A Blessing for Miriam (14 page)

“How are you doing?” a male voice asked in Pennsylvania Dutch.

Shirley jumped. “Okay, I guess. I just got here.”

“There’s plenty to eat and drink. Help yourself.”

The young man’s face was in the shadows, which meant that hers was also well hidden. She would go no closer, Shirley decided.

“You want to go get something?” He motioned with his hand toward the wagons. “They ought to have some music up soon. A little rock ’n roll and a little country. Some nights they even have a few gospel songs.”

“No, I’ll stay here.” Shirley didn’t move. “You can go on though.”

“Sure you don’t want to come?” the stranger coaxed with a pleasant laugh.

“I think I’ll go over there.” Shirley pointed vaguely toward a group of young folks still in the background.

“Suit yourself,” he said and laughed again as he wandered off.

Shirley drifted towards the group she’d pointed out. She had to make a move in that direction at least, even though the man was
now lost in the crowd. Who was he anyway? It could have been anyone from the surrounding counties. There were hundreds of Amish young folks in the area, and then there were all the
Englisha
youth who joined in for the fun.

Shirley caught sight of Lee with a drink in his hand. Her brother loved sodas, which
Daett
didn’t allow on the Yoder farm. She peered at him again. That looked like more than just a soda. She’d look the other way, though. What Lee did here was his own business. He wouldn’t arrive home drunk, of that she was sure. Neither would Mark. Fear of
Daett
would see to that. She was the only one of the family so far who had dared defy
Daett
, and look how she’d ended up.

Shirley kept away from the lantern lights as she stepped near two girls who were in an animated conversation. “I told you,” one of them was saying. “I told you how many times already? The man’s not
gut
for you.”

“But I love him, and he’s so cute and…”

“That’s because you have no sense, Millie. No sense at all. You’re like young horses that can’t stay out of the oat bin. Look at where that gets them.”

“I could eat him alive, that’s for sure.” A giggle followed. “I’m going to marry him. I’ve already decided that.”

“Oh, Millie! Will you never learn?”

Shirley moved on with the girl’s exasperated protests in her ear. No, Millie probably wouldn’t learn.
She’s too much like me
, Shirley thought bitterly. At least she had the sense to cut ties with Jonas when things became too impossible. Perhaps she had more sense than she gave herself credit for.

A male voice stopped her again. “A
gut
evening, isn’t it?”

“
Yah
, it is,” Shirley allowed. Did she have some flag up that drew attention to her? It certainly wasn’t her face. She made sure that marred object stayed in the shadows.

Music began near one of the wagons and drowned out his
response. Because she didn’t respond, he repeated louder, “I said you must be new here.”

“How did you guess?” Shirley also raised her voice.

His laugh sounded soft. “You’re wandering around the edges, testing the waters.”

“It’s that obvious?” Shirley ducked her head as the lights from a car swept across the field. Over by the wagons the volume of the music increased.

“No, I’m just observant.” His smile was obvious even in the darkness. “Want to grab something to eat?”

Shirley shook her head and raised her voice. “Not tonight. Thanks, though.” He certainly must be observant, Shirley thought, if he noticed me with all the shadows around here.

“How about if I get you something, and we can move back a little further and talk?” he asked. The man didn’t wait for an answer before he moved toward the wagons.

Shirley wondered if she should fade away before he returned, but she remained rooted to the spot.

He soon returned with his arms full. “Here we go!” His voice was muffled. “Take some of these off my hands, won’t you?”

Shirley took a few of what looked like bags of pretzels and potato chips.

“And drinks!” he hollered in her ear.

Shirley drew back her hand but the cold drink was already between her fingers. She gripped the offered object before it crashed to the ground. Nothing
gut
would come from such a clumsy move.

Shirley held up the drink to get a look at it.

His chuckle could still be heard above the racket. “Root beer,” he told her.

“That it is,” Shirley replied, her voice drowned out. She wasn’t used to trying to converse in the midst of such noise. Visions of sitting in a quiet restaurant with Jonas filled her mind. With it came
a pain like a vise was tightened around her heart. She must forget those nights. This was the world she’d been born into.

“It’s quieter back there.” His voice was raised so she could hear him. He motioned toward the back of the crowd.

Shirley followed him. Harmless root beer meant he had no evil intentions. With all that was being offered, no wonder
Daett
frowned on these gatherings.

He paused to tilt his head and laughed. “There. This is better. Quieter back here. And here we even have hay bales set up to sit on.”

Shirley looked around. They were still in the shadows. Several more bales of hay dotted the area, although they were all empty.

“There will be more people joining us before long,” he said. “Couples like to be alone and talk. Can’t do that over there.”

A protest rose to her lips, but Shirley squelched it.

“Are you a farm girl?” He opened a bag of chips and shrugged when she didn’t answer. “You seem used to sitting on hay bales.”

“You’re a good guesser,” she finally said, trying to keep sarcasm out of her voice. She hadn’t expected this conversation to occur with a man on her first night at a
rumspringa
gathering.

His laugh was soft. “Isn’t that what’s interesting about nights like this—learning to know people? And such a nice girl like you.”

“You don’t have to turn on the charm for me.” This time her voice had an edge. “You’ll regret it.”

He glanced at her profile. “You’re a strange one, you know.”

“I didn’t ask you to come back here. You can leave if you want to. You’ll want to soon enough anyway.” She expected him to get up and leave but he didn’t move.

“Did I say something wrong?” he asked.

Shirley gathered herself together. “No. I appreciate the food, but it’s better if we just call it a night and each go on our way. You’ll meet someone else—a nice, pretty girl, I’m sure.”

He still didn’t move. “Something’s troubling you. What is it?”

“Nothing’s troubling me,” Shirley shot back. “You’ve been kind enough, but I’m afraid I’m just not very good company tonight.”

“What’s your name?” The question came quickly.

Shirley laughed with an edge of bitterness. “It doesn’t matter. ‘Girl’ is
gut
enough, isn’t it?”

“You’re definitely troubled about something,” he stated before taking a swig of root beer.

She should get up and leave, Shirley thought. But she stayed. He hadn’t seen her face yet. When he did, he would do the leaving. Why prolong the agony? Now desire rose inside of her. She wanted the cold, hard truth, didn’t she? She actually wanted to hear him voice the words that would cut like fire. She needed to hear them. To put herself where she belonged. Isolated. Alone.

“Come!” She pulled on his hand.

He didn’t draw back.

“Come and I’ll show you what’s troubling me.”

Shirley chose just the right spot. They would be alone but the lights of the lanterns still reached them. She turned and let the beams fall full on her face. She let him see the truth. She shouted to be heard. “This—this is what’s troubling me.” She pointed to her face.

He said nothing, his face impassive.

“Now, do you want to leave?” Shirley’s words were clipped.

He took her arm and led her back to where they’d been. Only then did he speak. “I can see what you mean. The destruction of such beauty must be an awful thing. The scars look fresh. It must have happened recently.”

His voice was at least kind, Shirley noted. It lessened the sear of pain at his acknowledgment that her beauty had been destroyed.

He continued. “I’m sorry something like that happened to you, but I’m also glad you showed me. You have great courage.”

Tears stung her eyes. “Now you see why this is the first time I’m
here. I used to have better things to do. Fancy restaurants and good times with a nice-looking man who had money and thought I was beautiful. Note that I said
was
.”

“I see.” He sounded pensive. “A fallen Amish princess. But you landed well…or don’t you know that?”

It was the kindest thing he could have said, Shirley thought.

“Now,” he continued, “are you ready to tell me who you are?”

“Shirley Yoder,” she choked out. “Eli Yoder’s daughter from this county.”

“Glen Weaver,” he said. “From up in Wayne County.

Chapter Fifteen

M
iriam awoke with a start on Saturday morning. The sun was up and illuminating the familiar Oklahoma countryside. The scene stretched all the way to the horizon outside the upstairs bedroom window of Uncle William and Aunt Fannie’s house. She was back home from the trip to Possum Valley, and she’d overslept. Throwing the covers back, Miriam got up and dressed quickly. Mr. Whitehorse and his
frau
had picked her up at the bus station in Coalgate after midnight, but that was still no reason to oversleep. She had a full workload of papers to correct at the schoolhouse, to say nothing of a hoped-for chance meeting with Wayne. She wanted to hug him and reassure herself that all was well between them. Of course it would be, she reminded herself. Her nerves were stretched from the long trip back and the sleep she’d lost on the Greyhound bus. One smile from Wayne would drive all her doubts away.

Rushing down the stairs, Miriam found Aunt Fannie busy in the kitchen with the breakfast dishes.

“You don’t have to break your neck coming down the stairs!” Aunt Fannie exclaimed with a smile. “You have the right to sleep in this morning.”

“I did sleep in…” Miriam found a kitchen chair and rubbed her head. “Everything seems a little hazy.”

Aunt Fannie laughed. “My head would feel horrible after a long trip in those Greyhound buses. Maybe you can catch a ride with a van-load traveling to Possum Valley when you head back after the school year ends.”

Miriam groaned. “I don’t even want to think about that long trip again, Greyhound or otherwise.”

Setting a steaming tray of bacon, eggs, and toast in front of Miriam, Aunt Fannie said, “I kept things warm. I didn’t want to ask too many questions at two o’clock in the morning when you came in, so start talking. Fill me in on the news while you eat.”

Miriam smiled. “You didn’t have to make breakfast. I could have fasted this headache away.”

“You’re doing nothing of the sort.” Aunt Fannie pulled up a chair. “I know you have all your schoolwork to plan for next week, and I’m sure Wayne will be by to see you soon. He’s working today in the greenhouse.”

“He is?” Miriam caught her breath.

Aunt Fannie’s face sobered. “If Wayne doesn’t talk with you, then speak with him. You need to. What you told me before you left, Miriam, well…well, you’d best talk with Wayne.”

Miriam clutched the edge of table with both hands. “What do you mean? Has something happened?”

Aunt Fannie shrugged. “I never thought the day would come when I’d say this, and I told William it might be all my imagination, which I hope it is, but still…”

Miriam reached for her aunt’s arm. “Tell me, please! I have to know. I’ve been worried sick all the way home—and even before that. It’s true, isn’t it? What I feared is true?”

“What’s true?” Aunt Fannie didn’t meet her gaze. “Maybe we’re not talking about the same thing.”

“Oh,
yah
, we are. Wayne and Esther Swartz. You saw them together while I was gone, didn’t you? Talking and…”