She mentally admonished herself, feeling emptier and more alone than before.
Who did you think would be there, Rebekah? Thomas, having snuck in the back door? Fogarty, who made it here without me seeing though I have been watching the road like a hawk watches a rabbit hole, for any sign of movement?
Rebekah forced a swallow. She knew exactly who she wished it was, but admitting it made her feel even more foolish since it was not the case.
Joseph.
If only it had been her Joseph, made whole by some sort of divine intervention, and instead of being on the brink of death, he was on the brink of their living room, waiting to hug her.
She turned back to face the empty road. “Pa, where could you be? Why are you not here yet?”
She thought back to last night when she and Samuel sat together at the kitchen table by candlelight. She rarely made coffee in the evenings, but last night she made an exception. Using an old, white bonnet she had set aside to be mended, she scooped some pulverized coffee grounds into it and made not only two cups of coffee, but a very brown bonnet, as well. This simple action, done in humble silence, was enough to bring Samuel to the precipice of a laughing jag. He laughed so hard he cried, and in doing so, brought Rebekah to tears right along with him.
“See you in the morning, dochder, for hot coffee and good company.” Then, with a wave, he had disappeared into the falling darkness.
“That’s it!” Rebekah’s heart leaped into her throat at the sweet memory that had suddenly turned sour. “Pa! He never made it home! He could have fallen down or fallen ill or fallen victim—”
Rebekah switched off her anxious mind and stilled her tongue.
No. I refuse to worry. I will just go and find him.
She gathered her skirt into her hands and hurried down the stairs at a trot.
“I do not know where you are off to in such a hurry, but can I come, too?”
Before she could turn around, Thomas strode out of the barn, hair all askew, rubbing his eyes. “I thought those bopplins would never go to—” His eyes grew wide, and he grinned. “Sissy, look! It is Joseph! It is a miracle!”
Rebekah turned on her heel. Sure enough, there in the doorway stood her husband with their slobbery bopplin in his arms.
“I thought sure you saw me a moment ago when you turned around. Guess I bent down to pick up Dawson at just the right time. Or the wrong time.” He smiled a tired smile.
Skirt still in her fists, she dashed up the stairs and wrapped her arms around her husband. “Thank you, thank you, God. This is a miracle!”
“I would say so.” He wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and held her close. “I had to stop and rest three times coming down the stairs. Thought sure I would not make it without taking a tumble.”
Hot tears leaked down Rebekah’s cheeks. “I love you,” she whispered. “Thank you, God, for sparing my husband.”
He dropped his voice. “Thank you for taking such loving care of me. I heard every word you said. You are what gave me the strength to keep fighting.” He nuzzled her hair. “I could have easily given up, but you seemed so certain that I would be all right, I believed it myself.”
He pulled back to look at her. “Judging from your reaction right now, you must not have been so certain after all.” His sad attempt at a joke fell flat. “Thank you for your courage.”
Rebekah studied her husband. He had removed his head bandage and walked with a bit of a limp, but he was up and walking nonetheless! His forehead was swollen and a swirl of purple and green. Black, scabby blood covered the cuts on his forehead where Pepper’s hoof had met his skin so many days ago.
“I cannot believe you walked downstairs all by yourself!”
“I cannot believe it either. I came downstairs, got a drink in the kitchen, and relieved myself. The first time in days that I was able to do so by myself.”
Rebekah blushed. “But how did I not hear you go to the outhouse?”
Her blush transferred to her husband’s cheeks. “I did not make it to the outhouse. But at least I made it to the back door.”
They shared an easy laugh.
“Then I came into the living room, you turned around, and I picked up the bopplin. Now, here we are.”
Thomas stood, solemn, at the bottom of the steps. “Joseph, I have so much to tell you.” His hair, filled with straw, stuck up this way and that.
“Can you give me a hug before you tell me?”
Thomas’s face broke into a wide, gap-toothed grin. “Ja!” He dashed toward Rebekah and Joseph with his arms open wide and wrapped them in a hug. “Danke, God,” he whispered.
Rebekah and Joseph shared a knowing glance over Thomas’s head.
“Do you feel up to taking a walk?” Joseph’s voice was quiet. “I would like to go check on my father-in-law.”
Rebekah nodded with a sniffle. “I was just thinking the same thing. Fater has been coming over every day while you were sick—”
“He did?”
“Jah. He said since I am a parent, I would understand someday that when your child needs you, you do extraordinary things.”
“He is what a good fater should be.” Joseph massaged her back with his hand as though he, too, thought this time would never come. “I hope to be half the fater he is someday.”
“I hope to be half the parent he is,” Rebekah said.
“Shall we go, family?” Joseph asked.
Everyone started down the steps, except Thomas. “Do you think the bopplins will be okay? Here alone, I mean.”
“Bopplins?” Joseph looked down at Rebekah, his clear eyes questioning.
“We have had two new additions to the Graber family.” Rebekah looked pointedly at Thomas.
“Their names are Slinky and Stinky Graber-Stoll.”
Joseph sucked in his lower lip. “How about you tell me about them on the walk over to see your Ma and Pa?”
Thomas nodded. “If you think they will be okay, they are asleep in the barn. Because they are knocked oral.”
“Nocturnal?” Joseph guessed.
“That is it!” Thomas skipped ahead of them, chattering all the while. “Slinky is a baby raccoon. And Stinky is a…”
“No. Please, do not say Stinky is a skunk.”
“I was not going to.” Thomas held his chin out triumphantly to the tune of Rebekah’s giggles. “I was going to say Stinky is a bopplin skunk.”
Joseph’s eyes widened. “Rebekah…”
