Along Wooded Paths Read Free Page A

romantic notions refused to be locked away. If she invited Ben inside, Mem no doubt would see through her act of “just being neighborly.” It would bring up too many questions. And concerns.
    So she glanced down the road as if looking for a way out from this conversation.
    “Have you seen my uncle? I’ve heard he’s preparing his buggy for winter. I imagine—”
    “I saw him yesterday, Mari.” Ben’s voice quieted. He studied her face and she could tell he understood. They must say good-bye. His lips turned down, and he brushed something off his pants leg—though nothing was there.
    “Speaking of your Uncle Ike, I need to drop by his place. He wanted to talk to me about some deliveries I need to make tomorrow.”
    “That’s fine. Trapper will make sure I get all the way home. Surely we won’t get lost.” She forced a small laugh but it sounded as dull as the chilled world around her.
    “See you later, then?” He picked up the pace and veered the direction of the road. She continued toward their log house. Her lip trembled as she watched him go, then she lifted her chin and told herself to stay strong.
    “It’s how things have to work, Trapper.” She spoke to the dog trotting by her side, but her eyes were still fixed on Ben’s departing form. “I suppose someday we’ll both be comfortable just being friends.”
    Marianna entered the house. David and Josiah were at school. Charlie—his leg still bandaged from being burned in an accident over a month ago—read a book on the couch. Both Ellie and Joy napped. She could hear her father’s heavy footsteps upstairs as he worked on one project or another. He finished up a building project at Kootenai Log Homes yesterday and would start another tomorrow. Today was his day to take care of things around their house, and Marianna had to admit she enjoyed seeing his smile and hearing him whistle as he worked.
    Life here was so different from life in Indiana.
    She glanced to her mother in the kitchen as she took off her coat. Mem was busy washing dishes and didn’t look Marianna’s way. Something about Mem’s slouched posture and lowered head made the hairs on the back of Marianna’s neck stand on end.
    Nearing, she noticed silent tears streaming down Mem’s face. Her mother pulled a hand out of the dishwater, wiping them away and leaving small, bubbly suds on her cheek.
    Marianna placed a hand on her shoulder. “Mem, what is it?”
    “Maybe you were right, Mari. Maybe we shouldn’t have come here. Who knows, you could be planning a wedding by now.” She spoke in a low whisper. “You were so determined when we left, and Aaron had worked so hard on the cabin . . .”
    Marianna rinsed off the last of the dishes in the basin of water, then placed them in the dish strainer. Her chest felt heavy, as if each of Mem’s words was a brick, piling on top of it. Her mother no doubt had seen her and Ben walking outside. She’d also probably noticed Marianna had written less frequently to Aaron. How could she tell her mother things had changed? That she had changed. It took all her energy to keep her feelings for Ben at bay. She didn’t have the emotional strength to communicate with Aaron or consider what possibility there was for a relationship with him.
    Marianna looked to Mem again. Her face had grown pale. With frantic motions, Mem scrubbed a pan that already looked clean. There had to be something more. Something else bothering her.
    Marianna took her time drying the dishes, waiting.
    “I got a letter from an old school friend.” Mem said it as if trying to make Marianna believe she was switching topics, but the look in Mem’s eye told Marianna different.
    “Really? Good news?”
    “ Ja, ja , yet another grandchild. It makes eight. Eight grandchildren. And to think we went to school together, are the same age.”
    Marianna picked up the dishtowel. Had her sisters lived, they would have made their mother a grandmother many times over by now. Had her