“A ride?” Marian was flustered. She’d already glanced around twice to ensure no one was watching her speak with an Englisch boy. “Didn’t you drive a car?”
“Sure I did. Riding in a car is no big deal. I thought it’d be fun to ride in a wagon.”
He gave her such a charming smile, she became unnerved enough to nod her agreement. With a smooth leap, he was sitting next to her on the bench seat. Marian immediately regretted her assent. She began to perspire, feeling the dampness cover her face and hands. She clenched the reins tight.
“Are we gonna go?” Roger asked, looking at her. “Wait. Are you all right?”
She swallowed twice, willing her pulse to stop racing. “Uh … uh…”
He put his hand on her shoulder, and she flinched. Without a word, he climbed out of the cart. “You don’t really want to give me a ride, do you?”
She shook her head. Then she nodded. Then she shook her head again. I must look a fool, she despaired.
She mustered up the nerve to look directly at him. His eyebrows were drawn down in a frown.
“I was wrong to ask,” he said. “Treating this like some kind of carnival ride or something.” His face flushed, and he clasped the edge of the cart. “I’m sorry, Marian.”
He looked so contrite, Marian’s heart went out to him.
“Nee, it’s not that.” Her words came quickly. “It’s just that I shouldn’t be seen with you. That’s all.”
He tipped his head and regarded her. “So, you’re not offended?”
“Should I be?”
“I hope not.” He gave her a smile that sent her pulses racing. “Hey,” he continued, “if we weren’t in public, could you give me a ride then?”
She couldn’t help but ask, “Where wouldn’t we be in public?”
“I have an idea,” he said. “If you’re interested.”
“What’s your idea?” She was treading out to thin ice that could easily break wide open, but she couldn’t stop responding to his engaging manner.
“There’s an old speedway not far out of town. You been there?”
“Nee. But I’ve passed by.”
“You could give me a spin around the track a few times.”
She smiled. Never had anything sounded like such wonderful fun. “I could.”
“Will you get in trouble?”
Would she? Not if no one saw them or reported the incident to her father.
“I don’t think so,” she said.
Roger grinned. “All right then. But I was serious, you know. I wouldn’t want to be the cause of trouble for you.”
“Thank you.”
He gave a resounding clap and then backed away from the cart. “No, thank you! I’ll meet you there.” And with that, he strode quickly to his car—a small black affair with only two doors—and got in.
Marian pulled on the reins to back up a bit before giving Frisky a click of her tongue. She turned the wagon the opposite direction from home and headed to the old speedway track. It shouldn’t take but fifteen minutes or so to get there.
Three
It took twenty-five. Marian hadn’t counted on having to stop for a train to pass. She wondered if Roger would wait for her. Surely he had arrived within minutes in his car. As she neared the speedway, she found herself torn between hoping he was there and hoping he wasn’t. Did rumspringa really give her permission to meet Englisch boys in deserted places?
She didn’t think so. And she’d known plenty of sweet Amish girls who’d lived to regret their hasty decisions regarding Englisch boys.
Would she regret it, too?
But as she turned Frisky into the large lot and saw Roger leaning against his car waving at her, all worry slipped away.
“You made it!” he called.
She pulled the cart up to his car. “I’m sorry it took so long. I had to wait for a train.”
“No worries. I’m just glad you came.”
Again, he leapt into the cart and sat beside her on the bench. The pony cart wasn’t large and neither was the bench. Roger’s leg rubbed up against hers, and Marian could hardly concentrate enough to give Frisky the go ahead. But within minutes, Frisky was trotting around the track.
Roger raised his arms and laughed. “We do this on rides at the fair. Hold up our hands.”
Marian giggled at him. “Looks like you’re trying to fly.”
“Maybe I am!”
Marian shook her head in amusement. “I didn’t know Englischers were so strange.”
“So I’m strange to you, am I?” His face grew serious.
Her brow crinkled into a frown. “Nee, I mean, no. I mean…”
He laughed. “Oh, Marian, you are something else!”
She pressed her lips together and concentrated on Frisky.
“Do I make you nervous?”
She nodded.
“Do you want to try to fly?” he asked. “I’m sure I can drive this wagon.”
She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “You think so?”
“Sure. Why not?”
She debated for a brief moment and then handed him the reins. He gave them a gentle slap, and Frisky increased her speed.
“Put your arms up!” he said.
She raised her arms high and felt the wind rush by. The sun enveloped her in warmth, and she felt her spirits soar. She began to giggle and then laugh out loud.
“I’m flying!” she called out. “I’m flying!”
Roger laughed along with her. She knew he watched her—that he hadn’t taken his eyes from her.
She lowered her arms, but she kept smiling for the pure joy of it all. Roger nudged her, and she nudged him back. It was like they’d been friends forever.
Roger tugged back a bit on the reins, and Frisky slowed to a trot and then to a walk. They continued to circle the track, Marian silent now as she simply rode and enjoyed the moment.
When they neared the beginning of the track, close to where Roger had parked his car, he pulled back on the reins and Frisky stopped. He turned to Marian. “This was the most fun I’ve had in weeks,” he said quietly. “Thank you, Marian.”
“It was the most fun I’ve had maybe ever,” Marian murmured in reply. Then she put her hand to her mouth, embarrassed to have revealed such a private thought to this Englischer.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Roger said. He handed her the reins, brushing his hand against hers. His touch zapped through her, and she stared down at her hands, unmoving.
“Can I see you again?” he asked.
Marian felt a moment of fear. What was she doing? She couldn’t become involved with an Englischer. But the thought of not having such fun again sent a spasm through her stomach. She paused and waited for it to pass. She hadn’t been raised to give in to her emotions.
“Nee. I don’t think it would be wise,” she said, her voice soft.
He didn’t respond for a moment. Then with a sigh, he agreed. “You’re probably right.” He climbed from the cart. “But today was wonderful.”
She nodded. “Jah. It was.”
“I’m still going to follow your blog.”
She gave him a half-smile. “All right.”
“Then I guess this is good-bye.”
“Jah. Good-bye, Roger.”
She stared at him as he walked away.
“Go with God!” she called out after him.
He lifted his hand but kept walking to his car.
****
Marian urged Frisky on, now worried about arriving home well beyond the expected hour. She dashed into Feed & Supply, grabbed Mamm’s items, and practically jumped back in the cart to continue home.
She was still in a state of animation over her encounter with Roger. As the wind rushed by her on the way home, she was mentally back at the speedway, raising her arms, flying around the field. She heard Roger’s laugh in her mind and cherished every unexpected moment of their adventure.
Never had she known anyone so fun-loving. Never had she
felt so carefree and uninhibited.
What would Amy think about her escapade? Marian wanted to tell her immediately, but there was no way to contact her. She wouldn’t be able to check for a message on her email account until she returned to the library. But, oh, how she wanted to tell her.
Or tell someone.
She wondered what Lizzie Bontrager would think. Knowing Lizzie, she would think it was wonderful.
And it was. Beyond wonderful.
She pulled into the lane to their house and drove the cart to the barn. She climbed out and unhitched Frisky. “Come on, girl,” she crooned. “You worked unusually hard today. I’m going to take an extra minute to give you a special rubdown.”
She led the horse inside the barn and grabbed the brush she always used on Frisky. She gave her long strokes, talking to her all the while. Frisky responded by nuzzling Marian’s chest. Marian laughed and gave her another stroke.
“You’re late, daughter,” Dat said, standing at the barn entrance. His expression was rigid and his arms hung stiffly at his sides.
Marian’s hand lowered from Frisky’s back. “I’m sorry, Dat. But I’m here now, and I got Mamm’s things.”
“Your mamm is plum wore-out today. I sent her to bed.”
“And she went?” Marian’s mouth opened in surprise. Lying down during the day was simply not done unless one was terribly ill.
“She never even argued. Izzie needs tending.”
“Where is she?”
“In her crib. She’s still napping, but I reckon she’ll be up right quick.”
Marian dropped the brush onto the wooden shelf. She grabbed the bag from Feed & Supply and hurried off toward the house.
“Marian!” her dat called.
She paused and looked back.
“Don’t disturb your mamm.”
She frowned. “I won’t, Dat. I’ll just see to Izzie.”
She ran the rest of the way, the troubled look on her father’s face imprinted on her mind. What if Mamm really was sick? What if it was serious? What if…
She burst through the side door, her ears alert for the slightest sound of Izzie. She breathed with relief when she heard nothing. Still, she scurried upstairs and tiptoed to the baby’s room. She inched the door open and peered inside. Izzie was on her tummy, knees shoved up beneath herself, and her bottom sticking up in the air. Still sound asleep.
Quietly, Marian backed out of her room. She stood in the hallway, staring at her mamm and dat’s bedroom door. It was closed tight. She crept close and put her ear next to the wood. She stayed like that for a minute or two feeling the cool smooth surface against her skin, but she heard nothing. With a sigh, she headed back to the stairway. She forgot to avoid the top step that creaked under any weight, and a sharp sound echoed through the hallway.
“Who’s there?” came her mother’s strident voice.
Marian’s shoulders tensed as she went back to her mamm’s room. She knocked softly and opened the door.
“Hello, Mamm. It’s me. Are you all right?”
The curtains had been pulled and the room lay in shadows. In the partial darkness, Marian could see Mamm sitting up, looking at her.
“I’m in bed,” Mamm replied.
“Can I get you some chamomile tea? It might settle your tummy.”
“My tummy isn’t upset,” Mamm snapped. “Your fool dat sent me in here. I’m perfectly fine now.”
She tossed back the covers and got up.
“Mamm, please, let me get you some tea. You can rest awhile, and I’ll get dinner.”
“Ach! You’ll get dinner? How will you do that? You’re but a babe.”
Marian went stiff. “Mamm?”
Mamm stepped across the room and pushed Marian aside with the back of her hand. “You run outside and play now. I’ve almost got dinner ready.”
Mamm adjusted her kapp over her tight bun and walked out of the room. Marian stared after her. A babe? A wave of fear clutched Marian’s heart. Something was wrong even if Dat denied it. Mamm was not acting normally.
Does she really think I’m still a child?
If Dat wouldn’t listen to her concerns, Marian would go to her aenti. Yes, that’s what she would do. Aenti Barb would help her.
****
Marian got her chance to leave the house after she’d finished the supper dishes. She told her parents she was going for a walk, which was true. She merely didn’t mention where she was walking. When she left, Dat was rocking Izzie on the porch and Mamm was sitting beside him, knitting on a scarf she’d started months earlier. They looked the perfect picture of complete normalcy. Marian felt a catch in her throat as she glanced at them one last time before hurrying down the lane toward Aenti Barb’s place.
She heard the commotion of the youngsters’ voices from a good stretch away. She recognized her young cousins hollering as they played what sounded like tag. She knew poor little Alfred would have been the one just tagged. Being only five, he simply couldn’t keep pace with the others.
Marian increased her speed and was instantly surrounded when she reached the farm. The children swarmed her, clamoring at her to join in the fun.
“It’s especially good when it’s almost dark,” Patty, the eldest of the cousins, said.
“Not now, little ones. I need to talk to your mama. Is she about?”
“She’s inside,” Alfred said with a shy grin.
Marian patted his blond curls. “Thank you. I’ll go on in then.”
She extricated herself from all five of them and went through the front door into the kitchen.
“Aenti?” she called.
“Ach! Is that you, Marian?” Barb got up from a rocker that was positioned next to the cook stove. “You caught me catching a moment.” Her face was flushed as she stood.
Marian waved her arm. “With that parcel outside, I’d say you’ve earned more than a moment.”
Barb laughed. “Can I get you some tea? Would you like a fresh-baked peanut butter cookie?”
Marian’s shook her head. “I need to speak with you, Aenti.”
Barb’s face turned serious. She pulled a chair from across the room and set it next to the rocker. “Sit down, child. What is it?”
“It’s Mamm.”
Barb frowned and sat back in the rocker. “I knew this would happen.”
“What do you mean?” Marian asked, dread and fear swirling through her stomach.
“I’m getting ahead of myself,” Barb said, her hands fidgeting in her lap. “Suppose you tell me what’s happening.”
“I think something’s wrong with her mind. She’s neglecting Izzie one minute and calling me a babe the next. She’s confused. Harsher than usual.” The words flowed from Marian, and she clenched the arms of the chair, as if that would keep her from falling into a deep hole.
Barb closed her eyes and rocked for a moment. Marian looked on, the tension inside mounting. Finally, she could wait no longer. “What is it? What’s happening to her?”
“You’ve spoken to your dat?”
“Jah, but he shrugs it off.”
“I told him you were old enough.”
“Old enough for what?” Marian had to force herself to stay seated. “What is it?” Her voice grew louder.
Barb sighed heavily. “I’m going to break confidence and tell you.” Her hazel eyes—eyes that looked nearly identical to Mamm’s—misted over. “Fact is, your mamm has lost another baby. Recent like.”
Now Marian did jump from her chair. “What?”
Barb reached out and grabbed her hand, trying to pull her back to a sitting position. “Sit down, child.”
“I’m not a child!”
“That’s not what I meant. Sit down, please.”
Marian sat. “What baby, Aenti?”
Barb began rocking again, more rapidly this time. “Your mamm has had her share of woe with birthing babies. Indeed, her share of bad luck bringing them to term.”
“Them? You mean, besides Izzie and me?”
<
br /> Barb nodded her head and a pained look came to her face. “Counting this last one, she’s lost four.”
“Four?” Marian’s world turned upside down. “How can that be?”
Barb put her hand on Marian’s knee. “Two before you. One between you and Izzie and now this one.”
“But I didn’t even know she was in the family way!”
“Her pattern is to carry them between two and three months. Then, nature has its way and she loses them.” Barb’s face crumpled, and she sniffed. Then she blinked hard, and her features smoothed back out. “It’s affected her.”
“Of course it would affect her! But why wasn’t I told?”
“She keeps it quiet. The first two times, most of the family knew, which made it worse for Lydia. She wanted to grieve in silence.”
“But this last time? I don’t understand. How could I not know?”
“We thought this time, it would be all right. She had no nausea—she felt fine. I think she was ready to break the news to you and the rest of the family when it happened again.”
“But how could I not know?” Marian repeated for the third time, her mind struggling to make sense of it.
“You weren’t home when it happened. Zeb fetched me, and I helped her through it. He didn’t even bother with the midwife. He knew only too well what was happening.”
Dazed, Marian sat without moving, staring at her aunt’s face.
“After I bathed Lydia and cleaned everything up, she insisted on going down and cooking dinner. She wouldn’t rest. It was odd her getting up like that, for sure and for certain. But I let her be.”
Marian’s heart squeezed as she envisioned her mamm getting up directly afterward to begin dinner preparations.
“I told Zeb there and then, you must be told. He said nee. Lydia didn’t want it told.” Barb looked at her with such sadness, Marian’s chest constricted. “I honored his wishes though I didn’t agree. Still don’t. You could have been a help to her.”
Barb leaned closer. “It’s marked her. Each time, I’ve watched her struggle to accept it, to exercise her faith. To believe the Good Lord is watching out for her.”
Marian sank heavily against the back of the chair. How was it possible this had happened right in her very own house, and she’d had no knowledge of it?
Amish Romance BOOK BUNDLE: Marian's Story: Amish Romance Boxed Set (Hollybrook Amish Romance) Page 3
