Rebecca's Promise (16 page)

There was silence.

“Matthew,” she whispered louder.

When there was still nothing, she walked over to his bed and shook his shoulder.

“Go away,” he muttered.

“It’s time to get up,” Rebecca said.

“I’m too tired,” he replied. “Go away.”

“If you don’t get up,” she said, still whispering, “Dad will have to holler for you.”

That produced a stirring under the covers. “I’ll be coming,” he said.

“You’d better be,” she told him. “Now get up!”

“Go away,” he repeated, but the covers kept on moving so she left, closing the door behind her.

She was almost to her room when she heard the familiar hiss of an approaching lantern. The door at the bottom of the stairs opened, allowing a shaft of light to brighten the stairs.

“Is Matthew up?” her father asked.

“Yes,” she said. “I just woke him.”

“Good,” he said, closing the door, returning the upstairs to a blessed darkness. Rebecca’s room was solid blackness except for the faint outline of the distant window. She felt for a match in the top drawer and lit the kerosene lamp. Noises across the hall assured her that Matthew was indeed up.

When, moments later, the boy’s door creaked open, followed by footsteps on the stairs, she was glad for it. Matthew was well on his way to carrying his share of the responsibilities. That would help everyone, including Rebecca.

When she went downstairs to head for the barn, Rebecca heard her mother in the kitchen. In the barn, she found Matthew sleepy eyed, but already hanging one of the milkers on the wire and waiting for Lester to bring in the cows.

“You have to feed them too,” she told him.

He grunted and moved toward the feed shoot. She held up her hand. “I’ll get it this morning. You can do it tomorrow morning just for practice. Starting Sunday night, it’s all yours.”

“Quit reminding me,” he said through a crooked glare, his one eye still pasted half shut.

Rebecca chuckled. “You’ll have to get used to these early hours.”

“It’ll come fast enough,” he said dryly. “Just be quiet and let me do my work.”

“I’ll be quiet if you do it right. If not, I’m going to let you know.”

He shook his head, too tired to bother with a response.

Rebecca went into the milk house for warm water to wash the cows’ udders, as the sound of their low bellows filled the barnyard.

By six thirty she left for the house, having sent Matthew in earlier. The smells of breakfast greeted her at the door. She caught sight of Matthew already at the table, looking hungrily at the food. A bowl of scrambled eggs sat in front of him, kept warm by the plate resting on top. If breakfast were delayed too many more minutes, Rebecca knew her mother would move them into the oven.

Biscuits, also ready and on the table, could stand a little cooling off, but those too would go back into the oven if Lester didn’t show up in a few minutes. The gravy bowl sat open, steaming heavily and ready to pour. Mattie was keeping her eye on the kitchen door.

“Your father coming?” she asked, looking in Rebecca’s direction.

“He’s right behind me, I think.” She glanced at the door about the time it opened.

“I’m sure hungry,” Matthew said loudly, hoping to make his father hurry.

“Good work makes for a good appetite,” Lester said, heading for the wash basin. “I’m coming.”

“Can I start now?” Matthew asked but did not receive an answer.
He knew good and well there was no starting until prayers had been said.

“Your father’s coming,” Mattie said, implying a little wait.

Lester dried his hands on a towel in the utility room and entered the kitchen to take his place at the table. Once there and without a word, they bowed their heads. It was early morning and silence was the chosen form of prayer, befitting the hour when man’s words should be few in the presence of his Maker.

“There’s a van across the way in Edna’s driveway,” Lester said for the benefit of anyone who was interested, as he waited for the scrambled eggs to reach him.

“Probably the load from Holmes County,” Rebecca said. “Edna’s brother is along.”

“Edna tell you that?” Mattie asked.

“Yes, when I took her the pie. He’s the one who got up the load.”

After they had made the rounds, Mattie set the bowl of eggs on her end of the table and placed the plate back over them. “I wasn’t told that, but it works out real well. They can pick you up right here on Saturday morning.”

Rebecca nodded, the reality of the trip becoming ever more apparent. “The sewing is this evening,” she said. “John’s going to be surprised when I tell him about my trip.”

“I suppose,” Mattie agreed. “He’ll understand.”

“Tell him you’re moving back to Milroy,” Lester said, straight-faced.

“Now, why would she want to do that?” Mattie asked…then smiled when she caught sight of his poker face. “He’s just teasing you, Rebecca.”

“I thought so,” Rebecca replied. “He just wants to make trouble.”

“Now why would I do that?” her father grinned. “Aren’t you having enough trouble as it is?”

Rebecca started at her dad’s words. In fact, she
was
having enough trouble dealing with that long-ago promise. She grabbed the biscuit
bowl and stuck it under Matthew’s nose. “Take another one,” she said.

“I’ve had enough. I still have half of one,” he protested, gently rubbing his stomach, “and I’m full already.”

“She’s just teasing you too,” his mother said, giving Rebecca a questioning look and letting it pass.

“They’re just having the normal problems,” Mattie said in Lester’s direction.

“It’s to be expected,” he said. “We do have good young people though. They do seek to walk in the will of God and church.”

“There’s
always
trouble with girls,” Matthew spouted off suddenly, his mouth full of his wisdom and the last of his biscuit. “I’m just going to leave them alone.”

“You just go ahead and do that,” Lester chuckled. “It’ll all come to pass for you soon enough. Things that can’t be helped.”

“I’m going to be
without
trouble,” Matthew pronounced. “I’m just going to do chores and make lots of money. That’s what comes from leaving girls alone.”

Rebecca lifted the biscuit bowl, pretending she was going to bring it down hard on his head. He never winced, as she stopped a hair’s breadth short.

Lester grinned and chided his son. “Well, you wouldn’t want to miss out on the good times, now would you?”

“There aren’t any,” he said wisely. “Girls just create a bother.”

“Now, now.” Mattie patted his head. “Take it easy. You’ll be going down that path soon enough. You’ll need all the help the good Lord can give you.”

“So why would I want to go down that path at all?” he asked.

“It’s just the way it is,” Mattie said. “The Lord so decreed it. So it will always be.”

“Maybe He’ll change His mind this time,” Matthew ventured.

“I doubt it,” she said. “It will all come in its own good time. Now stop thinking about it. It’s not good for you.”

“How’s school?” Lester asked, as Matthew scraped the bottom of his plate for the last of the gravy, then licked it off his fork.

“It’s okay,” he said. “This is Fannie’s first year teaching. She doesn’t know much.”

“Watch your mouth,” Rebecca told him sharply.

“It’s true,” he protested. “She has a hard time explaining my arithmetic problems. She doesn’t see the whispering that goes on. It’s hard to study with that.”

Lester and Mattie looked at each other, raising their eyebrows. Children were children they knew, but new teachers needed instructions sometimes too.

“If there’s any problem, I’m sure it’ll be taken care of,” Mattie assured him. “In the meantime, make sure you mind and do your work well. We want you to get good grades.”

Matthew nodded his head, yawning sleepily. “I’d better get ready for school,” he said.

“You still have time,” Mattie told him, turning to Rebecca. “Call the rest of the children. You can start with the dishes then.”

Rebecca did that from the bottom of the stairs, waiting to repeat the call if there was no noise from her sisters’ room. The shuffling of feet on the wood floor was what she was waiting for. Leaving the stair door open, she went back to the table to pick up a handful of dishes and carry them to the sink.

Matthew was slowly sliding out of his bench seat when she came back for more. She whispered to him, “Bring those math problems home. I’ll see if I can help you with them.”

“You would?” he asked, raising his sleepy eyes slightly.

“Sure.”

He frowned, thinking about it, his mind refusing to function at full strength. “I might,” he said, coming to the end of the bench and standing up, “if it gets too hard.”

She nodded as the rest of the family came down the stairs and Matthew moved quickly to get out of the way. Then, while her mother
oversaw their breakfast, she washed and dried the dishes they had used so far.

“What’s on the list for me to do while you’re at the sewing?” Rebecca asked when she was done.

Mattie thought for a moment. “Have you got your packing done?”

“As much as I can,” she replied. “Wash day is tomorrow. I can’t really get packed much before that.”

“What if it rains tomorrow?” Mattie asked herself as much as anyone.

“I can move wash day to Friday,” Rebecca suggested.

“I suppose so,” her mother agreed. “In that case, why not start with the week’s cleaning of the upstairs? Your room can be done Friday before you leave. The others can be done today.”

“Anything else?” Rebecca asked.

“You can decide that for yourself. Just do whatever will help me out next week when you’re not here.”

Silence then fell between them as the flurry of the day began. The school children had to be sent off to school, the rest of the dishes needed to be washed and dried, and then Mattie herself would have to leave for the sewing.

Rebecca offered to harness the horses, which her mother accepted. While she was out in the barn, Matthew came out to hitch his horse to the buggy. At eight thirty, she helped the children climb into the buggy with Matthew. He drove the new single buggy Lester had purchased just last year for these occasions when both the school children and family needed transportation. By nine o’clock Mattie was in the old single seater on her way to sewing.

T
hat evening John pulled into the Mullet place, a smile playing on his face. He was going to see Rebecca again. The warmer weather had turned a little brisk, but he still had his buggy door open to enjoy the evening. It seemed like ages since Sunday when he had asked her to be his wife.

She said yes,
he remembered.
Can it be that it was only on Sunday?
“That it was,” he said out loud, bringing his horse to a stop by the barn. All around him were other buggies, some still being unhitched, others already parked neatly in two rows.

With more buggies behind him, the rows would soon be getting longer. He pulled his horse to a stop, turned the wheel slightly, and hopped out.