Rebecca's Choice (12 page)

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 needed 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.”

“That deserves something,” she whispered and pulled him close. She lifted her face to his. He yielded and kissed her gently, their fingers entwined.

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.

“It’s not me that will be hard on them,” Isaac said sighing. “There’s many a tongue will wag over this.”

“But they did nothing wrong,” Mattie said, the concern obvious in her voice.

“No,” Isaac said, “I guess they didn’t.”

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTEEN

M
anny Troyer looked out of his plane window, his large frame cramped in his seat. The Columbus International airport had just been announced on the intercom. They were twenty minutes out. He reached for his seat belt and wearily tried to fastened it. The first two tries failed, but the clip caught on the third.

A stewardess gave him a professional smile as she walked by. She saw his fastened seat belt and raised seat and moved on. Her face reminded Manny of someone he thought he had forgotten.

Yet he knew he would never forget her. There were times when her face, dimmed by time and distance, no longer could be seen clearly. The years had done things to him, to his memories, and to his body. He groaned and shifted in his seat, but when it came to Emma, he still remembered.

Strange that I’ve never married,
he thought.
Yet, is it so strange?
He didn’t know sometimes. The strangest thing was how well he had been accepted in his church world as an unmarried man. Men in Mennonite and Amish worlds were expected to marry. Manny had been the exception. Things had just kind of happened—or rather not happened.

He was an old man now, in more ways than one. He was weary in body and soul. Life had been good to him, though, he often told himself. Not everyone got to do the kind of work he did and enjoyed. His work had begun as a missionary at the Mennonite mission in Haiti. Later he became its director, and now he was the executive director of all mission activity on the island. He sat on a half dozen American church and university boards, a respected and sought out voice when it came to missions.