Beside Still Waters (A Big Sky)

by Tricia Goyer

  An angry electricity flashed between her parents. Months ago the tension had been over them coming. Now it seemed it had shifted to the idea of them staying. Until today Marianna had believed her father when he'd said they'd only come for a year. But it seemed the community members were hearing otherwise.

  And the frightening thing was, as they continued down the road, listening to the squeak of the buggy as it rolled along, Dat didn't deny that claim.

  Dear Mari,

  It was strange to address this letter and know that it was going to find you at another place. My intent is to wish you a Happy Birthday and to let you know how your old brother is doing. I'm fine I suppose. I've been better. I wanted you to know first that I broke off my relationship with Naomi. I've been thinkin' a lot of what you said that night a month ago, and I realized it is the truth. Naomi wouldn't think of leaving if it weren't for me. She's a nice girl, but I keep wondering what would happen to her if things don't work out with us. I'd hate to put her into the position of having to go back to her family home in shame. She says I broke her heart, but she'd find a new suitor. I don't have a doubt about that. Philip Beiler has always fancied her, and he's already been baptized into the church.

  Write and let me know how things are. I got a new job, and I still have my friends, but my heart feels like it's only hanging by a thin string every time I think Dat, Mem, you, and the kids aren't at the place. I've tried twice to drive by but turned around. It makes me happy to know you'll be around before long, and I'll be able to throw gravel at Aunt Ida's window.

  Tell David he's the man under Dat now.

  Your brother,

  Levi

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The air was cold and the first rays of sunlight crept over the mountains. Today would be a big day at the auction. Dat was excited that one of the log cabins he'd worked on would be auctioned off.

  More than once she'd also heard him telling Mem, "Just wait. Don't get mad at me for wanting to stay longer than a year until you spend a day with the community. Until you see for yourself what Ike's been talking about, and what I've been witnessing at work."

  It seemed Dat counted on this day making Mem like it here so much she wouldn't want to go back. The only problem was, Mem had volunteered to help with the food, and to Marianna that didn't sound like an enjoyable way to spend the day.

  Marianna's small purse rested on her lap. In it was the money she'd saved up from caring for Mrs. Ropp's kids. She guessed she'd need money for food, and it would be nice to have it if something else caught her eye.

  She sat on the porch fiddling with a long stick between her fingers. Trapper sat at her feet, his eyes focused on the stick. She twitched it to the left and his eyes followed. She lifted it a few inches, and he took a step back, waiting to run after it as soon as it was thrown.

  "Want it?" She grinned and lifted it over her head, then she turned her body to the right, launching the stick in the direction of the barn. Trapper bounded after it and returned a moment later, setting it at her feet. She picked it up again, but her mind wasn't on their game. Her mind wasn't even on the morning's auction. Instead, it was on the letter Uncle Ike had brought in last night from town.

  Marianna had read Levi's letter a dozen times, and each time the ache of missing him deepened. Growing up they'd never been close. Levi had been quick to pull her hair, throw rocks at her on the way home from school, push her into the creek, and then laugh as she scrambled up the muddy bank. But that was then. Things had changed since they'd gotten older, and not seeing him much over the last year had made her miss him in ways she hadn't expected.

  Her heart ached for Naomi too. Marianna thought back to the excited look in Naomi's face over her hopes of being with Levi. Though they both would have broken hearts for a while, Marianna knew he was doing the right thing. And there was something else: Clearly, Levi knew the Amish way was right. Otherwise he wouldn't have made the sacrifice for Naomi to stay. Marianna had thought about sharing the letter with her parents. Maybe it would give them hope. But instead she folded it up and placed it in the dresser drawer underneath her underclothes. They hadn't mentioned Levi since they left, and she didn't want to be the one to sour their moods.

  The sound of the horse's hooves and the crunch of the wheels on the road, alerted her to the buggy's approach.

  She rose, grabbing her purse, and led Trapper to the house, putting him inside. He whined at the door wanting to stay out, but she knew better. More than once he'd followed the buggy to town, darting around the slow moving buggies and cars. She couldn't risk that. There would be too many automobiles, too many distracted people today. As much as she found the dog a hassle, she was also getting used to having him around.

  Since she had to be there before anyone else, Uncle Ike said he'd give her a ride. He must have noticed her introspective mood when she climbed into the buggy, but he didn't mention it. Instead, he filled the silence with information about the day.

  "You're not going to believe it when you see it. I think this is going to be the biggest auction yet. There are two large fields filled with RVs. Annie at the store told me last night she's met folks from Washington State, North Dakota, and even New York."

  "They all come here? For this?"

  "Ja, partly for the items, and partly for the event. When yer Aunt Ida heard about the price some of these quilts fetch, she sent me four of hers. Said she could only get half as much back in Indiana."

  "Did you bring the quilts?" Marianna looked to the seat behind her, but didn't see them.

  "Oh, I dropped them off last week. They need them that soon to get ready. Each quilt will get a number, and they make up a sheet of all of them, jest so people can see who made them and where they came from."

  As they neared the store, Marianna could see that Uncle Ike wasn't joking about all the people. They rolled over the hill, and she saw cars already parked on the side of the road. The sun still hadn't crested over the mountains, yet there was already a line of folks who'd parked and were walking toward the store.

  When they neared, Marianna noticed there was only one other buggy parked near the auction area.

  "Where is everyone? Did the Amish forget to show up at their own event?" She chuckled, feeling the sadness of Levi's letter give away to the excitement of the day.

  "No. I believe almost everyone will be out in these parts today. Most of them walk, though, since it's close. Or ride their bicycles."

  Marianna cocked an eyebrow, not wanting to tell her uncle what she thought about that. Bicycles were another thing that hadn't been permitted in their Indiana community. Everyone, it seemed, rode them here.

  After Uncle Ike parked, she hurried to the store where she was supposed to meet Mrs. Shelter. Entering the front door, she looked around for the woman and then heard voices in the restaurant. Turning the corner near the wood stove, Marianna stopped short. Dozens and dozens of quilts were laid out. The room was filled with color, and Marianna couldn't help but draw in a deep breath, placing a hand over her heart at the bright beauty in the room.

  The Amish had many rules about their dress. They even had rules about keeping a plain home, but one place the women enjoyed expressing their artistic nature, and their creativity, was in their quilts. She'd never seen so many at one time. Never seen so much color and design swirled together.

  "Here's another of my helpers." Deborah Shelter approached and took Marianna's hand into her thin ones. "I'll need your help taking these quilts to the main auction ring. Each quilt has a number on it, telling you which order. You have one job most important."

  "And what is that?" Marianna looked around, seeing the others were also listening.

  Mrs. Shelter's lips slipped into a thin smile. "Make sure they don't drag on the ground."

  "Yes, of course." She chuckled.

  After being schooled on the system, Marianna gathered up three quilts, protected in clear plastic bags. The one on the top was a blue and cream Boston Commons quilt similar to one Reb
ecca had on her bed. Seeing it, an unexpected longing flooded her. The day would be fun, she was sure. But how much more fun would it be to experience with a friend. Marianna hadn't heard from Rebecca since she'd arrived, and a heaviness weighed her steps.

  As she transported the quilts outside, the warm June air carried with it scents of pine needles and a hint of the light morning rain that had blown away, over the mountains, much to the thankfulness of those attending the auction. The sound of a vehicle echoed through trees and from the corner of her eye she spotted a small, yellow truck with a blue camper on the back pulling in behind the store. Her steps slowed when she saw Ben driving. He waved and smiled, and then jumped out of the driver's door nearly the same instant the truck came to a stop.

  "Hello there, Marianna. I'm glad you could be here for your first auction . . . but you're dragging."

  "Oh no!" Marianna looked down and sure enough the quilts were dragging. She lifted them up, thankful the plastic still protected them.

  Today Ben wore a red plaid shirt rolled up to his elbows. He looked like a lumberjack. Yet, he wasn't like any mountain man she'd met yet, and unlike any Amish man either. It was his confident steps that impressed her most—like he owned the ground he walked on. And then there was his eyes, crystal blue like the Indiana sky after a spring rain.

  His smile broadened. "Here, let me take those. I don't want to hear that tongue lashing you're going to get when Deborah sees that plastic dragging. I think you managed to get a little mud on the plastic, but it's not anything we can't clean up."

  "Thank you." Heat rose to Marianna's cheeks. "I'm so sorry." She allowed him to take the quilts from her.

  "No worries. I have some old towels in the back of my truck. I'll wipe all the mud off the plastic, and she'll never know." He winked and then hurried to the truck.

  Marianna wondered if she should follow him or stay where she was. Her eyes fixed on the man carrying the quilts with a hop in his step, and her feet felt as if they were glued to the ground. She wanted to follow him, wanted to strike up a conversation. She wanted to see him chuckle the way he had the day they'd first met, and that was the problem. She'd never thought much about the Englisch and especially had never wanted to spend time with one of them as she did with Ben.

  He opened the back of the truck and used an old towel to wipe off the mud and then turned with a smile. He looked taller than she remembered, and for the first time she noticed a dimple in his chin.

  "Thank you for saving me." She smiled back.

  She hadn't seen him since that day he'd driven them from the train station. Hadn't talked to him since he'd called on the phone, offering her a ride to Eureka. Thinking back, she wished she'd accepted his offer. Being here at the auction gave her a longing to finish her own quilt. Would it be too forward to ask if she could get a ride into Eureka the next time he went to town?

  Ben carried the quilts for Marianna and then headed to the farthest auction ring where two other Amish women were setting up displays.

  Numerous buyers were already there—mostly Englisch—looking over the quilts, studying their design, and taking notes on their favorites. As soon as her quilts were hung, Marianna thanked Ben for his help. But when she turned back to the store to get more, instead of heading off in a different direction, Ben followed.

  "So do you quilt?"

  She liked the way he matched his stride to hers. "I do. I have one I'm trying to finish."

  "Too bad you couldn't have gotten it done before the auction. You probably could have fetched a good price for it. I'm sure it's nice."

  "I like it, although it's not as fancy as some of these. I thought about finishing it, too, but I haven't had much time, helping around the house and all. But even if I had finished, I wouldn't sell it. I've decided to keep it." She didn't want to tell him she wanted it for her cedar chest, for her future home—a home not in Montana.

  "I was sort of surprised to see you helping." He chuckled. "You've hardly arrived, and they've already put you to work." He slowed his pace, as if not wanting them to get to the store too soon.

  "I like work. I'm used to it. As my grandmother always told me, idle hands lead to the devil's work."

  "Yeah, my grandma used to say the same thing, but I didn't quite believe it. She always wanted me to help her pick beans, but as a twelve-year-old I thought the devil's work sounded more fun."

  "Did you grow up around here?"

  "No, not at all. I grew up in Southern California, as different as can be from this area."

  "Sunny?"

  "Yes, and busy. Cars filled the roadways and there are people everywhere."

  "So how did you end up here of all places?" Marianna clasped her hands in front of her, listening.

  "I first came two years ago to do some brush clearing for the Forest Service. It sounded like a fun summer job for a city guy. My dad didn't want me to go, but my mom convinced him I just needed to go away for a while and find myself. I felt different being here, but when I went home . . ." He lowered his head. "Well, some things happened that changed my life. Some bad things. I knew if I stayed where I was, I'd get into more trouble, so I ran." He spread his arms. "And this is where I came."

  "It sounds like this place is special to you." She paused her steps. She knew she should reach for the door, enter, and continue her work, but something inside urged her to stay for just another minute. She enjoyed talking to Ben. Felt like he had nothing to hide.

  "The place is special, but mostly because how it turns my thoughts." He looked around them. "When I look at mountains like that, I have to believe there is a God who is caring, artistic, and a bit on the wild side. I wanted to get to know more of His heart and knew this was the place to do it."

  She paused and looked at him out of the corner of her eye. Goosebumps rose on her arms. The way he talked about God was so . . . moving. Confusing. Disturbing.

  All of the above.

  Sometimes at home her parents mentioned things they were thankful for. But to talk about God this way, with such . . . passion and vulnerability?

  Never.

  For the most part, she heard about God when she was at church. Even at home they always prayed silently. Marianna thought about the woman on the train. Like her, Ben talked as if God was a friend he'd see later that afternoon. It was all so confusing!

  Time to change the subject. "So do you work now?"

  "I do. I've done some logging. I deliver log furniture, and lately I've been a driver for a few Amish families. What I'd really like to do is get more steady work—like building log homes. My dream is to buy some property and build a place of my own."

  Marianna nodded, and her mind took her back to Aaron. A pang of regret struck her heart . . . she should have gone to see his cabin. Did he still work on it? Still think of her? She'd only written him one letter since arriving. She needed to write more. Maybe later today she'd write and tell him about the auction.

  They continued to put out more quilts in the main auction ring, Ben walking alongside her, carrying them and helping to display them, as if that had been his plan all along. Other ladies also helped put up displays, including Eve and Hope Peachy. They wore matching light blue dresses that looked new, and Marianna wondered if they'd been sewn for this occasion. As she worked, Marianna couldn't help but notice the eyes of the other ladies on her and Ben.

  Marianna rubbed her eyebrows, knowing why. She was an Amish girl spending all this time with an Englisch guy.

  She spread out the quilt in her hands and turned to see Hope talking and whispering to another girl, looking their direction. Marianna felt as if her collar was rubbing, and she ran a finger along her neck. It's not like she asked Ben to join her. It wasn't even as if she needed his help. She'd answered a few of his questions, and then asked a few of her own. She turned back to the store for the second time, and he trailed her, just like Trapper did at home. Tension built in her shoulders and she paused her steps.

  Ben stopped beside her. "Is everything all
right?" Ben stopped beside her.

  "Actually, no." She crossed her arms, refusing to look back over her shoulder.

  "What's wrong? Did you put the wrong numbers on those quilts?"

  "I was just hoping to finish my work alone." The words slipped out of her mouth, and Marianna couldn't believe she said them.

  He looked to her and a puzzled expression filled his face. "Wait a minute, it's because I'm not Amish, isn't it?"

  "Well, it's not only that. It's just that mostly folks don't spend time together talking like this unless they have intentions." Her cheeks warmed at speaking of such things.

  "You mean guys and girls can't just be friends?" Ben took a step closer to her and leaned down, his voice almost a whisper. "Is that why we're getting all these looks?"

  "It's not how things work. It was the same way back in Indiana. Men have their work and women have theirs. And, well, single men and women really don't spend time together unless they're courting."

  "Maybe we should start courting. That'll fix it."

  Marianna's eyes widened and laughter spilled from Ben's lips. She refused to respond to his joke and instead took a step backward. "Don't you have other work you need to do?" She looked around, eyeing the men who were hauling log furniture. "There has to be other more exciting things to do around here—other than hanging out with me."

  "But you make me laugh." Ben stood with his feet planted. He seemed to have no intentions of heading off to find something else to do.

  "Excuse me?" The words came out a whisper.

  "I'm serious. You made me laugh the first time I saw you, demanding that baggage worker on the train climb in there and get your box. And your insistence that you weren't going to use the phone . . ." Ben ran a hand through his short brown hair and smiled, as if replaying the memory in his mind.