Rebekah's Quilt (17 page)

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Authors: Sara Barnard

Tags: #Amish, #Romance, #Fiction, #novella

BOOK: Rebekah's Quilt
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Lifting her hand to her covering, she slipped it off and let it fall into the water. From the corner of her eye, she could see Joseph watching her, but couldn’t judge his reaction. It was custom that an Amish woman not be seen by anyone other than her husband without her covering. Taking a stick, she swirled it around in the warm water. “Here, we can use this.”

Careful not to make eye contact with either Peter or Joseph, she held the dripping covering out to him on the stick.

Pulling one hand out of the water, Peter took the stick. “Many thanks.” He studied it a moment. “What is this thing anyway?”

Gently, Joseph took the stick. “I’ll do it. Your hands need to be in the water.” Slowly, Peter placed his hand back in the water with only the slightest grimace.

“It’s my covering. I’ve worn one since I was a little girl, all Amish girls do.”

Peter crossed his eyes and looked at the piece of fabric Joseph held to his nose. “Why?”

“Tradition, I suppose. Everyone’s Ma and Grandma and sisters and daughters wear them.” She shifted on the ground. Having never explained anything of her lifestyle to the English, she picked her words carefully. “We always have and that is simply how it’s done.”

Peter wrinkled his nose, signaling Joseph to remove the cloth. “Traditions stem from somewhere.”

Rebekah gazed at him thoughtfully. “The first book of Corinthians explains head coverings. Since women were created last, we cover our heads since we are closer to God.” A smile tipped her lips. “Do you understand?”

Peter pulled a hand out of the water and touched the tip of his nose. “Suppose so. Y’all ain’t the only one that does that, you know.”

Rebekah and Joseph exchanged a look over the crackling fire.

“Catholic folk do, but not all the time. Only in church, or Mass.”

Joseph held his hands to the fire. “Do you follow that religion?”

“No. Almost did.”

Rebekah’s curiosity piqued. “Almost?”

“Had me a Spanish fiancé, she was Catholic. Attended Mass with her before she left me.” Peter rubbed one hand over his five o’clock shadow before shifting his eyes up to meet hers.

Rebekah’s gaze danced to meet Joseph’s, whose eyes sparkled with the same brand of curiosity as hers. “Why did she leave you?”

“I wouldn’t become Catholic. Her family wanted me too, though she didn’t seem to care if I did or didn’t.”

Joseph’s voice chimed in. “Why didn’t you convert?”

Peter ducked his head. “All those services were in Spanish or Latin or some dang language. I couldn’t understand what they was sayin’ one lick.”

A gentle laugh ripped through the motley trio. “I wouldn’t have converted either,” Rebekah grinned, “Part of knowing God is knowing his Word.”

Joseph nodded in agreement. “What did you do next, Peter?”

The Englishman’s blue eyes sparkled. “You sure you wanna hear all this?”

“Of course. You’re my brother.” Rebekah’s lips tilted into an easy smile.

Joseph gestured to the outside. The wind still howled and the snow had drifted against the mouth of the cave so much that only a miniscule swatch of sky remained visible. “I’ll have to clear that out in a while,” he said, “But aside from that chore, the three of us have a pretty long while to get to know each other.”

 

CHAPTER TWELVE

 

They talked long into the night. So long in fact that Rebekah didn’t realize she’d fallen asleep until she awoke to find both men had fallen asleep, too. Joseph had cleared the mouth of the cave, allowing coldness of the black night to creep in. She shivered.

“Cold?”

Rebekah hugged herself and rocked back and forth. Her gaze flickered to her covering that lay beside the fire. Joseph picked it up, scooting nearer to her.

“Here, I dried it for you.” He placed it over her hair, tucking in the blonde wisps that peeked out from under. Tugging gently on the strings, he centered it. “Feel better?” He didn’t drop his fingers from the strings.

“Much, thank you.” She met his eyes, which shone with an inner light. “I love my covering, and I love our way of life.” Her voice came out a whisper.

“Peter seemed interested,” he said. “It’s a shame he’s led such a hard life.”

Rebekah’s heart dipped low as the memory of Peter’s lament on his hard and lonely life. “It is a shame.”

“My prayers were answered when you said you’d stay with us in Gasthof.” With his eyes poring into hers, Joseph’s calloused thumb brushed her cheek, leaving a sizzling wake. “I love you, Rebekah.”

“Joseph, I –” She glanced at Peter, who was snoring softly. Her shyness forgotten, Rebekah raised a hand, resting it on Joseph’s. He accepted her fingers, squeezing them between his own. “I’m sorry for how I spoke to you. Can you forgive me?”

His voice, soft as down and sweet as honey, came quietly. “I forgave you the moment you said it, and I knew it wasn’t true, anyhow.” Joseph’s breath, warm on her lips, begged her to lean closer.

Rebekah’s hand tightened on his. “I need to tell you, Joseph, I have come to understand myself. I do love who I am –” Heart hammering in her chest, she inhaled deeply. Joseph’s scent flooded her senses, leaving her head swimming. “So I can tell you, with an open heart –”

She paused. Once this was said, there would be no going back. Things could never be the same between them. The future was uncertain, but the truth cloaked her words, giving her assurance that things would work out for the best. God’s will, would be done.
Gelassenheit

“Yes?”

With a directness she’d never practiced before, Rebekah stared into Joseph’s eyes. “I love you, Joseph Graber. And as you said, I have for as long as I can remember.” The enormity of Rebekah’s spoken words filled the expanse of the little cave. Both Rebekah and Joseph sat in the comfortable silence that followed, relishing in the warmth of truth and, of course, shared vows of love.

Joseph’s gaze never broke from hers. Though she was certain he had to hear the beating of her heart, which seemed to have produced an echo, Rebekah didn’t pull back. Unhurriedly, Joseph leaned closer, until her lips were warmed by his moist breath. She closed her eyes. Softly and without words, Joseph sealed the gap between them.

The kiss was over in an instant, but deep in Rebekah’s heart, she knew the effects would last throughout her lifetime. “Come here,” Joseph whispered, lifting his arm.

She leaned into him, his arm draped about her shoulders. She fit there, by his side, with such exactitude, that it seemed one had been divinely made for the other. There they sat, snug in the warmth of their shared feelings, until the little cave didn’t seem so chilled, after all.

 

 

“Storm’s over!” Peter announced, his deep voice echoing off the rocks. The words met Rebekah’s still- heavy ears, rousing her. Something covered her. Struggling to focus her bleary eyes, she saw the something was black.

Joseph’s jacket. Her lips turned up in a sleepy smile as she beheld the sight of him, curled up with his back to her
. He must be freezing
. Softly, she draped the warm jacket over him.

“Good morning, Peter,” she said, her voice crackling.

Peter’s eyebrows were arched skyward and a smile stretched his lips wide. “Didn’t you hear me? Storms over!” He gestured wildly to the door. “We can get out of here!”

And visit an outhouse
.

Peter reached over and gave Joseph’s shoulder a shake. “Hey Joseph, hey there. Come on, let’s get out of here!”

Joseph sat up, his inky curls askew. With a dimpled smile and squinted eyes, he rubbed his head. “That’s good news, Peter.”

Unable to take her eyes off him, Rebekah watched as he stretched, obviously trying to shake the sleep from his brain. Linking his fingers and arching forward, he extended his arms before him. Mid-stretch, he glanced at her.

Heat flooded her cheeks.

“Good morning, Rebekah.” His handsomely dimpled grin hinted at some secret that just the two of them shared. “Ready to go home?”

The scarlet cooled as quickly as it had flared. “Yes!” A loud rumble from her stomach sent an easy chuckle through the lot of them.

“Then let’s go!”

 

 

Outside, the deep gray sky was thick with low-lying clouds. To the east, though, bright and clear blue sky hinted at the truth in Peter’s words. Indeed, the unexpected storm was over.

“See, it’s over!” Peter chirped. “This snow’s deep, though.”

Peter and Joseph had cleared the snow from the mouth of the cave overnight, leaving the area outside relatively clear. Rebekah shifted her weight on her already icy feet.

“Let’s go.”

Trudging off in the direction of the Stoll home, Joseph led the way, scooping at the waist-deep snow with Rebekah’s washtub. “If that storm had lasted any longer,” he huffed, “We would have been in real trouble.” Rebekah stepped close behind him.

“I’ll take over when you get tired, Joseph,” Peter offered from behind Rebekah. Joseph nodded, his wide-brimmed black hat a stark contrast to the ocean of surrounding snow.

After only a short distance, Rebekah tugged at her cape, teeth chattering.
This is going to be a long walk, God please help us make it home.

Heaviness fell upon her shoulders. “Here Sister, you look cold.” Peter’s thick duster was warm about her shoulders. “Here Joseph, my turn!” Slipping past Rebekah, he retrieved the washtub and commenced to flinging snow. Joseph took his place behind Rebekah, his angular face red. “Snow’s heavy,” he breathed.

“Hey!” Peter gestured ahead. “There’s men!” He flung the snow with a newfound ferocity. “It’s your people! Over here!”

“Over here, over here!” chorused Rebekah and Joseph. Her tender fingers had already begun to burn from the cold. She tucked them deep in the duster pockets.

A chattering of German and English filled the chilled, soupy air as the familiar voices of Mr. Graber, Mr. Yoder, Mr. Wagler, and Mr. Knepp met their ears.

“I see someone!”

“Get the buggy!”

Rebekah quickened her steps to keep up with Peter, who had begun to trot.

Above all, Samuel’s voice rode the wind. “My daughter, is she there?”

Her words tore from her throat in a scream as Joseph waved his hat high above them. “I’m here, Pa!”

The draft horses marched easily through the snow. They even seemed to enjoy it, swishing their tails and stepping lively.
Thank you, God.

“Thank God, they’re alive!” Lucas Graber’s voice bounced along the snow. “Come, get in the buggy!”

The snow made the buggy ride rough, but the draft horses didn’t seem to mind.

“The storm came out of nowhere while I was doing laundry, Pa,” Rebekah explained, leaning against her Pa. “The clothes are still there.” On her words hung an apologetic note.

“Clothes are replaceable, Rebekah. You aren’t.” Holding her tight beneath his arm, he glanced at Joseph. “Are you to thank for saving my little girl?”

Lucas snapped the reins. “Always in the right place at the right time,” he joshed.

Joseph did a half smile. “Well, in part. Peter here helped, too.”

Samuel nodded at Peter. “Well,” he started, turning his attention back to Rebekah. “Your Ma is worried something horrible. Everyone’s at the house. We’ve been looking for you guys since the snow stopped.”

Snuggling deep against her Pa, Rebekah allowed herself to doze the rest of the ride home.

 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 

Indeed, every family in Gasthof Settlement was at the Stoll’s. The women were circled in the sitting room, Bibles open, as the Yoder pup bounced from person to person.

Tears streamed from Elnora’s eyes as she rushed to greet them. “My baby!” Her Ma wrapped her in a tight embrace. “Thank God!”

“It was God, Ma. Everything about this has been by His hand.” She gestured to Joseph and Peter as they climbed the steps in unison. “He made sure they were there. We all needed each other to survive.”

Elnora waved her arm to the lot of them. “Come in, all of you, and warm yourselves by the fire!” Baby Beanie squeaked from his cradle. “We were about to have a church service. Her broad face beamed. “Peter, won’t you join us?”

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