by Tricia Goyer
Marianna placed a hand on her hip. "Well, now, I suppose there is only one thing I have to do, then. Tell me Driver Ben . . . do you have room in the back of that trailer for a few more things?"
Though her eyelids weighed heavy from long days of travel, Marianna didn't want to blink lest she miss one inch of the view. Their truck and trailer wound its way up the dirt road that led to West Kootenai, Montana. Late spring draped a soft green blanket over the high mountain pastures. They drove past creeks carrying sparkling, white water down the hillsides toward Lake Koocanusa.
Looking up, the snow still rimmed mountain peaks. Snow that would soon make its way down the mountains. A knot swelled in her throat at the thought of parking in front of their log cabin and seeing Josiah and Ellie bounding out the front door. She pictured Trapper's excited bark and dance, and her smile could not be contained.
Marianna leaned forward. "You can drive a bit faster."
Her parents' laughter joined with Ben's, and she caught his gaze in the rearview mirror.
The truck and trailer crossed the bridge over Lake Koocanusa and wound its way up the mountain road. Twenty minutes later they pulled up and parked, and before she could get her side door open, Marianna saw Trapper, leaping through the open door . . . racing to her side.
She stepped out of the back seat of the large truck. Trapper danced at her feet.
She was home.
Morning dawned in West Kootenai. As soon as the sun's rays brightened the morning, Marianna had been up and dressed. Now she walked down the wooded pines behind their home, her eyes on Trapper. The dog trotted beside her . . . and then, as he neared the still pond, he paused.
Her heart doubled within her, and she crossed her arms and pulled them tight. With a single bark the dog lunged over the hill.
"It could be a rabbit or a squirrel." She patted her kapp, but something inside told her it that wasn't it. Hope filled her over where the next few steps could lead her. And whom.
Within a quickened pace she followed Trapper. Her footsteps crunched on the dry pine needles. The scent of new leaves and mountain streams filled her nostrils. Laughter spilled out as she crested the hill, but the log was empty. Her heart fell. How foolish. She'd let her romantic thoughts carry her away.
Then . . . movement. Trapper ran along the water's edge and a figure crouched down and opened his arms to the dog.
Ben.
He looked as if he'd been expecting her. Maybe hoping was a better word. He'd hoped she'd come, and his face glowed like the reflection of the sun across the water.
Ben laughed as Trapper jumped into his arms. Then with a pat on the wiggling creature's back, he set down the dog and stood. He walked toward Marianna, and she'd never been more happy.
To be here. To see the mountains towering above them. To witness pure affection in Ben's gaze. To feel God's presence beside the still waters . . .
This . . . was joy.
"I was hoping you'd come."
His low voice, his nearness, cloaked her in the purest contentment. Even so, she couldn't help but think of the community and what this would mean.
Always the community. Even with her parents' permission it was hard turning her back on all she'd been raised to believe.
Ben paused before her. He stroked her jaw with his fingers and caressed her neck. "I don't want to let you go again. I learned that the hard way. I was a coward, but now I've been thinking about things."
"What things?"
"Of us doing this every day. Walking through these woods. Praying by this pond. Spending life together. Looking into each other's eyes. Do you feel the same way?"
"I think so. I believe so."
She leaned forward and their lips met. The kiss was hesitant, hopeful. Everything within her grew warm. She'd wanted this for so long. Wanted him for so long.
Ben.
He pulled back from the kiss and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into an embrace and whispered in her ear. "I want us to be together. To have a life together."
She pulled her hand from his and gripped his forearms. She pulled back farther, looking into his face. "I want that too. And the strange thing is, I believe that's God's plan for me . . . for us."
He kissed her once more, and she could feel his smile on her lips. Then he cupped her face and looked into her eyes. His adoration was palpable. Why had it taken her so long to embrace the truth?
"I love you so much, but I know what that means. By coming to me, I know all you have to leave behind." His blue eyes widened, and he glanced from her eyes to her kapp. He turned, looking away. "It's asking too much . . ."
Lightness, peace, flooded her chest. "I don't want to be stuck in the ways of the past, Ben. I'll always be grateful for all I've learned—the Amish community's love, respect, and care for each other—but I want to step forward into the future. The future God has planned for my life, for our lives. Now that I know about God and His love...I can't stay here anymore, with the things of the past. And now that I know your heart. Ben, I never want to let go."
Marianna's mind echoed his name—Ben, Ben.
At last he turned toward her and their eyes met. Joy radiated from his eyes.
She raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh, and about your new song." She grinned. "I hope it's time for me to hear it."
He chuckled and glanced to his guitar, leaning against a tree. "I'm still working on it. The title is 'Marianna'. And my favorite line goes something like this: 'Marianna . . . the name written with the pen of the man who dreams of a future by your side.'"
She placed a hand to her cheek. "I love it."
"I hope so, because the song was inspired by some letters I've been writing. I've been learning a lot about the Amish. Learning there are some things we can all learn from their ways." He pulled an envelope from his back pocket. "Here's the first letter. I thought you'd want to read it."
She pulled lined paper from the envelope. She was about to read when he took it from her hands.
"Actually, let me read it to you." He cleared his throat and began.
Dear Marianna,
The long journey has me weary. The miles have taken their toll, but even in its heaviness my mind can't stop thinking of you. It's strange how often I find myself turning to letters to express my feelings. I suppose it's become my means of communicating. Strange how I now filter my thoughts through the written word. Putting pen to paper seems to calm me somehow.
There's an Amish proverb I've been thinking about. You know it, too, no doubt. The gem cannot be polished without friction, nor the man perfected without trials. It's an easy one to quote when the warm spring breeze is upon you and the air smells of fields and trees, but the truth is I'd rather have the friction gone for now. The trials aren't from outside. If anything I should be happy that the dream I've held for so long is finally coming true. Tomorrow is a big day.
Instead, the trials are within. In a perfect world I'd be able to share this letter with you. No, let me say that differently. In a perfect world I'd be able to share what's really going on with my words—by looking into your face and speaking my heart.
I picture you at this moment, sleeping under a handmade quilt and dreaming of me. I hope that's the case. Tomorrow I'll put on a smile and no one will be the wiser, but tonight I'll still think about you—think about the truth of what I hold inside that more than anything I wish I could confess.
Written by the man who dreams of your smile.
He looked up at her and smiled. "I wrote this just days after you left Montana."
"All this time?" Her breath released with her words.
"Yes, Marianna." He kissed the tip of her nose. "I've been loving you all this time."
"I can't wait until you read the other letters you wrote to me. I'm eager to hear the song too. I want to be the first to hear it when you're done. I also want to know what I've missed in your life. I have a feeling you have a few stories to tell."
"That I do." He winked. "So what you're saying is that
you're not going anywhere?"
She shook her head and then glanced at the pond, drawing strength from it. Knowing this—knowing Ben—was God's gift to her.
She looked back to him, focusing on his eyes. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm choosing you, Ben. I'm choosing you." She touched her kapp.
"Are you sure?" He took a step back and focused on where her hand rested.
Marianna nodded and lifted the kapp off her hair. A few wayward strands curled against her cheeks, and she smiled.
Ben brushed those strands back from her face and tears filled his eyes.
She touched her fingers to his hand, pressing it against her cheek. "Ja, Ben. I am sure. This is the love I've been hoping for. Praying for. You are God's gift to me. One I will cherish always."
She released a pin from her hair, allowing it to fall over her shoulders, and knew she, like her hair, was finally unbound. Free to live as God called. Free to be neither Amish nor Englisch, but only His daughter.
Free to marry the man He had chosen for her.
And as Ben opened his arms to her, she lifted her heart in praise—and stepped forward into a future blessed by her Creator. As his embrace closed around her, she nestled her cheek against his strong chest, listened to the solid beat of his heart.
"Yes, Ben. Oh yes. I am sure."
Layered Dinner
Martha Artyomenko
1 pound ground beef, cooked
1/2 pound bacon, cooked and diced (save grease)
carrots, sliced
cabbage, sliced
potatoes, sliced
canned green beans (if you want)
salt
1/4 cup flour
2 cups milk
Layer beef, bacon, carrots, cabbage, potatoes, and green beans in a roaster pan. Salt each layer lightly. Add flour to the bacon grease and stir until smooth. Add milk slowly, bring to a boil and cook 1 minute or until thick and smooth. Salt and pepper to taste; pour over top of casserole. Bake at 350 degrees for about one hour or an hour-and-a-half, until potatoes are tender.
NOTES:
You can basically use any vegetable you want. I have done it without the bacon, but I like the flavor the bacon gives. You can also do it with cream of mushroom soup if you would like to instead of the bacon/white sauce.
Cherry Crumb Pie
Martha Artyomenko
Pie crust:
2 2/3 cups flour
1 cup shortening
8 tablespoons water
pinch salt
2 jars home-canned cherry pie filling or 2 cans cherry pie filling
1 teaspoon almond flavoring, divided
Topping:
2 cups flour
2 cups brown sugar
1 cup butter
In large bowl place flour and salt. Cut in shortening until very fine crumbs, using a fork, until your shortening is completely absorbed and you do not see white flour anymore. Add water carefully. Do not overhandle. Add a little less or little more, depending on your altitude and weather conditions. Form two balls and roll out on a floured board to fit a pie pan. Finish the edges in the fashion desired and set aside.
In the bowl you made the pie crust in, put the ingredients for the topping. Cut the butter into the dry ingredients until crumbs form. Fill pie shells with cherry pie filling. Add 1/2 teaspoon almond flavoring to each pie. Top with crumbs.
Bake at 400 degrees for 35 to 40 minutes or until crust is lightly browned and bubbly. Pie shell should shake loose from the tin, if you are not sure if it is done.
Leah's Grapenuts
Martha Artyomenko
This is a very typical Amish, homemade cereal you would eat in the mornings. Especially if you owned a cow.
3 pounds brown sugar
2-1/2 quarts sour milk (fresh raw milk that has gone sour is best, but store milk that is on the edge works fine)
3/4 pounds melted margarine or oil
8 pounds whole wheat flour
1-1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon maple flavoring
2 tablespoons baking soda
2 tablespoons vanilla
Dissolve baking soda in milk before adding to dry ingredients. Add butter and flavorings. This will be a thick batter. If too thick or too thin, add less flour or more milk. Spread in three greased cookie trays (if you want it thicker, use two cookie trays). For think cake—bake at 350 degrees for 30 to 40 minutes or until cake tastes done. For three trays—back for 30 minutes and then text if it comes out clean, if not, bake until knife comes out clean. Break into chunks and you can either rub on a screen to get small chunks or process for a few seconds in a food processor. You do not want them very small as it will be like eating bread crumbs! Spread on cookie trays again and toast in slow oven (175 degrees) until browned lightly and very dry.
Granola
Martha Artyomenko
1/2 cup oil
1/2 pound margarine
2 tablespoons molasses
1 tablespoon vanilla
1 cup brown sugar
1 cup honey
1/2 teaspoon salt
7-1/2 cups oats
1/2 cup sesame seeds
3 cups grape nuts (I use homemade or any cereal is good. I have used a mixture of all sorts.)
1 cup wheat germ
1 pound coconut
(If I am out of anything I just add more oats or grape nuts.)
Melt together oil, margarine, molasses, vanilla, brown sugar, honey, and salt. In a large bowl, mix oats, sesame seeds, grape nuts, wheat germ, and coconut. Pour liquid over top and stir well. Bake for 8 hours at 200 degrees, stirring every couple hours, until browned and crunchy. When you pull it out, if you like large chunks, do not stir until completely cooled. This will give you the large crunchy chunks. If desired, stir in dried fruit after baking, but before cooling.
Author's Note
Dear Reader,
From the first scene on Beside Still Waters I've been eagerly anticipating the last scene of Beyond Hope's Valley. A love story is just that—a love story. Marianna has gone through many ups and downs on her journey, but from the beginning I knew the happily-ever-after I wanted for her at the end. I'm talking about her chosen man, of course, but I'm also speaking of her growing romance with her Creator. Marianna's heart is different at the end of this book than it was when she first arrived in Montana. She's different.
As I've mentioned in previous author's notes, the plot behind this series was inspired by my friends Ora Jay and Irene Eash. The spiritual journey of this series was inspired by them, too. I have never met two people who are so joyful and eager to share about their relationship with Jesus Christ. Often during the writing of the Big Sky Series I've called Ora Jay and Irene to ask questions about the Amish lifestyle, and we'd usually stay on the phone for over an hour as they shared about what God was teaching them in His Word. They also always asked me what He's been speaking to my heart, too. That's what true Christian fellowship is all about! I'm so thankful for friends like that.
My hope is that as you read Beyond Hope's Valley you'll be inspired to seek God about every detail of your life—and share your journey with good friends—just as Marianna did. There are many times we think we know God's will for our lives, but sometimes we are surprised. In my own personal relationship with Jesus Christ I've discovered that His way is always best . . . and He has greater plans for me than I ever imagined!
If you'd like to hear more about what God is doing in my life, please be sure to check out my website and blog at www.triciagoyer.com. I'm also on Facebook and Twitter, and I love to connect with my readers! Make sure we connect there, and they YOU can tell me about how God is speaking to you, too!
With a heart full of thankful to Jesus!
Tricia Goyer
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