Read Online A Promise for Miriam by Vannetta Chapman - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Vannetta Chapman
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to think of a way to help the other kids. They like you, and it would mean a lot to me if you would stand with them when they perform. I’m sure you can think of a way to participate.”
Miriam waited a few seconds, giving her a chance to say no. When she didn’t, Miriam added, “Okay? To both requests?”
Grace threw her arms around her teacher’s neck and then planted a kiss on her cheek. For a fleeting second, Miriam thought she heard an “umm-umm”—like the sound you make when you hug someone tight. Then the young girl was running to put on her coat, snuggling Stanley, in his box, safely inside.
Miriam and Esther were only a few minutes behind Eli’s buggy. They closed the school up tight before making their way through the rising snowdrifts—Miriam to her buggy, which the boys had hitched to her mare, and Esther to Joseph’s buggy, which was waiting.
He raised a hand to wave to Miriam, and then he leaned out the front of the open buggy. “Need me to follow you home?”
“No, thank you, Joseph. I’ll be fine.”
Nodding once, he turned to Esther, made sure the blanket was wrapped snuggly around her lap, and then giddy-upped to his gelding. The horse trotted off through the falling snow.
The scene was picture-perfect, but Miriam wasn’t fooled. The temperature was cold, and the snow was falling fast.
She would have liked to drop off another dinner at the Millers’, but at the rate the drifts were accumulating, Miriam knew she needed to drive straight to her parents’.
Something told her this storm was going to be worse than anything they had experienced in recent years. She climbed into her buggy and made sure the leather flap was closed beside her. It didn’t provide complete protection against the cold, but it helped. Wrapping her own blanket across her legs, she picked up the reins, murmured to Belle, and hurried toward home.
Gabe Miller would have to feed his own family.
No doubt he’d managed for the last several years, or however long it had been since Mrs. Miller had passed. For some reason that image bothered her more than the storm outside her buggy. She focused on pushing it away. The last thing she needed to do was involve herself personally in Gabe’s problems. Of course, she would fulfill her Christian duty—that was the right thing to do.
And her professional duty as Grace’s teacher. It was natural to care for her students.
Strictly Christian and professional. Not personal.
Maybe she could talk her dad into driving her over in the morning if the snow had stopped. Her mother always overcooked when there was a snowstorm. It would be neighborly to share some of the extra food with her newest pupil.
When Miriam woke Friday morning, the first thing she noticed was how quiet everything was. True, it was early. Try as she might on weekends, she couldn’t seem to sleep past her normal six a.m. Though the sun wouldn’t rise for another hour, when she went to her window to look out over the farm, there was enough light to see the miracle awaiting outside.
Enough for her to draw in a sharp breath and understand why she’d woken to that muted quiet.
An unmarred blanket of white stretched as far as the horizon and beyond—covering fields, trees, barns, and even Pebble Creek in the distance. It muffled the normal winter sounds of birds in the trees.
The morning wasn’t completely quiet, of course. Now that she stood with her nose pressed to the window, peering out at the storybook scene, she could see the redbirds hopping on the branches of the sugar maple tree outside her window. When they hopped, the snow would tumble from the branch, making a slight swish sound.
And then she heard something else. Something that had her grabbing her robe and making her way downstairs and outside to take care of her morning bathroom needs. It was the sound of the oven door closing, bringing with it the aroma of fresh cinnamon rolls.
Chapter 9
M iriam was sidetracked.
She’d headed to the
Miriam waited a few seconds, giving her a chance to say no. When she didn’t, Miriam added, “Okay? To both requests?”
Grace threw her arms around her teacher’s neck and then planted a kiss on her cheek. For a fleeting second, Miriam thought she heard an “umm-umm”—like the sound you make when you hug someone tight. Then the young girl was running to put on her coat, snuggling Stanley, in his box, safely inside.
Miriam and Esther were only a few minutes behind Eli’s buggy. They closed the school up tight before making their way through the rising snowdrifts—Miriam to her buggy, which the boys had hitched to her mare, and Esther to Joseph’s buggy, which was waiting.
He raised a hand to wave to Miriam, and then he leaned out the front of the open buggy. “Need me to follow you home?”
“No, thank you, Joseph. I’ll be fine.”
Nodding once, he turned to Esther, made sure the blanket was wrapped snuggly around her lap, and then giddy-upped to his gelding. The horse trotted off through the falling snow.
The scene was picture-perfect, but Miriam wasn’t fooled. The temperature was cold, and the snow was falling fast.
She would have liked to drop off another dinner at the Millers’, but at the rate the drifts were accumulating, Miriam knew she needed to drive straight to her parents’.
Something told her this storm was going to be worse than anything they had experienced in recent years. She climbed into her buggy and made sure the leather flap was closed beside her. It didn’t provide complete protection against the cold, but it helped. Wrapping her own blanket across her legs, she picked up the reins, murmured to Belle, and hurried toward home.
Gabe Miller would have to feed his own family.
No doubt he’d managed for the last several years, or however long it had been since Mrs. Miller had passed. For some reason that image bothered her more than the storm outside her buggy. She focused on pushing it away. The last thing she needed to do was involve herself personally in Gabe’s problems. Of course, she would fulfill her Christian duty—that was the right thing to do.
And her professional duty as Grace’s teacher. It was natural to care for her students.
Strictly Christian and professional. Not personal.
Maybe she could talk her dad into driving her over in the morning if the snow had stopped. Her mother always overcooked when there was a snowstorm. It would be neighborly to share some of the extra food with her newest pupil.
When Miriam woke Friday morning, the first thing she noticed was how quiet everything was. True, it was early. Try as she might on weekends, she couldn’t seem to sleep past her normal six a.m. Though the sun wouldn’t rise for another hour, when she went to her window to look out over the farm, there was enough light to see the miracle awaiting outside.
Enough for her to draw in a sharp breath and understand why she’d woken to that muted quiet.
An unmarred blanket of white stretched as far as the horizon and beyond—covering fields, trees, barns, and even Pebble Creek in the distance. It muffled the normal winter sounds of birds in the trees.
The morning wasn’t completely quiet, of course. Now that she stood with her nose pressed to the window, peering out at the storybook scene, she could see the redbirds hopping on the branches of the sugar maple tree outside her window. When they hopped, the snow would tumble from the branch, making a slight swish sound.
And then she heard something else. Something that had her grabbing her robe and making her way downstairs and outside to take care of her morning bathroom needs. It was the sound of the oven door closing, bringing with it the aroma of fresh cinnamon rolls.
Chapter 9
M iriam was sidetracked.
She’d headed to the
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