Rebekah's Quilt (15 page)

The sounds and smells of breakfast being prepared met her on the stairs. With her project draped over her arm, she took the first steps into her life as the new and improved, but still a work-in-progress, Rebekah Stoll.

She hovered in the kitchen doorway, savoring the sight before her. None of her brother’s had made it downstairs yet, or if some had, they were already out in the barn deep in their chores. Samuel had moved Beanie’s cradle downstairs and the baby, still tinted slightly yellow, lay shirtless in the window, soaking up the rays of sunshine. Elnora was slicing the cinnamon-filled dough for breakfast rolls while Samuel hefted wood into the cook stove.

Please Lord, give me the words.

“Good morning Ma. Pa.” Rebekah’s greeting seemed to fill the expanse that was their kitchen. Elnora froze, as did Samuel.

Laying the slicing knife to the side, Elnora slowly turned. Rebekah noticed at once her red-rimmed eyes and rosy nose. Samuel turned too, his eyes red-rimmed as well.

“I have something to say to both of you,” Rebekah began. Surprisingly, her voice didn’t sound meek, but confident. “I was wrong to speak to you in such a manner. To accuse you and resent you. I was wrong. I asked God for forgiveness, now I’m asking for yours.”

Elnora’s lower lip began to tremble as she held her arms out wide. “Come here, Daughter.”

Rushing into her mother’s waiting arms; Rebekah felt the same peace as she had the night before. A moment later, Samuel’s strong embrace encircled them both.

“I love you both, I am sorry I was angry at you … all you did was love me.” Despite the peace, a fresh cascade of healing tears spilled from her eyes. Her mother’s frame shook with quiet sobs, as well.

With a sniffle, Samuel was the first to release from the group hug. “We prayed, too. Your mother and I should have told you the truth sooner, and almost did on many occasions.” He glanced at Elnora, who stepped back from the hug and dabbed at her soggy cheeks with a hanky. “But we simply never did.”

“We tried to do right by you, Daughter, raise you no different than our boys.” Elnora reached one thin hand to Rebekah. She took it. “But you are different.”

Rebekah nodded. “Now that I know I am English, I will learn to embrace it.”

Elnora smiled that knowing smile that only a mother can produce. “Darling girl. That is not what I meant. You’re different because you’re our eldest child and our only girl. You, my dear, are our little miracle.”

Rebekah had been expecting to be reminded that she was indeed of English blood, but Elnora’s words left her shocked. Humble, simple love of the purest form filled her heart for her mother, her father, and her people.

“I love you Ma, Pa.” Rebekah lifted the finished quilt and held it out before her. “I finished it last night, Ma.”

The squares were uneven and jagged, held together by awkward stitches. The border was larger in some places than others, and the whole conglomeration wasn’t so much square as it was sort of oval. The filling was oddly-placed and the backing, well, the backing was comprised of three different colors of fabric instead of one uniform one, like Elnora’s.

She studied her parent’s reactions as they in turn, studied her quilt-like product.

“This quilt is me,” Rebekah whispered. “Not perfect, not by a long shot. But it is filled with memories, love, and lots and lots of try.”

A tear dripped from the corner of Elnora’s eye. “Daughter, it is beautiful. I am so proud of you for finishing it.” A crooked smile lit her face.

“I’d like to give it to my newest little brother, since it was the first article to touch him as he arrived here in our home.”

Elnora nodded, stepping forward to retrieve the heartfelt gift. “Thank you, Daughter.” Moving lightly, she draped the quilt over the end of his cradle. “I’ll wrap him in it when he’s finished his sun bath.”

Elnora and Samuel exchanged a look. “We love you, Rebekah” Elnora said. “We always will, no matter if you choose to stay with us or go back with Peter to the English.”

Rebekah’s eyes widened. Had she neglected to mention the best part of her decision? “Oh Ma, I’m not going anywhere! This is my home, I’ll never leave!”

A sigh escaped Elnora’s lips as her free hand fluttered to her belly. “Thank you, Lord,” she whispered. “Thank you for this being your will.”

With a contagious grin, Rebekah skipped toward the back door. “I can’t wait to tell my brothers,” she said, her voice light.

Samuel stepped toward her. “Rebekah, the boys have gone down to the lake to fish. Thomas wanted fish for lunch.”

“Alright Pa, I’ll go down and find them.” She placed her hand on the doorknob.

“What about Joseph,” Samuel asked, his normally robust voice muted.

Rebekah could feel her eyes sparkling as she tipped her face back to her Pa. “He told me he loved me, Pa, even when he knew I was English!”

“What did you say?”

Her surge of enthusiasm ebbed at the presentation of this question. “Oh Pa, I told him I couldn’t love him if I didn’t love myself, and that I wasn’t even sure of who I was. Then when I turned, he was gone.”

Elnora’s voice was hushed. “Do you still feel that way, child?”

“No Ma, I don’t.”

Elnora studied her daughter. “How do you feel now?”

A grin parted Rebekah’s lips. “I love him, Ma. I always have. I always will.”

“Then perhaps you should go tell him,” Samuel suggested. “No doubt those words stung, and as you now know, it hurts you when you hurt those you love.”

Rebekah nodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps I’ll take him a cinnamon cake. That is his favorite too, you know.” She kept her tone light, trying to mask the worry she felt deep in her stomach.
What if he’s moved on? Or decided his feelings weren’t as true as he’d hoped?

With expert hands, Rebekah mixed the ingredients for her favorite cake. She’d make this particular recipe so often that she knew the measurements by heart and could pour them precisely by hand, without the aid of a measuring device.

“Put yours in to bake first, Rebekah,” Elnora offered, setting the plate of cinnamon rolls on the counter. “I’ll mix the icing for these in the meantime.”

Rebekah slid the pan into the oven. “Thank you, Ma. I’ll go change and be right back down.”

Taking the stairs two at a time, Rebekah’s heart galloped in her chest as she rummaged through her sparse selection of dresses.
Hurry Rebekah, hurry and go promise your love to Joseph!

Choosing a plain black dress, she tossed her slightly grubby green one against the wall. Once dressed, she fastened the matching cape about her shoulders. “I’d better get a fresh covering, too.” With a gentle fling, her dingy covering joined her dirty dress on the floor. Gathering her soiled duds, Rebekah made a run through each of the rooms, adding dirty clothes to her pile. A covering lay on the bed in her parent’s room, a pair of britches shoved into the far corner in the older boys’ room. Then, in the little boys’ room, she hit the mother lode. Socks were scattered beneath the beds and shirts were wadded up under the covers.

Rebekah let the grin grow until she felt the ache in her cheeks. “I love you, boys,” she said, gathering the little articles and stacking them on her arm. She dropped the laundry into the large, metal washtub that sat in the cubby outside her quilting room.

Dashing back down the stairs, the intoxicating scent of baking cinnamon wafted from the kitchen.

“Just in time,” Elnora announced. Leaning, she pulled the fluffy cake from the oven. “Now, in go my cinnamon rolls.”

“Thank you, Ma.” Rebekah stepped to admire her cake.
Joseph doesn’t care much for frosting, so I’ll leave it dry. I like it better that way, too
.

Elnora held out a square of cheesecloth. “Won’t you take it to him now?” Her eyes sparkled beneath her black covering. “The sooner the better, I always say.”

Butterflies flitted in her stomach as she accepted the cheesecloth and draped it over the cake. “Oh Ma, it’s still too warm to carry.”

Elnora pulled open the drawer. “Here,” she extended two thick pads to her. “I made these after your father burnt the other ones by leaving them on the stove.”

She could almost hear her heartbeat in her ears as she accepted the hot pads. Scooping up her cake, she stepped out the door Elnora already held open. “God’s will be done, Child,” she whispered. “
Gelassenheit.”

The trek to the Graber’s homestead took much longer than Rebekah remembered. Then again, she didn’t make the journey much because it seemed Joseph was always coming to her.

“
I wonder if he was this nervous when he came to pick me up for the festival
,” Rebekah wondered. “
No wonder he looked so out of sorts when he arrived.
” She sighed.

Things were so much clearer now; Rebekah wished she could have simply accepted the truth of her past without having to put everyone she loved through all this rigmarole.

Finally, the Graber homestead came into view. Quietness hung over the place that Rebekah could almost feel. She shuddered. That certainly wasn’t a familiar feeling.

Taking each step carefully so as not to fumble her cake, Rebekah was surprised when the front door opened before she even knocked.

Lucas stood there, his lips drawn into a thin line. His wide blue eyes, the ones that always seem to be dancing with some untold joke or josh, were subdued. “
Hallo
, Rebekah.”

She bit her lower lip. “
Hallo
, Mr. Graber. Is Joseph here?”

Lucas shook his head infinitesimally. “He came by for a moment and told us about Peter. Then he left. I’ve not seen my boy since.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway.

A hot knot rose into Rebekah’s throat, making it hard to breathe. Heat crept into her cheeks and the fluffy cake suddenly seemed awkward and unnecessary.

“Can I, um,
may
I, leave this for when he gets – er for when Joseph gets – comes home?” She couldn’t meet Mr. Grabers’ eyes.

“Sure.” He reached to take it from her.

“Thank you.”

Mr. Graber nodded.

An odd feeling of being unwelcome pushed Rebekah down the stairs and out into the path. She turned and started toward home, but turned back. With her mouth open as if to speak, she simply stared at Mr. Graber. He nodded.

Without uttering a sound, Rebekah began the long walk home.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Rebekah clutched her cape around her as she ascended the stairs onto her front porch. The wind had turned chilly and fluffy white clouds to the east had grown dark.

Elnora and Sarah Wagler were visiting in the sitting room when Rebekah walked in.

Sarah rose and strode across the floor, her arms wide. Rebekah hugged her.

Pulling back, Sarah spoke. “We’ve decided to have a Bible study, here, this Wednesday. Your Ma and I decided everyone could bring an dish and we could make an evening of it. Will you make one of your delicious cinnamon cakes?”

Forcing a smile, Rebekah nodded. “I would be honored, thank you.”

“Good.” With a hearty pat on the arm, Sarah retreated to her seat. “Now Elnora, we have lots of planning to do.”

The old friends huddled together, their companionship easy and natural, as Beanie squeaked from the cradle.

Too antsy to sit still or be cooped in the house, Rebekah climbed the stairs.
What to do, what to do
. Her room was tidy, her quilt was finished and she wasn’t keen on starting another just yet. Worried thoughts of Joseph kept flitting into her mind, but she forced them back.

He’s fine, Rebekah. Maybe he needed to go off alone like I did.

Spying the glinting object at the end of the upstairs hall, Rebekah skipped to retrieve the washtub of dirty laundry she’d collected earlier. The large bar of lye soap was on its special shelf, right above the bucket. She plucked it up and dropped it into the clothes.

“I’m running to the river to get this laundry done, Ma!” Rebekah called as she skipped out the back door.

Sarah’s excited voice met her ears instead. “Oh Elnora, this is going to be the most delicious Bible study of the year! 1888 is a wonderful year for food!”