Needing someone to talk to, Marianna found her way to the back shed, where a phone had been installed before they’d moved into the place. The shed exuded a musty, dusty smell. When her family had first moved in, Marianna had been horrified about the phone. But now? She liked the idea that she could reach out to Ben even when he was gone.

  She found the paper with Ben’s number on it tacked to the wall. She picked up the phone and dialed the number. Then with a smile, she held her breath as the phone rang.

  He answered on the second ring. “Marianna, is everything all right?” His words came out in a rush. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, Ben, I was just missing you.”

  He blew out a breath and then took in another one. “Oh, good. I’m glad to hear that. I was worried when I saw the number come up.”

  “Are you saying I only call when there’s a problem?” She tried to keep her voice light, yet tears sprang to her eyes as she thought about the women around the sewing circle and Annie wanting to help with wedding plans. Worries about the satin dress, visiting family, and being shunned by Eve Peachy crowded her thoughts. She blinked back her tears, refusing to allow them to escape. Refusing to worry Ben.

  He chuckled. “Well, yes. That’s pretty much the only time you call.”

  “I’m fine.” Her voice quivered a little. “I’m just missing you.”

  “I’ll be home in a couple of days.” His voice sounded hurried, and Marianna heard other male voices talking in the background.

  “Did I interrupt something?”

  “Actually, yes. Roy flew down, and we’re here with a concert promoter. We’re trying to set some dates for the fall…and into next year.”

  “Dates?”

  “For concerts. After September, of course.”

  “You’re going back on the ro-road?” Her words caught, and she attempted to swallow down the emotion. She pressed a hand to her throat. He’s leaving again just as our life is getting started? And I’ll be alone in the cabin—Ben’s cabin without him. This doesn’t sound like much of a marriage.

  “I told them that I didn’t want to be gone long. I’ll be a newlywed. Unless you came with me. Wouldn’t that be nice?” His voice sounded hopeful. “But I told them I’ll ask my wife. And yeah, I love the sound of that—my wife.”

  Marianna could hear the smile in his voice, and she pictured the tiny dimple on his chin and the bright blue of his eyes. She didn’t know what to say. If she had thought of it, it would have been evident that Ben would have to go back on the road sometime. That was how he made an income, especially after his songs had become so popular. But she certainly hadn’t entertained the idea of going on the road with him.

  No, I’m not going to do that. That’s not in the plan—has never been in the plan. She rubbed her brow as her headache grew in intensity. Marianna sucked in a long breath, telling herself to hold it together. To not cry on the phone. “Ben, I—”

  “But listen, can I call you back?” Ben interrupted. “Roy is catching a flight back tonight, and we need to nail this down.”

  “Ja. I mean, yes, of course.”

  “Wonderful. See you soon, Marianna…and I love you.”

  “I love you too—” she said, but the phone call hung up before the words were out. She held the receiver in her hand until it buzzed, then hung it up.

  A chill ran down her spine. Loneliness descended on her. She loved Ben, she really did, but with each passing day, more questions filled her mind. Was she really ready for this? Prepared to be Mrs. Ben Stone?

  Chapter Eight

  Tuesday, June 27, West Kootenai, Montana

  Marianna entered Dat’s barn to check whether it would be big enough to hold a wedding reception in the large, open area. But as soon as she stepped inside, she knew that it wasn’t. There wasn’t enough room for even ten tables, let alone an open area for guests to mingle or space for food service. The barn seemed empty without her father. He was working up the road with Uncle Ike at Ben’s house. Soon her house. The scents of hay and animals, the moist warmth inside—even warmer than the morning air—brought on a sense of familiarity and peace. How many mornings had she spent in the barn with her father? Too many to count.

  She thought back to the gray silo and tall silver windmill peeking over their red barn’s sloping roof back in Indiana. She’d always planned on getting married in that barn. Many of their neighbors cleaned out their barns and set up tables and chairs inside for the wedding and reception after.

  In their old community, there had been a wedding wagon that could be moved from place to place and set up as an extra kitchen with six propane gas stoves. There’d also been sinks with hot and cold running water, cookware, dishes, and everything one would need. Family and friends would come together to cook for three hundred guests. Of course, in Montana, Marianna couldn’t imagine three hundred guests, even with their Englisch friends included. Unless Ben had other Englisch friends he wished to invite. Marianna hadn’t thought of that.

  Seeing a five-gallon bucket turned over near one of the stalls, Marianna sat on it, just as she had when she was little. She thought of Ben’s place, so different than this. So Englisch. Marrying Ben meant raising her children differently than she’d been raised.

  Trust Me. God’s still, small voice stirred within Marianna, surprising her. She sat up straighter, scuffing the toe of her tennis shoe on the concrete. She was used to talking to God and hearing His soft voice gently stirring within when she sat at the pond. Marianna also felt His precious presence when she sat with her open Bible in her bedroom. But was God here too? Could He speak to her heart in other places?

  Trust Me, He had said. Did that mean for her to trust God with Ben? With their lives together? To trust God in this new journey of marriage that would cause each of them to lay down so much of their lives to come together in unity?

  Marianna plucked up a piece of straw and twirled it between her fingers. She smiled, remembering Ben’s strong hug as they had parted. Marianna had seen a glimmer of tears in his eyes. She remembered his kiss. It would take trust for the days to come. That was certain.

  The footsteps coming across the gravel driveway caused Marianna to sit up straighter. Mem traipsed toward her with Joy on her hip. Four-year-old Ellie trailed behind, carrying a small basket in her hand, pausing every now and then to pick up an interesting pine cone or rock.

  Mem must have seen Marianna enter the barn, because she strode in with purpose. It was clear she had something on her mind. Yesterday her focus had been on the memory quilt. What could it be today? Something about the wedding, Marianna was certain.

  “I know you told me you wanted time to think things through—of where you want the wedding yet—but I was thinking of asking Reuben Milner to build us a large picnic table in the yard. With so many family visiting, I imagine we will need more places to sit.”

  “Ja, well, that’s a gut idea.”

  “Do you think I should have him make two tables?”

  “For more seating?” Marianna cocked an eyebrow. “If we need more seating, we can ask to use the church wagon.” Marianna thought of the large trailer filled with benches that went from place to place, bringing seating for every church service or gathering. “Then we’ll have plenty of places to sit…”

  Marianna’s voice trailed off as she saw the pinched expression on Mem’s face. It was then she remembered that this would not be an Amish wedding. And indeed, the elders would not make an exception for one who chose to leave the Amish. “Let me guess. We can’t use the church benches?”

  “Ne. They’re only for Amish weddings.”

  Marianna’s mouth went as dry as the hay scattered across the barn floor. Her breaths drew in slowly. This is really happening.

  Over the last few months, as she’d taken steps away from the Amish lifestyle, she’d considered it like Ellie with her basket of pine cones and rocks. She almost pictured herself dropping old traditions and habits, leaving a trail behind her like debris upon the path. Yet if that were so, she’d still feel her complete self.

  Instead of stripping away, this was more like death. The Amishwoman she once was no longer existed. A numbness came over her at that thought. No wonder she was having difficulty making sense of this new path. She didn’t understand this new version of herself. How could she ever feel right or wrong about any decision when she had no idea what choice this different Marianna should make? And she wasn’t the only one trying to figure it out. Those closest to her struggled too.

  Marianna thought of Mem’s words just yesterday. I’ve already had two daughters lost. I will not lose another. Yet wasn’t this what had already happened? It was as if there were three headstones back in Indiana. Two daughters were lost in a buggy accident, and one to the Englischers’ ways. Ne, that wasn’t right. Another lost to…relinquishment to God and His ways, not those of her ancestors. But did that make the death to herself and her ways any less painful? She guessed not.

  “Of course I cannot use the church wagon. I am no longer Amish. What was I thinking?”

  Marianna’s eyes fixed on Ellie as she lifted a handful of gravel from just outside the barn door and let it slowly slip through her fingers. Was that how Mem felt, like everything she’d lived her whole life for—all their Amish ways⁠—were slowly slipping away?

  It caused an ache inside Marianna too. A pain for how she’d always imagined things being. She’d always planned for an Amish wedding. She’d always expected things to be done a certain way, just as they’d always been done. Yet how could she explain the emptiness—this death—to others, especially since these should be the happiest days of her life as she prepared to marry the man she loved?

  “Ja, if you need a picnic table for the yard, then it might be gut to put in an order with Reuben Milner.” Marianna kicked at a small tuft of hay with the toe of her shoe. “But maybe you should wait to order two tables. Ben and I still have to talk about where we’re going to have the wedding.” The answer didn’t seem sufficient, and she noted the confusion in Mem’s eyes even as she bounced Joy on her hip.

  “Are you saying you might not have it here? But I just assumed…” Mem shifted Joy to her other hip. “Back in Indiana we’d always talked about the barn. This is different, but we can still make it work.” Disbelief, a struggle to cope, up and down emotions. Marianna noted the denial of this death in Mem’s gaze.

  Marianna stood and brushed the straw off her skirt. “But this isn’t Indiana, is it? This house is much smaller than the one back in Shipshewana. There’s room for buggy parking but not enough parking for the vehicles of our Englisch friends.”

  Ellie had sat down inside the barn door and sorted her collection of pine cones, rocks, and sticks into piles. She seemed quiet—too quiet. And Marianna guessed she was listening. Even though they were speaking in Englisch, Marianna knew that Ellie could probably understand most of what they were saying. Unlike the preschoolers in Indiana, who spent almost all of their early years around Amish alone, Ellie had just as many Englisch friends as she had Amish ones. Also, most of their neighbors in this area were Englisch, giving Ellie an advantage in learning the language and the Pennsylvania Dutch she spoke at home.

  Joy began to fuss, and Mem turned her face outward. Joy’s eyes were round and gray, the same color as Marianna’s, but her hair was dark brown, opposite of Ellie’s blonde hair and at least three shades darker than Marianna’s light brown. Seeing Marianna, Joy stretched out her hands and kicked her feet. Marianna stepped forward and took Joy from Mem’s hands, attempting to ignore the pained look on her mother’s face. The feeling of Joy in her arms settled her somehow. Her baby-fresh aroma mixed with the barn scents, smelling like home, like family.

  Yes, Marianna reminded herself. Some things were changing, yet so many others were the same. She still had her parents, brothers and sisters, and even most of her Amish friends. Not many young women who chose to leave the Amish could say the same. And this was only possible because they lived in Montana, she knew. Back in Indiana, she would have been shunned. The ministers and the elders would have demanded it. Just like her brother Levi had been shunned until he’d chosen to be baptized into the church and marry Naomi. Two years ago when he’d first left, Marianna would never have believed their roles would be reversed. Never. Yet here she was.

  Joy giggled as she reached up and placed her fingers on Marianna’s lips. Marianna pretended to nibble on them, which was their favorite game, and Joy laughed again.

  Mem worriedly nibbled her lower lip and crossed her arms over her chest. Her kapp strings fluttered softly in the breeze that blew in through the doorway. “Do you think Ben will invite many Englisch friends? What of his family? Are they coming?”

  “I’m not sure, Mem. We still need to talk about it. But he is Englisch, you know.” Marianna reached up to twist her kapp string around her finger—a habit since childhood—but she remembered it wasn’t there and brushed her hand over Joy’s smooth, fine hair instead.

  Mem nodded. “Ja, of course.”

  The clomping of a horse’s hoofs coming down the gravel roadway caused Marianna to look out the doorway. Then the jingle of the tack and traces on a buggy. Walking to the barn door, she smiled to see Uncle Ike driving the buggy up the road. Instinctively, she shifted Joy and waved a welcome. Then a new thought hit her. Once married, she’d be listening to the sound of Ben’s truck engine and not the jingle of tack and traces. Her shoulders drooped with a sigh, realizing that. Ike slowed the buggy and waved.

  After parking the buggy, Ike hurried over to the barn. Seeing him, Ellie quickly picked up all her treasures and put them back into the basket and set it to the side. Then she rushed to Uncle Ike, and he swung her up to sit on his left shoulder in one smooth motion, just as he’d used to do with Marianna when she was a child.

  “Sack potato!” Ellie shouted with glee, and then Uncle Ike put her down to the ground again with a squeal. It took a few seconds for Ellie to catch her balance, then she hurried over to the basket to again dump out her things.

  “Did you need something, Ike, for Ben’s house?” Mem asked.

  “Well, if I did, I wouldn’t mention it.” Ike winked at Marianna. “Got in trouble enough yesterday for ruining a surprise.” He pulled a handkerchief from his front jeans pocket and wiped his brow. “I actually came by to see if I could borrow your phone. Annie sent a note with our lunch saying someone called about needing an outfitter for a trip they’d like to take into the Bob Marshall at the end of July. They want me to call them back.”

  Mem tipped her head and made eye contact with Ike as she stepped closer to her brother-in-law. “Have you led a trip before? That wilderness isn’t a friendly place. I hear stories all the time.”

  “I’ve been assisting for five years. I could do a fair job. It’s Annie who recommended me to one of her friends. So, can I use your phone?”

  “Ja, of course,” Marianna answered, wondering why Mem was being so quiet. Mem eyed Ike with curiosity, her eyes filled with questions. Did Mem find it interesting how Ike and Annie seemed to depend on each other more and more as the days passed? Did Mem worry that Ike would soon leave the Amish in the name of love?

  Ike hurried to their phone shed, and Marianna turned her conversation back to the wedding. “When Ben gets home, we’ll talk about all these things concerning the wedding. Don’t worry, Mem. I’ll talk to him about the location. Maybe we can find a way to work it out?”

  Mem’s face brightened. “Really? Oh, thank you. There will be so many different things with this wedding. Having some familiar things around will ease my soul.” She placed a hand over her heart. “And maybe if it’s here, your aunts will be more inclined to attend. You know how they can be, especially Aunt Ida,” Mem said with a windy sigh.

  Marianna wanted to remind her mother that she’d only said she’d try to find a way to work it out. It wasn’t a guarantee. But the color that had returned to Mem’s cheeks brought Marianna pause. She would talk to Ben. They would make a decision together, and if Mem wasn’t going to get her wishes in the end, at least she could think for a while that her wishes were a possibility.

  Chapter Nine

  Tuesday, June 27, West Kootenai, Montana

  Ben couldn’t help himself. He’d been gone for weeks and missed Marianna like crazy. He stood on the dirt road outside her family’s house. It was a new moon, which wasn’t visible in the night sky. Instead, the stars sparkled like fistfuls of diamonds tossed on a black velvet fabric.

  Shifting from side to side and kicking up dirt and gravel from the road, Ben contemplated if he should sneak to her window just to see her beautiful face, even for ten minutes. The house looked quiet, and he guessed that the rest of her family had already fallen asleep. But didn’t she say she often stayed up to read or write in her journal? Seeing the joy on her face was worth the risk when she realized he’d come home a day early.

  He slowly walked toward the house by the light from his cell phone, realizing for the first time how loud walking on pine cones could be. Ben strained to see if there was any sign of lantern or candlelight—evidence that she was awake. Hopefully, Trapper wouldn’t hear him and bark, waking everyone up.

  Step by step, he made his way to the side of the house toward her downstairs bedroom window. He felt like a teenager again, parking his truck down the road to sneak into his girlfriend’s house. Yet this wasn’t just a girlfriend. This was his fiancée, soon to be his wife. His smile widened even as he hunched down under the window. He was about to reach his hand to tap on the window, but his cell phone chimed its familiar tune. Ben jumped and stood erect. He’d forgotten to put his phone on silent, and at the moment, the chiming sounded as loud as a shotgun going off in the night.