Beside Still Waters (A Big Sky)

by Tricia Goyer

  Marianna grabbed a bottle of cold water, placing it against her neck, wondering if she could handle going out in the heat.

  Hope let out a long sigh. "Like I said, we thought you should know." Then she clasped her hands in front of her. "But what we really came in to do is look at fabric. Seeing all those quilts out there inspired us."

  "They have fabric here? I thought you had to go to Eureka for that."

  "Oh, haven't you been to the craft room? That's our favorite part of Kootenai Kraft and Grocery."

  "Can you show me?" Marianna scanned the room, wondering how she could have missed that.

  "Sure."

  They walked toward the front register, but instead of continuing toward the front door, they made a sharp left to an open doorway. Marianna was sure she'd seen the door, but she hadn't thought much of it.

  They entered, and the room was full of people, mulling over tables covered with colorful tablecloths and filled with all types of handmade crafts—aprons, grocery bag holders, pot holders, stationery, handmade soap.

  In the center of the room were two dozen bolts of fabric and bolts of quilt batting. Marianna's hand moved to the small purse she wore. She'd brought some money in case she needed food, but she hadn't realized she could get her quilting supplies here too.

  Eve and Hope oohed and ahhed over the new fabrics that had come in, trying to decide what to buy, but Marianna's eyes focused on the ideal fabric for her quilt. It was a creamy white color that almost looked like it was polka-dotted, but as she stepped closer she realized they were tiny pink rose buds. She smiled. Buds promised the bloom to come. Did she have the money to spend on it? She wanted to finish her quilt, but she also knew she needed to save as much as she could for the train ticket home.

  Hope and Eve laughed, and Marianna looked up to see them looking out the store window toward a group of Amish men. She could see from their shaved faces they were bachelors. They'd gathered near some log furniture that would soon be auctioned off.

  Only moments later the two women waved good-bye to Marianna and hurried outside. Marianna supposed that even the prettiest fabric couldn't compare to an attraction like that.

  Marianna turned to the fabric again. She picked up the edge of it, feeling it between her fingers when she saw Annie approaching.

  "Excuse me, Marianna?"

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "Oh, sweetie, you don't need to call me, ma'am. Annie is just fine."

  Marianna smiled. "Okay then."

  Annie waved a hand toward the fabric. "So, did seeing all the quilts make you want to start your own?"

  "I'm working on one already. Just need a few more things to finish." Marianna pushed the bolt back in place.

  "Good for you." Annie sighed, looking out the window and watching two women carrying quilts toward their cars. Then she turned back to Marianna. "I have no talent, and I don't even have time. For the last few years I've been wanting to get out there and bid, but I'm too busy running this place."

  Marianna looked around, noticing even more people trying to fill the small craft room.

  "You wouldn't consider selling me the quilt you're making, would you?"

  "Me?" Marianna pinched her lips together. "Well, that's very thoughtful of you to ask, but I'm keeping it for my cedar chest, back in Indiana."

  "Is that like a hope chest?" Annie stepped aside to let a woman by.

  "Yes, I suppose so, but if I make another quilt I'll let you know."

  Annie touched Marianna's arm. "Sure, honey, you do that. And . . ." She stepped closer. "There's actually something else I wanted to ask, too. I was hoping to talk to you today, and when I saw you coming in here I thought it would be the perfect time."

  Annie's face was red, no doubt from working in the kitchen, and strands of moist hair curled on her forehead, softening her features. "I was talking to your mother this morning, and she mentioned you might be looking for a job? Said something about saving up for a train ticket?"

  Marianna felt her brow lift. Even though that was the plan, she hadn't talked to her parents about it recently. If anything, she thought her parents would discourage her from working so she wouldn't be able to return home.

  "Yes, that is correct." She lifted her chin. "I hope to return to Indiana in the fall."

  Annie winked. "Your ma told me about your special friend back there, and I believe we could both help each other. I'm looking for someone to help in the bakery—for the next few months. Summer is our busy time, with all the Amish families visiting their kin and the vacationers. I can't keep up."

  Marianna forced a smile. She knew how to bake, but back home she'd enjoyed being outside, tending to the animals or in a rocking chair caring for the kids. She offered a half smile, remembering how her mother had wanted her in the kitchen more. After all, as her Grandma used to say, kissing wears out—cooking don't.

  "I'd love to help you. I'm glad my mother suggested it."

  "Oh, good. Do you think you could be here by 6 a.m. Monday?"

  Marianna's eyes widened. A job meant she could buy the fabric and still save for the ticket.

  "Yes, that will work. Is there anything I need to bring?"

  "Your skill and your smile, oh, and if you have any recipes. We're always on the lookout for new ones."

  "I have some good ones, and I brought my grandma's recipes, too."

  "Great, see you Monday."

  "See you Monday." Marianna lifted the bolt of fabric, eager to talk to Dat about a quilt frame.

  The day was turning out better than she thought.

  Marianna hadn't considered how she'd carry two large bags, filled with quilting supplies, home until she'd paid for her purchase. She'd bought her items and started the mile and a half walk, leaving the people, the smells, and the voices of the auction behind.

  She'd gotten off the main road, to the smaller road that would take her to her house when she heard the sound of a vehicle. She quickened her steps afraid to turn, wondering if that man from earlier had followed her.

  Holding her breath, she dared to turn and was thankful to see Ben's truck pulling up. Not only was it someone safe, but she could get a ride.

  She held back her smile. He'd been doing that a lot today—showing up when she needed him most. Of course, that's what one did when he was trying to get on someone's good side.

  The truck pulled up beside her, slowing down to a stop. He rolled down the window on the passenger's side. "So you need a ride?"

  She opened the door. Earlier that morning when she saw him, she'd felt nervous in his presence. But now, knowing he was being kind to her because he wanted a job took away all those butterfly feelings in her stomach. She'd let him be genial. She didn't mind the help, as long as she knew it wasn't going anywhere. "Thank you. I'd appreciate that."

  "What do you have in the bag?"

  "Fabric for my quilt. And batting too. It's not heavy, just bulky." She lifted it, showing him.

  He chuckled. "Did being at the auction today inspire you?"

  "Sort of, although I've wanted to finish my quilt for a while." She set her bags on the seat between them and closed the door.

  It wasn't more than a mile to her house, and they rode in silence. Marianna enjoyed the cool breeze through the window, and she curled her aching toes in her black shoes.

  The truck stopped in front of the house, and as she climbed out she heard Trapper's bark. Marianna turned and looked toward the shed area and beyond it to where the mangy mutt exploded from the trees, like a furry ball from a cannon. Within seconds he was at her feet, a wagging fuzz ball.

  "I see you have a friend there."

  "If that's what you call him." She chuckled.

  "He's excited to see you."

  "He always is." She sighed, trying to hide her smile. Trapper yipped and then looked at her, his head tilted and ears cocked. Large dark eyes softened her heart. She enjoyed being sought out, even if it was by a flea-bitten stray.

  "Come here, boy." Ben whistled, and the do
g bolted around the truck.

  "You know him?" She slammed the door shut.

  "Well, I did. I thought he left with the Litwillers when they moved east." Ben climbed from the truck, then sighed. "Although I can see why they didn't take him."

  "What do you mean?" She walked around the truck and watched as Ben squatted down and scratched the dog behind his ears.

  "It was their oldest daughter, Patty's dog. She was almost your age when she passed away."

  "She died?"

  "Yes, a boating accident. A group of young people were crossing the lake in their rowboat when a large motorized boat hit them. Everyone else was okay, but Patty didn't know how to swim."

  "That's so sad." Marianna placed a hand over her chest. She could understand far better than Ben knew. For the second time today the loss of her sisters struck deep. A deep ache pulled at her stomach, and she looked at the mutt with new compassion. "I imagine my room used to be hers. No wonder the poor animal reacted in such a way."

  "For a while after she died, this doggy would sit on the shore, waiting for Patty to cross back over. He used to wait there, you see, when she and her friends went on the lake. He was too hyper for them to take, so he'd sit at the shore and wait."

  "Didn't Patty's parents bring him back here? Bring him home?"

  "They tried many times, but he went back to the lake. Many other folks around here tried, too, but he'd run away and head back to the shore. I haven't seen him since the Litwillers left." Ben turned his attention back to the dog. "Looks like you've been on your own for a little while, a little skinny and dirty."

  "You should have seen him before we gave him a bath. We've done our best to clean him up, and he seems pretty happy here."

  "So your parents don't mind a surprise addition to your family?"

  "Well, Trapper's never given us a choice."

  Ben lifted his head and his blue eyes twinkled. "That's a nice thing to do. I'm sure Trapper would love to have a family again."

  A lump grew in Marianna's throat as she imagined the little dog waiting on the shore by the lake. Her heart ached as she thought about all her friends and family she'd left behind, but at least she understood what was happening. The poor little dog had no idea. All he knew was that someone he loved wasn't around anymore.

  "So I have to ask, what was his name before? What did Patty call him?"

  Ben pinched his lips together as if trying to remember and then he nodded. "Oh, I remember now. She called him Monty—short for Montana. They moved here, too, when she was a teenager, and she loved the place. She said as soon as she got here, it felt like home."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Marianna awoke and yawned, remembering it was Sunday off. Since they only met every other week, today they didn't have church. Usually she enjoyed the day off from church, but today she woke with an unsettled feeling.

  What was wrong? Was she bothered because of that man at the auction? She'd spent the rest of yesterday watching, hoping not to see him. But she hadn't. And by the time she came home, she'd all but forgotten about him.

  She turned to her side and noticed the bags of fabric that she'd soon pull out. She also spotted Trapper lying on the braided rag-rug on her floor. He must have heard her stirring because he opened one eye and yawned. Then seeing she wasn't out of bed, Trapper closed his eyes again, content to wait.

  Closing her eyes, she searched through her mind. Why this strange feeling? So many good things had happened yesterday too. Annie from the grocery, and the young girls at the lemonade stand. And Ben . . .

  Her eyes open. Ben. That's where the uneasiness originated.

  For as long as she could remember, the leaders of the church had told her she was privileged to be Amish, and that the world outside the Amish was evil and corrupt. That was easy to believe when she spent most of her time within her community. She attended church with people she'd known her whole life. All her neighbors were Amish. She'd done most of her shopping at an Amish store. Rarely had she taken trips to Englisch shopping centers. Only once—when she was eight—had they gone on vacation outside of Indiana, and she hadn't dared to look too long at the Englisch, let alone speak to them.

  But now . . .

  Now that she was getting to know them, something didn't seem right. She'd grown up without questioning that the Amish were the only ones with the real chance to get into heaven, but now she couldn't help wondering. What about everyone else? They were good people. It was plain to see. Didn't God see that too?

  She sat up, fluffed her pillow, and then settled her scarved head against it.

  Not that she would be prideful enough to say she'd go to heaven for sure. She'd done her best and tried to follow all the rules. She said her daily prayers, was humble, and always followed the Ordnung. She'd obeyed her mother and father—even choosing to come here and leave her friends and family and Aaron behind. She'd done all she knew, but it was still God's decision to choose whether she entered His kingdom. But at least she had a chance. What about everyone else? If God was a God of love, it didn't seem fair they had no opportunity.

  Perhaps what bothered her even more were her thoughts of Levi. Since he was in the ban, she knew he was cut off from God. Her mother and father never spoke of his fate, but she knew—everyone knew—that if Levi died this day, it would doom his soul to hell and he'd have no chance of salvation. Her heart ached at the thought.

  As she lay there, she could hear her parents stirring in the kitchen. The scent of bacon mixed with the aroma of coffee, and if she closed her eyes she could almost imagine she was ten again. A bird sung somewhere outside the window, and she thought of the birds back home. Some things were different—too many things—but she was thankful some things were the same.

  "So they're asking you to preach in a couple months?" Her mother's voice carried through the open door. "I don't know what type of backwoods place you brought me to, Abe Sommer, but it seems to me these Amish like being away from the bishops. Thata way they don't have to follow the Ordnung to a T."

  "They're laid back and relaxed, that's all. They have plans for a bishop coming. They've had them before, but after the last one left they haven't found a good replacement. Give it time. It'll happen."

  "Yes, well, as far as I'm concerned the Bible says nothing about relaxing your way into heaven. As far as I remember, God's Word talks about putting your hand to the plow and not looking back."

  "Didn't you see, there's no plow around here." Dat spoke in a playful tone, and Marianna imagined the twinkle in his eye.

  "I still don't like it. You getting that English Bible and all."

  Marianna stood and walked to the doorway, standing against the wall. She didn't want them to know she overheard, but she couldn't make herself close the door.

  "I can't read German well, and I do have to preach . . ." She heard Dat shift in his chair. "And have you ever thought Jesus didn't speak German? Where did one get the idea that's the only language for Scripture?"

  Marianna's door opened wider, and she jumped. She looked down to see Trapper sticking his nose out, trying to open the door the rest of the way to get out.

  "Shhh!" Marianna reached back and pulled him back into her room, but it was too late.

  "That you, Mari?"

  Mem had heard her. Marianna tightened the belt on her bathrobe and then walked into the kitchen. "Good morning."

  "It is a good morning." Dat nodded and smiled, but when she looked to the table she saw his German Bible sitting there. Where was the English one they'd talked about?

  "Marianna," her mother said. "There's a letter from Mrs. Zook. It arrived in the mail yesterday, and I forgot to show you last night."

  "For me?" Marianna rubbed her forehead.

  Mem shook her head. "Well, she wrote to our family but she wishes you a happy birthday."

  Marianna looked to the open letter at the table and then sat. Her mother continued to make breakfast and her father flipped through his German Bible, but she could tell they both
waited for her to read the letter. Waited for her reaction.

  June 15

  Dear Friends,

  Greetings in love. I was hoping to write in time for Marianna's birthday, but even though the summer days are long I did not get it done. Thank you for your note from Montana, Ruth. It was thoughtful you had us in mind. Montana does sound like a beautiful place. I can't imagine living by mountains like that.

  Many people have heard that things are quite different there than here. We heard your new church does not have a bishop. I hope this matter is taken care of soon. Bishops are not perfect people, but their authority is necessary. We also were surprised that Abe was already put into the rotation to preach. He wasn't yet a deacon here, and now he'll speak in front of the church? Do you worry you are not really honoring our fathers and mothers like the sixth commandment says in the Ten Commandments if you do not stay with the system of leadership we have been taught?

  It is still not too late to return to Indiana. The Mosers have not married yet and your house remains vacant. Perhaps it would be a fitting birthday gift for Marianna? Please come back. We miss you and are praying for you.

  Aaron is doing well. He finished the roof on his cabin. I wish Marianna had a chance to see it before she left. Please tell her to write. I would enjoy a letter.

  With fondness,

  Mrs. Norma Jean Zook

  Marianna put down the letter and then looked at her parents. "It sounds like there's a lot of rumors going around back there." She glanced at Dat.

  "Not rumors if they're true," Mem said, whipping up pancake batter in her large white bowl. She didn't look at Marianna, she didn't have to. Marianna knew she felt conflicted about going back.