Rebecca's Return (27 page)

That was the last thing Reuben wanted Ezra doing, but what was there to say? Certainly telling Ezra he shouldn’t talk to the bishop wouldn’t help matters at all. “I’d just do my confession and get it over with,” he said.

“We’ll see.” Ezra clearly considered the conversation over. “You have any more stops to make?”

“No,” Reuben said before he thought better of it, then had to finish the sentence, “this is the last one.”

“See you tomorrow at church then.” Ezra nodded his head briskly. “Got my buggy to finish washing.”

Reuben nodded, slapping the reins, waking the old driving horse out of his stupor, and moving forward as Ezra hosed his buggy with water. He had a deep concern for what might happen tomorrow if Ezra actually talked with Mose.

That evening Rachel seemed at peace around the house, and Reuben was thankful for it. As she served them supper, Luke sat across the table, lost in thought over something.

“You get the oats at the co-op?” Reuben asked him.

“Yes,” he answered, nodding, “got home sometime after lunch.”

Rachel thought she saw a slight redness creep up Luke’s neck but decided not to mention it. Things were going too well with what Reuben had done this afternoon to disturb anything. There was no sense in making trouble where there was none. Whatever Luke was embarrassed about likely involved a girl, probably that Susie creature.

With
Da Hah
soon to be pleased with them, Susie would be a thing of the past. Reuben was on her side now and the world was looking rosy.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY-THREE

T
he brisk Sunday morning air moved across Rebecca’s face, as she walked to the barn. She was ahead of Matthew, who had been stirring in his room when she left the upstairs. Her father was always the first out to the barn—unless he wasn’t home—but that was seldom.

She had gone to sleep last night thinking about John and their future together. Poor John was still unconscious, she assumed. Rebecca doubted she would have been told if he had awakened. That chance would come this morning—at church—the first real opportunity for Miriam or one of the other relatives to pass on any news.

It crossed her mind that because she was promised to John, that made her—in a way—a Miller relative. Yesterday Miriam and Isaac had fully accepted her into the family. They would have eventually, but the accident had sped the process up.

There was so much about their relationship that still needed addressing, and they had planned to talk about it today. But now that was impossible.

She opened the barn door to the familiar smells and sights of the morning milking. Its very simplicity and earthiness flowed around her.

Why can’t all of life be this simple? Why can’t all of life have this solid rhythm and flow about it, like milking the cows or tilling the soil does? Here the sun comes up each morning when it is supposed to. Here the cows drop their milk on schedule, bawling in pain if they aren’t relieved on time.

Does everyone really think I am just supposed to go on living in the
same way as before, even if the world changes so abruptly around me? They certainly seem to. Am I to bear up and keep on with the plans and act the same regardless of the pain?
It hardly seemed fair to her, and she felt like telling the world.

If she spoke her thoughts aloud, her father would be the only one to hear, and maybe Matthew.
Trouble,
he would say, or
Girls.
The thought of Matthew and his simplistic solutions made her smile. How like the young to think they knew everything, that all of life could be summed up by one or two sentences.

“Good to see you smiling,” Lester said, having come in from the milk house. “There’s always something to smile about—isn’t there?”

“Just thinking about Matthew,” she told him, “and what he would say about my problems.”

“You do have some big ones,” Lester agreed soberly, “but
Da Hah
will see you through.”

“Does He always?” Rebecca asked, more to make conversation than because she doubted.

“If we let Him,” her father said.

“How do we let Him?” she asked, this time sincerely wanting to know.

“By doing what is right—then waiting.”

“What if I don’t always know what’s right?” she asked.

“Then you wait—doing what you
do
know, of course. Maybe others can help.”

She nodded. Behind her the barn door swung open, letting in Matthew, his face brightening when he saw her.

“Thought you had to do the chores by yourself?” she asked, teasing him.

“I’m capable,” he retorted. “Dad knows I am.”

“Yes, you are,” Lester said, “but extra help doesn’t hurt anyone.”

“I did it all by myself when she was gone,” he replied.

“And a good job too,” Lester said. “Now take the help while you can and be thankful. You never know how long things will last.”

“Is Rebecca going somewhere again?” Matthew asked.

Rebecca wasn’t sure whether the concern was from the thought of her leaving or from the extra work it would leave him with.

Deciding to lead him on, Rebecca said, “I’ll get married someday.”

“When?” he asked skeptically.

“We’ll see.”

“You think too much,” Matthew told her, waiting for the cows, which had just come in, to settle down.

How fast he is growing up,
she thought,
so quickly turning into a young man, and he, my little brother.
She could remember changing his diaper not that long ago, feeding him with a spoon on the highchair while her mother tended to other household duties.
So quickly time passes,
she told herself.
Will this pass too? John and the accident?

It didn’t seem to be passing quickly. The last day and night had stretched out like an eternity, and this day wasn’t looking any better.
I probably need to go see John this afternoon,
she thought, wondering if her mother would take her or if she would need to drive herself.

As her father walked by, she asked him, “Can Mom take me down to see John this afternoon?”

“I don’t know why not. You ought to go—even sooner if he gets worse. I can watch the girls if you go with Mom.”

“I’ll ask her,” she replied and then added, “I ought to go in and help with breakfast. After the next round.”

“We need to be on the road by eight ten,” Lester said, just to be sure everyone remembered. “Church is clear on the west end—Jacob Byler’s place this week.”

Arriving late for church wasn’t only frowned upon, it was embarrassing. Not only could everyone watch you pull in late, they could watch you the whole time it took to walk in and find your place. There was no backdoor to enter unnoticed.

“I’d better go then,” she said, loosening the last milker from the line of cows.

Matthew was waiting to release the cows from their stanchions. As he did they pushed and shoved their way back out to the barnyard.

Rebecca left just as Matthew hollered at the cows, pressing to move out of the barn all at the same time. Outside she took a deep breath of the fresh winter morning air, letting her eyes feast on the bright dawning of the sun in the east. Great streaks of red, orange, and blue went skyward, accented by low hanging clouds on the horizon.

With a sigh she went into the house, stopping to leave her coat in the front closet.

“Good morning,” Mattie said. “Can you get the girls up for me?”

“Sure,” she said. “I thought you might need help.”

“I’ve almost got the eggs and oatmeal done. Lester probably wants to leave early.”

“That’s what he said. Can you take me to the hospital this afternoon? I probably should go.”

“If Lester watches the girls.”

“He said he would.”

“Shouldn’t be any problem then. You get the girls up. We might be running late already.”

Rebecca went to get her sisters up, making sure they got dressed in their everyday clothing for breakfast. “It’s Sunday morning,” she told them to keep the orientation correct in their minds. “After breakfast you’ll need to change into your good clothing.”

Gathered around the kitchen table by the time Lester and Matthew came in from the barn, breakfast was eaten mostly in silence. After the second prayer of thanks, everyone scattered to their tasks. The girls helped in the kitchen and then ran off to change again. Lester went to the barn to get the driving horse ready.

While Lester changed, Matthew hitched the horse to the buggy. At fifteen minutes after eight, they were on the road, and by twenty till nine, they were pulling into the Byler’s already fast-filling barnyard full of buggies.

“Made it in time,” Lester said, relief in his voice.

“You always do,” Mattie reminded him. “You have a good sense of timing.”

“Whoa there,” was all Lester said in reply, talking to the horse, pulling up to the sidewalk to unload the womenfolk.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY-FOUR

O
utside of Milroy at Ben Yoder’s place, Reuben arrived at church on time. Pulling in he eyed the long line of men standing in the barnyard facing the house. He had hoped against hope, he wouldn’t see what he was now seeing—or rather not seeing. Bishop Mose was missing from the front of the line. He was never late. That meant that the bishop must be in the barn talking to someone. Who that was, Reuben had little doubt.

To distract himself, he asked Rachel, “How’s the baby doing?”

Rachel looked surprised, even happy, Reuben thought, but she had been looking that way since yesterday when he had agreed to approach her brother Ezra about the tractor driving.

“Good,” she said, before the buggy stopped in front of the walk.

Behind him, three other buggies were pulling in from the road. They slowed down, waiting until he moved on. Rachel never looked back or sideways, gathering her shawl tightly around her shoulders in the chilly morning air and strode quickly up the walk.

Watching her go, Reuben wondered again how he had let himself get talked into this situation with Ezra. Not much could be done about it now though. He would simply have to live through it.
Surely things won’t get too bad,
he told himself, feeling a little hopeful, even if Ezra was out in the barn complaining to the bishop.

Executing a sharp left, Reuben maneuvered into place, along the line of parked buggies. Amos Troyer, a young man about Luke’s age, came over to help unhitch.

“Nice morning,” he said, taking the tugs off his side as Reuben removed his own. “Luke here already?”

“Should be,” Reuben told Amos, his mind not on the conversation. “Left before we did.”

Amos glanced around. “Yah, he’s here,” he said, having spotted Luke’s buggy. “Taking that Susie home now,” Amos stated, chuckling.

“You weren’t wanting to do that yourself, were ya?” Reuben teased, his mind temporarily distracted from his troubles.