Beside Still Waters (A Big Sky)

by Tricia Goyer

  "I borrowed the van from the Carashes. If you pass your place, they're right down the road."

  "Are you walking home?" Marianna kicked her foot against the dry pine needles.

  "It's a mile and a half to the school, and I live just a little beyond that. I offered to your mother to walk your brothers there to show them the way, and then I was going to drive them back. But before I forgot, I wanted to give you this." He pulled a slip of paper from his pocket and handed it to her.

  She noticed he'd written down some phone numbers.

  "The top one is my home number. The bottom my cell, though it's spotty in these parts."

  Marianna placed a hand on her hip. "You really don't know much about the Amish, do you?"

  "Well, I know some but not much, why?"

  "We don't believe in having phones. Or electricity. My uncle assured Dat this was an Amish place with no wires going to the house." Even as she said that, she scowled over the fact there was a generator and electric lights in the barn.

  "That's right. There are no wires in the house. But there is wiring in the barn and you do have a phone. It's out in the shed." Ben pointed to a small building next to the barn.

  Her brow furrowed. "What for?"

  "The last Amish folks that lived here, well, they ran a business. Had a little milking operation, I believe. He took orders over the phone."

  "They don't sound much like Amish folks. First the generator to run the milking machine and then a phone?" She clucked her tongue.

  "I don't see what the problem is. Your father worked in a factory back in Indiana, didn't he? I'm sure they had electricity. They had a phone for orders, right?"

  She knew her father went to work, in addition to farming, but she hadn't given much thought to the fact he'd entered into the Englisch world to do his job. "I suppose."

  "This phone was for the same purpose."

  "Ja, well, just because it's there doesn't mean we have to use it. Our Ordnung states we are not to use telephones, and in my opinion what's the difference between having the wire go to the shed and the house? I doubt we'll have a need for it."

  Ben eyed her for a minute and narrowed his gaze as if attempting to figure her out. He opened his mouth and then closed it again, as if wondering what to say, and then as his eyes brightened with a challenge. She knew he'd decided to say exactly what he felt.

  "Listen. Things are different here. It's not like your neighbor's house is just a stone's throw away. I'm not sure how things worked back home, but people live a ways a part. There might be an emergency. And you might need to call me sometime."

  Marianna cocked an eyebrow.

  "You know, if you need a ride into Eureka."

  "Ja, of course, there's always that."

  She folded the paper in her hands once, then folded it again. Back home she'd often gone to the neighbor's house to use her phone to schedule a driver. She just didn't understand why the idea of calling Ben for the same reason bothered her so.

  Ben turned to the house. "If you'll excuse me, I'll go get those boys."

  "Yes, of course." She squeezed the paper in her fist, realizing he was right. What would she do it there was an emergency? Who would she turn to?

  Ben strode to the house with long steps, whistling a happy tune. She crossed her arms over her chest as she watched, surprised her mother was letting the boys go. They'd left Indiana so Levi wouldn't influence them, and now she was letting them hang out with this Englisch driver. Marianna shook her head and made her way to the house. It made no sense.

  But then again, she wouldn't be around long enough to worry about it.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The house was bigger inside than Marianna expected. Nicer too. A large porch wrapped around the entire house and double doors welcomed her. She stepped through the front door and scanned the large L-shaped area that was a dining room, living room, and kitchen. There were two doors off the living area, and she assumed one was a bedroom and the other a bathroom. Wide stairs led upward to an open balcony. She heard squeals and the pounding of feet up there. It sounded like a stampede of cattle but was just the kids playing tag.

  Ben's voice drifted down from upstairs, and a moment later he descended, three boys in tow.

  David grinned at her. "See you later. We're walking to school."

  "Yes, I've heard." She moved to an old kitchen table that the previous owners had left and sat down heavily on the long bench. "David, be sure you keep an eye on Josiah, yes? He tends to wander off. And if Mr. Stone needs anything translated, please help him. Mr. Stone doesn't understand Pennsylvania Dutch."

  Ben walked to the door. "Translations are helpful."

  The boys left, a bundle of energy racing out the door. She couldn't help her smile as they hurried down the lane, and Ben broke into a jog to keep up with them.

  Mem's footsteps sounded heavy coming down the stairs. She held Ellie's hand as they descended, and the strain of the trip was evident in her face.

  "Don't worry about the boxes, Mem. I'll start unpacking and find a way for us to have baths."

  "Thank you." Mem approached the table and sat beside Marianna, also watching through the window as the boys crested a hill and followed the road to the other side. Ellie rubbed her eyes and then climbed into Mem's lap. Mem cleared her throat. "He's harmless, you know."

  "Who?" Marianna turned and brushed stray hairs back from her face, trying to muster the energy to tackle the boxes.

  "Ben." Mem smoothed a hand over Ellie's back, rubbing it in small circles.

  "He's Englisch."

  "Yes, I know."

  "Which doesn't make him harmless."

  Mem shrugged. "He wants to help. And I think we need all the help we can get."

  They sat there a few minutes, taking in the view of the trees and the field across the road. Down that road somewhere was another house, and she had no doubt others lived around them, but looking around one would never know it. It was as if they were the only family in this part of the world.

  "There are three large bedrooms upstairs. I thought Dat and I would take one and put the kids in the other two." Mem turned and pointed to the door off the living room. "The small bedroom should work for you."

  "Yes, I don't need much. I won't be staying long, after all."

  "So I've heard." Mem rose and moved back upstairs, with Ellie snuggled to her chest. The way she carried Ellie caused Mem's dress to press around her frame. Her mother's stomach was evident, small and round, like a ball under her dress. Seeing it, Marianna couldn't help but smile. Despite the fact she didn't agree with her mother's opinion about Ben, and the fact they'd had two very hard days of travel, the realization that another family member would join them by fall was something to be happy about.

  Marianna rose. "You should rest, too. I'll try to find some bedding in those boxes."

  "No need. The beds are already made. I assume some of the Amish from the new community took care of that. And provided the furniture, too."

  "Really?" Marianna rubbed the back of her neck.

  "I don't know who else would have done it."

  Her mother continued up the stairs, and Marianna went to her bedroom. A twin bed was pushed against one wall. A light green blanket covered it. A wooden stand stood in the corner with a water basin. Unlike the barn, someone had paid attention to this room. And as Marianna stepped inside, she noticed a dresser behind the door sported a vase of wildflowers. Seeing that, Marianna stopped in her tracks and a tinge of anger rose. She didn't want to like this place, these people. Not even a little.

  But someone was making it very hard for her to stick to that.

  It took her a few hours to unpack the boxes. In that time the boys had returned and then set off again to explore the field across the road.

  "Just stay where I can see you!" Marianna called after them. Then she broke down the boxes and folded them up, carrying them to the shed for storage.

  Her father must have tackled the small shed first, because whe
n she entered it was as neat as a pin. On a tall shelf sat a jar of liniment and braided rope for the horse. On two nails he'd hung extra horseshoes. And next to that hung a calendar from a local bank. A photo of tall mountains and a lake decorated this month. It wasn't until she read the name Lake Kookanusa on the border that she realized it was the lake they'd passed to get to the West Kootenai. I really live here—in this beautiful place.

  She set the boxes in the corner and, as she was leaving the room, a sharp ringing filled the air. Marianna jumped and her heart lodged in her throat. She turned and looked to the phone, wondering what she should do. It rang again and she stepped out the door, scanning their property to see if her father happened to be there. He was nowhere in sight.

  She walked back in the shed as the phone rang a third time. Even though she'd called out many times on a phone, she'd never answered one. With a trembling hand she picked up the receiver. "Hello?"

  "Ah-ha, caught you." It was Ben's voice.

  "Excuse me?"

  He laughed."I thought you wouldn't use the phone."

  "Well, I wasn't going to. But it rang, and I didn't know what to do." She kicked the hay with her foot, trying not to laugh with him.

  "I found out I'm going to Eureka tomorrow. I wanted to see if you or someone needed a ride."

  She paused for a minute. It would be good to get some groceries. Tonight they'd finish off the rest of the food they'd packed for the train. Still, she was certain they could get some things at the Kootenai store. "Oh, no, I don't think so. We—" She couldn't think of an excuse not to go.

  "I'm not charging. Just being neighborly."

  "Thank you. I appreciate that, but I think it will take us a few days to figure out what we need."

  "Sure, let me know." Ben's voice held a hint of disappointment. "There's a larger grocery store, a hardware store, and a fabric store."

  "Fabric store?" A soft breath escaped her lips. She did need fabric for the back panel and batting for the quilt face she'd brought along.

  "Yes, many of the ladies around here like to go there."

  "I'd love to. Sometime, but not tomorrow." She fiddled with the cord to the phone.

  "Another time then." Ben was quiet, waiting for her to respond.

  Her fingers fiddled with the phone, and she hoped this wasn't going to be a regular occurrence, him calling. She hated the fact they had a phone, but appreciated he'd thought to call. She also was excited there was a fabric store, but at the same time she was overwhelmed thinking of all they yet had to do. She still hadn't figured out what to do for baths and laundry. Nor was she comfortable with the fact that her brothers would be heading off to school so soon, or that Ben had showed them the way.

  "Yes, another time. Thank you." She hung up the phone before Ben could start talking about other things. And before she got fond of hearing his voice on the other end.

  Marianna curled to her side and willed the heat from the wood stove to travel under the door. As soon as the sun set, the night had turned cold, and she hadn't packed enough warm things and only had one extra blanket. Her arms were weary from unpacking and from carrying warm water from the large heating kettle outside to the round tub in the bathroom.

  Dat had gone to the grocery store for a few things, and after dinner she'd attempted to write a letter but couldn't get her mind to focus on the page. Instead, she'd pulled her quilt out of the box and eyed the pattern of the horse in the center and the loops and roses around the edge. One of the first pictures Aaron had drawn for her had been a horse like this, so it seemed only fitting to choose this for their quilt.

  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 m
e." 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?