Free Along Wooded Paths by Tricia Goyer

yet?”
    Aaron glanced up at her. “You remembered?”
    “Are you kidding? Of course. I’ve always loved your sketches.”
    “You draw, Aaron?” Mem stepped from the kitchen, looking at him. “Didn’t know that. You’ll have to show us some of yer artwork. Or draw us something special.”
    “Best artist in Indiana.” Marianna patted his hand. “Now Montana, too, I bet.”
    Aaron’s eyes fixed on hers and his strong hand closed over hers. Marianna tilted her head, looking at him. Her heartbeat quickened and her pulse drummed in her neck. Even though Dat sat not ten feet away, reading his paper, Aaron didn’t seem shy about this display of affection.
    “Was work okay?” His voice held a note of concern.
    “Yes, of course. Why do you ask?”
    “Charlie told me about the Englischman on the train. How he tried to hurt you. It’s a good thing yer dat was there.”
    “It wasn’t like that. Not really. And things are different here.” Even as she said the words Marianna remembered the man at the auction. He’d tried to hurt her too. That seemed like years ago, not months. The snow outside made it hard to remember summer had been here not too long ago, gracing the land with warmth, bathing it with sunshine.
    “I don’t like you working, Marianna. Doesn’t seem right.”
    “Just helping the family.” She tried to keep her tone light. “And if I’m going back to Indiana, I’ll need funds for the fare.” She didn’t want to think about how she’d already wasted money on a ticket she didn’t use.
    “So you are coming back, then?” Aaron’s light blue eyes focused on hers. Sweat beaded on his brow, and she wasn’t sure if it was from the warmth of the fire or the pain. She resisted the urge to wipe it away.
    “Well, I’ve always planned on going back in the spring.”
    “Is that still the plan?” There was urgency in his voice.
    Marianna bit her lip, not sure what to say. She looked to her father, but he pretended to still be reading. The bouncing of his foot on the floor proved he wasn’t focusing on the typed words. She doubted any news in The Budget could make him that nervous.
    “I’m thinking about that. I imagine so, ja .” She thought about the tension she felt on the train. The tightness in her chest over going back. “But spring is still a long time away.”
    “I’d like it if you did.” Aaron leaned his head back against the couch cushions. For someone in a lot of pain he suddenly looked relaxed. And the way his eyes studied hers soothed her. It was as if an intimate cord draped between them, uniting them. Marianna crossed her arms in front of herself, for some reason feeling bare before him. She’d never known such a gaze. He did not look at her, but into her.
    “You have to see the cabin.”
    She nodded and swallowed hard. It would be useless to speak. The words wouldn’t make any sense if she tried.
    She looked down at his hand, still wrapped around hers. His hands were strong from hard work, but gentle too. His long fingers enveloped hers and his thumb stroked the top of her hand. She closed her eyes for the briefest moment, reveling in Aaron’s touch. When she opened them, her eyes met Aaron’s and a thousand needle pricks stirred within her—so many she thought she’d jump from her skin.
    With her hand in his, those feelings for Aaron she thought long buried came back with a warmth the fire behind her couldn’t touch.

    “I wish you would have told me Aaron was coming, that’s all I’m saying.” Abe looked to his wife, who lay in bed next to him, curled to her side.
    “I told you why I didn’t,” she whispered. “I thought it to be a nice surprise.”
    Abe sat with his back against the wall. Their lantern was set to low light and he had the Bible open on his lap.
    “Not sure I needed to be surprised.” The angry words dropped from his lips. “You made me look like a fool.”
    Ruth didn’t comment, and Abe guessed it was best she didn’t. If she said