Beside Still Waters (28 page)

One of the cookies fell back onto the cookie sheet, and she tried to pick it up and put it on the plate. The sheet was still hot and it burned her finger. "Ouch."

"You hurt yourself?" Dat asked.

"No, just a little burn." She hurried to the sink.

Her father neared. "If you keep acting that way, keep getting close to that young man, you
will
hurt yourself. I saw you at the auction, walking around together, talking. And now . . . today."

"It was nothing. We're just friends. That's all it will ever be. That's all I want it to be."

Lies. She lied again but didn't realize it was a lie until the words were out of her mouth.

Marianna stood in the doorway and watched as Ben approached the stool, settled down into it and then picked up his guitar. The last guest had just been served their meal, and all eyes turned to where he sat. The conversations stilled, until the only sound was the light clink of forks and knives against plates.

"First of all, congratulations to Mr. and Mrs. Grandell. Fifty years of marriage is a celebration indeed, something I hope I can celebrate someday."

Applause filled the room and the older couple blushed as they looked to each other. When the applause died down, everyone's attention again turned to Ben.

"I'm going to play a collection of songs this evening. The first one is called
D'Cinnamons, Selamanya Cinta,
which is a fancy way of saying romantic guitar solo."

Chuckles erupted around the room.

"So, men, if you have someone special here tonight be sure to take a moment and stare into her eyes."

An "Ahhh" flittered through the crowd.

"Thata way she'll be so focused on you she won't notice when you steal her cookie." Ben sniffed the air. "Don't they smell wonderful?"

Laughter filled the room again and then quieted as Ben started playing. The song begun off slow, yet each chord took on life, moving around the room like a living thing. Marianna clenched her hands, wishing she could release the emotions building inside. What was happening? It was almost as if the music was being absorbed inside her, filling her up.

She looked around the room at the smiling faces. One couple was locked in a fixed gaze. A woman fanned her face.

Another woman sat alone with an older couple. Fresh tears flowed down the woman's cheeks, and Marianna wondered if she was thinking of a lost love. Then there was Annie. Annie stood just outside the doorway where Marianna was standing. She swayed from side to side, ever so softly, as if imagining herself in the arms of someone she loved.

The song told a story. She pictured a young couple walking through the woods, enjoying the beauty around them, enjoying each other.

She looked back to Ben. He seemed to be watching the crowd as much as they were watching him.

Then the music rose in depth and emotion, and Marianna found herself fighting tears. Just when she thought they'd spill over, Ben turned to her. Their eyes locked, and for a moment she felt as if she was the only one there, the one he played the song for.

She swallowed hard, looked away, and took a step back. Walking back into the kitchen, she fanned her face and then looked for something to busy her hands.

As quietly as she could, she laid out small dishes and placed two freshly baked cookies into each one. Her fingers quivered as she plated the cookies, and a couple of them crumbled, scattering crumbs on the floor.

Brushing the crumbs from her fingers, she hurried to get a broom and dust pan and swept it up. As she rose, the dust pan hit the oven and made a loud clang. Marianna froze, hoping the guests didn't hear. With the cookies set, she got out the homemade ice cream and began scooping it up, placing the dishes in the large freezer until it was time for them to be served.

Footsteps sounded behind her, and Annie entered. She stepped close to Marianna and leaned in to her ear.

"We still have time for that. Why don't you enjoy the music?"

"No." Marianna frowned, interrupting. She hadn't meant to be so abrupt. Her mind scrambled for another excuse. "I was trying to get everything ready. I've been away from home most of the day. I wanted to get back to Mem as soon as possible. She might need my help."

"I understand. But I wish you could stay to enjoy the music. It's hard to believe we have someone so talented living here, don't you think?"

Marianna nodded. "He plays beautifully." She wanted to say more, but couldn't. As she looked away, she was sure Annie could read her emotions, even though she was trying so very hard to hide them. Hide them from Annie.

From herself.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The song was still there, replaying in her heart.

It had been months since that night she heard Ben play, and she'd only stayed to listen to the one song, but that didn't seem to matter.

In the days and weeks since her arrival in Montana, Marianna had settled into a simple pattern, going to work, going to church, helping Mem, walking Trapper, and counting the weeks until she returned to Indiana.

Mem's stomach continued to grow, and as summer slipped into fall Marianna began to question if she'd be able to leave as soon as she thought. The kids were a handful, and with Marianna working in the store all day, the chores piled up. She did her best at night, but she was always behind. That's why she told Mem she'd stay until after Christmas—or at least that was one of the reasons. The other was she couldn't imagine being away from her family during that time of year. And somewhere back in her mind she hoped that more time would give her a chance to sort out her feelings about Aaron.

And about Ben.

She felt guilty as she walked back from Mrs. Peachy's house after a day of quilting—she hadn't written Aaron in a month. But how could she, when her thoughts were so often on another?

Today, as the ladies cleaned up their things, they offered to help Marianna with her quilt next, but she came up with an excuse. Because, out of all the chores she did, quilting was
her
time. She usually snuck in a few hours on Sunday afternoon to sit and quilt. Focusing in on the needle, moving in and out of the fabric, she could forget about the cares of the world and find a sense of peace.

Today they'd worked on Hope Peachy's quilt, stopping only to enjoy a hot dish lunch. In the four hours she was there, she learned nearly everything there was to know about the people in the Kootenai community—except for Ben. No one mentioned him, and Marianna didn't bring him up. She saw him sometimes when he came into the grocery store, but they rarely exchanged a word.

After that night at the restaurant, Dat had started using Danny Noel to drive their family to Eureka for shopping or to Libby for Mem's doctor's appointments, and no one had asked why. Marianna didn't have to ask. She knew Dat wanted to keep them apart as much as possible. He no doubt feared, as she did, that her feelings for Ben could grow into something unacceptable, unthinkable.

She crested the hill within a half-mile of their house, walking with slow, heavy steps. By the time she reached the front of the house, Trapper would sense she was there and run to her, greeting her with a bark, wagging his tail so hard his whole body moved with it.

In the distance the mountain peaks jutted into the sky, the tops of them hidden in white, puffy clouds. Overhead an eagle soared, and Marianna wondered what it would be like to join him—to lift into the clouds and leave the stuff of earth behind? It was a pleasant thought.

A soft breeze tugged at the lower branches of the pine trees, but all she could think about was the corn stalks waving in the wind back home. Did those she left behind think of her as often as she thought of them? Or did their small community continue as it always had? She hoped in a way they missed her. That she was worthy of being missed.

Her limbs felt as if they weighed a hundred pounds each, and she could barely lift her hand to brush her hair back from her face. It wasn't anything at the quilting that had bothered her—she'd put on her best smile for that. Instead, she'd dreamt about Levi last night and couldn't shake the heavy feeling from her chest.

In her dream they were back home, climbing the tree that hung over the river. He'd been ahead of her and the limb had quivered under their feet. She could see he was unbalanced, but her body couldn't move fast enough to reach out and steady him. She saw him fall, tumbling downward. She'd woken up then, heart pounding. She'd woken to her own sad cry filling the room.

She didn't like that dream. Not one bit. Yet replaying it in her mind made her think of another . . . a dream she first had in Indiana, that had replayed at least four or five times since she'd been in Montana. It was a dream of a man standing beside still waters. There was peace at that place, and he was calling to her. She never saw his face, but she felt his love. At times she thought it was Aaron. Other times her father. Sometimes, when she let her mind wander, she imagined it being Ben. Or maybe it was Levi? Did Levi need her? Did the love of a brother beckon her to return?

She'd written him two letters in the last month but hadn't heard back. When she asked Uncle Ike if he'd heard anything, he'd shaken his head.

"Nothing different 'cept that he's working and living in the same trailer with some friends," Uncle Ike had told her. She lowered her head and kicked a rock down the dirt road, wondering if another letter would do any good.

A few minutes later she crested the last hill near her home, and as expected Trapper darted toward her.

"There you are." She knelt down to pet him, barely able to scratch behind his ear before he zipped around her, circling her once, twice, three times.

She walked to the house. It was so quiet today. She opened the front door, and there were no greetings from her siblings. No sound of footsteps. Her heart began to pound. Her mother still had two weeks until it was time to deliver, but many babies came early.

Marianna rushed back out the front door, and then hurried to the barn. At least the buggy was still there, and as she looked to the field across the way she spotted Silver grazing near the line of trees.

She went back to the house. Could Mem have gone into labor? Maybe they were on their way to Libby even now, which was sixty miles away, with their driver. If that was the case, surely they'd have left a note. It wasn't good that the doctor and hospital were so far away. There was a midwife in the West Kootenai, but considering her mother's age, even the midwife recommended she give birth in a hospital.

Ben popped into her mind—she still had his phone number. She'd placed it in the shed after he'd given it to her but had yet to use it. Today though, that might be different.

A piece of paper was on the table, she rushed toward it and then released a slow breath as she read the note:

Mari,

I got a bit of energy today and the kids and I walked to the Carash's house down the road to pick raspberries. You can join us if you'd like.

Mem

Marianna sat onto the bench at the dining room table and willed her heart to stop its wild beat. She patted her kapp and then rested her face in her hands, letting out a slow breath. Mem was good. The kids were fine.

It took a moment for her to feel settled—or at least as settled as she could be until the baby was born. And when she stood, determined to make dinner, she noticed a letter on the table, addressed to her from Aunt Ida. At least someone back home was thinking about her.

Liebe Kind,

I am here on my porch stitching on my quilt and thinking how much I missed you at our last quilting. Have you had a chance to work on your beautiful quilt?

In a recent letter from your father he told me you changed your mind and decided not to come in November, but rather after Christmas. That decision does not sit well with me. It is worrisome enough for a young woman to travel alone, but what about the weather? Wouldn't it be better to leave when it is yet fall? I promise you and I will have a lovely holiday, just the two of us. Perhaps we will invite the Zook boy over to visit a spell. I'd love to hear about that cabin he's building yet. Maybe he'll give us a tour.