Beside Still Waters (23 page)

"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.

More Englisch had arrived and filed in the gate. They, for the most part, seemed oblivious to the Amish girl talking to the Englisch guy, but for the tension she felt, it was as if she stood in the middle of them naked. She knew she should dismiss his statement and walk away, but something inside her wanted clarification.

Marianna jutted out her chin. "But those things aren't funny."

"Not really." He crossed his arms over his chest. "But in a way, they are. I don't know much about the Amish, you're right, but I did have my ideas. I have to admit part of me wasn't looking forward to going to the train station to pick up your family. I expected everyone to be somber and quiet. I thought you'd jump if I spoke to you and that you'd be afraid to look me in the eye. I was surprised—and glad—to find I was wrong."

"Maybe I should have been more like that. The way, well, the way we've been acting this morning isn't really acceptable." She looked over Ben's shoulder at the Peachy girls, who had finished with the quilts and were now handing out a handwritten list of auction items, which someone had photocopied for them.

"I see." Ben looked behind him and followed her gaze. "That's a bummer then."

A . . .
bummer?
Marianna couldn't help but lift her lips slightly. She'd never heard the word before, but she could easily guess what it meant. "Really, why is it a bummer?"

"Because a month ago I loved this area. Everything about it. But it wasn't until you showed up I realized even a place as wonderful as this could get better."

This definitely had to stop! "Yes, well, thank you then."

Before he could speak another word, Marianna spun on her heel and hurried to the store—and, she hoped, safety. She didn't need to hear more—especially considering everything inside her felt lighter. And she couldn't deny the reason.

It was because of Ben's words.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Pay no attention to his words!

All day long Ben's words had kept drifting through her mind. And all day long Marianna had scolded herself. Ben was just being nice. Just being a friend. He didn't mean anything by what he said. He couldn't.

She tried to enjoy the biggest day of the year in the West Kootenai. For a while she walked around with Dat, who carried Ellie on his shoulders and held Josiah's hand. That lasted a few hours until both kids grew tired, and Dat decided to take them home for naps.

After he'd left, she walked around the place alone, watching the people. And—though she didn't want to admit she was doing so—keeping an eye out for Ben. It was maddening! The number of people and all they were doing made her senses ten times more sensitive than ever before. Three auctions took place simultaneously. Unlike back home the auctioneers were Amish. One man was the best. He spoke loud, describing the auction items with fervor. A crowd gathered, their faces brightening as they looked at the items displayed.

The noise of the auctioneers and the buzz of people talking filled the air. Above her the sun warmed her kapp, and in the distance the mountains seemed to be especially majestic, even though she guessed they'd been just as pretty yesterday.

She sniffed the air, the aroma of homemade donuts making her stomach growl. Children ran in every direction. And every now and again, she'd see David and Charlie within the pack, running around the tables that held small items to purchase. It reminded her of the way they played with their friends back home.

If one were to look at her brothers, running around and laughing with the other boys, he'd never guess David and Charlie had just moved there less than a month prior. Her brothers knew the names of all the kids and played with them as if they'd always been the best of friends.

Crowds of smiling people surrounded her. Amazing how much time had been put into preparation for the auction. Each visitor received a sheet of paper with a list of all the auction items and where they came from.

Walking to one of the auction circles, she gazed up at the loft of the big barn. Two quilts hung from the rafters, and she scanned down the list to see who'd made them and where they came from.

"Mrs. Orlie Kauffman, Lone Star Quilt from Shipshewana, Indiana," she read aloud. "Mrs. Harley Troyer, Broken Star Pattern, Rexford, Montana."

The auctioneer rattled off a slew of numbers, and she was amazed how everyone kept track of what was happening. Her mind was too distracted to do that.

The scent of barbecued chicken filled the air, and Marianna's stomach growled. A long line waited to get a plate of chicken, coleslaw, and mashed potatoes. Should she join it? Looking closer, she spotted her mother behind the table, scooping up large heaps of mashed potatoes, placing them on plates with a smile. One of the other ladies turned to Mem, and she must have said something funny because laughter tumbled from her mother's lips.

Marianna paused in her steps. She tilted her head . . . her mother looked so different. So much younger. Marianna couldn't help but smile too.

Mrs. Peachy approached, following Marianna's gaze. "You can get a free meal if you'd like, for all your hard work helping." She wrapped an arm around Marianna's shoulders.

Marianna didn't tell her that it wasn't the food that had drawn her so. "That's wonderful, thank you much."

"Enjoy yourself, and think about making some quilts. You can sell them next year, and I'm sure get a good price."

"I like that idea."

The woman squeezed her shoulder again and left, and a sinking feeling came over Marianna. She wouldn't be here this time next year. If all went as planned, she'd be attending the classes that led to baptism and preparing to make two major decisions in her life: to give herself fully to the church and to a husband.

Trying not to let it bother her that she didn't have anyone to share the day with, Marianna walked to the end of the food line, but the sinking feeling expanded, echoing inside her. She looked to her mother again, now busy chatting with the man Marianna recognized as the clerk at the grocery store. Again her mother smiled, and it wasn't the forced smile Marianna had come to know so well. Her mother was enjoying this day—just as Dat anticipated.

Marianna saw two young girls run by, and for a moment she thought one of them was Ellie. But neither was. Both were older, even though they had the same dark hair and full cheeks. They continued on, catching up with their mother, who strode across the field and chatted with another Amish woman. As she watched, Marianna thought of her older sisters. If only she could have seen what Marilyn and Joanna had looked like. Why hadn't she been brave enough over the years to ask more about their personalities? They'd be twenty-five and twenty-seven by now—no doubt mothers with children of their own. Did Mem and Dat think about that? Consider not only their lost girls, but the generations also lost?