by Beth Wiseman
Time. How could time resolve the differences between herself and Ben?
“Why are you frowning?” Sarah Fisher stopped to ask. The rosy-cheeked toddler she balanced on one hip held out her chubby hands.
Rebecca smiled and took Katie Ann and held her high. “I can’t have been frowning, not when this sweet kind is anywhere near.” She held her close and inhaled the special clean baby scent. “Oh, whenever I see this one, I am so very happy for you and David.”
Sarah nodded. “I prayed for a long time for God to send me David. And to send me a boppli.”
“David?” Rebecca stared at Sarah. “He was always yours, from the day he saved you from that stray dog that was chasing you. What were you, twelve?”
Laughing, Sarah grasped Katie Ann’s hand as she tried to pull one of the strings on Rebecca’s kapp.
“Sometimes other people see what we cannot,” Sarah murmured obliquely. “He never lacked for the attention of the other girls at singings and such.” She stroked her child’s cheek. “But he was so worth waiting for. He got me through the pain of my miscarriage and the waiting for Katie Ann here. It was God’s will if we had children, if we received this precious gift, he kept telling me, and if we didn’t, we would be a family, the two of us.”
Rebecca bounced Katie Ann, and she gurgled.
“Could you watch her for a moment for me?” Sarah asked. “I need to use the bathroom. I’ve had to run to it three times already this morning.” She laughed when Rebecca’s eyes widened. Glancing around, she leaned in and with her eyes sparkling admitted, “Yes, I’m wondering if I’m pregnant again.”
Swaying and bouncing Katie Ann, loving the way the toddler giggled and giggled, Rebecca walked around the room.
When Katie Ann squealed with delight, Rebecca turned to see David approaching and handed her over.
After greeting Rebecca, he looked at his daughter. “So what did you think of the services today, Katie Ann?” He listened with a thoughtful expression as she babbled baby talk. “Ya, the singing was my favorite part too.”
“She’s quite a talker.”
David nodded. “Takes after her mamm.” When Rebecca looked over his shoulder and smiled, he rolled his eyes. “She’s standing behind me, isn’t she?”
“Ya,” Rebecca said, and she laughed.
David turned, and his grin faded. “Sarah, are you all right? You look a little pale.”
“I’m fine, but do you think we could leave now and eat at home?”
“Ya, sure. I’ll go get the buggy and meet you out front. Be sure to bundle up.”
He put Katie Ann in her arms, then turned to Rebecca. “Sarah and I are feeling a little tired. Katie Ann had a tooth coming in this week and kept us up.”
Sarah and Rebecca exchanged glances.
“What?” David looked from one to the other.
“I’ll tell you later,” Sarah said.
Rebecca helped Sarah put Katie Ann’s coat on. It took two of them because Katie Ann was laughing and pinwheeling her arms. Sarah got her own coat on, and then Rebecca hugged her. “I’ll be praying for you,” she whispered to Sarah.
“I said I’d be happy if God sent me one child,” Sarah whispered back. “But now, if He sent another . . .” She stopped, as if she couldn’t even envision such happiness.
Rebecca nodded. “I know.”
She was standing at the kitchen window, watching the buggy leave, when Amanda joined her.
“Are you coming to the singing tonight?”
“I’m not sure.” As if drawn by magnets, her gaze locked with Ben’s on the other side of the room.
Amanda’s gaze followed hers. “You care for him, don’t you?”
“Shh!” Rebecca glanced around to see if anyone had heard.
Ben was opening the oven door for his mother, but she was talking to him, and there was so much chatter and noise with others moving about in the room, she realized no one could have heard.
“Besides, it doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter!” Amanda insisted in a lowered voice. “Go after him if you want him.” She gave Rebecca a not-so-gentle push.
“Not now,” she told Amanda.
“Then when?” Amanda demanded. “When?”
Don’t be afraid!
“What is it?”
Rebecca blinked. “What is what?”
“You just looked funny—kind of startled. What is it?”
Don’t be afraid!
Although she realized that Amanda was staring at her, waiting for an answer, Rebecca wasn’t about to explain.
Ben used potholders to pull a heavy casserole from the oven and set it on top of the stove. He closed the oven door and turned to her. “Anything else you need?”
“No, thank you, Sohn.”
He saw Rebecca standing, looking out the window near the front door with Amanda and wondered what they were talking about. When Rebecca looked over and saw him, then glanced away quickly as Amanda did the same, he suspected they were talking about him.
He wondered if that was a gut thing or bad.
Then something Amanda said to Rebecca upset her. Amanda walked away and Rebecca stood staring after her, her forehead creased in thought. Ben started to walk over to her but found his way blocked by women hurrying around in the kitchen. By the time he could move forward, Jacob was standing there talking to Rebecca, and he lost his chance.
Ben knew that women found Jacob attractive. He was fairhaired, with blue eyes and dimples. He was several years older, and his farm was one of the most prosperous in the county.
An unaccustomed jealousy flared up in Ben as he watched the two talking. It was so immediate, so strong, that he felt his steps propelling him toward the door and outside into the chilly day.
It took several minutes for him to become aware that he’d left his jacket and hat inside. Feeling a little foolish, he debated going back inside for them. He heard the door behind him open, then shut.
“Forget something?”
His daed held his coat and hat in his hands.
Looking sheepish, Ben took the coat and pulled it on, then accepted the hat, settling it on his head. “Danki.”
They stood staring at the fields surrounding the house. “I saw you come out here after Jacob began talking to Rebecca.”
Ben gave him a sideways glance but said nothing.
“You know, I’d always been taught to turn to God, to pray to Him as my Father,” Samuel said after long moments had passed. “After I had children, I started thinking about what it must be like to be God watching over His children. You know, He sees them happy, and He sees them sad or hurting.”
He paused and glanced over at Ben. “The happy part would be easy. But I wondered how He felt watching them when they’re having difficult times. It’s hard for a father not to jump in and try to fix things, like you fix an engine that’s not working or repair a broken fence. I asked myself if our heavenly Father had trouble not jumping in to fix things for His children.”
He turned as a couple emerged from the house and said goodbye to them. After they were out of earshot, he turned back to Ben and laid a hand on his shoulder. “It’s been a long winter.”
Ben nodded. “For years it’s been a sad time for Rebecca. But she’s finally more at peace about Lizzie and looking happier.”
“And maybe becoming interested in someone?” his father asked quietly.
“Yes, it seems so,” he said finally.
“Just like you and Mary Anne.”
Ben’s head shot up. “Not because I wanted to.”
“Don’t see any harness on you,” Samuel said, and with that, he ambled back inside.
Laughing ruefully, Ben stared after him. No, Mary Anne had no harness on him.
But there was sure something tying him to Rebecca. Always had been.
Amanda came out of the house. She stopped and looked at Ben. “Are you going to stand out here forever?”
“Just getting some air.”
&nbs
p; “Awfully cold air.”
Turning, he looked at her. “Is there something you want to say, Amanda?”
Her hazel eyes sparkled with mischief. “I think you should come to the singing.”
“Because?”
“Ya, because.” With that she fairly danced down the steps.
Ben wondered what was going on. He’d known Amanda all his life. While she was sweet, she was always nosing about in someone’s business—not for bad reasons, but because she cared.
He guessed he’d be going to the singing tonight. Then he stopped and laughed at himself. He’d been so upset, he’d forgotten—his family was hosting it because they’d had services here earlier and the benches and hymnals were already present. It was obvious God’s hand was at work.
Rebecca knew the minute Ben walked into the singing.
If she hadn’t, Amanda’s sharp elbow in her ribs apprised her of the fact. “Go over there and talk to him,” Amanda hissed in her ear.
“He just came in.”
“Are you going to let Mary Ann fawn all over him? Or are you going to do something before she gets her claws into him?”
The image made her laugh. She saw Ben’s head come up, and he stared at her from across the room. And then Mary Ann walked up and put her hand on his arm.
Rebecca took a deep breath and let it out. After the services, she’d returned to her house and gone to her room to read for a while. Instead, she’d lain there and found herself thinking about what had happened earlier, when she’d been talking with Amanda and heard that inner voice urging her not to be afraid.
It was time to be brave, to approach Ben and tell him she was sorry about what had happened between them. Maybe she couldn’t get their relationship back to what it had been, but she didn’t want this rift, this distance between them.
As much as she fought it, Ben mattered to her. Each day that passed made her miss him more. She missed talking with him, missed him listening to her with that quiet, intense way of his. Missed doing things with him and being with him and seeing the way he showed what a big, generous heart he had every time he was around her family or his.
She hadn’t appreciated what she had when she had it, she thought. It was as simple as that.
“You’re looking lieblich tonight,” Jacob said, his voice low and intimate in her ear. “That color is very pretty on you. Brings out the green in your eyes.”
Rebecca stared down at her dark green frack, then up into his eyes. There was frank interest in them. But while it was flattering to have him tell her she looked lovely, she noticed that he was looking around the room, assessing not just her but other females there as if he were in a candy store.
“Why don’t I get us something to drink?”
When she nodded agreement, he sauntered off.
Ben wanted to marry her. She knew what kind of husband he’d be, since they’d spent so much time together. And she knew he had the qualities to make someone a good mann. Other young women might not mind that he didn’t have the right words, and maybe she wouldn’t have minded either. She’d just needed more than to be told they’d “suit.”
It wasn’t often that Rebecca acted on the spur of the moment, but the last time she had, when she’d asked Ben to a picnic, well, that had turned out well, hadn’t it?
She found her steps carrying her across the room to Ben. As if he were attuned to her thoughts, Ben looked up and saw her. He started walking toward her.
“Rebecca? Rebecca?”
Blinking, she stopped. Jacob stood before her, holding out her soft drink.
“Where were you going?” he asked.
And then he saw Ben.
“She’s with me,” Jacob said bluntly, even a little belligerently.
“Rebecca says who she’s with,” Ben told him in his quiet voice. “No one owns her.”
“Ya, you had your chance.” Jacob moved possessively, positioning himself to block off Ben.
Rebecca held up her hand. “Jacob, I just need to talk to Ben for a moment.”
Jacob glowered at Ben for a long moment, then he nodded and walked off.
The moment he was gone, Rebecca and Ben turned to each other.
“I—”
“I—”
They stopped and laughed.
“Ladies first,” said Ben.
“I’m sorry for what happened between us,” she began.
“Me too,” he said, moving closer. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about it. Could we maybe go for a ride?”
Rebecca glanced around. “I should tell Jacob—” She broke off.
Mary Ann was standing with a group of her friends, showing them what looked to Rebecca like a small card in her hand.
“What is it?” Ben asked her.
There was a buzz of conversation, and several people looked over at Rebecca. Mary Ann was walking toward her, a gleam in her eyes.
“Is this why he hangs around with you?” she asked Rebecca, holding out the card. “Does he feel sorry for you because you’ve got . . . emotional problems?”
Rebecca stared at it blankly for a moment. It was one of Dr. Prato’s business cards. “What’s this about?” she asked, lifting her eyes. “Where did you get this?”
“Why don’t you ask Ben? I found it in his buggy.” With that, Mary Ann strolled back to her friends.
Feeling as if someone had pulled the rug out from under her feet, Rebecca looked at Ben. “I don’t understand. Ben? What was this doing in your buggy?”
“I can explain.”
She looked around and saw that Mary Ann and her friends were staring at them. “Did you go talk to Dr. Prato about me?”
“I talked to her, but she didn’t tell me anything confidential.”
Rebecca shook her head. This was like a nightmare. “And you shared it with Mary Anne?”
“No. You heard her. She found the card in my buggy. I guess I dropped it. She must have figured one of us went to visit the doctor and decided it was you.”
“Lucky guess.” Rebecca crossed her arms over her chest. “And now she’s really enjoying herself, isn’t she?” she said as she watched the other woman talking with her friends.
“I’ll go talk to her.”
“No.” She put a hand on his arm to stop him. “I will.”
She marched over to Mary Ann, and all talk stopped.
“I’m not ashamed of going to see Dr. Prato. I don’t have ‘emotional problems.’ But even if I did, I’d be proud of myself for going to someone to help myself. I hope that you never go through what I went through,” she said in a steady voice. “I didn’t want to live after Lizzie died. Dr. Prato helped me through my grief.”
“You should have gone to God about it,” Mary Ann told her in a superior tone.
“‘Judge not, that ye not be judged,’” Rebecca replied. With that, she turned and walked away.
“Rebecca!” Marian caught up with her. “What’s going on?”
“Mary Anne’s just trying to cause trouble.”
“How? Why?”
People were still staring.
“I don’t want to talk about it now.”
“Do you want to go home? We can go home.”
Rebecca shook her head. “I don’t want to spoil your time.”
“I can take you home,” Ben said quietly from behind her. “Please let me.”
“No. I don’t want to talk to you now,” Rebecca told him without looking at him.
“Fine. Then I’m coming over tomorrow, after I finish work.”
Rebecca turned to tell him not to, but he was already striding away.
Chapter Twelve
REBECCA LACED UP HER ICE SKATES AND STOOD.
There was no voice this time urging her not to be afraid. Maybe that was because she was facing her fears. At least, facing one of them.
It had taken her five years.
She wobbled, and her arms shot out and flapped as she fought for balance. Finally, relieved that she wasn’t going to fall on
her bottom, she cautiously pushed out onto the ice. She wobbled again for a moment and then, to her utter amazement, it came back to her—the balance, then the miracle of skimming along on the ice, free as a bird.
It was so quiet here, just the scrape of ice beneath her feet, the cold wind against her cheeks. Freedom, such freedom. A sense of being outside herself, of doing what she couldn’t do when she was walking on the ground.
She stayed in the area where everyone skated, mindful of the fact that it was late in the season. There was no way she would risk what had happened to Lizzie.
She’d gotten home early that afternoon and felt restless. She knew Ben was coming and they’d have to talk. But she couldn’t sit still.
So she’d started out for a walk and then turned back, impulsively running upstairs to get her skates.
Around and around the pond she skated; then, after a time, she experimented with a small twirl, a jump, a backward circle. Oh, it was nothing compared to the way she had skated before, but the joy was there. The joy was there.
She’d seen an ice skating movie once, during her rumschpringe, with Lizzie and other girls at a nearby theater. Of course, Rebecca was the first to admit that she was in no way as good as the skaters in the movie, not back then and certainly not now since she was out of practice. But she’d always enjoyed it and spent every free moment on the ice on the pond in the winter, so she became more skilled than the others.
Not that she drew any pride from it. Hochmut was sinful. She simply skated because of how calm, how free it made her feel. All else faded away.
A little out of breath, she skated over to the edge of the pond and sat down on a log someone had put there. Maybe she’d take a rest and then skate just a little more before heading home. She’d promised Ben she’d talk to him after work. No doubt he’d come find her if she wasn’t there.
“Rebecca!”
Looking up from lacing her skates, she saw that Lizzie was already streaking across the ice. It was just Lizzie’s way—it wasn’t that there was a competition and she wanted to be first. She simply couldn’t wait for anyone else when she was ready to dive into her next adventure.
Lizzie wasn’t as good a skater as Rebecca. She was enthusiastic, but she wasn’t willing to practice. If it didn’t come easily and wasn’t enough fun, Lizzie moved on to something else.