Beside Still Waters by Tricia Goyer Page A

the kids. Still, I'm determined to finish it by the time I return to Indiana in six months.
    Have to go. I hear Ellie and Josiah rustling about. I imagine they'll need some breakfast and then need help packing. Much to do today.
    With care,
    Marianna

CHAPTER TEN

    She was a stranger in her own bedroom.
    The bed was made with an old sheet set. The closet was empty, her clothes and bedding now in one of two boxes. Her books had been boxed up and were stacked on top of the cedar chest her grandmother had given her the year she turned fifteen. Inside the chest her grandmother had included a set of kitchen towels and a cookbook of recipes. Marianna had added to that over the years—sheets, towels, dishes—things she'd need for her own house some day. All of it would remain except the cookbook. She'd packed that with her clothes. Maybe her mother was right. Maybe she did need to spend more time in the kitchen, honing her skills in preparation for caring for a home. Or rather, a husband.
    She placed her hands on her hips and turned, scanning the room, checking to see if there was anything she'd missed. Not that she had more room for anything else. They were allowed two boxes each, and one of hers was taken up with her half-finished quilt. She assumed she'd have plenty of time to work on it seeing as she wouldn't know anyone. That would mean no social gatherings to attend. She pictured many lonely nights sitting and sewing under the light of Dat's lantern.
    The sound of sniffling carried from her open door and Marianna turned to find five-year-old Josiah with red, puffy eyes and a dripping nose. He wore a hand-me-down nightshirt that hid his arms in his sleeves. His dark hair stuck up in the back and his bare toes peeked out from under the hem of the long shirt.
    "What's the matter with you? Are the bed bugs biting?" Though she joked with him, she opened her arms and allowed him to scamper into her embrace.
    "Mem says we can't bring Fred." He pushed up his sleeve and wiped his runny nose with the back of his hand.
    Marianna led him to the water basin on her side table.
    "Well, no, that would be too confusing. He's an Indiana rooster. I've heard there are big mountains in Montana. The sunlight comes over them, but the sun doesn't peek over till hours later. Do you know how confusing that would be?"
    Josiah allowed her to wash and dry his hands, and then she led him back to the doorway. "Now, scamper back to bed because Fred still has a few mornings left to wake you, and I can imagine he's going to do a good job tomorrow. Bright and early."
    Josiah nodded, but just as he turned what sounded like hail hitting her window filled the air. Marianna's heart leapt, and she turned in time to see a bit of gravel fly through the open window, hit the floor, and skitter under her bed.
    Josiah rushed back into her room, eyes wide. "What's that?"
    Marianna knew what it was, but who was beckoning from below? Maybe Aaron coming to talk. To apologize for not giving her a ride. Or maybe Rebecca—not in her right mind. Or . . .
    She looked to Josiah again. "Oh, it's just some bugs wanting in. They must see the light. Now hurry to bed." With his eyes still filled with sadness, he did as he was told, and Marianna shut the door and then scurried to the window. It was dark out. A narrow wedge of moon hung in the sky, and she could make out a man's form. He wasn't wearing the typical Amish hat and clothes, which gave him away.
    Levi stood in the yard near the cottonwood tree. Close enough for her to make him out, but far enough that he couldn't be seen from the house unless someone knew where to look. She waved to him and then tightened the belt on her bathrobe. She turned off her bedroom light and made her way downstairs with slow, soft steps. With bare feet, she exited the door and crossed the cold porch and then hurried over the moist grass toward the tree.
    "What are you doing? You scared me. Josiah was in the room, and he heard the noise of the gravel