Laughter spilled from Marianna, who was surprised by her uncle’s antics, although she shouldn’t be. Ike had never fit into the Amish mold. He was a little too outspoken and a lot too bold. Uncle Ike was the one who’d moved to Montana first and urged her family to come.

  “You better be careful, Ike. Word will get out in The Budget that you’ve been dancing at the general store.” Annie joined Marianna’s laughter.

  Ike guffawed, grinned, and then moved to the dining room area, no doubt in search of a cup of coffee, a newspaper, and a bit of peace before he headed off to work at Ben’s place.

  “I promise you I haven’t told Ben anything about your dress.” Annie’s brows lifted. “Or how absolutely stunning you looked in it.” She winked. “Have you thought more about my suggestion? We can fix up the meadow, all pretty like. You can even use my cabin for getting ready.”

  Marianna’s smile faded. How will I ever be able to make a decision about all of this?

  She rubbed her brow, feeling a headache come on. “I knew that once you helped me with that dress your mind would be busy with wanting to tackle all the details.” She tried to keep her tone light even as unease rolled through her like a mounting thundercloud. “It’s something I need to talk to Ben about. We haven’t decided…”

  Soon, it would be their time to plan and dream. Once they were together, hopefully, they wouldn’t be separated like that again for a while. And after all the wedding planning, they could look forward to the rest of their lives.

  Yet it was getting to the “rest of their lives” that caused the churning in her stomach. As much as she couldn’t wait to marry Ben, the details kept her up at night. All she’d known growing up were Amish weddings. And she knew that in Ben’s world, things were done differently. Buying that beautiful satin dress was proof of that.

  Annie glanced at her watch, and Marianna knew she was estimating how much time she had before she needed to head to the kitchen and start prepping for the lunch rush. “Listen, I wanted to show you a rustic design for an arch for the altar I found online. Do you have time to sit a spell? I’ll get us both some coffee and a cinnamon roll.” Annie’s face glowed with excitement as if she was the one getting married.

  Marianna’s shoulders stiffened. Her heartbeat picked up. “How can I refuse that?”

  Everything within her told her to run, to head to the pond where she could think and decide what she really wanted. Instead, she followed Annie to a corner table. As soon as they sat, Annie set a printed picture of an arch before Marianna. “What do you think? Just this at the altar with the view of the mountains behind?”

  Marianna lifted the printout and studied the wooden arch with ladder sides and a wide top reminiscent of an arbor. A lush display of flowers in blues, yellows, and purples wrapped around the sides and top. Ribbons and lace hung down too. Marianna scooted, pressing her back against the hard wooden chair. She placed the printout on the center of the table.

  Annie leaned closer, eagerness in her gaze. “Don’t you like it?” She slid the paper closer to Marianna.

  “It’s…fancy,” Marianna managed to say, covering the paper with her hand. Hesitant breaths mingled with her words.

  “It’s not too fancy, not really.” Then a knowing came into Annie’s eyes. “Oh, I understand. I suppose Amish weddings…”

  “Are simple. There’s not so much fuss.” Marianna sighed. “I’m already worried that some of our family and friends won’t come. Then some will be so focused on my satin dress they won’t think of anything else.”

  Annie patted her hand.

  “It’s something I need to think about. Talk to Ben about—how fancy we want things to be.” Marianna pulled her hand back from Annie’s touch.

  “Yes, of course. It’s just that I haven’t had much chance to plan a wedding. All my closest friends have no thoughts of ever getting married.” Annie’s gaze moved across the room. Following her gaze, Marianna saw that Annie was looking at Ike. He sat at one of the tables, reading The Budget.

  “Uncle Ike is a self-proclaimed bachelor, I know.” Marianna wrinkled her nose, thankful to get the conversation off herself. “I just hope that someday he’ll open his heart.” She studied Annie’s face, hoping for a reaction. Yet while Annie was quick to encourage others to share their hearts, it was as if she had a ten-foot brick wall around hers. “I once overheard Dat say that Uncle Ike was scared of love. Scared of family.”

  Annie opened her mouth as if she was going to protest. But something about Marianna’s comment must have made her change her mind. Annie pinched her chin and leaned forward. “Did your dat—or anyone—ever say why Ike was scared of…family?”

  Another memory came to the surface. Marianna thought about the accident so long ago, which had robbed Mem and Dat of two daughters and caused her to be born early. Maybe Ike carried the same burdens she did concerning their loss. As if no matter what one did—how good or right they tried to live—they could not make up for that painful night.

  “I remember my Aunt Ida talking once.” Marianna studied the wood grain on the table as she answered. “She said Uncle Ike was the first on the scene of the buggy accident—the one where my two sisters died. He was also coming home from the ice-cream social that night.”

  Annie gasped. “If he was at the accident…do you think he saw the girls?”

  Marianna lowered her gaze to her coffee. “Yes, I believe he did. I—I can’t imagine.”

  Taking another sip of her coffee, Annie sat back in the wooden chair. “It’s amazing what we do to protect ourselves, you know. Putting up walls around our hearts to keep away hurt while also missing out on love.” Annie folded the printout. “Or being afraid of making any choice for fear of what others will say.”

  Like fear of choosing a simple arch because it’s too fancy? Fear of wearing the satin dress I fell in love with?

  Marianna blew out her cheeks. “I see your point. And I will talk to Ben about our wedding being in the meadow and about that fancy arch.” She wrapped her hands around her coffee cup. “But I don’t think my uncle and I are the only ones who have put up walls around our hearts. I see a special sparkle in your eyes as we talk about my wedding, and it makes me wonder if you ever thought of getting married.”

  Annie’s jaw dropped, and if Marianna wasn’t mistaken, she noticed a flash of emotion in Annie’s gaze, something similar to longing. Longing for a time past or hope for a time still to come, Marianna wasn’t sure which.

  Annie glanced at her watch again. “Yes, we can talk about these things all day, but the lunch rush should be coming soon, and I need to make sure everything’s ready in the kitchen.” Annie rose without looking at her coffee or cinnamon roll. Yet her eyes moved toward Ike, who just happened to glance up at Annie as she passed. His cheeks lifted in a tender smile.

  Marianna picked up the piece of paper and studied it. The arch was beautiful. The flowers were her favorite colors—did Annie know? She closed her eyes and pictured the arch and the mountains framed behind it. She thought of the aroma of the flowers. How wonderful they’d smell with her standing under them in that white satin dress.

  Mostly she thought about Ben. About how he’d been waiting for her after she’d returned from Indiana. How he’d asked if he could pray for her, and then after praying, asked if she would be his wife.

  A smile curved up her lips, thinking of the way he tenderly loved her. Considering how she trusted him with her heart and with this strange journey they were on—merging two worlds into one. Just a few more days, and he’d be back. Then they wouldn’t have to part again.

  Chapter Seven

  Monday, June 26, West Kootenai, Montana

  The lunch rush came, and Marianna retrieved a sack for the cinnamon rolls after realizing neither she nor Annie had taken a bite. At least the boys would enjoy them, she mused as she walked home. The air smelled sweet, like spring, even though it was summer. Winter had taken its time to depart, and she guessed that spring would stick around a bit to ensure it got its rightful time.

  She had to work tomorrow, so this afternoon would be her one chance to list what really mattered for her wedding. In Amish weddings, the couple sat in chairs at the front while the minister gave a long sermon. Annie had told her that Englisch weddings were much shorter. Their minister focused on the couple and their love for each other rather than a sermon about marriage. Englisch weddings also had love songs instead of hymns. Would Ben want to sing? She smiled at the thought and clasped her hands in front of her.

  Think of the good. Think of what I’ll gain…not all I’m losing. Ben’s love is worth it.

  Marianna’s feet stirred up dirt with each step, yet she chose to fix her gaze not on the road but on the landscape around her. Just a few miles from Canada, their isolated community didn’t have many businesses, but that mattered little compared to the charm. With it being situated in the lovely, forested corner of northwest Montana⁠—between the Purcell and Salish Mountains—Marianna couldn’t imagine a prettier place. Look for the beauty. Remember to focus on that. Ben loves me, and I love him.

  The thought was no sooner in her mind than Marianna’s steps stopped short. Up ahead, their yard was filled with buggies. Had Mem mentioned the company?

  Then she remembered Ellie’s comment about the sewing circle. Was that why Mem had insisted that Marianna head to the store to visit Edgar after breakfast? Was she so ashamed of her daughter, who was due to marry an Englischer, that she wanted to make sure Marianna wasn’t home when her friends were around?

  She hoped that wasn’t the case and smiled as she entered the front door. Marianna stepped into the open kitchen and living room, taking in the aroma of cinnamon and apples and the chatter of women sitting around a sewing frame in the living room. Upon her entrance, every woman in the room grew silent, unmoving—like mannequins in Englisch stores. Then, straightening her shoulders, Mem dared to meet Marianna’s gaze.

  “Well, you’re home early.” Mem’s smile grew stiff as she pushed her sewing project to the side. “I thought you’d be at the store for a few hours catching up with Edgar and the rest.”

  Marianna shut the door behind her and crossed her arms over her chest, unsure of what to do or say. “It was getting busy. I didn’t need to take their time. It was wonderful seeing Edgar, though.” She tried to keep her tone light, but her mind returned to Eve Peachy and the way Eve had shunned her. Marianna scanned the room and saw that Eve wasn’t there, but would these women do the same?

  Today Marianna wore her hair in the tight, neat bun she usually wore under her kapp. Her dress was conservative, too, with sleeves past the elbows and a hem past the knees. But it was not an Amish dress, and she wore no head covering. Those things, she knew, mattered most.

  Drawing in a breath, Marianna scanned the women again. Some returned to their sewing, and others attempted to look in any direction except toward her. She moved to the empty chair, joining the sewing circle. Then she waited. Would anyone comment? Would they ignore her or leave?

  Pretending it didn’t matter, Marianna reached down into her mother’s sewing basket for a needle and thread. She threaded a needle with white thread to join the others. She heard the scraping of chair legs on the wooden floor, then the soft huff from a heavyset woman rising to her feet. Anna Martin, the elder’s wife, strode toward the kitchen with her head held high.

  Knotting the thread, Marianna studied the patterned fabric encased in the sewing frame. With a square in the middle, strips of fabric had been placed in a sequence around the sides of the square, varying the values between light and dark. As her eyes focused, a soft gasp escaped her lips. She recognized the material. Strips of calico with pink flowers, dark blue strips, and more squares in patterns of pink and blue. This fabric was from her childhood dresses, which Joanna and Marilyn had worn before her—treasured dresses cut into uniform strips and placed in a log cabin pattern.

  Then it hit her why the women were so quiet. Her mouth opened slightly and her eyes darted up. “Is this for me?”

  A sly smile filled her mother’s face. “Ja, there was a reason I wanted you to keep away. We’ve managed four gatherings without you being any the wiser. I suppose our luck is up.”

  Marianna touched her hair, which was missing her kapp. “But why?”

  “Things aren’t as strict as back east, but some of the women still didn’t feel comfortable working on a wedding quilt,” one of their Amish neighbors, Deborah Shelter, said plainly. “It was your mother’s idea to work on a memory quilt instead. Few found fault with that.”

  Marianna fixed her eyes on her mother’s solemn gaze. “And you wanted it to be a surprise?”

  Mem nodded.

  “But, Mem, these are the girls’ dresses.” Marianna smoothed her fingers over the fabric once again.

  Mem’s lower lip quivered as she looked to her lap.

  Marianna didn’t know how her mother continued each day, trying to move forward when so much was tied to her past.

  Mem cut up those dresses to make a quilt for me? Warmth swelled in Marianna’s chest, and tears filled her eyes.

  “They were your dresses too. As much as I loved my daughters who were lost, I also love the daughter sitting before me.” Mem jutted out her chin. “And as I told the others, I’ve already had two daughters lost. I will not lose another. I do believe the Amish way of life is still best, but I’ve also learned that there are others who so greatly love God too. And I see that in Ben. I will not shun my first daughter to marry because she chooses to love God differently. I know many won’t agree with that, but I will not go through this loss again.”

  A sniffle sounded next to her, and Marianna looked over to see tears rimming the eyes of Mara Milner, one of their neighbors who’d lost her husband within the last year. Mara cleared her throat. “The older one gets, the more one realizes how fragile life is.” She wiped a tear and turned to Marianna. “There’s enough loss without us having to shun those who are truly seeking God’s way, and I see that in you.”

  Marianna’s eyes moved around the faces of the circle, and she noted slight nods. The only one not within the circle was Brother Jonathan’s wife, Anna. She stood in the kitchen preparing herself a cup of coffee as if nothing else mattered. And as Marianna took in the faces of her neighbors and friends, she knew all had faced at least one significant loss in their lives. Could anyone get through this life unscathed?

  She was starting to think it wasn’t possible. And somehow, their pain had made them more open to seeking small joys wherever they could and more closed to turning their backs on those they loved, even though that’s what their rules demanded.

  Mem released a sigh and then wiped a stray tear and returned to her sewing. All the women joined her. Marianna did, too, making a line of tiny straight stitches. They worked in an uncomfortable silence with Anna Martin looking on, glaring over her coffee cup as she sipped.

  “Do you know of places for family to stay in September?” Mem dared to ask the women, breaking the silence. “Abe’s sister Ida is coming to visit. Our place is full because my sister Betsy is coming along with her kinder.”

  “Coming to the wedding?” Anna Martin’s eyes shot up. Her voice rose in volume. “All this way to see Marianna marry an Englischer? What will the folks back in Indiana say? I imagine someone’s due to mention it in The Budget, and then word will be out for good.”

  “They were coming for a visit before these new plans. It’s already been expected for a year—before we had any idea about the wedding,” Mem insisted.

  “Ja, and who are you to talk, Anna?” Deborah Shelter jutted out her chin. “You’re the one who suggested working on a quilt for Marianna.”

  Anna waved a hand as if batting down her words. “But that’s when I believed she was marrying that Amish young man. Wasn’t that less than a year ago? Seems like things changed so quickly, and we all know what the Good Book says—‘Feet make haste to run to evil.’”

  Hairs rose on the back of Marianna’s neck as they spoke about her as if she wasn’t there.

  “I know Marianna. I trust her,” Deborah Shelter commented. “She’s been a good friend to my Sarah. Surely there is a reason she broke things off.”

  Anna stood in the kitchen and folded her arms over her ample chest. “Ja, even if that were true, to marry an Englischer—one who plays music and performs on television, of all things.”

  Just as Marianna was about to rise and leave the room, a soft voice chimed in. “I know of a place for your family, Ruth. Mara Milner is planning to rent out the dawdi house for extra income, aren’t you, Mara?”

  Marianna recognized the voice of sweet Lovina Graber. She was a bit older than Marianna and walked with a noticeable limp. Yet her heart was as kind and honest as anyone in West Kootenai. Marianna smiled at how the woman so casually attempted to change the conversation back to the visitors and away from Marianna’s choice of husband.

  Mara’s forehead wrinkled as she looked at Lovina. “Ja, well, that is the hope. With my husband’s death and Reuben being the only boy…” Mara pursed her lips. “Well, he’s a busy young man these days. It’s on Reuben’s list of things to finish. He’s been trying to do a lot of getting things fixed up. The problem is two more things break before one is fixed. Yet…” She paused as if deciding what to say. “Maybe if we know a date in September, I can help him some and even ask my daughter Penny to help too.”

  “The date is the last weekend in September. And if you’ll excuse me.” Marianna stood. She couldn’t continue to sit there as they spoke about her instead of speaking to her. It was similar to how Eve Peachy had refused to talk to her a couple days prior.

  They were working on a quilt for her, but would they genuinely accept her marriage to Ben? She pressed her fingers to her forehead, feeling an ache come on and imagining what would happen when her family from Indiana came. Aunt Ida was never one to keep her opinion to herself. More than that, Aunt Ida was a scribe for The Budget. As Anna Martin suggested, Marianna’s wedding would make the paper, and Aunt Ida wouldn’t hold anything back.