Beyond Hope's Valley: A Big Sky Novel (16 page)

She'd arrived at Aaron's parents' house early on Christmas morning just as Aaron had requested. As she approached the front door of the Zook house the door opened and Aaron emerged.

He shut the door behind him, keeping his hand on the doorknob. His eyes watched her as if transfixed. Heat pulsated through her limbs as she looked into his eyes. So bright. So blue. So filled with affection, love.

She touched her kapp and paused before him. What was it about Aaron that made her feel like a schoolgirl with a crush? He raised an eyebrow but didn't move. Her gaze moved from his eyes to his lips, and she wondered if he waited for a kiss. From his soft smile she knew he did. She also guessed that at least a dozen eyes watched from the window. She didn't need to turn to know his siblings watched their interaction—most likely his mem too. She took a step back and held his gift tighter to her chest.

"What are you doing? It's cold and you have no coat," she teased.

"Is it? As soon as I saw you I didn't realize." He winked. "For some reason my whole body seems warm now. Seeing you warmed me from head to toe as if I'd swallowed the sun."

"Really now." Her cheeks warmed. "You aren't gonna keep me out here—on the porch—all day, are you?"

He took her hand and led her off the porch, leaning heavy on the railing as they descended. "No, but I won't let you inside. Not yet. I wish for you to come to the cabin first. "I'd want a few minutes alone with you while I still have the chance. Once everyone arrives you can be certain we won't have a moment together."

They walked side by side to the cabin. As they strode up to it, she imagined decorating it next year with simple candles and maybe greenery in the window—not too much to be prideful, but enough to beautify their home in a simple, lovely way.

"Can I give you your present first?" Aaron led her through the front door, shutting it behind him.

"
Ja
, if you insist." She smiled as she looked around. The woodstove was lit and a plate of his mother's Christmas cookies sat on the counter.

"Mem accused my younger siblings for sneaking those." He chuckled. "No one guessed that I was the thief."

She pulled a sugar cookie from the top.

Aaron smiled and held up a hand. "Wait here." He strode to the second room and soon emerged with a wooden crate, setting it down before her.

"This is for me? A whole crate? What could be inside?" Marianna sunk to her knees and opened the top. Lifting the lid her eyes widened.

Inside were books—hardback, old, dusty—exactly the type she liked to read.

"Aaron . . . there are so many!" She picked up a copy with a burgundy copy and turned it over in her hand. "
My Antonia.
It looks good." She continued looking through them. Some were titles she knew, others she'd never seen before.

"Can you imagine?" She looked around the room. "Us sitting here, enjoying the fire and reading."

"That's what I was thinking." He walked into the room and carried out a small bookcase, placing it by the woodstove. "I want this to feel like your home, Mari. I want you to enjoy our life."

Marianna smiled and then pulled the decorated package from the satchel she'd been carrying. Her gift seemed too simple compared to his thoughtfulness. Then again, the words in this one book were even greater than all those he'd offered her.

Aaron opened the package. He set the wrapping on top of the bookshelf and then his blond eyebrows folded into a scowl. "It's . . ."

"A Bible."

"I know." He glanced up at her. A hint of anger in his eyes caused her breath to catch in her throat. He tucked it under his arm. "I have a Bible already."

"Yes, but yours is in German and . . . well, you've told me before that you don't read it often."

"
Ja
, well, if I were to read any Bible it wouldn't be this one. It's English, Marianna." He lifted it into the air. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

A creak sounded, followed by a breeze of cool air. Marianna turned with a start, and Aaron tucked the Bible back under his arm, but not before Mr. Zook spotted it.

"Sorry to interrupt. I shoulda knocked." He stroked his beard as he entered, closing the door behind him. "You mother jest asked that I come for ya. Everyone arrived early and the children are eager to open their gifts." He spoke to Aaron, but his eyes stayed on Marianna. She saw no light in his eyes. No smile on his lips.

"I see that some presents have already been opened."

Marianna nodded and swallowed hard. Would Mr. Zook confront her, or would he wait to talk to Aaron after she left? He turned and exited the way he'd come. She lifted trembling fingers to her lips, uncertain of what to say. What to do. What had she been thinking? This is not the type of entrance she wanted to make into a family. What did Mr. Zook think of her now? What type of good, Amish girl would give such a gift? They had their rules. They had their Bible . . . she could imagine Mr. Zook's thoughts even as he stalked back toward the house.

"Well, you heard him, we best get back." Aaron tossed the Bible on the top of the stack of books.

Marianna followed, her eyes on her feet, ignoring the way Aaron's shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry if I've disappointed you. I thought—"

"You thought—!" Aaron spun and pointed a finger toward her chest. She glanced up to his eyes. His angry eyes.

"You thought you can change me? That you could persuade me to follow the Englisch ways?"

"It's not the Englisch ways, it's God's way." Her voice was no more than a squeak. "God tells us—"

"God tells us to obey our elders. That's what He tells us. And here you are thinking you know better?" He removed his hat and ran a hand through his hair.

Marianna kept her gaze fixed on his, not knowing how to explain. If he would read God's Word for himself he'd understand . . .

The tears came without her expecting them. She paused and covered her face with her hands. Her lip quivered despite her best efforts to keep it still. This was supposed to be a special day—their first Christmas together and here she'd gone and ruined everything.

"Oh, Mari." Aaron rushed back to her. His arms wrapped around her, holding her tight. "I am so sorry. I didna mean . . ." His large hand stroked up and down her back. "I know you heard about new things concerning God . . . and I don't want to say they're all wrong, but can you give me time? I want to be a good husband to you, and someday I'd like to talk more about this. But not right now. I'm still trying to figure it all out."

She nodded but she didn't speak. More tears came, but not from Aaron's outburst. Rather because of her own foolishness. She should be more patient. She should be more understanding. Dat did not push anything on her. Ben or Annie or Sarah didn't try to make her change all her beliefs at once.

"I'm sorry." Her voice emerged as a simple whisper. "I . . . I don't know what I was thinking. Today is a special day. Your whole family is waiting."

Aaron used a finger to lift the tip of her chin. She took a deep, shuddering breath and dared to look into his gaze. Surprise struck her heart when instead of anger or frustration she was met with his smile. "I'm sorry, too, I didn't mean to raise my voice. I appreciate the gift." He kissed the top of her nose. "I appreciate it because it came from you, understand?"

Marianna nodded, and then Aaron's lips met hers. She grasped the fabric of his shirt and didn't want to let go. She clung to him, attempting to draw from his strength. She clung to him, reminding herself she was loved—deeply loved.

It wasn't until their lips parted that she realized that she needed this—someone who would help her remember that being married wasn't always about agreeing.

It was about coming together as two people and finding middle ground as one.

No fewer than seventy people gathered in the Zooks' living room and dining room area. Lucky for them, church service was going to be at their house Sunday next, and Mrs. Zook had the foresight to ask for the bench wagon to be brought early. The benches had been set up around the edges of the room and a pile of brown paper-wrapped gifts sat in the middle of them all. There was no tree, no blinking lights, and no Santa decorations as seen in Shipshewana. Instead the prettiest decorations were the bright eyes of the children—Aaron's siblings and cousins—eager to open their gifts.

But before they could open presents, Marianna knew Mr. Zook would read the Christmas story. He opened up the large Bible, written in High German, and read from the Book of Luke. Growing up in church, Marianna understood most of the words, but as she looked at the faces of the children she notice their eyes glazing over. More than anything she wished she could hurry back to Aaron's cabin for the English Bible and ask Mr. Zook to read from that instead. It was not tradition—that was for certain—but at least the children would understand the story and revel in the joy of their Savior's birth.

After the story was read, the children of Mrs. Zook's sister rose and sang a familiar Amish hymn. Marianna smiled at their bright-cheeked faces and was inspired by their voices that surely were as beautiful as the angels' highly heavenly songs around God's throne. She couldn't help but consider how many others in the community would love to hear such singing—of course that would never be. To perform in such a way would be prideful. It didn't matter that God imparted their talent, to display it wasn't the Amish way.

Ben's face filled her mind. Oh how his music had moved her. She said a silent prayer, thanking God for not only giving them life and families, but special gifts like these children singing that pointed to a Creator who didn't just create what was necessary, but what was extraordinary too.

When the song finished, Aaron handed out the presents, calling each child by name and playfully teasing them before relinquishing the brown packages. As the children opened their gifts of handmade dolls, wooden tops, books, and colored pencils, Marianna couldn't help consider what a good a father Aaron would be some day. Again she told herself to look at the goodness of Aaron and not focus on his weaknesses. No one was perfect, after all.

Marianna glanced around.
This will soon be my family.
The thought had barely finished its journey through her mind when she noticed Mr. Zook's eyes studying her. Her back straightened, and she pretended not to notice both his stare and the displeasure that was clear on his face.

Suddenly, she knew she had to set to work doing something; otherwise, she'd burst at the seams with anxiety. Standing, she hurried to the kitchen where some of the women busily prepared Christmas lunch. The wonderful aroma of pot roast, potatoes, rolls, and creamed corn made her stomach growl.

Without waiting to be asked, she started folding a pile of napkins into a bell design. It was something simple her mother did every Christmas, and Marianna noticed the women's curious eyes on her as she worked.

"You wouldn't believe what happened at schul just last week," Aaron's twelve-year-old sister, Glenda, said as she whipped the potatoes. "Our teacher had to ask Eleanor three times to pay attention to the math lesson. Her mind was on another place . . . or on someone else." She sniffed as she tattled on her best friend. "You should have seen her stare at Barney Yoder. I was sorely embarrassed for her."

"I believe I've heard their mothers talk about how gut it would be to have them marry someday. I'm sure they've heard plenty about it too," Mrs. Zook added.