Rebecca's Promise (17 page)

“Good evening,” he said to Will Yoder, who had put his horse in the barn already and was walking toward the house.

“Good evening,” Will replied. “Weather turned a little chilly.”

“That it has,” John agreed. Will was a farmer. He lived just west of the Keims, and occasionally when it worked out, he and his sister would bring Rebecca to the midweek youth functions. Otherwise Rebecca would have to drive by herself. He wondered if Will had brought her tonight, a little jealousy teasing his feelings. Before he could ask, Will answered, “I brought your girl.”

“Oh.” John tried to sound uninterested, but the subtle jealousy reared its head.
This is foolish,
John reminded himself. Will was two years younger than Rebecca and well-known to be sweet on one of
the Wengerd girls. Yet the idea of another boy in the same buggy with Rebecca bothered John.

“She’s leaving on Saturday,” Will said.

“Leaving?” John couldn’t keep the astonishment from his voice.

Will looked up in surprise. “You mean she hasn’t told you?”

John tried to keep his head. Will would, of course, have expected John to know.

“No,” he said simply. “This is the first I’ve heard of it.”

“When did you see her last?” Will stepped back as John took his horse out from under the buggy shafts.

“Sunday,” John said from the other side of his horse.

“Strange she didn’t mention it.” Will shook his head, puzzled. “She’s going out to her aunt’s house in Milroy. Her aunt’s having a baby.”

“I haven’t heard that either,” John replied and started toward the barn. There was no use staying around and letting Will see how shocked he was.

“A baby,” Will was saying, for some reason feeling a need to rub it in. “She probably knew it for awhile already.”

“I know,” John said over his shoulder, irritated.
Why had Rebecca not said something?
The question burned in his mind.
Was this why she had acted so nervous when that van from Milroy passed us at the bridge? Surely not. What could going to her aunt’s to help with the baby have to do with being afraid? Was she hiding a secret?

Will walked to the house, while John led his horse toward the barn, through the double doors, and found an empty space in the stalls. From habit he memorized the place and position so that he could find the horse in the dark.

Walking back, two more buggies were coming in. He stepped to the side to let them pass. Both of them held teenagers from the west district, but at the moment, he wasn’t interested. All he could think of was Rebecca’s leaving and not telling him. He took a deep breath and entered the house.

With the fading winter light, gas lanterns were already lit, hanging from the ceiling. Two large stitching quilts were set up on the living room floor, colorful patterns already hand sewn in. Amish youth milled all around, both boys and girls running the threaded needles through the quilts.

He paused just inside the door. With so many people there, no one noticed him, which he was glad for. He wanted to see Rebecca, and his eyes scanned the room in search of her. In the light of the gas lanterns, the shadows danced this way and that, made even more pronounced by the movements of so many people.

Her dark hair caught his attention first. Longingly he looked at her. How lovely she was—so graceful as she stuck her needle underneath the quilt, and then back up again. With a smooth motion, she snipped off the end evenly, then repeated the motion. Her head was moving in conversation with someone beside her, but he couldn’t tell who.

Waves of feeling came over him, and he wished he could tell her how he felt, but that wouldn’t be appropriate.

Moving carefully he ventured forward.

She saw him before he got to her place by the quilt.

“Hi,” she said, her voice straining above the surrounding hum of conversation. She smiled at him, turning her face fully toward him, her eyes shining.

“Hi,” he replied, taking the spot she made open for him by the quilt.

“Here’s a needle and thread,” she said, pointing out an available one.

He nodded, taking the needle and preparing to use it. But how was he supposed to ask her about this trip she hadn’t told him about in the middle of all these young people?

She solved it for him by moving her head closer to him, her body leaning against the side of the quilt frame, her brow wrinkled up. “I have something I need to tell you.”

“Oh,” he said. “Maybe I already know.”

“You couldn’t,” she said. “I just learned of it on Monday.”

He found it hard to keep her gaze, with the feelings their nearness caused in his chest, his fear fading away. He dropped his eyes to the quilt and asked, “So what is it?”

“I have to go to Milroy. My aunt Leona’s having a baby. Mom just decided the matter over the weekend and didn’t tell me till Monday. I know it’s a real surprise. It was for me too, but I need to go.”

“Will told me outside,” he said. “Just that you were going on Saturday, of course.”

“Oh,” she responded, wrinkling her brow again, “I didn’t think he would see you before I did.”

“So how long are you staying?” John glanced around to see if anyone else was noticing their conversation. No one was, all of the others deep into their own conversations.

She leaned closer, having moved away to reach her last stitch. “A week after the baby comes, I suppose. You know how babies are. They come when they want to.”

“Some of them,” he commented wryly. “My older sister had a real time. Went two weeks overdue.”

She made a face at that. “If Leona’s goes that long, I’ll never come home.” She hesitated a moment before adding, “I’ll be looking forward to seeing you again.”

“I hope so,” he said quickly, glancing around again to see if anyone was listening.

“They’re not listening,” she whispered, causing the person next to them to turn around and glance at them.

“Don’t whisper,” he said in a normal tone, chuckling. “They’ll hear
that.
”

She laughed softly. He listened to the sound, letting it thrill him with its lightness.

“You still have friends in Milroy?” he asked, keeping his eyes away from her. “I guess you’ll have time to visit,” he said. “Your old friends, I mean.”

Yes, I hope so,” she said, carefully running the needle through the quilt again.

He knew he shouldn’t ask the question, but his earlier bout with jealousy goaded him. “Any old boyfriends you’ll see?”

“Of course not,” she said. Then she added, “Well, the two-date guy might still be around, but I don’t know. You shouldn’t be asking things like that again. You just asked on Sunday. I told you then.”

Still, John sensed she was not telling him everything. There had been that fear. Was it anything to do with her life in Milroy?

“I know,” he said. “To be honest, it just seems like there’s something you’re not telling me.”

She took a deep breath. There was no way she was going to tell him everything, but maybe she could she tell him a little. If he had really sensed her fear, it would be necessary to say something. She let her breath out slowly. “A schoolgirl crush in the sixth grade. He went Mennonite.” Then she added calmly, as inspiration struck, “You probably had those too.”

To her surprise he smiled. “Ya, that I did. I suppose we all did. We grow out of those. No Mennonites for me though.”

“So, now you know,” she told him.

He nodded, bending over the quilt. “So hurry back. I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll try,” she said, coming to the end of her line of stitches.

Not long after, they both stood back as their quilt was folded up and removed and chairs were brought out, along with popcorn and apple cider. John pulled up a chair for Rebecca before getting one for himself.

An hour later, the gathering over, John helped Will hitch up before he left himself. Mainly he wanted to see Rebecca up to the last minute.

Standing by the buggy, he waited until Will’s sister Wilma came out with Rebecca following. “Have a good trip,” he told Rebecca.

“I’ll be back soon,” she said and then climbed in, and to John’s
satisfaction, seated herself on the outside of the seat, away from Will. Wilma then got in and waited until Will was seated to sit down in the middle.

John smiled to himself as Will’s horse jerked, and they took off into the darkness, the taillights of the buggy twinkling at him.

O
n Saturday morning, Rebecca got up with the sound of the alarm clock. Within moments her father hollered up the stairs for Matthew. Life at home without her was already taking shape as Matthew, not Rebecca, would be doing the early morning chores. She stood listening to Matthew’s footsteps on the stairs, their sound amplified in the morning stillness.

Responding to a sudden whim, Rebecca hurriedly dressed and headed for the barn. Opening the door, she was greeted by the familiar warmth that came from the animals and the smell of hay and grain mixed with the background odor of barnyard manure. This was what she had come out for, letting the sensations and smells flow over her. Silly of her, she knew, but she would miss even this.

“You don’t have to chore this morning,” Matthew said, catching sight of her coming through the door. “Mom said so. You’re leaving.”

“I know,” she said, heading for the feed shoot and the nearby shovel, then throwing feed into the first few stanchions from where she stood. “I’ll just be out for the first round.”

He shrugged his shoulders as the first line of cows marched in. Rebecca hurried to finish with the last stanchion slot. That cow was already in place, mouth open and its tongue expectantly waiting for the grain. Almost before the feed hit the ground, the cow lowered its head and licked greedily.

She helped attach milkers on two cows, waited till those were done, then repeated the motion. Finally she said, “I’m leaving now.” Matthew simply nodded as she went out the door.

“What were you doing in the barn?” her mother asked when she got back into the house. “They’re picking you up in forty-five minutes.”

“I had to take one last look,” she said, smiling.

“You’re not leaving for long, silly. You’ll be back in two weeks or so.”

“I know. The whim just hit me.”

“Get changed then. I want you to have some breakfast before they come for you.”

Rebecca quietly went upstairs so as not to awaken any of the other children. Having a grouchy child on hand expressing its displeasure at being deprived of a few precious minutes of sleep was not preferred at the moment.

Changing into her traveling clothes, Rebecca brought her suitcase downstairs and set it by the front door. Mattie had prepared a plate of food for her in the kitchen and waited silently as Rebecca bowed her head in prayer.

“So how am I coming back?” Rebecca quickly asked, as she began eating.

“First we’ll have to see when the baby comes,” Mattie said. “After that, maybe there’ll be another load coming back.”

“And if not?” Rebecca asked, her fork cutting into an egg.

“You can always use the Greyhound.”

“Does Leona know that I’m coming?”

“I mailed her a letter on Monday morning. I’m sure she was expecting that you would come. She knows me. Figures I would send you, I expect.”

Rebecca lifted the last of the egg to her mouth, adding a bit of toast. “I’m going to walk across to Edna’s now,” she announced.

“They’ll pick you up here, I’m sure; if you’ll wait.”

“No. The suitcase isn’t too heavy. I’ll just walk.” She rose from the table, adding, “Early mornings are such a beautiful time of the day. I’d enjoy the walk over.”

“That they are,” her mother agreed. “Clear your dishes before you leave though. Matthew and Lester ought to be in soon.”

Picking up her plate and silverware, Rebecca deposited them by the sink.

Across the room, her mother opened the oven where she had been keeping the eggs. She took them out and set the plate on the table. There they sat in their pale yellow glory. Rebecca enjoyed the warmth of the kitchen and the good breakfast smells as she brushed past, leaving the washcloth in the sink.
This is home,
she thought as the emotions wrapped themselves around her.