Beyond Hope's Valley: A Big Sky Novel (31 page)

Here, her heart told her.

She didn't have her Bible with her, but she played over in mind the special verses she had memorized. She prayed for Aaron, for Ben, for her parents, especially Mem. She prayed that God would break the bonds that remained where they shouldn't be, and strengthen the relationships that should be strengthened.

As she prepared to leave, she thought about what Aaron would say if he knew she'd spent most of the day idle. She considered what Ben would think too—and that brought a smile.

He'd be proud of her. He knew well that idleness with God performed more in one's soul than a week's worth of busy work.

Golden sunlight stretched over the Indiana cornfield as she walked back. Well, at least it would be a cornfield soon. Now it was only dark rich soil. She picked up a clump of dirt and it crumbled in her fingers. Within days a team of horses would be in the fields, breaking up the soil. It amazed her how, if one added too much water, they'd get mud, but with the right amount of light and water and seed, life would burst forth—nourishment. How was it possible one small seed could produce a plant that stretched its arms to the sky?

She wished she'd thought of the power of the seed before she spent time with Ben in Montana. The seed of attraction for him had been planted the moment he helped Ellie get her coloring book out of the puddle with such care.

A laugh slipped through her lips. Ben had talked so sweetly to Ellie not understanding she only understood Pennsylvania Dutch. Was that only a year ago? It seemed like much longer. In fact, it was hard to realize that Ben hadn't always been a part of her life. Her care for him was tucked away in a special part of her heart.

But should it be? Maybe she would have to find a spade to dig it out. Doing so would hurt . . . and that realization helped her to understand her mother even more. And as she walked back to Levi's place, she prayed that God would do some digging in her mother's heart as well as hers.

The trip took longer than expected. A flat tire in Fargo and a touch of food poisoning for Abe through Minnesota slowed them down. They arrived in Shipshewana just as church was being let out. It was being held this week at the Studers' place, which was right next door to the Sommer house.

Ben parked the large truck and trailer out front, and the older boys jumped out and headed to the creek, memories propelling their every step. Ben eyed the large white farmhouse. A porch wrapped around the front. The wooden steps were worn and slightly sagged. The green paint on the porch was worn off on the path to the front door, and he tried to picture the many feet that had journeyed over the spot through the years. Marianna's home.

Mr. and Mrs. Sommer—with baby Joy on her hip—didn't waste a moment heading down the road to see their friends. Ben stood by the truck. Should he follow?

Just as he decided to wait it out, Mr. Sommer turned and motioned to him. "You're welcome to join us. They always have sandwiches after service if you're hungry."

His stomach rumbled, and he walked after them with cautious steps. He'd never been invited to an Amish service back in Montana and he guessed having an Englischer show up for their lunch wasn't common here, either.

As he approached the yard, Ben looked at the people gathered—a sea of women wearing dark dresses, perfectly pressed. The men wore cotton shirts, suspenders, and straw hats with wide brims. These people seemed more proper, for lack of a better word, than the Montana Amish, like they'd all spiffed up for a funeral. Their eyes studied him and there were only a few smiles. Funny how he felt comfortable singing in front of tens of thousands of people, but his nerves got to him in front of a hundred plain folks.

Ben ran a finger under the collar of his shirt, wishing the ground would open up and swallow him whole. He stepped a little closer to Mrs. Sommer, as if she were his shield of protection from the prying eyes.

An older woman approached Ruth, a smile spreading on her face. "It's
wunderbaar gut
to have you back, but I wished it were for good."

"I know, Ida, but just cause we're going now doesn't mean we'll never be back." Mrs. Sommer looked over the woman's shoulder, scanning the faces. "I do appreciate you caring for Marianna. Did she come today?"

Marianna.
At the mention of her name Ben's heart jump-started as if it had been beating at half pace all these months.

"
Ne
, I'm sorry." Ida shook her head. "Poor little Samuel had a fever last night and she stayed to help Naomi with his care."

Ben hung around a while until Mrs. Sommer approached. "You can head back to the house if you'd like. The renters are out and the house is unlocked."

He nodded and walked back up the gravel road. Had Mrs. Sommer sent him back because of his discomfort—or that of her friends and neighbors?

He walked up the steps, the weight of his thoughts slowing his movements. He'd been to the Sommers' house in Montana many times, and it felt strange to realize this had been their home for so many years.

Inside, the whitewashed walls were bare. The door opened into a large common room with the kitchen on one side and the living room on the other. A simple table, with benches running down each side, spanned the two rooms. Ben pressed his lips together as he imagined Marianna sitting there, serving her brothers and sisters. A gas lantern hung over the kitchen sink, and two more were placed around the living room. The couch looked as if it had seen better years, but a brown recliner near the front window appeared almost new. Ben guessed it belonged to the newly married couple who was renting the place.

"It's a beautiful home, a perfect place to raise children."

Ben turned at Mrs. Sommer's voice. She'd followed him in when he was unaware. Mr. Sommer stood there too.

"It seems strange being back. So many memories. Of rocking my babies by the woodstove during cold winter nights." She spoke to Abe more than Ben, and a knowing look passed between husband and wife.

"It was God's will, Ruth." Abe placed a hand on his wife's shoulder, and Ben understood they were talking about the two daughters they'd lost. Ben stepped back, feeling as if he was interrupting a private moment.

He turned back to the front door. "I'll go open up the trailer and you can let me know what needs to be loaded in. There's a few hours of sunlight still and we can get some big stuff loaded up." Without a response he took two long steps to the door and then stopped short. A slim Amish woman stood in the doorway, the sun streaming in behind her made her kapp glow on her head. He didn't recognize her at first—until she spoke.

"Ben?" Marianna's voice was no more than a whisper. "Is that you?"

His heart hammered to the ceiling and back as her voice danced like music to his ears. A thousand words filled his mind—things he wanted to ask her. Things he wanted to tell her. He balled his fists and urged his feet to stay planted. He wanted to hurry toward her. He wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her not a day passed that he didn't think of her.

But instead, he just brushed his hair back from his forehead and smiled. "Yes, Marianna, it's me. It's really me."

Tears sprang to Marianna's eyes, and she didn't know why. She bit her lip and held the tears back, staring at the man she'd been wondering about for so long.

Ben's hair was longer than when she'd last seen him, but he was so much more handsome than she remembered. Her stomach danced, and her chest grew warm, as if all the sunlight streaming through the doorway behind her pooled right inside her heart.

Their eyes locked, and she wanted to tell him she'd heard the song. His soft smile told her that he'd indeed written it for her. There was a depth of love in his gaze she was glad to still see, but she felt guilty for relishing in it so.

Looking past Ben, Marianna's eyes focused on Mem and Dat. Mem's eyebrows were folding down, but was that a smile she saw on Dat's face?

She hurried across the room and her father opened his arms. She ran into his embrace. Her fingers grasped his shirt like they had when she was a child.

"It's so good to see you both. I'm so glad you're back." She turned and placed a soft kiss on her mother's cheek. "And I bet you can't wait to see Samuel. He's so adorable and Levi is a doting dat."

She noted excitement on their faces, but what would they say if they knew the truth? That Levi hadn't fathered a child? To her it proved his love even more. He treated the babe no different than if it had been his own flesh and blood.

She turned back to Ben and cleared her throat. "I am surprised to see you here. I had no idea. In fact . . ." She pointed a finger in the air. "Some woman at the fabric store told me you were in jail." Marianna laughed. "You of all people."

Ben swallowed and the color dropped from his face. Dat's hand squeezed her shoulder. The look, the touch, told her it was true.

Marianna's hand covered her mouth. "No, I'm so sorry . . . you don't have to explain." She mumbled between her fingers.

He shrugged. "Nothing you shouldn't know." He tucked his hands into his jean pockets. "You know about the letters I wrote as part of my parole for my part in my friend's death years ago. The letters didn't get mailed while I was on tour. It's as simple as that . . . it wasn't my fault but it took me off the tour."

Marianna took two steps two him. "I'm so sorry."

"I'm not." He glanced from Marianna to her folks. "I'd rather be here . . . with friends."

She nodded and could tell his words were sincere. Maybe she'd talk to him about the music and his tour later. Maybe if they ever got time alone, but now? Now she just soaked in the fact that he was here—which worried her as much as it pleased her.

And on the heels of that realization came another, more sobering thought.

What will Aaron think to know Ben is in town?

Marianna stood in the hall, looking into her bedroom. It seemed smaller than she remembered, with the simple bed and the chest of drawers. She saw the hooks on the window on which she used to hang a blanket to darken the room at night. It seemed like another girl who'd slept there.

Footsteps sounded from behind her, and without turning she knew it was Ben. He paused behind her and his presence sent shivers coursing through her.

"Anything need to get moved out of this room? We can fit that dresser—"

"No." The word pushed from between her lips. She grasped the doorframe with her hand. "These things aren't going to Montana."