Beyond Hope's Valley: A Big Sky Novel (15 page)

The cold air nipped at Marianna's nose as she walked from Naomi's house to Aunt Ida's place. She hadn't wanted to be rude, but nearly as soon as Levi confessed the truth she had to get out of there. She needed fresh air. Needed space to think.

The steady
clop-clop
of a slow horse met Marianna's ears, along with the rasp of buggy wheels in the gravel. In Montana they'd driven on dirt roads and later snow. Both made different sounds. The loud rolling of wheels over gravel caused a longing for the quiet, snowy mornings. The longing started as an ache in her gut and moved upward to her heart.

As she turned, she expected to see one of Aunt Ida's neighbors. Instead, her eyes widened to see Aaron's buggy. Aaron's bright-eyed gaze. Aaron's smile.

She paused, and then hurried his direction. The horse picked up its pace, approaching. "What are you doing here?"

"Mem had me drive her over to visit Naomi's mom. She mentioned you'd just left. I wanted to make sure you were all right. Thought it too far for you to walk home in the cold."

Aaron smiled at her, his bright blue eyes sparkling. "Do you mind, Mari, that I've come to offer you a ride?" He leaned toward her. "Problem is, you walk faster than I'd imagined. You're nearly halfway home."

"Well, not having to walk the other half is much appreciated." She tried to keep her tone light yet the knowledge of what her brother was facing—what he chose to do—was still sinking in.

Aaron reached a hand to her and she took it, allowing him to guide her into the buggy.

"And the thought means as much as the action. I appreciate you coming fer me. Checking on me."

Aaron chuckled, then winced as she scooted closer.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?"

Aaron shook his head. "I'd take ten times the pain to have you near."

"Glad you think so because otherwise the last month or so wouldn't have worked." She chuckled, letting her gaze drift over the frozen ground and the gray clouds that filled the sky. Her emotions felt as barren as her surroundings and she told herself to cheer up. Aaron was here. Everything would be better now.

They rode along for a while in peaceful silence, both scanning the barren trees, the patches of snow and quiet farms as they passed.

"Feels good to be home."

She nodded, but mostly because she was afraid to express her thoughts. She couldn't describe it any other way than an emptiness—an ache she'd been nursing since the last glimpse of the Rocky Mountains had disappeared from the train's window.

Marianna rested her head on Aaron's shoulder. She thought about Levi's love and dedication to Naomi. Would Aaron make such a sacrifice? Aaron was a good Amish man. He always did what was right, but how far would he go to show her his love? What if she'd come to him in the same situation?

"My parents asked me to invite you over for Christmas dinner."

"Really?" She took his hand and squeezed it. "Of course. It'll be
gut
to get to know your family better."

"I told Mem you'd say yes. You'll enjoy everyone."

"Everyone?"

"
Ja
, many siblings from both my parents' sides and all their kids. The house will be full. Good thing you like children. I've already had some of them ask if they can call you cousin too. I've spoke of you often. They tell me you sound too good to be true."

"I do not know whether to take that as a compliment or not."

"Of course, it is the truth. There is no one as good as you—as pure."

As he spoke, tension froze up her limbs and tightened her stomach. "That's kind of you, Aaron, but I'm far from perfect. I've already disappointed you so many times, and in our married life I'm sure I'll do so again . . . often."

He nodded but didn't answer, and the longer they rode in silence the more she found it hard to breathe. All her life, all she'd wanted was to be the perfect Amish daughter to make up for the loss of her sisters. The amazing thing was the closer she grew to God the more she realized she was far from perfect. In fact, relief had flooded over her when she realized she wouldn't have to carry that burden any longer. Or at least she thought she wouldn't be carrying it. Did Aaron realize she'd have bad days now and then? Would he allow her to be herself—her true self?

And what if she wanted to read the Bible, to sing aloud to God, to pray out loud? None of those were what a
gut
Amish woman would do . . . but all of them had transformed her life as she grew to know God in new and different ways. Would Aaron accept that? She considered the gift she'd brought him for Christmas too. Would giving it to him ruin everything?

The horse's hooves clomped on the gravel with the same tempo that worry knocked against her heart.

"You are bein' mighty quiet."

She shrugged and lifted her head, looking at him. "I was thinking about yer Christmas present. It—it's something . . . special. If possible, I'd like you to open it when we're alone and not at the family gathering."

"I don't think that'll be a problem. Will you give me a hint?"

"Hmmm . . . The hint is it's something you keep opening every day and find new treasure inside."

"In that case, I already have it." He released one of the reins and brushed her face with his fingers. "Your heart is that to me, Mari. The more I touch it, the more treasure I find . . ."

His words melted the tension that had been building, and she told herself not to let her own worries ruin all she had that was good. She closed her eyes, relishing in his touch, and letting her concerns drift away.

"Yer sure a romantic talker for a simple Amish man . . . a girl can get used to this."

"You're not a girl, Mari, you're a woman. One who's captured my heart . . . and I can't wait to spend the rest of my life not taking that for granted." He sighed. "If you only knew, Marianna. If you only knew."

Dear June-Sevenies,

You may have heard by now that I am back in Indiana. The trip went well, and I enjoyed the train ride, especially with Aaron by my side. I haven't told many people, but I cannot keep the news from you—my cherished friends—for much longer. As soon as we are able Aaron and I will be marrying! The last few months spent with him has reminded me of all I loved about him. For so long I'd watched him from afar, dreaming of getting to know him better. The days spent caring for him as he healed from his broken leg confirmed what a gut man he is. I cannot think of another Amish man I know who lives as honorably as Aaron. And what Amish man would be so diligent at preparing for his wife even before he started courting her? Aaron has made it simply impossible for me not to allow his dreams to become my own.

The wedding will not be soon, but I wish for each of you to attend. You're as close to me as sisters and I cannot think of a better day to have us all together. It's something we've dreamed of—have we not?

I know most of you made it to Clara's wedding. My thoughts were with you from Montana. And speaking of Clara, congratulations are in order, a baby! Or perhaps babies? I do remember you telling me that both your mother and grandmother carried twins the first pregnancy. Double the blessings!

Wish you sunny thoughts to cheer up the dreary winter days.

Marianna

O
n Christmas Eve, Marianna sat down at the table with Aunt Ida to follow one of their favorite traditions—designing and creating their own greeting cards. From the time she was a child the tradition was to come to Aunt Ida's house on Christmas Eve to work with rubber stamps, colored inks, decorative cutouts, and scalloped-edged scissors.

The scent of gingerbread cookies filled the air. The heat from the woodstove filled the room with warmth, and a gentle snow fell outside the windows. Colorful scraps of paper were spread across the table, and the plain room brightened with their presence. Like the quilts Aunt Ida made, creating Christmas cards was another acceptable way to display color and beauty. And Marianna could lose herself in the making of them, even forgetting for a time about being plain. She couldn't help but smile.

Marianna wrote down a list of those she wanted to give cards to, and the majority of the list was made up of her friends from Montana: Annie, Edgar, Jenny, Kenzie, the Carash family, Eve and Hope Peachy, and of course Ben. Since Christmas was tomorrow her greetings would be late, but she had a feeling her friends wouldn't mind.

She pulled out a piece of cardstock and nibbled on her lower lip. What special events were happening at the West Kootenai Kraft and Grocery? Did Annie host a small Christmas party for the employees? Marianna guessed she did.

Aunt Ida worked beside her, cutting and gluing as she created three cards in the time it took Marianna to create one. Marianna enjoyed writing a personal message in each, but when she got to Ben's card she didn't know what to say. She decided on an Amish proverb that her grandma used to tell her. "Courage is fear that has said its prayers," she wrote inside then added:

Thank you for giving me the courage to seek God in new ways. My fear has always been that knowing God better would give me more rules and lists to follow. Instead, I've discovered a Shepherd who leads me beside still waters, a Guide to whisper His love to me along wooded paths, and a Protector who will be there no matter what valley lies ahead. Thank you for being an example to me. I wouldn't have known Him better without seeing God in you.

She read the message again and her heart warmed. Then, instead of addressing each envelope individually, Marianna put them all inside one manila envelope and sealed it up, addressing it to Edgar at the store's address. She laughed out loud as she imagined his face when he realized she expected him to play Santa.

After the cards were finished, Marianna took the decorated paper upstairs to wrap the items she'd gotten for Levi, Naomi, Aunt Ida, and Aaron. For Levi she'd brought with her deer jerky from the West Kootenai Kraft and Grocery. She'd quilted two small potholders for Aunt Ida and the same for her soon-to-be sister-in-law. And for Aaron . . .

She pulled the Bible from the box it had come in and held it to her chest.
Please, let him understand. Let him be open to reading Your Word for himself.
Aaron had attended church his whole life . . . wouldn't reading the words of the One they worshiped be a joy? It was a joy to her now, but she also knew how shocked she'd been when she first discovered Dat with an Englisch Bible . . .

Yet, all she could do was try.

It wasn't until Marianna had finished wrapping Aaron's gift that she realized she hadn't created a card for Aaron. She set the package to the side. Was it too late to ask Aunt Ida where she'd put away the card-making supplies? She started downstairs, but noticed all the lanterns had been put out. There was no soft glow coming from under Aunt Ida's door either, which told Marianna her aunt was already in bed.

At least I can write out a message to put into the card,
she thought as she returned to her room. Yet when she sat down she couldn't think of what to say.

Marianna put down the pen and paper. Tomorrow. She'd think of something tomorrow.