Rebekah's Quilt (9 page)

Joseph bent so that his lips were at her ear. “Why can’t you walk?” His closeness and the warmth, of his breath on her cheek, reminded her she wasn’t alone or on display.

Rebekah’s gaze flickered to the ever-silent Katie. “I, well, I sort of ” Her voice was faulty.

The only other contender for Joseph’s affections sat stark still, her hands clasped neatly in her lap as she took in the scene unfolding before her. Rebekah thought the burgundy color of Katie’s handmade dress was remarkably similar to one that was folded in her own drawer upstairs.

Joseph’s fingers fell lightly on the crook of her arm as she wrung her hands at her middle. The brief, deliberate touch caused her stomach to knot. Allowing her sheepish gaze to meet his, the world in her peripheral vision melted down, down, down until nothing remained except the angular, dimpled face of the man who had stolen her heart.

In that moment, only the two of them remained, eyes locked together, his fingers still resting on her arm. Rebekah drew in a shudder of breath as Joseph wet his full lips with the tip of his tongue, obviously waiting for the explanation he sought.

The overwhelming urge to seize the unanticipated moment and pull him close surged through her, leaving her insides feeling weak and guilty.

Stop it, Rebekah
.

She swallowed hard in an attempt to will the wonderful dizziness back from whence it came.
Save these urges for your husband. When you’re married. Not for brief moments such as these.

“Rebekah.” His voice bubbled into her daydream.

“Hmmm?”

“What did you do to your leg?”

“Oh that.” Rebekah lifted them hem of her housedress a bit to reveal her bare and swollen foot. “It’s nothing.”

Joseph’s blue eyes widened.

Shrugging, Rebekah continued. “When I heard something outside last night, I dashed to the window. Realized later, that my foot must’ve found the dresser.”

“Rebekah, why didn’t you tell me?” Joseph’s voice was hard. “You shouldn’t be up walking on that.”

As the front door swung open again, Joseph bent and swooped her into his arms. Arms that were lean and muscled from all of the heaving and hauling that came with being an Amish man.

Katie’s mouth formed a perfect ‘o’. “Why, that’s not fittin’ at all!”

The heat that burned in Rebekah’s neck crept up to color her face, but the warmth from Joseph’s closeness and his fresh, woodsy scent made it hard to focus on anything, especially embarrassment.

The door slammed shut as Heloise Graber stopped just inside the house. A tiny gasp escaped her lips when she saw her only son standing there in the middle of the room, the delicate Stoll daughter wrapped in his embrace. “What’s all this?”

“I was about to ask the same question,” Katie chirped. The hurt in her voice was almost tangible. “My ma says such behavior should be saved for marriage and no man should –” Her eyes flickered to Rebekah. “No man should go around touching just any old girl.”

Heloise raised a hand. “Katie, let Joseph speak.” She shifted her patient gaze to her son. “Joseph? You must know how this looks.”

Joseph gave Rebekah a tiny squeeze. The embarrassment was beginning to make her insides quake. “I understand how this might look inappropriate,” he began. “But I also know how
this
looks. Rebekah, show my mother your foot.”

With a tiny kick, Rebekah revealed her mottled and swollen ankle to the anxious onlookers.

“You don’t need to be walking on that foot, Rebekah.” Joseph’s voice was stern as he turned his attention back to her. “I’m taking you up to bed.”

Happy crinkles creased the corners of Heloise’s eyes. “I knew there would be an explanation. Rest well Rebekah, and do as Joseph tells you. He’s good at doctor’n.”

Rebekah allowed all of her senses to soak up Joseph’s closeness and blot out the rest of the room. She inhaled, closing her eyes. His scent was woodsy, like he’d just traipsed through a pine forest.

“And you’re gonna rest.” His breezy voice, meant to reassure, only stoked the gentle heat that smoldered in her chest.

She watched Joseph’s angular jaw flex as he ascended the stairs. Katie’s high-pitched words like “inappropriate” and “shameless” caught her attention, but a genial laugh from Heloise quelled any anxiety before it even had the chance to bloom.

“I’ll take care of things. You just get well.” He laid the cool rag on her puffy foot. The purple mottling had begun to creep up her leg and her entire foot was tinged a deep green.

“That toe is broke,” Joseph observed. “I’m sure Ma’ll be in here to check on you later. Planned on looking in on your ma today.”

Rebekah managed a smile as she spread her hands over her quilt. Gazing out the window, a sudden tiredness tugged at her eyelids. “I’ll just close my eyes a minute, then get up to start dinner.” A yawn interrupted her spiel.

“Dinner, pshaw.” Joseph closed his eyes and waved both hands as if to dismiss her. “I’ll take care of dinner.”

“Are you sure?”

“You do trust me, don’t you?”

A note in his voice gave her pause. “Trust you?”

He grinned, offering her a sly wink that transformed her insides into hopeless mush.

“You
can
trust me, Rebekah.”

Surely he doesn’t know, er think, I went downstairs just to check up on him and Katie?
Her mushy insides quivered. She hoped the flush that flamed in her face wasn’t as visible as it felt.

“Do you?”

She nodded, once again not trusting her own voice.

“So I trust you won’t be wandering down the stairs for the rest of the day?”

“I won’t,” she said half-heartedly.

He gestured to her nightstand. “Your quilting bag is sitting there if you get the urge to stitch.” The corner of his mouth tilted into a smile. Rebekah liked the way the corners of his eyes crinkled with his smile, making him even more alluring than usual.

“I’ll be back to check on you later,” he assured her, reaching for the handle of the closed door. Before he could pull it open, the door flung inward, whacking him squarely on the nose.

Heloise’s voice, thickly accented, rang through the air. “Whoopsie! Sorry Son!” With green eyes a-sparkle, she entered Rebekah’s room. “Rebekah, I see you made it upstairs.” The elder Graber flounced across the room with a youthful gaiety untelling of her forty years.

Rebekah flickered her gaze to Joseph.

“How’s everyone doing outside, Ma?” he asked.

“Ah, everyone is fine, fine,” she said, a dismissive quality to her voice. “I come to see the hero of the day.” She perched on the foot of Rebekah’s bed like a plump bird. Her smile was wide and bright beneath the fiery locks that peeked out from her black covering.

“The men are replacing the barn, Rebekah,” she reported. “All the women brought supplies and food. Oh!”

Hopping up, Heloise danced back across the room.

Joseph and Rebekah inhaled in unison when she reappeared with a full basket of home baked goods.

“Mmm, I smell apple strudel!” Rebekah sighed.

Heloise plopped the basket on the bed, grinning as Rebekah began unpacking it with zest.

With a tender smile, Joseph looked on.

“Apple strudel,” she confirmed, taking a big whiff of the first plate before setting it off to the side. “Apple butter. A loaf of buttermilk bread. Noodles and chow chow. And, oh my goodness, a rhubarb pie! Thank you Heloise!”

“Don’t sank me, sank Katie,” Heloise said, her German accent thick as the creamy strudel frosting. “’Twas her idea to fix you a basket.”

Rebekah’s voice was muted and humble. “I will thank her,” she promised. “Oh, what’s this?” She slowly drew the heavy object from the bottom of the basket. “Sewing shears?”  Confused, she looked up at Heloise.

The stout woman’s face softened, smoothing the laugh lines from years of smiling and happy laughter. “For your hair, my love.”

Rebekah stared at the gleaming shears a moment. With a sniffle, she blinked back unwelcome tears.

Joseph removed his hat, giving it a toss onto Rebekah’s bed. He slicked back his own thick, dark hair. “Cut it to look like mine, Ma.”

A wave of emotion surged up from the depths of Rebekah’s soul. But instead of coming out in the form of tears, it came out as a belly laugh.

Heloise and Joseph joined in the guffaw until the three of them were in stitches. A low moan from the hallway interrupted their jovial jag.

“Oww,” it moaned. “Help, please!”

Rebekah and Heloise’s eyes met and each spoke at once. “I’m coming!”

Heloise had already reached the door as Rebekah struggled to untangle her legs from her nest of blankets. “Hold on Ma, I’m coming!”

“Stay dere!” Heloise instructed from the hallway. “Yosef, make sure she stays put and eats!”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Joseph pushed the door gently shut before turning his attention back to Rebekah. After tucking the quilt back around her, he produced the first plate. “Eat some strudel. My Ma’s good at takin’ care of folks.”

Rebekah sat back, her spine stiff in case she should need to jump up and assist. “I know she is the best at bringing babies.”

They had just finished off the strudel and were opening the apple butter when the door creaked, revealing Heloise’s corpulent frame.

“Rebekah, darling, you will have a baby sibling soon. Your Ma’s been laboring for some time.” She rubbed her eyes. “I will help bring the baby.”

Rebekah sighed, content in both the news and in the comforting smell of apple butter. “Having the village midwife to attend to her is a lot better than the eldest daughter! You soothed my fears, Heloise.”

Joseph smiled.

“Heloise,” Elnora moaned. “Helois-s-s-s-s-e!”

Spinning on her heels, Heloise charged back toward the door. “Oh,” the hefty woman exclaimed as she bounced out the door, her feet all a tangle.

“Ma,” Joseph yelled, dashing after her. But he was too late. The sickening thunk-thunk-thunk as Heloise tumbled down the stairs had already come to a stop.

CHAPTER SIX

Rebekah awoke with a crick in her neck. She pulled her head up off the uneven quilt that still lay tucked under her head. Careful not to move too quickly, she pushed herself up on the arm that had moments before been bent beneath her. Feeling like a hunk of deadwood, her entire arm pulsed back to life as the absent blood rushed into it.

I must have fallen asleep
, she figured, still sleep-dumb from exhaustion. The moonlight streamed in through the window, casting a pale silvery sheen on her floor. Flexing her arm, Rebekah twisted toward the sounds of the men who still worked outside. She winced from the pain in her neck and shoulder.

Her father’s jovial voice rang out above the rest as he joshed with Lucas, Simon, and the rest of the Gasthof Village men who had come to lend their strong hands. She lifted her hand to her stiff neck.

Rebekah heard Mr. Yoder’s voice saying something in German about the women having left for the night. Someone else answered that was unfortunate because he could use a slice of stuffed crust apple pie right about now. Their genial laughter wafted in through her open window like soft, melodic breezes.

She began to rub her tense neck muscles so hard that her fingers tingled as she tried to think back to when exactly she fell asleep.
Was it after Joseph and Lucas splinted Heloise’s broken leg and took her home?
No, she remembered the relief she felt when she learned of Heloise’s only injury from her fall being a broken leg.

After only a moment of rubbing, a loud pop from an odd place between her shoulder and neck brought her momentary relief. She released the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Moving her tingling arm gingerly, she shifted her position in the bed.

Was it after Mrs. Yoder came up to check on Ma’s progress?
No, she remembered Mrs. Yoder’s soft voice telling her that her mother’s labor was progressing slowly. She had claimed to be positive that it would be at least a few days longer before the baby would be making an appearance.

Gently, Rebekah picked up the quilt piece and examined it. Her throbbing arm made it hang lopsided before her. She’d been working on it for what seemed like forever, but there was still so much that needed to be completed before it was finished. Rebekah glanced over into the bag, which contained more than enough squares to finish the quilt, before looking back to her handiwork. It simply didn’t look the way a quilt was supposed to look. Especially not like Elnora’s at this stage in the process.

The stitches were crooked. Her own stitches made Katie’s look closer to perfect than hers ever had been. Her morning star pattern, which was constructed from pieces of dresses she had saved from her younger days, was off-center and uneven. Not even her squares were uniform. Try as she might, she hadn’t been able to cut any two squares the same size. Even worse, the fabric was rumpled from constantly being shoved down into her bag.

“At least I’ve finally gotten the knack of double-stitching so that my pieces actually stay together,” she muttered.