Along Wooded Paths (10 page)

Annie held it up. “Yes, of course.”

Marianna took the photograph from Annie’s hands, and for the briefest second thought Annie had been mistaken. Studying it closer, Marianna realized the beautiful Amish girl in the photograph
was
her.

She tilted her head. She’d never seen herself in such a way. She’d never seen a photograph of herself and only glanced briefly at herself in the mirror to make sure her face was washed and her hair pinned up under her kapp.

In the photo her chin was lifted and her mouth open in laughter. She held three quilts and her smiling eyes were slightly closed. Ben stood next to her, his eyes fixed on her face. He wore a smile, but there was more than that. The way he looked at her.

Well, Marianna had never seen such a tender look. Not between her parents. Not from Aaron. Did he always look at her like that when she wasn’t aware?

Marianna placed her hand on her chest and could feel it beating through her blue dress and black apron.

“It’s a nice photo,” she finally said, hoping Annie didn’t hear the emotion in her voice.

“I like it too, but you can see your face. I know that’s a problem.”

“Well, I am in
rumspringa
. I suppose that out of all things having a photograph of myself can be my wild attempt at running around.”

“Would you like that copy?” Annie looked up at her.

Marianna looked to the photo again, noticing the crowds of people in the background and the mountains in the distance.

“Yes, I would. I mean if I return to Indiana, I’d like something to remember this place by.”

“You’re returning to Indiana? Change your mind again?” Annie’s wide eyes searched hers.

“No plans now, but you never know.”

“I understand. I’m sure with that young man in your home . . .well, I bet it gets you wondering.”

Marianna didn’t know how to answer that. Instead she studied the photo of her and Ben again. It was the first photograph she’d ever owned and it was special, mostly because of the man she was with.

“Do you mind if I use it for the Web site, then?” Annie gathered the other photographs in a nice stack and returned them to the envelope. “I mean, since you are in your
rumspringa
.”

Marianna laughed, her fast-beating heartbeat making her head light. “I don’t mind. It’s not like anyone from my Amish community will see. And if they do mention it, I’ll know then they were using a computer.” She clucked her tongue. “And we all know they ought not be doing that.”

Marianna heard the jingle of the front door and stiffened. Her hand pressed the photograph in her pocket, and even though she’d only received it an hour ago she’d sneaked enough glances that the image of the captured faces burned into her mind.

Footsteps neared. Was it Ben returning? She’d been doing that all morning. Every time she heard the jingle of the front door bell—whether she worked in the kitchen, waited on a customer, or cleaned the dining room—her shoulders tensed, her movements paused.

“There she is . . .” Marianna recognized the voice and continued wiping off the table. It wasn’t Ben’s face, but her Uncle Ike’s smiling face that greeted her as she turned.

“Hello. Come for lunch? Annie cooked up some Corn Bread Meat Pie from Aunt Ida’s recipe.” Marianna glanced to the kitchen and noticed Annie’s gaze intent on them. Then Marianna looked closer and noticed it wasn’t
them
Annie looked at, but Uncle Ike. Marianna tried to hide her smile. Was it possible? Did her boss have an interest in her uncle?

“Oh, wish I could. Annie
is
the best cook.”

Ike looked to the kitchen and winked. Annie looked away, her cheeks reddening. Marianna covered her mouth with her hand. Sarah, her coworker, paused her work, whipping up cream in a bowl, and took note of the interaction too.

“Actually”—Uncle Ike turned back to Marianna—“I was on my way back to your folks’ house. Yer dat made some wooden crutches for Aaron—to help him get around better. Was wondering if you had a lunch break and wanted to ride home with me? I’ll have you back in an hour.”

“That’s kind of ya, but—” Marianna scrambled for an excuse.

“You should go,” Annie called from the kitchen, wiping her sudsy hands on her jeans. Then with quickened steps she hurried into the dining area. “Things are slow enough. Sarah is almost finished with the peanut-butter pies.”

Hearing her name, Sarah glanced up. “Almost done.” She nodded her head and her white kapp bobbed up and down. “
Ja
, you should go home and check on Aaron.”

Marianna folded her arms over her chest. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to go home. Sometimes Dat or Uncle Ike headed home for lunch in their buggy and she’d catch a ride. Nor was it that she didn’t want to check on Aaron. It’s just that everyone
wanted
her to go see him—that it was something a young woman in love with a young man should do. Romantic even. The more she played into that role, though, the more everyone would expect her to run to Indiana to get married as soon as the snow melted.

Yet with three sets of eyes on her, Marianna couldn’t think of one good excuse. So without another word she took off the cooking apron that she wore over her black Amish apron and moved to the coat rack.

“Marianna?”

At Annie’s call, she turned. “
Ja
?”

Annie approached with two loaves of bread in her hands, already packaged for sale.

“You can take this to your friend. Tell him you baked them this morning.” Annie smiled, handing one of the loaves to Marianna. Then she turned to Uncle Ike. “And I thought you’d enjoy one too. It’s still warm. Your niece is a fine baker.”

“Thank you.” Ike smiled then lifted the bag to sniff. “Smells wonderful.”

Marianna’s jaw dropped as she watched. She’d been working here for months and hadn’t seen this level of interest between these two before.
Have I been blind?

But as she walked to the front door and followed Uncle Ike out to the buggy, she realized she’d been so focused on her own thoughts and worries, she hadn’t been paying attention to anyone else.

“It’s the way of pride,”
she could almost hear her bishop back home preaching in his singsong voice.
“If we’re thinking more of ourselves than others, we’re not living as the good Lord says we should.”

Marianna climbed into the buggy and grabbed a blanket from behind the seat, wrapping it over her legs. She’d had enough of herself. Of her thoughts. She needed to care for others as God would want her to, and leave the rest in His hands.

As the horse pulled the buggy down the road, the bread warmed her lap. Why hadn’t she realized sooner that she needed to follow Annie’s example of giving and caring for others, instead of being caught up in her own thoughts? How could she have missed it?

Annie cared for others through the store, through the kitchen, through conversation. It was a business, but so much more. The giving of warm bread to those down and disabled, not because they didn’t have anything to eat, but because doing a little something proved care in big ways.

What would Aaron think? Would he take her offering as her showing him affection in hopes of soon becoming his bride?

And if he did, was that a bad thing? Marianna just wasn’t sure. In a way she was eager to have Aaron try her bread. Eager to see the joy it brought to his gaze.

Who did she fool? The joy
she
brought to his gaze was what she enjoyed most.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Marianna hurried into the house, bread in hand. Uncle Ike tended to the horse, stating he’d be in soon. She stepped onto the doormat and stomped the snow off her feet. Her stomps stopped short when she noticed Aaron on the couch.

His leg was still propped up on pillows, but Ellie sat half on his lap and half on his chest. Josiah knelt on the floor with his chin resting on Aaron’s chest. Trapper sat by Josiah’s feet, and although he wagged his tail as Marianna entered, he didn’t rise. Charlie sat there too, eyes focused on Aaron’s sketchbook.

“
Die Katze!
” Josiah pointed to the sketchbook in Aaron’s hand.

“
Katze
!” Ellie mimicked, meowing.

Hearing Marianna come in, Aaron glanced up, a smile spreading across his face. Then he turned back to the sketchbook.

“A cat? A cat might be hard to draw. Hmm.” His hand set to work on a sketch.

“What’s going on? Josiah shouldn’t you be in school?” Marianna placed the loaf of bread on the kitchen table. She slipped off her coat, feeling warm, not only from the heat of the woodstove, but of the sight of Aaron with her siblings. She hadn’t seen him with kids other than his own younger siblings, but the way her brothers and sister cuddled with him appeared natural, beautiful.

“Josiah begged to stay home from school yet. I supposed it would not hurt once.” Mem stood at the top of the stairs. She descended, carrying a stack of clean dishtowels. Since it had gotten cold, their laundry had to be hung in the house to dry. Before Aaron arrived, Mem had hung it in the living room near the fire. Since his arrival, she’d been hauling it up to her room, where it hung until it finally dried.

“Aaron has been entertaining them all morn.” Mem hurried into the kitchen. “He taught them a new song, and he read a story from one of Josiah’s books. He—”

“But they’re sitting on him, and he’s only had surgery a few days ago. Ellie”—Marianna took a step forward and pointed to the floor in front of the sofa—“You should sit on the floor. Or I’ll bring you a chair. You have to be careful. Give Aaron time to heal.”

“I thank you for your concern, Mari, but she’s not hurting a thing. They are helpin’ to distract me. Keeps my mind off the pain.”

“You sure?” Marianna picked up a kitchen chair by the chair back and carried it next to the sofa. “I don’t want you to take longer to heal than necessary.” She set the chair down next to Josiah and Charlie and sat, folding her hands on her lap. Worry caused a slight headache in her temples.

Aaron placed his sketchbook on his chest and reached for her hand, squeezing it. “I’m doing better today, and even more so now that you’re here. Did I see you bring something in? Is that fresh bread I smell?”

“
Ja
.” She pulled her hand away and rose. “I made it this morning.” Even as she said the words, she noticed his smile. A smile of appreciation. No, more than that. A smile of affection. She turned and stepped away, realizing Annie’s plan had worked. The only thing was Aaron believed it to be
her
plan. She hurried to the kitchen.

“Thank you for coming home. It’s a surprise,” Aaron called from his place on the sofa.

She held the bagged bread to her chest and turned. “Yes, well, my uncle—”

From the cradle near the woodstove, Joy’s cries split the air, interrupting Marianna’s words. She put down the bread and hurried to her baby sister. She rewrapped Joy’s blanket and then pulled the baby into her arms, breathing in the baby scent. Joy immediately stopped crying.

Marianna prepared to explain, when Uncle Ike entered with the crutches. He shut the door behind him and paused. His eyes scanned the living room, taking in the sight of her and Aaron with the children.

“Well, isn’t this some sight. Aaron and Mari, you do look fine with all those children, if I say so myself.” He held up the crutches, changing the subject as if his previous words had not just made both Marianna and Aaron’s cheeks turn shades of red. “The wood’s a little damp yet. I leaned them against a tree outside while I blanketed the horse, and they fell in the snow. Let them dry by the fire and I’ll show you how to use them, Aaron. Mari can help.” Uncle Ike winked.

Marianna didn’t know what to say, but she refused to respond to her uncle. Instead she moved to the chair and sat by Aaron’s side, cuddling Joy close.

“So what else did you draw?” She leaned forward and peered at the sketchbook. “All the kids at school used to tell you the same thing, ‘Draw this, draw that, Aaron.’”

“
Ja, ja
, I remember. I remember something else too.” He picked up his pencil and started drawing a little kitten, curled next to the cat. “I remember out of everyone, you appreciated my drawings most. You always like to see what I’d sketched down at the pond or in the barn.” His pencil stilled and he looked to Ellie, Josiah, Charlie, Joy, and then to her. “And yer uncle is right. Yer going to make a great mom some day, Marianna.”