneak those when no people are in the scene. Beyond that I can’t speak for anyone. You’d best speak with Deacon Phillips about money questions. He was the one who handled contributions to the relief fund.”

  “I will do that,” Tyler agreed as he finished the last of the food on his plate. Aunt Fannie grabbed the mashed potato bowl and passed it around again. With a boyish smile, Tyler took a large spoonful and ladled on some gravy. He reached for a piece of bread and added thick slabs of butter followed by jam. “This is amazing food, ma’am,” he said. “I’d be a fattened hog in no time if I stayed around here very long.”

  “We’d just have to work you all the harder,” Uncle William said with a grin.

  Tyler turned to Miriam again, and she caught her breath. “So what does an Amish schoolteacher of impeccable character teach in her classroom?”

  Miriam’s mind whirled, but she finally managed to form her thoughts. “Lots of things, I guess. We had arithmetic tests today. All the grades did pretty well, but the third grade especially.”

  “All the grades?” Tyler appeared puzzled.

  “She teaches all eight grades,” offered Uncle William, who regarded Tyler with a steady gaze. “That’s how we do things.”

  “All eight grades?” Tyler repeated. “I thought there were twelve grades before college.”

  Uncle William shook his head. “Not for us, there aren’t. This system of eight grades used to work for everyone, but the public schools stopped teaching the basics years ago.”

  Tyler’s surprise was evident. “I see.” He turned back to Miriam. “Eight grades and one teacher. That’s quite an accomplishment.”

  “Thanks.” Miriam tried to smile. Nothing seemed to work right in her brain right now. If Tyler weren’t so handsome and charming, maybe she could think straighter.

  “So your children only go to the eighth grade?” Tyler seemed to be processing the information further. “That’s… unusual.”

  Aunt Fannie gave Tyler a quick glance and bounced to her feet. “Okay, enough of that for now. Is everyone ready for pie and homemade ice cream?”

  Tyler grinned. “Sounds great to me.”

  So this was why Aunt Fannie had been late with supper. She must have left the ice cream in the basement so it wouldn’t melt but had failed to inform her. This was her chance to move away from Tyler for a few minutes and catch her breath.

  “I’ll get the ice cream,” Miriam said as she got up and headed for the basement. As much as she hated to admit it, the truth was she found herself starstruck at Tyler’s presence. Surely it would pass by tomorrow morning. After all, everyone had weak points, and this was hers. This would be a much-needed lesson in humility. Heat crept into Miriam’s face at the thought. She rubbed her cheeks with both hands before she found the crankcase of ice cream near the stairs and carefully opened the lid to dip the creamy contents into a large bowl. When the bowl was full, Miriam paused for several deep breaths before she attempted the return trip. She had to sober up and act like the decent Amish girl she was.

  With her face set, Miriam climbed the stairs to enter the kitchen again. She even managed a decent smile when Tyler looked up.
This was much better, Miriam told herself, but the man still exuded charm that made her weak all the way down to her toes.

  Chapter Three

  The following Sunday at the morning service, Miriam shifted on the long church bench for a better view of the visiting minister. He had stood to his feet a few minutes ago to begin the main sermon. His face was serious and thin, his shoulders narrow. He wasn’t tall, but his pinched features made him appear so. His gaze pierced the room as silence fell over the gathered congregation. Clearly this was a man of God who took his calling seriously, Miriam thought, as she sat up straighter.

  Without warning, the memory of Tyler Johnson, the Englisha man, as he laughed last week at Aunt Fannie’s kitchen table floated in front of Miriam’s eyes. She pushed the image away at once. Tyler Johnson was a most inappropriate thought to have in the middle of a Sunday morning service. But ever since that evening, visions of Tyler Johnson appeared at unpredictable moments. If this kept up she would have to confess her weakness to someone, preferably only Aunt Fannie but perhaps also Uncle William. What an embarrassment that would be. Both of her relatives thought so highly of her while the truth of the matter was that their schoolteacher couldn’t keep thoughts of an Englisha man out of her mind. Miriam dropped her head for a moment. Why did she continue to see Tyler’s handsome face in her mind? The question sent chills all the way through her.

  Miriam looked up again and the piercing gaze of the visiting minister seemed to settle on her. But that wasn’t possible, Miriam told herself. The man didn’t know her—unless her guilt had drawn his attention. Could he see straight into her heart?

  Thankfully, the minister’s gaze moved on, and he continued to speak in a low voice. “Dearly beloved brothers and sisters in the Lord,” he said. “We are gathered again on this morning of the Lord’s day to prepare our hearts once more for a life of obedience and service. This determination must continue while we breathe and walk on this earth. Let us pray that mercy and grace would be given us, and that we might live humble and broken lives before the almighty God in heaven.”

  Those words were exactly what she needed to hear, Miriam told herself. Maybe she’d find true repentance in her heart from her fascination with Tyler Johnson. Where this minister had come from, she had no idea. She had seen him before the service as he climbed down from Deacon Phillips’s buggy. She had noticed no wife, so the man must be single. No Amish man traveled any distance without his frau unless there was a disaster in another community and the menfolk had gone to help with the work. But this community had experienced no crisis recently.

  Miriam focused on the sermon again. She studied the minister’s face as he spoke earnestly, “Can light and darkness dwell together? Can good and evil take up residence in the same heart? I warn us, dear brothers and sisters, that these things cannot be. Either we serve God or we serve the world and all its evils. Let us look well this morning on where our feet are leading us and beg for grace to change our lives if we have gone astray.”

  Miriam shivered and breathed a quick prayer. “Help me, dear Lord, and please guide my feet. I’m sorry about my feelings toward that Englisha man, Tyler. I know I shouldn’t have felt what I did, and worse… what I still feel.”

  There! She had confessed it to the Lord. Was that not the first step in the right direction? Maybe now thoughts of Tyler Johnson and his charm would no longer haunt her.

  Miriam froze as the minister’s gaze settled on her again. He still spoke, but his eyes didn’t move on after a few seconds. She waited, unable to look away. Had the Lord given his servant a glimpse into her soul? This couldn’t be, Miriam told herself as a tender look crossed the minister’s face. Did the man know her? That also wasn’t possible. Thankfully, the minister’s gaze had moved on again, and she could breathe. She really needed to do something about her feelings for Tyler Johnson. Her guilt made her imagine way too many things. More prayer was needed to cleanse her heart… and soon!

  The sermon continued, and Miriam kept her head down for the next thirty minutes. It was best that way, and she could still hear the sermon. The words of exhortations to holy living were what she needed.

  As the message concluded, Miriam took a long breath of relief. Thankfully her thoughts had calmed down, and she hoped Tyler Johnson was banished from her mind completely. Miriam stood up after the last prayer to volunteer her help with lunch and was assigned to the married men’s table. With her hands full of jelly and peanut butter jars, Miriam approached the rows of bearded men. They politely moved sideways on the benches to give her room to work, and her hands were soon empty.

  On the second trip, Miriam caught Aunt Fannie’s bright smile of encouragement from the married women’s table. Thoughts of Tyler Johnson seemed far away and unreal at the moment. How could she even think of an Englisha man in such a way? This was where her joy was filled to its fullest. She was the community’s schoolteacher and loved for her dedicated service. If anyone knew her thoughts… Miriam paled and almost stumbled on the hardwood floor. Nee, she must not allow Tyler Johnson to disrupt all that. Certainly the Lord would protect and guide her through this weakness. Aunt Fannie would love her even if she found out Miriam had experienced a starstruck moment over a handsome Englisha man. Hadn’t Aunt Fannie experienced moments of weakness in her rumspringa time when she had dated an Englisha man? Yet Aunt Fannie had survived and made the right choices. That was a comfort she must hang on to.

  As Miriam approached the other end of the married men’s table, Deacon Phillips looked up to say, “Well, if it isn’t Miriam Yoder, our schoolteacher, serving the tables today. What a blessing you are.”

  “Don’t say that so loudly,” Miriam whispered back. Heat crept up her neck. The visiting minister was sitting right beside Deacon Phillips.

  Deacon Phillips chuckled, and the minister turned around to look up at Miriam. The tender look from earlier in the day filled the man’s face. “So this is Miriam. I thought she might be the woman I was told about.”

  “Yah, our very own Miriam,” Deacon Phillips said with a grin. “And Miriam, this is Mose Stoll, from near your area in Possum Valley. He’s visiting us for a while.”

  “Hello.” Miriam choked on the word. What was she supposed to say?

  “Gut to meet you,” Mose said, the tender look still on his face.

  Deacon Phillips continued as if Miriam wasn’t present. “She’s as faithful a member of the community as one could wish for, Mose, and a gut schoolteacher on top of that. I don’t know what we’d do without her.”

  The bowl of peanut butter slipped from Miriam’s fingers and dropped to the table with a loud bang. Her face must be blazing. What on earth was Deacon Phillips up to? Why was he singing her praises to this strange man?

  Mose regarded Miriam with a steady gaze. “The Lord guards the hearts of men and maidens alike,” he said. “It’s gut to know His work produces such comely results.”

  Deacon Phillips chuckled again. “Yah, like my own frau, Katie, Miriam is a jewel. Any man who can capture her heart has done well.”

  “I can see that,” Mose said with a nod. “This Miriam has been blessed by the Lord indeed.”

  Miriam fumbled with the last peanut butter bowl and nearly dumped the contents into Mose’s lap. What had gotten into Deacon Phillips? In a quick motion, Miriam pushed the bowl away from the two men. It slid across the table and stopped with a clink against the red beet dish. Splashes of red juice went airborne and then landed on the tablecloth and spread out in a slow stain. Several bearded men looked up with surprised expressions on their faces. They had been involved in their own conversations and hadn’t heard the flattery about her. Well, they would have to think her a clumsy klutz. She was not about to explain. With quick steps Miriam fled back to the kitchen and slipped into a corner to calm her nerves.

  This wasn’t like Deacon Phillips at all. Nor was it like a visiting minister to pay so much attention to an unmarried woman—unless the man was here on a search for a frau. Miriam’s hands
tingled. Could this be true? Was the minister on a search for a frau to replace one who had passed away? He was too old to have never been married. And he didn’t appear nervous around women. That could mean only one thing. He had been married before to a godly frau who had honored and obeyed him.

  Miriam tried to breathe deeply. The married men’s table still needed attention, and she was in no condition to help. But surely she was wrong about the visiting minister. No Amish man of such high regard would simply appear in a community and pick her out of the crowd.

  “Get a grip,” Miriam whispered out loud. Thankfully none of the other women heard her in the loud bustle of the kitchen, but she would have to go back. Miriam filled her hands with bowls again and headed for the married men’s table—at the other end this time.

  “We could use some more bread,” a man’s soft voice spoke. Miriam jumped.

  She gave John Kuntz, the father of one of her students, a nervous smile. “Yah, of course. I’ll be right back.” After a quick dash to the kitchen, Miriam handed the plate of thick homemade bread to John.

  “How’s Carrie doing in school?” John asked.

  Miriam tried to relax. “Carrie’s doing gut. She tries hard and thinks she has to get one hundreds on her papers all the time. That’s not necessary, of course.”

  John’s laugh was soft. “Her mamm and I have told Carrie that, but the girl is driven to succeed. I think she takes you as her example.”

  “Now, don’t say that,” Miriam scolded. What was this? Compliment the schoolteacher day?

  “It’s true, nonetheless,” John said. “We’re blessed to have you in the community, Miriam.”

  “Thanks,” Miriam managed as she turned to flee once more to the kitchen. How could the men of the community say such wunderbah things about her? They certainly didn’t know about her starstruck moments with an Englisha man. Thankfully the married men’s table now had all the food it needed. Miriam stayed in the corner of the kitchen until Bishop Mullet announced the closing prayer of thanks. Silence fell among the women, and Miriam bowed her head as the bishop’s clear voice led out in the benediction.