Beside Still Waters (20 page)

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Authors: Tricia Goyer

Tags: #Family Life, #General, #Montana, #Amish, #Amish Children, #Families, #Christian Fiction, #Christian, #Spiritual life, #Religious, #Fiction, #Man-Woman Relationships

BOOK: Beside Still Waters
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When it was finished, the quilt would be the perfect addition to her cedar chest. But truth be told, she wished she had it done now. Not only would it help keep her warm, it would also be good to look at. To remember—even during hard days like today—that someday she'd be caring for her own house, in her own way, with her own husband at her side.

She considered getting out of bed to open the door, but the thought of her feet on the cool wooden planks sent a shiver up her spine. Then again, cold feet for a few minutes was better than a cold body all night. Not giving herself time to talk her way out of it, Marianna pushed back the blanket and bolted from bed. In three long strides she was across the room to the door. With a twist of the door handle she opened the door, left it ajar, and then hurried back into bed, burying down beneath the covers. She waited for the heat to come, but it barely trickled into the room.

As she lay there, she heard heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. It had to be David.

"David, did you stoke the fire as Dat said?"

He didn't respond. She thought about calling out to him again when he poked his head into her room. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" She snuggled deeper under her blanket.

"There's something outside. I think it's a dog."

"How do you know? It could be a wolf or a bear." She was only teasing, but from the troubled look on his face she could see he didn't find it funny.

David shook his head and then headed back into the living room.

"Where are you going?" She called louder, not caring if she woke her parents.

"It's a dog. I can hear him whining. I'm going to check on him. Maybe he's lost or hurt."

"It's not a dog, and don't you dare open that door." She really should get out of bed . . . but the thought of the cold planks on her feet held her fast.

"Yes, it is. I can see it through the window, in the moonlight. He's just a little guy."

The sound of the door squeaking open was followed by the rumble of footsteps across the floor. Marianna sat up as the sound grew louder and fear coursed through her chest. It was a wolf and it sensed her fear. She was sure of it. The beast was coming toward her!

She thought about praying for safety, but before a prayer formed in her mind the blur of a dark shadow caught her attention. A small animal flew through the air and landed on her bed—a wet, furry mass jumping on her. A warm tongue licked her face.

She pushed on the creature, trying to get him off her. The scent of mud and wet fur overwhelmed her, and she thought she was going to lose her supper.

Laughter spilled from her bedroom doorway, and she could make out her brother's outline.

"I told you it was a dog." David chuckled.

"A horrible, stinky dog that just covered me and my bed with mud. What were you thinking, opening the door like that? Can you light the lantern, please?"

"But Dat said to only use it in case of an emergency. We need to get to the store for more propane . . ."

"This is an emergency!" she shouted, attempting to grab hold of the wiggling creature. "I have a wild animal in my bed!"

She jumped up and hurried into the living room, lighting the propane lantern herself. The creature followed her, staying close to her heels. She turned, eyeing it in the light, and felt her eyes widen. It was a small gray dog, not much bigger than a large cat.

The dog lifted his head and looked up at her, tail wagging. His fur was matted and his ribs showed.

"Poor thing." She knelt next to him, and he scooted close to her leg. Ignoring how filthy he was, Marianna scratched behind his ear. "You poor little guy. Where did you come from?"

"Everything all right down there?" Dat's voice called from up the stairs.

"It looks like we have a visitor. He's so thin . . ." Marianna's lower lip pouted. "Seems as he's lived in those woods a while. I wonder when he last had a good meal?"

Dat came down the stairs, dressed in his nightshirt and rubbing his eyes. His eyes widened when he saw the creature. Dat had never been a pet person. In his opinion the only animals worth keeping around were the ones that earned their feed.

"He does look a little thin and lost." Dat crossed his arms over his chest. "I feel sorry for him, but I wouldn't get too close. Could have ticks and fleas."

"Too late. It was already on Marianna's bed." David shook his head, laughing.

"Not by my choice. It attacked me." Then she tilted her head. "Still, he doesn't seem like he has a home. Maybe we should keep him around—as a friend for the kids." She shrugged. "You know, to help them adjust."

"Tell you what"—Dat turned back to the stairs—"David, why don't you take the dog to the shed tonight and I'll look him over tomorrow." Dat yawned. "Could be the last owners left him here."

"They'd do that?" Marianna stood and then watched as David snatched the small dog up. The dog continued to look at her, ears perked.

"Maybe. Either that or he saw the opportunity to make a home with the new folks moving in."

Marianna scratched the dog's ears again, looking into his large dark eyes. Even though his tail wagged, his eyes held a gaze of hopefulness. All he wanted was a home. To be loved. Marianna offered a sad smile as David carried the dog outside, understanding. All she wanted was the same.

Dear June-Sevenies,

I know it's a week to my birthday yet, but I received a surprise last night—my first night at our Montana home. I wouldn't call the small creature a gift, but he was a surprise.

I was just settling into bed when David heard whining outside. He opened the door and this small dog raced into the house. He ran right past David and bounded for me in my bed. He was a wiggling mess of tongue and tail, and it took all my strength to hang on to him. And oh what a dirty mess! He looks as if he's been living in the woods for a while. He's thin and his fur was tangled. Dat believes he must have belonged to the previous owners, although I can't imagine how someone could leave their home and also leave their small dog behind! Living on the farm we've never had a dog for a pet before. This dog, on the other hand, thinks he owns the whole house. He follows me from room to room and only goes outside if I venture out too. What an inconvenience!

Our house is nice, but I've discovered some things are more primitive. There is running water in the kitchen, but it must be a small well because that is the only plumbing in the house. We get the rest of the water from a large feed trough out back. It had been filled with rain water but Uncle Ike cleaned it out and went down to the Carashes' house to get fresh water. There is a large fire pit out back and a kettle to heat the water for laundry and baths. The washing tub is on the back porch and it's fine now, but I can't imagine what happens in winter, maybe move the whole system in the middle of the living room?

All of us got baths and our clothes washed. Such a little thing before seemed like a big accomplishment. I washed up Trapper, too. Yes, that's what we named our dog. Charlie picked the name because he's sure the dog figured out how to trap in order to stay alive in those woods. Personally, he has so much energy I don't think he'd let himself stop long enough to die. I have to admit he is much cuter once he's bathed, but I refuse to let him sleep with me no matter how much he whines.

I've been thinking about it, and maybe I should try to get back in time for Clara's wedding. Clara, telling me Aaron is attending has me thinking this way. There's nothing more romantic than sitting at a wedding knowing that the man you fancy is sitting close by. I was worried about getting enough money before then, but Uncle Ike was telling me about the Amish Auction coming up in a few weeks. He said it's a big thing around these parts. Folks come from all around the country and bid on Amish made things, like handmade furniture, quilts, and even log homes! If I can get to town soon for supplies, I might be able to finish my quilt in time. Uncle Ike said he's seen quilts go for over a thousand dollars. Imagine that.

Well, I better go, the boys should get home from school soon. I'm curious to hear about their day. I feel like Aunt Ida—waiting on the porch for our visits, wanting to know the whos and whats. Unlike Aunt Ida, I have no one to spread the news too. I'm sure all of you aren't that interested about the latest news of the West Kootenai Amish!

Sending all my love (and a Montana wildflower),

Marianna

Ben breathed in the fresh, Saturday morning air and fingered the envelope in his hand as he entered the Kootenai store, where he dropped the letter in the out basket. Edgar didn't comment, but the older clerk looked at the envelope with sadness in his face. One would think after seeing the same thing happen every week, Edgar would have gotten used to it by now.

"Ike's looking for you." Edgar said, returning to the Kalispell newspaper spread before him.

"Thanks." Ben headed to the dining area and even before he rounded the corner he knew he'd find Ike in the second booth on the left. Ike always sat in the second booth. Ben's feet slowed as he noticed Ike's brother, Abe, sitting across from him, sipping coffee.

Ben continued into the room, preparing to sit at a different booth when Ike motioned to him. "You can sit with us. The ladies should be gathering soon, and we men need to stick together. Besides, I have something to ask."

"Sure." Ben slid into the booth next to Ike, then motioned to Annie in the kitchen for a cup of coffee. With a grin she grabbed a mug, filled it, brought it his way, and then hurried back into the kitchen.

"Women gathering?" Abe shifted slightly in his seat as if uncomfortable about Ben joining them.

"Yup." Ike cut his scone with a fork. "The Amish ladies show up around 8:30 and the Englisch filter in around nine. They just eat and gab. You know, talking about women stuff."

"The Amish and . . ." Abe started and then stopped.

"The Amish and Englisch sit together?" Ike took a bite, chewed and swallowed. "Is that what you were going to ask?"

Abe looked to Ben, then to Ike. "Maybe." He lowered his head.

"I'm not offended really." Ben raised his hands. "I wondered the same thing too. But as Ike here has reminded me, if we're all children of God, then we have to have a family reunion once in a while." Ben elbowed Ike's ribs. "Ain't that right."

Ike nodded.

"Yes, well, that's not how I'm used to doing things." Abe lowered his head and finished eating his meal. He was at least fifteen years older than Ike, and he seemed set in his ways. Ben wanted to ask why he'd come to Montana but knew it would be important to give Abe time. He'd heard it took a long time—sometimes years—for Amish to trust outsiders.

As they sat there, women started entering. As each woman passed by, Ike introduced them to his brother.

Abe tensed up the first few times he was introduced to Englisch women, and Ben could tell from the man's face he'd never seen anything like this before—women from both sides gathering and talking as friends.

Ben wondered if Abe would tell his wife and eldest daughter about it. It would do Marianna good to get out and meet some people. She seemed bent on making this place as close to Indiana as she could get. It might work for a while to focus on tending a home and only communicating with other Amish, but as soon as the snow flew—if they stayed that long—it would be a different story. They needed each other.

All of them did.

Ben glanced at Ike. "Did you have a question for me?"

"Yeah." Ike leaned forward in the booth and rested his elbows on the wooden table, then he lowered his voice. "Is there any place in Eureka one could get an English Bible?"

Ben tilted his head. Though the Amish only read German Bibles, Ike had been reading an English one ever since he'd started attending the small Bible study Ben also attended. Most likely Abe didn't know that . . .

Ben nodded. "Yes, why?"

"Well, my brother here has already been asked to be part of the rotation for preaching. I'm not sure you know how our church works, Ben, but most congregations have a bishop who handles that duty. Because we're so small we've yet to get one, the responsibility falls on the men." Ike looked to Abe and Ben followed his gaze, noticing the older man's cheeks reddening.

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