Looking for a Miracle (18 page)

“Nadine and I have to go into town today. Would you like to go along?” Mom asked Rebekah the following morning as they prepared breakfast. “We’re going to eat out afterward, so that might help lift your spirits.”

“I don’t need anything in town right now, but I would appreciate a ride over to Mary Ellen’s,” Rebekah answered, making no reference to her spirits. She’d already broken the news to her family about Daniel and her not getting married, and it was bad enough just doing the telling. No use sulking about it or trying to make herself feel better with food from the Plain and Fancy or some other restaurant. Rebekah figured the best thing she could do was go calling on her friend. “Get your eyes off your own problem, and help someone else with theirs”—that’s what Grandma Stoltzfus often used to say.

“Taking you by Mary Ellen’s won’t be a problem because we’re only going into Bird-in-Hand today, and it’s right on the way,” Mom said, cutting into Rebekah’s thoughts. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go with us? You can always visit your cousin some other time.”

Rebekah shook her head. “Mary Ellen’s not feeling well. I think a visit with her is more important than shopping or going out to lunch.”

“What’s wrong with Mary Ellen?” Nadine asked when she entered the kitchen.

“She’s still having some morning sickness, and Johnny said that her back’s hurting, too,” Rebekah answered.

Nadine wrinkled her nose. “I think bein’ pregnant must be the worst thing any woman could ever go through. I’m not gonna have any children when I get married.”

Mom smiled and gave Rebekah a knowing look. “When you do get married, Nadine, children will come in God’s time, not yours. And God will give you the strength to get through it, too.”

“Jah, well, maybe I won’t get married, then.” Nadine folded her arms and frowned.

Rebekah smiled, even though her heart ached like crazy over her breakup with Daniel. “You? My boy-crazy little sister, not ever get married? That’s about as silly a notion as thinking the robins won’t come back in the spring.”

“Don’t make fun of me,” Nadine mumbled. “I don’t like to be laughed at.”

Rebekah sobered. “I’m sorry, sister. No one likes to be laughed at. I should know that better than anyone.”

Nadine moved over to the table where Rebekah sat buttering a stack of toast. “I’d never laugh at you, Rebekah. I admire you too much.”

Rebekah looked up at Nadine with tears obscuring her vision. “You do?” Things had been better between her and Nadine of late, but she’d never expected her sister to say something like that.

“Of course. You’ve done so much with your life. Running a business of your own is something to feel good about.”

“Nadine’s right,” Mom put in from her place at the stove. “If anyone should ever laugh at you, then they truly don’t know you at all.”

Rebekah’s mind pulled her back to that day at the market when the two English boys had taunted her. They’d laughed in her face and made fun of her, not caring in the least how she felt. Those fellows hadn’t known her. She hadn’t really known herself until she’d begun to search the scriptures for answers and had taken a huge leap of faith by opening the greenhouse.

Rebekah had never mentioned that incident at the market to her folks, nor was she willing to admit to them that breaking her engagement to Daniel had nearly broken her heart. Despite them encouraging her to reconsider, she was convinced that she had made the right decision. With God’s help, she hoped to get through this horrible letdown and move on with her life—without Daniel.

She added another piece of toast to the plate she’d already started and said, “We’d better finish getting breakfast ready and call Dad and Simon in to eat. I’m anxious to see Mary Ellen.”

“It’s sure nice to have you back workin’ full-time with the cows,” Daniel’s father said as the two of them mucked out the horses’ stalls. “For a while there, I was afraid I’d lost you to Rebekah’s greenhouse since that’s where you seemed to be spending all of your free time.”

Daniel grimaced. Just the mention of Rebekah’s name sent a pang of regret coursing through his body. If only she hadn’t broken their engagement. If only she’d let him explain how things were.

“You okay, son? You’re lookin’ kind of peevish today. Aren’t ya feelin’ to rights?”

“I’m okay, Pop. Just feelin’ a bit down and wishin’ some things could be different is all.”

Pop stopped scooping and set his shovel aside. “What’s the trouble?”

Daniel leaned against the wall with his arms folded and his shovel wedged between his knees. “I can’t accept Rebekah’s decision not to marry me. We’ve been so happy together these past few months, and it makes no sense that she would call off the wedding now and wouldn’t even let me have my say on things.”

Pop scrubbed a hand down the side of his bearded face and squinted. “Maybe it’s for the best, Daniel.”

“How can you say that?” Daniel felt his defenses rise. Didn’t Pop care how much he was hurting? Didn’t his daed realize how much he loved Rebekah?

“Think about it, now. Rebekah’s pretty much stuck in that wheelchair of hers, and her handicap could make for a difficult marriage.”

Daniel shook his head. “No way! I know Rebekah has limitations, but I’m willing to do more than my share of the work in the greenhouse and around our home, too.”

“That may be true, but what about kinner? Do you even know if Rebekah’s able to have any bopplin?”

“Well, no, but—”

“And even if she could get pregnant, how would she care for a baby when she can barely take care of herself?”

Daniel stared at the floor as he contemplated his father’s words. Maybe Pop was right. Maybe Rebekah couldn’t have any kinner, and maybe it would be difficult for both of them if they were to get married. Still, the thought of spending the rest of his days without the woman he loved by his side left Daniel feeling as if life had no meaning at all.

“I don’t have any answers, Pop,” he finally said, “but I do know that I love Rebekah with all my heart, and if we were to get married, I would do everything in my power to make her happy.”

Pop thumped him lightly on the back. “Well then, be a man, boy! If ya love the girl, you’d better go after her.”

“It’s not that easy,” Daniel mumbled. “Rebekah’s made up her mind that I only want to marry her so I can get my hands on her business. I don’t think I can say anything to make her think otherwise, either.”

“Hmm ... guess you’d best be prayin’ about the matter.”

“I have been prayin’, and I’ve decided that if God wants Rebekah and me to be together, then He’ll have to pave the way.” Determined to get his mind off Rebekah and the void she had left in his soul when she’d called off the wedding, Daniel grabbed the shovel from between his knees and resumed his work.

Mary Ellen and Johnny’s home was set on the back side of Uncle Amos and Aunt Mim’s property. It had been built by both of their fathers and was a two-story house with white siding and a long porch wrapped halfway around the building. Johnny had hung a two-seater swing under the overhang of the porch, and it was there that Rebekah discovered Mary Ellen. She held a glass of iced tea in one hand and was swinging back and forth, with her head leaning against the wooden slats.

After helping Rebekah down from the buggy and making sure she was secure in her wheelchair, Mom climbed back into the driver’s seat. “If you see Mim, tell her I’ll be over for a visit one of these days soon,” she called before pulling out of the driveway.

“Jah, okay.” Rebekah waved and propelled herself up the wheelchair ramp.

Mary Ellen smiled. “What a nice surprise. I’m so glad to see you today.”

“Johnny was by the greenhouse yesterday and said you were still feeling poorly. I thought maybe a little visit might do us both some good.”

“Johnny and Pappy are out in his shop. Pappy’s getting way more work than he can handle these days, and Henry’s help just isn’t enough.” Mary Ellen motioned toward the blacksmith shop on the other side of their property. “So Johnny helps him when he’s not busy farming with his daed.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Would you like me to call Mama Mim and see if she can help you into the swing?”

“That’s not necessary.” Rebekah eyed Mary Ellen’s protruding stomach. “You’re getting kind of big around the middle these days. I think maybe you might need the swing all to yourself.”

Mary Ellen grimaced. “Do I look that big?”

“Jah, just like one of Dad’s draft horses!” Rebekah giggled. “But you’re still as pretty as ever. I think being in a family way becomes you. You look almost radiant, in fact.”

“My radiance comes from being much too warm, I’m afraid,” Mary Ellen said, as she held the glass up to her flushed cheeks. “This late summer weather’s sure getting to me, and my back—oh, it hurts something awful!”

“Johnny said you’re still fighting the morning sickness, too.”

Mary Ellen nodded. “It comes and goes, but when it comes, it can get pretty bad.”

“Are you drinking plenty of peppermint tea to help with the nausea?”

In response, Mary Ellen lifted her glass. “Several glasses a day.”

“Then all you can do is pray that the sickness goes away soon.”

Mary Ellen sighed. “I hope the boppli comes in plenty of time before your wedding. I wouldn’t want to miss that big occasion.”

Now it was Rebekah’s turn to sigh. “There will be no wedding; I called the whole thing off.”

“You what?” Mary Ellen’s raised eyebrows showed her obvious disbelief, and her mouth hung slightly open.

“I told Daniel we weren’t getting married.” Rebekah’s vision blurred with unshed tears, and she looked away, hoping Mary Ellen wouldn’t notice.

“You didn’t really say that, did you?”

“Jah, I did. I was beginning to have some doubts as to whether I could be a good wife to Daniel anyway.”

“Because of your concerns about whether you can ever conceive?”

Rebekah nodded in reply.

“What does the doctor say?”

“He doesn’t really know. He said that in some cases of spinal cord injury, a woman can never conceive, but—well, some have actually been able to get pregnant and carry the baby to term.”

“You might be one of those women.” Mary Ellen tapped her fingernails against the side of her glass, making a clicking sound. “That’s surely no reason for calling off the wedding.”

Rebekah’s forehead knitted into a frown. “Oh, Mary Ellen, I do so want to be a wife and mother. God’s already given me one miracle, so I don’t know if I dare ask for yet another.”

“Of course you can ask. The Bible tells us in Luke 11:9: ‘Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you.’ Our heavenly Father wants to give us good things.”

Rebekah sniffed. “Sometimes I think I’m not deserving of the things God gives to others.”

“You are so,” Mary Ellen said in an earnest tone. “All God’s children are deserving of His love. He doesn’t always give us everything we ask for, but He does give us what He knows is best for us.”

“My own capabilities aren’t the only problem,” Rebekah finally admitted.

Mary Ellen tipped her head. “What else is there?”

“It’s Daniel.”

“Daniel? How could Daniel be the problem? He’s so much in love with you that it’s downright sickening.”

“I thought so, too—until yesterday.”

“What happened yesterday?”

Rebekah quickly related her and Daniel’s conversation about him wanting to be her business partner and the fact that she was certain it was the only reason he wanted to marry her.

“I hope he set you straight on that one,” Mary Ellen said.

“He tried to deny it, but in the process, he admitted to wanting the greenhouse real bad. That fact alone is unsettling to me.”

“Sometimes we draw the wrong conclusions because we want to.”

“What are you saying? Do you actually think I want to believe such things about Daniel?” Rebekah’s voice raised at least an octave, and her cheeks felt flushed.

Mary Ellen shifted on the swing as she held up her hand. “Please, don’t get defensive on me. I only meant that since you were already having some doubts about being a wife, maybe Daniel’s comment was misunderstood. Maybe you were looking for a way out of what you felt wouldn’t work.”

“Now, listen, Mary Ellen—”

“Wie geht’s, Rebekah?” Aunt Mim asked as she stepped up to the porch.

“I–I’m fine, danki.”

“It didn’t sound to me as if you were all that fine. You sounded pretty upset about something a moment ago.”

“Rebekah thinks Daniel only wants to marry her so he can become her partner at the greenhouse,” Mary Ellen was quick to say.

Rebekah nodded. “It’s true. He sweet-talked me for months just so he could get his hands on my business.”

“Do you have time to hear another one of my little stories?” Aunt Mim asked, squeezing in beside Mary Ellen on the swing. “I think it might give you some insight on a few things concerning you and Daniel.”

“I guess so. I’ll be here until Mom picks me up later this afternoon.” Rebekah moved her wheelchair closer to the swing, ready to hear her aunt’s story, although she couldn’t imagine what it would have to do with her and Daniel. “By the way, Mom says she’ll drop over for a visit sometime soon.”

Aunt Mim nodded, then began her story. “A long time ago, when Miriam Hilty was still Miriam Stoltzfus, she thought that a certain Amos Hilty wanted to marry her for reasons other than love.”

“Really? I never knew that, Mama Mim,” Mary Ellen said with wide eyes. “What other reasons might Pappy have had?”

Aunt Mim patted Mary Ellen’s hand. “Well, I thought your daed only wanted a mudder for his little girl.” She shrugged. “I figured he probably wanted someone to do all his cooking and cleaning, too. It wasn’t until well after our marriage that I finally woke up and realized that Amos cared deeply for me. What he really wanted all along was a companion and helpmate.”

Aunt Mim motioned to Rebekah. “I’ve observed you and Daniel plenty of times, and I daresay he loves you very much. While it might be true that Daniel desires a partnership in your business, I’m convinced that he wants you as his wife even more.”