Rebecca's Rose (23 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Beckstrand

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BOOK: Rebecca's Rose
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“Out of the frying pan, into the fire. Have you told Rebecca?”

“No, I have to figure out how to break the news to her.” Levi pulled out his phone. “Speaking of the girl of my dreams, I’ve got to call her so she doesn’t fall into a coma. That would make the relationship more difficult.”

“No,” Mom said, “your relationship is already about as impossible as it gets.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Rebecca woke with a splitting headache and a stiff neck. Linda slept beside her, her deep breathing a sure sign that she would not be waking soon.

Had it really only been twelve hours since the car accident? Rebecca felt as if seventy years had passed and she was now an old lady ready to die.

Luckily all the siblings and Mamm had been in bed and Fater’s bus hadn’t come yet when she got home last night. She could avoid the questions and awkward explanations until morning. But twelve hours wasn’t enough time to determine exactly what to tell Fater about the mountainous goose egg on her forehead. Should she stay in her room and tell him she was ill? That wouldn’t be a lie. She felt as if her head might explode if she sat up.

The pain of the accident wasn’t even what ailed her the most. She puzzled over Levi’s sudden change of mood last night. Would he take her skiing? That barely mattered this morning. Did he share Fater’s opinion about her fault in Mamm’s accident? Or had he decided to be done with her because she insisted he take her where he didn’t want to go?

She rolled over in bed and curled up into a little ball. Tightening every muscle, she tried to squeeze the unwelcome emotions from her body. How could one boy make her feel so whole and so torn to pieces all at once?

When they were apart, she thought of nothing but him—his eyes, his smile, the way he looked at her as if she were the only person in the whole world. Levi monopolized every corner of her life so that chores and responsibilities were almost impossible to complete.

When they were together, she wanted to fly over the clouds and shout at the top of her lungs how happy she was—how wonderfully, deliriously happy—just being with him, just sitting by him in the grass while he laughed and teased her.

But how much more time did they have together, really? Once he took her skiing, he might not want to end it, but she would. Reluctantly. Very reluctantly. But what else could she do? Levi was not Amish, and Rebecca would never leave her community. They would have to break from each other eventually.

She knew it was the only possible decision, but thinking about doing the right thing had never made her feel so miserable.

Rebecca pulled herself from the bed and ran her fingers through her hair. It didn’t matter how rotten she felt, she would do what had to be done. Rebecca always found the strength that others did not. Regardless of Levi’s pleading or her own heart’s sorrow, she would not waver.

She had to be strong.

After pinning her kapp into place partially over her bandage, Rebecca tied her shoes and ventured into the kitchen. Fater might be sleeping in. After arriving home so late on Fridays, he often slept until seven or eight on Saturday mornings.

No matter. Rebecca determined to face his wrath head-on. She would tell him the truth about the bump on her head, regardless of how he may react. She couldn’t think up a truthful explanation that would appease him, so she opted for the whole, unedited story. She wearied of tiptoeing around her fater.

Fater stood with his back to her, scrambling eggs at the stove. He turned his head to glance at her. “Did the apples get picked?”

“Jah, they are out on the back porch. I will do applesauce this week, Lord willing.”

He didn’t turn around. “Gute. The two trees did well this year. I milked the cows, but have Max strain the milk.”

Rebecca didn’t call attention to herself, just retrieved the broom from the closet and started sweeping the floor. Might as well get along with the chores.

“I am pleased with the way the barn turned out,” Fater said. “Your mamm says the new young man did most of it.”

Fater wasn’t one to throw out a compliment lightly. He seldom remembered Levi’s name—quite all right with Rebecca—and usually referred to him as “the new young man” whom he had never met. But whatever disapproval Fater felt for Levi’s presence on the farm melted when Fater saw the difference Levi’s work was making—hinges that creaked for years happily silenced, the horses’ coats cleaned and brushed like proper Amish animals, the yard groomed with nary a leaf out of place, the barn crisply painted.… Levi’s labor had turned their place into the kind of farm tourists passed and said, “Amish people must live there. Look how well kept it is.”

“Jah, he works very hard.” Rebecca’s heart shrank. Only for a few more weeks. Then he would be gone.

Fater scooped the eggs onto two plates and put the plates on a tray with forks and napkins. Without looking up, he said, “I am taking breakfast to your mamm. Wake Linda and the boys for chores.”

Rebecca smiled to herself. This was going well. With any luck, Fater would neglect to look at her all day and a lengthy explanation would be unnecessary.

A knock at the door interrupted Rebecca’s sweeping. Who could that be on a Saturday morning?

Levi stood on her porch, as she had seen him so many times before, in full Amish garb with a red rose in his hand. He looked weary but content, like a farmer after the hay was successfully harvested and safely stacked in the barn.

“What are you doing here?” she said in a hissed whisper.

“How’s the head?” he said, handing her the rose and stroking her cheek. “Have you changed the gauze yet?”

The flower distracted her for a second, and she buried her nose in its petals. Then she snapped up her head and glared at Levi. “You have to get out of here. Fater is in the other room. If he sees you, he will ask too many questions that have the wrong answers.”

“How is your head?” he repeated patiently.

“It feels like a cracked egg,” she said dismissively. “You could have asked me this in a text. Now go away.”

“Did you take something for the pain?”

Rebecca sighed. Didn’t Levi realize what he was risking here? “Please, go.”

Levi reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet of two orange pills. “Ibuprofen. Take them.”

“Will you go away if I promise to take them?”

Levi’s smile did not quite reach his eyes. “I’ve come to have a talk with your fater.”

Panic rose into her throat. “Not about what I told you?”

“No, no, of course not. I would never—”

“Then what? Fater will put an end to us faster than the chickens run from the cat. We can’t risk it before we go skiing.”

A frown flickered across Levi’s face. “I need to talk to him. Could you ask?”

“I know you don’t want to take me skiing, but if this is your way to make sure I can’t go, don’t bother. I will find a way to ski with or without you.”

For once she couldn’t determine the emotion in his expression. “I swear to you, Rebecca, I will take you skiing. Can I talk to your fater now?”

In confusion, Rebecca turned from Levi and went to fetch her fater. It irritated her that he seemed always so confident and sure of himself when she was certain the floor was going to open up beneath her and swallow her whole.

She knocked on her parents’ door. “There is someone to see Fater,” she said.

A pause before the door opened, and then Fater slipped from the room. For the first time today, he took a good look at her. “Becky, what happened to your head?”

“I had an accident.”

“Mamm did not mention it.”

Rebecca fingered the bandage. “I think you should meet your visitor.”

Fater frowned and turned his gaze down the hall. “Who is it?”

“Cum and see,” was all she could say.

He followed her to the front door. When he laid eyes on Levi, Fater studied him with unguarded suspicion.

“Fater, this is Levi. He is the boy who has been helping us.”

Some of Fater’s icy exterior melted, and he shook Levi’s hand. “You have done much good for us, Levi. You could be working your own farm, but you choose to help Rebecca.”

“I am glad to help her,” Levi said.

“Do I know your parents?”

“I wonder if there is a private place we could go to talk,” Levi said.

Fater looked surprised and puzzled at the same time.

“A place we could discuss a serious matter,” Levi added.

Fater’s eyes darted from Rebecca to Levi, and Rebecca could almost see the wheels turning in his head.

Had Levi come to ask for her hand in marriage? Her heart did a joyful somersault before she yanked it down to earth.

Of course not. What could be more absurd?

“The barn will be warm enough,” Fater said.

Levi glanced at Rebecca and nodded. “Very gute.”

Fater lifted his jacket from the hook by the front door. “Keep everyone from the barn until I come back.”

“Jah,” Rebecca said, resisting the urge to tackle Levi and demand an explanation.

She watched from the door as they trudged away side by side. She wished she were a fly on the wall of that bright red barn.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Levi walked next to Rebecca’s fater with his head lowered and his hands clasped behind his back, much like a prisoner going to his execution. Or perhaps his reprieve. He couldn’t be sure how Rebecca’s fater would react.

Who was he kidding? Levi knew exactly how he would react. From what he knew already, Rebecca’s fater was not an understanding man.

They entered the barn and Rebecca’s fater closed the door behind them, shutting out the bright light. They stood three feet from two milk cans, but her fater didn’t sit down and didn’t ask Levi to sit, either. Through the dimness, he scrutinized Levi with a frown on his face. With one look at that stern expression, Levi’s throat constricted and he found it impossible to speak. He hadn’t expected to be terrified out of his mind.

“What is the serious matter you wish to discuss?” her fater said.

Levi cleared his throat and wished he were sitting. It wouldn’t be good to pass out right now. “I have come to ask for forgiveness.”

“Forgiveness?”

“Jah, for the injury to Rebecca’s head.”

Her fater narrowed his eyes. “What happened?”

“We were riding in my car and got into a small accident.”

Rebecca’s fater took a step forward to study Levi more closely. “Your car? A good Amish boy does not own a car.”

Levi took a deep breath. With the next words out of his mouth, he might destroy his own future and seal his doom. But it had to be done, come what may. “My name is Levi Cooper,” he said. “My dat was Isaac Stutzman, and he died when I was seven years old. My mamm married an Englischer, who adopted me and gave me his name. I have been raised outside of the community ever since.”

Rebecca’s fater slowly folded his arms across his chest. “You are not Amish?”

“No.”

Her fater’s face darkened, and he shoved his finger into Levi’s chest. “What do you want with my Rebecca?” Then, louder, “What do you want with my daughter?”

“It’s not what you think.”

“You think my daughter is an easy target for an Englisch boy?” He pointed to the door and yelled, “Get out and never come back!”

Levi lifted his hands in surrender. “Will you listen to what I have to say?”

“You mock us by coming on our farm in these Amish clothes, making us believe you are something you are not. How far have you pulled Rebecca down?”

“I do not mock anyone,” Levi said, unable to keep the tears from sliding down his face. “And I would never harm Rebecca. I love her.”

The lines in her fater’s face deepened. “What have you done?”

Levi dared to take a step forward. “I want to explain everything to you. I mean no harm.” He motioned to the two milk cans. “Can we sit?”

Rebecca’s fater didn’t budge. He stood with his fists clenched at his sides, a pillar of stone frowning at Levi.

Levi opted to sit—hopefully a less-threatening position than towering over Rebecca’s dat. “I want to be baptized,” he said.

“Is this a joke?” her fater said, scowling.

“My life changed when I met Rebecca, and now she is the only thing that matters to me. I want to join the church and marry her.”

Her fater flinched. “Do not even suggest that.”

“I’m more serious about this than I have ever been about anything in my life. I want to be baptized.”

Her fater folded his arms. “You pretended to be Amish. Why should I believe anything you say?”

“Because I’m telling you the truth now. If she were my daughter, I would want to know. I met Rebecca in May, and we have been seeing each other ever since.”

“So she has been deceiving me also.”

“It is her rumschpringe. I didn’t want you to know. I thought you would put a stop to it.”

Her fater glared at Levi. “I would have.”

“I convinced her that it would be okay during rumschpringe.”

“Rumschpringe is no excuse for wickedness.”

“Rebecca has done nothing to shame herself. She won’t let me kiss her or hold hands in public.”

Rebecca’s fater rubbed his chin, and the frown seemed to soften a bit.

“She always behaves like the virtuous woman she is,” Levi said. “Believe me, she has done nothing wrong.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I want to marry your daughter, but things must be right between us first. How can I make all things right?”

Rebecca’s fater folded his arms and looked away. “I do not for one minute believe your sincerity.”

“Try me.”

He pinned Levi with an icy gaze. “You will not work on the farm or see Rebecca until you are baptized. Then we will see if you truly mean what you say.”

Even though he was expecting it, Levi felt as if his heart might crumble into a million pieces. How could he bear the thought of not seeing Rebecca? “I will agree to that,” Levi said, keeping his voice steady. “But I have two requests for you. I ask that you not tell Rebecca that I plan on being baptized. I want it to be a surprise.”

Her fater snorted in bitter laughter. “A surprise? I will be surprised if it comes to pass.”

“Will you keep it a secret?”

“Why the secrecy?”

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