“Ne, of course not. But it still hurts.”

  “It hurts, but sometimes we let it fester, making it hurt even more.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Mem leaned forward on her chair and fixed her eyes on Joy and her toys as if the words to come were hard to get out. “For so long, Marianna, I spent my time burdened by the weight of everyone’s opinion of me. I was that woman who nearly gave her heart to an Englischman at the expense of her family. I was that woman who lost her girls. Then I became the mother whose son left the Amish.”

  She glanced up at Marianna. Mem blinked back tears. “At first, I liked it in Montana because no one knew me. Then, as your dat and I have been reading the Bible more, I’ve realized that what others think matters not as much as what God thinks. Even our Lord Jesus was accused of being the prince of demons. Can you imagine? Heartache has hit our family, and I’ve made choices I’m not proud of. People may continue to talk, but it’s God and me in the end. I hate to think of all the years I carried the burden of others’ opinions. Just a waste of time and energy.”

  “Yes, but this goes beyond the Amish community. That photo of me was spread in magazines and online.”

  “And…still, do their opinions matter? People love Ben, and they love his music. They might find an interest in who he marries, but I guess they’ll soon be chasing another story.”

  Mem moved over, closer to Marianna, and took her hand. “You have to let it go. You really do. Learn from me, daughter. Those burdens are too much to carry and get you nowhere.” She gently touched Marianna’s cheek and smiled. “I know who you are. I know who Ben is. God does too. Remember this. Think of what really matters.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Monday, July 3, Scapegoat Wilderness, Montana

  With the fire just a warm glow, Ben kicked off his boots and climbed into his sleeping bag. It was hard to imagine that folks were already setting off fireworks down in the valley for an early celebration of the Fourth of July. Up here in the mountains, everything was quiet, still—including Ben’s heart.

  Somehow, over the miles of trail, all the busy, hurried thoughts of the last few months had stilled to the steady rhythm of the horse’s hooves. Ben had insisted on walking more than the other two, and his legs felt warm and tight after hiking up the trails and along ridges. Now, with nightfall, there was a change in the air—a danger with the darkness, as if the wild country around him had just been playing nice when the sun was out. But even in the dark, he felt more settled, freer.

  They couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful moonlit night. The howl of a coyote carried down into the hill just beyond them, and then it swept up again, causing a second echo. It was peaceful here, and he wished he could show Marianna how the stars looked.

  Ben let his eyes flutter closed, and as his breaths grew steady, he prayed for her. He prayed for himself also. Prayed for answers. He prayed for this peace to settle into the deepest parts of his soul. How could he celebrate in marriage while knowing his actions meant Jason would never have a bride? His soft breathing soon matched his prayers. Out with worry, in with peace. Out…

  A man’s scream split through the dark night. Ben bolted upright. He gasped for breath as he tried to remember where he was.

  “Ben? You all right?” Abe called from somewhere in the darkness.

  Ben turned his face in the direction of Abe’s voice. “Who was that? Did you hear that man scream?”

  “Ben, it was you,” Ike called from within his tent.

  “Me? What do you mean? I just laid down.”

  Ike’s voice was gruff. “Just laid down? It’s the middle of the night. You’ve been sleeping for at least a few hours.”

  Ben ran his hand through his hair, causing it to stand on end. Had he been dreaming? Of course he had. Over the last week, his dreams about Jason had come as regularly as Ike’s morning visits to the Kraft and Grocery.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.” Ben slipped back down into his sleeping bag.

  The other men were silent for a while, then Ike cleared his throat. “Ben, who’s Jason?”

  Ben’s throat felt tight, as if the scream had scratched its way out of his throat. He tried to clear it. “We can talk about it tomorrow. It’s late.”

  There was a shuffling sound and the unzipping of the other tent’s zipper. “Well, I’m awake now.” The voice came from outside the tent. Ike must now be sitting next to the small, smoldering fire.

  “Ja, me too,” Abe softly called out from the other side of his brother.

  Ben got out of his sleeping bag, slid on his fleece jacket, and joined them. He sat on one of the logs they’d set up as seats earlier in the evening. He lifted his eyes to the stars as if counting on them to give him courage.

  Ben tried to find the words, realizing that although Jason was always a part of his thoughts, he didn’t talk about him much. “Jason was my best friend since I was five. His house was two doors down from mine, and he stayed as many nights at my house growing up as he did his own. And vice versa.” A sad smile lifted Ben’s lips as the memories flooded in.

  “If I was the daredevil, Jason was the peacemaker. I got us into trouble, and Jason talked us out of the consequences. He played baseball because of me but mostly sat on the bench. I learned about music because of him, actually. His father was the band teacher, and I would never have signed up for any music class if it hadn’t been for him. That, and Jason taught me how to play the guitar one sleepover at a time. Looking back, I’m not sure why his parents didn’t tell us to quiet down more than they did.”

  “So I suppose that learnin’ helped you become the singer and musician you are?” Ike’s voice rose with the question.

  “No doubt. While Jason went to Chapman University to get his music degree, I went on the road. I started singing at state fairs and barbecue joints. I didn’t make much money and even took a job one summer in Montana for the Forest Service, clearing brush and cutting fire lines. That’s how I grew to love the place.”

  “And then something happened to Jason.” Ike’s words were more a statement than a question.

  “You can say that again.” Emotion rumbled in Ben’s chest like shale rock sliding down a ridge. Ben found himself slipping into it, being carried away.

  “After that summer, I hit it big. A bigwig music manager who had a summer house in Montana heard me at an open mic event at a city park. Before I knew it, I was on big stages, and according to People magazine, I was the next John Mayer, except with a mix of rock and country vibe. The country thing took me by surprise, but I leaned into it. Pretty soon, I was living the dream, and when I made it home one weekend, I wanted Jason to celebrate with me.”

  A cold wind blew, and Ben tucked his hands deeper into the pockets of his fleece jacket. A shiver ran down his spine. He sucked in a cold breath as the memories found him, even on this mountain.

  Every hour of that day was forever stuck in Ben’s mind, and scenes clicked through like still images captured in time. The dinner out and the girls they’d picked up, trying to impress. Drinks sitting on an outcropping overlooking the beach. Jason declining drinks…until he hadn’t anymore. Then taking a taxi home. Ben struggling to get Jason into his parents’ house.

  Jason’s parents had been out of town at their class reunion. Otherwise, they’d most likely have awakened and immediately spotted how much trouble Jason was in.

  “My friend wasn’t one to drink, ever, and didn’t have a tolerance for it. Add that to the fact that he’d always been smaller than me and was about forty pounds lighter. He was nearly unconscious when I dropped him off on the sofa, and I was too gone to notice if he was already blue or had clammy skin.”

  The words tumbled out now, escaping Ben’s tight grip on them for years. “I didn’t wake up until noon the next day, and by the time I found him in the same sitting-up position with his head tilted back that I’d left him in, he’d been dead for hours.

  “I called 9-1-1, but his body was already cold and stiff. He was only twenty then, and I was a legal adult who’d provided him with the alcohol. Because of his death, I was fined and faced jail time. Then, instead of serving the full year, the judge let me out early and ordered me to write a letter every week to a minor who’d been caught drinking⁠—something I’ve been doing since that time. Because of my name and newfound faith, the judge thought it would have more impact than just jail time alone.”

  “So, were you dreaming about him tonight? Is that why you called out his name?” Abe asked.

  “I guess I was, but I don’t remember what I was dreaming exactly. I’ve been thinking about him a lot, you know, how I’m the one getting married and planning a good future. And the fact that he isn’t.”

  Abe shifted. “Have you talked to Marianna about all this?”

  “Yes, some, but it scared me, you know? Jason’s death isn’t the only thing I have regrets about. And sometimes, especially in the last few weeks, I keep wondering if I’m just being selfish. If there’s someone out there better for Marianna. Someone without all this pain and baggage they’re carrying around like those heavy packs on Ike’s mule.”

  Abe tugged on his beard as if considering it. “That could be the case. Maybe there’s an Amishman who’s never put a friend in danger, who followed the straight and narrow during his rumspringa and has stuck by every rule. Would that make you feel better?”

  “Well, does he love God?” Ben asked.

  Abe nodded. “Says he does.”

  “But a true relationship?”

  Abe shrugged. “As you know, judging a man’s heart is hard.”

  Ben blew out an exasperated breath. “Well, you know what I’m talking about. Someone better who’s maybe not Amish.”

  “And could there be anyone out there who doesn’t have what you call ‘baggage’? Sometimes things happen to us. Other times we make mistakes. They’re all burdens, and we can either try to give these things to the Lord, or we can keep carrying them.”

  Ike sat between the two, listening. And from the look on Ike’s face, Ben wondered if he was taking it all in too.

  “I’ve tried to give it to the Lord, but the memories are there. The regrets are there.”

  Ike pointed his finger into the air. “Which I believe is a good thing. Regrets remind us what not to do next time, don’t you think?”

  Ben folded his hands behind his head and lifted his face to the stars. “I wish things were just easier, you know? I love her so much I want to ensure she has the type of love and a husband she deserves.”

  “You know, if someone had told me a year ago that I would be trying to convince an Englischman—a singer and musician—that he’s good enough to marry my daughter, I would have called that person a liar and a fool.” Abe smiled. “As you know, I love my daughter more than one can imagine. Marianna was the balm to my soul and Ruth’s soul after the loss of our daughters. I wouldn’t tell you that God’s hand was in this marriage unless I thought it was.”

  Ben’s eyes welled up at Abe’s reassurance. He needed to hear these words. He needed this conversation. Ben blew out his cheeks, willing himself not to start crying. The other two men were already dealing with being woken up from a deep sleep. They didn’t need to deal with a blubbering fool too.

  “With that being said, I think it’s time for us to go back to sleep.” Ike stretched out the last word for emphasis as he moved back to his tent. Abe nodded and did the same.

  Around Ben, the wind swept down the mountain, carrying with it a soft hushing as if the mountains were shushing him back to sleep.

  Instead of answering Ike, Ben also moved back to his tent and snuggled down deeper into his sleeping bag. His eyes fluttered closed, and he realized that some of the baggage might have lifted tonight. Talking with his friends had lightened his load and helped him to understand that maybe God did have a good plan for Marianna…one that he was part of too.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Tuesday, July 4, Scapegoat Wilderness, Montana

  Ben would have thought it was the middle of winter, because the wind nipped his face as he peeked his head out of the sleeping bag in the morning. The air smelled of spruce, and a chilly breeze slid down from the snow-covered peaks above. Birds chattered in the trees, and he hummed along with them.

  Glancing up, he saw the mountains had lost their peaks in the clouds, and it was hard to believe that they’d reach the closest one by the end of the day. Steep, narrow trails awaited them—or so Ike had warned. If the last three days were an easy ride, he couldn’t imagine today. As Ben sat up, he felt every inch of the many miles they’d walked and ridden yesterday.

  Looking around, he spotted Abe walking down toward the river with a fishing pole. Fish for breakfast? It didn’t seem wrong to him. Ike followed after his brother, hands tucked into his pockets.

  Ben quickly climbed from his sleeping bag, slid on his fleece jacket, and slipped his feet into his boots. Running his fingers through his hair, he whistled the tune to The Andy Griffith Show. At the same time, he tried to push down the ache in his chest. A pain that reminded Ben he couldn’t even enjoy a getaway in the mountains without his past tagging along. Last night was proof of that.

  At least he felt more peace about Abe’s feelings about him marrying Marianna. More settled that Marianna’s family approved, which he supposed was a miracle.

  Ben walked in the direction of the other men, pushing those thoughts out of his mind for now. White, purple, and yellow wildflowers swayed in the grass near his feet. He couldn’t help but think about all those poor souls who’d soon be stuck in Los Angeles traffic like he’d been most of his life. It amazed him that he was here of all places. He shuddered to think he could still be living that lifestyle, spending every moment trying to find success and be noticed.

  Lush green foliage led into a wide rocky shore that lined both sides of the river. The water looked clear but a bit chalky at the same time.

  “Is there something clouding that up?” Ben asked as he approached the river.

  “It’s the limestone the water runs over. Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  Morning light glimmered over the surface, sparkling like a million jewels. Ben gave a low whistle. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  Abe cast the first line into the gently flowing water.

  Ben watched with curiosity. “Think you’ll catch anything?”

  “Oh, we’ll have some trout, don’t you worry,” Ike said, answering for his brother. “You can’t see them, but the cutthroat up in these parts take on the river’s pale color.”

  Abe slowly turned his reel with his eyes fixed on his line.

  “Today’s gonna be a great day,” Ike added. “Not too far ahead, we’re going to be able to see the Chinese Wall—just a part of it, of course. It runs over fifty miles.”

  Abe sat hunkered down at the creek, looking up at the sky. “I’ve never seen a more beautiful sunrise.”

  Ben sat on a large rock not far from him.

  Ike glanced to the sky and rubbed the shadow of a growing beard. “Ja, the sun hasn’t risen yet since it’s still behind the mountains.”

  Abe smiled. “But the golden rays…they do brighten the sky.”

  “And you better hurry and catch something so we can get going. It’ll take the day to ride to where I’d like to sleep tonight.” Ike’s voice teased, and Ben wondered if he regretted heading into the mountains with two newbies, especially because they were now behind schedule. While he and Abe were both in good shape and could keep up, most of the work packing up the animals, tending to their needs, and setting up and putting away camp was up to Ike.

  A wheezing cry filled the air. Then a warbling call—deep, full, and reverberating. The hairs on the back of Ben’s neck rose. The noise came from the direction where the horse was picketed. “What’s that? I sure hope it wasn’t a grizzly.”

  Ike looked to Ben, eyes wide. “How fast can you run?”

  “Are you serious?”

  Ike posed as if he were ready to run back to their camp.

  Abe waved his free hand. “Don’t listen to Ike. It’s the mule.” Abe chuckled. “Quite the noise, isn’t it?”

  A bit of a grin twitched on Ike as he hunkered down to fill his water bottle from the creek. “Up in these parts, they call mules mountain canaries. But that would be a sad canary to sing like that.”

  Before long, breakfast was caught, and Abe and Ike cleaned and cooked the fish. They were delicious, but Ben couldn’t get Marianna off his mind. Since they were continuing over the Continental Divide, it would be even longer until he saw her again.

  “This isn’t the journey we thought it would be, is it, Abe?” Ben asked. “I thought we’d be turning back by now.”

  “It never is, just like life. We set our eyes on the peaks and don’t realize what it takes to get there. And I’m talking about marriage especially.”

  Ben waited quietly. He guessed that sometime on this trip, Abe would want to talk more about the upcoming wedding to his daughter. And the marriage to follow. Getting approval was just step one.

  “No marriage is easy, or so I’ve been told,” Ben admitted. “But I guess ours will be especially hard when one person was raised Amish and the other anything but.”

  “For any marriage, it’s tough. Each one has different challenges. To be honest, there were a few times when I was certain that Ruth and I wouldn’t make it.”

  “But Amish don’t believe in divorce,” Ike piped in.

  “That’s true, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen.” Abe took in a deep breath. His forehead folded, and his eyes squinted as he eyed the rising sun. “Ja, I have known of divorce of an Amish couple once, but since they can never remarry, it usually deters most Amish. Still, I was certain that would happen to us for a time.”