An Amish Match (11 page)

She laughed. “I would prefer to think it's getting its antics out of the way so it'll be a
gut
boppli
.”

“You sound as if you're feeling better.” His voice remained low and tender.

“I am. Sitting helps.”

“
Gut
. Tomorrow I'll stop at the clinic and make an appointment for you. I'll ask them to see you as soon as possible.”

“I told you, Joshua, the back pain was nothing but me being foolish.”

He shook his head. “That may be so, but you need to see a midwife. You've been here more than a month, and if I remember right, you should be having appointments with her frequently at this point.”

“I should.” She resisted stroking his face again. “
Danki
, Joshua. I appreciate your kindness more than words can express.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but whatever he intended to say went unspoken because the door opened and the boys rushed in. As Timothy launched into an explanation of how long Sammy had taken to select something to drink and how the little boy had delighted the other customers with his comments, Joshua stood and pretended to admire the sweet cider Sammy had chosen.

She watched and smiled and complimented her son on his choice, but her eyes kept shifting toward Joshua. He was watching her, too. Something huge had changed between them. Something that could not go back to the way it had been.

* * *

Joshua greeted his family as he came into the kitchen the next evening. He glanced first at Rebekah, but she was, as she'd assured him at breakfast, recovered from the muscle strain that had sent waves of pain across her face at the buggy shop.

Walking to the stove where Rebekah was adding butter to peas fresh from the garden, he asked, “How are you doing today?”

“Fine.” She smiled at him, and his insides bounced like a
kind
on a trampoline.

“I made an appointment for you at the clinic.” He held out the card he'd been given.

“Danki.”
She took the card and slipped it into a pocket in her black apron. “Why don't you sit? Dinner is almost ready.”

“And I'm in your way?”

He heard Debbie giggle by the sink as Rebekah nodded. Walking back to the table, he lifted Sammy into the high chair set between his chair and Rebekah's. His gaze slipped to the far end of the table where the chairs Rebekah had brought from Bird-in-Hand awaited guests. It was odd to have the extra chairs by the table, but he knew they would be useful when company came.

He still wasn't accustomed to seeing her sewing machine by the largest window in the living room or having Tildie's blanket chest at the foot of Debbie's bed. Tildie's old sewing machine was stored in the attic, waiting for someone who could use it. He'd planned on giving his daughter the chest when she married, not so soon.

His sons came in freshly washed and making no secret of how hungry they were. Rebekah put the peas and thick, smoky slices of ham in the middle of the table. Debbie filled their glasses from a pitcher of ice water before getting warm biscuits from the oven.

Another feast! Joshua patted his stomach when it growled and everyone laughed. As soon as Rebekah was sitting beside the high chair and Debbie across from her brothers, he bowed his head for grace. He had so much to be thankful for: his family, the food and how God had brought Rebekah into his life. Grateful his prayer was silent because he could speak directly from his heart, he cleared his throat and looked up when Sammy moved impatiently beside him.

The conversation was easy and as plentiful as the food. When Joshua reached for another biscuit, a strange sound erupted from beneath the table. A dull thud. He looked at his glass. The water inside was fluttering.

“What was that?” Debbie asked, her eyes round and wide.

The
kinder
as well as Rebekah looked at him in bafflement. He wished he had an answer, but he didn't.

“Maybe it was an earthquake.” Levi nearly bounced off his chair with excitement. “
Aenti
Esther taught us about them last year, and I read a book from the school library about the big ones in California. Maybe we're having one, too.”

“Unlikely,” Joshua said. “There aren't many earthquakes in Pennsylvania.”

“Oh.” His son looked disappointed.

“Then what was that sound?” asked Timothy. “Why did the table shake?”

“I don't know.”

Rebekah shrugged her shoulders when Joshua glanced at her again. “I don't have any idea, either.”

“Whatever it was is over,” he said. “Eat up. If—”

A louder thump sounded. The table vibrated hard enough so the silverware bounced. Faces around the table paled.

Joshua looked down. This time, he'd felt whatever it was hitting the floor under his feet. No, not the floor. Something had struck the cellar's ceiling...right below the kitchen table. Right where the fuel lines came into the house from the propane tank in the backyard.

He jumped to his feet. “Rebekah, take the
kinder
outside. Now!”

“You should come, too.” Her face had lost all color. “Timothy, go next door and call 911.”

“Let me do a quick check before you make that call.” He locked eyes with his oldest. “Be ready to run to the Grangers.” He crossed the kitchen in a trio of quick steps.

“Joshua?”

He looked back to see Rebekah picking up Sammy who held a piece of bread in one hand and a slice of ham in the other. “What?”

“Be careful.” Her intense gaze seconded her soft words. She'd lost one husband, and she didn't want to lose another.

For a second he was warmed by that thought and considered heading out with the rest of the family, because he didn't want to be separated from a single one of them. It would mean another of the volunteer firemen having to go into the cellar to find out what was happening. He couldn't ask another man to do what he wouldn't.

Throwing open the cellar door while his family hurried out of the kitchen, he instinctively ducked when something exploded not far from the bottom of the steps. He sniffed, but didn't smell any gas. If it wasn't a fuel leak, what was blowing up?

He took one cautious step, then another. Groping along a shelf, he pulled out the flashlight he left there for emergencies. He took another deep breath to assure himself there wasn't a gas leak. Even the small spark created by the switch on the flashlight could set off a huge explosion if the cellar was filled with propane.

The air smelled sweet. No hint of the rotten odor added to propane to alert them to danger.

Even so, he held his breath as he turned on the flashlight. Nothing erupted. He swept the cellar with light. Everything looked as it should. He took a step. When something cracked beneath his boot, he aimed the light at the floor. Shards of glass were scattered across it.

He whirled when he heard footsteps overhead. Who was in the house? He saw Rebekah at the top of the stairs. “What are you doing? I told you to get out.”

“Timothy opened some of the cellar windows from the outside, and he didn't smell any gas.”

“I don't, either. I don't know what exploded. I—”

He put his arms over his head as a detonation came from his left. Something wet struck him. His skin was sliced by shattered glass.

“Joshua!” Rebekah shouted.

“Daed!”
That was Timothy.

“Daedi!”
The younger
kinder
yelled at the same time.

Raising his head and lowering his arms, he grimaced as liquid dripped from him. Some of it was blood, he realized when a drop splattered on his boot. Above him on the stairs, Rebekah and the
kinder
wore identical expressions of dismay.

He shook the fluid off him. Or tried to. It was sticky. He sniffed his lacerated forearm. “Root beer.”

Glancing at the shelves where the canned food was stacked, he saw four more bottles of root beer. He grabbed them and stuffed them beneath a wooden crate. Just in time because another exploded, making the crate rise an inch from the floor.

“No,” he heard Rebekah say. “You can't go down there until you put on shoes.”

Within minutes, his sons had joined him and Rebekah in the cellar. Sammy stayed with Debbie at the top of the stairs, because the little boy was too young to help clean up glass. After he reassured them he was fine other than being covered with root beer from head to foot, Joshua asked Timothy to bring water from the spring at the back corner of the cellar. They needed to wash the concrete floor before ants discovered the spilled soda. When another bottle erupted beneath the crate, everyone jumped even though they'd known it could happen.

“I didn't realize there was any root beer left,” Joshua said as he swept water and glass toward the center of the floor where Timothy scooped it up and put it in the bag Levi held. “I wonder why it exploded tonight.”

“It's my fault
, Daedi
.” Levi stared down at his sneakers.

“Your fault? How?”

“I moved the bottles.” He looked up quickly, then at his feet again. “Rebekah asked Debbie and me to help sort out what was down here. I found the bottles and hid them behind the canned peaches.”

“So you didn't have to share them? Levi, that isn't like you.”

Rebekah put a hand on Joshua's arm, startling him. When he turned to her, she shook her head and gave him a gentle smile. He realized her thoughts were on his son, not on him. As he replayed his words in his mind, he knew he had spoken too harshly.

Levi was a
gut
boy, but no boy was perfect. If one who loved root beer tried to hide a few old bottles to enjoy later by himself, he should be reminded sharing something special was the best way.

“I won't do it again,
Daed
.” Levi was near tears.

He clasped his younger son's shoulder. “I know you won't. Are there any more bottles back there?”

“Let me check.” Timothy stepped toward the shelves. “You need to get those cuts looked at,
Daed
.”

“He's right,” Rebekah said gently. “Levi can finish cleaning up this mess while I tend to your injuries.”

He nodded when he realized this was her way of ensuring his son wouldn't forget the bad decision he had made. Handing the broom to Levi, he said, “I know you will do a
gut
job, son.”

The boy sniffed back tears, but said, “I will,
Daed
.”

Joshua walked up the stairs after Rebekah. When she wobbled, he put his hand at her back to steady her. She didn't pull away. His steps were light as he went into the kitchen. Timothy being helpful, Levi admitting to the truth right away...and Rebekah not shrinking from his touch. Maybe they'd reached a turning point and their lives would get better. As he sat at the kitchen table so Rebekah could put salve on the many small cuts on his arms, he prayed that would be so.

Help me find a way to bring happiness into our lives
. He hoped the prayer would be answered soon.

Chapter Ten

W
hen Levi brought the buggy and Dolly out of the barn, Rebekah smiled. The boy had made every effort to be on his best behavior since the episode with the exploding root beer bottles three nights ago. Even on Sunday during the church service, he hadn't squirmed once or poked the boy beside him.

Now she thanked him for hooking up the horse. He gave her a shy smile before jogging toward the house where Debbie was washing the breakfast dishes and keeping an eye on Sammy.

The road was empty while Rebekah headed toward the village. The sunlight shimmered on the road in front of her, warning the day was going to be a hot one. Usually she looked forward to summer heat, but not while she was pregnant. Every degree higher on the thermometer added to her discomfort.

She went past the Stoltzfus Family Shops sign. The parking lot was filled as usual with cars and buggies. When the door of Joshua's shop opened and he bounded out, waving his hands, she drew back on the reins in astonishment.

“What's wrong?” she asked.

He didn't answer her question. He asked one of his own. “Where are you bound?”

“To my appointment with the midwife.”

He grimaced, then looked down at his grease-stained shirt and trousers. “I forgot your appointment was today. Let's go.” He put his foot on the step, then halted because she didn't slide across the seat.

“You don't need to come with me, Joshua. I know you're concerned about getting Mr. Carpenter's carriage done on time.”

He shook his head, his most stubborn expression tightening his lips as he dropped back on to the ground. “I need to come with you. You are my wife. We will, God willing, be raising this
kind
together for many years to come.” He put his foot on the step again and held out his hands.

She gave him the reins and moved to the left side of the buggy. She was glad her bonnet hid her face, because she wasn't sure what his reaction would be to the tears filling her eyes. She thought of the days since she'd visited the buggy shop and how solicitous he had been, making sure the
kinder
helped in the house and with Sammy so she could rest a short while each afternoon. Each kindness was a
wunderbaar
surprise she treasured, knowing how fleeting such benevolence could be. He'd welcomed her concerns about Timothy and accepted her silent chiding to be more gentle with his son after Levi had stashed the bottles of root beer in the cellar.

Am I being foolish to consider trusting again, God?
The question came from the depths of her heart, bursting out of her unbidden. Only now did she recognize how desperately she longed for a real marriage.

As Joshua steered the buggy on to the road, a white van pulled up in front of Amos's store. An elderly man and woman were waiting with their bags of groceries, each of them holding an ice cream cone. The driver parked, jumped out and opened the door to let them in while he put their purchases in the back.

It was a scene Rebekah had witnessed often at the grocery store in Bird-in-Hand, but her breath caught when she noticed how the elderly man helped his wife into the van as if she were as precious and essential to him as his next breath. Every motion spoke of the love they shared, a love that required no words because it was part of them. She felt a pinch of envy as she imagined having a love like that to share.

When Joshua spoke, it unsettled her to realize his thoughts closely mirrored hers. “The Riehls were married before I was born. Even though Amos has offered to deliver groceries to their house, they insist on coming to the store. He suspects the real reason is the soft ice cream machine he put in last year.”

“Ice cream
is
a
gut
reason.” She smiled, letting her uncomfortable thoughts drain away. “Do you ever make ice cream with the
kinder
?”

“Our ice cream maker broke a few years ago.”

“I brought one from the farm.”

He flashed her a grin. “I'm surprised Levi hasn't been begging to make ice cream. The boy has a real sweet tooth.”

“He's mentioned it several times, but...” She sighed. “There are only so many hours in each day.”

“I was wondering, Rebekah, if it is wise for you to be doing so much of the housework.”

She looked at him, baffled. Why wouldn't she do the house chores? It was what a wife did. Dismay twisted in her middle. Had she failed to keep the house or make his meals or clean the laundry as well as Matilda had?

“Why?” It seemed the safest question to ask.

“I see how exhausted you are. You cook and clean for four
kinder
as well as you and me. In addition, you work in the garden every day and spend hours making and keeping our clothes in
gut
repair.”

“You work as hard at the buggy shop.”

“But I'm not going to have a
boppli
soon.” He shot her a grin. “What do you say to getting a girl in to help before the
boppli
is born? She could do the heavier chores so you can rest?” His smile broadened. “And have time to supervise making ice cream for Levi.”

“That would be
wunderbaar
.” Again she had to blink back tears. They seemed to be her constant companion recently. His concern touched her heart, piercing the barriers she'd raised to protect it from being hurt over and over.

“I asked around and Sadie Gingerich may be available.” He drew in the reins when they reached the main highway.

Route 30 was always busy. The buggy rocked when eighteen-wheelers roared past, but Dolly acted as if she encountered them every day. The horse stood still until given the command to go. The buggy sped across, and Rebekah grasped the seat with both hands to keep from being rocked off.

When they were driving along a quiet residential street, Joshua added, “Sadie helped my sister Ruth during her last pregnancy, and Ruth was very satisfied. You haven't spent much time with my sister, but I can tell you she's not easy to please.”

“Ruth knows what her family needs, and she isn't afraid to voice her opinions.”

He smiled. “That's a nice way of saying she's bossy, but she's the oldest, so she's used to looking out for us. If you want, I can contact Sadie's family. They live south of Paradise Springs, closer to Strasburg. If she can't help, she might know someone she can recommend.” He glanced across the buggy. “Do you want me to check if she can come?”

“Ja.”
She couldn't say more. The tears that had filled her eyes were now clogging her throat until she felt as if she'd swallowed a lump of uncooked bread dough.

“Are you sure?”

She realized he'd taken her terse answer as dismay instead of overwhelming relief and gratitude that he cared enough about her to hire Sadie Gingerich to help. Blinking the tears hanging on her lashes, she said, “
Ja
, I'm sure.
Danki
, Joshua.”

“I'll see if she can stop by soon. If you like her—and I think you will because she's a nice girl—she can start right away.” He tapped her nose. When she stared at him as if he'd lost his mind, he laughed. “Then maybe my pretty wife won't have dark circles under her eyes because she's doing too much and not getting enough sleep.”

“Nice way to give your wife a compliment.”

“I don't want you to grow prideful.” His gaze cut into her as he added, “And that can't be easy for someone as beautiful as you.”

She knew she was blushing, but she didn't care. Lloyd had never given her a compliment. Not even when they were courting. She should pay no attention to fancy words. Yet when Joshua said something nice to her, happiness filled her, making her feel as if the sun glowed inside her.

He didn't add more as he slowed the buggy again and hit the toggle that activated the right turn signal. He pulled into an extrawide driveway and stopped by a hitching post. After jumping out, he lashed the reins to it, though Dolly would wait for them to return.

Rebekah was glad when he assisted her out of the buggy. It wasn't easy to see her feet now, especially on the narrow step. Gravel crunched beneath her feet as she walked with him toward the single-story white building that looked as if it had been a home. Dark green shutters edged the windows. A bright wreath with purple and white blossoms hung on the yellow door, and a small plaque to one side announced: Paradise Springs Birthing Clinic.

Joshua reached past her to open the door. It wasn't until she was inside that she realized she hadn't cringed away from his arm when it had edged around her. She was torn between joy and praying that she wasn't making another huge mistake. She wasn't going to think about the dark times. They had shadowed her life for too long. She was going to focus on the here and now. And the
boppli
who would be born soon.

The clinic was as cheerful and bright inside as it was on the exterior. A half dozen plastic chairs in a variety of colors edged each side of the room. Three were occupied, and none of the women were dressed plainly. They looked up and smiled as she walked past. She returned their smiles and told herself to relax.

After going to the registration desk near a closed door at the far end of the narrow room, Rebekah gave her name to the receptionist who wore large, red-rimmed glasses. The receptionist welcomed her and handed her a clipboard with forms to fill out.

Rebekah sat and concentrated on answering each question. Joshua took the chair beside her.

“Measles?” he asked when she checked a box on the long list of common diseases. “Didn't you have the shot when you were a
kind
?”

“I did, but I caught them anyhow.” She chuckled. “The doctor told
Mamm
it sometimes happens that way and that I would have been much sicker if I hadn't had the shot. I couldn't imagine how, because I was pretty sick with them.”

Turning the page over, she was glad the portion on health insurance had already been crossed out. That showed the clinic was accustomed to dealing with the Amish, who weren't required to purchase health insurance because their community took care of any medical bills a family couldn't pay on their own.

But how was she going to pay for the
boppli'
s birth? She couldn't expect Joshua to pay the costs. The
boppli
wasn't his. The answer came instantly: she'd have to sell the farm in Bird-in-Hand. Once the farm was gone, her haven would be, too, but what choice did she have?

Finishing the rest of the pages, she started to rise to take the completed forms to the desk.

Joshua stood and held out his hand. “Let me do that. You should sit while you can.”

As she thanked him, a woman sitting on her other side leaned toward her. “You have a very considerate husband,” she whispered. “I wish my husband understood like yours does how tough it is to get up and down.” She laughed. “My ankles are getting as big as a house.”

Taken aback, Rebekah wasn't sure how to reply. She gave the woman a smile, which seemed the perfect answer because the other woman laughed and went back to reading her book.

Joshua sat beside her again. “The receptionist said it shouldn't be long before you're called in.”

“Gut.”
The plastic chair was uncomfortable.

A few minutes later the inner door opened. A tall woman stepped out. Her dark brown hair was swept back beneath a
kapp
that identified her as a Mennonite. The back was pleated and square rather than heart-shaped like Rebekah's. Her plain gown was worn beneath a doctor's white coat, and a stethoscope hung around her neck. She called out Rebekah's name. When Joshua stood, too, the woman asked him to wait, saying he'd be called back in a few minutes.

He nodded and took his seat. He gave Rebekah a bolstering smile as she went to the door and stepped through into a hallway that branched off past two open doors on either side.

“This way, Rebekah,” the woman in the white coat said.

In spite of knowing she shouldn't, Rebekah stared at the woman who limped as she walked. A plastic brace ran from below her right knee into her black sneaker. It was held in place atop her black stockings by a wide strip of what looked like Velcro.

She recovered herself and followed the woman into a room. The midwife's warm smile was so genuine that she was instantly at ease.

“I am Elizabeth Overholt, but everyone calls me Beth Ann,” said the woman before she asked Rebekah to get on the scale. She then checked Rebekah's blood pressure. Rebekah was pleased with both, and so was Beth Ann.

“Excellent,” Beth Ann said and led her to a room across the hall. She motioned for Rebekah to come in. “Do you need help getting on the table?”

“I think I can manage still.”

“Don't be brave. Ask for help when you need it.” She kept her hand near Rebekah's elbow until Rebekah was sitting on the examination table. “Okay, I have your file from your midwife in Bird-in-Hand, so let's see what it says.”

Looking around the pleasant room while Beth Ann read the file, Rebekah smiled. Childish drawings hung on the wall. She guessed one of them depicted a kitten or maybe a lamb. Something with curly, fuzzy hair. The other was of a
kind
holding a woman's hand. A small house and a huge tree were behind them, and the sun was bright yellow while a rainbow arched over the whole scene.

Booklets she recognized from when she'd been pregnant with Sammy were stacked neatly by the window. Then she had read every word, hungry for information to make sure her
boppli
was born healthy. Not one had contained any advice on how to keep her husband from damaging their
kind
.

She pushed the dreary cloud of memory away. Lloyd was gone, and Joshua hadn't raised his hand to her. Not yet.

Oh, Lord, help me to trust he's not the man Lloyd was. I want to be able to believe he won't hurt me or the
kinder
.