Rebecca's Choice (The Adams County Trilogy 3)
Page 8
“There is a God in heaven,” Rachel said. Her face lit up with hope. She clutched the page of gray paper against her chest with both hands, unaware of the ink stains the grip left on her fingers.
“It was a mighty stupid thing to do,” Reuben said, looking up from his own section of the paper. “There can be nothing but trouble from such things. They should be kept quiet. Instead, it’s been broadcasted from the rooftops. Only Da Hah knows how such things ought to be said. Humans ought to stay out of His business.”
“He is doing His business,” Rachel said, a smile on her face.
Over in his chair, Reuben glanced at Rachel as she got up and walked out to the kitchen.
Across the state line on Wheat Ridge, Miriam found the article after supper. She handed the page silently to Isaac. He read it and went back over the words twice.
“So it’s true,” he said, as he returned the page to Miriam.
“That’s what it says.”
“Maybe she doesn’t know.”
“You just trying to protect her?”
“Don’t think so,” Isaac said. “I just want to be fair.”
Miriam nodded. “We should be. It’s very possible she doesn’t know.”
“Would Emma just do this out of the blue? There has to be some connection somewhere.”
“Now you’re doubting Rebecca.”
“Maybe, yet we have no reason to.”
“No, we don’t,” Miriam agreed. “She has always behaved herself above suspicion.”
“Should we tell John?”
“Maybe.” Miriam sounded noncommitted. “You think he can handle it?”
“He’s better at those things since the accident.”
“It matured him,” Miriam agreed.
Isaac walked over to the stair door and opened it. “John,” he called, “come down here for a minute.”
He waited until John’s door opened, the light from the room flooding the hallway. Isaac, now that he knew John would come, walked back to his rocking chair and sat down.
“Yes,” John said, sticking his head through the doorway, “you called.”
“Sit down,” Isaac said. “You need to read this.”
John raised his eyebrows. He wondered what could be in The Budget that required such urgent reading. If someone had died, his parents would simply tell him. If other reasons existed, they were beyond him. The Budget normally didn’t contain any great secrets begging for special attention or that required reading in the presence of parents.
Isaac pointed with his finger toward the heading of Milroy, Indiana. “It concerns Rebecca,” he said simply. He now had John’s full attention.
John read quickly, yet he hardly believed what he read. “There must be some mistake,” he said, the paper drooping in his hands.
“Probably not,” Isaac told him. “There might be a reason, though. Rebecca might not know.”
“Why is it in here then?” John asked. “It doesn’t make any sense.”
“I don’t know,” Isaac told him.
“Maybe John ought to look into it,” Miriam suggested.
Isaac shook his head. “Don’t push him. This is hard enough. There may be a simple explanation.”
“There may not be,” Miriam said. John stood and stared out the window and into the darkness.
“I’d better go over,” he said, a great weariness filling his voice.
“Surely it can wait,” Miriam stated. “You’ll see her at the youth gathering. There is one this week, isn’t there?”
John nodded. “There is. This thing will be all over the place by then. I’d better know first. Aden might even ask.”
“You shouldn’t doubt her,” Isaac said, as John went to get his coat and shoes.
“I don’t,” John said. “We just need to talk.”
“Poor boy,” Miriam said, as he went out the door.
“Poor girl too,” Isaac added. “Seems like they’ve been through enough.”
“Maybe it’s not a big deal.”
“Perhaps,” Isaac said but didn’t sound too convinced.
Rachel sat at the living room desk, her hands busy with another letter. Reuben saw her when he glanced up from his section of The Budget, the part he had left to read. He then scanned the room, searching for the rest of the paper. On the other end of the couch, he caught sight of it. When he went to pick it up, he thought to ask Rachel what she had written but changed his mind.
When she finished the letter, Reuben saw her sign her name, seal the envelope, put a stamp on it, and set the letter on the desk. He dared to catch a look at the address as he went to bed. The letter was addressed to West Union, Ohio. The recipient’s name was covered by a book.
CHAPTER TWELVE
As he hitched up his driving horse, John felt a great sorrow sweep over him. Perhaps, he thought, it was the lateness of the evening. Perhaps his body rebelled against the drive after a hard day’s work. He knew, though, it wasn’t either of those reasons. The memories of another drive he had made at night haunted him. Then too he had left in haste. Would this one also end in tragedy?
John told himself it wouldn’t. This time he wouldn’t drive to Rebecca’s place in fear with doubts running through his mind, causing his whole body to hurt. He would go because he loved and trusted her and needed to stop this before it got any worse. That it could get worse, he was sure of. He only had to remember his parents’ faces to know the answer.
He got in the buggy and urged his horse on. They drove down the long slope of Wheat Ridge toward the town of Unity. When he passed his place on the right, he gave it only a quick glance—not quick because little could be seen of the house in the dark, but quick because he thought the fear could rush in. The fear might come in like a lion if he even thought of what all might be at stake.
The noise from the clattering of his horse’s hooves crossing the Harshville covered bridge disturbed him for some reason. The peeping of the frogs and songs of the night birds suddenly became silent. Although the racket was amplified in the still night air, it was not unusual nor any louder than normal, heard a hundred times before when he drove across the bridge. Yet the occurrence seemed ominous, threatening, a foreboding of danger to come.
John shook his head and slapped the reins. The horse jerked forward, then slowed back to its steady pace. We’ll make it, he told himself. We have been through so much already. God will not forget us. There is a reason for all of this.
He felt a calm come over him and found the Keim driveway easily. The pull of the reins came too quickly, and the buggy bounced, as it hit the side of the culvert. John pulled left sharply and missed the bump with his back wheel. He shook his head again. At the barn he found his usual place to tie the horse. Since he had no plans to stay long, he didn’t unhitch the buggy.
A light burned brightly in the living room, two of them he was sure because he heard the loud hissing sound of the lamps. He knocked on the door. There was a pause in which he felt a moment of hesitation and the possibility of a returning fear, but he gathered himself together.
Mattie opened the door, her eyes hesitant as they adjusted to the darkness.
“Good evening,” John said, so she would hear his voice.
“John…well…come in.” Mattie opened the door wide, her smile genuine. “What a surprise.”
“Hope he’s not bringing trouble,” Lester said, seated on his recliner, a farm magazine in his hand.
“What a thing to say,” Mattie scolded. “He never brings trouble.”
Lester chuckled. “Have a seat. Rebecca’s upstairs.”
Mattie was already at the steps, calling to her daughter, “Rebecca, John’s here.”
There was a general bang of doors and a few thumps, about which Lester chuckled again. “The children are all there. Guess they thought you were going up.”
“Do you want to?” Mattie asked hesitating, her hand still on the door.
John thought for a moment, then decided he didn’t. This matter need
ed to be discussed in front of Lester and Mattie. Rebecca had nothing to hide, he was certain. Any conversation with Rebecca would have to be repeated to her parents, and the second time around might be no easier than the first.
“No.” He shook his head and took a seat on the couch.
Lester looked ready to say something but paused at the sound of soft steps coming down the stairs. Rebecca appeared, her smile—genuine as John had expected—was unable to disguise her surprise. His eyes found hers. He felt pleasure rise in his chest, even though he knew what his mission was.
“I wasn’t expecting you,” Rebecca said and took the seat beside him.
“I wasn’t expecting to come over either,” he told her. “Something came up unexpectedly.”
For a moment a shadow crossed her face, but then the smile returned.
“Mighty urgent like,” Lester offered. He bent to set the magazine on the floor.
For the first time, John noticed The Budget beside the couch. The irony of it struck him. He offered a smile, sure his lips were tense and contorting his face. “It’s about something in what’s on the floor there,” he offered.
“The Budget?” Lester asked. He laughed heartily. “You came all the way over to talk about The Budget?”
John nodded solemnly. “It’s in the Milroy section.”
“My…we are mysterious,” Lester said. He stood, walked over to the couch, and picked up The Budget. Lester sat back down and turned to the correct page.
“Milroy?” Rebecca asked John from beside him.
“Yes,” John said. He searched her eyes for any indication she knew but saw nothing, only puzzlement.
“I just came from there. Emma’s funeral. Has something terrible happened?”
“You would think so,” John said nodding.
“Your parents were there too,” Rebecca offered.
“I know,” John said and glanced at Lester, who seemed intent on what he had in front of him. Apparently he had found the page.
“I don’t believe this,” he said a little louder than John expected. “You know anything about this, Rebecca?”
“About what?” Rebecca answered, turning in his direction.
“Mattie, come look at this.” Lester motioned toward his wife, ignoring Rebecca’s startled look.
Mattie went over and read silently. “That’s mighty strange. Did you know this was coming?” she asked glancing toward Rebecca.
“Would someone tell me what’s going on?” Rebecca’s alarm was evident in her voice.
“It’s not your fault,” John said. “We just need to talk about it,” John continued but wasn’t sure she heard him.
Rebecca got up, took the section her father held out to her, and read the article. The page dropped to the floor. John saw her face register stunned disbelief as she turned in his direction.
“It’s okay,” he said and got up. “Really, it is. I just thought we should talk about it.”
“Is it true?” Rebecca asked. “Is someone playing a joke?”
“I’m afraid not.” Lester’s face was stern. “Not if it’s in here. Do you want to tell us about this?”
“There is nothing to tell.” Rebecca sat back on the couch, and John followed.
“You didn’t know anything about this?” Lester’s voice was tense, his expression puzzled.
Rebecca shook her head.
“You did see Emma when you went to Milroy to help Leona with the baby, right?”
“Yes.” John could see Rebecca meet her father’s eyes.
“Did Emma say anything about leaving you money? About marrying Amish?”
Rebecca shook her head. Quickly, John thought, which confirmed his confidence in her.
“Did you talk about John? About Atlee?”
“Yes,” Rebecca said, letting her gaze drop to the floor, “I asked her advice. She told me some good things.”
“Nothing about money? For…” Lester said, almost choking on the words, “marrying someone?”
“No,” Rebecca replied, her voice angry now. “You surely don’t think I would?” She looked around the room.
“Of course not,” Mattie said quickly. “I’m sure you didn’t.”
“I already said it’s not your fault,” John added.
Lester seemed to ponder the question. “Mighty strange,” he finally said. “Embarrassing too. That’s the worse, I guess. Even if it was true.”
“It’s not true,” Rebecca said, her voice sharp, “that I would marry for money or know I’m getting any.”
“I believe you,” Lester said, his voice calm now. “Just asking. Better that way than wondering. It could still be true you are named in the will.”
Rebecca turned to John and seemed to see him again. “Do you believe it? That I would marry you for money?”
“No,” he said. “I came over to warn you. Thought we should talk about it.”
“Really?” Her eyes searched his face.
“Really,” he said, and she seemed satisfied.
Silence descended on the room. The only sound heard was a thump or two from upstairs.
“You think Rebecca is getting money?” Mattie asked.
“If she marries John.” Lester let a grin cross his face. “From the sounds of it.”
“Now isn’t that a surprise. Emma left you something,” Mattie said, “even if you didn’t expect it.”
“I don’t like it,” Rebecca said. “Just don’t. Something’s wrong about the whole thing. Something is really wrong.”
“Now don’t turn down good money—not when it lands on your doorstep,” Lester told her. “It might come in handy. A few thousand doesn’t go far, but it might help a young couple just starting up.”
Rebecca shook her head.
“It sounds like more than a little,” Mattie offered.
Lester found the paper again and scanned the article. “I guess it does. What do you think, John?”
“Rebecca has nothing to do with it. Of that I’m sure,” he said. “Beyond that I don’t care. I hope to provide for my own family. Hopefully she’ll be satisfied with that.”
Lester’s chuckle told John he took the joke well. Rebecca rolled her eyes at him but managed to smile a little.
“It’ll all blow over,” Lester said confidently. “People will forget all about this next week. More troubles. More houses burned down. More people got married. It’ll all be over. I wouldn’t worry.”
“I’m glad someone feels so,” Rebecca said sighing. “There’s something fishy going on. That’s all I can say.”
“Your father knows what he’s talking about,” Mattie assured her.
“I suppose he does,” Rebecca allowed.
“Are you going to go to Milroy for the money?” Mattie asked Rebecca.
Before Rebecca could answer, Lester said, “No. If she’s got money coming, they will find her. The English are probably involved—with a will and all that. Just let it go.”
“I will, Dad,” Rebecca said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“I have to be leaving,” John said and got up. “Really. I have work tomorrow.”
“Don’t we all. Good you came over,” Lester said from his recliner. “Right smart young man, there.”
John felt warm inside and nodded his acknowledgment in Lester’s direction. He hoped Rebecca would follow him outside, and she did. Together they walked to his buggy.
“It was nice of you to come,” she told him. “Like Dad said, it was wise too.”
“Maybe I’ve learned,” he allowed. “I’m trying.”
“You didn’t doubt me, did you?” she asked still questioning.
“Dear,” he said and let his voice carry the emotion he felt. His hands found hers in the dark. “You would never marry me for money. I never doubted that.”
“That’s nice of you.” Her fingers tightened around his. “Did you think I knew anything of the will?”
“No,” he said, speaking without hesitation, “you didn’t know.”
The horse sneezed violently behind them and broke the moment. John said chuckling, “My horse is trying to help us.”
“I know,” she said. Rebecca let go of his hands and slipped away from him. He watched her go, her form highlighted in the glow of the gas lantern from the living room window. When the front door closed, he untied his horse, held the reins tight, and got into the buggy.
When he unhitched at home, Miriam and Isaac were still up. They had obviously waited for him.
“Problem solved?” Isaac asked, not looking up from what he was reading.
“She didn’t know anything,” John said.
“Talk to her? By yourself?” Isaac asked.
“A little. After talking to her with Mattie and Lester.”
“That’s good. There’s a better chance for a straight answer with Mom and Dad around,” Isaac told him.
“You don’t expect trouble?” John asked.
“Of course not,” Miriam said, while Isaac only shrugged.
“Guess not. Just with what’s in there,” he said and pointed toward a page of The Budget on the floor.
“She didn’t do anything wrong,” John told them. “If Emma left her money, that would have been Emma’s idea for who knows what reasons. Old maids are strange sometimes. Maybe she hated men. Maybe someone broke her heart. Maybe she didn’t like Mennonites.”
“That’s a mouthful,” Isaac replied.
“I’m sorry,” John said. “Rebecca isn’t to blame.”
“Will Rebecca get the money?” Isaac asked.
“I don’t know. She doesn’t care.”
“That’s good.” Isaac nodded. “Real good. Hope this thing will just blow over.”
“It will,” John said. He walked toward the upstairs door and opened it.
“One would hope so,” Isaac said, as John shut the door behind him.
“You shouldn’t be so hard on him,” Miriam said when the sound of footsteps on the hardwood steps had stopped.