Rebecca's Return (The Adams County Trilogy 2)

by Jerry S. Eicher

  “Yes,” he said with resignation.

  “You need to talk to him.”

  “The bishop hasn’t been told,” Reuben countered.

  “He doesn’t have to be,” she told him firmly. “You know the rules. Anyone can turn in a complaint.”

  “It’s Ezra,” Reuben said, as if that explained everything. “I’m not going without asking Bishop Mose first.”

  “You know what’s going to happen then.” Rachel glared at him.

  “I suppose,” he allowed. “Maybe Mose will talk to him privately.”

  “Like that will do any good.” She tried to bring her anger under control. “He’ll just talk to him. Nothing will be done.”

  “That’s up to Mose.” Reuben was staying tightly in his refuge, then ventured out with something Rachel didn’t expect. “Why are you so interested in this all of a sudden?”

  Knowing she had to say something, she pulled her trump card. “Reuben, I’m with child.”

  He stared at her, his pancakes forgotten. “A child?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “After all these years?”

  “Yes,” she repeated, glancing at Luke, wishing this was not being discussed in front of him.

  Luke was eating his eggs and pancakes, his eyes on his plate, saying nothing.

  “Da Hah sei lobhdt,” Reuben pronounced, a smile spreading across his face again. “The fruit of the womb is a blessing from heaven. Da Hah has seen fit to visit us again…and that in our old age.”

  “Yes,” Rachel said, not wanting to dampen his feelings, though she doubted now whether this would help her mission much. At least her husband would no longer question her motives.

  “So,” Reuben pronounced, understanding spreading across his face. Her newfound concern for church rules is connected to the desire for the spiritual welfare of this child. “You are with child,” he said reverently, remembering his pancakes again.

  She could almost see his feelings about himself grow before her eyes. He would again have a child to take to church, to sit on the preacher’s bench with. Even if it turned out to be a girl, she knew he would take her.

  There would be cleansing for him with this child. Her barrenness had been the will of the Almighty, and it had reflected on him as a leader of the church. Unable to produce offspring, he had felt diminished and set back from the other ministers with their benches full of little ones.

  “You are no longer childless. Da Hah’s blessing has returned.”

  Rachel glanced at Luke, wishing Reuben would quit his outburst. She felt embarrassed in front of Luke. She wondered why he wasn’t embarrassed.

  “I’ll talk to Ezra,” Reuben said so suddenly, it startled her.

  “Really?” She couldn’t keep the pleasure out of her voice.

  “For the child’s sake,” he said. “It will be for the future of the church—for him.”

  For her, she felt like adding but restrained herself. He would accept a girl too, she knew. It was just his way of saying it.

  “This afternoon,” he said, as if arriving at a firm conclusion. “You’ll need to go to town this morning,” he spoke in Luke’s direction.

  Luke nodded his head.

  “We need a couple bags of oats for the horses. Co-op in Rushville would be best.”

  “How much have we left?” Luke asked, speaking his first words all morning.

  “Not but a half bag.”

  “Kind of expensive right now,” Luke commented. “Was cheaper in September.”

  “Yah,” Reuben said, nodding, “I didn’t have enough money to stock up then. We’ll just have to buy it as we need to.”

  Luke nodded again. Reuben then got up, breakfast over. As Luke followed him outside, Rachel kept her anger in check. Why had the man not purchased enough feed in September? Even Luke seemed to know enough to do that. She bit her tongue to keep from speaking aloud.

  No sense in upsetting the applecart now, besides she had her day’s work cut out with baking. There was another batch of bread to be made. Then there was the child to consider. Who knew how the time of carrying would go. Luke had caused disturbances only in the morning, as this one seemed to be doing, but one never knew.

  She sighed, gathering up the loaf of bread she had worked so hard on yesterday, preparing it for disposal as soon as both Luke and Reuben were out of the way. The flour, she decided, would go to the chickens.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  At the Keim breakfast table, Rebecca was happily taking in the sights and sounds of home. Her thoughts, at the moment, distracted from thinking about John or her upcoming planned Sunday with him. She hated keeping thoughts of John at bay but figured it was not entirely her fault. John had not behaved the best last night.

  “Mom cooks real good when someone’s come home,” Lester pronounced for all of them to hear, as he took another biscuit, poured creamy white gravy on it, and then gazed rapturously at the sight.

  “Mom’s always good,” Matthew spoke up.

  “You just want to come back from somewhere so you get some attention,” Katie told him.

  “He’s got to leave first,” Viola said, sharing a look with her sister.

  “I’m leaving as soon as I can.” Matthew made a face at both of them.

  “No kann nimmand uns foahra,” Ada, the seven-year-old, said with concern about the possibility of losing their driver if Matthew were to leave.

  “She means to school.” Katie supplied the interpretation, glaring at Matthew.

  “Now…now.” Lester let his voice remain mellow as he took charge. “Matthew’s not going anywhere.”

  “Goot,” Ada proclaimed, slicing her egg in half.

  “Someday?” Matthew dared ask.

  “Maybe.” Lester qualified his statement.

  “Only in Gottes villa,” Mattie said quickly.

  “Yes—only that way,” Lester agreed.

  “What is Gottes villa?” Matthew asked.

  “That’s God’s will for you—Dat,” Mattie said, getting up to leave the table for more biscuits, the supply getting low. She stepped toward the oven where more were being kept, lest they cool off too quickly.

  Lester cleared his throat. “The book,” he said, nodding toward the living room where they all knew the family Bible was kept, “that first—then the council of the church. With those two, you will be kept safe.”

  Rebecca wondered if she dared, then decided she would by saying, “The English say we must go by our own judgment too.”

  “That’s the English,” was her father’s only response.

  “You can do better than that,” Mattie said, from over by the oven.

  “It’s not us,” he said, more curtly than usual.

  “I wasn’t trying to make trouble,” Rebecca said quickly, sorry she had brought it up. Discomfort around the family table was one of the last things she wanted at the moment.

  Her father seemed to ignore the remark, making her think he was more upset than she had imagined. Visions of John from last night flashed in front of her eyes, but this was not John. Lester had never spoken to her with such anger.

  Apparently having found the answer he was looking for, Lester said slowly, “We are different. Yes, we think our judgment ought to be used but only to decide if we are understanding the Word correctly.” He played with his spoon and continued, “Also to decide if the church is teaching the Word. But,” he said, laying his spoon down, “not to decide our own rules. That is where we are different.”

  Breaking into the conversation, Mattie, who was standing at the window, asked, “I wonder why Esther’s here.”

  “I wonder what she wants,” Matthew asked.

  Mattie went to the front door to meet Esther. A moment later, the family heard a muffled greeting and then silence as the front door shut.

  “They went outside,” Katie stated the obvious.

  “Why can’t Mom talk inside?” Viola asked.

  “Sh. They probably have woman things to talk about
,” Lester told them.

  “What are woman things?” Viola continued.

  “You don’t want to know,” Matthew said. “It’s trouble.”

  Glancing at her father, who seemed at a loss with what to say, Rebecca helped him out. “Maybe someone had a baby and…” Rebecca said and then hesitated herself, “they might be having trouble.”

  “It’s always trouble,” Matthew muttered, his mouth full of egg and biscuit.

  “Did you have trouble—with baby Jonathon—in Milroy?” Viola asked.

  “She likes babies,” Matthew chuckled.

  “Yes,” Rebecca replied, smiling, “I do—but there was no trouble with Jonathon.” Yet her mind flashed back to that evening and night of the birth. There easily could have been, and it also easily could be what the two women outside on the front yard were talking about.

  They heard the front door open again, followed by Mattie’s quick steps across the living room. She stopped in the kitchen opening, her face drawn. “Rebecca,” she said, in a strained voice, “come outside.”

  “Is something wrong?” Rebecca asked, rising from her chair. Everyone around the table was looking at her, surprise on their faces. Rebecca felt a sudden fear grip her.

  “Just come,” Mattie told her.

  “Trouble,” Matthew said ominously, as the door opened and shut again.

  “Be quiet,” Lester told them one and all. “Finish your breakfast. It could be anything. Mom will tell us when it’s time.”

  “I want to know now,” Viola protested.

  “Just eat,” Lester told her, as silence settled on the room, except for the sound of their eating.

  Outside Esther was standing by her buggy, her head bowed. Mattie hadn’t said a word since leaving the kitchen, walking briskly in front of Rebecca.

  “Rebecca, it’s John,” Esther said, her eyes rising to Rebecca’s face.

  Rebecca felt herself go cold. “What is it? What about John?”

  “He’s in the hospital,” Esther said. “He has a fractured skull. Aden thought I should come tell you.”

  “What happened?” Rebecca asked, still cold from the news. “How is he?”

  “Someone hit him while he was driving his buggy. The horse made it home on its own.” Esther was saying, hesitation in her voice. “He was coming home from here—we think.”

  “Did they find the person?” It was the next question that came to Rebecca’s mind, sounding inappropriate to ask, but everything felt inappropriate at the moment.

  “No.” Esther shook her head. “It must have been a hit-and-run. He hasn’t recovered consciousness yet—at least that we’ve heard.”

  “He’s in West Union,” Mattie volunteered. “I’ll take you down as soon as we can.”

  “He was going home from here,” Rebecca said, noticing that her hands were shaking.

  “Nearest we can figure.” Esther’s voice sounded strained.

  “I see,” Rebecca said, wishing again last night had never happened.

  Esther looked intently at Rebecca and then to Mattie, “They didn’t break up—did they?”

  Mattie shook her head. “Just a little—well, disagreement—I think they had. Nothing serious.”

  “We all have those.” Esther smiled grimly. “All of us being human.”

  Rebecca was silent, listening, feeling detached.

  “Was he driving on the wrong side of the road?” Mattie asked, and Rebecca figured she knew why. Her mother wanted to know if maybe John had been distracted by their argument.

  “Not that I know,” Esther said, her eyes meeting Mattie’s. “The officer would have said so, I’m sure. Isaac talked to him—at least that’s what Aden said—there was no blame put on John.”

  “Do they expect him to recover?” Rebecca asked, now that the question of blame was answered.

  “I think so,” Esther told her. “Doctors are doing a CT scan this morning.”

  Rebecca nodded, still feeling a little cool flush, but calm otherwise.

  “Thanks for coming over.” Mattie was concluding the conversation. “The family’s still having breakfast.”

  “A Saturday morning.” Esther smiled for the first time.

  “Fixed a little something special for Rebecca’s first morning home.”

  “Yah,” Esther said, “I’ll be getting back now.”

  Esther climbed into the buggy, as they stepped back toward the house and gave her room to turn in the driveway.

  “Now isn’t that a shock to one’s system.” Mattie stated to no one in particular. “Looks like you two are having some big troubles already.”

  Rebecca still felt numb, like crying but not able to.

  “That wasn’t really serious last night was it?” Mattie asked, now seeming uncertain about the answers she had given.

  Not feeling like giving all the details, Rebecca told her, “John was upset, but he seemed okay. I told him we would discuss it fully Sunday night. Oh, I wish we had just talked about it right there. Now he’s in the hospital.”

  “Did he think you were quitting him?”

  “Not that I know of. I certainly wasn’t.”

  “Did you give him that impression?”

  Rebecca shook her head. “I didn’t think it or show it,” Rebecca stated simply, meeting her mother’s eyes.

  “The officer said it wasn’t John’s fault,” Mattie replied, sounding more like she was trying to convince herself than anyone else. “We’d better get inside and let the others know.”

  Walking back in, Mattie went first, took her seat at the kitchen table again, and then said, “Esther brought the news that John was hurt last night in a buggy accident. He’s in the hospital.” She then turned back to the care of her family. “This gravy’s good and cold now, isn’t it?”

  “How bad is he hurt?” Lester asked.

  “Unconscious, but they have good hopes for him.”

  “You’ll be taking Rebecca down?” Lester asked next, the last of his breakfast already done and scraped off his plate.

  “As soon as I can,” Mattie told him. “You think the children will be okay while I’m gone?”

  “Should be for a Saturday,” Lester said, looking at them. “They should learn to take care of themselves, if they haven’t already. Matthew can work with me on cutting wood.”

  “Katie and Viola can do the dishes…Martha and Ada, dry them,” Mattie said, without much further explanation. “We can get going right away. Rebecca really should get down to see John.”

  “I’ll be in the living room then,” Lester told them. “When you two are done eating, we can have morning prayer.”

  As her father left, Rebecca found that none of her food would go down anymore.

  “It’s okay,” her mother told her, noticing, as she finished her own breakfast. “Let’s go in for prayers.”

  They rose to follow her, Rebecca scraping her chair on the floor. Still none of the other children were saying anything, a hush seeming to have fallen over them in the face of this unknown.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Isaac walked out of the house soon after the officer left with her husband. He thought of harnessing his horse and using it for the trip to town, disregarding Aden’s offer of a fresh horse. After considering how exhausted his horse probably was from last night, he decided to take up Aden’s offer. His own horse would likely complete the trip to West Union, doing what it was told, but there was no sense in making it suffer.

  Tomorrow was Sunday, the Lord’s day, when he would need not only a fresh horse, but a fresh conscience, clear from offense to man or beast. Even if Aden hadn’t offered, Isaac might have gone and asked, considering the rest his horse sorely needed.

  Stopping at the barn, Isaac dropped a quarter bucket of oats into the horse’s feed box and checked its hay too. The sound of the sliding oats got its attention. With a whiny, it came swiftly into the barn, halted just inside the door, and then made its way to the grain, nuzzling its nose deep into the fluffy oats.
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br />   “Hungry, eh?” Isaac asked it with a gentle chuckle. Pausing to watch the horse’s teeth working so diligently, he whispered softly, “Enjoy your oats then. I guess you’re off for the day.”

  Walking briskly up Wheat Ridge toward the Miller’s complex, Isaac’s thoughts ran back over the night’s events. How quickly things could change. Only last night John had left the house, full of life and vigor, anxious about Rebecca. Now John was lying in a hospital bed and facing an unknown future.

  It was all in the hands of God, Isaac knew. God would know what was best, yet he bowed his head from the weight of what he felt was ahead of them. Something about the way John appeared, his head swollen on the one side, made him uneasy. The doctor had seemed to be optimistic enough, but they were trained to be optimistic, he figured.

  Wishing now that he had asked the officer’s husband how fast he had been driving, Isaac regretted the missed opportunity. Perhaps it would have given him a better understanding of what lay ahead. Then remembering the scene from earlier in the morning, he was glad he had not remembered to ask.

  Such a question would have caused Andy unnecessary grief. What good would it have done anyway? It would not help John now, and trying to make himself feel better at the other’s expense didn’t really help either.

  He walked past three cars already parked in front of Miller’s Furniture, entered through the front door, and found Sharon at the front desk. “Using the phone,” he told her, his steps not slowing much.

  She nodded, her attention focused on one of the customers in the store. “Our main floor person had an accident last night,” she was saying.

  He shut the outside door and any sounds of the continuing conversation inside. Reaching for the phone, he dialed the hospital’s number that was listed in the phone book Aden kept on the shelf. It rang three times before someone answered, “Adams County Medical.”

  He gave his name and John’s name, asking to be transferred to room 201. He hoped Miriam was there to answer the phone.

  “Just a moment,” the voice said, followed by two short beeps.