by Tricia Goyer
Ben didn’t see her as Amish. He saw her as her, and she’d never experienced that before. Back in Indiana when she was around the Englisch, their awkwardness was obvious. People didn’t know how to talk to her. Some stared while others refused to meet her gaze. Even around the other Amish in her community, Marianna was watched and judged by how well she stuck to their ways. But with Ben . . . she sometimes forget she wore her kapp. She guessed that if one day she showed up in slacks and a blouse, he’d treat her no different. Ben saw her. It was something Marianna didn’t realize she’d been missing in life until she had it.
She moved passed him, still without looking at him, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel his presence. Didn’t breathe in the scent of his cologne.
Marianna moved to the coat room and grabbed her heavy, black wool coat, carrying it to the front door. Ben waited there. He motioned to her, and as she approached he took the coat, holding it as she slipped her arms in. Then he watched as she buttoned the top button.
She followed him to his truck and got inside, not realizing until she sat that she’d been holding her breath. The truck’s cab was no warmer than the outside. Finally warm air blew from the dashboard.
They were quiet as they rode along. A song played from the stereo, and Ben hummed. As they reached the long hill that dropped down toward the lake, he must have remembered that Amish weren’t supposed to listen to music like that and he turned it off.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I have some questions about your Amish ways.” He cleared his throat and glanced at her, but his look wasn’t fast enough. She caught the sparkle of his blue eyes.
“Okay, although the way you say that gives me a fright.”
He laughed, and the sound of it filled the cab. “You have to help me understand, why do you people do it? I’m not talking about the simple dress, I understand about not wanting to put emphasis on your clothes, but what about technology? I’ve driven the Amish to town and they come home to dark, cold homes. It takes time to light the lanterns and build a fire. Wouldn’t it be easier to just flip a switch and be done with it?”
“Modern technology weakens the family and brings temptation and vanity.” The words came out of Marianna’s mouth as easily as if she recited the alphabet. She talked more about why it was important to follow the ways of their ancestors—to not be prideful in thinking they had a new or better way. “If our way was good enough for my great-great-grandfather, who lived one hundred years ago, it should be good enough for me. I should be content.”
Ben nodded. She could tell he wasn’t trying to build a case for why they should do things a different way, but rather he listened to understand. As they neared the bottom of the hill, approaching Lake Koocanusa, the bumping of the truck smoothed as the dirt and gravel road turned into asphalt that had been cleared of snow. Up ahead, the bridge crossed the lake. Marianna’s breath pulled from her as she eyed the modern marvel that stretched across the expanse. In the distance, high mountain peaks jutted into the sky.
“And rumspringa? I’ve heard a little about it. One Amish family I drove had a teenage daughter. When we’d get to town, she’d take off her Amish dress and underneath she’d have on jeans and a T-shirt. Her parents never made a comment.”
“Rumspringa is sort of like this bridge. Amish youth go through a time that stretches between childhood and adulthood. From age sixteen to around nineteen or so, they can test the world. Usually they find there is nothing worth leaving everything they’ve known and believed.”
“Nothing? Is it only things that draw them away—cars, televisions, parties?”
“That’s part of it. But it’s also people.” They began to cross the bridge, Marianna’s stomach dropped. She turned her gaze away from the water and stared at the dashboard, not knowing if it was the height of the bridge, or the closeness of Ben, that gave her the uneasy sensation.
“People?” Ben glanced at her only briefly and then turned his gaze back to the road.
“Ja, if they fall in love with someone who is not Amish. Or with someone who left the Amish. It’s a great temptation. It’s not the technology that draws them—in fact, the matters of the world frighten some. Instead, it’s the matters of the heart.”
“Matters of the heart. I like that. It sounds simple and sweet.”
Marianna nodded, but as she did her gut tightened. There was nothing simple and sweet about her feelings for Ben. There was excitement and interest and . . . desire. Things that should never be.
“So do you know anyone who’s done that?”
“Ja, a number of people. Mostly older siblings of my friends. Some have come back. Some I’ve seen around town and such in their Englisch dress. We really don’t speak. And . . . well, my friend Naomi had planned on leaving. She was going to leave for my brother. He’s left the Amish. I’m not sure if you knew that.”
“Your Uncle Ike mentioned it. He’d tried to contact Levi—that’s his name, right?”
“Yes, Levi.”
“Your uncle’s tried to contact him to see if he wanted to come here and work. But from what Ike said, Levi wrote a letter and declined. He claimed your father worried about his influence on the younger boys, and Levi said it would be too heartbreaking to live near family and not see them.”
Marianna nodded. How strange that this Englischer could know so much about her family. What else had Uncle Ike told them? Marianna wiped her hands over her dress, suddenly feeling exposed.
Neither spoke for a moment and then Marianna turned to Ben, studying his profile. “Sometimes I still can’t believe Levi has left. It must have been hard for him.”
“I’m sure it was, but considering all the obstacles, I think staying is just as difficult. It takes courage to be an Amish in this world.”
“I’m not sure about that. Not if it’s all you’ve ever known.” Her hand tightened on the door handle.
“But you do know more now, don’t you? I mean living here . . . and with some of the folks you’ve met.”
“Yes, Ben, I know more.” She leaned forward, eager to see the buildings of Eureka looming ahead, but they still had a while to go yet.
He glanced at her, and she could see from the look in his eyes what he wanted to ask—he wanted to know if she’d ever considered leaving. But he pressed his lips together and focused on the road. She was glad for his silence, but she honestly didn’t know how she’d answer. Would she lie and tell him the thought had never occurred to her? Would she admit it? No, she couldn’t do that. To confess the idea had crossed her mind would bring more questions. She didn’t want to have to say that he was the reason—the only one. Him knowing would make things harder than they already were.
Protection for her heart showed itself as the silence that filled the air between them, yet like the homes and buildings that had been covered by the lake, there was more hidden inside, down deep.
By the time Marianna and Ben arrived at the hospital, it was clear Kenzie had had enough sitting still. As they walked into the small exam room, the little girl rushed toward Marianna, arms wide. She wrapped them around Marianna’s legs, pressing her cheek against her skirt. Marianna chuckled as she patted the young girl’s head and then turned to Jenny.
“How ya doing there?”
“Oh, okay I guess.” Jenny sat on the examination table with her sore arm pulled tight against her body. “They’re going to do an X-ray, but the machine wasn’t working right. They got a guy up from Kalispell and he’s fixing it.” She looked to Ben, smiled, and then turned back to Marianna. “Thanks for coming. I tried to entertain Kenzie, but it wasn’t working well.”
Marianna glanced around noticing a few rubber gloves that had been blown up to balloons. A paper cup, a few depression sticks, and a dozen tissues were scattered on the floor.
“No problem. We’ll go out for a walk,” Ben said.
Jenny wrinkled her nose. “Well, okay, but Kenzie only brought a sweatshirt.”
“Or we can go to the library,” Marianna im
provised. “Kenzie likes books.”
“Yeah!” Kenzie punched her arms into the air above her head.
With a small wave they were out the door, and five minutes later they were walking into the small library. Ben had tucked Kenzie inside his coat, and she giggled telling Marianna they looked like a two-headed monster.
Marianna was thankful when they stepped inside the front doors. Warmth enveloped her. She’d rarely visited the library in Indiana. She didn’t appreciate all the stares. She couldn’t pick up a book from the shelf without people going out of their way to walk by her and see what the Amish girl was reading.
This small library seemed more comfortable, more inviting. She noticed the children’s area straight ahead beyond the checkout counter and headed that direction. She stopped short though when she realized Ben didn’t follow. Looking back she saw he stood in place as if his feet were frozen to the ground. Kenzie babbled about something, but Ben wasn’t paying attention. Instead he focused on the line at the checkout counter. There were three teen girls in line with a few books each and a beautiful woman standing with them, checking something on her phone. As Marianna watched, the woman glanced up, met Ben’s gaze, and then squealed and hurried toward him. Even though Marianna couldn’t hear their conversation, she could tell the woman asked about Kenzie. Ben pointed out the window toward the clinic, no doubt telling her about Jenny.
Marianna couldn’t hear them as they continued to talk, but Kenzie’s voice was clear. “Down, down. I want Marianna!”
Ben unzipped his coat and let her down. Kenzie raced her direction. She should have taken the girl’s hand, turned around, and walked to the book area. Instead, she kept her eyes on the woman, waiting to see her reaction.
Yes, there, she saw it. Noticing Marianna’s Amish dress the woman’s eyes widened and then she forced a smile. Marianna smiled back and then ushered Kenzie into the children’s area.
“Find a gut book, ja?” She pointed to some easy readers, hoping Kenzie didn’t notice the quiver in her voice. Kenzie found a few books that interested her, and Marianna sat on a small reading bench—with her back to Ben—and pulled Kenzie on her lap. She tried to ignore the feeling that someone—or two people to be exact—were staring at her, their eyes boring through her kapp.
She was nearly through the second book, reading it aloud to Kenzie, when Marianna heard footsteps approach. A hand rested on her shoulder. She turned, looking up to Ben’s face. The woman stood next to him. Her hand clung on Ben’s elbow as if holding onto a lifeline, afraid he’d slip through her grasp.
“Marianna, I wanted to introduce you to one of my old friends, Carrie.”
“Old in number of years we’ve known each other, not in age.” The woman chuckled, and Marianna gazed up at her. And as their eyes met, the woman’s head jerked back—then her eyes narrowed.
“Hello, gut to meet you, Carrie.” Marianna smiled, unsure about the woman’s reaction. She held Kenzie closer, a shield protecting her from the piercing look.
“Yes, Marianna, it’s nice to meet you too. And I have to say you have the most amazing gray eyes.”
Ben felt Carrie’s hand tighten around his elbow.
“Beautiful gray eyes.” She turned to him. “Just like your song.”
“Song?”
At her question, Ben straightened his shoulders and stepped out of Carrie’s grasp. He walked to the bookshelf, pretending he hadn’t heard Marianna.
“Kenzie, do you want to help me find Dr. Seuss? His books are always a favorite.”
“My mama’s at the doctor,” Kenzie said. “She’s got an owie on her hand.”
Carrie laughed, but the laugh was tight, as if it caught in her throat. “I don’t think Ben’s talking about a real doctor, silly. Haven’t you heard of Dr. Seuss before?” Then she cleared her throat.
Ben looked back and noticed her narrowed gaze. Her stare was a mix of anger and pain. He knew what Carrie was thinking. She had everything—and Ben had instead been attracted to this . . . this simple Amish girl?
“Look for the shelves with the letter S, Ben.” Carrie pointed.
He nodded and turned back, noticing Kenzie had already pulled a few other books from the shelf.
Ben’s stomach churned as he pulled out Cat in the Hat and Green Eggs and Ham. Kenzie would enjoy them, but had Marianna ever read those books before? Not that Dr. Seuss was literature. What other books had Marianna missed out on? What artists hadn’t she heard of? She obviously had never heard a Josh Grobin song and had no idea who Celine Dion was. She’d never watched Star Wars or Lord of the Rings. Seeing Marianna side by side with Carrie showed him everything Marianna lacked, but it also made him appreciate her more. She wasn’t worried about getting her nails done or hair highlighted. She found more interest in cooking a good meal, or helping a friend, like she had for the second time in a week.
“So, Marianna, you don’t happen to be from Indiana, do you?” Carrie raised her voice, paying no attention to the fact they were in a library. A few other patrons from around the room turned and stared.
“Yes, how did you know?”
“Well, Ben used to be my boyfriend, but he told me he’s interested in a woman who moved here from Indiana. I assumed that was you. So do you like him too? Can you like him? Or would that be a sin to you?” Carrie placed a hand on her hip.
“Mari.” Ben rose and strode over to her. “You don’t have to answer that.”
Marianna turned to him, her eyes wide and full of questions. He saw something else too.
Tears.
“I believe I’ll keep the answer to that question to myself, but it was nice meeting you.” Marianna rose and touched her kapp, then pulled her fingers away as if she’d touched something hot. “I better help out Kenzie. I’ll let you and Ben get back to visiting.” She offered Carrie a thin hand. “It was gut to meet you.”
Carrie took Marianna’s hand and shook it. Then she smiled. “It was gut to meet you too.”
Marianna hurried over to where Kenzie had nearly cleared a shelf of books. “Oh, Kenzie, no.”
Ben didn’t look back. Instead he fixed his gaze on Carrie. “You didn’t have to treat her that way.”
“What way?” Carrie patted her head as if patting a kapp.
“She’s a good woman.”
“I bet she is. Aren’t all Amish gut?”
Before he could stop himself, Ben grabbed Carrie’s arm and pulled her toward the front door.
“Ouch, that pinches!” She hissed the words at him.
The teen girls were just finishing checking out and they eyed Ben.
He led Carrie outside. A cold wind hit Ben’s face and he released Carrie’s arm.
She zipped up her jacket and put her hood on.
“Are you crazy?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I’m not talking about that.” The wind blew strands of Carrie’s hair in her face and she quickly brushed it away. “I’m talking about her.”
“What’s wrong with her? Nothing. There is nothing wrong with Marianna. She’s good, she’s pure.”
Carrie opened her mouth wide and her face turned red. “Is that what it is? You got what you wanted out of me and then you want som—” She seemed to choke on the words. “Someone pure to be your wife?” Carrie crossed her arms over her chest.
“It’s not like that.” Ben’s heart grew heavy as if someone had filled it with concrete.
She didn’t seem to be listening and pulled her keys out of her jacket pocket. “I have to get the girls back to the ranch.” She moved to the door.
“Carrie. Did you hear me? I said it’s not like that. I didn’t mean it that way.” Ben reached out and took her hand, gentler this time. Carrie paused, but she didn’t look back.
“You can say what you want to say, Ben.” Pain laced her words. “But I know what I am, Ben, and no matter where I go or what good I do, I can’t forget that.” Her hand pulled away from his and reached for the door. “The
memories won’t let me forget.”
Ben watched her walk back inside, her shoulders slumped as if she carried the weight of those memories on them. Pain stabbed his heart again. Over the years he’d battled this very thing. He’d changed, but the changes came only after he’d caused people he cared about a world of pain. Jason was dead. Carrie, a shell of the woman she could have been. God had forgiven him, but like Carrie, Ben hadn’t forgotten. Each memory waited only a heartbeat away, whether he liked it or not.
As he stood there, in the cold, trying to get his composure, the door opened and three teen girls exited, followed by Carrie. All four of them looked straight ahead not acknowledging him as they passed. He guessed he deserved that. He also guessed those young women would get an earful from Carrie on the way home.
Taking in a breath of cold air, Ben walked back to where Marianna held Kenzie on her lap, reading. He sat on the bench next to them, and Kenzie hardly stirred, so engrossed was she in the story. Marianna glanced up and then returned to reading. Ben felt a tear come to his eye at the look she gave him. He expected her to be hurt by the way Carrie had acted. Instead, he noticed light, happiness coming from her eyes. If he would have guessed what she was thinking, he would have guessed it was this: “So you told her you liked me . . . that is gut.”
The thing was, he wished she didn’t know. He had a feeling when Roy found out about his feelings for Marianna, it would be seen as anything but good. Roy didn’t like his musicians to be distracted. He wanted their attention on the music first. More than that, Roy was all about image. How would it look for one of his star musicians to be courting an Amish girl? The media would have a heyday with that. He could almost imagine one of David Letterman’s top ten lists: “Ten Reasons a Rock Singer Needs an Amish Girlfriend.”
Ben could date a wild woman, someone immersed in the party and drug scene, and no one would think twice about it. But a woman who wore a prayer kapp and apron? Who didn’t use makeup or electricity, let alone technology?
Oh yeah. Roy would love having to explain that one without making Ben look like some kind of moron. Ben sighed.
