Beside Still Waters (A Big Sky)

by Tricia Goyer

  "Actually, I do." She met the surprise in his gaze with a smile. "When Charlie was hurt, I found myself praying. The words just came out . . . and I felt Him, Ben. God was there."

  "Good." He smiled as if she'd just figured out a secret he'd known all along. "Can I pray for you too? Can I pray that God will continue to lift your burdens? Your mom's burdens?"

  She nodded. "Yes." And then she stretched out her hand to him, knowing she needed this. And as Ben prayed for healing, for releasing of all the pain of the past, a new sensation came over her. She felt his touch—his hand on hers. But she felt something more too.

  A sweet, deep peace, like still waters, in her soul. The same type of peace as before, but this time a united peace. God wasn't just with her. He was with them.

  Tears filled her eyes once more.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Marianna held the printed out confirmation of her train ticket in her hand and stood before the boxes of her things. She heard footsteps behind her and saw that it was Dat, entering the room.

  "I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't go now. Mom has the baby and well, Charlie needs so much extra care."

  Dat inclined his head. "Some of our neighbors—both Amish and Englisch—have already offered to take shifts. And." He stepped forward and placed an arm around her shoulders. "I hear the Peachy girls are going to come help out. Thank you for doing that for Mem."

  "Only for a few weeks. I wish it was longer, but I used some of that money to pay Annie back for the deposit she gave me on the quilt." She stood, looking at her boxes. They held nearly the same things she'd packed when she came, except that the quilt was finished now. Marianna decided not to sell it to Annie. She decided not to keep it either.

  She had yet another plan for the quilt.

  But unlike her boxes, Marianna carried within her so much more than when she arrived. So much she couldn't explain. More peace than she'd ever had.

  More questions too.

  "Didja ever think when you left Indiana that you'd hesitate about returning?"

  Dat's question brought a sad smile. "It's not that I'm hesitating about going back to Indiana. I'm just questioning if I should be so selfish and think about myself and not what my mother needs."

  "I think what your mother needs most is peace of mind that you are following God's call for your life." Her father ran a hand down his face, and she could tell the words were hard for him to say. "As much as we'd love to have you here, you have a life of your own that you need to start. If Aaron Zook is the man you love and want to spend the rest of your life with, as you keep saying, then you need to go there. It's what we've always wanted for our daughter. To find a good man. To start a good home."

  Marianna nodded, but her mind was no longer on Aaron Zook. It was Ben's face, his smile, that filled her mind. She thought of the way he'd cared for Charlie after the accident. The way he'd dropped everything to help her family. She smiled, remembering the way he'd returned over the last few days to check on her brother, and the way he held Joy in his arms and prayed over her. She also thought of the feeling of his arms around her that night at the restaurant. His hands over hers on the guitar.

  Tingles danced up and down her arms, and she opened her eyes, shocked she'd let her mind go there. Yes, she needed to leave. There was no question now. Aaron was waiting, and that was a good thing. But even more important, she'd be leaving Ben—locking the door on her wayward emotions. To continue to entertain those thoughts meant to turn her back on everything she believed in and lived for. He was Englisch. He was forbidden. And he was here.

  Which meant she had to board that train.

  "That does make me feel better that our neighbors are going to help Mem." Marianna forced a smile. "It gives me a peace of mind to be heading back."

  Her father's eyes searched hers, and she hoped he couldn't see what she really felt. The pain of leaving the people she'd grown to care for so much. And the question burning at her.

  If it was Aaron that she loved.

  "Do you smell that?" Uncle Ike sniffed the air. He'd come to join them for Marianna's good-bye dinner. And while she appreciated it, Marianna wished Ben would have come too. Wished she'd had a chance to tell him good-bye.

  Charlie elbowed David. "I told ya that you should shower. The smell must be you."

  "Oh, c'mon." David rustled Charlie's hair, then he sniffed the air. "It's not me. Smells like smoke."

  "It does." Uncle Ike looked out the kitchen window and scanned the horizon.

  "Do you think someone's burning a slash pile?" Dat asked.

  "Hope not. It's high fire warning. And if a forest fire started . . ." Ike didn't need to finish for worry to flash across all the faces circled around Marianna.

  "We should head out and see." Dat rose from the dinner table and moved to the front porch. The rest of the family followed.

  "Look!" Mem pointed to a column of smoke rising into the air.

  "That looks like it's comin' from Carashes' place." Dat jogged down the porch steps and hurried up the road. Ike and David followed. Marianna quickened her pace to keep up with them. Mem stayed behind with the little ones and Charlie.

  They hurried up the dirt road, crested the top of it, and turned a bend. It was then Marianna spotted the flames, bright orange flickering the Carashes' barn. Mr. Carash was trying to put it out with a garden hose. The rest of his family watched helplessly.

  "Someone needs to call the fire department in Eureka!" Dat called out. Without hesitation David ran back toward home. Toward the shed.

  "They won't get here. Not in time." Uncle Ike shook his head.

  "Mari, why don't you head back and tell Mem it's the barn," Dat said. "We'll see what we can do to help."

  Marianna nodded, not wanting to turn back. Tears filled her eyes as she thought of her friends' loss. And then the tears came even faster when she realized they were her friends. She knew them, cared for them. She talked to Mrs. Carash every time she came in the store.

  Marianna wiped her face and then hurried back toward their house. Fear softened her knees. Her mother and Charlie were waiting on the porch when she returned. David exited the shed and said the fire department was on its way, but it would be forty-five minutes at least.

  Charlie looked at her, wide-eyed. "What are they going to do until the fire truck comes?"

  Marianna cleared her throat and sniffed, trying to be brave for her brothers but not doing a very good job at it. "I suppose they'll have to watch it burn."

  Another loss. Another heartache. Things like this happened in Indiana too. So why, this time, did it hurt so much?

  Marianna moved to the porch and Trapper jumped into her lap. Not knowing what else to do, Marianna turned to what was becoming as natural as breathing. She prayed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Twice during the night Marianna walked up the hill, only to have her heart broken even more to see the barn burn. Even when the fire department arrived, they could only wet down the area around the fire to make sure it didn't spread. The barn was already too far gone.

  Mr. Carash had managed to get his livestock out of the barn. The cow was found in a nearby pasture, but the Carashes' three horses had run off. A dozen men from the community had gone into the forest to help find them. Including Dat and David. Including Ben. They'd been gone all night and hadn't returned. She'd walked down to the Carashes' house one last time, just in case they were there. They weren't. Ben's truck sat parked not far from the burned down barn.

  Marianna took a deep breath of the Montana air, now filled with smoke. She looked to her watch—a parting present from Edgar. If she didn't leave soon, she'd be late for the train.

  As Marianna hurried back toward their house, she saw Annie was already there. Her small, blue car was parked outside.

  Inside she found Annie sitting at the table with Mem. They were drinking tea and talking about the rebuilding of the Carashes' barn. They talked as if they were old friends, and Mem seemed content as she bounced Joy
on her knee. There were toys scattered on the floor from the older kids, and dishes in the sink, but Mem didn't seem to mind. She was just enjoying Annie's contagious smile.

  Annie turned as Marianna came in. "There you are. I thought maybe you'd changed your mind."

  Marianna crossed her arms over her chest and then readjusted her kapp. "No, just checking on everyone before I left."

  "Did you see them? Are they coming?"

  "No, Mem." Marianna sighed. "I'll go to the neighbors when I get to Indiana and call Dat just to let him know I'm okay." She shrugged. "I hate good-byes."

  "It's not a good-bye." Her mother rose and moved to her. "It's a see you later, ja?"

  Marianna stroked Joy's soft cheek. "Yes, of course. Who knows, maybe I'll even make the trip back for Christmas."

  "Your Aunt Ida won't like that. Not one bit." Mem grinned.

  Marianna smiled. "I know. But it's okay. She'll just have to accept it."

  "Did you get a chance to talk to Ben yesterday?" Annie jingled her keys in her hand.

  "Ben?" Marianna felt her forehead fold.

  "When he left the store yesterday, he told me he was on his way over here. Maybe he went to help at the fire instead."

  "Yes, I think he did." Marianna crossed her arms over her chest. "But when you see him will you say good-bye for me? And"—she hurried to the box sitting next to the couch—"will you give him this?"

  Marianna pulled the quilt from the box. She'd stayed up late the last two nights finishing it.

  Annie's eyes widened. "Your quilt? Are you sure?"

  Mem cleared her throat. "Mari, really? I don't think—"

  "For his help. He's been so kind. The way he helped with Charlie—and in other ways." She thought of their talks about God, about the Bible. And his prayers . . . But she said none of those things. Instead, she met her mother's still-suspicious gaze. "My motives are pure."

  Mem looked at her, staring deep into her eyes as if trying to determine the truth. Moisture filled her eyes as if she was realizing the reality of Marianna's leaving. Or maybe . . .

  Maybe she saw within Marianna's gaze that her daughter's motives weren't as pure as either hoped.

  "You've always had a kind heart." Mem rose and turned to the window, gazing out at the mountains in the distance. The message was clear. She didn't agree with Marianna, but she didn't object either.

  Marianna turned back to her boss. Make that former boss. "I hope you don't mind, Annie. I'll make you another quilt."

  Annie laughed. "I don't mind, but I'll hold you to that."

  Marianna looked to the freshly laundered quilt one last time. She looked to the stitching, remembering Ben's words: "If our Creator so carefully designed this mountain valley and filled it with such beauty, how could you not trust in His extravagant love?"

  She'd thought about those words so many times as she finished the quilt. She'd put so much care and attention into the colors, the patterns, the stitching—and it was only fabric. How much more thought and care did God put into her?

  She wasn't a replacement for her sisters and she never would be. God had a good design just for her.

  She just wished she was more confident that her design included going back to Indiana. She'd found God in a new way here. Ben had given her glimpses of the type of friend God could be. The quilt seemed so inadequate as a thank you—but it was all she had.

  She returned the quilt to the box and then hurried to her mom, pulling her into an embrace with Joy pressed between them. "I'm going to miss you . . ."

  "You don't have to go."

  "I know." Marianna swallowed. "I don't have to, but I need to. I need to go back and . . ." She couldn't finish the sentence. And see if she still fit? If Aaron still cared? To see if the presence of God that she felt by the still water of the pond could be found there, too?

  She bent down and kissed the top of Joy's soft head. "Don't grow up too fast." Then she turned and noticed Charlie, Josiah, and Ellie standing in the hall. They'd woken up to tell her good-bye after all.

  She lifted her skirt so it wouldn't tear, and then knelt on one knee, opening her arms to them. Ellie and Josiah rushed forward, and Charlie limped over to join them. "Be good for Mem and Dat, ja?"

  Even as she released them, her heart ached. Was she was making the right choice? She stood and turned away. Right or not, the decision was made.

  "I'm ready."

  They walked to Annie's car, and Annie put her boxes in the back. Marianna climbed in. Trapper whined at the door and she stroked his fur one last time. Tears filled her eyes. "I'm so sorry I have to leave you." Then she pushed him away and shut the car door, staring down the dirt road, straight ahead. She didn't look back to see if Mem and the little ones waved. She didn't let herself dwell on the fact she hadn't said a last good-bye to her father, Uncle Ike, or David. That she hadn't been able to hand the quilt to Ben herself. To see him, one last time . . .

  "If we hurry, we can make it on time." Annie started the engine, and the car picked up speed. "Sometimes the train is late. Let's hope it is by a few minutes today."

  "Yes. That'll be good."

  Marianna's hands gripped the armrest as the small car sailed over the potholes. And she lowered her head. In a strange way she'd even miss those stupid holes in the road. After all, they led her to her family.

  To her home.

  A few dozen people waited outside the station, lined up and prepared to board the train. Her boxes had already been checked, and Marianna's hands were empty except for her ticket and a small satchel her mom had packed with food for the trip.

  "I got you something." Annie held up a paper bag. "It's a new book about two boys who get lost in the woods near West Kootenai and spend the winter there. I've read it three times and thought it would keep your mind occupied during the ride."

  "Thank you." For the briefest second she remembered her dreams and her own refuge in the woods. She forgot to say good-bye to that place too.

  "Say good-bye to Edgar for me. And all the customers too." Marianna watched as the attendants opened the doors and motioned her to board.

  "Call me when you get there. Or write." Annie brushed her long blonde ponytail over her shoulder and gave Marianna a hug. "Just find a way to let me know you're okay. And come back soon with new recipes. My customers will love it!"

  Marianna nodded, sure that if she tried to respond she'd start crying.

  "Now get on, will you." Annie patted her back and gave her a push forward. "I need to get back to the store to check on Edgar. Got to make sure he didn't put the ice cream in the oven and the cookie dough in the freezer." She chuckled, and Marianna forced a smile.

  "Okay, I'll see you soon." Then, before she could change her mind, she hurried to the train, up the steps, and into the closest open seat. Her legs quivered, and her stomach felt sick. She'd left Indiana awash in anger and a feeling of injustice. But as a whistle blew, and the train prepared to pull away from the station and she turned to focus on the seatback in front of her, sadness and a deep missing of her family and her friends gripped her heart.

  "Dear God, am I doing the right thing?"

  In her mind it made sense. She smoothed her apron, and then touched her kapp. She'd grown up knowing what was right. Her whole life she'd had one goal . . . but now? Lord, I need wisdom. I need to know I'm making the right choice. Marianna closed her eyes, not wanting to see the station disappear behind her. Not wanting to see the mountains. God, if I'm making the wrong decision, please show me. She felt someone sit beside her. She thought of the man on the first train ride and her stomach clenched. Fear tightened her neck and she opened her mouth, preparing to cry for help. Then opened her eyes.

  Dat?

  Her father sat there next to her, smiling.

  "What are you doing? The train. It's going." She looked out the window and saw the station already behind them.

  "I bought a ticket. Just made it." He rubbed his beard.

  Confusion filled her mind. "You're com
ing back to Indiana with me?"

  "No, I'm not. The ticket's to West Glacier. It's about a thirty-minute ride. I thought it would give us a chance to talk. I'm sorry I wasn't there when you left."

  Her chest filled with joy. Dat was here. He'd come. She wrapped her hands around his arm. Her father sat up straighter, and though she knew physical touch wasn't common among the Amish, she didn't want to let go. She held her breath, wondering what her father would say if she told him that his being there was the answer to the prayer she'd just prayed!

  "I understand why you weren't there, Dat. With the fire and everything. Did you find the horses?" Why was she talking about that when she had a dozen other questions to ask? Why had he come? Was it just to stay good-bye?

  "We found one of the horses. Two are still lost, but there is a group still looking."

  "I'm sorry they lost their barn." Marianna knew she was rambling, but it was hard to believe her father was sitting next to her.

  "Me too, but I think they will be all right."

  "Too bad there wasn't more Amish. They could do a barn raising."

  "Oh, the people in the community are already talking about that. You know something, Mari, I don't think you have to be Amish to help your neighbor. The folks around the West Kootenai do a good job of that, Amish or not."

  "Yes, they do."

  They sat in silence for a moment, and then Dat turned to her. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

  Words crowded into her throat, then caught.

  Dat's tone softened. "Maybe you should come back home for a while. Give yourself time to think. When I saw you'd left your quilt there . . . well, I knew I had to come talk to you. You were leaving an important part of you, and I had to make sure you still felt this was right. We still have a place for you. You don't have to leave."

  "I can't go back. I'm . . ." She swallowed. Should she tell him? Should she be honest? She looked into his eyes and knew the answer. "I'm afraid."