Free A Promise for Miriam by Vannetta Chapman Page B

sugar on his oatmeal and reached for the smallest edge roll—one with hardly any frosting on it that Abigail had made especially for him
    “How could he eat both middles and…” Miriam paused to count. “Two edge rolls? That’s what I don’t understand—”
    “I was hungry,” Simon explained.
    “And to be fair, I didn’t bake as much as I used to. I’m trying to help your dat watch his sugar intake.” Abigail moved the sugar bowl to the other end of the table, out of temptation’s reach.
    Simon eyed the roll Miriam wanted, which now rested on the plate between them. His fingers drummed a beat on the table.
    “We could split it,” he offered.
    “Split it?” Miriam shook her head. “Terrible idea.”
    “But I’m still hungry, and that one was mine. I had it nearly in my mouth when you walked in the door.”
    Miriam could sense him caving. In truth, all of the sugar he’d already had was no doubt hitting his bloodstream about now, and the large amount of bread and yeast was settling in his stomach. He probably wasn’t even hungry anymore.
    It was only a matter of saving his pride.
    Then again, she’d watched him put away more than his fair share at Sunday gatherings.
    She needed to play this just right, or she would be eating an edge roll. Since she was a child, she had always loved the middle of anything baked—soft and moist and sweet.
    “I’ll make you a deal.” She turned her kaffi cup in her hands, staring down into the black liquid as if what she was about to offer were difficult for her. “I’ll brush your gelding this morning if you’ll give me that roll.”
    Simon sat back in his chair and ran his hand up and down the length of his suspenders. “Why would you do that? It’ll take at least an hour to care for Rocky. All for one roll?”
    Miriam shrugged. “I suppose I have a sweet tooth.”
    “Done! But no changing your mind.” He slid the plate across the table and stood. “I guess being a teacher doesn’t make you the smartest one in the room after all. One roll for an hour’s work.” He rubbed his stomach as he walked out of the room. They could hear him in the mudroom, putting on his outside gear and whistling.
    Miriam ate slowly, savoring every bite, aware that her parents were watching her.
    “Worth it?” Abigail asked.
    “Oh, yes.” She stood and carried her plate to the sink.
    “Are you going to tell Simon I’d already asked you last night if you’d care for his horse today?” Joshua asked.
    “Why would I tell him that? He’s happy. I’m full. Everyone got what they wanted.”
    “Indeed,” Joshua said, following his son back out into the cold.
    But as Miriam and Abigail began cleaning the kitchen and set to work preparing the stew they would have for dinner, she couldn’t help thinking again of Gabe and Grace and wondering if they were ready for the approaching storm.

Chapter 10
    B y the time daylight had completely pushed back the darkness Friday morning, Gabe had managed to move his horses, bull, and the few dairy cattle he owned to the side of the barn where the roof hadn’t caved in from the night’s snowfall.
    Things were crowded, and his arms ached from the work. He was certain the coming day only promised more of the same.
    If he could read a Wisconsin sky the same way he would have read one back in Indiana, more snow would begin to fall soon.
    The question was, what time would Grace be up today? She usually slept at least an hour later on Saturdays. He studied the sky standing on the side of the barn he’d moved all the animals away from, gazing up through the gaping hole where the barn’s roof had been.
    Why had he come here? Did he really think running away from prying eyes would make his life easier? Did he really think hard work would ease his pain?
    He’d heard about the Cashton Amish district. Some people had warned him folks here clung to old ways, and many families chose to leave rather than abide by the rules. Others claimed he would