“I wanted to let you get some sleep,” Joseph stammered. “You have had such a long day.”
“Are you writing a letter?” She peered over his shoulder. A piece of paper peeked out from beneath his arm. “Ach du lieva! Are you writing to…Katie?”
Her eyes widened and she wanted to shriek and wail, just as long and loud as Lil’ Bit. Pain. Shooting, stabbing pain shot through her—though this particular pain had absolutely nothing to do with the pregnancy or traumatic birth. This feeling was that of trust, as it broke into jagged pieces that slashed everything tender and precious as it fell asunder.
Joseph, however, said nothing.
“Well? Are you?”
From downstairs, their bopplin began to screech. Rebekah turned her back on her silent mann and carefully began the walk back down the hallway. No part of her body moved as it should and, if she was ever considered a graceful, feminine walker before, she certainly could not claim that title now.
The grossmammis have my bopplin downstairs. I should go try and check on him…
Heart pounding, Rebekah picked her way through the darkness. The stairs are here somewhere.
She tottered on the top step and tried not to think about what Joseph’s mysterious letter might entail. He certainly kept it secret from me. A deep ache in her stomach and ripping sensation from down below doubled her over. She reached out and caught herself before she tumbled down the entire flight and came to rest on the second stair from the top. Her heart pounded even faster, and a hot, sticky wetness coated her thighs.
More pains shot through her breasts. She hugged her arms across her chest and chewed her lower lip. She touched her chest warily, hoping to find milk there. The front of her gown, however, was still heartbreakingly dry.
Heloise’s gentle voice came to her mind. It can take several days for a new mater’s milk to come in. Use that time to rest. It is those precious days that grossmammis wait for more than any other.
Breathless, Joseph sat down beside her as the tears streamed down her face. “I tried to reach you when you started to fall, Rebekah.” He rested his hand on hers. “But I was too slow. Komme, let me help you back to bed.”
Venom pooled in Rebekah’s mouth and coated her words before she spat them, one after the other, at her mann. “You want me out of the way so you can keep up your letter writing, I see.” She shook his hand off and continued. “Help me? Do you know what you can do to help me?”
“Rebekah—”
She interrupted him. “You are constantly over my shoulder! You could not trust me to take care of my pregnancy and now, since I am not Amish enough to give birth do a healthy kinder, you cannot trust me to take care of your sohn.” She stopped and stared at him the way Buttercup the rooster stared at, well, anything he did not like. “Do you think Katie could do better for you?”
Joseph arched his back and did not try and take her hand again. “What does she have to do with any of this?”
“Defend her then. Go on.” Rebekah sniffled. “What was in the letter?”
Joseph ignored her daring question and stood. He extended his hand to his exhausted, bloody, freshly delivered fraa. “Rebekah, we can talk tomorrow. It has been wunderbaar long day. Please. Let me help you to bed.”
“Help?” Rebekah pulled herself up in halting, awkward motions using only the handrails to the stairs and lots of luck. She did not accept his outstretched hand. “I do not need, nor do I want, any kind of help from you.”
Chapter Nine
Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God. Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you. – Matthew 5:3-12
Thomas, with his puffy, blond kitten, Sun, tucked into the front pocket of his bib overalls, stuck his fingers in his ears. “Ach du lieva, Schwestie. I have never heard such a screaming bopplin before.”
Rebekah hung her head. She had brought Lil’ Bit out onto the front porch in hopes that some fresh air and sunshine might do him some good. Thomas, who had been helping Joseph in the barn, had meandered over to see his little nephew when he noticed them outside. However, the screeching from the tiny buwe made him stop short.
“Beanie never did this, you know.” Thomas thought for a moment. “Well, maybe he did once or twice. But not all the time like Lil’ Bit does.”
Frazzled, Rebekah unwrapped Lil’ Bit and began to massage his belly. He was almost one month old, but still so tiny. Her milk, what little bit there was of it, did not satiate him in the least. Each feeding left both even more frustrated after it was over than before they started.
Thomas removed his fingers from his ears and snapped them loudly. “I think I know, Schwestie. I think I know what his problem is.”
“And what is that?”
I am so desperate to get my bopplin some relief I might try anything. So go ahead Thomas, make your suggestion.
Thomas puffed his chest. “He came too early. He needs to go back in for a while. That way when he comes out next time, he will not be so…loud.”
Definitely not taking that suggestion.
Molly Raber, the young maedel they had hired to help, ventured onto the porch with a pitcher and glass bottle in tow. “More watermelon seed tea for the bopplin?” She glanced at Thomas. “Are you up for a race later?” she asked.
Rebekah snickered. She was just a few years older than Thomas, but she was as full of boundless energy as any three Stoll boys. Between the bopplin and regular household chores, her help around the house had been a Gotte-send.
“Danki, Molly.” Rebekah offered her a wry smile, something that was harder and harder to do with each passing day. No matter how much she tried to force her lips to curve into a smile, it was a chore to make happen. “Watermelon seed tea would be wunderbaar. And I am certain Thomas would love to take you up on that race later. Wouldn’t you Thomas?”
Thomas did not answer.
Molly smiled. “Can I give the bopplin his bottle?”
Rebekah passed Lil’ Bit to her just as Mrs. Raber, Molly’s mother, came up the front walk. “Gut daag, Rebekah, Thomas. Hallo, Dochder.”
The older woman’s face broke into friendly planes as smile lines fanned from her eyes back into the graying bits of hair that were visible from under her black covering. “How is the bopplin?”
Rebekah shook her head in minuscule shakes. “Your dochder has been a wonderful gute help, Mrs. Raber. I do not know what I would do without her.” She flickered a smile to Molly, whose red hair flowed in flaming tendrils from around her white not-yet-married covering. She grinned.
Sun, Thomas’s kitten, leaped from his pocket and dashed through the tall, Indiana grass with reckless abandon. With a squeal and without a second look at Molly, Thomas turned and dashed off after him.
Mrs. Raber giggled, then turned her attention to Rebekah. “How is your milk, dear?”
Rebekah shook her head again. “It is not anything except a source of frustration. Certainly not a source of nourishment.”
“I thought you may say that.” Mrs. Raber produced a handful of green leaves from her apron pocket. “This is an herb that will help. Fenugreek. Molly and I will make this into a tea for you. You will drink it often through the day. It is helpful for bringing in the milk.” She disappeared into the house, with Molly and a fussing Lil’ Bit right on her heels.
Joseph stepped out of the barn and into the sunshine. He was still in the process of restoring the burned bits from the accidental barn fire that almost cost all their animals their lives, and Joseph’s too. It turned out he had tripped and tipped over a lantern. Before he had even realized what he’d done, the hay had caught fire and things got out of hand much too quickly.
Normally, he would have had the barn, or anything else made of wood and in need of fixing, refurbished in no time. But with her sickness and the birth of their bopplin, his being able to restore the barn had turned from a weeks-long project into a months-long project. Joseph looked at her. Their eyes met briefly across the yard, then he looked away.
Rebekah tried to pretend that his looking away did not hurt. After all, they had not spoken since she confronted him about the secret letter to Katie a month prior. Not about the letter or about anything at all. In fact, a blind man could see that he was avoiding her, plain and simple. Strangely, Rebekah was somewhat relieved by his avoidance of her since she had taken equal care to avoid him, as well. The silence may not have fixed the Katie issue, but it certainly kept it from ripping open and spilling any more blood.
Still, something ached in her heart when he was near.
You miss him, Rebekah. And it kills you that he does not seem to miss you, too.
He flickered another glance in her direction before disappearing, stone-faced, back into the barn.
“Hallo?”
Rebekah jumped.
