A Merry Heart (25 page)

She was grateful Amos had been true to his word on their wedding night, but when he had reached for her hand a few minutes ago and said he wanted her touch, she’d become full of new doubts about whether he could be trusted.

She lifted her head and blinked a couple of times to chase away the tears in her eyes. “I will get through this. I’ll reach deep inside myself and find the courage to face each new day. And despite what Amos says or thinks, I do know what’s best for Mary Ellen.”

A routine was quickly established at the Hilty home, and even though Miriam found herself adapting to it, she didn’t think she would ever adjust to being Amos’s wife. Her heart longed for something more than wifely chores to do, but without love, a real husband-and-wife relationship was out of the question. Being a stepmother to Mary Ellen helped to fill a part of Miriam that seemed to be missing, but she knew it would never completely fill the void in her heart.

She didn’t want to admit it, not even to herself, but she found Amos’s presence to be unnerving. It made her keenly aware of the emptiness in her life. In the past, she had managed to keep her life fairly uncomplicated because she’d forgotten what love felt like. But now she had the strange
desire—a need really—to love and to be loved.

Longing for love doesn’t bring love into one’s life
, she told herself one evening as she washed the supper dishes.
The best thing I can do is keep busy, and I’ve certainly been doing a good job of that since I came to live here
. Her jaw clenched as she forced herself to concentrate on the task at hand.

Soon after Miriam had put the last dish away, Amos picked up his Bible to read as he had done every night since they had married. At first, she’d been irritated by the practice, since she had long ago given up reading her Bible every day. But now she was able to tolerate the ritual he’d established. It was a time when the three of them sat around the kitchen table, reading God’s Word as a family. Mary Ellen usually had questions, and Amos seemed to take pleasure in being able to interpret the scriptures for her.

“Tonight I’ll be reading in Proverbs,” Amos said as he opened the Bible. “‘Whoso findeth a wife findeth a good thing, and obtaineth favour of the Lord.’” He looked up and smiled. “That was chapter 18, verse 22.”

Does he think I’m stupid?
Miriam fumed.
I may not have the kind of faith Amos has, but I’m well acquainted with the Bible
.

Mary Ellen gave her father’s shirtsleeve a little tug. “Mama Mim’s a good wife, isn’t she, Pappy?”

“Jah, she is.” Amos glanced over at Miriam and smiled.

His piercing gaze made her feel uncomfortable, and she looked away, hoping he hadn’t seen the blush she was sure had come to her cheeks.

“Is there more in the Bible about Mama Mim?” Mary Ellen questioned.

“Let’s see,” Amos thumbed through the pages. “Here in
Proverbs 31, verse 27, it says, ‘She looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness.’ ”

The child gasped. “Pappy, do you mean that Mama Mim isn’t supposed to eat any bread? Won’t she get awfully hungry?”

Amos laughed, and Miriam did, too. It felt good to laugh. It was something she did so seldom.

Mary Ellen stared up at her father, her hazel eyes wide and expectant. Amos patted the top of her head. “The verse isn’t talking about real bread, Mary Ellen. The bread of idleness refers to someone who’s lazy and doesn’t want to work.”

Mary Ellen’s forehead wrinkled as she frowned. “But Mama Mim’s busy all the time. She ain’t one bit lazy.”

“Isn’t, Mary Ellen,” Miriam corrected. She glanced at Amos, hoping she hadn’t overstepped her bounds.

To her surprise, Amos nodded and smiled. “You’re right, daughter. Your new mamm is a hard worker.” He pointed to the Bible. “The verse is saying that a good wife isn’t idle or lazy, and it’s speakin’ about someone like Mama Mim. She looks well to our house and takes good care of us. She doesn’t eat the bread of idleness, because she’s not lazy.”

Mary Ellen grinned, revealing cute little dimples in both cheeks. “I’m so glad we have Mama Mim livin’ with us now.”

Amos looked over at Miriam and smiled. “I’m glad, too.”

Miriam’s face grew warm again, and she wasn’t sure how to respond. So she merely nodded and said, “I made some pumpkin pie today. Would anyone like a piece?”

“I do! I do!” Mary Ellen shouted.

Amos nodded. “Jah, that sounds real good.”

M
iriam looked at the kitchen clock on the wall above her head. It was one thirty in the afternoon, and Mary Ellen wouldn’t be home from school for a few hours yet. Amos was out in his blacksmith shop, and since he’d taken his lunch with him today, Miriam had been alone all morning. She found that no matter how busy she kept, the loneliness and sense of longing that had crept into her heart never went away. The longer she lived under Amos’s roof, the more those emotions intensified.

A knock at the back door brought her thoughts to a halt. Surely it couldn’t be Amos. He wouldn’t knock on his own door.

The door creaked as Miriam opened it, and a ray of sun bathed the room with its pale light. She was surprised to see her mother on the porch, holding a basket draped with a cloth. “What a surprise! I didn’t hear your buggy drive in, Mom.”

“I left it parked in front of Amos’s shop while he shoes my horse.”

“Ah, I see.” Miriam motioned to the table. “Have a seat, and let’s visit awhile.”

Mom set the basket on the table, then removed her dark shawl and hung it over the back of a chair. “I brought you a loaf of oatmeal bread,” she said, lifting the cloth from the basket.

“It looks good. Should I slice a few pieces? We can have some with a cup of tea.”

“Jah, that’d be nice.”

Miriam took the bread over to the cutting board. “How are things at Andrew and Sarah’s, and how did you manage to get away by yourself?” she asked as she sliced the bread and placed a few pieces on a plate.

“Things are going along okay, and I was given the day off because baby Nadine had a checkup at the doctor’s today.”

“Oh?”

“Jah, and Andrew and Sarah decided to take all the kinner along and make some time for shopping and a meal out after Nadine’s appointment.”

Miriam set the plate of bread on the table. “Didn’t they invite you to go with them?”

“They did, but I turned them down because I thought they should have some time alone as a family without me tagging along. Besides, I needed to get my horse shoed, and I saw it as a good chance to come visit with you for a while.”

Miriam smiled. It was nice to see her mother in the middle of the week. To be able to spend some time together over a cup of tea and some oatmeal bread made Miriam’s day seem less gloomy. She poured them each a cup of tea from the pot she’d placed on the table a few minutes before Mom had arrived and took a seat. “I’m glad you’re here. We don’t get to see each other much anymore now that I’m married.”

“That’s true, but we didn’t see each other much before you were married, either.”

“There was a good reason for that,” Miriam said. “Between my job teaching school and all the work you were doing at Andrew’s place, we were both too busy to spend much time visiting.”

Mom took a sip of tea. “I know how much you enjoyed teaching. Do you miss it now that you’re a
hausfraa
?”

“I do miss it some,” Miriam admitted as tears stung the back of her eyes. “But I’m learning to adjust to the role of being a housewife and a mother.”

“Speaking of being a mother,” Mom said, “I just found out yesterday that my sister Clara’s daughter Ada is going to have her first boppli later this fall. Ada’s due around the time of Lewis and Grace’s wedding in November.”

“That’s nice,” Miriam said, trying to make her voice sound as excited as possible. “I’m happy for Cousin Ada and her husband, Sam.”

“What about you, daughter? When do you think you and Amos will be starting your own family?”

Miriam reached for a piece of bread and took a bite, wondering how to let her mother know that she would never have any children of her own. It was a touchy topic, to be sure. One Miriam would rather not talk about.

“Miriam, did you hear what I said?”

She nodded. “I—I already have a family. Mary Ellen’s a good child, and—”

“I’m sure she is, but wouldn’t you like some kinner of your own?”

Miriam’s eyes flooded with tears, and she quickly looked
away so Mom wouldn’t notice. How could she explain that her heart longed for a baby but that having a child with Amos wasn’t possible because they didn’t share the same bed? And that no matter how badly she might want a boppli, it simply wasn’t meant to be.

“You and Amos haven’t been married long, so there’s still plenty of time for you to conceive. You just need to be patient, because kinner will come in God’s time, not yours.”

Miriam swallowed hard. “When you go out to Amos’s shop to get your horse, please don’t say anything to him about my not being pregnant yet. It might upset him.”

“Of course not. I won’t mention it to anyone, but I will be praying.” Mom patted Miriam’s arm. “My heart longs to be a
grossmudder
many times over, just as I’m sure your heart longs to be a mudder.”

Miriam picked up her cup and took a drink.
If you only knew the truth about my so-called marriage to Amos.

Amos had just returned to his shop after shoeing Anna’s horse and hitching him to her buggy, when she stepped into the room. “Done visiting already?” he asked.

She nodded. “I figured you’d probably be finished with Harvey by now, and I really do need to go back home and get supper started before the rest of the family returns from their day in town.”

Amos smiled as he looked up from the metal desk where he sat. “I hope Andrew knows how fortunate he is to have such a caring mudder.”

Anna’s face turned a light shade of pink, and she waved
her hand like she was fanning herself. “Ah, I don’t do anything so special. And if I thought I did, then I would be
hochmut
.”

“There’s nothing prideful about admitting that you work hard.” He smiled. “And you do work hard, since you help care for Andrew and Sarah’s kinner, do a multitude of chores around their place, and offer support and encouragement to Sarah whenever she feels down.”

“You know about her bouts with depression?”

He nodded. “Andrew’s shared a few things with me.”

“It’s not been easy for Andrew or Sarah to see Rebekah confined to a wheelchair, struggling to deal with her handicap, but Sarah has taken it the hardest.” Anna sighed. “I try to spend as much time with the child as I can, and since I discovered that she’s taken with the plants I have in my room, it gives us something we can do together—something Rebekah doesn’t need much help with at all.”

Amos leaned against his chair and folded his arms. “You’ve been as good for Andrew’s Rebekah as Miriam’s been for my Mary Ellen.”

Anna smiled, and her blue eyes fairly twinkled. “From what I can tell, Miriam loves your little girl as if she were her own flesh-and-blood daughter. She seems devoted to caring for that child.”

Amos couldn’t argue with that. Many times he’d seen or heard Miriam do or say something that had let him know how much she cared for Mary Ellen.
If only she cared that much for me
, he thought, as a feeling of regret coursed through his body.

“Have I said something wrong?” Anna asked in a tone of
concern. “You look so solemn all of a sudden.”

He was about to reply, when Bishop Benner entered the shop, saying he had a couple of horses he wanted shoed.

“I’d better be on my way home,” Anna said. “It was good talking with you, Amos, and danki for hitching the horse up to my buggy again.”

“You’re welcome.” Amos saw Anna out; then he turned to face the bishop. “Did you bring your horses with you, or do you need me to head out to your place to get the job done?”

The bishop motioned toward the door. “I brought ’em along.”

“All right then. Guess I’d best get to it.” Amos was glad he kept so busy these days. It helped take his mind off Miriam, who seemed to consume his thoughts more than ever. He knew that only the good Lord could change things between them, and he would continue to pray for such a miracle.