West Kootenai, Montana
Only sheer willpower had prevented Christine’s legs from declaring mutiny and running straight to the spot on the road where Andy and Raymond stood talking only minutes earlier. Now she rushed because joy awaited her once this conversation was complete. The chapter with Raymond would end. She would miss him. But a new chapter in her life had begun.
The fire changed her, changed Andy, and changed their community. As much as they jabbed at each other, they knew the moment he walked into the Mast house and announced he planned to buy it, he’d staked his claim and she’d accepted it. The events of the past several weeks grew them into people who could say that they loved each other aloud, no holds barred.
He still had to ask her to marry him, but she didn’t doubt that he would. He couldn’t do it until she cleared this final hurdle. Raymond Old Fox had come for her. She needed to complete her business with this good, kind man who’d taught her so much. Andy would never understand, but he would accept her hike into an alien world, and they would go on.
She could no longer let anything come between them. The restless desire for something more had left her like a fever that dissipated.
Raymond had returned to the car. His face weary, he leaned against the dirty bumper and examined something on the ground with great interest.
“Raymond, is Gramma all right?”
“She died.” His hand dropped and he straightened. His face crumpled. His shoulders slumped. “We buried her earlier in the week.”
Gramma was gone. That one afternoon spent riding in a car with her would never be forgotten. Her face—a road map of a long, fruitful life—would remain etched on Christine’s memory. She’d had one day with Gramma, and that experience would leave a hole as if there should have been more. How much bigger that hole must be for Raymond.
His head down, he studied the ground, waiting for her response. He needed a hug. Anyone in her right mind could see that. Christine’s arms ached to provide it. Her parents would say men and women could not be friends. The elders would counsel her that she must not enjoy the company of non-Plain men. Or any men who were not her family or soon-to-be husband.
How could this feeling—so like what she felt for her brothers—be wrong? She swallowed her own tears and breathed through the ache in her throat. “I’m so sorry.” Before her entire Plain community and many others, she squeezed his hand. “She rests in peace now.”
“You don’t believe that.” His lopsided smile softened the cynicism in his voice. “She was a heathen, as I am.”
“I’ll never stop praying for you.”
“It’s the pinnacle of arrogance to think your beliefs are the way, the truth, and light.”
“I only know what I believe.”
His gaze went over her shoulder to all those who pretended to work but instead watched and whispered. “Even after everything we talked about?”
“You opened my eyes to the beauty of the world around me. I’m so thankful for that.” Every time she saw a blue heron or smelled the mustiness of wet leaves and dirt on a riverbank, she would think of him. Every time it rained or the wind blew or the water lapped along the shorelines of the lake, she would think of him. “That is a great gift.”
“You made me examine what I believe and what’s important in my life.” He patted his old green car. “I left my laptop at home. I filled out the application to attend the university next semester. I’ll study archaeology. That is a great gift, and I’m thankful for it.”
Those beautiful eyes were so sad even though he spoke happy, hopeful words. He still had many miles to go before he found his contentment. Hers waited for her only steps away. “You’re on the right track then.”
“I am. I also found my dad. He’s a guide for an outfitter company at Swan Lake.” He ducked his head. “You have so much family, and I thought I should be more in touch with what I have.”
“You’re right. You should.” They had both made progress. Because of the fire, their lives had touched for a brief few weeks. Part of God’s plan? The bishop would say no. So would Andy. But those were human perspectives. No one knew for sure how God’s plan unfolded. Only He knew. “Will you see him again?”
“We might go fishing.”
“That’s a good start.”
“It looks like you have a good start here.” He nodded toward the beginnings of a new house for the Knowles. “Are you and Andy getting married?”
“He hasn’t asked yet, but I think he will.” Heat curled up her neck and around her cheeks. Not a topic she ever imagined discussing with a man like Raymond. Yet she would tell a brother. “It might be soon.”
“He seems like a good man, and it’s obvious he loves you. Good for you, Christine.” The sadness gone from his smooth face, he tugged car keys from his pocket. “I should go. You have work to do. And I have to get back to my life.”
“Goodbye, Raymond Old Fox.”
“Have a good life.”
“I will.” Christine walked around the car with him. She waited until he got in and rolled down the window. “Clean out your car before you decide to take Tonya on a date. Even girls who aren’t germophobes like me prefer a man with a clean car or buggy, as the case may be.”
He grinned. “Thanks for the tip. I’ll take it under advisement.”
“You do that.”
He stuck his hand out the window and waved as he drove away. Christine watched until the car became a speck and then disappeared. Sadness for his loss washed over her, but Gramma’s days were done. What happened to her now was in God’s hands. They would both have to be satisfied with the knowledge that God’s ways were perfect and, at the same time, unknowable.
A steady stream of delight filled the void—delight at having known this man and peeked into his world. His trip here to tell her about Gramma and his dad reflected his feelings. Their time together had been important. Now it was over.
She turned and walked back to the picnic tables. Andy, to his credit, waited. He didn’t rush her. He refilled his paper cup. Her father had gone back to work. As had the bishop. There would be private discussions later, no doubt, but right now work was more important.
“He’s gone for gut.” She grabbed the full trash bag from its can and tied off the top, then set it aside so she could replace the bag. “Danki for letting me talk to him and for explaining to Daed. I know he doesn’t understand. The elders don’t understand. But it’s done now. Raymond won’t be back.”
Andy glanced around. He crumpled his cup and tossed it into the fresh bag. “I know I’ve had my own struggles. It’s only been a month, but so much has happened.” He picked up a hammer and laid it flat on the palm of his big hand. “I keep reminding myself that we’re honed by our struggles. Iron on iron. I don’t like it. I suppose that’s human. I wish I were a better man.”
In this world there would be trouble. It surely didn’t end here, but facing those troubles with Andy, God between them, meant she had no reason to fear. “You are a better man. I’ve seen your changes with my own eyes. I hope I can do as well. I feel like Gott must be so disappointed in me sometimes. Often.”
“I reckon He must be used to it by now. We’ll do better, but we’ll never be perfect.”
His lopsided smile made Christine’s heart do that crazy drumroll. Heat toasted her cheeks. She picked up the trash bag. “I better get back to work. Everyone is watching us. I should help Mudder make more sandwiches.”
“They all have their own troubles to tend to.” He took the bag from her. “I’ll drop this at the dumpster.”
“I can do that.”
“I don’t mind. I need to stretch my legs.”
He needed to think. That’s what Andy did.
“Have you seen the girls? I need to talk to them.” All three had their own struggles with men in this season of their lives. At least Christine wasn’t the only one. They might not have the answers, but they could commiserate. ASAP. “Do you think Daed will want me to go to Kansas until we . . . I mean, until you . . .?”
The heat on her skin now a boil, she stopped and threw up her hands. “You know what I mean.”
“He doesn’t plan to return for at least another week, maybe two. He told me so this morning. He wants to help his neighbors, as does your mudder.” Andy’s words, coupled with the way his knowing gaze burned through her, grew hope from a spindly seedling to a stout oak. His smile widened. “We have time. Mercy had her own visitor—the smoke jumper. Caleb’s fit to be tied. Juliette took a walk with her deputy. I haven’t seen Nora. You have time to huddle with your friends.”
Christine took the time to watch him walk toward the dumpsters. Everything about his muscle-bound frame, his walk, his broad shoulders, the shaggy blond hair peeking from under his hat mesmerized her. With a shake of her head, she grinned to herself. You have work to do, missy. And friends who need you. And news to share.
He loves me. And I love him.
She couldn’t wait to see what came next.