Rebecca's Promise (14 page)

“Oh, it’s all too much to ask,” Edna told her. “There aren’t that many chores anyway. Harold just sees that the horse and cow are fed. I half think I could still do them myself except on snowy days like this.”

“If you need help some Sunday morning, do let us know,” Rebecca told her.

“Ach! That’s not necessary yet. Your mother send something over?”

“A pecan pie,” Rebecca said, lifting the lid so Edna could take a peek.

“Oh my! A pecan pie,” she proclaimed. “The Lord must have made those the very first day He worked, to help Himself along the rest of the week.”

“You think so?” Rebecca chuckled, used to Edna’s ventures into theology.

“Well! You never know,” Edna allowed. “They are sure good. Did you make them today?”

“Just out of the oven,” Rebecca told her. “Mom didn’t have time on Saturday to make enough for all week. We had to catch up today.”

“Yes. That’s how it used to be,” Edna said, a faraway look in her eyes.

Rebecca ventured, “Mom thought maybe you could use the pie for your visitors this week.”

“Well! I guess I could,” Edna allowed. “I suppose they won’t think I can’t do my own work anymore. It certainly would help out.”

“Mom wants me to go to Leona’s this Saturday.”

“Oh! A baby?” Edna guessed.

“Yes. It’s due next week. The latter part, I think.”

“How are you going?”

“Mom said there’s a load coming through from Holmes County. They’re going on out to Milroy Saturday morning. It might be the same people you are getting.”

“Yes, it could be.” Edna’s face brightened. “My brother Mose is along. Wants to come out and visit. He and his wife Elsie. Then they go on to our sister in Milroy.”

“Who are the others?” Rebecca wanted to know.

“I’m not sure,” Edna said. “Mose got up the load. So probably folks with relatives or connections in both places.”

“Well,” Rebecca drew in her breath and said, “I must be going. It’s already past choring time.”

“Matthew helping out yet?” Edna asked, as they stepped toward the door.

“Just starting,” Rebecca replied. “He’ll get broken in next week when I’m gone.”

“That’s good,” Edna said. “Learning to work must never be lost.
It keeps a man or woman close to their God. The young ones should learn that as soon as possible.”

“It’s hard sometimes, though.”

“No one said it wasn’t,” Edna agreed. “Just necessary.”

“It does seem so,” Rebecca allowed, opening the door and stepping outside. “Enjoy the pecan pie.”

“Yes. I will,” Edna assured her. “Tell your mother thanks.”

“Okay,” Rebecca replied, walking quickly down the driveway and then up the hill. She picked up the slop bucket at the chicken coop and deposited it on the kitchen doorstep, not bothering to go inside. Then she headed out to the barn to milk, thinking that Matthew would be glad to see her coming.

S
tepping out of the post office, Luke got into his buggy and headed home, his head full of happy thoughts. Always before, he had kept thoughts of girls at a distance. Now though, it felt like the floodgates had opened, the waters pushing hard downstream.

The snow was slowing. His horse flicked its ears to get the last flakes off, jerking its head down as far as the reining strap allowed to complete the job.

So he would finally be having a girl, other than his sister, in his buggy.
Nearly twenty,
he told himself in surprise, now that he thought of it.
I should have done this a long time ago.

How old is Susie?
he suddenly wondered. He did some calculations, concluding she was also twenty.
A few months younger though,
he added quickly. That was important to him. Older would not do. Vague images appeared in his mind—her wrinkled face—while his hair was still black, her walking with a cane while he was still throwing out the hay by hand.

He pushed those thoughts away. She was not older than he was. “So why is she not taken already?” he wondered out loud. “Twenty’s old already for an Amish girl.” Running his memory again, he recalled no time when he heard of her ever having had a date.
That’s strange,
he thought.
I wonder why? Was she waiting for me?
He smiled at that thought, slapping the reins to get more speed on the back road.

He continued smiling to himself, letting thoughts run through his mind of Susie turning down wildly handsome prospects in her wait for
him. No, that was hardly the reason. She was simply plain looking, he decided. That likely had as much to do with it as anything.

That thought didn’t faze him as much as he supposed it should.
What good was a good-looking girl if she didn’t like you? Not a lot,
he supposed. There was no sense in pursuing what couldn’t be caught. Anyway, Susie suited him just fine. “As sweet as the morning’s dew,” he muttered, a phrase from somewhere he couldn’t recall. Yes, that was what it was.

Then the same force that released him in Susie’s direction now drove him past her. Pushing at him like a train on the tracks rolling across the open fields of Indiana, the thoughts came unbidden and forceful.
Wouldn’t money make a big difference in the consideration of the type of girl I wanted?
He pondered the question, letting it drive him upright on the seat of the buggy.

He ran it through his mind.
Did money have anything to do with me asking Susie out?
The answer was “Yes.” Without a doubt it had everything to do with where he was now. Could it then go even further? The more he thought about it, the more certain he became, and the more certain he became, the more the thought took a hold of him.
Why not get a beautiful girl, now that I have money, or the near certainty of it?

Nervous at the very notion, he let the thoughts continue. Thoughts that were to him unholy and blasphemous ran unchecked through his mind. Ones he would never have gone close to before were like horses set free from the barn after a long hard winter, kicking their heels in excitement. Visions of girls, good-looking ones, their heads turning in his direction, smiling at him, self-consciously brushing their stray hairs back under their head coverings when he walked by, played in his mind.

Then fear struck as a strong feeling of unease gripped him, and he brushed his forehead with his gloved hand. What was he doing, thinking this stuff? Must God Himself not be angry, real angry with him?

Then another thought struck him like a blow to his chest.
What if Susie knew about the money?
The horror of the thought went all the way through him, but surely that was not possible.
How could Susie know I will come into money soon?

Then he knew that it
was
very possible. She
could
know. She could know quite well. It was widely known that Emma had received all of the inheritance, her brother having left it all to her, and now her health very questionable. She could die soon, and everyone knew it. And certainly everyone, including Susie’s family, knew Emma had three farms, free and clear. From there the conclusion any reasonable person could have was that when Emma died, she would be passing the farms and her money to immediate family.

So Susie might have been waiting for me because of this.
His joy gone, he now stared blankly at the snow through his buggy’s storm front. Feeling an ache in his back, he shifted on his seat.

“Confounded money,” he said out loud. “A blessing and curse,” he added, quoting something from memory but not sure from where.
Surely she doesn’t know.
He stared at the snow again.
Then why had she been waiting so long?

“Because she’s plain,” he shouted, causing his horse to jump, double its speed, and throw him back against the seat. Amusement hit him as he clutched the reins.
I am really being stupid, that’s what I am. So what if she’s seeing me for the money, which she probably isn’t?

He let the memory of her eyes at the post office return, and decided finally that she was not. The longer he thought on it, the more sure he became.

But she was
plain.

There
were
prettier Amish girls he knew. And shouldn’t he think more about them? There would always be Susie.

I should keep my options open until I’m actually married,
he told himself. Yes, he would keep his options open. In the meantime there was no reason to deprive himself of Susie’s company on Sunday night and in the weeks to come. The experience would be beneficial, if for no
other reason. Having dated someone before was not a stigma against you, provided you were the one who quit. That he would be the one, if it came to that, he had no doubt.

Plus Susie’s sweet,
he thought, the smile returning to his face.

Slapping the reins, he urged his horse on for the last few hundred yards to his parents’ driveway. It would look better to be moving fast when he approached home. Not that his father would say much about speed, but his mother might.

“Time spent poking on the road is time wasted,” she had told him often.

That it was, he was sure, slapping the reins again for good measure.

The snow had quit completely as he pulled into the driveway. Stopping at the barn, he unhitched the horse and took it inside. Luke then pushed the buggy under the lean-to, making sure the doors were both shut. With the wind blowing, it could easily move snow inside, especially overnight.

Not seeing his father around, he walked toward the house and entered by the utility room door. Leaving his coat and boots, he opened the kitchen door and felt a wave of heat greet him. His mother must have supper on the way.

“Hi,” he said, before he even got halfway through.

“Shut the door,” his mother said, bending over the oven. “It’s cold outside.”

He grunted his acknowledgment, closing the door gently behind him.

“So how was Emma?”

“Same as always,” he replied, not feeling like volunteering anything more.

“Did you see anything unusual?”

“No…and there were no visitors. It was snowing,” he said.

“Did you have a chance to ask about the car in her driveway the other day?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “Tried the best I could. She wouldn’t give me any information. Just said it was someone she had asked to come out to the farm.”

Rachel sighed, “It never was going to be easy. I knew that from the start. We just have to do what we can.”

“She gave me an envelope to mail at the post office,” he said. What he had done might as well be dealt with here and now.

There was no response from the stove as his mother carefully lifted the casserole out, heading to the surface of the stove.

“It was addressed to a lawyer’s office in Anderson,” he said nervously.

The casserole clattered down heavily, its hot contents spilling over the edge. She turned to him, eyes gleaming.

“You didn’t mail it, did you?”

“Sure. I had to,” he said, struggling to keep his gaze from dropping to the table. “I work for Emma.”

“You checked what was inside first?” she stated more than asked.

“No,” he said, hanging his head in shame.

“You mean you had a chance like that and didn’t open the envelope?” she said, her voice low. “What did I just tell you this morning? If you didn’t have enough nerve to open it, why didn’t you bring it home to me? You could have mailed it tomorrow. Gone back this afternoon even.”

“Maybe I should have,” he admitted, “but I just didn’t.”

“I’m ashamed of you,” she said, her voice still low.

“It won’t happen again,” he said. “If I ever get another chance, I won’t pass it up.”

“You realize how serious this is?” she asked, her eyes full on him. “Our money may be gone forever if Emma foolishly follows my father’s example.”

“Surely she won’t.” He raised his eyes.

“She had better not,” she said, putting her hands on her hips and facing Luke. “I can’t believe you’d pass up an opportunity like that. This had better never happen again.”

“It won’t,” he said, with images of Susie or even someone else somehow coming to mind. “I’ll open it next time. That, or bring it to you.”