Beside Still Waters by Tricia Goyer Page A

peeling potatoes."
    "You need to be more careful, but maybe that goes to show you you should start spending more time in the kitchen and less tending to babies and animals. A good husband is to expect good food."
    Naomi cleared her throat, and Marianna looked to her out of the corner of her eyes. Naomi was frozen in place and her eyes sent a silent plea.
    "Yes, Mem." Marianna lowered her hands. "You're right. I'll finish the potatoes and then help the kids with the rolls. But first I'll walk Naomi to the door. The sun is already beginning to set, and we'd hate to have her walking home in the dark."
    They walked to the door and Naomi paused on the porch.
    "I won't say anything," Marianna whispered, "but only because I hope you'll reconsider."
    Naomi nodded and moved to the steps. "Yes, of course."
    Yet even as she strode away Marianna knew it was just words. Naomi's mind was set. The community was on the verge of yet another heartbreak.

CHAPTER SIX

    The slightest breeze blew through the open kitchen window, ruffling the pages of the scenic calendar hanging on the wall. Her mother stirred the potato soup on the stovetop, and then sat down on the table bench with a heavy sigh. She looked tired tonight. Dark circles ringed her eyes. Levi's visit had taken its toll.
    "Just break off a little piece of dough and roll it in the palms of your hands like this," Marianna explained to Ellie and Josiah, trying to keep her tone light. Trying to brighten the mood of her siblings. Charlie and David had set up checkers in the living room, which was connected to the kitchen, but they sat silently, not starting the game.
    All the younger ones loved Levi, missed him. Twelve-year-old David understood the rules of the church and knew what Levi's leaving meant. But at eight and five, Charlie and Josiah hadn't fully grasped their brother's actions, and Ellie no doubt wondered what all the fuss was about.
    "Like dis?" Ellie rolled the dough with her chubby hand.
    "Yes, then we're going to line them up all in a row." Marianna placed a lump of warm dough on the cookie sheet. With a wide grin, Ellie plopped her dough next to Marianna's.
    Ellie's navy blue kapp contrasted with her bright blonde hair, and her looks and coloring couldn't be more different from five-year-old Josiah's dark complexion, more like their dat. Marianna wondered again who Marilynn and Joanna looked like most. Her chest clenched when she realized Joanna hadn't been much older than Ellie was now when she died.
    Marianna sighed as she looked at her sister. If only she could stay that innocent and sweet forever. If only she didn't have to hear the story of the night Marianna was born. To grow up and discover that, even though they lived a simple life, there was nothing simple about their losses. If only she could escape the pain that lingered like the May chill creeping in with the sunset, not allowing spring to occupy the night.
    Her brother and sister lined up more misshapen lumps next to hers.
    "Great job." She, of course, could make rolls better and faster, but her siblings had to learn—just as she'd learned from her mother. Even though she'd rather be rocking a baby or bottle feeding one of the new lambs, she did fine in the kitchen, despite her mother's admonitions.
    The soup simmered on the stovetop, filling the room with an aroma that made Marianna's stomach growl. The steam from the pot also brought a moistness to the air, fogging the kitchen window and making it harder to see her father outside. He and Uncle Ike had been talking a good hour. A conversation that long could only mean their discussion was serious in nature. Dat never stood around, wasting time chatting unless there was a purpose. Working full time in the factory in town and caring for a family and a farm saw to that.
    Her mother flipped through the stack of mail. Marianna liked nothing better than enjoying a quiet evening at home with her siblings. But there was no joy tonight. The truth of Naomi's plan