Free Beside Still Waters by Tricia Goyer Page A

but she didn't say a word. Her parents used to talk about their dates—including the sleepovers or "bed courtship" as it was called—and to Marianna it seemed natural, pure. Maybe it had been innocent back when her parents were young, but if Rebecca's wild stories were true, that was no longer the case.
    Rebecca moved from the window and sunk down in her bed, pulling a colorful quilt over her thin frame. "So I hear your parents are moving?" The words were so blunt it surprised Marianna. She felt her throat tightening and tried to swallow down the emotion.
    "They're talking like that, but I didn't know it was common knowledge." She moved to the bed and smoothed the wrinkled quilt, remembering many a night when they'd slept side by side under it, singing silly songs and making up stories about talking deer that lived in the woods beyond their farms.
    "Are you going with them?" Rebecca sat on the side of the bed, brushing her mass of dark curls back from her face.
    "I'd have to. What did you think, I'm going to live here alone?" Even as Marianna said the words the room around her darkened in shades of gray. She'd had yet to spend a night alone. She couldn't imagine her father not turning out the lanterns, wishing everyone a good night. Couldn't imagine her mother not waking her with her humming as she started the laundry as soon as the morning light filtered through the window.
    "Why not? Your house is going to be empty, right? You're almost twenty, a grown woman, and there's a pretty good looking guy outside who I'm sure would be interested in a few dates, if not more."
    Marianna's stomach tightened as if Rebecca's words wound up a crank. Part of her knew Rebecca was right. She had to admit she wondered if things would move quickly with Aaron. Some of her friends had started dating at eighteen and were married within a year, others even sooner. She also liked the idea of staying in the house. It was familiar. It was all she knew. It was home.
    "I suppose I could talk to Dat and see what he says. Maybe I can care for the animals and gardens." Marianna moved closer to the window and got the briefest glance of Aaron before he hurried to the house with the other unmarried men—which meant church would be starting soon, and she wasn't in her seat. Heat rose to her cheeks at the thought of hurrying inside late, in full view of everyone.
    "I have to go, but if I don't see you this afternoon, I'll try to stop by tomorrow."
    Rebecca nodded, and she leaned her head against the white wall, empty of all decorations. She waved, but it was half-hearted. She wasn't the same as she used to be. It was as if Marianna's friend had died and someone different, distant, had taken her place. There'd been no funeral, no burial, just a numbing that happened over time.

CHAPTER EIGHT

    Church service was the same as always. The singing of slow weis songs, without the accompaniment of instruments. Preaching and Bible reading in German, and prayer time—lots of time down on one's knees, with heads bowed. Time in which one could think.
    And Marianna had plenty to think about.
    They rose again for another song, and even though Marianna had sung it a hundred times or more, she couldn't understand the words. Each word was sung slowly, drawn out. Every syllable received equal attention, until one couldn't tell where one word ended and another began. She squirmed in her seat, her rear growing tired of sitting on the hard wooden bench. Her mind growing weary of trying to pay attention to the service when there were so many other things wrestling for her attention.
    After the song they sat again and the bishop stood, quiet for a moment, scanning the crowd.
    "I would like everyone to remain seated."
    He shuffled his feet, shifting his weight from side to side until his gaze fell upon a young woman one row in front of Marianna. People around the room squirmed in their seats, uneasy. Everyone, like her, was following the bishop's gaze, wondering what this was