Beside Still Waters (A Big Sky)

by Tricia Goyer

  "Yes, I guess so. I'll have to take you guys down there sometime."

  Uncle Ike nodded, but Marianna noticed her parents exchanging glances. They didn't make it common practice to let their children socialize with the Englisch. No matter how nice someone seemed, her parents knew all too well that habits and beliefs had a way of rubbing off. Once the boys reached sixteen—when they were better able to make smart decisions—they would be able to venture into the world, but Marianna knew until then the only fishing they'd do was with Uncle Ike, her father, or another Amish man.

  The road turned, and Marianna sucked in a breath as they crossed over the lake on a long bridge that seemed to float in the sky over the water. She pressed her forehead against the van's glass window and peered into the sparkling blue water below. She'd never seen anything like it.

  At least I'll have something to write home about. The mountains. The lakes. She wished she could write about Ben, especially the tender way he'd tried to console Ellie, not understanding she didn't speak English. That interaction alone told Marianna he hadn't been driving for the Amish very long. The drivers back home understood Pennsylvania Dutch, even if they didn't speak it well. Yet, to mention Ben to her friends would give them the wrong impression. That's the last thing she needed—for word to get out that she'd gone fancy on an Englisch driver.

  Across the bridge they turned to the right, following a narrow, winding mountain road. Marianna was certain they would never reach this mysterious community—and then she spotted one house, and then two. More houses lined the road, and then an Englisch church. Not too much farther they came to an intersection with numerous buildings.

  "See that small log cabin on the corner? That's the school you'll attend." Uncle Ike pointed for the boys. They stared at the small building, the muddy playground, and the simple metal playground equipment. Marianna pictured rows of desks and students hard at work on their studies.

  "And just on the other side of that house is the store."

  West Kootenai Kraft and Grocery, the sign read. It, too, was a log cabin. At the end of the muddy parking lot was a wooden-planked walkway, just like the ones she'd read about in Wild West books.

  Ben parked the van in front of the store, and Uncle Ike jumped out of the front seat, opening the side door. David spilled out first, followed by the other boys who scanned the area as if they'd been plopped down in the middle of an adventure.

  "Look at that!" Charlie ran up to a tall log post near the store. On it were arrows pointing toward various locations and the distance written on them.

  "'North Pole 2,750 miles, South Pole 9,500 miles, Honolulu Hawaii 3,912 miles, Canada 2 miles.'" David grinned.

  "I had no idea we were that close to Canada." Marianna rubbed her sticky eyes, still hoping to wash her face. As hungry as she was, she longed even more for a bath and change of clothes. She entered the store with tentative steps. Would her family get the same curious looks here as on the train and at the station?

  An older gentleman stood behind a simple wooden counter to the left of the door, helping a customer. Beyond him were eight or ten rows of shelves with grocery items. Ike walked past those and turned right. There was an open kitchen and beyond that a large dining area. A couple tables had customers, but they barely glanced up when her family entered. A wood stove welcomed them into the dining area. Since the day had warmed up, it sat unused.

  A woman with long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail bustled out of the kitchen. A yellow scarf was tied over her hair, and she wore a white apron. Laugh lines around the woman's eyes gave away her age. She approached Mem arms wide.

  "There you are. I was wondering what took Ben so long. It's good he's a safe driver, but sometimes I want to tell him to put the pedal to the metal, especially when there's food waiting." The woman swept Mem into a hug and then reached over and shook Dat's hand. After a firm handshake, she turned to Marianna, swaggering forward like a cowgirl who'd just gotten off her horse.

  "Your uncle has told me a lot about you." She gave Marianna a quick hug. "He says you're a real hard worker. I'd like to talk to you sometime, but don't want to overwhelm you with too much too soon." The woman's chuckle split the air. "My friends tell me I can be overwhelming."

  "You?" Ben approached and patted her back. She was old enough to be his mother, but acted as sprightly as if they were peers.

  Ben sniffed the air. "What do you have cooking up?"

  "Breakfast casserole and homemade cinnamon rolls. I hope everyone will like it."

  Marianna's stomach rumbled, and suddenly it didn't matter that she hadn't washed her face yet.

  "Haven't had any of your cooking that I didn't like yet." Uncle Ike motioned to the dining area. "C'mon, don't be shy. Your first meal will be a free one. Annie does that so you'll get hooked on her cooking. It's trickery, I tell you."

  The little kids sat at a long table, and Ben sat with them. Pushing his silverware to the side, he set to work on making a paper airplane out of his napkin. Marianna couldn't help but watch and smile.

  Marianna sat with her parents and Uncle Ike. She was usually the one who sat with the kids, helping them, and making sure they minded their manners, but she didn't want anyone—Ben especially—to get the wrong idea.

  When Annie hurried to the kitchen to begin dishing up the food, Mem leaned forward, clearing her throat. "Are all the Englisch this friendly around here?" Her eyes widened. "I'm not sure what to think. A free meal? It's kind but . . ."

  Marianna knew how her mother's mind worked. A good deed done to her would require one in return.

  "Not all. The women folk are pretty much safe, but there are some loggers that would hike a woman over their shoulders and carry her into the woods if they thought they could get away with it." Uncle Ike shuddered.

  "Honestly?" Her mother placed a hand over her heart.

  Laughter burst from Uncle Ike's lips. "No, ma'am, they're as gentle as they come. Although I can't say as much about a few of the rich Californians who've made their way up here and bought up lots of land. Some of them can be sharp-tongued and demanding at times. Think the whole community needs to bow to them."

  The food was placed before them and the room grew quiet. Marianna saw her father's head drop, and she knew it was time for silent prayer. She folded her hands, closed her eyes, and bowed her head, knowing the others in her family were doing the same, even the little ones.

  "Everything smells so . . ." Ben's voice stopped, and she knew he realized what was happening. It was even clearer now that he hadn't been around Amish much. To have one meal shared together would have instructed him on their way.

  But it wasn't Ben's fault.

  Frustration tightened her gut, and when she opened her eyes, she cast a side glance at her father. Would it have been too hard for her father to have mentioned something? To say something as simple as, "We are going to pray."

  Her father seemed oblivious to her disapproval, and as Marianna scooped a large cinnamon roll onto her plate she glanced from Ben to Annie—who was humming as she scrubbed dishes in the kitchen—and Marianna realized something. This was the first meal she'd ever shared with the Englisch. Back home their drivers ate by themselves in their vehicles. Looking around it bothered her that it was such a big deal. Why should she even notice such a thing? Didn't God love these people, too? Didn't He call her to love others as He did?

  These new thoughts made her uncomfortable. In Indiana, where almost everyone she interacted with lived and believed as she did, she had no need to question these things.

  Taking a big bite of the cinnamon roll, she felt even more unsure about this place they had moved to. Not only was she changing homes, friends, and community, but the walls protecting their personal lives had already been bulldozed over by the chuckle of a friendly driver and the quick hugs of a store owner. She felt vulnerable, unprotected.

  And this was supposed to be better for her family?

  Marianna swallowed. Grief pressed on her chest as she consid
ered the loss of the place where she knew how everyone would act and where she felt safe. Even when their actions—like Levi's, like Rebecca's—weren't as she wished, at least she knew how to respond. She knew when to turn her back and when to hold on.

  In a strange way, familiar conflicts felt far safer than a strangers' embrace.

  Aaron tucked his hands into his pockets as he strode to his cabin. The sun had sunk over the horizon, but it was still light enough to see the grasshoppers jumping from the ground with his every step. He rubbed his eyes, and part of him wondered why he was even heading out here. He'd been up before dawn caring for his cattle. Then he'd gone to work at the Stoll's dairy only to come home to complete his dad's chores since his dad was working late at the mill. It seemed foolish to come. Marianna was gone. He'd have a house, but what good would that be without someone to share it with?

  The fluttering of wings overhead told him the bats were already coming out for their evening meal. He spotted the roof of his house through the trees . . . Would Marianna come back as she said? The house should be finished in just a few months, but he wouldn't be able to move in alone. He needed someone by his side to care for their animals, help grow their food. To try to tackle all of it alone would be impossible. Aaron spit on the ground, realizing that if he couldn't make this work, he'd have to follow his dad's advice and work at the mill. He'd have no choice.

  He hurried through the trees, deciding his only course of action would be to finish the house as planned and try to woo Marianna with his letters. If it came down to it, he could even hop on a train and go to Montana.

  Aaron's steps paused as his cabin came into view. A light shone from inside, and he saw movement. Who could be there?

  His footsteps quickened and then his heart leapt into his throat as he made out the figure of a woman. She wore the familiar blue dress, white kapp. Marianna!

  He broke into a run and laughter spilled from his lips. She'd come back. She'd returned.

  "I don't believe it. You're really here!" He darted through the doorway. Then the woman turned and a face he didn't expect was smiling at him. She lowered her head, red tinting her cheeks.

  "I didn't realize I'd get that type of welcome."

  "Naomi?" He rubbed his forehead. What was she doing here?

  "I'm sorry I came uninvited. I was visiting my cousin down the road, and stopped by at the chance you'd be here." She tucked a red curl behind her ear, then straightened her apron. "I can go. We can catch up another time." With quick steps she moved to the door.

  "No, wait!" He reached out his hand, stopping her. His hand brushed the sleeve of her dress and she paused.

  "I really didn't mean to be a bother. I"—Naomi lowered her gaze—"Well, when Levi left I remember how I felt. I just thought you'd need someone to talk to. I know his leaving was for a different reason, but it hurt just the same." Her lower lip quivered slightly, and Aaron stroked her arm, trying to comfort her.

  "I imagine that was hard." He stood there not knowing what else to say. He'd gone to school with Naomi, too, but they'd never talked much. Everyone had expected her and Levi to get married, and that's why it had been such a shock when Levi left. Aaron's sandpapered heart seemed to bleed a little more as he thought of what Naomi had gone through.

  "They're family. They've been through a lot." Naomi turned to him. "It's only understandable in a way that they'd have a hard time in relationships. I bet they're afraid to love after their losses."

  "Well." He cleared his throat. "Marianna and I weren't in a relationship—not yet."

  She walked to a sawhorse he had set up and brushed the sawdust off the top with her finger. "My ma tried to warn me. She said there were other boys in the community who were more stable, who'd provide a woman a good home." She stopped the movement of her finger and looked to him. "I didn't listen, and now my heart is broken in two."

  Aaron didn't know what to say. Marianna wasn't like Levi. She was opposite, in fact. She followed the laws of their people and cared for those in her family first. If she hadn't been such a good Amish daughter, he bet she would have stayed. It was the one time he wished Marianna had a disobedient streak in her.

  "Do you agree?" Naomi interrupted his thoughts. "Do you think it's because of their loss that they left us like that?"

  "I'm not sure." Aaron shrugged. "I—I guess so."

  "At least we have each other." Naomi stepped forward and lifted her head, looking into Aaron's face. "I'd hate to go through something like this alone."

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Marianna stared out the van's door at the log cabin, realizing she couldn't imagine a place more different than their sprawling white farmhouse back home. The cabin was nestled into the side of a hill, just off a pothole-riddled dirt road. A flat area to the north of the house had a fenced-in section that looked as if it had once housed a garden. Now a thin layer of pine needles covered the ground. Beyond the garden was a clothesline, a small shed, and a barn. They were all made of logs and had a weathered gray look, proving they'd seen better years.

  With squeals of excitement, the kids bounded from the van and raced through the front door. There wasn't a lock on it, Uncle Ike had informed them. No need really. One had to be more concerned about bears than thieves—an idea that didn't put Marianna's mind at ease.

  Her mother followed the kids into the house, and Ben set to work unloading boxes from the back of the van. There wasn't a walkway to the house. Instead four steps rose from the damp ground to the wraparound porch. Her mother paused, turned, and looked at her.

  "You coming?" Mem's face reflected a simple plea. Find a way to like it, her wide-eyed gaze seemed to say.

  Marianna looked to her father and Uncle Ike. Instead of going to the house, they headed to the barn first. Something inside told her to follow them. The barn seemed safer. Fewer emotions were tied up with that. Also with Ben unloading everything into the house, she thought it would be easier for him if she just stayed out of his way. Or maybe it was easier for her. He was handsome, she admitted to herself, and he did have a wonderful way with her siblings.

  Marianna followed her father and Uncle Ike into the barn first. He flipped on a light switch and electric lights buzzed on.

  "The lights are powered by a generator." Uncle Ike flipped a switch. "The owners used to have a small milking operation here and they had vacuum pumps."

  Marianna scanned the large stalls that were now empty of equipment and animals. Dirty straw littered the floor and the place smelled of dirt and mold. In one corner of the barn, a wheelbarrow was turned to its side. Near one of the stalls, a hole had been dug under the wall—most likely due to some type of creature that had wanted in. A squeak sounded behind her, and Marianna turned, but whatever had been there was already gone. Other animals had no doubt filled the space after the farm animals had left. She just hoped they'd be just as quick to move out as they had been to move in.

  She walked to the dusty window and glanced outside . . .

  What would her father do for work? There was a forest outside, not farmland. And surely there were no large mills in this area.

  She glanced to Dat, wondering if he'd would be okay without the open land. Back at their ninety-acre farm he grew two acres of sweet corn, a half acre of beans, and hundreds of tomato plants. Just last month he'd planted three acres of red potatoes, or taters as he called them. How would he feel knowing that someone else would reap the harvest of his work?

  "Tomorrow I'll bring over Silver." Uncle Ike strode to one of the far stalls, and she could see it was designed for a horse.

  "Silver? Like the metal?" She moved toward him. "That's a strange thing to name your horse after."

  "Actually, the owner told me she was named after a famous television horse from a while back. When I told 'em I still didn't know who that was, the man tried to explain the television show." Uncle Ike snickered. "It was only after he was going on a few minutes that he remembered Amish don't watch television." Uncle Ike looped his thumbs throu
gh his suspenders and leaned back on his heels chuckling.

  "Really? He didn't know that?" Back in Indiana people in the neighboring communities knew the Amish rules as well as the Amish themselves. She'd been reminded of this as a child when she entered stores where televisions played. "Just because it's there doesn't mean we indulge ourselves," her mother would always say. "What would those watching us think?" Mem always meant Amish and non-Amish alike.

  "Well, I'm sure he had heard about the rule against televisions at one time, but that's something else I like about these parts." Uncle Ike used a handkerchief in his pocket to bat down some of the cobwebs that hung over the stalls. "People are people here. We are known more for who we are as individuals, not by our dress or our ways. His poor attempt at cleaning filled the air with dust, and he let out a powerful sneeze. Then, shaking his head as if to shake away the dust tickling his nose, he continued. "There's all types of crazy characters, and I don't get the feeling of 'us' and 'them' like I did back in Indiana."

  Uncle Ike and Dat continued talking about some of the neighbors, and Marianna looked out the doorway. The van was gone. She felt bad that she hadn't said good-bye to Ben, but relieved that it was just their family again. She moved out the barn door toward the house, her shoes crunching on the dead pine needles from last fall. The needles made a carpet over tufts of green grass that attempted to poke through, and she made a mental note that raking would be a good job for the boys tomorrow, if they could find rakes, that is.

  "Marianna." Ben's voice startled her, and she turned. He walked up the dirt road, hands in pockets. He waved as he neared. She crossed her arms over her chest and waited for him to approach. Why on earth was she short of breath all of a sudden? She willed her heart to calm its wild beat.

  She lifted her chin and looked behind him. "Yer walking now? Did you lose the van?" She cocked her head. "I've heard of horses running off but never a vehicle so large."

  His head bobbed up and down.