Beside Still Waters (A Big Sky) Read online

  As the frustrated anger grew and filled her, Marianna couldn't agree more. She needed to leave. And soon. This place wasn't doing her any good. If she left, she could spend time with Aaron. She could see his cabin, and they could spend time going on walks or drives, getting to know each other better. Then she could forget about Ben Stone. She could also keep her mind on the things she should. This world tugged at her, trying to pull her away from all she knew. To return would be the answer. To return meant safety, security, familiarity.

  She grabbed up the letter and took it to her room, placing it on top of her dresser. Then she looked to the bed where her quilt was. She'd finished most of the hand-stitching and just had a little more to do.

  She'd work hard and finish it, because she wanted to take it with her, and because she couldn't imagine staying any longer than was necessary.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Have you brought any more cookie recipes with you?" Edgar poked his head into the restaurant kitchen where Marianna worked.

  Marianna put down the measuring cup, trying to remember if she'd counted off three or four cups. She decided it had only been three, then turned to him, forcing a smile.

  "I did." She lifted an eyebrow and placed a hand on her hip.

  "Really what kind?"

  Marianna took a deep breath. "I won't tell you until you're ready to try it—it's a surprise."

  "Surprise? You're gonna make me wait?" Edgar grumbled and then waved a hand in her direction. "See if I do any favors for you."

  He acted as if he were mad as he stomped back to the front register, but she could make out the smile he was trying very hard to hide.

  Marianna turned back to her recipe, hurrying to the refrigerator for eggs. She finished mixing the batch of peanut butter cookies and then stuck them into the oven. Annie had gone to Kalispell to get more supplies, and Marianna knew she would be back soon.

  "Better get this place cleaned up." How had she managed to make such a mess? She scrubbed the whole kitchen and pulled out the first batch of cookies, sliding the cookie sheet onto the top of the cooling tray, just in case Edgar thought of peeking. She put another batch into the oven and then noticed the floors were the last thing that needed to be clean.

  Picking up the floor mats, she took them outside to sweep them off. As she exited the door her shoulder bumped into someone who was opening the door to enter.

  "I'm so sorry." Marianna took a step back, nearly dropping the mats. Ben stood there, his face only inches from hers.

  "Am I in your way?" He hopped down from the porch and it was then she realized the back steps were gone. Somehow he'd managed to dismantle them while she'd been busy at work in the kitchen.

  "No, I just had to sweep these off." She plopped the mats on the porch and stepped back inside for the broom. A twinge of excitement at seeing him shot up her elbows and she ignored it. He was just a guy—someone she could count on as a friend and nothing more.

  Ben used his tape measure to measure the back porch. Then he walked over to a long piece of lumber, using a pencil to mark it off.

  "Building new steps?" she asked, even though it was obvious he was.

  "Yep. Annie was worried about Edgar going up and down the old ones. These steps will be wider, with a nice handrail. I told her I'd do it in exchange for some of your cookies. Those oatmeal ones are my favorite. I bought out all she had left that night after the concert."

  "That's kind of you." Her broom brushed over the mat at half the speed she usually swept, and her eyes were fixed on Ben's. "I've been meaning to tell you how much I liked your music. It was very moving."

  He glanced up at her and then his lips tipped up in a smile. "I could tell you liked it, and seeing that was even better than the cookies."

  "Do you have any more concerts coming up?"

  "Not unless you count Megan Carash's tenth birthday party. She requested Disney tunes." He chuckled, but Marianna just eyed him.

  "Not familiar with those I suppose," he stated.

  She laughed. "No, not really."

  They worked side-by-side for a few minutes, and neither said a word. Then she opened her mouth, getting up the nerve to tell him something she'd been thinking about since she first heard him play. "It doesn't seem like you fit here. You're a good musician. Shouldn't you go someplace else where there are more people who can listen to your music? Then you could just do that, and you won't have to work making deliveries and building porches on the back of country stores."

  "Is my music any less special if one person hears it?" Ben straightened and tucked his pencil behind his ear.

  The question surprised her. "What?"

  "I used to perform in large concerts with my high school band. Yes, I have to admit it's a good feeling when I played and would scan the large crowd and realized all those eyes were fixed on me. But there's just something different about playing in the restaurant—or smaller gatherings. It's not a crowd I'm playing for, but friends—old ones and ones I'd just met. And when I see their smiles, I really get to see them. I can also see the happiness in their eyes. It's not the roar of a crowd on their feet when I'm finished, but I can feel the pleasure of those I'm playing for. And in a strange way it gives me a glimpse of what God must think."

  Marianna paused her sweeping and leaned forward against her broom. Being here, talking with Ben, the uneasiness of the last few months seemed to vaporize just like morning dew on mountain meadows. "What do you mean?"

  "Well, He's God. And there are a lot of people in this world who think He's a pretty cool guy. There are people from your community who love Him in a quiet, reverent way. There are others who are more bold and vocal about their faith. But I have a notion what makes Him feel special isn't just the fact that all those people think He's great. But rather when you or I are praying, and thinking about Him or singing to Him or thanking Him for his mountains and trees, that He takes joy in the intimacy of the moment. It's that personal connection, I bet, that brightens His day."

  Marianna felt both drawn to the words Ben was saying and uncomfortable about them. In all the years she'd gone to church and lived in her community, she'd never met someone who talked about God like He was right there, caring about the events of her day. She'd never thought about a God who would make a sunrise to please her for that moment. Or bring her a wiggling, active dog to make her smile.

  She placed a hand to her throat and tried to imagine what the bishop would think of that. And, without warning, the face of another came to her mind. Levi. What would he think if he met Ben? Marianna was sure Levi would like him. She couldn't imagine her brother not being drawn to his outgoing personality and his smile. But what would Levi think to hear Ben talk about God like this? She knew when her brother left the community and refused to join the church, in his mind he was leaving God behind too. But did it have to be like that? Could you have one without the other? Ben seemed to prove one could.

  The door creaked behind her, and Marianna was pulled back to the realization that she was supposed to be sweeping out the mats. She looked down at the broom in her hands realizing it had stopped quite a while ago.

  "There is a beeper going off in the kitchen, and since I didn't put anything in the oven I supposed it's calling to you," Annie chirped.

  "Oh the cookies!" Marianna set the broom against the porch railing and hurried inside.

  As she approached the kitchen, the smell of burnt cookies told her that the timer had been going off for a while.

  "Oh no." She hurried to the oven and opened the door. A puff of dark smoke exited, and she grabbed an oven mitt and pulled them out.

  "Looks like an afternoon sacrifice to me." Annie chuckled. "Burnt to a crisp."

  "I am so sorry. I can't believe I put them in and just forgot. I'll buy more ingredients to replace—"

  "Marianna, whoa." Annie held up her hands. "It's just one batch of cookies. It's not the end of the world." Annie approached and placed a hand on Marianna's shoulders, giving it a squeeze. "I'll ei
ther have to get a louder timer or tell that Ben Stone to come inside if he wants to talk, so you won't get distracted." Annie winked.

  Marianna placed the cookie sheet on the cooling rack. Heat rose to her cheeks. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what's gotten over me. I can stay later to make up time we spent visiting too."

  "Marianna—" Annie's tone was sharp—"look at me."

  Marianna lifted her head and focused on Annie's green eyes.

  "I'm going to give you an order and I want you to follow it, you hear?"

  Marianna tucked a wayward stray of hair back under her kapp and nodded.

  "Stop trying so hard." Annie's tone softened. "This job is yours until you choose to leave. And if you choose to stay, it's still yours. Enjoy yourself. Relax. Take time to listen to the music. Play around in the kitchen with some recipes. If you spend fifteen minutes chatting with a friend, it's not the end of the world. I bought this store so I can service the people in the community. Sure they come for cookies and for groceries, but they'll come around just as often to visit for a spell. To tell us about their garden, and to just see how you're adjusting to life in the West Kootenai."

  Marianna nodded, and even though she could hear what Annie was saying, it didn't make sense. From the time she was small, she'd been trained how to work and how to do it efficiently and quickly. She learned not to be slothful or wasteful. She also knew that anywhere at any time others watched. From as long as she could remember, her mother rose at 4 a.m. every morning to get started on laundry. What a shame it would be to have neighbors passing by on their way to town to shop or to work and not have the laundry hung.

  "Yes, ma'am. I mean Annie," she said, wondering if God was sort of like that—wanting her to enjoy life instead of just trying to do everything right. It was a nice thought, but one she'd have to adjust her thinking to believe.

  With a forced grin, Marianna pulled the cookie sheet off the rack and moved to the trash can.

  It was just then that Edgar entered. He sniffed the air and then scowled as he looked at the burnt cookies on the tray.

  "If that's the new recipe, I'd go back to the old one," he huffed. "I like my chicken barbecued, but definitely not my sweets."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Marianna watched her mother move around the kitchen with both eagerness and efficiency. Her stomach stuck straight out, full and round. Mem smiled as she cooked dinner—Haystacks, which was one of Dat's favorites. Marianna was working on another of Dat's favorites, Betty's Salad. She didn't know which Betty came up with the recipe, or how long ago, but it was one of the first things she'd learned to make. The broccoli and cauliflower were already chopped up and next she worked on the bacon.

  "The kids enjoyed the day out. Tomorrow we're thinking about going down to Lake Koocanusa, just to skip rocks." Her mother hummed while she worked, which made Marianna feel better about her plans of leaving. Mem enjoyed it here. The kids did too. They were settling into their days without her since she worked.

  "Mem, it seems like you're settling in. Are you happy here?" Marianna asked, chopping the bacon into small bits.

  "I didn't think I would like it, but I have to admit I feel freer. There aren't so many eyes on me. And . . ." Mem's voice quieted. "The future doesn't seem so bound to the past here."

  Marianna nodded, wondering what Mem was going to say when she told her that past—that whole life—was what was driving her back. Back to Indiana.

  Just this morning she'd used the phone in the shed to make two calls. One to the train station to check on the price of a ticket in one month's time, and the other to Annie at the store. Annie was out for the day, but Marianna knew she could talk to her tomorrow.

  Yesterday at church she'd also talked to Hope and Eve Peachy, who agreed that between them they could cover every day of the week until Christmas to help Mem. They'd also stated a good price for their work. Now, if she could just get Annie to agree on buying her quilt, to pay for the help, everything would be worked out. Then, three weeks after the baby was born, and Mem was back on her feet, she'd be free to return to Indiana.

  Trapper scratched at the door, wanting to go out for a walk, and Marianna sighed. "After dinner, I promise."

  "Mari, why don't you go ahead now. The kids are occupied, and I'm almost finished over here. Jest leave that and I'll finish it up. Dinner will be ready in an hour. You should get out and enjoy yourself. You've been working awfully hard lately."

  Marianna looked to her, unsure if she'd just heard her mother correctly. Still, she wasn't about to argue. She set out behind the house with Trapper by her side. He enjoyed long walks up and down the road, and sometimes in the forest, but he wouldn't go unless she was with him. It was if he were afraid to turn around and find her gone.

  An uneasiness settled over her chest . . . How would Trapper take it when she returned back to Indiana? She glanced at him, noticing the way he pranced beside her, blissfully unaware of the change to come. Her lip quivered, and she pushed those thoughts out of her mind. She didn't need to think about that now. This day held enough worries of its own.

  The air was cool in the forest. The wind whispered through the pines, and Marianna moved on, farther into the woods than she usually went.

  The dog trotted beside her, prancing as if they were on a grand adventure. Up ahead she spotted a small tree that had been gnawed off six inches above the ground. And then ten feet beyond that, another tree.

  For the briefest moment she considered turning around and getting the young ones to join her, but the quiet of the afternoon did something to her soul. It soothed her. And even though she was alone, she felt a strange feeling someone was with her. Not in a scary way, but perhaps that God was looking down from above, happy that she was enjoying His creation. She smiled, thinking Ben would like that thought.

  The ground was damp. Layers of dead pine needles and aspen leaves covered the earth, making a soft carpet. The air smelled damp, too, and alive. Birds sang, happily enjoying the sun's rays that arched over the mountains, falling upon the trees, and drenching them like golden rain.

  "Look, more chewed-off trees. There has to be a beaver dam near."

  Trapper wagged his tail in agreement. In her mind's eye she pictured the busy beaver gnawing on the tree, watching it fall, and then clamping down his teeth and carrying it through the woods over and around varied obstacles. The enormity of that task both overwhelmed her and also caused her to marvel at how nature had been created to care for and nurture its own in such unique ways. The ground rose in front of her, cresting to a small hill. Marianna hurried up it, and Trapper barked in excitement as if also anticipating what was on the other side.

  Marianna neared the top but then paused. Her heart was pounding and she didn't understand why. It wasn't because of the exercise. This place was less than a quarter mile behind her house. There was a hint of excitement, but there was something more. A deep knowing. A feeling that she'd been here before. A returning to a special place, but that made no sense. She'd never traveled back this far in these woods. She'd never seen . . .

  Then, like a fuzzy memory filtering into her mind, Marianna remembered the recurring dream. The special place had come to her many times. The dream of still water. The man's voice calling her. Drawing her.

  Marianna placed a hand over her heart. She could feel its wild beating and wondered if she was going crazy. Maybe there would be just a forest on the other side of the hill. More trees?

  "I suppose there is one way to find out." She patted her leg as a signal to Trapper and continued on.

  It was the scent of water that greeted her as she crested the hill. And then the glimmer of light on the forest floor. Laughter bounced from her lips as she spotted a worn trail just to the left of her. The trail was one the beavers used when they dragged the trees to their pond.

  And there, on the south end of the pond was their lodge.

  "Look, Trapper!" A joy filled her that she couldn't explain. It wasn't just the lodge that made her so h
appy, but she had a feeling this place had been created in part for her—that she'd been drawn here.

  She walked closer and saw the lodge was much larger than she anticipated. A squirrel raced up a nearby tree, causing her to laugh again and as she did, tears rimmed her eyes.

  Her hands pressed to her face, and she didn't attempt to hold the tears in. It was a beautiful place. Not the same beauty as a pasture dotted with colorful wildflowers. Not the same designed loveliness as rows of cornstalks waving in the wind. Instead, it was an untamed place that reflected a peace she didn't realize she'd been missing until now.

  Her heart grew warm. Her throat tightened up and thickened with emotion. She swallowed it down, while at the same time lifting her head to the sky and wondering how she could have dreamt of a place she'd never been to?

  It was foolishness she knew—or was it? She thought about Ben's words.

  "I thought I'd come for a summer job, but then when I got here, I knew I couldn't leave. How can I not believe there is a God who is caring, artistic, and a bit on the wild side when I look at mountains like that."

  She bit her lip, remembering how she'd hardly heeded Ben's words. Now she felt the same sense of awe with a bit of perplexity.

  Why her? Out of all the people in the world to get to experience a place like this, why them? Why her family? Ike had been instrumental at telling them about Montana, but they were the ones who set out. Just as she grew up feeling special that she'd been blessed to be born into an Amish home—to be told and warned of the outside world—she also felt that she'd been given this gift.

  Marianna neared a fallen log and sat upon it, feeling the dampness seeping through her skirt. Movement from the water caught her attention, and she looked to see that two ducks had landed on the surface, and gliding across the water, appreciating the fact they had the whole pond to themselves. Even though she couldn't see their legs, she knew their feet paddled with intensity. And even though she couldn't see the beavers inside the lodge, she knew they were there. Safe, warm, protected. A smile touched her lips.