Marianna opened her eyes, stretched her arms, and expected to hear her younger brothers and sisters running through the house and playing. Instead, she heard the chiming of Aunt Ida's clock, stirring her to full wakefulness. Oh, yes. She wasn't in Montana.
She closed her eyes again, picturing Aaron's smile. Then she recalled Mem's letter. Montana . . . her friends and family . . . they all seemed so far away. Especially Ben . . .
How come it was that last thought that pierced her heart so?
She pushed all thoughts of Ben from her mind. That was a different time and a different place. She didn't need to think about that now—think about him. Instead, she needed to focus on what really mattered. She was back in Indiana for a reason. She was here to help Levi and Naomi prepare for their baby. She was here to think about her and Aaron's wedding and their future together. She wished they had talked about that more. Thought and talked about their future as they rode the train. Maybe they didn't need to. Maybe it was enough to accept each day as it came.
Marianna pushed the covers back and rose. She swung her feet over the edge of her bed and slid them into the slippers that she'd laid out the night before. At least there were some familiar things—the slippers she'd brought and her journal that sat on the dresser, waiting to be filled with today's adventures.
Before she'd moved to Montana, life in Indiana had a certain rhythm to it. Frozen ground warmed with spring. Broken ground opened for seed. Tended ground produced crops. And once the crops were in, there came a season of rest and partaking of the bounty.
Marianna stood at the window, pressing her fingertips to the cold glass. Outside, the ground lay at rest, but nothing inside her could claim the same. In the days to come, she'd sit by the fire. She'd quilt. She'd look through her grandmother's cookbook in search of something nice to make for Aaron, but she couldn't imagine not wondering what everyone was doing in Montana. Would anxiety stir even quiet days?
Enough of that.
She walked over to the dresser and looked in the mirror. Her hair had slipped out of her sleeping kerchief and a few strands fell around her face in soft waves. She brushed a long strand of hair behind her ear. What it would be like to wake up and look not only at her own reflection but also to look into Aaron's loving gaze? It felt gut to be desired. To know that she would soon be his. It made her smile to think she'd have her own home, cooking her own meals, creating her own menu, washing their clothes. She needed to start thinking about a garden too. Even if she and Aaron weren't married before planting time, maybe she could design a plot and Aaron could break up the ground and till it. If so, she'd be able to plant the seeds as a single gal and then cook up the harvest as a married woman.
She tried to picture that—pictured going out to her garden and picking the best produce and then bringing it inside for her husband's meal.
A soft humming outside the door interrupted her thoughts. Aunt Ida hummed one of the hymns they sang at church. But the way Aunt Ida hummed the song seemed more heartfelt than it did in Sunday service.
To be like Christ we love one another,
through everything, here on this earth.
We love one another, not just with words but in deeds. . .
If we have of this world's goods (no matter how much or how little)
and see that our brother has a need,
but do not share with him what we have freely received—
how ca40we say that we would be ready to give our lives for him if necessary?
The one who is not faithful in the smallest thing, and who still seeks his own good
which his heart desires—how can he be trusted with a charge over heavenly things?
Let us keep our eyes on love!
That last line resonated. She had to keep her eyes on love—the love she had for Aaron. She needed to be faithful in the smallest things to him, and this included her thoughts.
"It's a new day," she told herself as she rose and dressed. Today, she would see old friends. Today, she would think more of the community she was a part of rather than the one she left behind. Today, she'd think of her future with Aaron, and not let her mind take her back to her feelings for Ben.
No matter how her heart longed to go there.
Marianna walked toward the Garden Gate Cafe. It was a small, yellow building with a white railed porch. In the summer, small clusters of comfortable chairs were placed outside, offering customers a chance to sit and take in the warming sun. But today the chairs were put away, and no one was sitting and relaxing. The Christmas rush had hit the Englischers, and they moved from building to building like ants around their anthill.
As she entered the cafe, Rebecca sat at a round table with two of her coworkers decorating Christmas cupcakes. Marianna's eyes widened. Rebecca wore her Amish dress. Last time she'd seen Rebecca she'd been withdrawn, somber, ready to leave the community. Had her friend decided to remain Amish and get baptized into the church? Had she chosen the better way?
"Mari!" Rebecca stood and hurried over to her, arms wide. "You are really here. I saw yer aunt Ida at church last week and she told me you were on your way."
Marianna stepped into her friend's hug, then smiled as she stepped out of the warm embrace. "I see yer wearing Amish dress, I—"
Rebecca's lifted hands halted Marianna's words. "Wait, you don't understand." Her mouth neared Marianna's ear and she lowered her voice to a whisper. "I wear this because I get better tips. I haven't decided to go back. Doubt I will."
Marianna's heart deflated as if had been pricked by a dozen sewing needles, but she tried not to let her disappointment show. Emotion stirred within her and she took Rebecca's hand. "You don't feel called to the Amish, but that doesn't mean you're leaving God, does it?"
Rebecca's eyes widened. "I-I am not sure what you mean." She led Marianna to a back table, to avoid her curious coworkers overhearing.
They sat and faced each other. Marianna took a moment to enjoy the closeness of her friend before continuing.
"I've changed since being in Montana. I see things in different ways." The image of the still pond came into mind. "If you stay Amish it would make many people happy, but if you decide not to . . . well, I know many Englisch who love God."
Rebecca's mouth fell open, and she stared at Marianna as if she'd just confessed that she'd been living on the moon for the past six months.
"Were you friends with the Englisch?" Rebecca leaned in close. "You of all people . . . the one who always did everything right. Do yer mem and dat know?"
How could Marianna explain that Mem and Dat had Englisch friends too? She was sure she mentioned she'd worked at a store . . . did Rebecca think the store served the Amish only?
"Things were different there. I enjoyed getting to know my neighbors, Amish and Englisch."
Rebecca nodded and a slow smile curled on her lips.
Marianna placed a hand to her chest. "What? What are you smiling about?"
"Well, it may be selfish, but I think you'll give our neighbors something to talk about." Rebecca shrugged. "I'm afraid they may be bored of talking about me—with my Englisch boyfriend, my driver's license, and . . ."
Marianna didn't know what should shock her most. The driver's license she supposed. "I'm afraid to ask what else."
"I've signed up for college. I don't want to care for a home and children my whole life. I want to do something with myself. I want more."
Rebecca's eyes brightened as she talked about her plan to go to nursing school. Marianna never seen so much excited chatter spout from Rebecca's mouth, yet even as her friend talked an uneasiness came over Marianna. She had the strangest feeling that eyes were on them, or more accurately were on her.
She turned to the front bakery counter where a man was buying bread. The man glanced to the clerk as he paid for the bread and then turned and focused his eyes on her.
It's him. The driver . . . Mark.
Marianna tried to focus on what Rebecca was saying, but she could see the man's intent gaze from the corner of her eyes. A shiver traveled up her spine. Should she say something to Rebecca? No, to say something would mean she'd have to explain who this man was.
Thankfully he paid for his items and left.
Rebecca's eyebrows narrowed. It was clear from her gaze that Marianna hadn't fooled her. Rebecca could tell Marianna was no longer paying attention and she let her story about her first math test trail off.
Rebecca straightened her shoulders. "Listen, can we get together sometime next week?" Her voice hinted of disappointment. "I've already taken my break and this cupcake order has to go out tonight."
"
Ja
, of course. How silly of me to keep you from your work."
Marianna bid Rebecca a farewell and headed back down the road to the grocery. She folded her arms across her chest and tucked her hands under her armpits to warm them. Her thoughts were on Rebecca driving an automobile as she turned onto the sidewalk outside of the cafe. Just then, a man stepped out of the shadows, moving toward her.
A squeal erupted from Marianna's lips and she jumped toward the street.
"Whoa now!" Mark reached out a hand, snagging her arm.
Her eyes widened, and she tugged against him. "What . . . what are you doing. Let me go!"
"I mean you no harm, Marianna." With his free hand he pointed to the street. "There's just a car coming, and I didn't want you to get hurt."
The car drove by slowly, but the driver's eyes were fixed ahead.
Should I call to him? Call for help?
She opened her mouth but the words didn't come. Instead she pulled against the man's grasp, attempting to free her arm.
"I won't jump in front of a car, sir, you can let me go."
The Englisch man released her, and she pulled back, crossing her arms over her chest. Glancing around she noticed the street was filled with people doing their last-minute Christmas shopping. Surely he wouldn't try to harm her with so many people around.
"I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to tell you that if you ever need a ride . . ." He pulled a business card out of his coat pocket and handed it to her. The warmth of his breath fogged up the air.
"Thank you, but I don't think that'll be needed." She raised her hands, shielding off his extended hand.
"There's no charge. You know, as a favor to your mother."
"Yes, sir, I understand, but I'm staying with my aunt, and I have transportation, and soon I'll be married. Aaron watches out for me." She hoped he'd get the hint, despite her quivering voice.
The lines on the man's face softened.
"I'm sorry." He put the business card back into his pocket. "Forgive me. I didn't mean to scare you. It's just the shock, that's all . . . looking at you takes me back twenty-five years. Are you thinking I want to hurt you? Never. I just . . . well, I want to be here to help you as a way to honor your mother. She's a good woman, you know."
"
Ja
, she's
gut
. Both she and
my father
are."
Marianna said a silent prayer for wisdom, and before it had played through her mind she already knew the words she needed to speak.
"You seem like a nice enough man, but the best thing you could do for my mother—for me—is to leave us alone. We have a family, our own family . . . and even though Mem has favorable memories—"
He ran a hand through his graying hair. "Does Ruth still think of me?"
A cold wind came up, biting at Marianna's cheeks. She considered lying, but she couldn't bring herself to being dishonest. Instead, she cocked up her chin and stared into his eyes.
"It really doesn't matter what place you had in Mem's life. She has a good family now. She's committed her life to another. I suggest you leave her alone. And me as well."
The man's eyes widened and then he lowered his head, looking like her dog Trapper after he'd just been scolded.