Amish Romance BOOK BUNDLE: Marian's Story: Amish Romance Boxed Set (Hollybrook Amish Romance)

by Brenda Maxfield

  “You have to log out,” Amy reminded her. She put her slender hand on Marian’s arm. “Are you upset?”

  Marian shook her head. “Nee. It’s just time for me to go home.”

  Two

  When Marian pushed through the smooth white front door of her house, Mamm was fuming.

  “Where have you been?” she snapped.

  “Mamm, I told you. I’m spending time at the library.” Her mind flashed to Roger’s friendly smile, but she quickly erased the image.

  “And what am I to do?” Mamm asked, fingering the edge of her apron.

  “What do you mean?”

  “With all the chores around here and a baby! I’m not one of those machines the Englischers have to do all the work.”

  Marian stared at her mother. There was an odd glint in her hazel eyes and an agitation to her manner. Izzie began wailing upstairs.

  “Mamm! The baby. Is she still in her crib?”

  Mamm flinched. “Of course she’s in her crib. How else am I supposed to get anything done?”

  Marian hurried up the steps to the baby’s room. She picked up Izzie and felt the wetness through her clothes.

  “Ach, Izzie! You’re drenched. Let’s get you changed.”

  Izzie gasped and hiccoughed as Marian changed her diaper and gown.

  “You hungry, too?” Marian asked. “Come on downstairs with me, little one. I’ll mash up some banana for you.”

  Marian walked into the kitchen and went straight for the bowl of fruit.

  Mamm looked up from the sink. “What are you doing?”

  “Isabel is hungry. I’m getting her some banana.” Irritation surged through Marian. What was the matter with Mamm? She’d never neglected the boppli before. A memory rushed through Marian’s mind from a couple months past. She’d come home from a trip to the Feed & Supply and found Izzie lying on a soiled blanket in the middle of the front room, crying. Mamm had been outside with the chickens, and when Marian asked her about it, she’d been contrite and said she’d lost track of time. It had disturbed Marian, but since it hadn’t occurred again, she’d temporarily forgotten about it.

  But now? Surely with such swollen eyes, Izzie had been sobbing for some time before Marian had gotten home.

  “Mamm, are you all right?” Marian asked, giving her sister a spoonful of mashed banana.

  Izzie swallowed the fruit and smacked her lips, dribbling some down her chin and reaching out for more.

  “Look how hungry she is,” Mamm said, ignoring Marian’s question. She moved close and picked up Izzie’s hand to give it a little shake. “Why didn’t you tell Mama you wanted to eat?”

  “She was crying her head off,” Marian said, indignant. “You didn’t go to her!”

  Mamm’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t you act disrespectful with me, daughter.” She took Izzie from Marian’s arms and cuddled her. “You’re all right now. Mama’s here.”

  She took the spoon from Marian, scooped up another mouthful of banana, and gave it to Isabel.

  Marian watched her dumbfounded. She was acting as if the whole thing had been out of her control.

  “Is Dat in the fields?” Marian asked.

  Mamm gave Izzie a kiss on her nose. “How should I know?” she answered without taking her eyes from the baby.

  Marian went out through the washroom. She hurried to the edge of the field and shaded her eyes, scanning the land. She spotted Dat amidst the waist-high corn in the far left field and took off through the stalks of young corn to meet him.

  “Dat!”

  Zebadiah Yoder paused and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his gloved hand. He gazed at his daughter. “Marian, what are you doing out here?”

  “I need to talk with you.”

  “It couldn’t have waited till I came in for dinner?”

  “Nee. It can’t wait. What’s wrong with Mamm?” she blurted.

  Dat’s eyelids flickered and a muscle close to his jaw twitched. “Your meaning?”

  “She’s ignoring Izzie and complaining about too much work.”

  “Your mama does have more work now that you’re in your running around time.” He bent down and yanked up a large weed, slapped it on his thigh, and let it drop on the dirt between the rows.

  “Not so much more work,” Marian said, her words more hesitant now.

  “I suggest you stop criticizing your mama and give her more help.” Dat didn’t look her in the eye when he continued. “You’re spending a lot of time with that Englisch friend of yours.”

  Marian sighed. “Isn’t that the point? Don’t I have more freedom these days? I’m not baptized yet.”

  “That I know.” Dat turned from her and walked between the narrow rows. “Might be time to consider whether you’re going to take instruction come fall.”

  “But Dat—”

  Dat held up the back of his hand to her and kept moving, and Marian knew the conversation was over.

  She made her way back through the stalks, hearing their rhythmic swish against her dress. How did the conversation twist around to her rumspringa when she had only wanted to express her concern about Mamm? And Marian shouldn’t be made to feel guilty about her activities. This was her time for more freedom, and everyone in the district understood that and accommodated their own older teens when the time came.

  She tried to brush aside her annoyance and was nearly to the house when she spotted someone standing on the road near their large elm tree out front. She looked more closely and was surprised to recognize Thomas Groft. He was clearly loitering, as if waiting for someone or something. She ran across the grass and approached him.

  “Thomas?”

  He looked down, kicked the dirt on the side of the road, and then gave her a shy grin. “Hey, Marian.”

  Marian glanced around. “You waiting for someone?”

  His face reddened. “Truth be told, I was waiting for you.”

  “Me?”

  He coughed and bent to pick up a stick. “Wondering about giving you a ride home from the next youth singing.” He gave her a smile then and the blue of his eyes was so warm and inviting, she laughed.

  “You don’t give up easy, do you?”

  “You said you had plans last time I asked. Wanted to make sure I was your plan next time.” He tossed the stick to the other side of the road then looked directly at her.

  She returned his gaze, her mind a whirl. Thomas also hadn’t joined church yet, but his loyal nature almost guaranteed that come fall, he would. Marian herself was almost certain she would be baptized, too, although she was reluctant to put it into words yet. Somehow, her father’s pressure made her resist a declaration—which she supposed was immature of her, but there it was.

  Thomas coughed and Marian realized she was keeping him waiting too long. His expression was compelling, and she realized she wanted to go with him.

  “I would like that,” she agreed warmly.

  Thomas’s shoulders relaxed, and he nodded. “Wonderful gut. I’m counting on it, then.”

  He tipped his hat in farewell and took off down the road, taking long strides and whistling. She smiled after him, her heart feeling light at the prospect. Thomas Groft was kind and a good catch, as her friend Lizzie Bontrager would say.

  She wondered what Amy Owens would think of him. She smiled to herself, already visualizing how enjoyable it would be to ride home with Thomas—to sit beside him in his carriage and talk together in the cool evening air.

  She heard Isabel’s cry all the way from the road. Her mind jolted back to her mamm and the baby. She turned on her heel and took off running toward the house. She burst through the front door, expecting the worst, but instead she saw her mother rocking Isabel against her chest, cooing into the baby’s ear.

  “What happened?” Marian cried.

  “Ach, a pan lid dropped to the floor. Made such a racket, it scared the boppli half to death.”

  Marian put a hand to her chest, and her breathing returned to normal. “I thoug
ht maybe she was hurt or something.”

  Mamm scowled. “Isabel is perfectly fine. I don’t understand your unnatural concern.”

  Marian blanched at the scolding and retreated upstairs to her room. Perhaps she was exaggerating the situation. Right then, Mamm had seemed perfectly fine. Maybe the incident earlier was nothing.

  Marian closed her eyes and prayed that God would watch over them all.

  ****

  The next morning, Mamm bustled around the kitchen like usual. Izzie sat in her high chair eating a handful of dry cereal off the tray. Marian watched them both for a moment before retrieving the iron skillet and putting it on the cook stove. She poured a bit of grease drippings into it.

  “I’ll get the eggs frying,” she said.

  “Thank you, Marian.” Mamm filled two cups of coffee and carried them toward the dining area. “Dat got an especially early start this day, but he should be coming in to eat right soon.”

  “We’ll be ready,” Marian said. She felt her muscles loosen and relax as she continued to observe her mamm. She nearly laughed at herself as she broke the eggs into the sizzling grease. What had she been thinking the day before? It now faded into nothing as she noted Mamm’s completely normal behavior.

  “I’m going to the library again today,” she said, watching her mother for a reaction.

  “All right, daughter. Could you stop at the Feed & Supply on the way home? I have some items that need purchasing.”

  “Jah, of course, Mamm. Just give me the list.” Marian’s eyes sparkled as she thought about working on her blog again. She was planning to post a poem about planting time. She loved poetry, although it was hardly encouraged during her eight years of school. Nevertheless, she’d worked on various poems over the years, stashing the scraps of paper inside her dresser drawer. But the poem she planned to post that day was new. It was written earlier, just before dawn when it seemed the world held its breath. Words swirling through her mind had awakened her, and she had lit the candle next to her bed to get them down before they disappeared. She’d learned long ago that words not captured had a way of retreating back into the unknown, forgotten forever.

  Within minutes, Dat came tromping in and breakfast was served. Before he headed back to the barn, he stood and looked at Marian.

  “Your plans today?” he asked. “Besides being a help to your mamm?” His look was pointed.

  “I’m going to the Feed & Supply for her. Can I use the pony cart?” Marian said.

  “And she’s going to the library,” Mamm added, before Marian had a chance to offer the information herself.

  Dat hooked his thumbs under his suspenders and observed Marian with a doubtful gaze. “How long?”

  “You mean how long will I be at the library?” Marian’s previous excitement soured in the face of Dat’s obvious displeasure.

  “That’s what I’m sayin’.”

  “A couple hours or so. Not long, Dat.”

  He said no more, but before leaving the room, he rubbed his hands together and pressed his lips into a tight line.

  Mamm picked up the serving dishes. “You’re not seeing that Englisch girl again, are you?”

  “Hadn’t planned to,” Marian said, unsure whether Amy would be at the library that day or not. “And her name is Amy. I’ve told you.”

  Mamm kissed Izzie on the head as she passed by on her way to the kitchen. “We’ve a work frolic this Saturday. Don’t forget.”

  Marian followed her mother into the kitchen. “The quilting, you mean?”

  “Jah, the quilting. And the men are working on a shed. I expect you to come.”

  “Can’t you excuse me this once? I don’t think I should have—”

  Mamm slammed a large metal spoon onto the counter and Marian jumped. “You’re coming!” Mamm snapped.

  Marian clamped her mouth shut and stared at her mother. Why such an emotional reaction? Just because she didn’t want to go to the frolic? With a stifled sigh, Marian finished cleaning up the dishes, careful not to do anything further to upset her mother.

  Mamm stood next to the window watching her, a vacant, tired look on her face.

  ****

  The barn was stuffy as Marian led Frisky outside to hitch her to the pony cart. Frisky’s tail swished and swatted at the flies hovering around her. Marian flailed her arms a few times, too, trying to chase the pesky insects away. She had mixed feelings about leaving the house that morning, but after the clean-up, Mamm had handed her the list of items she was to pick up on her way home, so she decided it was fine to go after all.

  “I shouldn’t be gone long,” Marian had assured her.

  When Mamm hadn’t responded, Marian had taken the list, given Izzie a snuggle, and gone out to the barn.

  Frisky allowed herself to be hitched without a fuss, and Marian was on her way quickly. The steady plod of Frisky’s hooves and the lazy heat swirling through the air set Marian to pondering. Was there truly something going on with Mamm or was she merely tired and out-of-sorts? Marian had known other crotchety women who still managed to care for their families and homes. Maybe she was focusing on it these days because she was nearly an adult herself and was simply more aware.

  But she did need to be more careful. She needed to watch what she said and did with extra diligence. She could do that. And she could step up the help she gave her mother around the house, too.

  A horn blasted and Marian flinched, holding the reins steady. The car raced around her, setting her skirt billowing against her legs.

  “Steady, girl,” she said to Frisky. “Steady.”

  Englischers always seemed to be in such a rush. As she neared town, she sat up straighter, even more careful to avoid dangerous situations with the cars sharing the road. She was fully aware that many Englischers resented driving alongside Amish buggies and carts—or even worse, driving behind them. On occasion, her friends had been pelted with fruit and rocks as they traveled on the public roads. Marian herself had never seen it happen or been the target, but she was cognizant of the danger every time she drove.

  She pulled into the library lot and secured Frisky. Her excitement mounting, she hurried inside to the computer area, planning on staying a very short time. Carefully, she logged on and signed in, just as Amy had taught her. When her blog popped up on the screen, she noted that she’d received two comments. She leaned close to read them. They were both by someone named LiteratureBuff19.

  Loved learning some about your Amish life. Am curious: Do you ever wish you weren’t Amish?

  Marian’s eyes widened. Not Amish? She never allowed her mind to go there. Never. She was Amish, and she would probably officially join the church come fall. Not Amish? Unthinkable.

  She read the next comment.

  Liked meeting you. Don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this, but you’re pretty. Truly.

  Marian’s hands dropped to her lap. LiteratureBuff19? It couldn’t be Amy, because Amy would have identified herself right away. Besides, she wouldn’t have written such comments. Roger! Of course, it was that Roger she’d met. After all, he’d told her he was going to “visit” her.

  But telling her she was pretty?

  That was inappropriate—pure and simple. She shouldn’t even respond. Or maybe she should respond and tell him not to say such things. She placed her two first fingers over the keyboard, but a flicker of hesitation coursed through her. She reread the last comment two more times, and a pleasant warmth filled her stomach. Pretty? Was she? Truth be told, she’d never given it much thought. With only a small hand mirror at home, she’d not spent much time assessing her appearance. Besides, it was vanity to do so.

  But she couldn’t deny the small thrill Roger’s words gave her.

  She bit her lower lip. What would Dat think—her sitting there all gooey because an Englischer had complimented her? It wasn’t to be abided.

  Perhaps the best option was to ignore the comment.

  She clicked on the tab that said “New Post” and took out
the scrap of paper she’d tucked into the waistband of her apron before leaving home. She smoothed out its wrinkles and began pecking out the words of her poem. It took much longer than was reasonable to get it looking good on the page, but she finally succeeded. She hit “Publish” and watched it load onto her blog.

  Marian smiled and then looked around self-consciously, grateful the library was fairly vacant. She logged off and patted the keyboard with the tips of her fingers.

  “See you soon,” she whispered. Her cheeks grew warm at the thought of speaking to a computer like it was a person. But in a way, it was like a person with a mind and everything. Never in her wildest imaginings could she have dreamed up such a thing!

  Since she was already at the library, Marian decided to take a few more minutes to check out some fiction books. She was careful in her selection, knowing that both Mamm and Dat would look them over. Dat wasn’t big on any false stories, but Mamm had always been more willing, as long as she could veto what she considered inappropriate.

  Satisfied they would approve her choices, Marian checked out two books. She held them against her waist as she pushed the heavy glass door open and went outside into the bright sunlight.

  “Marian!”

  Marian looked up into Roger’s green eyes. She was so surprised, she nearly dropped both her books.

  “I knew you’d be here,” Roger said, taking her books from her. “I’ll walk you to your wagon.”

  At her stupefied expression, he continued, “That is your wagon over there, right?”

  She nodded.

  “I followed your blog.”

  Her brow creased. “Followed my blog?”

  He laughed and set her books on the front bench of the cart. “It means every time you post, I get an email. So when I got an email a while ago, I knew you had to be at the library. Or at Amy’s. I took a chance it was the library. I was hoping to get here before you left.”

  Marian didn’t know how to respond to his openness. She unloosed the reins from the post and climbed into the cart.

  “I’d like a ride,” Roger said, leaning against the cart. “Will you give me one?”