Rebecca's Return (10 page)

“Sounds fishy to me,” Mattie said, moving toward the kitchen door.

“Don’t let him get away with it,” Rebecca said to her mother’s retreating form. “He was insulting us.”

“He means well,” Mattie said before disappearing.

Lester’s pleased laugh filled the room. “See? Now that’s knowing your man.”

“You can be glad she likes you,” Rebecca retorted.

“I’m a nice person,” he allowed quite confidently, stroking his chest-length beard. “I raised you.”

“Don’t answer him.” Rebecca held her hand up in John’s direction.

Lester laughed again. “He was just going to get in a good word, that’s all.”

“You were going to—right?” Rebecca looked at John, then waited, studying his face.

John was searching wildly for words. “Ah, sure. Why not? Well, I guess so.”

“You’ll have to do better than that, son.” Lester’s grin was back in full force.

“Maybe he just needs practice—like you,” Rebecca told him.

“No doubt.” Lester leaned back on his recliner again. “Sounds like he’ll be getting some. It’s in the spring—next spring I hear.”

John felt himself getting red around his collar. “That’s the plan. Yes.”

“Nice place you have on the ridge there.” Lester nodded. “Real nice.”

“I was fortunate to catch the buy. It wasn’t even on the market. The folks just knew Dad and asked if he knew of anyone.”

“Fair price and all?”

John rocked his head a little. “A bit high, I suppose, but there wasn’t much choice. Not if you want to be on the ridge.”

“Nice place up there. Good place for a business too.”

“I was thinking of that,” John allowed, glad that his future father-in-law was following his own thoughts. It was comforting to have his approval.

“Farming’s gone by the wayside. Pretty much over anymore.”

“Nothing wrong with it,” John said, not wanting to offend farming and farmers. “Just hard for young people.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Most everything’s covered right now.” John raised his eyebrows. “I thought maybe a cabinet and woodworking shop—specialty stuff. Make some of the things they sell at Miller’s.”

“Down the road sometime, I suppose?”

John nodded. “Aden pays pretty well, so I’ll stay for the time being. Maybe till the place is paid off. That way there’s less debt.”

Lester nodded too.

“It’s not just dollars and cents,” Rebecca said, interrupting both their thoughts and causing John to glance at her in surprise.

Lester’s grin returned. “Like love?” he asked his daughter.

“Yeah—we’ll live on that,” she retorted.

“You think that’ll work?” Lester asked in John’s direction.

John felt the red spreading and again suffered a loss of words. The thought of him living with Rebecca, sitting right there beside her, caused the color to spread even faster.

Rebecca glanced up at John. “Quit tormenting him,” she said in her father’s direction. “He was worried and rightly so. I should have made more effort to let him know what was going on.”

“Popcorn,” Mattie announced, bringing in the heaping bowls.

“Let me tell you something,” Lester said, as Mattie disappeared back into the kitchen again.

“Dad.” Rebecca’s voice was firm, holding another warning.

Lester ignored her. “I am really thankful to the good Lord. All our children—they are turning out well.”

John nodded, agreeing with the words but not certain what they meant, other than a father’s general appreciation.

Lester was not done. “The two oldest—married.”

John understood that to mean what it did—Amish partners at least.

Lester continued, “Money’s not everything in life. The spiritual’s the most important.”

“Yes,” John agreed again.

“We had a close call.” Lester continued, looking to John and settling back into his recliner. “Especially with Rebecca.”

“Dad.” Rebecca’s voice was now filled with alarm.

“A close call—for her?” John was suddenly quite interested.

“She had a little rough time.” Lester nodded solemnly. “But the good Lord helped us through it, I guess.”

“Dad.” Rebecca’s voice was getting a little louder.

“How was that?” John’s interest was increasing, his fears hungrily reaching forward for news.

Mattie came in right then from the kitchen, catching only the drift of the conversation. “Who’s worried?”

“Dad’s telling him about Atlee,” Rebecca informed her mother, taking the bowl of popcorn and picking at the kernels with her fingers. She desperately wanted this conversation to change.

“I was just telling John how thankful we were,” Lester said.

“Oh, that,” Mattie said, glancing at Rebecca. “We all have those.”

Lester, his fingers in his popcorn bowl, continued. “This was pretty serious. Marrying a Mennonite wouldn’t have been for the best. Rebecca, I think, would have had better sense than that.”

“It wasn’t that serious, Lester,” Mattie said quickly. “I’m sure Rebecca already told John.” Glancing over at Rebecca’s face, Mattie blurted out, “Oh, you didn’t.”

Instead of redness now, John felt his face turn pale.

“You didn’t tell him.” Mattie was still looking at Rebecca.

“A little,” Rebecca said, keeping her eyes on the floor. “I didn’t ever date him,” she added.

“Of course not,” Mattie said. “It was just a schoolgirl thing.”

“Pretty serious,” Lester chimed in, eyeing his popcorn, munching happily away.

Mattie glared at him. “It was just a youngster’s fantasy. Nothing more.”

John was all attention now, his eyes fully on Rebecca’s face. She looked ready to scream, lie, say anything, he thought.

“Oh, did I say something?” Lester asked.

Mattie’s eyes were daggers.

“I see I did,” Lester said. “Maybe it wasn’t as serious as I made it sound.”

“You should have let her tell him,” Mattie said, her voice low and steady.

“Sorry.” Lester genuinely looked so. “I was just expressing my thanks to the good Lord.”

“You should have waited till later,” Mattie told him. “He didn’t know.”

“I can tell that now,” Lester replied, seeing John’s face.

John felt embarrassment creeping all the way through his body. Something serious was going on—or had gone on. So his feelings had been grounded in fact. Rebecca did have secrets after all.

He wanted to run, to leave this place, to never come back. But that would mean leaving Rebecca. He willed himself to calm down lest his face show his true feelings.

“She told me about something—in school,” he managed to say.

“That’s all it was. Lester’s making a big thing out of it.” Mattie was smiling, watching him.

John thought Mattie’s smile was somewhat forced. A feeling of the world pressing in could be felt on his skin, yet there was simply no way he could lose this girl.
She can explain it, can she not? That is, if we could go somewhere private.

John glanced at the stair door leading up to Rebecca’s room. He saw Rebecca glance at it too. She understood, he was certain, but was not consenting to go up to her room.
Could I ask?
How stupid would that question sound to Lester and Mattie?
Ah—your daughter, I want to see her in her room. We’re not married, but we need to be there.

“More popcorn?” Mattie offered.

He glanced down at his half-empty bowl, knowing she was just attempting to relax the atmosphere. In a way he was grateful, yet he wished this could be solved now. What if he blurted out,
Tell me everything?

“Dad didn’t mean any harm.” It was Rebecca’s voice. “He was just concerned.”

“He should have been more careful!” Mattie spoke empathetically.

“I should have,” Lester said, echoing her. “If there was a real danger, see, I wouldn’t have said anything. Rebecca’s making a very good choice now. That’s really what I was trying to say.”

“We know that,” Mattie joined in.

“It’s okay,” John told them, his voice not sounding okay, but the words were right. “A school thing is what it was.”

“You got that right,” Lester said.

“So have you told John about the baby yet?” Mattie asked.

“She didn’t have time,” John said, with a smile meant for all of them. “I really need to be going though. Maybe she can tell me all about it Sunday night.”

“Of course.” Mattie was beaming.

“It’s just baby news,” Lester said.

John was already rising to his feet, nodding his head slightly, acting as nicely as he could, and moving toward the front door. Rebecca seemed for a moment to consider staying seated. Something surely wasn’t right. At the last moment, Rebecca got up to follow John out.

John held the door as Rebecca stepped outside, the late evening air chilling their lungs. “I’ll get my coat,” she told him, stepping back inside for a moment. John saw Mattie and Rebecca exchange glances, a reassuring smile crossing Mattie’s face.

John pulled the door shut behind Rebecca, the darkness of the night wrapped itself around them, the light from the gas lantern in the living room playing on their backs.

“I could have told you about the baby tonight,” she said, her voice strained.

“I have to get home,” he said, but his voice was no longer nice. The soft edge from the living room was gone.

“You’re upset,” she stated simply.

“Of course I am.” His voice rose in the darkness. “You’ve hidden something from me.”

“Dad shouldn’t have said those things,” Rebecca said. “I was going to tell you. Really I was. You have nothing to be worried about.”

“Oh—you were?” John asked, his voice clipped. He had never spoken to her like this before, but he couldn’t stop. “Tell me what? Tell me about what you were really doing in Milroy. Baby—sure there probably was one, but what else was there? Secret meetings with some lost love? Wishing you could be with him? Hoping to hold his hands?”

John knew the words burned through Rebecca, searing her heart. Perhaps not even her father had ever spoken to her like this, but he couldn’t help himself. His horse suddenly snorted behind him, the rattle of the rings on the leather bridle jingling from the sudden movement. John saw Rebecca flinch.

“Is that why you didn’t write or call me?” John continued. “Wanted to break the news gently maybe? That would just be like you, tenderly and gently telling me. There’s someone else, John. I just haven’t gotten around to telling you before. I promised to marry you, but now I can’t.”

Rebecca laughed softly.

“That’s all you can do? Laugh?” John’s voice was getting louder in the darkness.

“It’s not what you think,” she stated. “I wasn’t laughing at you.”

“Of course not.” There was bitterness now in John’s voice.

“John, do you seriously think I’m sneaking around?”

“I don’t know what to think. You were gone for all this time and never contacted me. Never let me know when you would be coming back. Make me come over to find out where you are. Use my concern about you to embarrass me. You think coming over here was easy? What if you hadn’t been here? How would I have looked? Now, your own father tells me things I didn’t know.”

“I told you,” she said, her voice low.

“No—you didn’t.” John’s voice was rising again, though he was consciously trying to control it and calculate the proper volume to avoid being heard inside the house.

“I was planning to,” she told him. Then she quietly said, “I love you.”

“So that’s what you told him too?” Sarcasm dripped.

“There is no one else.”

“Is? What does this mean? How about was? Did you just see him? Talk to him? How am I supposed to trust you, Rebecca? You don’t tell me everything. Is this what you were afraid of down by the bridge when I proposed to you?”

Rebecca stood there, saying nothing.

“How can you expect us to live as man and wife with secrets from each other?”

“I explained it to those who could help,” she said. “I was going to tell you.”

“Really—so there are others who know? Did they see you with him? Is that why you had to tell them? Is that how they know?”

“I was going to try to tell you,” she said softly. “I really was.”

Something in her tone must have reached him because his pause became longer, as if he was thinking it over. Then realizing how harsh he sounded, he moved toward her and said, “I’m sorry. That was unnecessary—really. I don’t know what came over me.”

“I’m sorry you’re angry,” she said and heard him sigh in the darkness.

“I’m sorry too…that I got angry. It’s just that I care so much. I get worried about you.” His arms waved in the darkness, dim shadows going up and down behind him. “Especially when things like this happen…When you’re dad says things as he did.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t talk about it anymore tonight. Maybe you’ll let me explain on Sunday.”

He seemed to be thinking before speaking, “Maybe—yes—sure. There’s a good explanation for all of this. You always…I mean… Look—let’s not let this come between us. Surely, somehow this can be worked out.”

“Let’s talk then on Sunday.”

“Okay.” His hand dropped to his side. “I’m sorry. I really am. We’ll have plenty of time then. I’m sure you haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

“I have to go,” he said, walking to the front of his horse, untying it, and climbing into the buggy.

He looked back once through the open door of his buggy as the horse took off, glad to be free from his restraint and on the way home.

A piece of gravel popped up from the narrow buggy wheel, stinging her leg, hurting her skin.

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HAPTER
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WELVE