by Tricia Goyer
Rebecca glanced at Marianna from the corner of her eye. Her friend’s eyes grew wide. She guessed Marianna was trying to hold back a smile. It seemed that every time one got beyond Indiana, Ohio, or Pennsylvania, no one knew how to handle one’s talk of being Amish.
The officer took more notes and nodded. Did he believe them at all?
Rebecca stopped her tapping and cleared her throat. “So, do you think there is any chance?”
“Well.” He pushed his glasses down on the tip of his nose. “I have good news and bad news. The bad news is that because it was stolen from the highway, the thieves could be all the way to Idaho by now. The good news is that if the suitcase was in as bad of shape as you said, then they might have tossed it. I’ll send out an APB for my guys to keep an eye out. Can I get the best number to contact you?”
Rebecca gave the officer the number to her cell phone, and Marianna’s number as a backup. Ben then proceeded to tell them the other things that were stolen. A toolbox and a duffel bag with his clothes. No one had been interested in their camping gear.
When they finished, the cop escorted them outside. Rebecca felt as if her whole world had caved in. There was no use going to Oregon. She’d been counting on that money to pay for her housing and food and everything else she’d need over the next year. Even if she found a part-time job, she’d never be able to get her start.
As they walked through the parking lot to their truck, she thought about her parents. “So are we going back . . . to drop me off at the hotel to be with Mem and Dat?” she asked.
She watched her feet as she walked to the truck.
“No, Rebecca.” Marianna’s voice was sharp. “We’re going to run by the bank, and then we’ll have just enough time for you to give them a quick good-bye before the train.”
Rebecca paused her steps, glancing over at her friend. “Didn’t you hear what I said?”
“I did. We did. Ben and I are going to pull some money from our savings. We can’t give you the whole amount, but we can give you enough to replace your things and cover a few months of rent.”
Rebecca placed a hand over her heart. “What? No . . . no, I can’t accept that.”
“Listen.” Ben walked up to Rebecca. “I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but I recorded a song that did pretty well. Marianna and I set aside money from the proceeds to help people . . . and this is something we’d like to do.”
“I can’t accept that from you. It’s too much.”
Ben rubbed his brow. “It’ll ease my conscience. Believe me, I’ll be able to sleep better tonight, tomorrow night, if you take it. Besides, God’s Word says, ‘Give as freely as you have received.’ ”
“But . . . we need to hurry.” Marianna pointed to the truck. “We have less than an hour to stop by the bank and say our good-byes. And pray.” She smiled. “I wouldn’t put it past God to do a miracle here.”
Rebecca stood with Marianna on the platform. Marianna offered a too-bright smile. Rebecca’s parents hadn’t shown up as they’d said they would. Ben had run back to see if they’d needed a ride, but there was no answer at the door.
Marianna believed they had gone to lunch and had just lost track of time, but Rebecca felt otherwise. Mem was heartbroken, and she didn’t want anyone to see her cry. The same had happened after Claudia’s death. Instead of gathering her family together, Mem had turned away. She’d wallowed in her grief alone. Rebecca just hoped Mem turned to God in those times. No one deserved to be alone in her pain.
Ben approached and handed Rebecca the train ticket. “Here you go. Portland will meet you on the other side.”
“Danki.” Rebecca nodded and tears welled up. Ben leaned forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Time’ll go fast. You’ll see. Then you can come back to Montana and have a second chance at spotting a bear.”
“It’s not the bear that eludes her.” Marianna sighed. “She had her eye on something else—someone else.”
The call to board sounded, and Marianna offered a hug, clinging tight.
“Take care of that boppli, will you?” Rebecca whispered in her ear.
Marianna stepped back and wiped away her tears. “Ja, of course.”
“Do you mind if we say a ten-second prayer?” Ben asked.
“Of course not.”
“Lord, be with my sister here. Watch over her. Show her favor. And we have faith, Lord, that you can even bring that suitcase back to her. Amen.”
Rebecca patted her pocket with her new wallet, new tooth-brush, and her cell phone. All she had left in this world. And then she turned and strode onto the train. She sank into the seat nearest the door, unable to go any farther. Marianna and Ben stood on the platform, the small white train station looking like something off a greeting card behind them. She tried not to feel jealous that Marianna had the picture-perfect life. And what did she have to look forward to? Eleven hours on the train with no one waiting on the other side. At least she could sleep.
Rebecca settled back into the seat, snuggling down the best she could and wishing that she had a blanket. The train started, picking up speed and clacking on the tracks. Just as she was dozing off, Rebecca’s phone rang. She checked the number. It was from the hotel her parents had been staying at. Rebecca didn’t have the energy to answer. She was dealing with her own questions; she didn’t have enough energy to reach out to them, to apologize again.
Rebecca turned off her phone and settled back down. Tomorrow she’d call her parents back. Tomorrow she’d face her new life in Portland. Right now she was going to allow herself to fall asleep and dream about Caleb. Dream that they were walking in the woods, breathing in the fresh pine scent, and planning their life together.
CHAPTER
28
Rebecca hadn’t realized how long she’d been sleeping until the conductor approached, shaking her shoulder.
“Weren’t you getting off in Portland, miss? We’re here.”
Rebecca sat up and rubbed her eyes, sure that someone was playing a joke on her. But when she looked out, she saw a Welcome to Portland, Union Station sign on the building.
“Danki—thank you, sir.” She checked to see if she still had her phone and wallet and then stepped off the train. She wasn’t in a hurry as she walked to the station, and something above her caught her eye. Rebecca turned back and looked up. There, crossing from Union Station—over the train tracks—was a bridge.
A bridge! She gasped and pulled her phone from her pocket, snapping a photo.
“Do you like that, miss?” A baggage handler approached her.
“Yes, very much. Bridges have come to mean a lot to me these days.”
“It’s a pedestrian bridge. There’s just an apartment complex on the other side, but you’re welcome to go across. It’ll give you a nice view of Bridgetown.”
“Bridgetown?”
“Yes, didn’t you know that was Portland’s nickname?”
“No.” Tears slid down her cheeks. She guessed the baggage clerk was going to worry about her, but she didn’t care.
She wiped her tears away and then looked down at the photo she’d snapped on her phone. She could see a few pedestrians on the bridge and . . . Rebecca gasped. One of the pedestrians was looking down at the train, and it appeared as though he was wearing an Amish hat. Homesickness slogged through her heart in a way she didn’t expect. She zoomed in on the photo. It was someone in an Amishman’s hat, all right, but she couldn’t see his face.
Rebecca looked back up, but there was no one on the bridge. She wiped more tears and turned toward the train station.
“Looking for someone, sweetie?” The woman’s voice rang out as clear as could be.
“Millie!” Rebecca turned to see her standing there, white hair and wrinkled cheeks pushed up in a smile. Millie wore a blue shirt and jeans. Her thumbs were hooked in the belt loops, but she released them and opened her arms.
“I’m sorry, but that good-bye in Montana was for the birds.” Millie gave Rebecca a quick hug. “M
ore than that, we have something to show you. An answer to prayer. He went to get it from my truck.”
“He?” Rebecca turned the direction Millie was pointing, and her heart felt as if it was going to jump out of her chest from all its wild beating.
“He . . . Caleb. That’s who.” Millie pointed, but Rebecca didn’t need her help finding him in the crowd. She saw him, in his Amish pants, shirt, and suspenders, striding toward her. His smile was wide. His eyes were bright. And in her hand was a suitcase. Her suitcase!
“How in the world? What . . . How did you get it?”
“A trooper found it on the side of the road. It seems whoever stole it took out all your stuff . . . and tossed the suitcase on the side. I suppose they thought it too tattered to be of any use.”
“And did they find the . . .” She paused, wondering if Millie knew.
“The money?” Caleb asked.
“Ja, how did you know?”
“Marianna told us,” Millie explained. “We tried to call your cell phone, but you didn’t answer.”
Rebecca shrugged, glancing bashfully up at Caleb. “I had a lot on my mind. I turned it off.”
“Yes, well, we checked, and the money is there . . . along with your written prayers.” Millie chuckled. “Instead of a God box, I see that you have a God suitcase. I think that works just fine. Plenty of room.”
“But how did you get here before me?” Rebecca asked. “Last I heard you were on your way to the falls.”
“They found the suitcase about an hour after you left,” Millie explained. “They got ahold of Ben and Marianna, and they found us and gave us their truck to drive. Annie and Ike were going to come, but he convinced her to stay back and go on a date instead. And poor Amos got left watching over all our things—our wagons and horses.” Millie cocked one eyebrow. “The train takes eleven hours, and it was eight hours and eight minutes to drive . . . exactly. We’ve been here an hour or so.”
Rebecca chuckled. “So you’ve been waiting around?”
Caleb stepped forward and offered her a warm smile. “Just a little bit, but it was worth it. And we were able to enjoy the best clam chowder I’ve ever eaten.”
“Ach, are you going to show me?”
Caleb offered his arm. “I have a lot to share about Portland, and we even have a chaperone.”
Millie waved a hand. “Don’t mind me!”
“Well, how long do you have to show me around?” she asked.
Caleb turned to her and poked out his bottom lip. “I’m sad to say, only one full day. I have reservations to catch a plane back to Ohio the day after next.”
“A plane?” Rebecca placed her hands on her hips. “Really?”
“I had to be able to tell the story of the trip to my opa, didn’t I? He always wanted to get up in a plane. Besides, that’s the fastest way back to him.”
“Ready for some clam chowder?” Millie said. “And then if you’re up to it, we’re going to do some serious retail therapy.”
“Millie, that sounds fun, but I only have to replace my things in my suitcase. I’m fine, now that I have Oma’s money.”
“Not to your friends. Everyone pitched in and sent me with a wad of cash.” Millie wrapped an arm around Rebecca’s shoulders. “We want to bless you, honey. We want to let you know that we believe in you . . . believe in all you’re doing.”
Rebecca swallowed hard and glanced up at the bridge. “Danki.” It was only a whisper but it came from her heart . . . way down deep in her heart.
Caleb walked along the cement sidewalk—a new addition since he’d been home. Last time he’d been there his grandfather was propped up in his hospital bed. The curtains had been drawn and the room had been shut tight. The air inside had smelled like a hospital.
Caleb’s heart had ached, realizing that if he’d been well, Opa would have walked into a room like that and opened the drapes and the door wide. Yet when Caleb had left, Opa couldn’t even lift his head, let alone open the window to the sunshine outside.
But today, not only the window was open wide, but the door was too. Caleb quickened his pace and stepped through the doorway.
“Ab–out time . . .” The slurred words met him as he entered. Caleb’s head lifted and his eyes moved across the room to the figure in the bed. Opa was propped up on pillows, and his eyes were focused on Caleb.
“You—” Caleb removed his hat and tossed it on the hook, not knowing what to say, what to do. “You’re talking?”
He rushed toward his grandfather. His mem was sitting at Opa’s side. Her face was lit in a smile.
“Opa, you’re right. I’m so sorry it took me so long to come back.” Then he turned to his mem. “How is this possible?”
“Did you know Mrs. Kelly down the street? Her daughter is a therapist. She’s been coming to work with Opa for about an hour each day. I wrote about it in some of my letters . . .”
“Pretty?” The word slurred from Opa’s lips.
“Oh, Mrs. Kelly’s daughter is pretty, is she?”
Opa gave the slightest furrowing of his brow. “Ne. Reb—Re . . .”
“Amos wrote us a letter,” Mem explained. “Opa knows about Rebecca.”
Caleb blushed but held his gaze steady on his grandfather’s eyes. “Ja.” He nodded wildly. “Wouldn’t have stayed away so long if she wasn’t.”
“Kiss?” Opa offered a half grin.
“My, you have become nosy. In spite of what you may think, I’m not one to share that type of information unless I have permission. But you can ask Rebecca when she comes.”
“She’s coming to Ohio?” Mem asked, clasping her hands together.
Caleb nodded. “I’m trying to talk her into coming for Christmas, if not sooner.”
Caleb didn’t mention nursing school. From the eagerness in Mem’s eyes, he could tell Amos hadn’t told Mem where Rebecca was . . . or about nursing school either. But there would be plenty of time to talk about that. To explain.
Instead Caleb sat down on Opa’s bed. “Do you forgive me, Grandfather?”
A shaky hand reached over and grabbed his.
“Ja . . .” His opa’s single word rang out clear.
That was all Caleb needed. His heart leapt. He could tell from his grandfather’s face that all that mattered was that Caleb was there. Now all he needed to do was to figure out how to bring the woman he loved here too.
CHAPTER
29
FOUR MONTHS LATER
The small kitchen table sat covered with books. Rebecca’s head hurt from studying, but it was better than the alternative. When she wasn’t studying she was thinking, and when she was thinking she always thought of Caleb. Had she made a big mistake by coming here instead of going with him to Ohio? One could always follow one’s dream, but how often did true love come one’s way?
She slammed shut her nursing ethics book and rubbed her eyes, wondering if she’d still be able to fall asleep tonight if she took a nap now. There was nothing worse than being up at night tossing and turning.
Rebecca rose and slipped on her tennis shoes and pink hoodie. She decided to go for a walk instead. Or maybe she’d take the tram up to University Hospital and take in the view of the city, of the bridges.
She’d just finished zipping up her jacket and grabbing her apartment keys when a knock came at the door. Without hesitation she cupped her hands around her mouth. “Jennifer moved upstairs to apartment 214!” she called.
There was a reason the landlord had given her a discount on her apartment rent, she decided, and it had nothing to do with her sweet face. The former tenant was the most popular girl in Portland, and friends and suitors came by at all hours of the day—and sometimes night—to visit.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know who Jennifer is, but your voice sounds like someone I’ve come a long way to see,” the voice called back. She recognized that voice. She stood there. Her feet refused to move. Her stomach flipped and her heart pounded.
There was a second, softer knock. “
Rebecca, are you going to let me in?”
Rebecca dropped her apartment keys and then quickly bent over to pick them up. She rushed to the door and swung it open. “Caleb, what in the world are you doing here?” Her emotion caught in her throat, and she felt like pinching herself. He was real. He was here. And he was even handsomer than she remembered.
A long moment passed and he seemed to be soaking in the sight of her too. His eyes filled with unanswered questions. “So, it’s okay, then, that I showed up, ja?”
“Yes, of course! I’ve . . . I’ve been wanting to see you. I received your letters, and I’m sorry I haven’t written back very often. It’s just these studies are taking so much time . . .”
He stepped forward and looked down at her, his gaze tender. “I’m not a patient man.”
“I know, but I’m thankful for the time that you gave me to think. I needed it. I needed it to know how much I miss you. How much I want you in my life.” Tears filled her eyes.
“I was hoping you’d say that, Rebecca. Or at least something close.” Without another word, he bent to her and ran a finger down her jawline. Rebecca’s heart quickened its beat and threatened to burst from her chest. She dropped her hands to her sides, telling herself not to leap into his arms. Telling herself to let him take the lead.
“How . . . how long are you going to be here?”
He stepped in, closer. “I haven’t decided yet, but I don’t think we should waste any time.”
Rebecca told herself to breathe. She tried to blink back her happy tears, but it was no use.
He touched his thumb to her face, wiping away a stray tear. “Hey, you look a little stressed.” He leaned closer, closer. Rebecca lifted her chin to him. She’d been thinking of this—their first real kiss—but just before his lips touched hers, Caleb pulled back.