by Tricia Goyer
Then Marianna heard her mother's voice.
"A big dog with a lot of bark and no bite," her mother mumbled in Pennsylvania Dutch. Hearing that, her father's lips curled into a smile.
Marianna smiled too. Would tomorrow—would Montana—bring more of the same? The thought brought both curiosity and fear. But the fear lessened when a sound caught her . . . a sound all too rare.
Her mother's laughter.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Marianna woke and her eyes moved to the window, then widened. The sun had risen.
The transfer in Chicago had gone smoothly, but sometime during yesterday afternoon the train had stopped, and the conductor had come through to tell them there had been some type of spill ahead. What was supposed to be a thirty-three-hour trip would now be much longer. Instead of them getting to Whitefish, Montana, last night and sleeping in the beds at their new home, they spent their second night trying to get comfortable in the train seats. But perhaps the morning light coming through the window meant they were almost there.
She rubbed her eyes and sat up, seeing a different world outside the window than the place they left yesterday. Pine trees clung to rocky cliff faces, and a river—not like the creeks back home, but a real river—roared at the base of the canyon. The color of the water was bluish-green, like the turquoise necklace the clerk in the general store had worn, one Marianna had always admired. White foam danced on top of the river, reflecting in the morning light.
She cocked her head as she gazed out the window, lifting her eyes to the sky, but the hills rose and then turned into mountains. The sky was a sliver of blue off in the distance. Even though the view was breathtaking, her heart felt a slight pinch realizing her prairie lay far behind.
As did Aaron.
The door between the cars opened, and her father entered with long strides, his cheeks flushed. "Sis zeit fa uff vecka, gedrett all euer stuff zahma."
How cheerful he was, calling them to wake and gather their stuff. Marianna wished she shared his excitement.
Dat smiled at her. "We should be there in five minutes yet. Josiah, Charlie, wake up. Look at these forests and tell me if you see a bear."
Her youngest brothers slept in the seat across from her, where the pretty woman had sat two days before. They lifted their sleepy heads, hair sticking up in all directions, and put on their hats. Eyes turned to the window as the trees thinned and roads and houses began making an appearance. Those were followed by larger buildings and stores. Marianna noted disappointment in their sleepy gazes. Behind her, Mem woke David and gathered Ellie's things. The small girl had awakened at least a dozen times during the night, disoriented and scared. Only her mother's soft lullabies had calmed her.
As Marianna gazed out the window, she didn't know how she felt about Montana. The one thing in the forefront of her mind was getting off this train and freshening up. She'd worn the same clothes for the last three days. She longed to arrive at the station, find a restroom, splash cool water on her face, and run a comb through her hair.
She touched her kapp, feeling it askew. Removing it, she used her fingers to comb through her hair, refastening the strands with pins at the nape of her neck. She returned her kapp, knowing her efforts would have to be sufficient.
Five minutes later the train slowed and a cream-colored building trimmed in dark brown came into view. Large flower baskets hung along the face of the station. It looked old, like the type of building she pictured when she read stories of the old West. Clusters of people waited at the platform, but one man stood out. Uncle Ike was the only one dressed in Amish clothes.
"There he is!" Marianna pointed, and her brothers waved their hands as fast as hummingbird wings. As the train neared, Uncle Ike removed his brimmed hat, waving it and searching the windows for any sign of them.
Eager to stretch their legs, her family gathered their things and hurried toward the exit.
It was the sweet scent of the air that Marianna noticed first as she descended the train's steps. The air was sharp and clean, like none she'd ever breathed. It had a crisp nippiness, too, and Marianna wished she'd worn a sweater.
Uncle Ike spread his arms. "Welcome to Montana!"
Marianna looked to the station. To her left she saw trees and more buildings, but on her right, in the distance were mountains.
"It's beautiful, auch, just beautiful." The words poured from her father's mouth. Marianna turned to him and noticed his gaze fixed above the train.
She turned toward the train and was surprised to see their boxes had already been unpacked, but as she continued her gaze upward, her breath caught in her throat. There, towering over the train, were mountains bigger than she'd ever seen.
"Are those the Rocky Mountains?" David held Josiah's hand and pointed upward. "Look, Josiah." He seemed older than his twelve years, as if the train ride had matured him.
"Yes, the Rockies. Just a piece of them. Wait until you get a good look at everything around here." Uncle Ike stroked his beard. The way he looked at the mountains, it seemed he owned them all himself.
"It is beautiful," her mother confessed. "More than I thought it would be."
"Is our house near here?" Josiah stretched his suspenders.
Uncle Ike shook his head. "No, it's an hour-and-a-half drive, but a pretty one."
"More sitting?" Josiah made a face, and Marianna couldn't blame him.
"Ready?" Uncle Ike ignored her brother's complaint. "A van waits. My driver borrowed it. Should be enough room for all your things."
Marianna held Ellie's hand, and as she looked around, she noticed eyes on them. A couple with young children looked and pointed. An older woman smiled and waved, much to the embarrassment of her red-faced husband who grabbed her arm and guided her into the train station.
"So I assume there aren't many Amish here?" she asked Uncle Ike.
"Not too many. A dozen families up in the Kootenai, where we'll be. There are some Mennonites, though. Hutterites, too, but unless you travel up where we live, you'd never see a buggy in these parts."
"Will we be near these mountains?" Marianna's gaze locked on a large mountain that had lines running down it where the land had been cleared of trees.
"That's the ski park. Our community is near a mountain range to the north. Not so many paved roads or people. Everyone is excited to meet you. It's always a celebration when a new family moves in."
"It'll be nice to meet them too," Mem said, although her face showed more weariness than anything.
Her mother's words surprised Marianna. She'd expected Mem to scowl at Uncle Ike. Had something changed? Marianna thought back to her mother's laughter and her soft lullabies on the train. Even though travel was hard, maybe the doctor was right. Maybe leaving Levi and the worries of the farm behind would be good for Mem.
Marianna moved to their pile of boxes, counting to make sure they'd all arrived safely. She counted one short, and then counted again.
One was missing.
She hurried toward the baggage handler who was closing the train's side luggage panel.
"Excuse me, but there is one box missing."
"No, ma'am, I checked. There's nothing else for this stop." He closed the compartment.
"I'm sure one is missing. Can you look one more time?" She placed a hand on her hip and took a step toward him. She wasn't going anywhere until he looked.
With a heavy sigh the man opened the compartment. He hunkered down, leaning back on his heels and peered inside. "I don't see any more boxes. Only suitcases."
Marianna leaned in, half-climbing inside. "What about that?" She pointed to a box shoved behind some suitcases and turned on its side.
The man groaned under his breath and then climbed inside the storage area and pulled it out. Marianna stood as he handed it to her.
"Yeah, yer right. I suppose this is yours," he mumbled.
"Quilt was written on the box in her handwriting. Her heart skipped a beat.
"Denke." Her words released in a breat
h. "I'm so glad I have this box."
"Do you need help with that?"
Marianna turned at the male voice and found a young man standing there with a wheeled cart. His hair was dark and cut short in the same style as Levi's. He had blue eyes, but they were different than Aaron's. They were almond shaped with long, dark lashes. His face was square, strong, and he had a boyish look about him. She could almost picture him hiding in the backseat of a buggy to spook the driver just for fun.
Seeing the smile in his gaze made her smile too. She patted her kapp as if insuring it was still in place. She didn't want to glance down at her wrinkled dress and apron, confirming what a mess she was after the trip. "Denke, but I don't think we need help. I believe our driver is coming."
"Well, if that's the case . . ." The man turned the cart and strode away. Then he paused and looked over his shoulder with a wink.
Uncle Ike approached them with hurried steps. "Mari, this is the driver. Yes, Ben, all these boxes, please. And do hurry. I bet they can't yet wait to see their place."
Marianna's face grew warm, and she shaded it from the sunlight overhead.
"So how was your trip?" Ben asked Charlie as he piled boxes onto the cart. "Is it true that on the train your stomach jiggles even as you try to sleep?" He chuckled and the sounds of it made the day seem warmer.
Ben. Maybe short for Benjamin? It's a good Bible name. Marianna watched him stack the boxes. The name fit him, but as he lifted the boxes and stacked them with ease, it still seemed strange he was the driver. Drivers back home were older. Most were quiet, happy to do their job without too much effort of joking around or making friends.
"Well, I had a dream I was on a tugboat . . ." Charlie started. "And—"
Marianna didn't get to hear the rest of his response. Ellie's cry split the air. Without looking to see what the problem was, Marianna darted her direction, weaving around an older man and woman who were walking to the train.
Reaching her, Marianna swept Ellie up in her arms. "Was ist letz? What's the matter?" She scanned her sister's face, her hands, her bare legs, looking for blood—for the wound she was certain was there.
Looking down Ellie pointed to a puddle on the black asphalt. She pointed to her coloring book that sat in the middle of the murky water.
Footsteps approached, and Marianna noticed it was Ben. His eyes were wide with concern.
"Ellie, I thought you were hurt," she scolded, embarrassed for her unladylike behavior.
"Everything okay?" Ben studied Ellie. "Did she fall?"
"No, it's her coloring book." Marianna attempted to bend down while she still held crying Ellie on her hip. "She must have dropped it."
"No problem." Ben lunged forward. His hand brushed Marianna's arm as he grabbed the book, then he turned to the side, shaking the water off in the grass.
"I'll tell you what"—he gave Ellie a warm smile—"I'll take this home and dry it out. In the meantime, I'll give you this." He stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small wooden yo-yo. "Deal?"
Ellie looked at him, lifting one of her eyebrows with interest.
Then Ben turned to Marianna who held back a smile, and his eyes narrowed. "Your little sister doesn't understand me, does she?"
Marianna tried not to laugh at his sheepish look. "No, she only understands a little English, but I'll explain." Marianna explained the trade and Ellie smiled, reaching for the yo-yo.
"Do you think that'll be salvageable?" Marianna ignored Ben's bright-eyed gaze and focused on the soggy coloring book instead.
Ben lifted it up with two fingers and cocked an eyebrow at the drips of water falling from its pages. "I'm not sure, but it's worth a try."
The sounds of someone clearing his throat behind her made her jump, and Marianna turned to see Uncle Ike standing there.
"Looks as if you two have hit it off." Uncle Ike gripped Ben's shoulder. "Mr. Stone here has been a big help to me, driving me around, introducing me to folks. He's the one in fact, that showed me the house."
"Yes, so I'm the one you could thank." He puffed up his chest with a humored smile and turned in the direction of the cart he'd been attending to.
"Or perhaps blame." Marianna shot back.
Ben paused, then turned. "Blame? You blame me for bringing you to the Promised Land?"
"If that's what you call it," Marianna said, pretending she wasn't impressed by the majestic mountains. "It's only the Promised Land if you consider what we left as the wilderness, the desert." She shrugged. "Which I don't."
The brightness in Ben's eyes faded. "Yes, well, I better get to your things. Annie from the store has threatened me within inches of my life if I don't bring you folks around for breakfast." His eyes held Marianna's for a few seconds, but instead of his humored gaze from a moment before, his look was filled with curiosity, with questions.
Marianna looked away, not sure of her answers.
Ben couldn't help but glance at the Amish woman in his rearview mirror. His passenger's eyes were on the mountains, the trees, the lakes . . . which gave him time to eye her on the straight stretches.
He'd known Ike for six months, and the man seemed to break the mold as far as Amish men went. He often showed up at their Monday night prayer meetings, and the one thing Ike had repeatedly asked prayer for was now happening. Ike had prayed diligently for his brother's family to leave Indiana and come to Montana. He'd said they needed healing from pain in their past. He'd said they needed truth.
Ben didn't know what they'd faced—Ike hadn't gone into details—but it had to be hard. His hands gripped the steering wheel tighter, and he swallowed down a lump of emotion as big as a chicken egg. He knew about pain. Knew about running. Maybe that's why he'd been so drawn to these folks when he first heard about them. And why he wanted to do what he could to help.
He could see loss in their gazes. Abe and his wife seemed older than their years, but it was the young woman who carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. She was petite, slim. Even with her Amish clothes and no makeup she was beautiful.
Ben smiled to himself, remembering her climbing into the luggage compartment determined to find her missing box. The baggage handler had been frustrated, but Ben had been enamored—so feisty for such a small package.
"Ben here is a safe driver," Ike said from the passenger's seat, turning half way to look at his brother in the back. "He's not Amish, but might as well be. He's always helping us out. Goes out of his way to lend a hand, and is faithful to God too."
Ben scoffed. "Now, I think Ike here is hoping I'll give him a discount on this trip because of all those good words." He smiled. "I like helping, that's all. Just trying to love others like God did."
"Different than our Englisch neighbors in Indiana."
Ben could feel Ike's brother Abe studying him as he spoke.
"Not that there weren't good Englischers back East, but the ones that seemed to interact with our people the most were the ones who tried to lure our young ones away—to tempt them from the right path."
Pain tinged the man's words. Had a family member been "lured away." If so it made sense why they'd come to Montana for healing—and to protect their other children from such temptation. Ben glanced at Marianna again, who sat silent, listening. She didn't seem like the type prone to wander. Then again it was hard to see into another's heart.
"If anything, I hope to encourage people into a closer relationship with God. In fact, there's a Monday night prayer meeting and Tuesday morning Bible study if you're interested."
"No—" The word spouted from the older woman's lips. "But thank ye."
Ben nodded, and Ike glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. Ike had warned him that Amish from back East liked to keep to themselves. He'd had said to take it slow and just get to know them as friends first. He supposed he'd already failed at that.
Ben turned on his turn signal and passed a small sedan going far less than the speed limit. As he passed, he realized a woman in the passenger's seat was lea
ning out and taking photos of cows grazing in a field. Tourist.
Ben told himself to be patient with Ike's family, but it was hard. His heart was so full of thankfulness to God for delivering him from the pain of his past . . . he wanted to share that hope. That joy.
Especially with Marianna.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The drive took them on a small two-lane road with mountains rising on both sides. Pine and birch trees lined the roads, and they saw at least a dozen deer as they drove. Uncle Ike had pointed out the small town of Eureka, which looked as if it hadn't changed much over the years. Brick buildings with tall, wooden facades lined the road. A hand-painted sign pointed to the museum. A sandwich board on the sidewalk announced the best burgers in town.
Then, just when Marianna thought they were getting close to their new community, the road turned again, taking them away from town and toward the most beautiful lake she'd ever seen.
"Ben, can you tell them about the lake? Where it got its name?" Uncle Ike directed.
Ben had been quiet almost the whole ride. While for some drivers that was typical, it seemed out of character for him.
Marianna had a feeling the way she'd responded to him had something to do with it. Regret over her rudeness throbbed in her temples, and one of her grandmother's favorite sayings came to mind: "A person who thinks too little, talks too much." Lately she'd gotten into the habit of speaking before thinking, and it was something she needed to mend. After all, it wasn't Ben's fault she didn't want to be here. She should be thankful he found a home for her family. He seemed to be a good driver and someone who'd be there to help her parents after she left.
"Lake Koocanusa was named by using the first three letters of the Kootenai River, Canada and the USA." He pointed. "A half-hour or so away is the Libby Dam. I think the lake's somewhere around ninety miles long."
"Ninety?" David scratched his head. "That's a lot. I bet there's a lot of fish in there. Thousands."