Chapter 40
Moses wasn’t sure if Miri would come or not. He wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t. The whole community had bullied her into signing that form, and he knew it. They didn’t do it directly to her face, but they did it all the same, and that was wrong—truly and completely wrong.
But one good thing had come of it . . . or he hoped one good thing might come of it.
A verse from Genesis had been stuck in his mind all day about how people could mean something for one purpose—even to be harmful—and Gott could use it for something else completely.
Maybe this was the same. Maybe this push to get the land into Yoder hands again could set everything right, after all.
Maybe it wasn’t about land, but about hearts and people and possibilities.
So Moses prayed all day, fed Miri’s three animals a little extra hay, gave Bitsy a good pet between the ears, and sent the neighbor boy off with a letter, and then he’d come inside to cook.
His family had no idea what he was up to, and he wouldn’t tell them until it was over. They meant to get this land into family hands, but Dawdie had seen something in Miri that no one else saw . . . something that Moses could now see clearly.
She was wonderful. Miri Schrock was kind, sweet, hardworking, and smart.
And, sure, she sewed a split in her skirts and tramped out there with the cattle, but she was happy doing it, and the farm would be better for it too.
The family wanted the land, and, well, Moses wanted Miri.
Convincing her might be the problem, though.
Moses fried up some sausages with onions and potatoes, and he got some carrots from the overgrown garden and boiled them up in a pot.
If he weren’t keeping secrets, he’d have asked his mamm to make something he could’ve brought along for the meal that would’ve tasted a far sight better, but it was important to be honest—even brutally so.
This was a meal that Moses could cook on his own. It was his simple offering.
If she came at all.
At five minutes past six—five minutes spent with his heart in his shoes, thinking of all the reasons why she’d never want to come—a buggy rolled up, and Miri hopped down. She wasn’t dressed in her split skirt this time. She was wearing a proper dress, and she paused at the hitching post.
“Let me help you unhitch him,” Moses said, coming outside. “I mean for this to take a little while.”
“Oh . . .” Miri’s cheeks colored, and he joined her unbuckling the tack, and they sent the horse out to graze.
Then he led the way inside, leaving the screen door propped open with a brick so he could get some cooler air into the house.
“I, uh, cooked,” he said.
The kitchen didn’t smell quite as appetizing as he’d hoped it would. Sausage and onion would permeate everything for a day or two, he was sure. But he couldn’t wait a moment longer for what he had to say.
“Miri, I hate that they pushed you into signing that document,” he blurted out. “I wasn’t part of it. It feels wrong to me.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “This farm was supposed to be yours, anyway.”
“Nee, my dawdie meant it to be yours,” he countered. “But I think we can set it right.”
“Moses, any other way and the community will split,” she said earnestly. “If you try and change anything—”
“Just hear me out,” he said, looking down at her upturned face. She was shorter than she seemed when she was marching around bossing people about. But standing here in this kitchen, looking up at him with questions in her eyes, he could see how vulnerable she really was.
“I love you,” he whispered.
She blinked. “What?”
“I love you,” he repeated. “You probably never thought much of me when you were beating me in races in school, but I sure thought the world of you. You’re smart and fast and good with the cattle. You’re . . . wonderful.”
“Moses.” Tears rose in her eyes. “You really shouldn’t toy with a woman’s feelings. This isn’t a game to me. I’m grown. I have plans to make, and I’m not going to play games with a good friend.”
“If all you see in me is a friend, then . . .” Moses cast about inside of himself. Would he give up? Back off? “Then I want to change your mind. Please.”
She looked up at him, surprised, and he stepped closer, tugged her into his arms, and looked down at her a long moment to make sure she wouldn’t smack him before he lowered his lips gently over hers.
She melted against him, and he wished they could stay that way forever, her arms wrapped around his middle and her face tipped up so that her lips met his.
It was the kiss he’d been yearning for all this time, a kiss that seemed to seal over a place in his heart that would always belong to her.
When she pulled back, he released her and looked at her hopefully.
“Well?” he asked. “Am I just a pal?”
“Nee, you’re not,” she breathed.
“Do you love me too?” he asked.
“Of course I do, you fool!” she teased. “But what does that mean for us?”
She loved him! True, she’d also called him a fool, but she loved him! And he felt like his heart would burst from the joy of it.
“You’d never marry a man who was angling after this farm,” he said. “Well, that’s taken care of. The farm is mine—you signed it over yourself. So this isn’t about land. This is about me and you, and how I feel about you. I want you to marry me.”
Miri stared at him mutely.
“And . . .” Was she really not going to say anything? “I want us to belong to each other. I want to spend every day together.”
Miri shook her head and wiped a tear from her cheek. “And I would stay in the house and cook and clean and sew up your trousers?”
“What? Nee! I made this mediocre meal for you to prove a point,” he said. “I’m capable of cooking. Not well, but I don’t think your cooking is much better.”
“Such smooth talking,” she said, but a smile touched her lips.
“I don’t mean to be smooth,” he explained.
“I mean to be honest. You’re no woman for the house, Miri Schrock.
You never were, but I love you. And you’re smart and efficient on this land, and you know cattle better than anyone.
So I propose this: We don’t do things like everyone else.
We both work the herd, we both cook the food, we both clean the house, and .
. . when there are kinner, we both raise the kinner.
I can change a diaper, you know. At least I think I can.
We’d figure it out. But we do it together, and you won’t get stuck in this house with the cooking and cleaning.
We’ll be running the farm side by side. I know I’d be happier for having you here with me, and I think the farm will be better for it too. If you’d have me.”
“Are you really asking me to marry you?” she asked.
“I’m trying to,” he said. “It’s not coming out right.”
“It’s coming out just fine,” she said, and she blinked back those tears. “You’d be willing to build a different sort of life with me?”
“Miri, I love you. I’m willing to do just about anything to get you to come home to this farm. I have a feeling my dawdie was trying to set us up.”
“After talking to Aent Dina, I think your dawdie felt like he owed my grandmother for fetching him home,” she countered. “I think he was trying to pay her back for what she did for him.”
Was that it? Did it matter now? Moses didn’t really care at this point what his grandfather had been thinking, because he finally knew exactly what he needed for himself.
“All right, then whatever my dawdie was thinking, this is what I’m thinking: I want to marry you—soon. I want you here with me. And no one can say we got married for land.”
“They might suggest I did,” she said, but she was smiling now, and that smile was bright and beautiful and completely unveiled. She loved him too.
“Who cares?” he said softly. “Marry me anyway, Miri. Please. I’ll tell them all that I begged you to be mine.”
“Will you?”
“I promise. What do you say?”
“Yah,” she said, “I’ll marry you, Moses.”
He gathered her back up into his arms, but before he could kiss her again, she said, “I prayed for cattle.”
“Oh . . .” He eyed her uncertainly.
“I was afraid to pray for this,” she said. “But I love you, Moses. So much. With all my heart.”
He pulled her close again, and he knew that Gott had given him the greatest gift in Miri Schrock. She was the kind of woman who gave a heart pure and strong, and he’d have a loyal wife at his side for the rest of his life.
“Miri, I’m going to give you so many cattle,” he said, and her quiet laugh was silenced with another kiss.