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Authors: Jennifer Beckstrand

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BOOK: Rebecca's Rose
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For her mother’s sake, she would be cautious. But for Dottie Mae’s sake, she would be persistent.

Rebecca slipped through the shed door, making sure to open and close it carefully. She saw to it that the toolshed had the best-oiled hinges on the farm—probably the
only
oiled hinges on the farm.

Rebecca sighed. The property was falling apart around her. The barn doors hung by a thread. One of the buggy wheels had cracked last week. Fences and gates were missing slats and a good coat of paint, and the house desperately wanted a new roof. How ironic that her roof leaked when her fater roofed houses for a living.

Rebecca wedged a rake firmly under the door latch then untied the knot in her blue canvas bag. With a speed that could only be developed by frequent practice, Rebecca peeled off the Englisch clothes and slid into her dress and kapp. The jeans and T-shirt went into the bag, and the bag went behind a crate of seeds on the top shelf of the shed. She would wash the clothes later tonight while the others slept.

Rebecca’s heart performed a tiny flip. Levi liked the yellow T-shirt. She was glad she’d chosen it instead of the red one. Although he probably would have told her how much he liked the red one if she’d bought it. The boy certainly had a silver tongue.

She growled quietly. Levi was extremely kind, while she couldn’t hold her tongue. Plainspoken and harsh, Fater said. Rebecca felt her face grow hot. Although Levi tried to make light of her remark, it was obvious she had hurt his feelings when she told him she didn’t want to kiss him. She wanted to kick herself for being so blunt.
“The thought of kissing you doesn’t appeal to me”
? She might as well have said, “
I find you repulsive.
” That was not how she meant it, but that was how he heard it. Truth to tell, she found him quite attractive, but kissing was a line she would not cross. Too many undesirable things could happen once she opened that door—especially with an Englisch boy.

Still, she regretted hurting his feelings.

Emerging from the shed, fully restored to her Plain self, Rebecca saw fourteen-year-old Max tromping out of the barn and carrying a full pail of milk.

“Max,” she called. He turned at the sound of her voice. “You did the milking. Oh, denki. You are a gute brother.”

Max pursed his lips and looked past her. “Fater is home.”

Rebecca’s heart sank to her toes. “Where is he?”

“In the house.”

Hours earlier than expected. Fater’s presence explained why Max had actually milked today. The brothers snapped to attention whenever Fater was around.

Rebecca trudged to the house, though she really wanted to run the other way. She never should have gone out on the day of Fater’s return, but she had been certain she would have time later to finish the chores.

Best do what she could to placate Fater before he took his irritation out on the other siblings.

Even if Max hadn’t told her, Rebecca would have known her fater was home as soon as she came in the front door. Linda stood at the sink peeling potatoes and wiping tears from her face. She didn’t look at Rebecca but sniffed loudly as she passed.

Down the hall, Fater yelled at Danny: “…to see you can’t even make your bed. This better be spotless by the time I come back, or you can forget about supper.”

Rebecca met her fater in the hall as he marched out of Danny’s room. The irritated scowl plastered across his face was how she would always remember him. “And where have you been?” he said.

“You are home earlier than we expected, Fater,” she said.

“I told you I was coming home on Wednesday this week,” he said.

“I meant a few hours earlier.”

“Be that as it may, I should not be greeted by such a mess. The stalls need mucking out, the weeds are three feet high, the floors are sticky… and you—nowhere to be found. I leave this farm and this family in your care, Becky, and you have proven yourself a slothful, selfish girl like your sister.”

Rebecca massaged a spot on her forehead above her eyebrow. “I will catch up on everything tonight. It would have been done if you had not come home early, and then you never would have known the difference.”

“So you wile away the time and think you can rush to get things done before I return? Don’t you care what your mamm suffers while you are idle?”

Rebecca had heard Fater’s tirade before, weekly almost, and every word still stung like a swarm of hornets. But the accusations about Mamm sliced closest to Rebecca’s heart. Truth be told, she felt a stab of guilt every time she left Mamm’s side, even on the days she worked for Mrs. Johnson. The two outings with Levi plagued her conscience. She cared for Mamm more than anyone else in the world.

Rebecca was the one who could loosen the knots in Mamm’s shoulders or rub her feet to help her relax. She knew how to soothe her mother’s anxious thoughts with a song or a reading from the Bible. Rebecca remained her mamm’s one comfort, and they both knew it.

“Linda takes care of Mamm when I am away.”

“Linda can’t even care for the horse. You think she can nurse your mamm properly? You are the one who should be here, Becky. You forget how much Mamm needs you. Why are you so selfish?”

Rebecca sucked in her breath and held it. She worked hard for her family. Hard—every day. Almost single-handedly, she scrubbed the house from top to bottom—bathrooms, floors, kitchen. She tended the garden and the animals, milked, gathered eggs, watered the grass, cooked meals. It would take three hired servants all day to do the work she did. The thought of a life stuck in Mamm’s tiny little room in this suffocating house almost choked her. She had to live before the inevitability of her future life sucked her in with its endless days of drudgery, slaving for her siblings, watching her mother suffer, and enduring her fater’s bad temper.

Marriage held no escape for her either. She felt too guilty about leaving her mamm to wish for a husband.

Rebecca should have bitten her tongue, but she did not. “I could quit my job if you want me here more often, but the money I make from Mrs. Johnson pays for Mamm’s new prescriptions. And unless you bring home a bigger paycheck, I need to work.”

The blood vessel in Fater’s neck pulsed visibly. “Are you saying I cannot provide for my family?”

“Nae, we are all doing our best,” she said, in a tone she hoped would placate him. Why did she feel compelled to speak her mind? She’d be able to keep the peace if she could just shut her mouth.

“I work harder than any man I know. Do you think it is easy, spending ten hours a day on a hot roof installing shingles? I take on jobs out of town for extra money.”

Rebecca lowered her eyes and stared at a dust bunny in the corner. “I didn’t mean… You work very hard.”

“Jah, I do, and I should not have to come home and work doubly hard because my children are too lazy to keep up the farm. I am entitled to rest for a day before going out again. Is that too much to ask?”

Yes!
Rebecca wanted to scream, but for once she managed to swallow it. Let Fater release his tirade when he came home from a long week of construction work. At least they were in peace while he was away.

Rebecca turned from her fater and headed down the hall to the kitchen. “I will help Linda with supper while you look in on Mamm.”

While Linda tended the bubbling soup, Rebecca, Danny, and Max weeded the garden. Rebecca had planted two extra rows of peas this spring plus tomatoes for fall canning. The garden plot took up almost a half acre. Weeding alone was a full day’s work. Rebecca loved tending the flower beds and garden. If only she could plant and trim and weed all day long, she would be perfectly happy.

They finished what they could before suppertime. Her brothers’ help proved invaluable in accomplishing a good chunk of the task. If only she could get them to work without the threat of Fater’s wrath hanging over their heads.

Mamm, keeping to her bed, said she had no appetite. The four siblings and their fater ate together at the kitchen table. After a supper eaten in complete silence, Fater went to the bedroom to be with Mamm. Max and Linda washed the dishes while Rebecca and twelveyear-old Danny swept and mopped the floor.

After finishing the dishes, Linda flounced to their bedroom to pout. Rebecca dragged Max and Danny to the garden to finish the weeding in the dimming light. She worked her way around the house, pulling weeds from around the foundation and deadheading roses from the three bushes on the side of the house. She ran her hand gently across one of the pink-and-cream-colored roses then let the silky petals caress her cheek. She breathed in the scent of strawberry taffy wafting from the flower. Rebecca didn’t have to force enthusiasm when she worked in the yard. She relished getting in the dirt and making things grow.

At the front of the house, Rebecca squeezed under the porch to eradicate the stubborn bindweed that constantly cropped up there. She flinched when she heard someone trudge up the stairs above her and knock on the door.

Firmly wedged into the small space, she kept weeding. Might as well stay and finish the job. Someone up there would hear the door and answer it.

The screen door creaked open. “Reuben. Hello.
Cum reu
, cum reu,” she heard her fater say.

Reuben. Reuben Yutzy? Marvin’s father?

“Nae,” said the man. “My boots are dirty. I stopped for a talk with you. Can we sit outside?”

She heard the men’s heavy steps above her as they tromped to the bench and sat. Should she say something? Call out that she was there, like a voice from space?

No use in suffering the embarrassment of emerging from the depths and interrupting their conversation. Besides, how long could it take? Still lots of weeds. She would make good use of the time while stuck under the porch.

Where Marvin Yutzy loved to linger over a story until his listeners fell asleep, his dat got right to the point. “There is a new housing development planned on the east side of La Crosse. Construction starts in two weeks. We want you to be on our crew.”

“Do you?” Fater said.

“It is close enough that we can come home every night.”

Rebecca forgot to breathe as the thought of Fater at home every night pressed down on her.

She heard Fater stand and take a few steps away from Reuben. He spoke slowly. “I have a gute job in Milwaukee.”

“This one in La Crosse is a gute job.”

“My work is steady, and it pays better than what you can find in La Crosse. I supervise five men.”

“But you are away from your home so much.”

Fater shuffled farther from Reuben and leaned his elbows on the porch railing. Rebecca could see his expressionless face through the wooden slats. “Why should you concern yourself with the time I am away from home?”

“We are thinking of your family.”

“Becky manages well.”

“Marvin is worried about her. He says her burden is very great.”

Marvin? Why did he care?
Rebecca almost groaned out loud. She knew exactly why he cared.

“The bishop and the ministers have discussed it,” Marvin’s dat added.

“Have you?” Fater said.

“Can we send someone over to help on the farm? Every day or two? Or pay for some of the medical expenses so Rebecca does not need to work another job?”

Fater’s voice rose, but he did not lose control of his temper. “The Millers do not need help. I am capable of taking care of my family.”

“Of course you are.”

Rebecca could sense Fater’s agitation as he paced around the small porch. “‘But if any provide not for his own, and specially for those of his own house, he hath denied the faith, and is worse than an infidel,’” he said. His favorite Scripture. He quoted it almost weekly.

Reuben stayed put on the bench but didn’t back down. “No one would ever in a hundred years claim that you do not provide for your own, Amos. But you have special circumstances here. Your wife is ill. She cannot work or even walk most days. You must pay for medicine and doctors. The burden of upkeep of house and farm falls on your eldest daughter.”

“She is able—”

“What will you do when she marries?”

A spider crawled across Rebecca’s hand. She held perfectly still.

“She is only nineteen,” Fater said.

“She is old enough.”

“She would not want to leave her mother.”

“I think she would not reject marriage to care for Erla,” Reuben said. “And Erla would not ask that sacrifice of her. Would you?”

A heavy pause. “I will cross that bridge when I come to it,” Fater said quietly.

Rebecca heard Reuben stand and move closer to Fater. “Will you accept help from your neighbors?”

“I have already told you, Reuben. I take care of my own family. Do not shame me by offering charity.”

A hint of chastisement crept into Reuben’s tone. “Perhaps you confuse shame with humility.”

“The Lord humbles me by afflicting my wife. I am sufficiently humble. I will not be humiliated.”

Rebecca listened to the crickets chirp as both men fell silent.

Finally, Reuben grunted and tromped down the steps. “We will see you at gmay Sunday?”

“Jah, Lord willing,” Fater said.

“Good evening to you, then.”


Auch vider sehen
, Reuben.”

Reuben, with hat in hand, took three steps and turned back. “Think about what I have said. ‘The Lord lifteth up the meek.’”

“Good evening, Reuben.”

Reuben didn’t have to be dismissed a third time. He donned his hat, hitched his thumbs around his suspenders, and ambled down the lane to his buggy. Fater lingered on the porch for a few minutes before resolutely turning and disappearing into the house.

Rebecca breathed a sigh of relief. She was ashamed to admit how grateful she was that Fater had a job in Milwaukee. Running the household by herself overwhelmed her some days, but truth be told, everyone was happier when Fater was away. He was right when he told Reuben that she could manage on her own. When Fater came home, he disrupted her routine and sent the siblings into fits. He yelled and demanded and carried on until they all wished he would stay away. Their life was hard, but it was easier without Fater’s interference.

BOOK: Rebecca's Rose
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