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Rebekah flushed. She always had to share her father with her brothers, and it was a rare and welcome thing that she got him all to herself. Her heart filled as she absorbed his flattering words. “Danke, Fater.”

“So,” Samuel continued, “since you have your hands full taking care of Joseph, I decided to get up out of the bed and come help you. And spend some time with this little bopplin, as well.”

“If it is a sin to be proud of me, then I, too, will sin and be proud to have you as my fater.” She handed Samuel the cup of coffee.

“Mmm.” He closed his eyes and smelled the aromatic liquid. “It seems you had a fine teacher in the art of coffee making.”

Rebekah sipped from her cup and giggled at the memory. “Jah, remember how you taught me to make coffee by the cup. To smash the beans and put them into a piece of thin cloth, then place it into a cup before pouring the boiling water over it.”

She was laughing so hard; she could not continue.

Samuel snorted. “Ja, and after we drank our coffee your mother came into the kitchen, looking for the cloth to make a white apron. Only we had, we had…”

Samuel could not continue for laughing. “We had dyed the fabric hopelessly brown by brewing cups of coffee with it!”

Tears streamed down Rebekah’s cheeks at the memory of Elnora’s shocked expression as Samuel pulled the dripping sachet of smashed beans wrapped in her good cloth from his coffee cup. Her father looked as innocent as a puppy who had just been caught digging up the garden, equal parts apologetic and mischievous.

Samuel’s face, too, was wet with happy tears. Dawson, not to be left out, screeched, beat his arms up and down, and smiled a slobbery smile, which made Rebekah and Samuel laugh even louder.

A noise from outside wafted in through the freshly mended screen door. Rebekah rose. “Do you hear that?”

Samuel, carrying a sleepy Dawson, trailed her to the door.

Rebekah’s smile broadened when she saw the source of the noise. “Fogarty!” Thomas stood behind the old barber and watched as he mended the fence.

“I heard tell,” Fogarty began, “one of my patients was coming over here to do chores. So, I decided to beat him to it.”

Samuel chuckled. “What a good physician you are.”

Fogarty gave the lever a try. It worked expertly. “I just happened to bring some more leeches too, in the event that yours become engorged and fall off.”

Samuel nodded. “They have been, actually.”

Rebekah’s stomach rolled. “Forgive me, but I cannot listen to any more of this talk about leeches. If you will excuse me.” She slipped back inside and picked up the bowl of water, which was no longer steaming, and started upstairs. Changing the bandages, which she would do morning and night, was quite time-consuming. Perhaps, with Samuel and Fogarty here, she could even lie down and nap beside her husband a moment.

Thank you, God. Thank you for the trials, so that we can more fully appreciate your blessings. Thank you for the hope of a better tomorrow. And thank you, most of all, for Joseph and my fater.

Chapter Ten

“Good morning!”

Samuel’s voice roused Rebekah from an uneasy sleep. She had fallen asleep in the living room, finally, holding a fussy bopplin. The gray early dawn came earlier than expected.

All sweaty, Dawson was sprawled across her chest sleeping soundly. Ever careful, she switched him to the nest of quilts on the floor. He sighed a baby sigh as the front door opened.

“Anyone here in the market for hot coffee and good company? I know I am!” Samuel had a hammer in his hand and a grin on his face. He dropped his voice at once when he caught sight of Rebekah. His smile drooped into a look of concern.

Bopplin not letting you sleep much, Dochder?”

She forced a smile. This was the second morning Samuel had shown up. The second miraculous day that her beloved fater had gotten up off his sickbed and come to her aid. “I must look a fright.”

“Was Joseph able to rest last night?”

“I cannot tell if he is resting or…” Rebekah ducked her head. “I fear he will never wake up.”

“Do not worry and keep the faith.” Samuel’s countenance brightened at once. “Get yourself a nap. Things are always better after a nap. Anyway, Fater is here to help.”

He wagged his hammer at her. “I can listen for the bopplin while I fix a few things around the house. That way, you will not have to worry about it.” He gestured to his daughter. “I will have the coffee ready when you wake up.”

Rebekah’s heart fluttered in her chest. God, why did you see fit to bless me, someone so undeserving, with such a loving fater? Danke.

Rebekah’s eyelids turned to stone almost at once as she sank back onto the couch. “I suppose I could close my eyes just for a moment…” A yawn cut off her words.

***

Rebekah awoke to a bright living room. The sun was high in the sky and, for the first time since this entire ordeal began, she felt somewhat refreshed. She glanced at the pile of quilts where Dawson had been sleeping. They were empty.

She rose and stretched her back, listening hard for any clue as to where her family could be. She heard none. Where could everyone be?

The sound of footsteps on the stairs made her turn around. Her face cracked into a smile as she recognized who it was. “Ah, good morning Mr. Fogarty.”

“Good morning? Child, it is afternoon.” Fogarty chuckled. “Did you rest well?”

“Yes, thanks to my fater.” She rubbed her eyes. “I suspect he and Dawson have gone to find something to mend. He looked ready to fix things with his hammer this morning.”

Fogarty smiled. “Right you are. He and your son are outside finding odd jobs to do. So far, they have fed the animals, gathered the eggs, and milked the cow. They also made some adjustments to your mudroom tub and restrung you a clothesline out back. The previous one was a bit saggy,” he said. Fogarty took a seat and mopped at his brow with a hanky produced from his front pocket. “Now, you will have a good view when you are looking out your backdoor. You can see beautiful Indiana with a creek flowing nearby, and not a saggy clothesline.”

“I suppose all of that is so very true.” Rebekah could not help but smile at the grandfatherly barber who was proving more and more each day to be a gift from God, even if he did not know how to admit it. “How are you today, Mr. Fogarty?”

“No mister necessary. Just Fogarty will do.” He smiled. “I have been to check on my patients. Your husband and your father.”

Rebekah gestured toward the kitchen. “Shall we have some coffee, Fogarty?”

He pushed himself to his feet. “I have never been known to refuse a cup of coffee. Many thanks.”

Much to Rebekah’s surprise, a pot of coffee was already boiling on the stove.

“It appears your father beat you to it.” He chuckled. “A fine gentleman he is, and a true father. You and the bopplin, as he calls him, are his sole priorities right now.”

Rebekah poured them each a cup, but only after making sure there was enough left for Samuel when he returned from whatever errand he had busied himself with. “I agree, he is a wunderbaar fater. As I am sure you are to your bopplins, too.”

Fogarty accepted the cup. “Danke,” he tried, then shook his head. “Nope, does not sound right rolling off my tongue. Thank you, Rebekah.”

“You are welcome.” She smiled as she sipped her coffee. “How is fater today?”

“Truly, it is a miracle that he is up and around. Enjoy each moment, as you know, nobody is promised the next.”

Rebekah’s bright mood dipped with Fogarty’s ominous warning.

Are sens