Rebecca's Choice (34 page)

“I really need to talk,” Leona said, “with you and Mattie.”

“About me and John?” Rebecca asked. “You said something in the letter.”

“Yes. Maybe we can talk over the lunch hour. Stephen’s gone back to the fields with Lester, I saw.”

“We did decide something last night.” Rebecca held the front door open.

“I hope something is done and soon. People are really talking out there.”

“It’s not my fault,” Rebecca informed her aunt. She knew she sounded too intense, but the feelings just rose up in her.

“I think we’d better talk right now. Let’s help your mom with the pies.”

“I have another load of wash to do,” Rebecca told her.

“I’ll help you when we’re done.” Leona led the way to the kitchen. Jonathon cried from the floor when she passed, and that took a moment to get him satisfied again.

Rebecca waited. She enjoyed the sight of her nephew as he kicked on the floor, his blanket firmly under him again.

“He’ll be okay,” Leona said. “It’s a strange house for him, but he gets used to those things quickly—like a boy.” She made a face as she finished her statement.

“Where are you two?” Mattie hollered from the kitchen.

“Coming,” Leona said. “Jonathon distracted us.”

“Leona wants to talk,” Rebecca told her mother, “while we work.”

“I suppose so. If it’s about John and Rebecca, I’m about talked out on that subject,” Mattie informed them.

“But something has to be done. It’s all over the place out there. Can’t something be done?” Leona spun the opener on a can of cherries, as both she and Rebecca found their places in the pie-making process without instructions.

“You surely didn’t come all the way out here just to say that,” Mattie said.

“Not really. I guess I wanted to visit. But can’t something be done? I hate to see Rebecca’s name dragged down like this. Everyone thinks she’s marrying for money. Emma never did anything like that. It’s all just a shame, the way things are turning out. How Emma got the money from her brother, I don’t know. But now everyone thinks Emma must have found out about Rebecca and Atlee and that she’s trying to do a good deed with the money, of course. She’s just trying to keep someone in the faith.”

Rebecca cleared her throat, but the words wouldn’t come. Her heart felt tied up, obligated to an honor, a loyalty to her former teacher. She couldn’t violate it even to defend herself.

“I’m going to give back the money,” she said instead.

“That’s good to hear but hard to make anyone believe,” Leona told her. “Do the ministers around here believe you?”

“Mom and Dad do,” Rebecca told her.

“Yes, we do,” Mattie agreed. “Lester and John talked last night. Well… all of us did. They want to be married before next communion.”

“Oh!” Leona’a eyes lit up. “And you and Lester agreed?”

“We did,” Mattie said.

“Then that would solve the problem for Rebecca and everyone.”

“I think so,” Mattie told her.

“So you’re getting married. And early.” Leona turned to face Rebecca.

Rebecca felt a flush rise up her neck. “The bishop has to agree yet. John had hoped to speak with his father. He did last night, John said, but now this has happened.”

“
Da Hah
will help you,” Leona said, her voice firm. “I just feel it. Emma was such an honorable person. She wouldn’t do anything without the blessing of the Almighty on it. This cannot but turn out well.”

“We hope so,” Mattie said. “Turn on the oven, Rebecca.”

“It will,” Leona said. “Love is in the air. My, my, isn’t that good.”

“You sound like a schoolgirl,” Mattie told her. “Acting like one too. Scaring the wits out of us, coming early.”

Leona laughed heartily. “It’s the best thing I’ve done in a long time.”

Rebecca smiled, caught up in their emotion. Leona left with her a few minutes later for the basement and the final load of wash. They chatted about Milroy and the news from there. The hours passed quickly.

A full supper was started about three, and the children were welcomed home from school at three thirty. After handshakes and hugs were exchanged, it was time for chores. Rebecca left to help Matthew, while Leona and Mattie stayed in the kitchen.

After supper her father, filled in on the happening of the day, left with Stephen for Wheat Ridge to see if there was news about their fallen minister.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY-SIX

R
achel called for Reuben to come. Supper was ready. He lowered
The Budget,
glanced at her, and then lay the pages on the floor. Rachel, already seated at the kitchen table, sighed. Her days had grown long, filled with drudgery and weariness. She felt tired most of the time. Reuben told her cheerfully it was the expectant child and she would feel better once it was born. Rachel knew the reason wasn’t the child but couldn’t really say so without too much being said. She had given in to despair.

Her antics with the ferns remained her secret and would stay so, if she had anything to say about it. A lecture from Reuben, combined with the disappointment of her plan’s failure would be too much to bear. To her the plan would always remain sanctified, an attempt at a noble effort.

She had now remained without a new plan for weeks and supposed things would continue so. Her strength had simply come to an end, her efforts thwarted at all turns. The inheritance lay beyond her grasp, her life condemned to poverty, she had concluded. God, as well as man, seemed to be against her.

Reuben wanted her to help in the barn tonight after supper. The “goat barn” he called it. She couldn’t bring herself to do the same. To her it was the barn, as it had been before the goat venture, before the building was associated with the lowly critters Reuben cared so much about.

Reuben sat down across from her. She was large with child, and he was deep in his own thoughts. They bowed their heads together in prayer.

“Luke’s coming home Saturday night,” he said, as he reached for the nearest bowl of food.

“I know.” She really had no interest in the subject. Since the ferns were gone, the attempt to stay on Luke’s good side held no purpose. Plus he would bring along Susie or talk about her. Susie was just another reminder of so many things gone wrong.

“You don’t look well,” Reuben said searching her face. “Is the child too much?”

“I’m not having problems,” she told him.

“It’s a late pregnancy,” he said. “Neither of us are spring chickens anymore. I guess no one could blame you.”

“I’m just weary. Tired of life.”

He smiled, “It’s
Da Hah’s
gift, the child, His mercy in our old age.”

“A cross,” she muttered.

“It bears the mark of righteousness,” he said. “Children are a great blessing.”

“Perhaps the inheritance would make it easier,” she said. Not that she expected her words to change his mind, but she couldn’t help herself.

“God has already provided. Your father’s money can just stay where it is. That Rebecca girl will get her things straightened out in time. Sooner or later, I might even speak with Bishop about it.”

“About what?”

He glanced at her. “I heard she was having some trouble with the church. She stayed back from communion, at least that’s what I heard. I think it’s correct. It’s all kind of silly. Let the girl have the money. Bishop might be able to clear things up with Milroy.”

“So she can marry Amish?”

“Of course. Then the problem’s solved.”

“What about us?” She gripped the side of the chair.

“
Da Hah
has blessed us with a prosperous business. We are well supplied for. As the good book says, if you have food and raiment, be content. That we have and more. I’ve never felt younger. We’re about to have a child in our old age like Abram and Sarah. Let the girl have the money. It never did your aunt much good.”

“How can you say such a thing?” She felt the food catch in her throat.

“It didn’t,” he insisted. “Look at Emma, the life she lived. Sure she was a good schoolteacher, but others could have taken her place there. What did she miss out on? A husband, children, grandchildren, many blessings. Every woman should experience them.”

“I would have taken her place,” she said.

He glanced mildly at her. “Sometimes you worry me. You will meet
Da Hah
someday face-to-face. What will you tell Him then? Money won’t do any good. He might even have problems with you, with how much you love money.”

“I obey Him same as you,” she said but avoided his gaze.

“We must love Him with all our hearts. Do you love Him?”

“Of course I do. How can you ask that?”

“It troubles me,” he said. “I think about it at night sometimes, the day that’s to come. Like a great dawning it will be. Angels will come with Him. He’ll be brighter than the sun. That terrible sword will be in His mouth. Trumpets, loud, will awake the dead. Do you love Him, Rachel?”

“You read too many Scriptures on Sunday,” she said with a tight smile. “You don’t have to be a deacon at home. I’m your wife. You don’t have to preach.”

“I wasn’t trying to preach,” he said, but his eyes looked sad. “It’s your soul, Rachel. You are the one who will have to give answer for it.”

“You shouldn’t think such things. You’re my husband. I’m okay. I’m married to a deacon.”

“You have been a good wife.” His words caught her by surprise, as he reached for a second helping of potatoes. “I have no complaints. We have a good son. He will stay in the faith, I think. Now another child, one who will comfort us in our old age. I couldn’t ask for more.”

She said nothing but studied his face. He was such a simple man, so easily satisfied. He had interested her at one time, drawn her in, but that was a long time ago. To satisfy him now meant little to her. She already knew where his standard lay. It was well below the mark that mattered to her.

Reuben pushed his plate away, the last of the food scraped off. “I’m ready for help in the goat barn.”

“I need to do the dishes first.” She rose too.

“This won’t take long. I really need help right now. I can finish by myself then.”

She assented silently and followed him outside. He pulled his boots on, while she did the same. Apparently whatever he needed help at would require boots. On the way out, he stopped for a stepladder and then his tool belt. She held the door of the barn open for him, as he passed through sideways with his tools.

Goats greeted them. They came from all corners of the barn, heads uplifted, bleating cheerfully. Some bounced around, butting each other. Reuben chuckled with delight, pushed them aside with his foot when they came too close.

“Where do you want help?” she asked. Every moment spent here would be too long.

“We need to fix those boards.” Reuben motioned with his chin toward the ceiling. “They’re broken and falling down.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Hold the stepladder and hand me the boards.” Reuben pointed again toward the side of the barn. She saw the boards lined up there and went to get one. The sooner this was done, the sooner she could get back to the kitchen.

Reuben set the stepladder in place. The goats crowded around.

“Why don’t you put them out?” she asked.

“There’s no gate on the yard,” he said and smiled.

“There used to be.”

“They knocked it down.”

She bit back her retort. That Reuben didn’t fix things too quickly was old news with her.

“I’m going up,” he said and took the first step.

She set the board down a little distance away and got ready to grasp the ladder, once his legs were high enough.

“I’m going to push,” he said, then moved up higher. She saw him reach for the ceiling boards, straighten them out, and then let go again.

Apparently he saw the question in her eyes. “I have to nail these first. Then I’ll need a board.”

She watched, her neck bending upward as Reuben produced a nail from his pouch and gripped the hammer. His arm extended, he took another step higher. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the commotion. Two goats tussled, their heads together, their hindquarters bouncing skyward, their bodies coming toward her.

Rachel told herself later, told herself a thousand times, that she had hung on tightly, had grasped the ladder with all her might as the two goats plummeted into the legs of the stepladder. The impact was too much. The ladder went sideways, and Reuben went airborne, his arms extended, his hammer arched skyward.

She had lost her own balance. Her knee had struck the stepladder, causing a stinging pain all the way up her leg. Behind her, she had heard Reuben land, the thud dull in her ears. Expecting a rebuke, she had turned, pulled the ladder upright, then waited.

It took a moment to realize that Reuben didn’t move. With a hesitant step forward, the area now clear of goats that had fled the falling human bodies, she approached him. She touched his shoulder. He moaned once, seemed to move his arm, and then there was silence.