Beyond Hope's Valley: A Big Sky Novel (36 page)

He stood and faced her. Whatever this girl had to say he wasn't going to take it sitting down.

"She's talked about you a little, not much, but things like this don't need words."

"Things like what?"

"Love." She remained in the doorway, expression somber.

A chuckle burst from Ben's lips. "I'm sorry . . . I think you have the wrong person. Marianna's engaged to someone else."

"
Ja
, that's true." The young woman removed her kapp and shook out her hair. She then bent down and pulled a pair of jeans and a t-shirt out of her satchel. "Can you hang on a minute, I need to go change out of these clothes."

Ben's mouth dropped, and he studied her face. "Did you say you're Marianna's
Amish
friend?"

"
Ja
, I was raised Amish, but I'm still in my
rumspringa
." She untied her apron and pulled it off. "I know it's silly but this is a busy tourist season at the cafe and I make better tips when I wear my Amish clothes. So can you hold on just a minute?"

He was in Marianna's house, which is the only place he was welcome around these parts. It's not like he had anywhere to go. "Uh, sure."

He walked outside and sat in one of the wicker chairs on the front porch. The sun was bright and a variety of flowers bloomed around the property, but even they couldn't lift his mood. He considered leaving before Marianna's friend came out. Maybe he should head down to the creek to toss rocks in the water. He didn't need Rebecca to tell him that Marianna loved him. He saw it the moment their eyes met. Her face had been full of joy, when she first saw him in Indiana. And if her parents hadn't been there he was sure she would have rushed into his arms.

But what did that matter? Marianna had made her choice. She was here, wasn't she? She was still engaged to Aaron. He didn't need to go to her and try to win her heart. He could do nothing as long as she ran from the truth—the truth of his love, the truth of God's freedom.

Three minutes later Rebecca exited the door. She pointed to the chair next to him. "Can I sit there? I promise I won't bite."

He rubbed his hands down the front of his jeans. "Uh, sure."

Rebecca picked a pansy from one of the window boxes and twirled it in her fingers. "It's silly, you know, you being here, loading up furniture like your muscles are your greatest asset. No offense or anything, but I heard that you were supposed to be in Los Angles right now, recording."

"Yes, well, I just thought I'd do a friend a favor."

"And . . ."

"And, what?"

"And to see Marianna."

"Yes . . ." He smiled. "It's true."

"Well, there's only one way to win her heart."

"And what is that?"

"You have to express how you feel."

He shook his head. "I tried to talk to her the other night."

"That's your problem, Ben. You tried using words. You need to express yourself the way you know best. Through song."

Ben cocked his eyebrow. "You want me to write a song that Marianna's Amish tradition doesn't even allow her to listen to?"

"She'll listen. You should have seen the joy on her face when she heard your Good Wife song. You're talented. I have a feeling this is just the beginning for you."

He looked away and shook his head. "Well, that beginning is going to end before it starts. I've decided I don't want that type of lifestyle—one on the road. I can't live that way."

"Who says you have to travel and sing? One of my customers a while back said that he was a songwriter. He wrote songs for others to record."

Ben glanced back over at this woman who seemed just as uncomfortable in her jeans and T-shirt as she did in her Amish clothes. She didn't seem to fit in either world. Yet as she spoke, something stirred inside. Something that told him to stop and listen to the words of this unlikely advisor.

He crossed his arms over his chest. The idea of still using his music without having to travel both excited him and scared him. What would Roy say? Would people be interested in his songs? Would he be able to write from Montana—to stay there and build a home there for . . .

"Still, not traveling doesn't solve everything. Even if I wrote the perfect song, Marianna still might choose him."

"Sure, she might, but don't you want to try? No dream comes true until you wake up and go to work. Besides, you have some time. It's not public knowledge, but Marianna and Aaron are talking about not getting married until November, which is typical for Amish weddings. That's a long time away, and if anything, the waiting makes things more favorable on your side."

"What do you mean by that?"

She shrugged. "I can't tell for sure, but there's something strange going on with Aaron. My mother used to tell me that what's whispered in the dark will be shouted from the rooftops—I think that's in the Bible somewhere. I just have a feeling that the more time Marianna spends with Aaron, the more she'll discover he's not the man for her."

"So how do you know I am?"

Rebecca tilted her head up to him. "I may be wayward according to my people's beliefs, but I can tell when someone truly loves God. There's something special about you, Ben, and Marianna will be foolish if she doesn't realize that. I'd never tell her to leave the Amish, but I can tell her to seek God's will. And I hope when she does, it will lead her into your arms."

"You can hope all you want but it doesn't matter. I'm leaving in the morning. Don't think I can do much songwriting, romancing, before then. Not that I agree with you. Not that I think I should. Marianna needs to take the next step. Only then will I know I have a glimmer of a chance."

If the wedding lunch had been simple, the wedding dinner was anything but. It was a time for additional friends and neighbors to show up.

Before everyone arrived, Marianna asked Aaron if they could slip away for a short walk. She hadn't seen much of him lately, and she missed the time they had together in Montana. Here Aaron worked. He cared for the house. He helped his father. He didn't have time to talk with her or to sit and dream.

She held his hand as they walked through a small meadow. A dozen cows chewed their cud near the creek, glancing up as they passed.

"Aaron, I was thinking, maybe we could spend some time together tomorrow. I've been reading my Bible and—"

His smile faded and his eyebrows lowered. "The English Bible?"

"Of course. You know I don't read German any better than you do. There's some passages I've been reading. Some stories I think you'd like, and . . ."

Aaron looped his thumbs through his suspenders. "There's no need. You know what I think of the English Bible."

She could tell he was trying to keep his voice calm, but anger tinged his words.

"
Ja
, but I thought if you read it, maybe you'd see—"

He whispered something under his breath she couldn't understand. "It's jest as my father said. You think a woman accepts you for who you are, but as soon as you take her into the marriage bed she's already crafting ways to change you." He cleared his throat. "Seems you're not even waitin' that long."

Heat rose to her cheeks, and she wished there was shade nearby. Marianna fanned her face. "Is that what you think, that I'm trying to change you? It's our faith, Aaron. The faith of our Anabaptist ancestors was built on God's Word."

"I thought I was
gut
enough for you." His words seemed more sad now than angry. "Thought all I provided was
gut
enough."

A sigh escaped her lips. "I don't mean to sound ungrateful. I wish I could help you understand."

"I know yer having second thoughts . . ." Aaron lowered his eyes. "You can't hide that from me. But why?"

As he asked the question, she pictured her nephew. Samuel had grown and changed. His hair was blonder than ever, and his eyes were the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. She only knew one other person with eyes like that. She looked up and focused on those eyes.

"I'm not sure how I look at you, Aaron. It's just that I have this feeling deep inside that something's not as it should be. I can't explain it." She let out a heavy sigh. "I'm tired of trying to figure it out. And the truth is I feel you've changed too."

"Maybe because you don't look at me like you used to, Mari, not with the same respect. It's as if you knew . . ." He turned and moved toward the back door.

She shot to her feet and followed him. "What, Aaron? Knew what?"

He glanced over his shoulder at her. "The truth, Mari. It's as if you knew the truth of Naomi's baby."

Was that relief she saw on his face as he uttered those words?

Marianna paused her steps and for a moment she thought she would tumble. Her knees grew weak, and the fear that had nestled deep inside her exploded to her mind and heart. Looking at Aaron's face . . . she knew.

"It makes sense." The whisper escaped her lips.

She glanced at Aaron again. "He looks just like you." Her stomach lurched and a quivering hand covered her mouth. She wanted to turn and run. She wanted to grab his shirt and ask him how he could do that—not only be intimate with Naomi, but also lie.

Levi.
Her brother had no idea, and she was glad. He considered Aaron a friend. It would be a double slap to his face.

Aaron let out a slow breath. "I don't know what to say."

"You can tell me the truth. I want to hear it out of your own mouth. Is that baby yours?"

"
Ja
."

Even though she expected the answer, it came as a fist to her gut.

"I'm sorry, Marianna. I lied to you." He punched his left fist into his right hand. "I was so stupid . . . so lonely." His eyes glittered with the beginning of tears. His cheeks blazed. A strand of sweaty blond hair clung to his forehead and the innocence of it made her think of the boy she once knew, but nothing about Aaron was innocent.

"I love you, Marianna," he uttered through strident breaths. "I'm so angry at myself for letting this happen. It wasn't anything I planned."

"But you told me . . . you told me it was only a kiss." She struggled to breathe. The air refused to fill her lungs.

"Didn't you jest hear me? I lied. I was afraid to tell you the truth. You're so . . . so pure."

A scoff escaped her throat.

"As soon as you got the letter from Levi, telling you about Naomi, I hoped the babe wasn't mine. Before that . . . well, I tried to forget. Tried to pretend it didn't happen." Aaron paused.

Then his words came forth like a flood, as if he was searching for a way to make it right. "I don't know what to tell you. Levi had abandoned her. You were gone. We found comfort in each other . . ." He stepped closer and put a hand around her shoulders, pulling her to him. Strength had escaped from her body and she fell into his embrace.

He held her and rocked. His voice choking out more words. "I didn't plan on it. Naomi didn't either. It just happened."

Rocking in his arms she stared into the blue sky, her gaze fixing on a distant cloud. She wished it would come and offer up rain—to cry for her the tears that refused to come.

"After the first time we knew that's not what we wanted. I was s . . . so afraid to tell you. So afraid of what you'd think of me."

"Wait, the
first
time . . . there was more than one time?"

He ran a finger under his collar. "Do we have to talk about this?"

"Aaron, in a few months' time I'm supposed to commit my life to you. And now—now you can't even tell me the truth? You can't even talk about something that's going to affect the rest of our lives?"

"It was more than one time, but not many. We were just lonely."

"And from that you created a child. You have a
son,
Aaron. A son that my bruder is raising as his own. I—I never thought it was you. Levi told me months ago he never slept with Naomi in the family way before they were married." Her voice softened with each word. "I just assumed it was some guy she met . . . anyone but you. You've always been so noble, so good, so kind. I thought you loved me."