Along Wooded Paths Page 22

  Marianna moved to the kitchen, opening jars of church spread, which was a combination of peanut butter and marshmallow cream. Other women set out knives, cups, and water. Some sliced thick pieces of bread.

  Sarah came to stand next to her and helped open jars of red beets and pickles.

  “I liked your dat’s sermon very much.”

  “Thank you. He only desires to serve.”

  “What he said is true about us loving those in the community. We have much to be thankful for. The way they’ve helped us. The way they point us to God. I bet your dat would like the prayer meeting too.”

  Marianna noticed Mrs. Peachy approach and cleared her throat. “So, Sarah, do you work tomorrow?”

  “Ja.” Sarah followed her lead and changed the subject. “I do work, so I’ll see you there . . . and maybe in the evening too.”

  Marianna knew what she was asking. Sarah wanted her to attend that prayer meeting. Tension built inside Marianna, but she knew the answer she wanted to give. “Ja. Maybe you can come stay the night over. We can do some baking.”

  Sarah nodded. “I’d like that.”

  Marianna didn’t have time to talk to Sarah about the details before her Uncle Ike approached. “Marianna, can I talk to you?”

  His brow was furrowed. His eyes flashed deep concern.

  “Ja, of course.” She looked around, but there wasn’t anywhere they could go to be alone. Uncle Ike pointed upstairs and she followed him to Ellie’s room. A few toddlers played with Ellie’s toys in the corner. They’d never understand their Englisch words.

  “I hear that you were talking all about Aaron yesterday at the quilt circle. That you’re considering returning to Indiana with him.”

  She cocked her chin. “News travels fast, but yes . . . I suppose that is no surprise.”

  “What about Ben?” Uncle Ike stroked his beard. “Do you not care for him?”

  “Ben? When did you become concerned with Ben? Wasn’t it just a few weeks ago that you came by my work and brought me home to visit with Aaron?”

  “Ja, ja but that was before I understood the depth of Ben’s feelings. He’s spoken to me about you.”

  Marianna shook her head. “Uncle, to have a relationship with Ben would be to leave the Amish. You would not wish for that.”

  She waited for him to agree with her.

  Instead, her Uncle Ike glanced out the window. “I know Ben’s love for God. He is a good man. He would be a gut spiritual leader.”

  “And Aaron . . . are you saying he wouldn’t?”

  Uncle Ike sighed. “Aaron is a good Amish man. There is a difference.”

  “Marianna!” Mem’s voice called up the stairs. “Are you up there? I need your help. Can you come watch Joy? I need both hands for this food.”

  She walked to the doorway and called down to Mem. “Ja, I’ll be right down. Just checking on the toddlers up here.”

  “Denke.”

  Marianna turned back to her uncle.

  “I know what I want. Who I want. I know the type of life I want to lead. I’m not sure why you doubt that.”

  Uncle Ike didn’t respond, but she could tell from the way he crossed his arms over his chest that he didn’t agree.

  She hurried downstairs, but thought she heard him saying something after her. She wasn’t sure, but she thought his words were, “I will pray for your soul . . .”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  No matter how many times he played, a little buzz of nervous energy echoed in Ben’s chest as he approached the mic.

  Tonight was no different.

  The venue was half coffeehouse, half bookstore. The place was twice as big as the restaurant area of the Kootenai Kraft and Grocery. It didn’t seem like it, though, once the people filed in, packing the house. They dressed in designer clothes—men with $5,000 watches and women with rings worth ten times that.

  Whitefish, Montana, was only sixty miles from West Kootenai, but it was a world apart.

  Most people came to Whitefish to get away, but they didn’t do too well at that. They bought second homes with the same luxuries as they’d left in places like L.A., Atlanta, and New York. Roy had mentioned having connections, but Ben hadn’t expected anything like this. If someone in this crowd liked Ben and his songs, they could no doubt get on the phone, make a few calls, and he’d be on a jet plane to Nashville or Los Angeles by tomorrow night.

  Ben approached the stool and leaned in to the mic. “Thank you so much for being here. Tonight I’m going to share some songs I wrote. I’ve lived north of here for a couple years now, and I don’t know about you, but this place inspires me.”

  Whispered approval and acknowledgment carried through the crowd.

  “The first song”—a quiver in his voice brought him pause—as did memories of his performances in Los Angeles. He’d gotten wrapped up in the fame, and in women. It was hard to believe that had been his life, but he wasn’t like that now.

  This time it would be different.

  “This first song came about after I spent the day chopping wood for a family. I thought about the simple things in life, the things that matter most. About the good ache after a hard day’s work. A cup of hot coffee after coming in from the cold. The sight of a loving smile.” Marianna’s face filled his mind. “And wanting to share my cabin with someone.”

  Ben started the refrain on his guitar. The voices of the crowd quieted even more and he began.

  “Got my cabin deep in the woods

  But need somethin’ more to call it all good

  To fill the aching hole in my life—

  Cuz every warm cabin

  Needs a good wife . . .”

  He finished the song, and for a moment the room was silent. Then applause filled the room. He glanced around and noticed tears in the women’s eyes. A few folks had their cell phones out to take photos of him. He noticed some guys approaching Roy in the back. Roy nodded and gave Ben a thumbs-up.

  Ben smiled as he settled into his stool even more. He started the next song—one of his old ones that he and Roy had reworked. The room stilled. He started singing about not realizing he’d seen love until he saw it through the rearview mirror and realizing it was too late. He sang with emotion, passion—and could see how the crowd was awed, moved.

  He should have been ecstatic. But . . .

  He was doing exactly what the song said. Leaving love.

  Just as he was about to start his third song, Ben scanned the crowd and stopped short on the beautiful woman standing near the back. Carrie offered him a slight smile and wave. He could read an apology in her gaze. He guessed she was here because her father had told her about Marianna—and Ben’s decision not to pursue her any longer.

  The songs flowed from his lips and between each one he talked about going into the woods, talking to God, and discovering life in new ways. Roy was right, the crowd loved it. They all stayed until the last song, then, when he was done, gave him a standing ovation.

  Ben smiled and shook hands, and then put his guitar away. He was introduced around—to important people—but in the back of his mind all he could think about was Marianna.

  What was she doing? Would she bake cinnamon rolls in the morning? Did she think about their last time together as often as he did? Did she remember the feeling of his arms around her as clear as he remembered her settling into his embrace?

  When almost everyone else had cleared out, Carrie wrapped her arms around him. “I’m so proud of you. That was fantastic.”

  “Yeah, it was a good night.” He stepped back from her hug.

  “What’s wrong?” Carrie’s eyes searched his face.

  “Just tired I suppose.”

  “You staying at my dad’s tonight?”

  Ben nodded, but he took another step back. He didn’t want her to get the wrong idea. He wasn’t pursuing Mari, but he wasn’t pursuing anyone else, either.

  “Great.” Carrie threaded her arm through Ben’s and squeezed. “I’ve been practicing and I
can make some great French toast.”

  The wheels of the buggy squeaked against the snow. It was the only sound in the night. Marianna held her breath, hoping that the sound of the horse and buggy hadn’t woken Dat. She couldn’t believe they were doing this—sneaking out to go to a prayer meeting.

  When Sarah arrived earlier with her ankle bandaged up from a fall on the ice, taking the buggy to the prayer meeting had been their only choice.

  Marianna considered staying home, but something inside told her to go. She needed prayer. She needed the peace of God. She needed the support of others. And so, thirty minutes after everyone had headed for bed, she and Sarah snuck out to the barn, hooked up the buggy, and headed out.

  They crested the hill and a ways down the road she saw the Carashes’ house. At least a dozen cars and a few buggies were parked outside. When they neared, Mr. Shelter was waiting.

  “Hello, Marianna, welcome. Why don’t you and Sarah get inside. I’ll take care of the buggy for you.”

  “Denke.” Marianna handed him the reins. She climbed down and took in a deep breath, holding it as she entered. She’d eyed the vehicles as they approached and hadn’t seen Ben’s truck, but as she walked though the front door she couldn’t help letting her eyes scan the room, just in case.

  Ben wasn’t there.

  Many people greeted her. Most she knew from the store. All of them smiled and told her and Sarah they were glad they were there. They chatted for a while before Mr. Carash asked them to find a seat. Marianna moved to a chair in a far back corner. Sarah joined her.

  “Thank you for coming. For those of you who are new here, we don’t have a schedule we follow. Every week we just come together and pray. Sometimes we share requests and take turns praying for each other. Tonight—with Thanksgiving so close—I wanted us to pray silently, thanking God for what He’s done in our lives. In a little while I’ll close us in prayer. At that time if you want to join in and pray a word of Thanksgiving out loud, feel free to do so.”

  Marianna watched as everyone lowered their heads, and she did the same. So far, this wasn’t much different from the Amish silent prayer. As she sat there, she thanked God for her family. For keeping Aaron safe in that accident. For being raised by parents who loved each other and loved their children. For making her able to work and help others. She also thanked God for Ben’s purpose in pointing her to God, and she prayed that God would be with Ben wherever he was.

  After a while Mr. Carash prayed out loud. “Thank You, Lord, for those in this room. I thank You that we are allowed to meet together in prayer. I thank You that we know of Your ways and Your love and we don’t have to try to walk through life without You.”

  When his words stilled, other voices around the room spoke up.

  “Thank You that we live in such a beautiful place.”

  “Thank You for our need for each other.”

  “Thank You for Your Word.”

  “Thank You for warmth on cold days.”

  Sarah reached over and took Marianna’s hand in hers. Marianna nearly jumped, and she realized she’d almost forgotten she was in this room. For a moment it felt as if her heart at been carried close to God in heaven. She didn’t know what to think of that, but she knew she’d never felt so close to Him. The more prayers of thanksgiving she heard, the more her heart joyfully agreed.

  “Thank You for seeking hearts,” Sarah said.

  Marianna nodded, and even though she didn’t speak it out loud, her heart had a specific prayer too.

  Thank You for showing me that when I seek You, I always discover more.

  When they’d left her house earlier, Marianna had looked behind to make sure no one woke. Now, as they drove the buggy back, with Silver’s coat reflecting in the moonlight, she hoped that still was the case.

  Peace filled Marianna’s heart. She’d enjoyed gathering with the other believers, getting to know them better, and lifting up their voices together. At first she’d worried that she’d feel uncomfortable or that they’d want her to pray out loud, too. Instead, the more everyone prayed, the more her heart longed to join them. If she kept attending, she might just pray out loud one of these days.

  Marianna held her breath as their house came into view, and the quiet earth seemed to be holding its breath too. Above the topless buggy the stars hung like lamps under a dark barn roof. It was beautiful.

  Movement caught her attention. A fox darted across the road. Seeing it, Sarah let out a cry, and Marianna noticed Silver’s ears perk. Before she knew what to do, the horse reared his head, pulling the reins out of her hands.

  “Whoa, whoa, Silver!” It was no use. There was no way to stop the animal.

  But instead of running down the road, Silver set his sights on the barn. The only problem was—there was a forest between where they were and where the barn stood.

  “Silver, no!”

  The horse raced through the trees. Marianna grasped the side of the buggy, holding on for dear life. Sarah’s hands tightened around Marianna’s arm, another squeal escaping her lips. The buggy rumbled over the forest floor. Silver’s hooves trampled brush. The buggy bounced as it bounded over logs and rocks covered in snow.

  The world was a blur around her, and then Marianna’s eyes widened. Up ahead, behind the house, were two trees. The space between then was wide enough for the horse—but not the buggy.

  “Whoa, Silver!”

  Her cry went unheeded. Silver raced through the trees and the buggy hit hard. Even though the buggy stopped, the horse’s motion pulled the traces tight. A crack sounded and the single tree, where the traces were attached to the buggy, snapped. Marianna’s eyes widened as the horse ran out from the shafts. The broken piece of single tree trailed after the horse—and she thought she’d be sick. It was broken.

  She broke Dat’s buggy.

  Even in the dim light she saw something else trailing the horse—the harness. It dangled behind the horse, whipping through the air. The horse raced into the darkness and a new fear gripped her. What if Silver never came back?

  How would she explain—sneaking out, losing the horse, breaking the buggy? Tears filled her eyes and the movement of Sarah on the seat beside her reminded her that at least they were safe, uninjured.

  She let out a breath. “You okay?”

  “Ja. You?”

  Marianna looked down at her trembling hands. At least she was in one piece. It could have been worse. Would Dat understand?

  Marianna looked to the house, expecting lantern light. She thought she saw movement in a downstairs window and leaned forward to get a better view. Before she could grasp a handhold, Marianna tumbled forward, falling into the snow. She gasped for breath as her face hit the snow. Then she heard it. Laughter bubbled from Sarah’s lips, filling the air.

  Marianna pushed up to her hands and knees. She tried to stand in the soft snow, but one foot sank to her knee, then the other.

  They were just behind the house. “Quiet, shh . . .” Marianna hissed.

  Hearing that make Sarah laugh harder. She climbed down from the buggy and tried to stand but sank into the snow.

  “The horse?” Marianna looked around. She’d heard rumors. Horses were known to run away never to be found. The harsh terrain—and the predators—saw to that. Marianna brushed the snow from her face and bonnet. “Did he run away?” She pictured Dat’s anger.

  “Look, Silver circled around. He’s over by the barn.” Sarah panted and pointed. “He wants to be let in.” She shook her head and looked at Marianna. “You should see us. We look like elves! We are short, stuck . . .” Her laughter sounded again.

  The cold began to seep through Marianna’s shoes and stockings, and she didn’t think it was funny at all. It was bad enough she’d taken the buggy without permission, but to take it so she could attend an Englisch prayer meeting? Dat may understand, but Mem wouldn’t.

  Not ever.

  “What are we going to do now?” Marianna climbed out of the hole, inching across the snow on he
r hands and knees.

  “Put the horse away and get out of the cold, ja?” Sarah crawled behind her.

  “And the buggy?”

  “It’ll be here tomorrow, I can guarantee that. Just make something extra good for breakfast. You’ll need to beg for your dat’s forgiveness.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  The first rays of pink dawn stretched over the mountains. Marianna hurried outside, hoping to beat Dat to the barn, to figure out how bad off things were—and how to confess.

  She hated to consider what he would say when he knew what she’d done. Not only did she sneak out to an Englisch prayer meeting, but she’d wrecked something that cost a lot. Even worse, she’d put her life and Sarah’s in danger. She’d been foolish, but she still didn’t regret going.

  Even after the accident, the peace from the prayer meeting had remained. It was a miracle.

  She hurried into the barn, taking in the scent of leather, hay, and wood. But then her feet stopped short. There, walking into the barn ahead of her, was Aaron.

  She stared. “What are you doing?”

  He lifted up the broken harness. “Isn’t it obvious? Fixing a buggy.” He pointed to the broken single tree. “I found some spare parts in the shed. The new single tree is already on the buggy. If you give me a few hours, I can have this harness fixed too.” He cocked an eyebrow. “I can fix it, but you’ll need the help of your dat and a few other men to get it unstuck.”

  “You can fix it all?” She still couldn’t believe what he was saying—and that he’d be so kind to help her. Still . . . “What are you doing out of the house? How did you even know?”

  Aaron brushed his blond bangs back from his face. “I knew because I heard you and your friend—Sarah, is it?—leave last night. I’m not sure what you were up to, but for all the noise you made I’m surprised you didn’t wake the whole house.”