Beside Still Waters (14 page)

"Tonight?" She glanced over to the sun that was halfway down the horizon. "But by the time we get there, it would be supper. I don't think so."

He went on as if not hearing her refusal. "It has a large kitchen and two bedrooms. The larger room is connected to the bathroom. And the view of the sunset . . ." He shrugged. "It's something to see."

She turned her attention from their audience in the window back to him, noticing how his cheeks were reddening. He was imagining them living together. Did he think about those things just as she did?

She bit her lip and tried to picture the place he was describing. The day brightened around them, and she smiled. To think he'd done that for her.

Marianna felt her neck grow warm. She tried to imagine the front porch. Wondered about the view from the kitchen window. Was there a nearby tree for shade? A garden spot?

She studied his face. How could someone care so much about her that he'd do such a thing? She had never felt so loved. Aaron's eyes held hers and she could tell his arms wanted to hold her, too.

But then she looked away. Lowered her gaze. To see the house would make her want to stay. And if she lost him, then she'd always think about what she could have had. It had to be better, not knowing. Not regretting. Pain tightened her gut. She had to say
nay.

The joy that had flooded her a moment before crashed and shattered into a million pieces like a glass vase hitting the floor. Reality told her to sweep up the pieces and move on.

"I would love to see it, but I don't think I'll have time today. We're leaving in the morning before dawn."

"Is that it?" His voice held a note of sharpness.

She glanced up at him and noticed pain mixed with anger in his gaze.

"Is what it, Aaron?"

"That's your excuse? I've been putting a lot of work into it, Marianna. Maybe you should act as if you care, even a little."

"I do care. I mean it's a nice gesture, but Aaron before this moment I truly didn't know your intentions. I mean, we haven't even had one date. I didn't want to presume—"

"That I was building it for you? Of
course
I am." His gaze narrowed. "And I can't believe you're going knowing that." He stepped forward. "I shouldn't be so bold. My dat always says patience is a virtue, but I can't help but picturing you going to Montana and meeting some other guy. My cousin told me there are many bachelors."

"I'm not interested in anyone else, Aaron—"

"Then stay."

She turned away from him and walked to the porch rail, leaning against it. She knew the women inside watched and were coming to their own conclusions as to what this conversation was about, but their opinions no longer mattered. Marianna's heart felt as if Aaron had pushed an invisible hand into her chest and squeezed. Didn't he realize that her whole life she'd waited to hear words like this? Didn't he realize that if she had any choice she would stay?

Her eyes focused on the two trees in the distance. For as long as she could remember she felt their boding. Her mother had lost two daughters and she'd been the replacement. She couldn't just leave Mem like this. Couldn't disappoint her and Dat.

"My mother needs me. I have to help her. She can't do it all on her own."

"Being the perfect daughter won't make up for the accident." His voice was low, yet the breeze that rattled the leaves on the trees swept his words to her.

She turned back to him, her hand still gripping the top rail. "Excuse me?"

"Don't you think everyone in the community can see it? You try so hard to be the perfect daughter. They talk. They all talk, you know."

Heat filled her cheeks again. A moment ago it had been pleasure at Aaron's attention. Now anger filled her. Shame. The community must think her a fool. Trying so hard and failing. She thought about Mrs. Zook's comments about Uncle Ike. Did they talk about her like that too? Did they laugh at her futile efforts to make up for the loss of her sisters? She swallowed down the emotion, but it stuck like a large cherry pit blocking her wind pipe. "I . . . I've never told anyone that I'm trying to be the perfect daughter."

"You don't need to tell them." He reached his hand, as if wanting to take hers, and then paused and pulled it back. "I'm just telling you because I care. I really do, Marianna."

She bit her lip, no longer feeling cared about in the slightest. "How dare you be so presumptuous? First, just because you've decided you've gone fancy on me you think I should get excited about this cabin. Maybe if you'd put the same effort into wooing me that you put into the cabin, I would stay. And second . . ." She lowered her voice and unclenched her fists. "Second, maybe it'll be good for me to get out of this community. Maybe other people, at another place, will stay out of their neighbors' business." She turned to him. "Have you ever thought that maybe I changed my mind. That maybe I
want
to go?" Marianna squared her shoulders. "Maybe I want to go some place where everyone doesn't already know the story of what happened the night I was born. Maybe I want to be seen for
me.
Maybe I've changed my mind about just settling down and getting married without seeing a little of the country first."

"Have you?" He looked at her—not at her eyes, but her soul.

She didn't answer, because to answer would be the first thread of a lie she'd have to continue to weave. She knew it. He knew it. And the women watching most likely guessed it too.

"You don't have to answer that." Emotion pushed his words out.

"It's not like I'll be gone forever, Aaron. It's just six months, and I'll write letters. I'll send them often."

He nodded, but she could tell he wasn't satisfied.

"I'll look forward to getting them, and I'll read every one. I just want you to know, I will wait for six months." Aaron returned his hat to his head. "And, well, if you don't return, I know I'll have my answer. I'll know that maybe taming the unknown ghosts of your past is more important than the future you could have . . . here with me."

CHAPTER TWELVE

Marianna made her way to the train window and looked down at the small group of people—their driver, her Aunt Ida, who wore a displeased look, and Aaron. He seemed so small standing on the platform. Tears filled her eyes as she looked down at him. She had tried to apologize for the way she'd acted yesterday, but every time she tried she got interrupted by one of her siblings. She didn't know what had gotten into her. She wanted a life with him, wanted to see the cabin . . .

What she
didn't
want is for him to make things harder. Making leaving harder. Couldn't he understand that she had to go because it was the right thing to do? Not because she was trying to measure up or replace, but because, well, because honoring one's father and mother took on many shapes. Not only following the Amish way of life, but being honoring in the daily little things.

Ellie sat on her lap, and Charlie sat next to her, silent. His eyes were wide as he took in the train and the people settling into the seats next to them. Marianna had the same feeling of wonderment, even though she tried not to let it show. She'd seen trains, but had never been on one. She'd interacted with Englisch in stores, but never beyond that. Her whole life was centered around people like her. People she understood and who understood her. But being at the station and on the train, she felt like a spectacle. Once, when their neighbor's sheep had given birth to a lamb with three legs, all the kids had gathered around the pen and stared.

She felt like that lamb.

Even now she could feel the eyes of the other passengers on them. Noting their dress, watching their every move. She smoothed the long sleeve of her lavender dress and fiddled with the side hem of her black apron. A woman two rows up had already asked Dat if she could take a photo with him. He had mumbled an excuse without being rude.

The train started with a lurch, and butterflies danced in her stomach. Her body pressed backward into her seat and the floor quivered under her sturdy black shoes.

Charlie's hands gripped her arm. "Is it going much faster soon?"

"I think so." Marianna waved at Aaron, and he lifted one hand. And then, when she was still in view, he turned and walked away. Her heart sank. If only she could assure him that everything would be okay. That she'd return in six months and they'd pick up where they'd left off.

The train whistle blew, and Ellie jumped in her arms.
"Ich will hem geh!"

I want to go home!
The little girl's cry could have come from Marianna's heart as well. "It's okay. We'll be there soon. We'll have a new home."

"Nay!"
Her wail increased and the other passengers didn't try to hide their stares.

"Ellie, it will be all right,
ach. Heb dich schtill
." Even as Marianna admonished her little sister to settle down, she couldn't deny the same overwhelming sense of loss and apprehension. Fear tightened her throat. This was happening. They were leaving.

Would they be all right?

Ellie turned, wrapping her arms around Marianna. Her feet kicked against Marianna's legs as if trying to stand. One foot kicked her thigh hard.

"Heb dich schtill!"
Her parents sat in a row behind her, and she wished they'd do something, say something to calm Ellie.

"Mem." Marianna turned partway in her seat and looked back. Her father's arms were around her mother, and she was shedding tears. They would be no help.

She turned back around, holding her sister firmer. "Please, Ellie, look. See what's out the window. Look over there." Marianna pointed, trying to distract her, and then something caught her eye. A small red car, dented and rusted, was parked in the lot of the hardware store down the street from the train station. Levi sat in the driver's seat watching. She caught a brief glimpse of him before the train turned a corner and disappeared out of view.

"Hem!"
Ellie cried again.
Home!

Marianna closed her eyes to trap the tears her sister's wail brought to her own eyes.

"Would she like a cookie?"

Marianna turned, surprised at the gentle voice. A woman in a business suit stood there. Her hair was fixed up, piled on top of her head. She wore makeup. Her lips lifted in a smile.

The woman sat in the chair across from Marianna and leaned forward. Charlie's grip around her arm tightened. As if blowing out a candle, Ellie's crying stopped. She buried her face into Marianna's neck, holding on to the strings of Marianna's kapp, not letting go.

"My grandma made the cookies last night. I visited her for her birthday." The woman pulled a plastic container from her bag and opened it. "They're my favorite."

"Ellie, look. Cookies." Marianna smiled at the woman. Cookies was one Englisch word Ellie understood perfectly.

Ellie turned on Marianna's lap, eyeing the woman's offering. Her grip loosened.

"They're chocolate chip. I hope that's okay."

"Yes, that sounds good.
Denke.
"

"Denke?" The woman repeated the word with care. "Thank you?"

Marianna smiled and nodded. "Yes, thank you." She took a cookie for Ellie and another for Charlie. They nibbled on their cookies in silence, their eyes focused on their laps.

"I used to be afraid of the train, but now I find it relaxing." The woman handed a cookie to Marianna and then took one herself. "It's cheaper than flying, and I can read a good book by the time I make it home. I have time to read my Bible too. Are you going far?"

Marianna had just taken a bite of the cookie when the woman asked. She chewed it and then swallowed, wiping the crumbs from the corners of her mouth with her fingertips.

"Yes, Montana."

"That's a long way. Are you going for vacation?"

"No, we're moving."

"Moving to Montana? Really? I thought the Amish stayed in the same community their whole lives." One of the woman's penciled eyebrows peaked into an arch. She was curious, but open about her thoughts. Marianna found herself liking the woman.

"Most do. That was my plan, too. But Dat—oh, my father, had other ideas."

"Well, it's good to know that God will be with you wherever you go, don't you think? It helps me to think about Him—to pray—whenever I'm scared and alone. And He's never abandoned me. When I seek Him, when I make the time to be with Him, I'm never disappointed."

Marianna couldn't help but notice the joy that spilled out of the woman as she talked. She tucked her hair behind her ear and then looked to the kids again. "I have a few coloring books and some crayons if your sister would like them. I got them for my friends' kids, but I can pick up something else later." The woman pulled two books and two boxes of crayons from her bag.

"Yes, she would like it. My youngest brother might be interested too. Josiah?" Marianna glanced over her shoulder.

The train had picked up speed, rocking side to side. Hobbling like a lame horse trying to get its footing, Josiah walked around the seat toward her. His eyes brightened when he noticed the crayons.

"Color crayons?" He sat next to Charlie. "Can we?" He looked to Marianna.