Rebecca's Bouquet

by Lisa Jones Baker

  He hadn’t missed the look of disapproval on Rebecca’s face when Natalie had talked with him. And he’d taken note of the unusually terse conversation between him and Rebecca following Natalie’s departure.

  But William couldn’t ignore Henry Kreggs’s daughter. They were his dad’s biggest clients, and their recommendation to others was important. A huge part of the business was word-of-mouth.

  Even so, Natalie wasn’t high on his priority list. The more William considered the offer to become a partner, the more he wanted it. At the same time, he dreamed of marrying Rebecca and making her the happiest woman in the world. But he knew Rebecca’s heart.

  She was his soul mate. However, for the first time in his life, there was something he couldn’t discuss with her. His father’s offer. As soon as he’d mentioned it, the disappointed, concerned look on her face had told him everything he’d needed to know.

  Of course Rebecca didn’t want to settle down in Indiana. And no one could have predicted his father would have suffered a second heart attack and that William would make so many new decisions on his own. He couldn’t ask Beth to take on more responsibility than she already had.

  As he glanced behind him, he considered the huge decision riding on his shoulders. He knew Rebecca didn’t want to hear about the offer again. And he couldn’t bring it up. Because he was in a no-win situation. If he accepted, Rebecca suffered. If he didn’t, he’d let his dad down. Himself, too.

  He rolled his shoulders to rid them of tension. He didn’t like keeping things from her. But how could he discuss the partnership with her if she didn’t want it?

  As he dumped the pile of sawdust into the garbage, Rebecca’s voice startled him. “I’m making your favorite dinner tonight.” She paused and darted him a proud smile. “Chicken and dumplings.”

  He turned to her. “You’re an angel.”

  She stepped closer. When she raised her chin, their gazes locked. The warmth in her eyes emanated like a soft blanket on a cold winter’s night. The reassurance in her voice eased his tension. “Anything for you.”

  “You never cease to amaze me. How do you manage to cook dinner and work in the shop?”

  “I boiled the chicken early this morning. The noodles are dry. All I have to do is throw everything in a pan of boiling water.” She winked. “It’s all about organization.”

  He laughed. “Multitasking?”

  She nodded. “You said it.”

  As he looked at her, guilt filled his chest until he thought it would burst.

  She deserved his best. How he yearned to promise her everything she wanted. But how could he? His own dream conflicted with the idyllic life Rebecca wanted.

  Her brows drew together in a sudden frown. She lowered her voice. “Something’s bothering you, William Conrad. Tell me what it is.”

  “I’m tired. And worried about Dad.”

  He was quick to notice the skeptical look she darted at him.

  “Is that all?”

  Rebecca knew him too well. It was impossible to hide things from her. And he didn’t want to. It was just that this time …

  She took his arm in hers. “Let’s wash up. A good dinner will make you feel better.”

  He agreed. How he wished chicken and dumplings would solve his problems. But his situation wouldn’t be easily fixed. And there was no perfect solution. So, he’d have to give up his dream. Or sacrifice Rebecca’s. Which would it be?

  *

  When Rebecca opened the mailbox and glimpsed the envelope from Sam, a happy grin tugged at her lips. She’d only mailed his letter five days ago. Without wasting time, she closed the mailbox and set the pile of mail on the rocky ground. Letter in hand, she made herself comfortable on the decorative rock beside her. She tore open the envelope and unfolded the letter.

  Beth pulled into the drive and waved. Rebecca returned the gesture. She tapped her foot to a nervous beat while she skimmed the neat black writing that lined the page.

  Dear Rebecca, It’s good to hear from you. I enjoyed your note and am happy you’re doing well. Your parents miss you. But no need to worry about me. With Annie around, I’ll never go hungry. She’s keeping me well fed with her sponge cakes. And Rachel still listens to my horse-and-buggy stories. I’ve been giving special thought to your concern about William.

  Rebecca’s heart picked up speed as she pulled the paper closer to her chest.

  You’re a very perceptive girl. But I’m afraid that a decision of this nature will have to be made from your own heart. I’m a wise old man. But your destiny is something that no one can decide but you.

  It appears that William enjoys the English amenities, Rebecca, as many Amish youngsters do while exploring Rumspringa. But realize that leaving the faith is very different from expressing a liking for a new and exciting way of life.

  Rebecca paused and considered the statement. As always, Old Sam was right. The thought that perhaps William was merely enjoying a temporary privilege prompted a new spark of hope within her. She adjusted her position on the rock and read on.

  William loves you. Love is stronger than any problem I’ve yet to encounter. I have no doubt that the two of you will work this out together. Be strong, Rebecca. Remember that “courage is fear that has said its prayers.”

  Old Sam

  Pensive, Rebecca gazed at the words in front of her, but her mind was on William. She barely heard the hammering sounds coming from the shop. Or the humming of the electric saws penetrating the oak.

  The pleasant aroma of freshly cut grass filled the air. The scent reminded her of home … and of Old Sam’s words of wisdom. Even though it was obvious that he wanted her to make her own choice, he had given her something to think about. His point about Rumspringa was correct.

  Perhaps William was merely taking advantage of this short-lived freedom. Rebecca pulled in a deep, hopeful breath.

  At that moment, he appeared in the distance. As he raised a hand, he hollered, “I need your input.”

  In response, she gave a firm nod. He turned and stepped toward the shop. But she stayed put for a few blissful moments while hope spread through her.

  When she considered the circumstances, was it really wrong for William to enjoy the ESPN channel? Or air-conditioning? He had come to Indiana with a goal. He’d had good intentions. Deep down inside, she believed his roots would eventually overcome the temptation to become English.

  She returned the letter to its envelope. Bending, she gathered the remaining mail and stood to make her way to the house, where she would lay the bundle on the table before returning to the shop.

  Old Sam’s letter had been a blessing. A renewed hope stirred within her, wrestling with her doubts until she was convinced everything would be okay.

  *

  The next evening, William walked beside Rebecca down the trail behind the Conrad property. Both wore blue jeans. William had left his hat in the house. The jeans and loose T-shirt felt comfortable against his skin. The metal pail in his hand swung back and forth with his gait.

  The warm breeze caressed the back of his neck. He smiled at Rebecca. “There’s something you should know.”

  “Jah?”

  “You look mighty fine in blue jeans.”

  She laughed a little. “Thank you. They’re comfy. It was nice of Beth to lend them to me, even though I feel a bit on the rebellious side.”

  “You shouldn’t.” He cocked a brow. “It is Rumspringa.”

  “True. And I’ve been dying to try them.”

  “This is the only time it’s okay to do English things. You wouldn’t want to waste the opportunity, would you?”

  “I guess not.”

  “If this is the most rebellious thing you ever do, I think God will forgive you.”

  She cleared her throat. “William, do you mind if I ask you something?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Do I look as good in jeans as Natalie?”

  The question prompted a laugh. “That’s the last thing I expe
cted to hear.”

  “But do I?”

  William’s voice was firm. “Natalie could never hold a candle to you.”

  Rebecca grinned as she nudged his elbow.

  Rebecca stepped over a tree stump.

  “I even confessed my desire to wear jeans to Katie.”

  “You did?”

  Rebecca nodded.

  “What did she say?”

  Rebecca gave a casual shrug of her shoulders. “That I should try them. And … that she had even driven a car.”

  “Good for her. That’s next on my list.”

  Rebecca stopped a moment to run her hands down her thighs.

  “Something wrong?”

  “No. I’m just not used to slacks. But no complaints. How does that T-shirt feel?”

  “I could wear it every day.”

  “It wouldn’t be hard to make me put these on again.”

  “Then will you?”

  Rebecca hesitated. “I doubt it.”

  “Why not, if they feel right?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Because I’m who I am in my dress and kapp. You know me, William. Rebecca Sommer belongs in her Amish attire.” She sighed. “I suppose I’m too much of a creature of habit to change.”

  The statement prompted William to think. What she said was very true. Rebecca’s upbringing was more engrained in her than anyone he knew. And during the month they’d spent here, he’d clearly seen that she hadn’t been tempted by the English ways like he was.

  As he glanced at her, he saw a stubbornness that wouldn’t allow her to change even if she wanted to. In many ways, he wished that he was as strong in his beliefs as she was in hers. He kept his thoughts to himself, though.

  There was enough conflict between them already, and it wouldn’t behoove either one of them to focus on their differences. Especially with the business offer weighing heavily on his mind. He deliberately changed the subject.

  “I hope we can find those raspberry bushes Beth talked about.”

  Rebecca smiled a little as she walked at his side. “I have an eye for raspberries. In a few hours, I’ll be baking pies for Daniel in Beth’s wonderful double oven.” She giggled. “And unlike Martha Wagler, I’ll add sugar!”

  They laughed.

  Several steps later, William looked ahead and took a deep, satisfied breath. So many things flitted through his mind as the sun flooded the sky with a mixture of colors that seemed to morph into one shade: Daniel’s condition. The shop. The offer. What William would do if his father didn’t recover.

  He shrugged his shoulders to rid himself of the cumbersome worries. “It feels good to be outside, doesn’t it?”

  Rebecca nodded. “July’s my favorite month. There’s something so comforting about the middle of summer. Old Sam always says that there’s nothing like a warm day to soothe the soul. As usual, he’s right.”

  William arched an inquisitive brow. “Does your soul need soothing?”

  He noted a slight hesitation and frowned. Of course, she was going through difficult times of her own. And he was to blame. He had burdened her with Daniel’s offer. And now Rebecca carried that burden on her own shoulders. William didn’t deny that this offer had put a barrier between them. Yet, he felt the need to get it out in the open, hoping Rebecca would be able to offer advice as wise as Old Sam’s.

  But it was a dilemma without an easy solution. He wanted to erase the tension between them. But how?

  She stepped into a dip in the ground and lost her balance.

  He was quick to steady her. “Whoa. Are you okay?”

  She laughed a little as she stopped and rubbed her ankle. She motioned to the ground. “I didn’t see that coming.”

  As they continued their walk, William took in the beauty of the tall, leafy trees. They created in him an inner peace amid the turmoil he faced.

  He lowered his voice so as not to disturb the silence. “It’s beautiful property, isn’t it?”

  She nodded. In a soft tone, she responded, “Everything is lovely.” She threw her hands in the air. “The land. The house. The kitchen. All of the rooms. I understand why Beth loves it here.”

  Rebecca’s positive reply prompted a brave response. “Wouldn’t you like to live here?”

  From his peripheral vision, William noted the quick downturn of Rebecca’s lips. Yet, he was glad he’d finally broached her with the question. Because it had been on his mind for some time.

  “There’s something missing.”

  They slowed their pace. He raised a curious brow. “Missing?”

  “Jah. For me, anyway.”

  A long silence ensued while they continued down the hill. In the distance, the creek made a gurgling sound. The pleasant chirping of birds filled the air. A woodpecker attacked an oak tree. The sound echoed through the woods.

  William waited for Rebecca to continue what she had started to say. When she didn’t, he pressed the subject. He wanted to make sure she was at ease. And why wouldn’t she be? The English life offered every comfort a person could ask for.

  “Tell me what’s missing.”

  She glanced up at the sky as she appeared to consider his question. “To be honest, as much as I love Beth and Daniel, I think what isn’t here that’s in Arthur is a kind of homespun goodness.”

  He laughed at the expression on her face when she said those two words.

  “Homespun goodness? And what’s that supposed to mean?”

  She stopped to catch her breath. So did he. They glanced in the distance. An uneasy chill swept up William’s back.

  She turned to him and met his gaze. As they looked at each other, he swallowed. The reflection of the sun setting in the west highlighted some strands of Rebecca’s hair.

  He knew he would never tire of her large, beautiful eyes that always reflected goodness and kindness. He loved the rosy glow that colored her cheeks when she was outdoors. And her smile made his heart pick up its pace.

  They were so close, he could feel the warmth of her breath. “Homespun goodness is like when Mamma hangs towels on the clothesline to dry, and the fresh smell fills the air. It’s the sweet smell of butter while she stirs it in the crock. And the feeling I get when I walk into the kitchen to see her making cinnamon bread.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Just listen to me rattle on.”

  William swallowed. A combination of sadness and longing filled his chest and created a dull ache. For a moment, he was reminded of that wonderful sensation that passed through his veins when he would step into Aenti Sarah’s kitchen and see her taking butterscotch pies from her gas oven.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to complain. Sometimes, I think it’s the things so familiar to me that make me miss home.”

  “No apologies necessary. Sometimes I feel the same way.”

  “You do?”

  He was quick to note her hopeful tone. “Of course. Don’t you think I miss chatting with Aentie Sarah while she cooks?”

  Rebecca nodded.

  “And I miss hearing Uncle John grumble.”

  William looked down at his shoes a moment. When he lifted his gaze, he said, “I wish Dad lived in Arthur.”

  “He doesn’t, William. And I don’t think he ever will.”

  “I’m torn, Rebecca.” He turned away. An unfamiliar emotion tugged at his heart.

  She stepped in front of him. “I understand.”

  “It would have been better for both of us if Dad hadn’t asked me to work with him. And it would have been best if I hadn’t come here.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I was exposed to a way of life that’s prohibited to me.”

  William closed his eyes a moment. It felt good to admit his feelings. At the same time, the realization prompted huge regret.

  “But it happened, William. And you’ll make the right decisions. Keep praying.”

  In silence, they started walking again.

  “There they are!” She pointed to the bushes.

  The enthusiasm in Reb
ecca’s voice was a pleasant contrast to the solemn thoughts in William’s head. He smiled. “Looks like there are enough berries for ten pies.”

  Together, they knelt in front of the bushes and began picking, sharing the bucket between them. It wasn’t long before the large metal pail was full.

  As they began to make their way back to the house, their elbows brushed. A smile tugged at William’s lips. He was so lucky to have Rebecca.

  He was also fortunate that his father thought enough of him to invite him to become his business partner. He wanted both.

  *

  In her room that evening, Rebecca once again thought about the three goals for the bishop. She had one. Outside, coyotes yelped. The screeching sound created an eerie tingle that sprinted up Rebecca’s back and landed in her shoulders. She rolled them to rid herself of the unwanted sensation.

  She yawned and pulled her scripture book from the hope chest. Rebecca stretched her legs in bed and rested her head on two pillows. She changed positions, but couldn’t get comfortable. She continued to cross and uncross her legs and shift her weight from hip to hip.

  She squeezed her eyes closed a moment and tried to convince herself everything would be okay. When she opened her lids, she shook her head in despair.

  Before coming here, she had expected their stay to strengthen her bond with William. But to her dismay, outside circumstances pulled them in opposite directions.

  She opened her prayer book to the marked page. The scripture in front of her was from the Psalms. Rebecca loved the Psalms. The passages comforted and reassured.

  The deep need for scripture filled her while she read the passage out loud. “‘I lift up my eyes to the hills—where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth. He will not let your foot slip—he who watches over you will not slumber … The Lord watches over you—The Lord is your shade at your right hand; the sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night. The Lord will keep you from all harm—he will watch over your life; the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.’”