Along Wooded Paths (24 page)

“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.

Maybe Carrie wouldn’t tell.

Marianna didn’t notice she was humming until she looked up from folding a pile of Joy’s diapers and saw Mem’s, Dat’s, and Aaron’s eyes on her.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize . . .” She lowered her head and went back to work.

“The store plays music.” Mem spoke to Aaron, her voice hinting of apology. “It’s not like she has a choice.”

Marianna didn’t tell Mem that it wasn’t in the store, but in Ben’s truck that she’d heard the song. And as they rode home together, and she listened to the music, she couldn’t help but wonder what
her
song was like—the one Carrie claimed Ben wrote about her.

After their visit to the library, they’d returned to the clinic where they found out the doctor had determined Jenny’s wrist wasn’t broken. It just had a bad sprain. Still, he didn’t want Jenny to use it for a week at least. Because of that, Jenny asked to stay at her mom’s house in town. Thankfully her mom had agreed.

The ride home was peaceful—as if the interaction with Carrie at the library never happened. Even though Marianna wanted to ask Ben about his relationship with Carrie, Marianna talked about her grandparents instead. Both Dat and Mem were close to the youngest in their families, and her grandparents on both sides had died long ago. Aunt Ida was the closest relative, and Marianna considered her relationship with Aunt Ida as what one with a grandmother would be like.

He’d also asked about
demut
—humility. That was such a deeply rooted value for the Amish. . . . She’d done her best to explain. Yet even as they spoke, Marianna could tell that wasn’t what he wanted to talk about. Had he wanted to talk about Carrie? Had he wanted to explain? Or what about the song? If only she’d had the nerve to prod him about that.

“Marianna, did Dat tell you I got a letter from Levi today?”

Charlie’s voice interrupted her thoughts and he approached with an envelope.

“Levi? Really? Can I read it?” She took the envelope from her brother’s hands, then looked at the three faces watching her. None of them seemed happy about the letter or thrilled about the fact she’d been excited about it. Should she have handed it back and pretended she wasn’t interested? That was far from the truth. She’d been waiting to hear from Levi, excited to discover what her older brother was up to.

Ignoring her parents and Aaron, she looked to Charlie. “Do you mind if I read it?”

Charlie shrugged. “No, go ahead.”

That was all the encouragement Mariana needed. She opened the envelope and pulled the letter out.

Dear Charlie,

Thank you so much for your note. I’m excited to hear that you’re doing better and will probably be going back to school soon. I’m sorry that you had to face such a long recovery, but I have no doubt, little brother, that when this is all over your leg will be as good as new.

I’m glad that you got bored and decided to write me a letter, but I’m not so happy that you’re worried about me, and worried that I might not go to heaven. I will tell you that I still believe in God even though I don’t want to live the Amish way. Being Amish isn’t what gets you there. Maybe ask Dat or Mem to talk to you about that.