He listened to the sound of the creek and thought of the still waters. Of Marianna. Ben rubbed his brow and remembered his last time at the beaver pond. What could have been a beautiful moment had gone so wrong. Why?

  What had they even argued about? Marianna was concerned about the wedding. She was worried about how to make everyone happy. And his mind had been on the news he’d heard from Stacy Cannon—how their community would be invaded by the media, and all because of him. He also thought of Jason and the text from Hannah. Her anger was justified. She’d lost her brother. Yet should guilt keep Ben from marrying and planning a promising future with Marianna?

  He closed his eyes, thinking about Marianna and what he’d say now if he saw her. He’d listen as she shared her heart about the wedding. And then he’d take her hands in his and tell her that what mattered most was the marriage to follow. All the days of their life together.

  Ben sighed, imagining their cabin, sitting before the fire and watching the snow fall outside. He thought about next spring and planting a garden together. He considered the joy in her eyes when he told her the next addition he was already planning—a nursery for a baby or two.

  One image settled him most—the thought of dancing around the living room, trying to be quiet as their babies slept. Then, finally, his eyes drifted closed.

  Ben yawned and stretched his arms from under the sleeping bag, feeling sunshine warm his face. Slowly, the memory returned of their trail ride and—Ben sat up with a start. The bear. He glanced around, heart pounding. It was morning, and he’d fallen asleep. He hadn’t stayed up in fear, and they were all right.

  Abe lay beside him, and his eyes fluttered as if he were trying to open them. A low moan escaped Abe’s lips.

  Ben tried to keep his voice low. “Abe. How are you doing?”

  The sound of the creek in the distance caused Ben to smack his lips. His mouth was dry, but the idea of having to walk to the creek for water again caused goosebumps to rise on his arms. Still, he had to get water. He had to take care of Abe until Ike brought help. He couldn’t allow his fears to overwhelm him and shut him down. He was all Abe had right now. Yet, to walk to the creek meant he could stumble across that grizzly again. Or even more. He’d also be leaving Abe alone.

  “Whose idea was this—to go four days into the Bob Marshall Wilderness?” Ben muttered to himself.

  Abe’s lips parted. “God’s.” The words were no more than a whisper.

  Ben narrowed his eyes as unexpected anger rose within him. He pulled his shoulders back and lifted his face to the sky. Really, this was God’s plan? How could this be God’s plan? Abe hurt. Ike alone and hiking out with an injured ankle. Ben was more scared than he’d ever been in his life. If God loved him—loved them—how could He let this happen? It made no sense. It didn’t make sense that God had let Jason or Marianna’s sisters die.

  It was so much easier to have faith when things were going right.

  Ben pushed the sleeping bag to the side and stood. “This is God’s idea, huh? Then I suppose I’ll just have to see what comes next. Either I’m able to get water, or I get eaten.” He moved to his small pile of supplies, thankful for the water bottles with filters. He picked a couple up and walked toward the creek, scanning the trees. The forest was quiet, peaceful even. Yet nothing in Ben’s heart felt peaceful. The familiar ache grew, expanding from his heart and taking over his chest. It moved upward, causing his throat to grow tight. Ben squeezed his eyes shut to keep the tears from coming.

  He kneeled at the side of the creek and filled the bottles with water. A familiar phrase filled his mind as he tried to keep the bottled-up emotions from spilling. Sometimes God requires us to face hard things, Ben. If you cry, you’re telling God you don’t trust Him, his father had said more than once when leaving for a trip.

  The words haunted him even here, on the top of a mountain. He was far from California, but he still told himself he couldn’t cry. He had to have faith.

  Ben’s eyes stung. He rubbed them, rose, and hurried back to Abe.

  Abe’s eyes were open, and he allowed Ben to lift his head as he drank from the water bottle. Abe drank hungrily, and Ben drank from his own water bottle when he was finished.

  Then, without hesitation, Ben moved to his small pile of supplies again. Somewhere overhead, a bird sang, but the ache inside didn’t release.

  Do you trust God, Ben? he chided himself. I’m so quick to tell everyone at my concerts about God, but what about now? Do I really believe it?

  He pushed those thoughts from his mind too.

  They didn’t have much to eat, and Ben knew that it was more critical that Abe eat. He pulled one of the granola bars from the stash Ike had left and took it out of the wrapper.

  “I have breakfast for you, although it’s not as good as what we’d get from the Kraft and Grocery.”

  “Don’t mention the wonderful food…” Abe moaned.

  “You’re right. Let’s not think about the…” Cinnamon rolls and the biscuits and gravy. His stomach growled, but the ache in his heart pierced even more. “Yes, let’s not think about that.”

  Ben felt strange feeding the granola bar to Abe, but it was clear the man didn’t have any strength.

  Abe took a bite, chewed it, and swallowed. “What about you?”

  “Me?” Ben shrugged as if the hunger didn’t bother him. “I’ll eat later.”

  Abe narrowed his gaze.

  Ben nodded. “I promise, later.”

  After Abe ate the granola bar, Ben checked the bandages on his leg. The blood still hadn’t soaked through, which was a good sign. Since they didn’t have more bandages and the only extra shirt was the one on his back, Ben decided it was probably better to keep the bandages like they were rather than mess with them. The break caused his mouth to grow dry and his stomach to constrict. It was splinted, but was that enough? He hoped it was.

  “How’s the pain?” Ben dared to ask.

  “Doesn’t bother me much unless I try to breathe. I definitely don’t want to try to move.”

  Ben smiled. “Don’t move, but keep breathing, please. You have some womenfolk at home that want you back.”

  Abe’s eyes fluttered closed. “I’ll do my best. But I need to ask…what’s going on?”

  Ben stilled. His shoulders tightened, and he knew Abe was no longer talking about the food or the pain when he moved. But worries about Ben were the last thing Abe needed.

  “Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s fine.”

  “Ja, well, it’s all right for you to be mad at God for letting this happen.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “We…” Abe adjusted slightly and winced. “We were just trying to have a nice adventure.” Abe sucked in a deep breath and released it. “I was just trying to enjoy time with my family—we were coming home from an ice-cream social when we lost my daughters, you know.”

  Ben nodded but couldn’t speak. His lower lip trembled. The tension in his chest increased, and everything within him told him to run. Run from this conversation. Run from the pain. The only problem was there were bears out there—and other dangers he didn’t want to think about.

  They sat in silence as the minutes ticked by, and then the tears started to come. Maybe he didn’t have faith, and perhaps now Abe would see that he wasn’t a good fit for Marianna after all.

  “My dad works in the state office for our church denomination,” Ben finally said, his voice flat. “He travels a lot supporting missionaries. He has since I was young. My mom travels with him. She always traveled with him, but I stayed behind because I was in school.”

  Abe’s eyes were open barely a slit. “Does not seem much of a childhood.”

  “Or adulthood. I can count the days they’ve been around on one hand.”

  “When your friend died?”

  Ben shook his head.

  “When you were put in jail for your involvement in—”

  “Jason’s death. No, but they managed to call.” Ben shrugged. “And they’re in Southeast Asia and won’t be able to make it for the wedding either.” His lip curled up. “I guess God cares more about lost souls out there than me or what I need.”

  “Is that what you think?” Abe’s eyes were closed now, and his breathing was steady.

  “It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?”

  Abe opened one eye. “It’s okay to be angry at God at times,” Abe repeated. “He can handle it. But sometimes we place the failings of men and women—their poor decisions—on God.”

  “Are you saying God didn’t ask them to leave me behind?”

  “I’m saying that it no doubt hurt His heart to see you hurting and alone—then and now.”

  A low gasp escaped Ben’s lips, and tears broke through. It really hurts God’s heart to see me hurting?

  “I bet all those times you were crying, He was crying with you, Ben,” Abe said just before sleep overtook him.

  Ben’s eyes burned, and he curled to his side, letting the pain he’d bottled up inside for most of his life seep out of his heart like sand sifting through one’s fingers.

  God, You’re here. You care… Ben had told himself for years he believed that. But as the waves of release moved through him, stuck here high in the mountain, he really felt it.

  For the first time in his life, he truly believed it.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Thursday, July 6, West Kootenai, Montana

  Marianna yawned wide as she pulled the muffin tins from the commercial oven, breathing in the aroma of apples and cinnamon. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong on the mountain. Worries filled her mind, and although she prayed, she couldn’t just sit. She couldn’t watch the clock and wonder if any minute bad news would be coming. Instead, she’d come in early for her shift and decided to bake some of Annie’s favorite muffins. Still, it was hard to think about anything else.

  Did she have to wait three more days before hearing anything from Ben, Dat, and Uncle Ike? The other night, Annie’s sternness with the girls reminded Marianna they lived in a wild, untamed, and sometimes unfriendly place. How much more so up in the wilderness?

  “Take a break and enjoy some of the fruit from your labor,” Annie said with a smile, interrupting her worries. “I’m not sure you noticed—you’ve been so lost in your thoughts—but I’ve already eaten two.” Annie rubbed her stomach. She was the same, carefree Annie that Marianna always knew, but she’d seen a different side of Annie Tuesday night. I’m sure she’s seen so much during her years as an outfitter. Annie was right. Children need to learn.

  “Thank you, I think I will.” She removed her flour-spotted apron and washed her hands. “My stomach has been rumbling, and I could use some coffee.”

  Grabbing an apple cinnamon muffin, Marianna was pleased to see Millie Arnold sitting in the dining room area and enjoying a cup of coffee. Even though Millie had to be older than Marianna’s Aunt Ida, she moved with the energy of a much younger woman.

  Returning to their conversation at church, Marianna thought again how different Millie’s life had become after living in Seattle. Somehow the city girl had made a home for herself in the rugged country of Montana, and she’d stayed married through the ups and downs of life’s challenges. Marianna poured herself a cup of coffee to go with her muffin and hurried in Millie’s direction.

  “Sweet girl, what are all those worry lines I see across your forehead?” Millie cooed as Marianna sat across from her. “Are you thinking about your wedding? I know all the decisions can be so much.”

  Marianna nodded. Yes, it was easier talking about the wedding than about worries about Ben in the wilderness, entertainment reporters, photos, and stories of her and Ben all over the internet.

  “Oh, Millie, the more I think about our wedding, the more I’m afraid I’ll make the wrong decisions.”

  Millie took a sip of her coffee. “How can marrying a godly man who loves you wholeheartedly be wrong?”

  “I’m not talking about marrying Ben. That is the good part. The hard part is figuring out how to mesh our Amish ways with Englisch ones. No matter what we choose, someone’s going to be disappointed.”

  “Someone?”

  “My parents—or more specifically, my mem. The other Amish women.” Marianna sighed. And maybe I’m disappointed in myself too, she wanted to say. Perhaps I wouldn’t have had to deal with this if I hadn’t fallen in love outside my culture. But instead of focusing on that, she narrowed her gaze on Millie. “Then there is Ben to think about. He doesn’t understand Amish tradition, and he’s experienced things differently.”

  “And what’s the worst thing that can happen if you make a decision that someone doesn’t like?”

  “I suppose they’ll be disappointed.” Marianna took a bite of her muffin, feeling her shoulders relax. She had a feeling she knew where Millie was going to go with that answer.

  “Well, darling, in my opinion, this isn’t an Amish or Englisch problem. No matter what you decide, someone will always be disappointed. I guarantee that. What I’m more concerned about is why it matters so much to you that someone is disappointed.”

  “Why it matters?” Marianna let the words replay in her head. “Well, it should matter, shouldn’t it? I mean, I want everyone to enjoy the day. I don’t want Mem or our Amish family to feel uncomfortable. Then there’s the idea that it will be written up in The Budget. Or worse, no one will mention it and just shun us.”

  “Oh, then many people will be disappointed, won’t they? Or…will they just be curious? Will they be hurt by your decisions, or will it just be something for them to chatter about when they meet up for Sunday church?”

  Marianna had to think about it. “Well…I don’t know.”

  “Will anyone actually be hurt by your decision? In the end, I feel your mem will find joy in the fact that her daughter is happy and a good man’s wife.”

  Marianna watched a group of Amish children entering the store with their mem. They walked behind her calmly, looking at the items on the shelves but not daring to touch anything.

  We are an example of God’s ways to a watching world. She’d been told that a dozen times if she’d been told that once.

  “All my life I’ve been taught to be concerned with what others think,” she explained to Millie. “The Amish have certain standards. We learn to do what we ought because we’re told someone’s always watching.”

  “They may be watching, but in my opinion, we ought not always be concerned about what they think.” Millie smiled. “When Ben gets home, talk to him…and listen. That’s the important part. Then the two of you decide on how you want your wedding to be. Then the rest of us…well, that day, we’ll all be so thrilled by you two coming together that it won’t matter if we get our way.”

  “Thank you, Millie. I’ll take that advice. I promise, when Ben gets back, we’ll sit and have a long talk about what really matters. Just me and him.”

  Thursday, July 6, Scapegoat Wilderness, Montana

  As Abe slept, Ben knew he needed to find food. He didn’t have any idea how long it would be before help came, but the two granola bars they had left wouldn’t tide them over.

  Ben pulled out the booklet of edible plants. Not once when they’d been coming up the trail had he looked at a plant and thought, That looks good. I want to eat that. The truth now was that the purpose of food was survival. He flipped through the pages and looked at the color illustrations, trying to see if anything looked familiar. From the descriptions, he saw that most edible plants were helpful for tea or herbs to use for cooking. As Ben’s stomach growled, he knew he wanted more than tea.

  Abe’s eyes opened, and Ben thought it wouldn’t hurt to ask for help. Surely Abe knew more about finding food in the wilderness than he did.

  “Do you need more water?” Ben reached for Abe’s water bottle. Abe nodded and allowed Ben to hold the water bottle to his lips as he took a long drink.

  Abe glanced around. “How long has Ike been gone?”

  “He headed out two days ago, but his ankle was in pretty rough shape.” Ben forced a smile. “The good news is we’ve made it this long. The bad news is we’re out of jerky and only have two granola bars left.” He held up the booklet of edible plants. “I looked at this, and unless we want a cup of tea, I don’t think it’ll do much good. I was wondering if you could tell me how to fish without a pole or make a rabbit trap.”

  Abe rubbed his brow. “Have you seen any rabbits?”

  Ben shook his head. “Well, near the truck, but not up this far.”

  “Then it might be hard to trap something you haven’t seen.”

  Ben’s shoulders slumped.

  “Are you sure all you had in your backpack was granola bars? That doesn’t seem like Annie to me. I mean, as much as she packed everything else for you. In fact, she’s the one that gave me that jerky.”

  Ben thought of the torn pack. “But I turned it over and dumped it out.”

  “Did you check the bottom zipper?”

  Ben scurried over to the ripped-up backpack. “Bottom zipper?” He laid it out flat, and as he did, he noticed an exterior pocket he hadn’t seen before. Quickly unzipping it, laughter spilled from Ben’s mouth. “Abe, you’re right. And I will give Annie the biggest hug when I get back.” He pulled out two food pouches and waved them in the air. “I thought I would have to learn to skin a rabbit, but look here. This pouch has peanut butter and oatmeal. And this one, red beans and rice.” He turned the packet over to look at it. “All we have to do is add hot water to the pouches.”

  Ben pulled out something that looked like a foldable dog dish. Still, when he opened it, an illustration showed that it was a collapsible kettle with a handle to heat up water for the food pouches. “And look at this. Annie’s going to get more than a hug. I’ll name my first child after her…if it’s a girl, of course.”