Along Wooded Paths Read Online Free PDF Page B

ago, she’d expected her mother to cry tears of joy. That wasn’t the case.
    Mem expressed concern when Marianna left a quilt for Ben. Then, when she’d walked back in the door with Ben at her side, one would have thought from Mem’s reaction that Marianna stopped at a chapel on the way home and married the Englischman! It was later, in the month following, when Marianna had little contact with Ben, that Mem had seemed less worried. But only slightly.
    Had Mem brought Aaron here for a surprise visit to ensure her heart didn’t stray toward the Englischman?
    Marianna swallowed hard and returned to the kitchen. She pulled the dishtowel off the bread dough. It had doubled in size. Just to make sure it was ready, she poked her index finger into the dough. Mem had showed her the trick. If the hole she made stayed in the dough without filling in, the dough was ready to punch down. But if the hole closed—even a little—the dough wasn’t ready and needed more time to ferment. If the dough collapsed—which had happened to her more than once—it had risen too long and would not rise again.
    This dough was perfect. Her fist punched it down, gently pushing her knuckles into the center of the dough. Then she pulled the edge of the dough toward the center, punching it down again. Satisfied, she turned it over, giving it time to rest.
    Mem had been acting peculiar. She’d been talking a lot, asking Marianna about every aspect of her work. She’d commented how nice it would be for Marianna to have her own home and family some day and not have to brave the cold, watching her footing on winter’s icy paths.
    Mem had also cleaned the house from top to bottom.
    How could she do it? How could Mem invite Aaron here without telling her?
    The bell on the front door jingled. Marianna washed her hands and then hurried out to greet the customer. Edgar had called in sick, and it was the other Amish girl, Sarah’s, day off. Annie, the owner, would come out to help if Marianna needed, but maybe being busy would keep her mind off the fact that Aaron Zook lay in a hospital bed just an hour’s drive away by automobile.
    An Amish man entered, his head lowered as he brushed snow from his hat. When he lifted his face, she recognized Dat, looking more tired, more stooped then she’d seen in a while.
    Dat’s eyes drifted toward her. His face molded into the same look she witnessed the night Levi left. Her father offered her a blank stare that gave evidence of rejection, disbelief.
    Marianna dried her hands on her already damp apron and then stepped toward him, trying to control quivering hands. Keeping her breathing even.
    “Is it true that Aaron’s here? That he got in an accident and he’s in the hospital?”
    “Yes, and no.” Dat’s words were slow and heavy, like the large icicles hanging from the porch outside. “He did get in an accident, but he’s not in the hospital.” Dat removed his hat from his head, brushing it. He repeated the motion of a moment ago even though snow was no longer on the rim. “They released him this morning. He’s back at our house.”
    “But what is he doing here? Why didn’t you tell me he was coming?”
    “I didn’t know. It was Ruth.” The way her father said her mother’s name told Marianna the sting of betrayal pierced him too. “Mrs. Zook sent a letter to your mother. She returned one, sending an invitation for Aaron to come. Mem thought it would be a nice surprise for you since you didn’t go back.”
    She could tell from his tone that there was more to it than Mem wanting to give her a “nice surprise.” She lowered her voice and stepped toward him. “Mem had no right to do this. To assume—”
    Dat placed a hand on Marianna’s shoulder. This type of touch was rare, but it spoke volumes. This is how things are, the look in his eyes stated. We’ll not mention it again .
    Two years ago she would have let the matter drop. Even six months ago she would have done the same. But now?