Beyond Hope's Valley: A Big Sky Novel (33 page)

Her cup. Her precious china cup. The one she'd cherished as a girl. But . . .

Ruth frowned as she turned the cup over in her hands. How could this be? It wasn't at all as she remembered. She fingered the flowers, the edges of the cup, and that's when it happened.

Like a blast of light in a dark and dreary room, she understood.

She saw the cup as it was. Even more, saw herself as she was. And with that understanding, came a rush of laughter.

She'd been so foolish. So blind.

"Lord, I see." She closed her hands around her treasured cup. "I finally see. And I thank You." She lifted her face to heaven.

"Thank You with all my heart."

Ruth heard whistling outside. She returned the cup to her chest and hurried to the window. Abe approached from the barn, his eyes fixed on the fields he'd tended for so long. He was a simple man. A good man. Abe was the right man—not because he was Amish, but because he had a good heart and was dedicated to her and to their family.

And because she loved him. She knew because it was flooding her, right now. And thankfulness too. She'd made the right decision then, and they were making a right one together now.

Abe must have sensed her eyes on him because he glanced up.

She waved to him as he headed out to the fields, and he waved back, a broad smile on his face.
He
was her life, not this community. Not this home. He and their family.

She could go anywhere if she was with him.

She heard the sound of footsteps upstairs and from their heaviness knew it was Ben getting ready for the day. David and Charlie still slept, and Joy did too.

Last night, Marianna had headed back to Levi's place, saying she'd return this morn with Levi, Naomi, and baby Samuel.

What would Levi think of his sister's Englisch friend? Ruth had a feeling he'd like Ben—maybe even more than he cared for Aaron. Ben was likeable in that way.

At that thought, Ruth placed a hand over her heart. What if God had chosen Abe for her not because he was Amish, but because of the man he was? Could it be . . . could God choose someone for her daughter not because he was Amish, or Englisch, but because he was the right man for her—for her future and her faith?

Ruth swallowed hard, shaking her head. She couldn't let her mind think of that. Marianna had her mind set on who she was set to marry. Ruth just had to trust that her daughter was being diligent on seeking God's heart on the matter.

The sound of voices carried down the road. Ruth wiped her hands on a dishtowel and hurried outside. Sure enough Levi, Naomi, and Marianna strolled toward her. In her son's arms was the newest addition to their family. Ruth couldn't help it. She hoisted her skirt and hurried toward them.

Reaching them, she offered Naomi a quick hug and then stretched out her arms to the baby.

Levi smiled. "Mem, meet your grandson." He handed her the small bundle.

Ruth sucked in a breath as she noticed the baby's fair skin, light fuzzy blond hair, and light blue eyes. She studied him, but couldn't see much of Levi in his features. Of course, with babies it was so hard to tell.

She smiled as she kissed her grandson's cheek. "Joanna was light like this. That's who Samuel must take after."

Levi nodded, and Ruth noticed he and Naomi exchange glances.

"Oh and yer family too." Ruth chuckled. "He's only part Sommer after all."

She held him up to her, breathing in his baby scent. It made her realize Joy had grown so much.

"He's beautiful." Ruth looked into her son's eyes. "A gift from God no matter the circumstances."

The visit with her son and soon-to-be daughter-in-law was pleasant, but far too short. After breakfast the young couple headed back to Naomi's parents' house to work on plans for the wedding. She and Abe had errands of their own, and they headed to town to settle up accounts at the grocery and bank. They'd left Ben and Marianna to pack up the rest of the house with the help of the older boys. Marianna also insisted in keeping Joy, stating it would be too soon her baby sister would be traveling back to Montana.

"Why don't I head to the bank, while you talk to Dee at the grocery store?" Abe suggested.

For as long as Ruth remembered she'd had an account at the store that had gotten them through lean winters. Dee was always good at providing them with credit until they could pay in the spring. Yet as she entered the store it wasn't Dee she saw first. But there . . . standing near the shopping carts . . .

Mark.

She paused in her steps, touching her kapp to make sure it was still in place. She looked over her shoulder before remembering Abe wasn't there to back her up.

"Hello, Ruth." He smiled. "I heard you were in town."

She nodded and crossed her arms over her chest. A buzzing filled her insides as if she'd just swallowed a beehive. "
Ja
, jest back for our son's wedding . . ." Ruth's quivering moved to her knees.

"You look the same, Ruth, as young and beautiful as your daughter Marianna."

She placed a hand on a shopping cart to steady herself. "I do not know how to answer that."

"You can say thank you."

Mark's eyes bore into her, and she did not like it one bit. He studied her as if he had a right to this—a right to her time, attention, heart. "It's foolishness, that's what it is. You have no right."

"So because you're a married woman I cannot tell you how beautiful you look? How I feel?"

An Englisch woman entered the store and hurried by, not giving them a fleeting glance.

Ruth turned her head, unable to look into the intensity of his gaze. His desire was clear. Mark had always been intense and clear about his feelings.

Her emotions swelled, but then the Scripture verses she'd read just this morning replayed in her mind. God loved her. His love was true. Abe loved her . . .

And then another verse came to her, one she'd read a while back. Seeing Mark her heart told her what it wanted, but what had that verse said? "
The heart is deceitfully wicked.
" The thumped mass inside her chest was that, all right. It wanted to smile at Mark, to offer him a hug of greeting.

Dear Lord, help.

As soon she let loose the prayer, a response filled her mind. She motioned to a quiet corner just inside the store, and Mark followed her there, seemingly pleased she hadn't turned him away.

Ruth pressed her fingers to her temples and looked up into his face. "I need to tell you something. It's something you need to hear, Mark." His name was soft on her lips.

She blew out a slow breath and began. "One year my grandparents took me to the flea market in Shipshewana all by myself. I was so excited. Before we arrived they told me I could pick one special item jest for me. They believed I would choose a special treat, but my eyes focused on a beautiful china cup. I had to have it. They considered it an usual request, but they agreed. Looking back now, perhaps a part of me was tired of being plain. Even though I'm Amish I've always been drawn to beautiful things." She looked back at him. "And forbidden things."

Mark smiled at her words and took a step closer.

She held up her hand. "I'm not finished. I drank from my cup a few times, and once my sisters knocked it off the table. It dropped to the floor and a corner of it chipped. After that I was so fearful of it shattering, that I put it away. In my hope chest. And when I married Abe it was one of the things I moved into our new home.

"A few times over the years I considered pulling out my china cup, but I was afraid the kinder would break it."

Mark lifted one eyebrow, and Ruth could tell he wondered where this story was going. She set her chin, determined to finish her story in her own good time. "I came across that china cup today, when I was packing up my things. Nearly dropped it when I was sorting through my hope chest." She wrinkled her nose. "Funny thing, though, wouldn't have mattered none. You see, it weren't china at all but hard plastic. And the intricate flowers I admired so was a sticker decal."

She lifted her chin, and met his gaze without flinching. She kept her tone firm, but kind. Even hard words could be spoke with kindness. "That's what my feelings for you were, Mark. I thought for so long they were something to cherish, but this whole time they've been fake. Worthless."

Mark shifted side to side. She saw his neck turning red. This wasn't what he expected, wanted.

"Yer story doesn't make sense, Ruth, I saw something different in your eyes. When you looked at me, I saw you still cared."

"Of course. I will always care. You are a part of my youth, my past, but not my present. There are emotions there, ain't no denying that. They're emotions I tried to tuck away and protect like that china cup, but when I heard you were back, and I studied those feelings, I realized they're nothing but a fraud. My feelings of care fer you was mixed with my longing to leave behind my Amish ways. The motives were wrong for sure. I wanted to be loved, but what you offered was not love. It was unhealthy desire."

Even as she spoke, she felt the certainty within. This was truth. "I've found true love in my husband, Abe."

He flashed a scowl. "So that's it?"

"Well,
ja
."

He reached out a hand, touching her arm. She took a step back.

"Will you at least pray for me, Ruth? Pray I'll find a love like you have?"

"I wish I could, but that'll jest tie my heart to yours. Instead, when thoughts of you come up, I'll thank God. For the gift He has given me in my husband."

Mark ran a hand through his hair. "I'm uh, glad for you. For the life you have. I'm sorry to have bothered you." With that he turned and strode away.

Seeing him go, Ruth's stomach tingled as if she'd leapt off the top of the barn. She watched the back of Mark's head as he stalked off. Gray dulled his shiny black curls.

Footsteps approached from behind and she turned. Abe stood there.

He paused before her, looking down. "When I started for the bank something gave me pause. I felt drawn to turn around and head this way."

"I wasn't surprised to see Mark. He's one of the reasons I didn't want to come back here for long." Her voice trembled.

Abe stepped closer. Ruth tried to swallow but her throat was tight—as if a cob of corn was stuck in her windpipe.

"I know."

She stared at her husband. "You do?"

"I heard you, Ruth. All you said to him. I followed you inside—standing just over there—and heard every word." He stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. From the look in his eyes he wanted to do more—to pull her into his embrace—but he resisted. She knew it was because they were in public.

"Remember that love letter you wrote to me on our first anniversary? The one that told me all the things you loved about me. The one that I still keep with my socks?"

She nodded. She'd done that after overhearing someone in church say how she'd written one for her husband. Heat rose to her cheeks.

"This"—he pointed to the doorway where Mark had just had exited—"this means even more than that. Telling him you loved me and had no interest in hurting our marriage meant more to me than any love letter."

She nodded. The deep love in Abe's gaze brought tears to her eyes. "It's true," she whispered.

"I know. I know something else too. We're not going to Montana to run away, Ruth. We're going to find what we've just had a glimpse of. A new relationship with God. A fresh start at our love. I can't wait for the next twenty-five years."

Abe covered Ruth's hand with a rough palm. It was the hand of a hardworking man—a man who gave everything for their family.

A man she loved with all her heart.