Instead, with heavy hearts, she and Calvin had decided to leave their chances up to the Lord and tried to put their dreams of parenthood out of their minds. Or at least they pretended to do that.

  So far, Miriam wasn’t doing very well. She’d attempted to take up quilting, but she found it boring. Making jams and preserves and canning quarts of applesauce and tomatoes only served to remind her that she was just filling a pantry for two people.

  Calvin had tried to move on by throwing himself into work: laboring out in the fields until it was near dark or helping out some of their friends and family with their machinery. But that meant he was gone a lot. And as the months passed, it was becoming harder and harder to believe that Calvin wasn’t disappointed in her… and that maybe, one day, he’d fall out of love with her, too.

  So now the only time she spent at that kitchen window was when she was waiting for her husband to come home.

  Unfortunately, even that undertaking was beginning to feel futile. Calvin now seemed to arrive later and later for their noonday meal.

  Especially on Thursdays.

  Tired of looking for him, Miriam turned away. Paddy, their black and brown spaniel, lifted her head and gazed up at her with big brown eyes. Kneeling down to pet her, Miriam felt her heart melt. Three years ago, when she’d been in a particularly blue mood after far too many women at church had asked her about her childless state, Calvin had driven her in the buggy to a nearby farm.

  He’d joked and teased when she’d tried to guess where they were going, reminded her over and over again that patience was a virtue. Just when she was threatening to not make his favorite banana pudding for dessert, he’d pulled into the Barretts’ yard and helped her down.

  “Come on,” he’d said with a big smile.

  She’d held his hand as they’d walked into the barn and then gasped when Jack Barrett stood up and motioned them over to a nearby pen. Inside that pen were six eight-week-old springer spaniel pups, each one cuter than the next. They’d frolicked and yipped and greeted her with the kind of exuberance only puppies seemed to be able to have. Not caring one whit about the dirty straw, she’d knelt down in the middle of their pen and played with them all.

  She’d cooed and mooned over them and then had gotten tears in her eyes when Calvin told her to pick one out. Thinking that the little pup who’d been sitting in a corner by herself needed her as much as she’d needed it, Miriam had cradled her in her arms. When they’d gotten home, she’d promptly named her Paddy in honor of her favorite childhood toy bear.

  Ever since, Paddy had helped her through any number of blue days and melancholy moments. But for once, even the dog’s devotion wasn’t going to help her overcome her newest set of worries—a husband who didn’t seem all that eager to come home.

  “Miriam, where are ya?”

  Startled, she jumped to her feet to find Calvin peeking into the kitchen from the laundry room right by the back door. “I’m here. I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “No worries,” he said as he turned on the faucet and washed his hands. “I’m running a little late anyway.”

  He was twenty-five minutes late. Struggling to keep silent about that, Miriam attempted to adopt a nonchalant demeanor. “Where did you go this morning?”

  “Hmm?”

  When he turned off the faucet, picked up one of her dish towels, and rubbed it against his face, she was once again struck by how very handsome her husband was. Even in early May, his face and arms had begun to bronze, and his usually dark blond hair was beginning to lighten. His beard, like his arms and chest muscles, was filling out, too. Yes, at twenty-eight years of age, her Calvin was a mighty fine-looking man. Everyone had noticed and taken to teasing her about having such a handsome husband.

  Maybe too many people had noticed.

  She leaned against the doorway and tried to sound only slightly curious. “Where were you? Did you go to the Olsons’ to help with their generator?”

  He tossed down the towel. “At the Olsons’? Oh, no. Sarah Anne and her bookmobile were down the road. I went to get a book.”

  “I wish I would’ve known you were going. I would’ve gone with you.”

  “Sorry. I guess I should’ve told you.” He straightened. “Is lunch ready?”

  She remained where she was, essentially blocking his way. “Where is it?”

  “Where is what?”

  “The book you got. Where is it?”

  Calvin looked around, as if he was hoping a book was going to magically appear. “Um, I didn’t find anything I liked.”

  “You spent your morning at the bookmobile but didn’t find a thing?” She knew her voice was brittle, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. “I find that hard to believe.”

  Calvin’s usual easygoing demeanor tightened. “Miriam, what is the point of this? You’re acting like I’ve done something wrong.”

  “I’m not acting like that at all.” Which, of course, was a fib.

  “Nee?” His brown eyes darkened as he folded his arms over his chest. “If you have something to say, you should just tell me. I have no time for games, you know.”

  His comment stung, though she wasn’t exactly sure why. “Since you don’t have much time to spare, we should go eat. Lunch has been ready for some time, and it’s getting cold.”

  “Of course.” He strode to their table, pulled out a chair with enough force that two of the legs scraped the floor, and sat.

  Miriam took the chair across from him, pushing out of her mind memories of sitting to his left so she could be closer to him. That was back when he’d come home ten minutes early because he couldn’t wait another minute for a kiss.

  And sometimes just one kiss wouldn’t be enough. Remembering those days, those marvelous, middle-of-the-day stolen moments, she felt her cheeks heat.

  “Miriam?”

  “Hmm?” She turned to him.

  Everything in his expression signaled his impatience. “Are you ready to bow your head in prayer?”

  “Oh. Jah. Yes, of course.” She bent her head and gave thanks for their blessings before adding another prayer, asking for patience and strength.

  By the time she raised her head, Calvin was already eating.

  She’d made roast beef sandwiches on toast with gravy and potato salad. It was a hearty meal, a good meal for Calvin, who farmed all day and usually ate breakfast before the sun rose.

  She’d taken special care to put spicy mustard and a good amount of crunchy celery in the salad. Since it was already half gone, she assumed he was enjoying it very much.

  As the silence wore on, she cleared her throat. “So, how was Sarah Anne?”

  “Who?”

  “Sarah Anne,” she repeated, this time with a bit of a bite in her tone. “How was she today?”

  “Ah, fine, I think.”

  He thought? “Did she ever get the lift on the side of the bookmobile repaired for the wheelchair customers? Last time I saw her, she was complaining about how much the company was charging to even take a look at it. Is it working again?”

  “I couldn’t say. I didn’t ask her about the lift.” He shoveled another bite into his mouth.

  “You know, that does remind me. I didn’t know she was going to be near us today. How did you know?”

  “I didn’t. I just happened to see her when—” He stopped, obviously caught in his lie.

  “When…?” Miriam raised her eyebrows, impatiently waiting for him to explain himself.

  But all he did was set down his napkin. “I’ve gotta go check on the corn.”

  “Already?” He hadn’t even been at the table for fifteen minutes. His sandwich was only half gone, too.

  “The corn is what keeps us fed, Miriam. You know that.” He didn’t wait for a reply before he walked out the back door.

  Remaining frozen where she was, Miriam stared at his empty chair. Calvin had been anxious to leave, and she knew in her heart that it wasn’t because he wanted to spend more time among the cornstalks. No, he hadn’t wanted to talk to her.

  He hadn’t wanted to be with her.

  Tears filled her eyes as she forced herself to acknowledge something else as well—her husband had absolutely not been at the bookmobile. If he had, he would’ve shared news about Sarah Anne. He would have known about the lift because he was interested in things like that. And, at the very least, he would have picked up two or three books because he was like a child in a candy store whenever he was inside that bookmobile.

  Calvin had been someplace else, someplace he hadn’t wanted her to know about.

  Maybe it was time she stopped pretending and admitted that her worst fear could very well be happening. Her husband could have his sights on another woman. And who could blame him? There were likely lots of women who could give him what he wanted so desperately. A family. A son of his own.

  All she could give Calvin was her love.

  three

  • TIP #3 •

  Look for that someone special wherever you happen to be—even at the library.

  Calvin didn’t know how much longer he was going to be able to continue visiting Sarah Anne’s bookmobile on the sly. Lying to Miriam was not only a sin, but it also made him feel nauseous. For a moment, he had feared he was going to lose his lunch right there at the table. Something needed to be done.

  What was sad was that if he’d just gone ahead and told Miriam the truth, she would’ve likely responded better. At the very least, she wouldn’t have looked as disappointed in him as she had fifteen minutes ago. Miriam was smart, and she had an innate sense about things. She knew he had avoided her questions.

  Yes, Miriam absolutely knew he was being sneaky, and he could tell she wasn’t pleased about that in the slightest.

  Which made two of them.

  Carrying the large, sturdy canvas bag across his shoulders, like always, he walked down the rows of corn and inspected each stalk like a proud parent. They were coming along nicely—almost knee high, as they should be. When he found a stray weed or an ear that needed pruning, he tossed it in his sack. Just the way his father had taught him years ago.

  However, unlike in years past, the success of his corn crop brought him no feeling of satisfaction. All it brought was a nagging feeling from the Lord that he was still not doing His will. Which was, of course, figuring out what he was going to do about Miles.

  Unable to stop thinking about the boy, Calvin had been going out to the bookmobile a lot. No doubt too often. Today, after waiting around for almost an hour, he’d spied Miles tagging along listlessly behind five other kinner. He’d looked so completely alone that Calvin hadn’t even bothered hiding his dismay. Sarah Anne had noticed, and that’s when she’d whispered that Miles had been in the foster system for several years already and that she’d noticed he usually kept a bit apart from the other kids in the Schmidts’ care.

  She’d also mentioned that Miles had already been in a number of foster homes. And, because of his age, his chances of being adopted were becoming less and less promising as each year went by.

  The boy sure looked defeated. Why, he looked as somber and wary as an old mare. Calvin couldn’t even begin to compare the boy’s demeanor with his own self at age ten. He’d been happy, curious, and even a bit full of himself—all because he’d grown up secure. Miles’s situation had clutched his heart and held on tight.

  Today, the boy had grinned when he’d spotted Calvin. And, after getting a nod from Ruth, he’d walked right over to him.

  “Hiya,” Calvin had said.

  The boy’s smile had been so good to see, Calvin had felt like the ten-year-old had just given him a hug. But, knowing how skittish Miles could be, he’d tried to temper his reaction. “How are you today?”

  He’d shrugged. “Gut.”

  Calvin told him about how hard he’d been working in the field, while Miles relayed how he’d been glad that last weekend’s storm had cooled things off. In the grand scheme of things, none of it really mattered. But to Calvin it did. Honestly, every word the boy spoke meant the world to him.

  Later, while Sarah Anne was reading a story to the kinner, Ruth had walked to Calvin’s side.

  “I noticed that you and Miles are getting along real well,” she murmured.

  “We are. He’s a nice child.” Worried that Ruth might be wondering why he’d been giving Miles so much attention, Calvin added, “I hope you don’t mind me speaking to him.”

  “Not at all.” After peeking at the children, she said, “You’re making a difference in the boy’s life, Calvin. Today, Miles actually seemed happy to go on our long walk to the bookmobile. I know it’s because of you.”

  “Well, now… I don’t know about that.”

  “Nee, it’s true. Miles likes you a lot. He talks about you often.”

  Not sure where the conversation was going, Calvin cleared his throat. “Ruth, I hope you don’t mind. I don’t mean him no harm.”

  Her expression softened. “Calvin, James and me have been fostering children for years and years. We like giving children a solid home when they are in need. And, if I’ve learned anything, it’s that there’s never too much love or attention. If you like spending time with him, I hope you will.” She paused. “Why, you could even stop by our house to see Miles from time to time.”

  “That’s allowed?”

  “Jah. It is.” With a smile, she added, “It might be easier on you, as well. I mean, then you won’t be having to stand around the bookmobile wondering if we’re going to show up.”

  He smiled back. “Sarah Anne probably doesn’t know what to do with me.”

  Ruth looked like she was ready to say something more, but she seemed to change her mind. “Ah. I think I better go save Sarah Anne before she kicks us out, jah?” she joked as she walked back to the squirming group of kids.

  Now, remembering her offer to come by their house to visit Miles, Calvin couldn’t stop thinking about it.

  And, what would happen if Miriam discovered what he was actually thinking.

  They would argue something awful, no doubt. After all, they’d discussed their childless state many, many times. Each discussion had been full of hurt and tears, especially of late, ever since her last miscarriage and the fancy Englisch doctor’s warnings that she would likely never be able to carry a child to full term—if she happened to conceive in the first place.

  Calvin had never felt so forlorn. He wanted to help his wife, wanted to encourage her, but there didn’t seem to be anything he could say that would make a difference. It was his fault, no doubt. He’d been so overwhelmed by their losses; he’d sometimes forget to hide his feelings around Miriam. His disappointment would make her feel worse—sometimes even guilty. He knew she was harboring a lot of guilty feelings, no matter how many times he’d told her he didn’t blame her one bit.

  And sometimes, when Calvin couldn’t sleep in the middle of the night, he would find himself admitting that he would probably feel the same way if the shoe was on the other foot.

  Which was why he’d recently been bringing up the idea of adoption again.

  Unfortunately, his wife did not want to adopt a babe. They’d had this discussion many, many times before. Miriam still held out hope that they’d have a child of their own—one who was really theirs, a little boy or girl who looked like them—and she had made it clear that if they started thinking about adoption, she’d be giving up that dream.

  Calvin hadn’t exactly agreed, but he had also begun to learn that it was different for women. After all, they had sole responsibility for the babe during pregnancy. One could only assume that holding another woman’s child would never feel the same.

  But he was starting to wonder if the child they adopted needed to be a baby who was theirs from birth.

  After all, the Lord had put Miles in Calvin’s world for a reason. Maybe it was so Calvin and Miriam could learn that all children were precious and that children could come into their life through many paths.

  Unfortunately, Calvin had no idea how to share that thought with Miriam. He had no idea how to even begin.

  four

  • TIP #4 •

  One could meet a nice man in an exercise class, at the grocery store, or even out walking in a park. I’ve had the best luck at the library, however.

  They’d eaten a silent breakfast. Calvin had kept sneaking looks at her, obviously trying to figure out what he could say to make things better.

  She, on the other hand, had been trying not to throw up.

  The moment he went to the barn, Miriam had run upstairs and deposited her whole breakfast into the toilet. Barely in time.

  Then, just because it was starting to look like that kind of day, she’d burst into tears.

  An hour later, she was sitting in their bedroom, staring at the unmade bed and attempting to focus on the source of her weepiness instead of how much she would rather be sleeping. Which was, of course, yet another source of confusion. She didn’t laze about. She never had. Even as a child, she’d refused to take naps.

  So why was it sounding like the best idea in the world?

  But perhaps a nap—her mother’s favorite remedy for a blue mood—wasn’t such a silly idea, after all. Back in those difficult years before she’d become a teenager, Miriam had had a terrible time with her best girlfriends. Some had already been looking forward to graduating eighth grade, flirting with boys and practically planning their weddings in hushed, giddy tones on their way to and from school. And some had wanted to stay firmly entrenched in childhood, by their mothers’ sides. Miriam’s problem had been that she’d floated somewhere in between. Anxious not to lose a friend, she had tried to fit in with everyone. But that plan had backfired all too quickly. For a time, she’d lost both sets of friends. That loss—and her confusion about who she should be—had propelled her into a depression. She’d cried, felt lethargic, and took as many naps as she could.

 

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