Beyond Hope's Valley: A Big Sky Novel (2 page)

Katie. I've told you before that I've prayed for Cory's future wife since he was just a baby. I'm thankful that God heeded those prayers, cared for you, and brought you together like He did. I've never met someone with a smile that can brighten up a room like yours. I know how you caught my boy's eye! Thank you for your tender, loving heart.

And Clayton—my first grandbaby. No one can convince me there's a baby cuter than you! What a gift you are to us. I'm excited to see who God made you to be. We are just starting to get a glimpse of your personality, and I know there's a bunch more where that came from!

Leslie. Even though you are the most dramatic of all my children I love to see how God is using that "gift of exuberance" to impact peoples' lives. From the students you've taught English to on mission trips, to those you lead in college Bible Study and youth group, to the amazing people you connect with in the deaf community, it's hard not to want to be your best friend for life once someone meets you. I love your heart after Jesus and the decisions you make daily to keep your steps in line with His will. Your passion for reading and knowing His Word is an inspiration to me. Know I'm praying for you as you finish your last year of college. I'm eager to see what's next!

Nathan. God knew what He was doing when He gave me such a gentle-hearted and tender third child. You're so easy to love. I've been amazed to see you growing and maturing and becoming a man after God's heart. You're the one I turn to first when I need help with your little sister—mostly because you're always so willing and eager to offer a helping hand. You have many stories within you, and I want to encourage you to trust your heart as you write. Sometimes we can't see what holes we have until all the words are on the page. Keep going! There are many who will be amazed by the story lines you come up with. I know I am!

Alyssa. My sweet girl. A hundred times a day I thank God for bringing you into our lives. When I was most discouraged that God was taking years and years to allow us to adopt a baby from China God gave us a great gift in bringing us you! I'm forever thankful to your birth mom for choosing our family. Life around here would be boring without your smile, your giggles, and chasing you from one end of the house to another. One of my favorite times of the day is snuggling with you and reading stories. In the nearly two years since your birth I'm pretty sure I've been smiling more than ever in my life! You are a true gift little daughter.

Grandma Dolores. Some of my happiest memories growing up where those spent at your house with you and Papa. What an honor to have you here in our home. I know it's hard for you to depend on us for help. It's challenging when you can't do all that you used to be able to do, but I honestly say that the best thing that you can do is what you're already doing—holding our house up in prayer. Listening to you sing and praise God in the morning encourages me. A grandmother's prayers are a gift forever.

Nathan, Kayleigh, MaCayla, Audrie, and Donovan Stoltz. Kayleigh, I can still remember that day over ten years ago when you walked through the doors of Hope Pregnancy Center. I thought you were just another young, teen mom who needed a little support. I had no idea that God planned for you to join our family—you and your whole crew! You may not be a Goyer by name, but you are ours in heart! Even though having all of you in our home for a season is busy and noisy, I'm blessed by the joy all of you bring. Having eleven faces around the dinner table shows that God builds family in unique and wonderful ways.

Finally, to my best friend Jesus Christ. None of this would be possible without you. You remind me there's hope beyond every valley. Even during the hardest days I can lift my head and look forward to eternity with You. There's nothing better than that.

Dear Journal,

All my life I've lived plain, but emotions are far from plain even for us Amish . . . at least that's what the beating of my heart, the rush of heat to my cheeks, and the stirring deep in my gut—like the churning of butter—tell me as I feel Aaron Zook's breath against my neck. Aaron slumps in the seat next to me, his dreams taking him on some adventure as the train carries us back to Indiana. Or that's what the small smile on his lips is sayin'. I wonder if I'm included in that grand venture? If I were to guess, I am. Seems that's why Aaron came—to find me and to make me his own, like we'd both been dreamin' for so long. Seems like he'd carry that, carry me, into his dreams.

Please forgive the squiggly handwriting as I write these words. The sway of the train makes writing difficult, but I must get onto paper what I've been storing up in my heart. At this moment the mountains of Montana are only yet a memory. Farms, fields, and sky spread out as far as I can see. Of course, I can't see far. The first rays of dawn have just stretched out their brightening arms of welcome. A small ache pinches my heart as I consider leaving that wonderful wooded place and my family. Yet, I remind myself that what I found in Montana is something I carry with me—not packed within the two cardboard boxes under the train, but tucked away deep in my heart between layered memories, like colorful embroidered kerchiefs stored away.

God is what I've found—not Him exactly, but a deeper knowing of Him. Friendships, too, with the Amish and Englisch. Friendships to remind me that I'm more alike to those "outside" our community than different.

A smile fills my face as I write, not only as I turn over the memories I've collected, like small treasures in my mind, but also as I listen to Aaron's soft snores. I can't help pausing every few sentences to catch a glimpse of his handsome face. I can't help my chest warming at his closeness. To think in a few months' time we'll be married. Married!

The first order of business, of course, is to help Levi and Naomi—to walk through their challenges alongside them, holding their hands and maybe covering their ears from the comments certain to come. But when that task is done, I'm eager to step out in my life, with my husband. Just writing that word—husband—sends a thousand tingles, like pine needle pricks, movin' up my arms.

Indiana.

Aaron.

It's all I could think of when I left Indiana . . . and it's within the embrace of both that I'll finally discover home.

M
arianna scanned the crowd and then she saw him. Levi the man—no longer the boy—strode to her. Tenderness for her brother, even with his close-cropped hair and Englisch clothes, tugged at her heart. But as Marianna approached, she was sure she saw something. A shadow of stubble on Levi's face, the beginnings of a beard. Evidence he'd soon be an Amish husband. Her heart leapt.

Marianna held back her questions. She wanted to know about his plans, about the wedding, yet she noticed other Amish milling around. This conversation was one to be shared in private, around family. Only after the engagement was published, a few weeks before the wedding, would they be able to talk about such things where others could hear.

Though it was far from ladylike, Marianna lifted her skirt and ran to him.

Levi opened his arms to her, and she stepped into them. His T-shirt was soft on her cheek.

"Thank you for coming, Mari. I can't tell you how much it means."

She swallowed hard and nodded. Her lips parted to answer, but the quiver of her chin stopped her words. She looked back. Aaron gathered their suitcases with one hand, as he leaned on his crutches tucked under the other arm. She should go help him, but first she needed a moment with Levi.

"Are you crying?" Levi's hands touched her shoulders and he nudged her back to see her face. "You don't have to cry. I'm all right and Naomi will be too. We're figuring things out." He wiped away a stray tear from her cheek with his thumb. Levi's touch was gentle. "Don't cry, Marianna."

"They're happy tears," she whispered. "Levi, you have to know that. The days to come, I can't even imagine, how full of happiness they'll be."

"Yes, Marianna." Levi hugged her again. "I suppose it's what we've always wanted. It's just that we didn't know."

"We do now, Levi." Laughter replaced her tears. "We do now."

Levi moved to help Aaron with their suitcases and boxes, but Marianna carried so much more deep inside. More than the clothes and her journal that she'd packed in Montana. She carried more sweet memories, more of God than she had when she'd headed out west.

She looked around the train station, letting it sink in that she was home. Other Amish families mulled around the station, bearing testimony that it was so. The lack of snow on the ground outside told her she was no longer in Montana. God had sent her there for a reason. Now, more than anything, she wanted to share what she learned with her friends and family in Indiana. She wanted them to know God as she did.

A child's pained cry split the air, and Marianna paused. A small girl, who looked to be about five had tumbled off the bench and sat crumbled in a small heap on the white, tiled floor.

Without hesitation, Marianna turned and strode over to the girl. She knelt and reached out a hand. "Oh, sweetie."

The girl accepted the help and within seconds the little one crumbled into her grasp. The cries stopped, but the girl's shoulders trembled. Marianna looked around. A young woman with red hair pulled back into a ponytail hurried toward her with a baby on her hip.

"Ashley, oh no!" The mom rushed forward, offering an open arm to replace Marianna's. "I told you not too goof around like that!"

The woman met Marianna's gaze. Her eyes widened as if for the first time noticing it was an Amish woman who helped her daughter. "Thank you. I—I just left her for a moment to make a bottle for the baby in the restroom. I told her to sit still and watch our things."

Marianna patted the girl's soft, blonde hair. "I understand. I'm not a mom yet, but I have five younger siblings. Turn your back for one minute—"

The sound of a man clearing his throat sounded behind her, and Marianna turned to see Aaron and Levi waiting. Aaron shifted his weight from side-to-side and looked toward an Amish family who sat straight-backed—lined up on a bench from oldest to youngest—all eyes on her.

Disapproving.

Marianna swallowed as she rose. "Yes, well. She seems to be fine now. We must get going."

The stares of her fellow Amish resurrected the memory of how things were in Indiana. She'd been in Montana too long—had gotten too comfortable with Englisch ways, Englisch folks.

The girl's cries stopped, and the woman adjusted the baby on her hip. "Coming or going?"

"Coming. Just arrived home." Marianna took a step back, drawing closer to Aaron. "You have a lovely family. Have a
gut
trip . . ." She turned to the doorway—but not before she saw the woman's wrinkled brow. Was she more surprised that Marianna had helped or that she'd backed off so quickly?

Marianna hadn't meant to be rude. She'd forgotten that Amish and Englisch didn't talk much in these parts. She pressed her shoulders back and lifted her chin as she followed Levi toward the exit. It took every ounce of strength not to look back, not to wave and offer one last parting smile to the little one, who still whimpered at her mother's side.

So much I've forgotten
. . .