Along Wooded Paths (6 page)

Aaron forced a small chuckle. “I wonder what the bishop will think of all the technology in my leg.” He sighed. “But that means I can’t move around much. Not for six weeks soonest. Could be longer.”

Six weeks? Marianna looked to Mem.

Mem’s jaw tensed, and her lips moved as if chewing down words that rushed to break through. She glanced at Marianna, then averted her eyes as if realizing she’d dug a hole that swallowed them all. Marianna would have a chance to spend time with Aaron, all right. No going around that now.

Marianna scooted a kitchen chair closer to Aaron and sat. “I’m sorry to hear that. It’s a long time to lay around, but we’ll do our best to tend to you.”

Aaron wet his lips and his eyes met hers. He blinked and she could tell he attempted to find words to turn their conversation to a more pleasant subject, but pain reflected in his eyes. His face reddened. Sweat beaded on his forehead. She reached for Aaron’s hand and he wrapped his large hand around hers tight—as if holding it would provide the relief he needed.

Her throat tensed and tears pooled. How selfish she’d been to worry that Aaron’s being here would be a bother to her. He was in pain. This was a serious injury. And it could have been worse.

I could have lost him.
Could she imagine her life without Aaron?

Her thumb stroked the top of his hand—the most physical contact they’d ever had. Somehow it seemed natural, right. “Do you need anything? Did they provide you with medication for the pain?”

“
Ja, ja
. But it’s not working as I’d like.” Aaron squared his shoulders. “The ride up here . . . think I tensed up because of the snow on the road. Couldna rest. Could not get comfortable. And when we passed the spot where the accident happened . . .” He shook his head.

“How’d it happen?” Charlie piped up, for the first time being brave enough to join the adult conversation.

“Charlie, he don’t need to be sharing.” Marianna looked to her hands. The roads up to the West Kootenai were dangerous even during good weather. The highway ride wasn’t bad, but then it turned onto a small, windy road. Then, once over the bridge, a wide, gravel path wound up the mountain with a steep cliff on one side, falling to the lake. Who would have guessed a whole community used that as their main thoroughfare. She disliked automobile travel on these roads as it was, although she agreed with her father. If she had to travel with anyone, it would be Ben who she’d trust.

She fixed her gaze on her brother. “I’m sure Aaron needs to rest. We don’t need to bother him with that now.”

“I don’t mind. Just an icy road, that’s all. Happened so fast. The van turning, sliding. My side hitting a tree. The tree falling.” Aaron closed his eyes and swallowed hard.

The room fell silent. The tension in the air made the heat from the woodstove feel heavy, dense. Though no one said it, all thoughts were on her parents’ buggy accident so long ago. Charlie shifted on his cushion as if waiting for Aaron to give more details. Aaron lowered his head instead. Charlie glanced around. Something was wrong but he wasn’t sure what. Unlike Marianna, to the young boy the accident long ago was only a story. All he knew was his family now—his one older sister. He hadn’t grown up with the pain of the loss of two others. Marianna and her parents had hid their pain well.

The dog’s yawn broke the silence, and Marianna glanced over to see Trapper open his eyes and stretch. Then Trapper rose and trotted to her from in front of the woodstove where he’d been napping. He wagged his tail, as if forgetting he’d already greeted Marianna not ten minutes ago. He sniffed Aaron, then sat next to the sofa near where his hand rested. Aaron patted the dog, much to Trapper’s approval.

They sat there in silence. Finally Marianna took a deep breath. “At least yer on the mend, cared for by friends.”

Aaron’s eyes darted to hers. He studied her face as if searching for the meaning behind that word friends. She wished she could explain—ease his fears whatever they were. But this wasn’t the time. Her parents and brothers still sat, listening. She could tell from Mem and Dat’s faces they, too, wondered how things would turn out with Aaron around.

“Yes, it is nice to be with folks I know. And now that I’ll be around fer a while I wonder if you could introduce me to some of your other friends.”

“Oh, yes—we have a nice Amish community.” She touched her kapp for emphasis.

“Those friends and others. I’d like to meet them.” Aaron released her hand and leaned back, allowing his head to sink deeper into the pillow. “I hear that Englischer driver your dat mentioned has become a close friend.”

Ben? How much did Aaron know about Ben? What had he heard?

No doubt he’d heard rumors circulating around the community. Rebecca had written just last week about all the ideas spreading on why Marianna had purchased a ticket, boarded a train, then before she got far returned home with an Englischman driving her back. How they learned even that much Marianna didn’t know. She’d written to Aaron, Rebecca, and Aunt Ida, explaining that her family still needed her. Hadn’t they believed her?

Obviously not. Aaron was here, wasn’t he?

Aaron shifted as if he sat on nails, not a soft cushioned couch, then he touched Marianna’s arm. “At least I have no worry of yer family tossing me out in the cold. To the barn maybe . . .” He forced a pained laugh and Marianna joined him.

She rose, placing a balled fist on her hip. “You don’t know that yet.” Then she lifted her finger and wagged it. “I grew up with you, remember? I know the type of pranks you like to play, Aaron Zook.” She cocked her head, lifted an eyebrow, and eyed him. “Least I can keep you in my sights with your leg all plastered up like that. If anything we’ll get to talk about all the things neither of us got around to writing about.”

Aaron nodded. “It’s true. There is so much—” He glanced around, as if remembering her parents were still in the room. “I’d like that, Marianna.” Aaron scratched his leg just above his cast. “Really I would.”

Dear Journal,

There are things that surprise me, but mostly it’s my emotions that can’t be hidden under a kapp or plain dress. Can truth be seen in my eyes? Sometimes I worry. The fact is I remember the feeling of Ben’s arms wrapped around me and his breath on my cheek most. Why can’t I sweep the memories away?

I’m surprised by what I forgot, too, like how much I care for Aaron. I forgot how handsome he was. I forgot how much he cares. He built a house with me in mind. That’s all I could think about tonight. When my family sat in the dining room, eating Mem’s hamburger potato dish, I sat in the living room, in the flickering evening light, next to Aaron with a plate on my lap. For a moment in time the voices in the kitchen faded and it was just the two of us. I wondered about the house he built that I never yet saw. I wish I could see it. Maybe some day I’ll ask him to draw me a sketch. Or maybe I won’t. Will it be hard to stay when I know what’s waiting in Indiana?

Why did I stay?

When I looked into Aaron’s eyes I realized I hold part of his heart. Like the flowers that had been waiting in my bedroom when I arrived in Montana, Aaron’s heart was pressed and kept—not between the pages of a book but deep inside me.

Tonight Aaron’s sleeping on the sofa. Tomorrow he’s moving into my room, then he won’t have to go upstairs and it’s close to the indoor bathroom. Tomorrow I’ll be sharing quarters with Ellie and Joy, but maybe I can find a place to tuck this book. There are things I couldn’t write to a friend or talk about out loud, but that doesn’t mean they’re not whipping through my mind all day like the icy wind outside the window. Putting them here helps.

Maybe God can help me settle my mind, just like He settled my heart this summer. Even though it’s still fall, the cold comes quick in these parts. With the snow here now, I doubt I’ll get back to my pond till spring. Yet it warms me to think of the still waters and to remember they’re there, even when I can’t see them. And that God’s with me, even when I canna see Him.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Aaron’s leg throbbed, the pain unrelenting. Heat traveled up his body, down to his toes. His arms trembled and even lifting a glass of water to his lips seemed like too much work.

Waking up in the hospital, he’d almost talked himself into just finding a way back to Indiana. He hadn’t wanted to see Marianna—not like this. He’d come to win her over, and now? He couldn’t even cross the room to the toilet without help.

Yet, when she’d walked through that door, the pain had subsided for a moment, and he remembered again why he’d put so much work into the house. Why he’d come.

For a few months he’d tried to convince himself Mari wasn’t the one he needed by his side. Naomi had become a dear companion during the days after Marianna had left. She was thoughtful and kind. She made him smile. He’d even allowed himself to be swept away in her kisses. Yet being here—seeing Marianna, reminded him of all he loved about her. Her beauty. Her kindness. Her care for others. There was something else too. The nippy air outside had made her cheeks pink and full. Her eyes sparkled. The sadness he remembered in her gaze had faded to a shadow. Aaron liked the way she looked now.

For as long as he could remember, he’d wanted to marry Marianna Sommer, and she made it clear he held her interest too. When he and the other boys had played baseball at recess, he’d always looked to the sidelines to find her eyes on him. She’d been the one to kindly comment on his drawings, and then there were little things she shared. Growing up it had been a cookie, a jar of jam, a small basket of strawberries.

Aaron attempted to turn and stretch, tucking the pillow under his cheek. Pain shot up his leg, turning his stomach. He covered his mouth in his hand, willing himself not to be sick.

He’d been feeling ill all day. The tension from the ride. The pain. He’d eaten dinner because all eyes were on him, but now he wished he’d hadn’t. His body seemed to protest digesting the food when it worked so hard just to deal with the pain.

Would Marianna come if he called out to her? He guessed she would.

She was just on the other side of that wall, in her room. He looked to the living room window and the bright moon outside. Did she lie there, awake, looking at the same moon and thinking of him?

He’d been worried, he had to admit, when the train from Montana had arrived and she hadn’t been on it. He’d understood more the next day when her letter showed up in his mailbox. She’d planned on returning, but her family needed her. She said things had changed, that she changed, and that God still had a plan for her in Montana.

What Aaron had read between the lines—what his heart had feared—was that her feelings for him had changed. Surely if she loved him as much as he loved her, she would have come.

Now, seeing her again, took away some of those worries. Her smile had brightened when she’d glanced at him, and a special spark lit her eyes—despite his mind being fuzzy with pain medication, he’d seen that.

Even with the pain of his leg it was worth comin’. He’d be here—close to her. He had nowhere to go, neither did she. A soft smile curled his lips as he imagined telling the story in years to come about how their love grew after a broken leg brought him into their family’s home for a spell. Would their children have gray eyes like hers? He hoped so. To him Marianna was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen, and he couldn’t wait to make her his—for good.

Outside the sound of the trees rustled, and in the distance Aaron thought he heard a wolf howling to the moon. On the other side of the bedroom door Trapper growled. Aaron perked his ear and listened. The dog’s footsteps clicked on the floor, then the creak of the door. More footsteps followed as Trapper trotted into the room.

“Hey there.” Aaron rubbed his eyes then stretched out a hand to the dog. Trapper sniffed the air and eyed Aaron.

“You comin’ to check on me, boy?”

“Trapper.” Marianna’s voice called from the door in no more than a whisper. “C’mon, you’re gonna wake him.”

Aaron smiled. Should he tell her pain kept him awake? Maybe she’d have sympathy. Maybe she’d come and talk to him for a while.