Along Wooded Paths (5 page)

She moved to the dining room area to warm her hands by the fire, and discovered Millie’d moved from the kitchen area and now sat in the wooden booth next to Jebadiah Beiler. Millie’s red lips made an
O
shape and wrinkles extended out from her mouth, splayed like cracks in weathered paint. Her eyebrows lowered in two straight lines and her concerned eyes were fixed on Jebadiah.

“The van must’ve been taking the corner too fast.” She pointed to the copy of
The Daily Interlake,
the newspaper spread on the table before him. “Did ya read an Amish man was the passenger and he’s up in the hospital in Kalispell?”

“
Ja
, I can’t say I know of anyone missing.” Jebadiah looked toward his bushy eyebrows as if doing a mental count. Leaning forward, arms on the table, he stroked his beard, which reached the second button on his simple blue shirt. “Maybe they’re mistaken. Coulda been someone dressed plain.”

“Or maybe someone coming for a visit.” Millie’s voice and mannerisms were fit for a chow line. A rancher’s wife all her life, her face was as weathered as the leather saddlebag hanging on the dining room wall. But Marianna had discovered Millie’s interior wasn’t nearly as tough. Weeks ago the older woman had bought two sacks of groceries and loaded them in the back seat of Jenny Avery’s compact car while the young mom shared a bowl of soup with her four-year-old daughter, Kenzie. Jenny had asked around, but no one spilled the beans. Millie even tucked a hundred-dollar bill into a box of Pop Tarts, Marianna later heard.

Marianna grabbed up the carafe of fresh coffee to top off her customers’ mugs and to get a glimpse of the photo in the newspaper. Her heartbeat always quickened at any news of a vehicle accident, whether buggy or automobile. Her two sisters had died in such an accident on the very night she was born, when a semitruck hit their buggy. Even though she’d never met Marilyn and Joanna, the fast falling snow reminded her of their loss. No sooner had she swept off a layer of pain over heart, than another layer fell. What muddy footprints hid underneath the thin covering of protection she’d built around her soul?

All those years she spent always trying to be the perfect Amish girl to make up for her sisters’ loss. . . . All that changed when her family moved to Montana. Here she discovered maybe God had a plan for
her
alone.

“Heard that passenger got his leg broke real bad.” This from Howard Anderson, who sat across the dining room. “My wife Annabelle called down to check on him. It’s a young man from Indiana come to Montana for a visit. Goes by the name of Aaron Zook.”

“Aaron?” The whispered name escaped Marianna’s lips. There could be another Aaron Zook, but she knew it wasn’t. It was her Aaron—the man she’d always thought she’d marry.

“Whoa there!” Millie’s voice split the air, and Marianna looked down. Hot coffee poured over the mug and onto the table.

“I’m so sorry.” Marianna set the carafe on the table and grabbed up her apron, wiping the spill. “It didn’t get on you, did it?”

“No, just soggied up my napkin.” Millie chuckled. “I’m still a bit chilled from the elements, but I wasn’t wanting to get warmed up that way.”

“I’m so sorry.” Marianna hurried to the kitchen for a soapy towel. Her hands trembled as she plunged them into the sink. The hot water stung, but she barely noticed as she rung the washcloth out. Her chest tightened, as if someone had poured concrete into her lungs. Months ago she hadn’t wanted to leave Aaron, and now?

She felt trapped.

She hurried back and wiped up the table. Should she call home and ask her parents if they knew about Aaron being here? Would they answer the phone? Should she talk to Annie, who worked on the schedule in the back office, and ask for the day off? To trudge back home. To discover what Aaron’s being here meant. Why he hadn’t told her he was coming? He wouldn’t just show up without an invitation. He would have written a letter . . .

Mem.

The heaviness on her chest increased. She pulled back her shoulders, sucking in a breath.

Ever since Marianna got off the train and returned to West Kootenai, Mem had acted strange. When Marianna entered the front door a month ago, she’d expected her mother to cry tears of joy. That wasn’t the case.

Mem expressed concern when Marianna left a quilt for Ben. Then, when she’d walked back in the door with Ben at her side, one would have thought from Mem’s reaction that Marianna stopped at a chapel on the way home and married the Englischman! It was later, in the month following, when Marianna had little contact with Ben, that Mem had seemed less worried. But only slightly.

Had Mem brought Aaron here for a surprise visit to ensure her heart didn’t stray toward the Englischman?

Marianna swallowed hard and returned to the kitchen. She pulled the dishtowel off the bread dough. It had doubled in size. Just to make sure it was ready, she poked her index finger into the dough. Mem had showed her the trick. If the hole she made stayed in the dough without filling in, the dough was ready to punch down. But if the hole closed—even a little—the dough wasn’t ready and needed more time to ferment. If the dough collapsed—which had happened to her more than once—it had risen too long and would not rise again.

This dough was perfect. Her fist punched it down, gently pushing her knuckles into the center of the dough. Then she pulled the edge of the dough toward the center, punching it down again. Satisfied, she turned it over, giving it time to rest.

Mem
had
been acting peculiar. She’d been talking a lot, asking Marianna about every aspect of her work. She’d commented how nice it would be for Marianna to have her own home and family some day and not have to brave the cold, watching her footing on winter’s icy paths.

Mem had also cleaned the house from top to bottom.

How could she do it? How could Mem invite Aaron here without telling her?

The bell on the front door jingled. Marianna washed her hands and then hurried out to greet the customer. Edgar had called in sick, and it was the other Amish girl, Sarah’s, day off. Annie, the owner, would come out to help if Marianna needed, but maybe being busy would keep her mind off the fact that Aaron Zook lay in a hospital bed just an hour’s drive away by automobile.

An Amish man entered, his head lowered as he brushed snow from his hat. When he lifted his face, she recognized Dat, looking more tired, more stooped then she’d seen in a while.

Dat’s eyes drifted toward her. His face molded into the same look she witnessed the night Levi left. Her father offered her a blank stare that gave evidence of rejection, disbelief.

Marianna dried her hands on her already damp apron and then stepped toward him, trying to control quivering hands. Keeping her breathing even.

“Is it true that Aaron’s here? That he got in an accident and he’s in the hospital?”

“Yes, and no.” Dat’s words were slow and heavy, like the large icicles hanging from the porch outside. “He did get in an accident, but he’s not in the hospital.” Dat removed his hat from his head, brushing it. He repeated the motion of a moment ago even though snow was no longer on the rim. “They released him this morning. He’s back at our house.”

“But what is he doing here? Why didn’t you tell me he was coming?”

“I didn’t know. It was Ruth.” The way her father said her mother’s name told Marianna the sting of betrayal pierced him too. “Mrs. Zook sent a letter to your mother. She returned one, sending an invitation for Aaron to come. Mem thought it would be a nice surprise for you since you didn’t go back.”

She could tell from his tone that there was more to it than Mem wanting to give her a “nice surprise.” She lowered her voice and stepped toward him. “Mem had no right to do this. To assume—”

Dat placed a hand on Marianna’s shoulder. This type of touch was rare, but it spoke volumes.
This is how things are,
the look in his eyes stated.
We’ll not mention it again
.

Two years ago she would have let the matter drop. Even six months ago she would have done the same. But now? Marianna balled her fists at her side. She wouldn’t be able to hold the words in if she tried. Maybe, as those back in Indiana believed, she’d already been corrupted by the Englisch ways.

Dat studied her, frustration reflecting in his gray eyes.

Her words poured out. “I can read it in your eyes, Dat.” She tried to keep her tone respectful. A heavy weariness came upon her, surprising her. “But we both know that’s not the truth. She didn’t want him here for a surprise. She—she’s worried about me. Worried I’m not going to carry through with my plans to marry Aaron.” Marianna clenched her fists then slowly released them. Her mother did what any Amish mother who’d already lost three children would do. Marianna cleared her throat. “Like I’ve told you before, Ben’s a good friend. Nothing more.”

Even as he nodded, she could see her father didn’t believe her. Dat rubbed the back of his hand against his forehead, as if wiping away a memory. Maybe the memory of her and Ben in this very room. He in his Englisch clothes, she in Amish dress. Her with his guitar in his hands, and him—with his arms around her. His cheek close. Her body resting against his. She guessed that’s what Dat thought about.

Maybe because the memory always hung in front of her, like frozen breath on the air.

It was a memory she’d have to pluck from the surface of her heart and plunge deeper inside. She had Aaron to think of now. He needed her. And a good Amish girl never turned her back on a friend.

CHAPTER SIX

Dat had only to explain the situation and Annie gave Marianna the day off. She and Dat walked home through the snow. The exertion of wading through the calf-high drifts kept her warm, but neither spoke. Disbelief sealed her lips, and Dat’s far-off gaze held a hint of betrayal. His own wife had lied to him. Not by words, but by silence.

Arriving at home thirty minutes later, Marianna stepped through the front door. Her scraggly dog Trapper greeted her first, jumping against her leg. His tail wagged as quick as the beating of hummingbird wings. She patted his head, enough to satisfy him, and then her eyes fell on Aaron. He partly sat, partly lay on the sofa. Three pillows supported his leg, casted to mid-thigh.

Charlie sat on a cushion on the floor, his own leg bandaged. It had been nearly a month and a half since his accident, and the burn was healing. The doctor asked Mem to keep him home from school for at least another month. The other two boys were at school and the baby napped in her cradle near the woodstove. Ellie was nowhere to be seen, and Marianna assumed the young girl was upstairs. Charlie’s eyes fixed on Aaron, a look of camaraderie between them.

Aaron wore no hat and the glow of the fireplace radiated off his blond hair, which looked silky smooth and fell across his forehead in straight bangs. Her heart did a double beat—something she hadn’t expected.

His eyes fixed on her and his lips curled into a close-lipped smile. Then his lips parted. “Surprise, Marianna. Although this wasn’t how I imagined things.”

In an instant the angst over him being here vanished. It was Aaron. Even if she didn’t have the same strong, romantic feelings she once had for him, he was her friend. They’d attended school together since the first year. He’d put frogs in her lunch pail. She’d tied his shoelaces together under the porch as he sat and chatted with friends. Even now a giggle threatened to bubble up as she remembered the look on his face when he stood only to tumble.

“Well, you always have been clumsy.” She removed her gloves, unbuttoned her heavy wool coat and hung it, then placed a hand on her hip. Then, all joking aside, she moved toward him, her smile fading. “So what happened? I heard at the store it was some type of automobile accident.”

“
Ja
. It happened so fast.” He shook his head. “I bet when my letter finally reaches my mother she’ll smile and nod.”

“That you’re hurt?”

“No. She just likes to point out how many more car accidents there are compared to buggy. She always complains when she needs to ride in an automobile to town. The buggy accidents just make the news more because folks get hurt worse—”

Aaron’s eyes widened and he looked to Dat, as if realizing what he’d just said. But her father paid no attention. Instead, as he removed his hat and coat, Dat’s eyes were fixed on his wife.

“’Tis a dangerous time of year to be traveling these roads.” Dat hung up his coat, then sat on the chair next to Mem. His hand reached over and took hers. “If I woulda known Aaron was coming I would have picked a driver I trust. Ben Stone—he’s a good driver. Would’ve got Aaron here in one piece.”

Mem’s upper lip flinched, but she said nothing.

Hearing Ben’s name, heat rose to Marianna’s cheeks. She hoped Aaron didn’t notice.

“Of course, nothin’ we can do about that now.” Marianna sighed and then turned to Aaron. “What’s done is done and we have to get you on the mend. How did it break? How long did that doctor say you must be in that cast?”

“My leg is broken right above the knee. They put in a plate and screws.”

Marianna could tell his energy was fading fast.