Rebecca's Rose (31 page)

The lump in Levi’s throat rendered him mute. He nodded.

Nathaniel took one look at Levi’s face and the eternal smile left him. “You are serious,” he said. “How do you know Rebecca?”

Levi took a deep breath. “It’s too long a story for a groom on his wedding day.”

Nathaniel studied Levi’s face. “She’s broken your heart, hasn’t she?” He closed his eyes and massaged his forehead. “I know how that feels, and I never want to go there again.”

“This is a very bad topic for your wedding day.”

Nathaniel saw the bride almost before she walked into the room, like he had some sort of radar only for her. He smiled sadly at Levi. “I want to help,” he said. “When I get back from visiting relatives in Ohio, we will talk.”

Unconvinced, Levi inclined his head as he watched Nathaniel resume his orbit around his wife.

You can’t help me, Nathaniel. No one can.

February second. Groundhog Day. The snow fell in bushels all night, burying the farm’s already-deep layer of snow in still more snow. Rebecca watched from the window in the dismal light of dawn as Max and Danny tried to make a path up the sidewalk with their oversized shovels. A full scoop of the wet snow probably weighed thirty pounds. Max stuffed a handful of snow down Danny’s back, and Rebecca heard his screams muffled through the window.

Most likely, today the groundhog wouldn’t even come out of his hole long enough to be scared away by his shadow. It didn’t matter. Rebecca held no hope for an early spring. Winter would probably last until May, followed by a scorching-hot summer and a miserable, soggy autumn. Why did anyone want to live in Wisconsin?

Rebecca wrapped her shawl around her shoulders as she tended the pancakes on the griddle. The woodstove in the basement had started smoking something terrible this morning, and Rebecca dared not stoke a fire. The house seemed almost as cold as the outdoors. Mamm would have to be moved to the front room near the fireplace if the old cast-iron stove wasn’t up and running soon.

She glanced at the thermometer hanging outside the kitchen window. Fifteen degrees. Jah, that stove must be fixed right quick.

Rebecca carried Mamm’s breakfast into her bedroom. Mamm lay wrapped in her quilt, shivering quietly.

“The stove is smoking again,” Rebecca said.

“I should have known. It’s freezing.”

“I started a fire in the fireplace. Max will fetch Menno Glick as soon as he and Danny clear a path.”

“Jah. I think I will go to the front room. Will you help me up?”

Rebecca placed the breakfast tray on the side table and took her mother’s hand. It was cold as ice. “I will make up a bed for you right by the fire.”

Max knocked then stuck his head in the room. “I found someone to fix the stove,” he said, avoiding Rebecca’s eyes.

“Already? Good work.”

Rebecca followed him to the entryway, where Levi Cooper stood smiling sheepishly and holding a red rose.

She glared at Max.

“He was passing by,” Max whispered. “You want the stove fixed, don’t you?”

Levi didn’t take his eyes from her face. She saw such tenderness in his expression that she almost ran into his arms. She knew she would find comfort there. Comfort from the sorrow of losing Dottie Mae and losing him. Comfort from the miserable chore that was her life.

Rebecca cleared the lump in her throat. She didn’t need comfort. She needed a good kick in the
hinnerdale
.

Levi held out the rose, and she took it out of reflex and tossed it onto the sofa.

“I was walking to work,” he said. “Max said you needed help.”

Max nodded. “You are persistent to deliver roses in this weather.”

“How is the shoulder?” Levi asked.

“Healed fine,” Rebecca replied.

“What can I do?”

“We—our stove is smoking something awful,” Rebecca said, prying her gaze from Levi’s handsome face and turning quickly on her heels. “In the basement.”

Both Levi and Max followed her down the steep stairs. Rebecca felt the sting of embarrassment that Levi should see the poor condition of the basement, even though she tried not to care. The bare cement floor was riddled with cracks and holes, and cobwebs floated in the air like dandelion parachutes. An unruly pile of coal spread itself in the corner. And the mildew smell wouldn’t disappear, no matter how much bleach Rebecca swabbed the floor with.

Levi didn’t seem to notice anything amiss with the room. Holding the lantern Max had given him, he silently studied the stove. He ran his fingers carefully over the top and around the flue and its joints. Squatting at the front, he opened and closed the door and checked the seal around the edges. Rebecca loved watching those capable hands—the shape of his long fingers, the veins that pulsed under the skin, the muscles flexing up his arms. Levi seemed to know what needed to be done simply by touching something.

“It’s an old stove,” he said, looking at Rebecca with concern. “Years past its expiration date.”

“We cannot afford—”

Levi smiled at her. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I can fix it, but we’ll have to light a fire to check for leaks. Do you have something to block the light from the windows? The room needs to be completely dark.”

Rebecca tromped upstairs and pulled two old blankets out of the closet. When she returned, Levi and Max had the stove filled with newspaper and kindling.

Tuesday had been her last day in the sling, but her shoulder still felt sore as she strained on tiptoes to stuff the bulky blanket into the small window nearest the stove.

As she struggled, she felt Levi’s warm hands cover hers and his breath on her cheek. “Here, let me,” he said.

Trembling, she backed away as he took the blankets and, with his superior height, easily smothered the first window and then the second.

The room went black except for the small lantern in Max’s hand. Levi lit a match, and the fire danced on the newspaper before spreading to the kindling. He shut the door and held the lantern close to the flue. Rebecca heard the fire crackle in the stove and smelled the burning hickory.

Holding the lantern aloft, Levi concentrated intently on the stove. Rebecca could see the muscles in his arm and shoulder rippling under his shirt. She felt the familiar, tortuous tug on her heart. Why hadn’t Max fetched old Menno Glick to fix the stove instead of the boy she was trying to forget, the boy who was so hard to shake from her soul?

“There it is,” Levi said, holding the lantern higher. “Do you see it?”

The beam of light illuminated a continuous puff of smoke coming from the top flue.

“Easy to fix,” he said. “Oh, wait—look.” He pointed to another spot farther down the stovepipe that also emitted a steady stream of smoke. “Two leaks.”

He pulled a pen out of his pocket and marked the flue then pulled the blankets from the windows before saying, “Max, will you put out the fire?”

His hand brushed against her arm as he handed her the blankets. She determined to ignore the sensation.

“If you don’t mind,” he said, in perfect mildness, “I’ll get what I need from the toolshed.”

“I don’t mind.”

When Levi returned to the basement, Danny came with him. Levi worked a full hour on the stove while Rebecca’s brothers watched. He explained his repairs to both Max and Danny, so they could fix it next time. Rebecca could tell the minute he lit the fire in the repaired stove. The house warmed up immediately.

Then, true to form, Levi slipped outside and spent another hour in the cold, chopping wood. Rebecca kept to the kitchen as her brothers paraded through the back door and down the steps, their arms laden with logs. Max and Danny hauled enough wood into the basement to last the rest of the winter.

When he finished, Levi tapped on the back door. Rebecca ushered him into the warm kitchen.

“I’d better get to the shop,” he said, wiping drops of sweat from his face. “Nathaniel is back from Ohio, and he’ll wonder why I am late on his first day home.”

Rebecca heard Mamm shuffle in from the front room. She put her arm around Rebecca’s waist. “Levi, you are a blessing to us. My husband will know how kind you have been. Thank you.”

Levi frowned and hung his head. “I hope your husband knows that I mean no disrespect by coming here. He forbade me from working on the farm until I am baptized. I want to honor his wishes. Hopefully he will understand that today was an emergency.”

Rebecca didn’t know what to say. Why did he have to be so perfect? Perfect except for that one glaring flaw that made him impossible to love.

“Oh, posh!” Mamm said. “My husband will sing your praises to the sky when he finds out.”

“I will stop by tonight to make sure it’s still working,” Levi said.

“No need,” Rebecca said. “We will be fine.”

She might as well have told him that his entire family was dead. The hurt flashed in his eyes before his expression went hard. “Okay, then. I’m glad I could help.” Giving her one last glance, he put on his hat and walked out the back door.

Mamm squeezed her closer. “He doesn’t deserve that, Rebecca.”

“We don’t need him, Mamm.”

“Only if we want to freeze to death.”

Rebecca put her arm around her mamm and led her back to the front room. “It was nice of him to come,” she admitted.

“He sacrificed two hours of wages, and he deserves a little kindness from you,” Mamm said.

“Dottie Mae is dead because of him.”

Mamm furrowed her brow and studied Rebecca’s face with concern. “Cannot you offer forgiveness to the poor boy?”

“Let him bring Dottie Mae back, and then I will forgive him.”

Mamm lowered herself to the sofa and pulled Rebecca with her. “This bitterness is making you miserable.”

Rebecca frowned. “Why does everyone think I am so unhappy?”

Kate and Miriam had noticed at the wedding. Frieda Yoder thought she looked pale, and even Marvin had asked her doubtfully if she was having a good time.

She should have done a better job of burying her feelings. Mamm couldn’t help her, and no one could possibly understand her pain. Her world had gone cold and dark, like a barren, rocky wasteland never touched by the sun. She was convinced that if she sat perfectly still, she would freeze to death.

She wanted to remember the sunlight—to close her eyes and soak up the warmth on her face.

Then, as quickly as the thought came, she chided herself for giving in to weakness. The summer heat would never lull her into complacency again. Levi had burst into her life like a brilliant star, warming everything he touched with the gift of spring. But those who played with fire got burned. Better to stay in her icy cocoon than be consumed by the heat.

“Do I give you reason to believe that I am unhappy, Mamm? Do I mope around the house, crying my eyes out?”

“You never cry. I haven’t seen you cry since Dottie Mae’s funeral.”

Of course not. Those tears didn’t bring Dottie Mae back. “Crying is a luxury.”

“Crying means you’re not afraid to show your heart.”

“I’m not afraid of anything.”

“Nae, you are always so brave.” The familiar look of resignation flitted across Mamm’s face. She sighed and looked out the window. “I think the house is warm enough now. Will you take me back to bed?”

Luke Miller—no relation to Rebecca—slapped his knee and abruptly stood up. “The whistling must stop.”

“Ach, was I doing it again?” Nathaniel said, scratching his chin and fingering the short whiskers of his new beard. “Sorry.”

Luke curled his lips into a pained grimace. “I hoped that once you got married, you’d give up the constant cheerfulness.”

“He’s only been back a week,” Zeke said.

“The cheerfulness will never be over,” Nathaniel replied, grinning like a fool.

“The whistling had better cease soon, or you will have to cart me off to an institution,” Luke said.

Levi looked up in curious amusement. Luke found something to complain about almost every day at work. If it wasn’t Nathaniel’s whistling, it was Zeke’s tracking mud on the floor with his boots or Adam’s walking in and out and letting all the warm air escape the shop.

“Bring some earplugs next time,” Zeke said. “It’s his place. The man can whistle if he wants to.”

While he finished tightening the screws on the cabinet door, Levi thought of Nathaniel and wondered if he himself would ever be that happy. It all depended on Rebecca, and that prospect looked bleaker and bleaker with each passing day.

Nathaniel looked Levi’s way, smiled, and shrugged. Not even Luke’s sour disposition could mar Nathaniel’s perfect bliss.

He came over to inspect Levi’s work. “Have a problem?” he said.

“The last of the screws is in.”

“You look as if you needed some help,” Nathaniel said.

“Nae, it’s ready to finish up.”

Nathaniel slapped his forehead. “Ach, I forgot about you and Kate’s cousin. Some friend I am.”

“You’ve been preoccupied.”

“I should never be that preoccupied.” Nathaniel pulled two chairs together and invited Levi to sit. “I don’t mean to offend you, but you look miserable. Is this for Kate’s cousin?”

Levi couldn’t answer. For some reason, his throat chose that very moment to tighten up.

“How are you adjusting to Amish life?”

“It is harder than I thought. I feel like I’m back in first grade, asking for help because I don’t even know how to tie my shoes.”

“I thought you could fix anything.”

“I can usually figure out mechanical things, but I have yet to grasp the details of being Amish, like where to buy propane or who to call for a ride or how to butcher a pig. Those are beyond my abilities.”

“No one minds lending a hand,” Nathaniel said.

“I know, but I hate to impose like that. I want to be able to take care of myself and my mom, not depend on people who are already busy enough with their own lives.”

“The Englisch are busy. The Amish don’t look at life that way. Your work is my work,” Nathaniel said.

Levi shook his head and frowned. “I wish I didn’t need the help, that’s all.”

“Did your mamm find a job?”

“Jah, no problem there. There’s a lady in Patton who needs twenty-four-hour care in her home. It’s the closest thing to nursing Mom can do without being a nurse. The pay is good. Not as good as a nurse, but okay. We’re saving up for a house.”