Beyond Hope's Valley: A Big Sky Novel (38 page)

Marianna was only slightly surprised to find Mem, Dat, Levi, and Naomi—with baby Samuel in her arms—standing in the front yard as she headed downstairs. Last night, when only a few guests had remained at the reception, Mem and Dat had approached Levi with a special gift. The house wouldn't be sold after all. The farm was their heritage—one Dat wanted to pass down to his son. Marianna paused at the window and smiled. It seemed that Levi would be tending the soil this year after all. He and Naomi would be moving in in a couple of weeks, which worked out for the renters too, since they were moving to Charm, Ohio, to be closer to her family.

Something stirred in Marianna's heart as she thought about that. What would her Dat think of her returning to Montana? Of being closer to Ben?

As Mem let Naomi and Levi toward the two trees behind the barn, Dat approached the house. He smiled when he saw Marianna and motioned to the porch swing. She joined him, sitting by his side.

"Mem and I talked last night. We've seen how both you and Ben have struggled—have tried to do the right thing." Dat raised her hand and squeezed. "We've struggled with the thought that if you allowed yourself to love Ben, you'd be walking away from everything, but we know you. We know you can honor our family and love God . . . even if that means you don't follow the way of the Amish in every part."

Marianna tilted her head. "What are you telling me to do?"

Dat smiled. "I'm not telling you . . . I'm allowing you. God has been speaking to me in His Word. If He has chosen a path for you, who am I to stand in your way? Mem and I aren't ready to leave the Amish. We know so many benefits. We love the community in Montana. But we know Ben's love for God, too, and we can't think of a young man we'd rather have you choose. Besides"—Dat winked—"I'm sure you heard him playing that guitar late into the night. You better go find him and hear what he's been working on. I don't want us to have any more sleepless nights while we're on the road."

Her lips parted and her heart seemed to jump into her throat. "We?"

Dat nodded. "We. The four of us adults and Charlie, David, and the baby of course. That's what you want,
ja
, to come back with us? Before the sun hits its peak today we're all going home."

She found Ben sitting near the creek with his guitar. He eyed her and then laid the guitar down.

"I was looking forward to seeing you today." He reached out toward her.

She glanced down at his hand and then extended hers. He wrapped his hand around it and stroked her fingers.

The beating of her heart increased. "And as I was longing to see you." Her hand grew warm where Ben stroked it. He stepped toward her, his wide eyes fixed on hers until their noses nearly touched.

"Ben." His name came out on a whispered sigh, and she turned her head, the feelings overwhelming her. The intensity of his gaze made it hard to breathe.

"Yes, Marianna?" His breath warmed her cheek. His hand tightened until his grip became almost painful.

Then, before she could say anything, he spoke. "I want to ask you something. Will you come back to Montana with us?"

Her heart sank.
Was that all he wanted to say? After all this time?
She shuffled slightly and looked down at her feet. She was such a fool. "Is that really what you wanted to ask?" She looked up at him again, then glanced to his guitar.

He tipped his head. "Do you think there's something more?"

She shrugged. "Well . . . Dat did mention a song."

Laughter spilt from Ben's lips. "Oh, Marianna, there
is
a song. There's also more that I want to ask too. But I've been thinking about this, and as beautiful as Indiana is, we need to get back to Montana. We need to seek God there . . . together."

She saw a twinkle in his eyes. He wasn't rejecting her. Not at all. He wanted her to wait. His smile told her he had wonderful things in store for her . . . for them.

Marianna placed a hand on her hip. "Well, now, I suppose there is only one thing I have to do, then. Tell me Driver Ben . . . do you have room in the back of that trailer for a few more things?"

Though her eyelids weighed heavy from long days of travel, Marianna didn't want to blink lest she miss one inch of the view. Their truck and trailer wound its way up the dirt road that led to West Kootenai, Montana. Late spring draped a soft green blanket over the high mountain pastures. They drove past creeks carrying sparkling, white water down the hillsides toward Lake Koocanusa.

Looking up, the snow still rimmed mountain peaks. Snow that would soon make its way down the mountains. A knot swelled in her throat at the thought of parking in front of their log cabin and seeing Josiah and Ellie bounding out the front door. She pictured Trapper's excited bark and dance, and her smile could not be contained.

Marianna leaned forward. "You can drive a bit faster."

Her parents' laughter joined with Ben's, and she caught his gaze in the rearview mirror.

The truck and trailer crossed the bridge over Lake Koocanusa and wound its way up the mountain road. Twenty minutes later they pulled up and parked, and before she could get her side door open, Marianna saw Trapper, leaping through the open door . . . racing to her side.

She stepped out of the back seat of the large truck. Trapper danced at her feet.

She was home.

Morning dawned in West Kootenai. As soon as the sun's rays brightened the morning, Marianna had been up and dressed. Now she walked down the wooded pines behind their home, her eyes on Trapper. The dog trotted beside her . . . and then, as he neared the still pond, he paused.

Her heart doubled within her, and she crossed her arms and pulled them tight. With a single bark the dog lunged over the hill.

"It could be a rabbit or a squirrel." She patted her kapp, but something inside told her it that wasn't it. Hope filled her over where the next few steps could lead her. And
whom.

Within a quickened pace she followed Trapper. Her footsteps crunched on the dry pine needles. The scent of new leaves and mountain streams filled her nostrils. Laughter spilled out as she crested the hill, but the log was empty. Her heart fell.
How foolish.
She'd let her romantic thoughts carry her away.

Then . . . movement. Trapper ran along the water's edge and a figure crouched down and opened his arms to the dog.

Ben.

He looked as if he'd been expecting her. Maybe
hoping
was a better word. He'd hoped she'd come, and his face glowed like the reflection of the sun across the water.

Ben laughed as Trapper jumped into his arms. Then with a pat on the wiggling creature's back, he set down the dog and stood. He walked toward Marianna, and she'd never been more happy.

To be here. To see the mountains towering above them. To witness pure affection in Ben's gaze. To feel God's presence beside the still waters . . .

This . . . was joy.

"I was hoping you'd come."

His low voice, his nearness, cloaked her in the purest contentment. Even so, she couldn't help but think of the community and what this would mean.

Always the community. Even with her parents' permission it was hard turning her back on all she'd been raised to believe.

Ben paused before her. He stroked her jaw with his fingers and caressed her neck. "I don't want to let you go again. I learned that the hard way. I was a coward, but now I've been thinking about things."

"What things?"

"Of us doing this every day. Walking through these woods. Praying by this pond. Spending life together. Looking into each other's eyes. Do you feel the same way?"

"I think so. I believe so."

She leaned forward and their lips met. The kiss was hesitant, hopeful. Everything within her grew warm. She'd wanted this for so long. Wanted him for so long.

Ben.

He pulled back from the kiss and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into an embrace and whispered in her ear. "I want us to be together. To have a life together."

She pulled her hand from his and gripped his forearms. She pulled back farther, looking into his face. "I want that too. And the strange thing is, I believe that's God's plan for me . . . for us."

He kissed her once more, and she could feel his smile on her lips. Then he cupped her face and looked into her eyes. His adoration was palpable. Why had it taken her so long to embrace the truth?

"I love you so much, but I know what that means. By coming to me, I know all you have to leave behind." His blue eyes widened, and he glanced from her eyes to her kapp. He turned, looking away. "It's asking too much . . ."

Lightness, peace, flooded her chest. "I don't want to be stuck in the ways of the past, Ben. I'll always be grateful for all I've learned—the Amish community's love, respect, and care for each other—but I want to step forward into the future. The future God has planned for my life, for our lives. Now that I know about God and His love...I can't stay here anymore, with the things of the past. And now that I know your heart. Ben, I never want to let go."

Marianna's mind echoed his name—
Ben, Ben
.

At last he turned toward her and their eyes met. Joy radiated from his eyes.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh, and about your new song." She grinned. "I hope it's time for me to hear it."

He chuckled and glanced to his guitar, leaning against a tree. "I'm still working on it. The title is '
Marianna'
. And my favorite line goes something like this: 'Marianna . . . the name written with the pen of the man who dreams of a future by your side.'"

She placed a hand to her cheek. "I love it."

"I hope so, because the song was inspired by some letters I've been writing. I've been learning a lot about the Amish. Learning there are some things we can
all
learn from their ways." He pulled an envelope from his back pocket. "Here's the first letter. I thought you'd want to read it."

She pulled lined paper from the envelope. She was about to read when he took it from her hands.

"Actually, let me read it to you." He cleared his throat and began.

Dear Marianna,

The long journey has me weary. The miles have taken their toll, but even in its heaviness my mind can't stop thinking of you. It's strange how often I find myself turning to letters to express my feelings. I suppose it's become my means of communicating. Strange how I now filter my thoughts through the written word. Putting pen to paper seems to calm me somehow.