Between Two Promises (2 page)

Silent prayer. Daniel insisted on it before each meal. Although raised Baptist, Aiden and his family had never been big on family prayers, except at holiday meals. Agnostic most of his adult life, lately Aiden had become more open to the possibility God existed. He often wondered how his life in the Montana backcountry with Daniel could have come about without God’s helping hand. He still had a hard time believing how they had run into each other in the middle of Glacier National Park in June, six months after Aiden had fled Illinois. They could no longer deny their love for each other. Daniel had even said it was “God’s will” that they should come together.

“I’m good and hungry,” Daniel said once he lifted his head and opened his eyes. He reached for the parmesan cheese and sprinkled a healthy amount on top of his spaghetti.

“I put a little red wine in the sauce this time,” Aiden said. “Hope you like it.”

“Looks for sure tasty. I smelled it near to the bottom of the lane.”

“Did we get anything interesting in the mail?”

“Only the water bill,” Daniel said, twirling the noodles with his fork the way Aiden had taught him. “And got more orders from Uncle Eldridge.”

“You’re really starting to get your hands full with work.”

“Ya, I’m thinking of letting Mark do some of it back home. He probably needs the money. He’s gotten pretty good with his hands since helping build those houses that got destroyed by the storms down in Texas.”

“Oh, before I forget, the fridge doesn’t seem to be keeping things cool again,” Aiden said, setting down the salad bowl after serving himself. “You think you can tinker with it after supper?”

“For sure.”

“Kitchen window’s stuck too,” Aiden said. “Can’t get it to go down.”

“Heat’s likely expanding the wood,” Daniel said. “I’ll put some wax on the stiles; that should work.”

Aiden valued having such a handyman around. He had a knack for understanding the anatomy of machines. Despite their eschewing modern conveniences, the Amish in general struck Aiden to be mechanical savants. During his parents’ visit, Daniel had even made Aiden a homemade soda-making machine. Aiden assumed the time spent making it was Daniel’s way to avoid his parents, but regardless, the contraption enthralled everyone. Daniel had fabricated the gadget from old plumbing pipes and plastic jugs. He’d bought CO
2
cartridges from a home store in the Valley and even retrofitted bottles for the nozzle attachment. Aiden often added his favorite lemon-lime flavoring. The carbonated beverages tasted more refreshing than any of the store-bought brands.

“I guess we can expect a lot of fixing up around here,” Daniel said. “That’s what you get for wanting to live in a log cabin in the woods.”

“I don’t mind,” Aiden said.

Daniel twirled his spaghetti. “Anything else needing a look at?”

“Just one other thing.”

“Ya, what’s that?”

“How about letting me look at that piece of mail you’re hiding in your pants pocket.”

A noodle Daniel had been slurping left a sauce trail on his dark beard. Swallowing hard, he gaped at Aiden. “What piece of mail?”

Aiden held back a chuckle. “You think you can fool me? I’m a journalist, remember? Eyes like a hawk. I saw you from the kitchen window, stuffing an envelope in your pants pocket before coming up the driveway.”

Daniel shook his head. “It’s nothing to concern you. Now go ahead and eat.”

“Is it something so bad you don’t want me to see? What is it, an eviction notice?”

“No.” Daniel returned to his food. “Nothing like that.”

“Daniel….”

Grunting, Daniel laid aside his fork, wiped his mouth with his paper napkin, and took the mail from his pocket.

“Are you sure?” Aiden raised his eyebrows.

“You won’t stop pestering me until I show you,” Daniel said. “Might as well let you read it and get it over with. Won’t make much difference anyway.”

With unsteady hands, Aiden took the piece of mail from Daniel. He did not recognize the sloppy script on the envelope, but clearly it contained a letter of some kind, sent by someone who had little worries for formalities. He opened the letter and held it up enough to conceal the lower half of his face. He raised his eyebrows when he recognized the Pennsylvania German. Must be from someone back in Daniel’s hometown of Henry. He scanned down to the signoff. Scrunching his forehead, he pondered why Daniel would want to conceal a letter from his brother Mark.

Aiden understood sufficient textbook German to decipher most of the words and use common sense to fill in the gaps where he needed to.

Hello Brother,

How are you in Montana? I picture you there living like Davy Crocket. The mountains are beautiful, yes? I wish I could be there too sometimes, especially with the craziness here. What craziness, you probably ask? Well, in addition to Mom about to bear a child any minute, I am to be married in December. Heidi and I decided it is about time. We have known each other a good year, and I am sure she is the one. We will both be baptized together in a few weeks. I know I am young, but I will be twenty by the time the wedding comes around. Mom is excited. She is already planning much of it. Remember how she fussed over your weddings with Esther and Tara?

Heidi’s parents probably are learning of our marriage the same time as you. They will be coming up from Texas, along with dozens of other relatives, I am sure. I want you to be here too. I would like for you to sit next to me and be my best man. It will not be the same without you. Think about coming. Our wedding comes at a good time, near Christmas. There will be hardly any field work needing done, so we will be free. You can even stay on for the holiday with the family. Everyone will be happy you did.

One other thing, if you know the whereabouts of Aiden Cermak, please ask him to come too. I would be pleased to see him here. It would mean much to me and Heidi. I told her how he saved our family last year and how we would all be dead, if not for him. A person cannot forget something like that. She is eager to meet him. His cell number is no longer tacked to the phone shack. If you know where he is, please invite him for me and Heidi. Dad has given us his blessing.

Take care in Montana.

Your Brother, Mark

While Mark’s rough script registered in Aiden’s mind, he carefully refolded the letter in the envelope and placed it on the table beside his plate. “So that’s why you didn’t want me to read Mark’s letter?” he said, looking Daniel in his coffee-brown eyes. “You didn’t want me to know about him getting married?”

Daniel remained silent.

“Why not?”

“There’s no point,” Daniel said. “We won’t be going.”

“Why, because you worry your family will figure out we’re living together? You’d miss your own brother’s wedding because of that?”

“It’s more than that. Too far. Too much trouble. I can send him a gift and a note from here. He’ll understand.”

“What if I said I didn’t want to go? Would you change your mind and go then?”

Quiet sheathed the supper table. Only the sound of Daniel’s dinnerware striking his plate filled the silence.

“None of that matters,” he said, eyes fixed on his supper. “Neither one of us are going. And that’s that. You read the letter like you wanted. Let’s leave it alone and say nothing more about the matter.”

Chapter Two

S
WEAT
dribbled down the sides of their faces. Rain on the lower elevations the night before had left the air humid on the west side of the Swan Range. Their sturdy backpacks gave their heavy boots extra impact on the soggy trail. About four thousand feet up, they came to a clearing overlooking the Flathead Valley.

“Look.” Aiden pointed to the northwest. “You can see part of the street where the cabin is. Looks like a shoelace from here.”

Daniel followed Aiden’s gaze. The hemlocks and cottonwoods swept down like a green patchwork quilt under the tent of blue sky toward the lower hills, where faint streets and houses were visible through small clearings. Farther beyond, Kalispell and most of its sprawl crept along the Flathead River.

Aiden slipped off his backpack and hiked down to a rock overlook. “I’m going to get a better view for some pictures,” he said.

“Be careful,” Daniel called to him.

A rascally schoolboy whenever in the woods, that’s how Aiden acted, Daniel thought, watching him scudder down the slope about twenty yards. Sometimes he was so full of energy, Daniel could barely keep up. He’d leap among the trees like one of those mythical woodland creatures he’d once read about in school. Endowed with more confidence than coordination, Aiden worried Daniel to distraction.

He smiled despite himself. Out in the woods, away from life’s urgencies, they had little interference from others. Daniel had wanted to escape the controversy of Mark’s letter by getting them both out of the cabin. Two days of backpacking would make the perfect getaway. The day after he allowed Aiden to read the letter, he’d suggested they head out to the Swan Range. Aiden had raced to get ready. Daniel knew how much Aiden loved to backpack.

Backpacking brought out the best in them. They taught each other many skills in the backcountry. Aiden had more experience, but Daniel brought with him practical knowledge he’d learned growing up on a labor-intensive farm. The most spectacular hiking in the country lay right outside their back door, and they took advantage of it often.

They’d left their Suburban at the trailhead, about ten miles from the cabin. The trail, one they’d never hiked before, looped down through the Jewel Basin into Black Lake, where they would camp for two nights and afterward head back over the Range to their Chevy. Secluded and nestled among craggy, snow-covered peaks surrounding trout-laden lakes, the area was perfect for a weekend of exploring and fishing.

Daniel wiped the sweat from under his straw hat. “Let’s get moving,” he said. “We got a climb ahead of us yet, about halfway still to go.”

“Hold on, I want to take our picture together.” Aiden scurried up the slope and posed next to Daniel with his digital camera held out in front of their faces. Daniel thought he was silly, but when Aiden stood on his tiptoes and pressed his cheek against his, a chuckle fluttered from between his lips.

“Smile,” Aiden said, and snapped their picture.

With Aiden’s pack back on, they switchbacked to ridgeline. The moist earth relenting under his weight as he hiked up the mountain gave Daniel a sense of power he always savored. God frowned upon such haughtiness. But Daniel enjoyed the sensation nonetheless.

For Daniel, backpacking provided a good means to stoke his male ego, which, most times, he had to keep in a tightly sealed box. His strict pacifist upbringing dictated no overt violence of any kind. Daniel, always conscious of this tenet of his faith (ingrained in him as much as the need for prayer before meals), had never struck another human being in his life. Other than hard work, roughhouse games, and being the decision makers in their households, Amish males had few avenues to let loose their testosterone. Hiking high above the world infused him with a sense of masculinity he valued.

Three hours later, they crested one of the highest peaks in the Swan Range. Scattered snowdrifts dotted the nine-thousand-foot peak like dollops of marshmallow cream. Aiden snapped pictures of him and Daniel while they took turns standing in the snow. Aiden expressed amazement at standing in snow in August, when daytime temperatures on the peak hovered near seventy. His honey-brown eyes nearly popped from his head when Daniel told him some of the snow piles were leftovers from last winter.

Resting their burning back muscles, they stripped off their packs and explored the high-country flora. Aiden, always inquisitive, wondered how things had evolved, or why God had made a certain plant the way He had. He took the long stem of the moonwort fern into his hands, gazing at its sublimity. He insisted Daniel sniff the calypso orchids spreading along the trail. They caressed the velvety softness of the club moss, examined the oyster mushrooms growing on the south-facing trunks of a cluster of birch trees. “Nature’s shelves,” Aiden quipped.

In the woods, the world always seemed new to them, as if they were the first human beings, like Adam and Eve, to experience it. Blood pumped into their brains, eyes, and noses. Everything was fresh and new, created for their sole discovery.

Aiden slipped on some scree but laughed it off. Daniel’s heart somersaulted. “Be careful,” he said. “You have to watch your footing.”

“I’m a klutz,” Aiden said. “But don’t worry so much. I can handle it.”

“You’d save me a lot of fret if you’d watch where you’re going. Now let’s get our packs back on and start moving.”

They strapped on their packs and continued hiking upslope. A short distance along, Aiden stopped in his tracks.

“Wow! Take a look at that.”

He squatted to examine bear tracks that crossed the muddy trail upslope into a patch of forest. He compared one paw print to his hand. “Sure is big. Look, makes my hand look like a baby’s. I’m pretty sure it’s a grizzly.”