by Tricia Goyer
Rebecca looked to Marianna. “ ‘If you hang around them too much, you just might be like them,’ ” Rebecca said, mimicking her mem’s voice. “That’s what my parents warned me every time I wanted to see someone—talk to someone—who’d left the Amish.” Rebecca’s lips parted slightly. “It’s true,” she said softly. “I’ve seen the change in you, Marianna. Being around you has made me want what you have . . . and not jest a handsome husband, although I wouldn’t mind one of those too.” Rebecca grew serious. “But I do want to believe what you have to say is true . . .”
“We can pray now—do you need me to lead you?” Marianna smiled. “All you have to do is let Jesus know that you choose Him and you believe He’s chosen you.”
Rebecca shook her head, and then she lowered it. “I think I’ve got this.” Her chest warmed as a few simple sentences emerged from her lips. “Jesus, You were betrayed by the kiss of a friend, and though I’ve tried to live my life following You, I’ve also betrayed You in so many ways. Will You forgive me for my sins? I’m ready to take the step, Lord. I know it’s only by accepting You as my bridge that I will be able to celebrate with You in eternity after my life here is through.”
When she glanced up, there were more tears in Marianna’s eyes. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.” Then she let out a sigh. “Are you ready to go in and see your parents?”
Rebecca wiped at the tears forming in her eyes and nodded. “Ja, I think I should . . . but I’m not sure they’ll understand.”
“They may not, but they love you. Don’t you forget that. Them coming here proved it.”
Marianna smiled and opened the door of the truck.
Rebecca climbed out of the truck, too, and then she paused. In her mind’s eye, she wrote an imaginary note for the conversation to come. She sucked in a large breath and closed her eyes, imagining herself placing it in her newest God box—her heart.
CHAPTER
24
Rebecca took a deep breath, preparing to knock. She paused and turned to Marianna. “Do you remember what Claudia used to do when she was nervous?”
“Ach, ja, she’d whistle like a little bird to try to distract herself.” Marianna offered a sad smile. “Do you remember how she was afraid of thunderstorms too? Growing up I never wanted to stay over at your house on stormy nights. Between the thunder and the whistling I didn’t get a moment of sleep.”
Marianna placed a hand on Rebecca’s arm. “Just relax and cling to that new hope that’s in your heart. Even if your parents don’t understand, Rebecca, God is with you. God has a gut plan for your life.”
Rebecca heard her dat’s heavy footsteps approaching the door. He must have heard their voices. She held her breath as the door opened. Then she saw his Amish shirt and suspenders, the long beard—a mix of gray and black—that went to the second button of his shirt. Brown eyes filled now with worry, fear. So familiar, yet foreign here.
“Dat.” The word barely escaped her lips.
He took a step toward her, and she thought for a minute he was going to grab her up in a hug. Instead he paused, looked at her Englisch clothes, and his brow furrowed. “Your mem has been worried about you.”
“Ja, I know.” What else could she say? “I am sorry. I didn’t handle it well.”
“Kumme.” He motioned for her to enter.
Rebecca walked in and Marianna followed. Seeing the concern on her dat’s face at having her friend there, Rebecca turned back to her. “Maybe you should wait in the truck?”
“Ja, of course.” Marianna leaned forward and offered Rebecca a quick hug. “I’ll be praying,” she whispered in her ear.
Rebecca stepped farther inside. The room was simple but clean. The best part was a sitting area with a large window overlooking a forested area. Was it just last night that she’d sat on a log by the fire, accepting Caleb’s kiss?
Her mem stood up from the chair and turned to Rebecca. Her eyes were red and swollen. More tears came fresh when she saw Rebecca standing there in Englisch clothes.
Rebecca wished she could smooth the worry from her mem’s mind, blow it away like the puff on a dandelion. She wished she could explain that even though she dressed this way on the outside, her heart had more peace now than it had had in a very long time. But her mother only saw what she wanted to see. Her mother only thought what she’d been raised to know as truth.
Rebecca placed a hand to her neck. Her throat stung, trying to swallow down emotion. The last time she’d seen her mother’s eyes so red and swollen had been after Claudia’s death. An ache spread through her. At least with Claudia, her parents had hope that Claudia was with God. But her? Her parents thought she was doomed for certain. Rebecca bit her lip, angry at herself for all the worry she had caused.
“Mem, I’m so sorry for hurting you.” She rushed over to the chair closest to her mem. “I’m here now. You don’t have to worry.”
Her mem sank back down into her own chair. “We—we didn’t know where you were. Then we heard from Fannie Petershwim that you’d been with your Englisch friend, Lora. We finally tracked Lora down, and she told us you were going to Oregon, of all places—to college or some foolhardy place like that. We were relieved when we received word that you were in Montana instead, visiting Marianna. I just don’t know why you didn’t tell us. Why you left like that. We were so worried, and little Claude . . . He kept crying out, asking for you. We had no idea where you could have gone.”
“Mem, didn’t you get my letter?” Rebecca asked.
“Letter?”
“I left it in my trunk.”
“But why would I go into your trunk?”
Rebecca shrugged. “I don’t know. I just thought that you’d try to figure out where I went and you’d look around.”
“I don’t know why you thought that. I’ve never been in your trunk.”
Rebecca pressed her fingertips to her temple. “Yes, fine. I’m sorry. But I left you a note. I told you that I was leaving . . . for a long time. I told you that I was following what I felt called to do.”
“Move to Montana?” her dat butted in. “If you wanted to move, then you should have told us. I—”
“Dat!” Rebecca interrupted. “Lora was right. I left to go to Oregon. Stopping to see Marianna was a decision that I made on the way.”
Mem pressed her hands together. “Ja, vell, I don’t see what appeal Oregon has. We’re here now. Marianna said that we can get return tickets home whenever we need them. If you need to get away for a while, there are those buses to Pinecraft.”
Rebecca tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “Mem, will you let me talk for just a few minutes, please? I’m going to Oregon because I have a scholarship. I’m going to nursing school. I’m going to be a nurse.”
“A nurse?” The disbelief and shock on Mem’s face couldn’t have been more apparent if Rebecca had told her that she was going to the moon.
“How in the world can you become a nurse?” Dat interjected. “They have requirements . . .”
“Requirements that I’ve met.” Rebecca crossed her arms over her chest and pulled them in tight. She felt like shouting at her parents, telling them to listen to her. Anger swept in, heating her face. Over the last few days she’d felt guilty for leaving. But now, trying to have this conversation, she remembered why she’d chosen to do what she did.
“What do you mean you’ve met the requirements?”
Rebecca didn’t know what to do but just confess everything. They were already angry, hurt . . . What more could she do to make them ache so? A lot, she realized, and that ache would come with her words.
“For the last three years I’ve been taking online classes. I’ve borrowed a computer, and I got my high school diploma. I had a friend who helped me with scholarships. She wrote letters for me, and most of my fees were waived because of my unique circumstances. People felt sorry for me because in the eyes of my family and community my desire for an education was considered to be going against the church.”
She looked into his eyes. “I have a diploma, Dat. I have an associate’s degree, and I’ve also taken a few Emergency Medical Technician classes.”
Where most Englisch parents would be proud, tears filled her father’s eyes. Getting schooling according to the ways of the world was no good to them. It meant becoming full of head knowledge. It meant walking in the ways of the world.
“And in Oregon . . . you’re going to nursing school? You’ve already been accepted?” There was a tremble in Mem’s voice. “That’s not possible . . . You’re an Amish woman, Rebecca. Your role is to join the church. To marry. To have children.”
“That’s what the role of most Amish wo—”
“Yours! It’s yours.” Mem raised her voice, and then the tears came harder and she covered her face with her hands, lowering it so all Rebecca could see was the top of her starched white kapp.
Rebecca did her best to keep her voice steady. How could she make them understand? “But what if I were to say that I feel called to this, Mem?” she said, barely above a whisper. “That I felt that God was going to do a good work with me? I’ve worked so hard, and God has brought help in unexpected ways. I feel that I am supposed to go to nursing school, and after that . . .” She paused there. As she spoke, Caleb’s face flashed in her mind. Yes, she cared for him, but if God had plans for them to be together, He’d bring that about somehow, just as He’d brought them together. She didn’t need to bring him up now. Not yet.
“Someday I might find a gut Amishman and marry and have children,” she continued.
“A gut Amishman will not want a woman like you.”
“I know you believe that.” She lowered her head and looked to her lap. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
“And when are you heading there? When are you going to Oregon?”
“Tomorrow.” The answer came quickly, yet even as Rebecca said those words, she knew it was the right answer. She couldn’t imagine going back on the wagon ride. She’d have more time with Caleb if she did, but that would just make things harder when she left. And then she’d also feel the tension of her parents being here. They wouldn’t leave Montana until she did. She wouldn’t be able to relax. She would have to face this battle day after day. No, it was best that she left as soon as possible.
“Is there anything that we can do to make you change your mind?”
“No, nothing.”
“Tomorrow?” her mem asked again.
Rebecca remembered seeing on the Amtrak map that there was a station in Libby. She had her suitcase. She had everything she needed. She could go. “Ja.”
Her heart ached at having to tell Caleb. Would he understand?
Rebecca stood. “I’m going to go talk to my friends and get my things. And if it’s okay, can I stay with you here tonight? I’d like some time with you—”
“If that’s what you want,” her mother interrupted. “Are you sure your Englisch friends won’t mind?”
“Englisch and Amish,” she corrected. “Ike, Caleb, Amos . . . they are all Amish, and—”
“Anyone who would be such close friends with the Englisch might as well be Englisch themselves,” Dat commented.
Rebecca nodded, but she didn’t respond. It would be no use commenting. It would be no use trying to explain herself. Not even bringing up Claudia’s death would help. If anything, it would make her parents focus on the fact they’d lost two daughters. Over the months to come she could pray for their understanding. She could pray that God would speak to their hearts. But until then she’d just have to live with the knowledge that she’d disappointed her parents.
“Would you like me to bring you back some food? Or maybe we could go to dinner. If you’d like to meet my friends.”
“Ne, we’ll be fine.” Mem’s voice was curt, and she looked weary with the realization that they’d come all this way and it had done no good.
When Rebecca walked outside, Marianna was still waiting in the truck.
“How did it go?” she asked as Rebecca climbed in.
“Not well. They don’t understand at all.”
“Did you think they would?”
“Ne, the truth is that what happened is exactly what I expected.”
“So what’s going to happen now?” Marianna asked.
“Tomorrow I’m getting on a train.”
Marianna gasped. “What? Are you going back with them?”
“Ne, I’m heading to Oregon. I’m going to set out to do what I started.”
“And what about Caleb? I could see the looks that have passed between you. Something special is there, Rebecca.”
“Ja, and I just have to trust that God will show us a way.”
CHAPTER
25
By the time they got back to the campsite, the horses were corralled and the tents were set up. Tears filled Rebecca’s eyes to see her tent right next to Annie’s. She had no doubt that her sleeping bag, pillow, and suitcase were inside.
The guys were sitting on a bench looking through a phone book. Ike looked up and waved as she and Marianna approached. “Now that we’re in civilization, we’re having a hard time deciding what to eat.”
“Pizza!” Annie called from where she and Millie were playing horseshoes. “That’s the only thing I can guarantee you won’t be having on the trail.”
As Rebecca approached, Caleb glanced up and smiled. Then his smile faded. Worry filled his face. He’d probably guessed that things hadn’t gone well.
He stood and strode up to her, reached out and took her hand, rubbing her fingers. “Hey, are you okay?”
“Ne, not at all. They want me to go home with them. They don’t understand. They believe I’m making a horrible choice. And . . .” She looked into his eyes. “They’re ashamed of me—of what I’ve done. You can see it all over their faces.”
“I’m so sorry, Rebecca. I know that you expected things would be like this, but that doesn’t make the pain easier.”
She nodded, knowing that what she had to tell him next would be even harder.
“As I talked to them, I had a feeling that I had to continue on—to stick to my plan. They need to know that I’m serious. They need to be able to return home and mourn, just as they had to do with Claudia.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t understand.” He let go of her and crossed his arms.
“You’re not going to like what I have to say, Caleb.”
“I don’t like the sound of that.”
She turned away. “I need to leave. I’m not going to go on the wagon train back. I need to go on. I need to go to Portland.”
“Excuse me?” His voice took on a sharp tone, even though she could tell he was trying to control it. “You’re going to walk away from the only time we’re going to have together for a while?”
She stretched her neck and lifted her chin. “I don’t want you to think that I’m leaving you. That’s not what I’m doing.”
“You’re letting them do this to you. You’re running again.” He took her arm and gently spun her back around to face him. “You said yourself that school doesn’t start for a few weeks. I want you to think about my heart. I want this time with you.”
“Please, Caleb. They aren’t going to leave until I do.”
“Then I’m going to follow you. I’ll go to Portland for a few weeks. I can help you there.”
“No.” The word shot from her lips. Her eyes widened. “Do you know how that’ll look?” She gazed into his blue eyes, telling herself to stay strong. “You’ll be all right. We’ll be all right.” She reached up and placed a hand on his chest. His plaid shirt was warm from the sun, and she could feel the pounding of his heart from within. His heartbeat was quick, and from the look in his eyes, his mind raced just as quickly.
“I’ll consider coming back at Thanksgiving or Christmas. It’s only a day’s ride on the train. It’s not that far, and we can go for a hike in the snow.”
She tried to forget that the others were no doubt watching them. She tried
to ignore the wind chime that rang out again and again from the motor home parked just a few slots over. She told herself that this was the hard part—that once she got on the train everything would be all right. But that wasn’t the truth either. Once one had given part of one’s heart away, it would always ache—at least until it was reunited with the other half again.
“What if I said I wasn’t going to be here? That maybe I’d already thought about leaving Montana?” Caleb said.
Their eyes met again. Now it was her turn to say, “Excuse me?”
“Oh, you don’t like that, do you?” he huffed. “I was going to wait until you left in a few weeks, but I might go sooner.”
“But why?” She brushed a few dark strands of hair back from her face.
“My opa. I thought you would have figured it out. You were right when you said that he would be happy to see me—that he wouldn’t be bothered about the condition of his farm as much as he’d be happy to see me. I’ve been selfish, Rebecca. I told myself that I was only following the advice he gave me. That it was important for me to experience life and to see different parts of the world. That it would be important to him. But I was protecting myself. I didn’t want to feel the ache of seeing him like that. I didn’t want to see the shell of the man while longing for the bright, active Opa I used to know. But something Millie told me really helped.”
“What’s that, Caleb?”
“She told me that we think we’re in the land of the living and then we die, but the opposite is true. We’re in the land of the dying, and it’s only after we die that we truly live. I need to be there for Opa.”
“I think you’re right, Caleb. I can’t wait to hear about it when you go back. Do you promise to write and call?”
