by Emma Miller
Rebecca stifled a chuckle. Who would have thought that Caleb had a sense of adventure? “Now all you have to do is convince the Beachy boys and whoever else is with them to go home.”
“Oh, they’ll go home, all right,” he assured her. “One way or another, they’re going home.” Caleb urged his horse faster, cutting off the approaching buggy a good fifty yards from the house and bonfire. “Stay where you are,” he said as pulled up and jumped down from the seat.
A moment later, Rebecca heard Caleb’s voice and the subdued ones of the boys, but try as she could, she was unable to hear exactly what was being said. She was tempted to get out and walk over, despite Caleb’s warning her not to. But before she could get up the nerve, he came striding back, climbed up and turned his horse.
“Are they coming with us?” she ventured.
“What do you think?”
“Was Irwin with them?”
“Irwin, the two Beachy boys and two others. I don’t know their names, but they’re Amish.”
“They haven’t been drinking, have they?”
“Ne. Although I think those Englishers are. The boys have no alcohol or tobacco in the buggy.”
“Good.” A sense of relief swept over her. “What will you do? Will you go to their parents?”
“I will. I’d not try to keep this night’s mischief to myself. But I told the boys I’d be meeting with them to discuss the matter further and that there would be consequences from the church.”
“What will you say to them?”
Caleb sighed. “I’ll pray on it, Rebecca. God sent you to show me the way tonight. I have no doubt that He won’t abandon me when I talk with the boys later.” He laid his hand over hers and she shivered again. This time, it wasn’t from the cold. “I hope you don’t mind. I’m going to take these boys home in the Beachy buggy. I’ll follow you to your mother’s, then be on my way. I told Irwin to come up and ride home with you. I’ll come back for my buggy at your mother’s place in the morning. The Beachy boys can come for their buggy when their parents see fit.”
“Whatever you say, Caleb.” She felt a twinge of disappointment that she wouldn’t be riding home with him. She heard the shuffle of feet and saw a crestfallen Irwin appear at the side of the buggy. “Will you drive, or shall I?” she asked him.
“You best drive, Rebecca. Irwin hasn’t shown the best of judgment tonight. I’m not sure I want to trust him with your safety.”
Gathering the reins in her hands, she clicked to the horse. There wasn’t a sound from Irwin as she headed for home. Soon, the house and the noisy party were behind them and only the snowy lane lay ahead.
“I’m sorry,” Irwin began. “I didn’t...”
“Save it for Mam,” she said. “I’m too disappointed with you to talk about this tonight.”
They were almost to the main road when Rebecca heard sirens and saw the flash of lights. Her heart raced and then sunk as a Delaware State police car turned off the blacktop and came directly toward her. Shaking, she reined the horse off the center of the lane to allow them to pass.
They didn’t. The lead vehicle came to a stop beside her, and two state troopers got out. One shone a light into her face and looked at her for a moment. “Sorry to bother you, ma’am,” he said. “We’re investigating a report of trespassing and underage drinking. Where are you headed?”
“Home, with my brother.”
“You be careful, then,” the trooper instructed.
She nodded. “Have a good evening.” Then she lifted the reins and urged the horse forward.
When she looked back, however, she saw that Caleb, driving the Beachy buggy with the garish red-and-green flashing Christmas lights, hadn’t been so fortunate. The police had stopped him as well, but had not waved them on. Caleb and his passengers were climbing down onto the snowy lane, their pale faces illuminated by a glaring spotlight.
Chapter Thirteen
The following morning was cold and still, and a crust of snow crunched under the buggy wheels as Caleb drove the Beachy buggy up into the Yoder barnyard. He’d disconnected the battery so that the ridiculous red-and-green lights no longer blinked, something he wished he’d taken the time to do when he’d climbed up onto the bench seat the night before.
He’d taken down the big foam dice and removed the speakers for the boom box, but there was nothing he could do to hide the florescent orange triangles painted on each side of the carriage. Every Amish vehicle that was driven on the road had to have a large orange reflector on the back to satisfy Delaware traffic laws, but in Caleb’s opinion the Beachy boys had gone overboard with their nonsense. He felt more conspicuous driving this hot-rod buggy in the daytime than he did at night.
A single set of fresh footprints crossed the yard from the back door of the house to the barn. The tracks were small and neat, definitely not left by Irwin’s size-eleven muck boots. Anticipation made Caleb sit up a little straighter on the bench seat. He hoped the early riser might be Rebecca and not Hannah or Susanna. As part of the evening’s escapade, Rebecca would be the last person to poke fun at him for being seen in the outrageous buggy.
He reined in the horse and swung down out of the seat. He’d turn the animal in to a box stall in the stable. Elmer could come for his horse later today. Caleb had dropped off the two brothers last night before taking the other two boys home, but he wasn’t doing them any more favors by returning the horse and buggy. They could walk over to retrieve it, providing their father ever let them leave the house again. As it was, they’d gotten off easy. They hadn’t been arrested and hadn’t caused the community public shame—perhaps even unwanted pictures in the Dover newspaper. That would have been hard to live down.
Caleb unharnessed the horse and walked it to the barn, still deep in thought.
Immediate disaster had been avoided by getting the boys away from the party before the police arrived, but preventing future indiscretions would be more difficult. Caleb knew that teenage boys had short memories. The talking-to he’d given the miscreants the previous night was only the first step in changing their behavior. He had spent an hour on his knees this morning praying that God would give him the wisdom to live up to the task.
As Caleb entered the Yoder barn, he looked up to see Rebecca coming down the ladder from the hayloft. For a few seconds, he didn’t call out to her. She was such a pretty sight, all pink cheeked from the cold, red curls tumbling around her face and small graceful hands—hands that could bake bread, soothe a crying child and manage a spirited driving horse without hesitation.
“Caleb!” A smile lit her eyes and spread over her face. “I didn’t expect you so early.”
“Ya.” Why did he always sound as though he was about to deliver a sermon when he spoke to her? Most times, he felt at ease around people he knew, but Rebecca often made him trip over his own tongue. “You, too,” he added. “Up early.”
She nodded. “I like mornings, when it’s quiet. And when there’s snow or rain, it seems even quieter. A barn can be almost like a church. Don’t you think so? The contented sounds of the animals, the rustle of hay when you throw it down from the loft.” She laughed softly. “I must sound foolish.”
“Ne. I feel the same way. Not so much like when the bishop gives a sermon, but as if...as if God is listening.”
“Exactly.” She came down the last few rungs to the floor, folded her arms and stood there, smiling at him, almost as if she was waiting for something.
He cleared his throat. “Your mother? Did she ask what happened? Was she angry that you got home so late?”
“Not angry.” The corners of Rebecca’s eyes crinkled as her mood became more serious. “Concerned. But when I explained what we did, why we had to go and fetch Irwin and the others home, she understood.” Rebecca arched an eyebrow. “She was very unhappy with Irwin, and she let him know it.”
Caleb led the horse into a stall, backed out and closed the gate. “Will she punish him?”
Rebecca brushed hay off her skirt. “Mam has always been good at finding the right punishment for each of her children, and her pupils. I think she’ll find extra work for him to do. He won’t have so much free time to think up mischief.” She went to a feed bin, lifted the wooden lid and scooped out a measure of grain.
“That’s what I was thinking.” Caleb walked over to stand nearer, and he caught a whiff of green apples. The scent was one he’d come to associate with Rebecca, and he supposed it must be her shampoo. Hannah was sometimes lenient with her daughters, but wouldn’t allow Rebecca to wear perfume. Green apple was a plain smell, clean and honest. He liked it, maybe more than he wanted to admit. “What I thought would be best,” he said.
She looked at him expectantly.
“I know the parents will want to reprimand their sons as they see fit, but I think that there should be something more.” He swallowed, suddenly nervous that Rebecca wouldn’t agree his plan was the wisest—that she might think he was too lenient. “That’s to say, if the elders and the parents think that it’s a good idea, I want to meet with the boys every Saturday. Not for punishment, but for counseling.”
Rebecca’s blue eyes sparked with interest, and he went on with more confidence. When she looked at him, he got the feeling she saw beyond the scars on his face and hand. It was almost as if she didn’t see them at all. “I want each boy to take responsibility for another person or couple—elderly, or those with health problems. And not from the church district they belong to. That would be too easy. They should already be caring for their own grandparents, their own neighbors. I want them to help someone in another district. And not just for a few weeks. I want them to paint, repair, fetch and carry, do whatever’s needed for a full year.” He waited, unconsciously holding his breath for her reaction.
“Caleb, that’s a wonderful idea,” she pronounced. Understanding flooded her animated features, and her gaze grew warm. “A year of helping someone who needs it. That could make a difference, not just for the teens but for those receiving the help. You could change lives in a year.”
“I hope so.” He felt the tenseness drain from his shoulders. “These are good boys, just...”
“Just kids,” she said. “It’s not easy to grow up. But...” She fiddled with one of the ties that hung from her kapp.
“But what?”
“I wonder...”
“Ya? A suggestion?”
She nodded. “I think they need fun, too, a little excitement. Nothing the elders wouldn’t approve of, but perhaps...” Now she looked at him hesitantly. “Maybe you could take them places like to a baseball game or a camping trip to a national park? Interesting places that they’ve never seen.”
“Show them some of the English world?”
“Ya, Caleb. Let them see that ours is a good place, but that it isn’t wrong to want to see elephants and eat cotton candy and watch trains.”
“Trains?” He nodded, trying to hide a surge of excitement. As a boy, he’d been fascinated by trains, but he’d never gotten to ride on one. “They would like that, to ride on one, you think?”
“I’m sure they would. I know I would. You could take them on Amtrak to a work frolic in an Amish community in another state. It could be a reward for completing their year of service.”
He grinned at her. “A reward for doing right. I like that idea, Rebecca. I like it a lot, and if we were going for a reason—say to help raise a barn or dig a well in another Amish community, I think the elders would approve.” He chuckled. “And I would like the train ride, too.”
“Caleb.” He turned to see Rebecca’s mother standing in the doorway. “I saw the horse and buggy.” Hannah smiled at him, but Caleb sensed that she wasn’t entirely comfortable to find him alone in the barn with her Rebecca.
“I was just about to ask Rebecca if she thought it was too early for me to pick up Amelia at Johanna’s,” he said.
“I can do that for you,” Rebecca offered. She hurried to the nearest box stall and dumped a scoop of grain into the feed box. Blackie pushed his nose into the fragrant horse chow. “There’s no sense in you being late for work. We can drive back to the chair shop and then I can go and get Amelia. I’d like to go to Byler’s this morning, anyway. You need groceries.”
“That will work out fine,” he agreed. “It was kind of your sister to keep Amelia overnight. We don’t want to wear out her welcome.”
“Not to worry about that,” Hannah assured him. “Katy loves Amelia, and her having someone to play with makes Johanna’s life easier. Katy can be as full of mischief as her brother if she isn’t kept busy.” Hannah tilted her head. “There’s just one thing I want to know.”
“Ya?”
“When the policemen stopped you last night? What did you say to them?”
He glanced at Rebecca.
“I told Mam how scared I was when they made you get out of the buggy,” she explained.
“I was pretty scared myself,” Caleb admitted. “I just told the police that I was following you home, to see that you got home safe on such a snowy night.”
Hannah chuckled. “That was the truth, I suppose. You were following Rebecca.” She looked back at him. “And they didn’t ask why you had so many boys with you?”
Caleb shook his head. “They looked them over to see if they’d been drinking and waved us back into the buggy. I couldn’t lie, but the police didn’t ask where the boys had been headed, and I didn’t offer.”
Hannah crossed her arms over her chest and studied Caleb for a moment. “I like you, Caleb. You’re a man who knows when to speak and when not to.” She gave him a smile and walked away.
Rebecca looked at Caleb. He looked at her, and they both laughed; for just a moment, Rebecca found herself lost in his merry brown eyes.
* * *
Sunday was a visiting day, and Mam had invited Grossmama, Aunt Martha, Uncle Reuben, Dorcas, Bishop Atlee, Aunt Jezzy and her husband, Nip, and Caleb and Amelia to dinner. Even though Ruth had come over the previous day to help with the salads, pies and ham, there were still a few things to do. The bishop’s wife had gone to stay with a daughter who was expecting a baby, so the church members were taking turns having the bishop over for meals.
The truth was, Rebecca hadn’t really wanted any company today. Although she usually loved visiting Sundays, today she was restless. It seemed as if she hadn’t had a moment to herself all week, and since the night she and Caleb had gone to round up the boys, she needed time to think.
She liked Caleb—more than liked him—and she was beginning to realize that her interest went beyond respect and friendship. The previous weekend, she’d seen another side of him, and they’d shared a real adventure. Caleb had shown that he was willing to risk his reputation and bend the rules for a greater good. And then, the following morning, when he’d shared his plans and seemed genuinely interested in her opinion, she’d suspected that the weak feeling in her knees and the quickening heartbeat and giddiness she’d felt went beyond a parishioner’s approval of her preacher. She realized she was falling in love with him.
No, she corrected herself sternly, not falling—had fallen in love with him. It had already happened, sometime in the days and weeks since she’d begun caring for Amelia and his house. Every instinct told her that Caleb felt the same about her. Of course, he hadn’t said so in words. And certainly not his actions. Worse, everyone said he was courting Dorcas.
Rebecca felt so confused. Maybe he hadn’t been completely honest with her; maybe Caleb really was walking out with her cousin. Grossmama believed it. Aunt Jezzy and all the neighbors already saw Caleb and Dorcas as a couple. And over the past few weeks, Aunt Martha had certainly told everyone who would listen what a fine match the new preacher would be
for her daughter. Only Caleb continued to insist that he and Dorcas were spending time with each other to see if they wanted to court.
So Rebecca was in a quandary. What did she do about these feelings for Caleb? It wasn’t her place to initiate a conversation with him concerning their possible mutual feelings. Amish men were the ones responsible for starting such talk. Rebecca knew she could be bold at times, but she didn’t think this was a time when she could step beyond the customs of her community. What if she was wrong, and Caleb really did care for Dorcas and not her? She’d embarrass herself and Caleb.
“Becca.” Susanna tugged on her apron. “Becca. You’re not listening.” She was persistent and now was tugging at her sleeve. “Becca, Mam is mean,” she said.
“What?” Rebecca sank down on the top step of the staircase. She’d been on her way upstairs to get a clean apron from her bedroom when she’d gotten sidetracked by her introspection. The sight of Susanna’s tearstained face made her instantly ashamed. “What’s wrong, Susanna banana?”
“I want King David to eat, too. Mam said, ‘Not today.’ But I want him to come. Not fair.”
“David was here for breakfast just yesterday,” Rebecca reminded her. She dug in her apron pocket for a tissue and handed it to her sister. “Blow.”
Susanna did as she was told, blowing so hard that her eyes watered. “I want King David,” she repeated. “Mam is mean if he can’t...can’t come.” She thrust out her lower lip in a pout. “She wants to keep me and him...” Susanna’s forehead creased with concentration as she searched for the right word. “Not together!” She sniffed and wiped at the end of her nose. “Mam hates him.”
“Ne.” Rebecca slipped an arm around Susanna’s trembling shoulders. “Mam doesn’t hate anyone, and she certainly doesn’t hate David. She likes him.”
Susanna looked up hopefully. “She does? He can come eat ham?”
Rebecca shook her head. “Not today. Another day. You can’t see each other every day. It isn’t proper. You aren’t children. If you spend too much time together, people will talk.”